Demonic Detective: Day One

Confrontation

Night was the best time to hunt.

The campsite was asleep. Quiet. Robin moved silently between the cardboard walls, knowing that the killer wasn't asleep either. She moved the furs aside, sneaking in.

"Hi, Robin. What are you doing here at this hour?"

Robin was looking at Poke silently. It all made sense.

"You killed Chris."

Poke froze, covering it up with outrage.

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything! You-- you were the one to kill him! Or Miller! I'm innocent!"

Robin pounced towards her without a warning. Poke yelped, falling on her back with Robin pinning her down. Poke's head was hammering.

"Robin, please!"

"I know you did it." Robin stated. "Chris came to you that night. He was having trouble sleeping, he couldn't handle the whitdrawal since he was going through with it for the sake of his new job. You killed him that night. You caused his heart to give out. A heart attack would be natural, especially since he had been taking drugs for years, but you for some reason wanted to hide this seemingly natural cause of death. I'm sure you wanted to make his death seem like a complete accident, perhaps by giving him insuline. That would explain the pocket knife you had with you, for easier opening of the containers. When he died, your first step was to move him out of your room. You dragged him out, but the wet sand was already stuck to him. Your room had always been damp because of the hole in your roof. You were trying to get him to his room, but you heard a noise outside and panicked. Instead of administering anything, you grabbed your knife and stabbed it into him before running away." Robin tilted her head. "The only thing I don't know is why you wanted to cover up a heart attack. I think it has somethig to do with what you are. You are not human either, are you?"

Poke went through a rainbow of emotions. She opened her mouth to protest, closed it immediately. She tried to struggle, just to give up right away. All fight left her body. She went limp under Robin, her voice defeated as she reluctantly started talking.

"Damn it. I suspected you weren't human, but I really thought you wouldn't sus me out." Poke turned her head to the side, refusing to look at Robin. "You're right. On all fronts, in fact! I'm a wrait. A spirit feeding off negative emotions. In my case it's fear. I've been working in a hospital before all of this, helping in cardiology wing. Everyone there was afraid, patients for themselves, their families for their loved ones. It was like a feast of fear. Then a privatization happened in our hospital, and they moved me to dermatology. It was too quiet in there! Nobody was afraid of anything there, it was just fucking dermatology! So when I wanted to feed-- I had to take fear straight from the depths of their brains. I found that it was too much for them to handle. First an old man died of a heart attack, and nobody batted an eye. Then a very young girl, and a teenager, and a healthy couple, and suddenly fingers were being pointed. That was too many heart attacks for a dermatology wing, even in a span of months. At first they didn't know who to blame, but then I got caught on camera coming to a patient's room and they were found dead next morning. Someone connected that I whenever the deaths occured I was on shift. They couldn't find out how I was doing that, so I avoided imprisonment, but I got blacklisted. I lost my job, and my apartament, and the source of food."

Poke took a deep breath.

"When I started living here, I felt that fear again. I could consume it safely again. I would have never killed anyone for it if things stayed as they were."

"But something changed." Robin offered.

"Of course! You! It's all your fault! You started fishing for everyone, so the fear of hunger nearly disappeared. You beat up Miller's men, and the fear of him went away. It's because of you I started going hungry again! Chris came to me that night, just as you had said. He was having it bad, shaking, insomnia, sweatiness, you name it, he had it. I was so hungry that I didn't think clearly. I just took it all, pulled the fear from the depths of his mind and feasted."

Poke took a deep breath before continuing.

"I knew that if he got found in my room, there would be suspicions. Elvira knows about my story, so does the police. So I knew I had to move him so that they wouldn't connect him with me. I thought I'd just drag him over, inject him with heroine, and leave him there. But I heard something on the way, someone was awake, walking around-- and I panicked. All I could think about was not letting this seem like a heart attack, so that it wouldn't be connected with my history." Poke suddenly looked up at Robin. "Why were you even looking into this? You're inhuman as well. You must have killed before. Why do you care?"

"Because you tried to get me arrested for it."

The woman did a double take.

"Only because of that? So if I pointed at anyone else, you'd leave it alone?"

Robin thought about it for a moment.

"I would have investigated it for the thrill of the hunt."

Poke shook her head.

"So now what? You've got me. You can't turn me in to the police, they'd never believe you."

Robin scoffed.

"Police? Why would I give you to them? This is my hunt, and you are my prey."

Poke tensed under her.

"Prey? You'll kill me, then?"

Robin nodded.

"I kill an occassional human, but I save many more with my medical training. Isn't it kind to sacrifice one to save few? Isn't it just?" Poke pleaded.

Robin leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a growl.

"That's true. Now I will sacrifice you to save those few."

She put her hand on Poke's throat and ripped. She clawed with her human fingers, getting to the flesh, all while using her other hand to silence any screams. Poke struggled and fought, but it was all for nothing. Robin ripped out her throat, watching the blood escape into the wet sand.

Silence.

Robin took a deep breath, intoxicated with the smell of the kill. She got up, slinging the body over her shoulder. This was not Infernum, she couldn't just leave the body anywhere. Much further down the river there was a sunken container that would do just fine.

Shame her kill had to be hidden, but so be it. She'd play by the rules of this world.

***

Hazal slid the feather back into her pocket, watching the demon take the body away through a crack in the wall. Morality and conclusions aside, the demon had been bloody effective. The nurse, that Hazal had not suspected of being inhuman, had confessed to everything. The demon had solved the case, and it took just two days, much faster than the police could have done it. It resulted in another body, which was not ideal.

Hazal was conflicted. The demon had murdered a killer, which was not inherintely bad, but it was still a murder. Murder for the hunt, but judging the demon's words, also to save people living there. Perhaps Hazal had been too quick to judge the newcomer.

The demon couldn't run unchecked, but perhaps she could use it. A widow wasn't the worst to deal with. She needed time to plan.

She moved back into the shadows, leaving the demon to its own devices.

For now.