A Secret Man of Blood

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sig and Squad lie on their stomachs, watching the enemy camp from a hillside, as the dark lungs of winter winds blow across their backs. At this furthest point, the Night Elves have penetrated forty miles into Tyrian territory. Measured bites of orange glare show the practise fire of magical artillery in the distance.

Squad turns and sees Sig looking thoughtful. "What are you doing, mourning the loss of innocence?"

"Nope."

"Rejoicing in it?"

"Yep."

They meet each other's eyes and smile, though the military situation looks dire: the Night Elf Army Group Centre looks even stronger than estimates suggested, their numbers stretching across the gloomy and grand vista.

"What made you want to come on this scouting mission, anyway?" Squad asks.

"What do you mean?" Sig asks, genuinely offended. "I'm good at solving problems," he claims, then quickly adds, "and even better at inventing them!"

Squad looks at him as if he's mad. "Let's be honest, you weren't always a diligent investigator..."

*

Inside an abandoned industrial unit there's a scene of terrible slaughter, bloodied bits of flesh hanging from hooks in the ceiling and other innards scattered throughout. A police officer is writing notes as Sig arrives on the scene and addresses him.

"What's the situation here, sergeant?"

The officer indicates the surrounding gore. "All of this appears to be from one victim. It looks like another ripper murder—"

"And what draws you to that conclusion?" Sig challenges, stooping to pick up, and subsequently eat, a slice of pizza left on the ground.

"He left his signature slice of pizza. We're going to check it for evidence," says the officer, turning just in time to see the pizza disappearing down Sig's throat.

Sig, who's barely been listening, looks up. "What?

Almost in a trance of disbelief, the officer points at Sig. "You've taken—"

"Your breath away?" Sig smiles. "Thank you, sergeant." Sig winks at the poor man. "But please continue."

"...Certainly," the officer responds, regaining his composure. "The killer posted five packages to various public figures, each containing organs or body parts – the last was sent to the mayor and contained the head."

Sig looks all around at the bloody mess, then shakes his head while sucking on a lollipop.

"...Classic suicide."

*

Emptying a last look at the strong enemy forces, Squad turns to Sig. "It's going to be difficult telling the Tyrians that the Night Elves are even stronger than we thought."

"Maybe I should tell them," Sig confidently declares. "Remember when I worked at that hospital..."

*

A family sit anxiously in a hospital waiting room and Sig strolls up to them wearing a doctor's coat, then reads from a chart.

"Are you the family of the deceased?" As the family members gasp and cry, Sig quickly corrects himself. "Oh, shit! I mean...I have some bad news."

*

"That's great," Squad says. "But, when we're breaking the news to the Elves, we might need someone who's less...you know...absolutely terrible."