Murder On The Waterway: The Case Of The Kanaima Demon

Chapter Fifteen

The sensation of cold stone pressed firmly against my temple sent a shiver down my spine. I could feel the cuts oozing and the bruises attempting to push their way through my skin. The violence had left its mark, with my elbow, lower back, side, knees, and the edge of my right palm bearing the painful testimony of a brutal encounter.

But then, an unusual surge of energy coursed through me, something I couldn't explain or comprehend. It had to be supernatural. The injuries healed miraculously; a dozen scratch lines faded before my astonished eyes, leaving tiny traces of blood, an eerie reminder of the supernatural forces at play. I quickly hoisted myself from the cold, unforgiving ground, still trying to come to terms with the supernatural abilities I had suddenly unlocked.

Without hesitation, I jammed my finger onto the emergency button, a device meant for dire situations like this. It was only the second time I needed to use it, and the moment's gravity was not lost on me.

"This is Detective Reynolds," I shouted into the radio, my voice strained from the recent ordeal, frantically checking for street names and potential witnesses. I could still hear the alarm from Michael's beeping radio echoing. "Urgent assistance is required on Alderney Road, opposite the park and number thirteen. Shots were fired by the occupants of a navy Capri, number plate unknown, with sustained damage to the near side front. They made off toward Argyle Road. Detective Dalton and a member of the public have gone down; unsure if they were injured yet."

The controller's response crackled through the radio, the urgency in their voice matching the supernatural chaos unfolding. "Received dispatch, any units to attend Alderney Road, urgent assistance required."

What felt like an eternity was just a few seconds, but it was enough time for me to dash to Michael's and Mr Kumar's sides. Michael lay sideways, his head dangerously close to a twisted metal bench for support. The metallic scent of blood hung in the air, but thankfully, it wasn't as extensive as it could have been. Mr Kumar was cuffed to the back, lying facedown in the grass, his face concealed among the blades.

I called out to Mr Kumar, swiftly pulling him onto his side, hoping to find signs of life. He groaned miserably, his eyelids fluttering as his body showed signs of recovery. Mr Kumar was alive, and for that, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Michael had a slight cut on the top edge of his forehead, likely because of a collision with the bench. But he, too, had survived the supernatural onslaught.

"Mr Kumar, are you okay?" I asked, shaking his shoulders, desperate for any signs of consciousness. He mumbled incoherently and gave a slight, reassuring head wiggle. No visible blood was on him, a hopeful sign amidst the supernatural chaos.

"Shit, the magnet strikes again," Michael's voice broke through the tension, his sense of humour remarkably intact. It was a reassuring sign that he had not been defeated by the otherworldly threat we had just faced.

"Enough with the jokes. Any pain anywhere?" I inquired, tilting Mr Kumar's head to allow him to take a deep breath. His response came as a gasp.

"Yeah, just my head. That was a close call," Mr Kumar admitted, his voice trembling with the realisation of how narrowly he had escaped the supernatural onslaught.

"I'm okay, too. Thanks for asking," Mr Kumar said, a hint of defiance in his voice as he spat across the grass. It was a sign that his survival had instilled new-found courage.

"Of course you are. There's no visible blood, and you're in no position to be flippant," I reassured Mr Kumar, deciding it was time to release him from his restraints. After all, the supernatural confrontation had likely made him more amenable to talking to us and revealing the truth of the otherworldly crisis.