Bloodlust. (Capsaicin x Prune Juice)

˗ˏˋ Chapter Ten. ˎˊ˗

Capsaicin couldn't help but choke back a sob. The culprit must have killed Prune Juice Cookie. If so, how would they have his engagement ring?

It was the exact same as he remembered. A golden ring that came from real Scovillan mines, topped with a dazzling diamond on the top of it. What he mostly didn't understand was the fact that how the killer had been able to keep it so clean. It was as if Capsaicin was proposing to a most-likely dead corpse sooner or later.

He walked back to his patrol car and noticed that he was the only one there. Everyone else had left, probably because it was getting late. He glanced at his watch and raised his eyebrows. "It's already 2 in the morning?!" He exclaimed, picking up the pace in his walk. 

Once he got back to his car, he placed the ring and the love note in the glove box. Capsaicin made sure to lock it, just in case the killer decided to be sneaky and pull vandalism on him for the third or fourth time.

He drove serenely back toward his house, sipping a full cup of coffee that had randomly been replaced there. Wait, what?

Capsaicin glanced down at the drink, noticing that it was full of his favorite: a dark blend with a splash of hot spice, stirred completely. He almost choked when he realized, splashing coffee onto his goatee. "Okay, what the actual hell."

He tossed the coffee out the window, saying a quick prayer to hope he hadn't been poisoned. What was funny was that when he had first witnessed Kouign-Amann getting shot blank, his coffee cup had been empty. But now it was full, as if something had magically refilled it.

Or someone.

Twenty Minutes Later

Capsaicin arrived back at his house. He felt so groggy, that whereever he looked, flashes of vibrancy appeared in his vision. He had to go to bed before he passed out face-first onto the pavement.

Rushing inside, he made sure he locked all the doors. Front door, locked. Garage, locked. Back door, locked. Windows, sealed shut tight. He heaved a tired and relieving sigh. "Bedtime for me."

As he approached his bedroom, the cockroach from either yesterday or days ago, Capsaicin couldn't remember, scuttled across the floor. He didn't dare stomp on it. He kept on trudging to his bedroom, where a messy king-sized bed sat in the middle of the room.

With Prune Juice Cookie sleeping peacefully in it.

Fire laced Capsaicin's arms. His horns started glowing. He ripped off his police uniform and now stood in boxer shorts and a white T-Shirt. He almost tripped running to the bed, approaching his husband. Giddiness filled up in his heart like a volcano about to blow.

But when he got at least three feet away, Prune Juice disappeared.

"H-HUH?!" Capsaicin exclaimed, reaching out both of his hands to the bed. All he did was collapse onto the mattress. His husband wasn't there. Some sort of illusion was playing with him, or maybe that poison/coffee had made him start seeing things.

Capsaicin neatened out his police uniform and took everything out of it. He crawled into bed and looked at the things he had collected over the day.

1. His notepad with suspects. He quickly crossed out Espresso Cookie.

2. The sticky note that was on his vandalized truck yesterday.

3. His phone.

His phone had a silly-looking selfie of himself and his husband in a mountain range. Both of them were bundled up in clothes, hugging each other like they had just won a match of soccer. Prune's bright eyes glinted in the sunlight of the photo.

Capsaicin remembered that day. He had to carry Prune all the way down the mountain because he had forgot to bring energy potions. Plus, he was terrified of the harmless snakes that slithered in the weak grass. The picture made Capsaicin giggle softly. Although he missed him more than missing his spicy soup recipe, he knew that his husband had to be dead. But he wasn't 100% sure.

He put down his items on the nightstand, curled up in the covers, and fell asleep, snoring like a chainsaw.