Hemotaph

Chapter 1

The precinct smelled like cheap coffee and the aroma of Chinese food wafted throughout the room from a couple desks over. The air was even kind of stale, to be honest. And even though the heat was on it didn't take out the chill from the crowded room. With the way the heater seemed to keep going from on to off every few minutes for the past hour I've been here it was obvious that there was a reason the chill never left. The heater really needed to get fixed; anybody with two brain cells could tell it was a piece of shit.

I turned my attention back to the officer and sighed. This gets really old, but at least I'm not in the interrogation room this time. It was nice to sit at a desk every once in a while.

"You have quite the record, Ms. Beloff," said the officer, his pudgy fingers flipping through the papers in the folder. His eyes never met mine as he spoke. I glanced around the precinct, taking in the old gray brick walls and file cabinets lined against most of the space alongside desks. Officers sat and filed paperwork or worked on a case while others were always up and moving to get things done. There wasn't much to the place. It's had little upgrades since it was built besides the basics: plumbing, electric, and whatnot. It hasn't changed much since the last time I was here either.

Yet again, I was just here a week and a half ago, so it would probably be better to say it hasn't changed since I first came in here years back.

With a sigh, I brought my attention back to the man in front of me on the other side of the desk. He was new, probably just got into the place earlier this week. With as often as I got sent here, I know everybody by first name and can tell you who they are from a mile away. Bored, I looked him over again. Buzz-cut blonde hair, a round face with a long nose and narrowed brown eyes. He was a round man, kind of like a white Buddha, and wore the typical all blue uniform that all the officers wore. Luckily, his uniform was the right size or else I'd be worrying over a button popping off and hitting my eye. Though he may be new he seemed to know his way around regulations and the job, so maybe he's just a transfer?

Well, time to set the record straight with the man because everybody else in the precinct knows how things go down and I don't want to have to go through this every freakin' time I come in. "Ravyn," I said. Informing him little by little would be good.

He looked up, startled, his brown eyes meeting my jade ones. "What?" he asked.

"It's just Ravyn," I repeated, but added a smile.

He coughed and averted his eyes, then continued where he left off. "Uh...Ravyn then. Like I said your record is quite extensive, especially for a young lady that works at a bookstore."

"I'm not doing anything wrong, Officer..." I glanced at his badge, his tag. "Officer Ryan. I'm just handling business." Mostly true...like ninety-seven percent of the time true. The other three percent should be ignored. Preferably.

Officer Ryan snorted and narrowed his eyes at me, putting the file down, opened, and leaned forward pointing a finger onto the open page. "Handling business? A bookstore clerk with ten different assault records from the past five years plus the one today, arson on multiple accounts, and you were also almost convicted of two murder charges that were dropped. I'm just wondering how the hell you haven't been locked up."

I sat back in the chair, crossing my arms, and stared at the man. The corner of my lips twitched upright. "Let's just say I have really good friends." Mostly business associates or co-workers, but good enough.

"Or you just have the people in this place wrapped around your pretty little finger," he countered, leaning forward with a sneer. Though I was sitting back against the chair I could smell his ranked breath. God, someone needed a tic-tac.