The house was situated in a lovely neighborhood, the type that catered to those with a little extra cash to spend. It was on the smaller side, and certainly not outrageously expensive, but it was well-kept and pleasant.
And, they noticed, absent of any signs of a break-in.
After parking the car behind the other cop vehicles, Hank got out and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets again. "All right, this should be way easier than questioning. You think you can handle this one?"
Straightening his tie, Connor walked beside him. "I'll keep note of anything that points to contradictions in her answers."
"How about we figure out the details first? Before we go snooping into shit that doesn't matter?"
The android whipped his head, ready to protest, but Hank's expression said everything: keep your fucking mouth shut in front of the rest. "... of course. I'll do everything I can to figure out where the suspect went."
Stepping inside showed the usual: crime scene, markers noting every piece of evidence, digital police tape, the works. Hank went to ask the cops present what they'd found, while Connor eyed every detail he could at his whim.
The only difference, really, was the lack of a body. You hadn't been killed, after all. But even so, most of the evidence was in the bedroom and the hallway outside of it. Glass was shattered everywhere, smears of blood making a painful trail to a small hallway table. Beside it, the blood had pooled a little.
[She'd been assaulted in the bedroom, and crawled her way to this table specifically. Hank said her voice command system had been shut off, so her phone was here.]
Sure enough the device lay nearby, scarlet fingerprints here and there on the screen. He turned back to the broken glass, noting more of your blood splattered where you'd crawled over it.
[No broken windows. The android didn't break in; either she opened the door for him or he knew another route.]
On the wall was a polished mahogany frame, the protective glass missing except for a few shards. Despite needing to check the bedroom, he eyed the frame's contents. A photo was expected, but the frame looked pricy.
[Master's degree. Highest honors and a double major. Biotechnology and Computer Engineering.]
It was almost like alarms going off in his head. "..... Hank!!"
The human hadn't gone far but he came into the hallway quickly. "What, what?! Jesus, you scared the shit outta me!" The android said nothing, and Hank soon figured out just what was being stared at. "... well, I'll be damned. That's not just for show, I'll bet."
"She knew my name," Connor said again.
"You don't think she worked for...?"
With a slight frown, the android tore his eyes away from the degree. "If she did, I have no recollection of her name."
"Didn't you tell me once that if you, like... died or something... your memory would be uploaded into a new one?"
"I've had this body since I met you. The only other Connor you've seen was the one you shot."
"Right, right," Hank nodded. "Fucker tried to trick me." He eyed his partner carefully. "You sure you don't recognize her name? Is it possible you just don't remember?"
Connor shook his head. "I haven't lost any data; any time I spent at CyberLife is in my memory. She is not in any of my files."
"Interesting. My list of questions just keeps goin' up, I guess..." he trailed off, walking away again.
His head was practically vibrating, trying to sift through the most minor memory, trying to figure out if he'd seen you. Every try turned up blank, and in frustration he stormed into the bedroom, only to stop dead again.
It wasn't nearly as bloody as most other cases they'd seen. And of course, there was no body to examine. Almost all of the blood on the bed was your own, though there were some flecks scattered. Most of the thirium he had to scan for, as it had of course dried, but it showed enough: the assailant had been cut with something, the resulting splash of blue blood fanned out on one wall.
On the floor lay some kind of statue, it's shape sharp and pointed at the top, an artistic abstract sort of thing. Thirium coated the top half; it was an effective weapon.
Glad to focus on something other than the bed, Connor went and lifted the makeshift weapon, which turned out to be an award of some kind.
[Contributions to the Advancement of the Future...? Nothing else besides the name and year, 2035.]
"You know, as much as I hate seeing and knowing that you do it in the first place, is there any blue blood for you to get a sample of?" Arms crossed, Hank leaned in the bedroom doorway. "What are you holding?"
Getting back to his feet, Connor held up the award. "The weapon she used to defend herself. It's an award."
"Fancy. Any blood on it?"
"The thirium has already dried."
"So you're not gonna stick that in your mouth, good to know." The human made a face, still not used to seeing the android licking evidence to analyze it. "That fancy thing have any other clues?"
"Unfortunately not. It was given for "Contributions to the Advancement of the Future", with her name and year it was given." Connor set it back down exactly as he'd found it. "Nothing that points to our suspicion. All it tells us is that she's very experienced in technology."
"Well, big fuckin' deal, I'm real experienced with alcohol, where's my goddamn award?" But Hank chuckled. "Go search the rest of her house. Find out if that android might still be hanging around or something."
As Hank left once more, Connor meant to do the same. But he lingered at the doorway, gazing at the bed. It was messy, untouched of course, but the sight made him terribly uneasy. Like the rest of the case.
[Why does this bother me?]
A quick scan revealed the trail of thirium, leading right out the back door. The house was one-story, with a basement, and the injured android had simply done what he intended and left.
He searched the other rooms but found nothing of much interest. There was one room that was locked, but Connor didn't exactly have a search warrant to break in. If there was anything interesting inside, he'd have to wait until you either gave permission- unlikely- or unlocked it yourself- even more unlikely.
Masking his frown, the android ventured through the kitchen to reach the basement. The cops hadn't seen the use in going down there, so all the lights were shut off. His approach, as expected, turned them back on.
On the wall directly next to the bottom of the staircase was the digital control panel, to adjust the settings for the house. The voice command was part of this, but it was shut off. It could also only be accessed by those that lived in the house.
[Was it shut off by other means? There's no damage or evidence of tampering. No trail of being hacked or corrupted. Would she have shut it off herself?]
Possibly. The chance that you were expecting to be assaulted was zero.
[She stated the android shut it down. No evidence of a break-in.
...... the android was living here.]
Connor turned, ready to return upstairs and explain the conclusion he'd drawn, but the abundance of crates made him stop again.
Large, white, sturdy crates littered the basement. White machinery here and there, all designed to be controlled by computer or remote, or even other means. A cabinet with glass panels in the doors, blood bags laid on the shelves. Thirium bags. A large desk encompassing a corner nearby, with three monitors, two microscopes, and countless other gadgets and scientific implements. Papers pinned to the walls, diagrams and images and thoughts hastily scribbled before they were lost.
The CyberLife logo was plastered everywhere. His LED flashed red.
"Hank, get down here!!"
YOU ARE READING
Virus (Yandere Connor x Reader)
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] Algorithm: A set of instructions or rules designed to solve a definitive problem. The problem may be as simple as adding two numbers or as complex as ridding the city of whosoever stands in your way.
