To Claim A Crown Book Three: The Host Of Death

Chapter Fourteen: Autopsy

Naomi stumbles, falling clumsily to her knees. She gasps inward, air rushing painfully into her lungs. She looks around her. Naomi eases to her feet slowly. She is standing at the wall of a building. She recognises the building. Naomi looks down at her hands and they are covered in blood. Her fingers begin to shake. She looks down at her feet and blood is gathered in a pool in front of her. She looks down at her arms, her chest, her body but she sees nothing. No cuts, no harm.

Naomi spins around and her bag is on the ground behind her, half open with her papers blowing threatening to get lost in the wind. Naomi rushes forward and she picks up the bag. She can hear cars on the road behind her. Naomi holds her bag against her chest and she rushes around the building, slipping in through the front door. It's the hospital. The human hospital. The smell of decay, blood, sweat and perfume gathers in her nose. Steriliser, bleach and tears.

Naomi stumbles down a hallway, trying to distance herself from the noise of people behind her. She pushes into a bathroom and locks the door. Naomi drops her back onto the floor and she walks to the basin, pausing when she spots her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is a mess, she is caked in snow. How long has she been out? What time is it? Raurlin must be worried. Naomi flicks the faucet upward and water gushes into the sink. She runs her hands under the water, trying to wash the blood clean.

The water mixes with blood and it floods down the sink. The blood is real. Where did it come from? Naomi heaves over as bile surges upward in her throat. She forces out several loud exhales, scrubbing her hands against each other roughly. Her eyes fill with tears and they blur her sight until all she can see is a river of red in the sink below her.

Raurlin pauses, turning his head with a frown. He inhales, holding the breath in his nose.

"Mr Tormundson?"

Raurlin turns to face the chief who is watching him with a deep frown. Raurlin glances at Jackson who is trying and failing to remain stoic.

"Forgive me, I thought I heard something. Please, as you were saying."

The chief clears his throat. "I don't understand why this shit is falling on my doorstep. It was on the border as far as I'm concerned it's not my jurisdiction but strictly between us our neighbouring towns are struggling with the amount of bodies piling up. It looks to be some kind of twisted serial killer and I want to stop him before he manages to tear his way through here."

Raurlin and Jackson follow the man into an elevator. The doors shut and he presses the button with the label 'morgue.'

"You can imagine my surprise when I find out that we've got two detectives here in our midst. I knew some people had moved into that old place but never expected two detectives. Oh a Godsend! I am very grateful that you have decided to help with the investigation."

Jackson clears his throat. "No, we have not come to a decision. I did make this clear. We will merely observe what you have thus far and see if we can assist."

The chief glances at both of them with a huff. "How'd such young guys become detectives anyway? Must be miracle workers."

Raurlin glances at Jackson and Jackson shrugs. The elevator doors slide open and Raurlin steps out into the hallway beside Jackson. He sucks in a breath, the smell of death and chemicals mixing in his nose. He bites down hard as the chief leads them into a double doored room. A young woman dressed in a white coat and with a name tag reading 'Jennifer' is standing over a body, writing down on her clipboard.

"Jenny," the chief directs, "these gentlemen may be able to assist us here. Please take us through what you've found."

Raurlin examines Jennifer closely as she turns to face them. He can hear as her heart begins beating faster, her cheeks flush. Raurlin steps forward, extending a hand. Jennifer looks down at his hand and hesitantly shakes his. Her palm is clammy. She clears her throat.