Demonic Detective: Day One

Investigations

Graham Willkers was overlooking the work of the team in the enclave.

Charlene would never admit it out loud, but she hated working with the man. He was just standing there, silently, watching them. She felt like he didn't like anyone in the station, he merely torelated them.

She focused on her work, trying to ignore the man's looming presence. She wasn't the only technician on site, so at least the detective's focus was divided. 

Charlene scrubbed the dirt from below the victim's fingernails, putting it on a glass plate.

"Doesn't look like there is any blood..." She murmured to herself, preparing the solution to check it for sure. "Just dirt. I'd better check all the nails."

She went through them one by one.

"No blood or foreign skin at all." She took a photo of the victim's hands. The flash blinded her for a moment. "Time to take the fingerprints."

"Aren't you going to check his teeth?"

Charlene gasped, flinching back. There was a woman crouching just a step away, which she hadn't noticed before. The woman's black hair was so long that it was resting on the ground when she was in that position, but she didn't seem to mind that it was laying right in the dirt. She was just looking at Charlene with grey eyes, her head tilted. She was waiting for a reaction.

"His... teeth?" She repeated. The woman nodded.

She was wearing old clothes akin to the ones the other people living there were wearing.

"Yes, teeth. If he wasn't fighting back with his hands, then his teeth would be his best weapon."

Charlene looked around. Willkers was nowhere to be found, probably for the best. He would berate her for going against the protocol and listening to some random woman.

"That's not something we usually check... but might as well." Charlene murmured, taking a small swab stick. She curled the victim's lips, swabbing the teeth. She sprayed a solution at the sample. It showed an entire zoo of bacteria, but no blood.

"Nothing." Charlene announced. "He didn't bite the attacker."

"He was killed by a coward." The woman tilted her head the other way, looking at the body.

"How come?" Charlene furrowed her brow.

"If he was killed in a fight, he'd have blood or skin behind his nails or his teeth, or any injuries besides the killing blow. Since he doesn't, he has either been killed by someone deceiving him, who would not have expected to strike, or in his sleep. He was not sleeping, the blow was dealt while he was standing, since the blood is poured over his chest as well."

"Jeez, someone watched a lot of NCIS." Charlene playfully jabbed. The woman just looked at her neutrally. "Oh, damn-- I'm sorry. I just said that without thinking-- I don't even know if you have tv here, and if you do you probably don't have any time to watch it. Just-- ignore that. I'm sorry."

The woman nodded. She didn't look annoyed or angry, thankfully.

"How did he die?" The woman asked, changing the topic back around.

Charlene pointed at the knife, still stuck in his throat. The woman shook her head.

"There is too little blood around. Humans bleed a lot when killed."

"Weird wording, but you're right. There is remarkably little blood for a stab wound in a throat. Even with the blood on his chest, there should be much more."

The woman nodded.

"The knife is not what killed him."

"I beg to differ."