The Ancient Ones

2-How Could Coffee be so Cold? Part One

Bang
Was all Gregory could hear after a while. The fire department rushed in, tugged him out of the murder suspect's house, and sent him to the nearest hospital in record time.

Gregory Pearson was a normal guy, most would say anyway. He paid his taxes online, he continued his dangerous job as a detective just to get his pension in, and he already had one divorce under his belt. Which was pretty good considering the track record of his peers in the same field.

Laying in the hospital bed with 13 stitches in his head, 2 broken ribs, and a right arm fractured in 4 places, Gregory had some time to think about how exactly he ended up in this particular conundrum.

Six weeks before, 3 ritualistic murders had happened in downtown Chicago, that the police knew of, and Gregory Pearson had been chosen as the liaison between the Chicago PD and the nearest FBI unit available. Greg truly wasn't one to ignore direct orders, like the one the Chief of Police had given him, asking that he not get in the Feds way, at all, considering that it was, once again, an election year.

But Greg noticed something. At every crime scene there was the same pair of crystal grey eyes watching the investigation. Granted, that wasn't enough of a reason to suspect the person as the bodies were all dropped off within a mile of each other. A better explanation than any of them being the actual murderer is that they were all related to each other and they came across the horrific scene on their way home. Then again, the culprit, or culprits, always come back to the scene of the crime. And at each crime scene, it was always someone different. The first body's drop-off had everyone in the neighborhood behind the yellow crime scene tape. A woman with fire red hair and those piercing grey eyes had been there, hence why Gregory spotted the pattern in the first place. The second time, an old man with stark white hair and the third, a young child with pitch black.

Now, Greg had no intention of investigating on his own, he was just there for the government benefits, but after his shift that day he saw a man with bleach blonde hair and those signature grey eyes walk into a one story house that was smack in the middle of the strike zone. For all Greg knew, they could all be some sort of sick cult family trying to summon Satan.

Gregory called it in, knocked on the door, and was pulled in with way too much force for any man to have.

The man from before had disappeared and the original fire red haired woman stood in Gregory's wake. She shimmered and the old man appeared. Then the child, then the man Greg had initially followed. Greg was awestruck. He had never seen anything of the like before.

As bodies shifted and Greg's mind raced, a low echoing chant seemed to get louder and more pronounced the more the grey eyed persons changed appearance.

A book was slowly beginning to float in the furniture-less living room, seemingly gaining power from the voice's chant. The book opened, revealing glowing letters, and before Greg or the grey eyed persons could do anything, a giant, bright fire ball started to expand at a rapid rate.

Right before the explosion, the only thing Gregory Pearson thought was, "Oh Fuck."