They swung open the cage door, cattle prods at full power, humming with electricity. The man lazily lifted his hands in surrender. "Now, now." He said softly. His voice was like velvet. "No need. I'll do as you please." The man in the cage said, his...
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"End of discussion Dimetreaus," Vsevolod snapped as he stood. Dime clamped his jaws shut and tightened his fists.
How could Vsev not see the importance of getting the bones properly analyzed by a lab, even if what he said about his grandmother was true? Even if his fathers body had been closely guarded by the insane woman, why not get the bones analyzed? Why not bury them properly?
He knew why. Dime knew he was on thin ice even being in possession of the bones in the first place. It was only Vsev's willingness to overlook a perceived slight that kept Dime in halfway decent standing. So instead, he stood, and muttered "sir" beneath his breath as he turned and marched from the office.
It hadn't been the first time he'd been pulled into Vsev's office to argue his point, and it likely wouldn't be the last either. This time though, he was determined to do something about it, rather than rely on the stubborn man he'd left behind. Vsev was blinded by a fierce love for his grandmother, regardless of if she was sane enough to truly deserve it. It was easy to feel that way. But Dime knew what was right, and he couldn't give up his loyalty to the concept no matter the hardship it would cause.
He went back to his quarters within the manor. They were sparse; not at all like the trappings he kept back at home. The spare bedroom seemed to have been empty for a very long time- like no servants had lived here in ages. It made sense to him; Vsev, as stubborn as he was, was too good a man to keep maids.
Next to the elaborate four poster bed with its draping silvery curtains, Dime had pulled in a white folding table. On it lay the length of the body bag with its sparse few bones. He'd spent hours studying them, and researching what he could about forensic anthropology, but the bones kept their secrets close at hand. It was obvious that the skull was damaged, but he couldn't tell how the person had come to meet their demise beyond a general prognosis of 'head trauma.'
It didn't match with the peaceful death Vsevolod had described for his father.
He was getting nowhere alone, and Vsev wasn't going to allow him to seek help outside of Ilaross, so he only had one other option.
Samuel.
Dime zipped up the body bag, sliding it onto the thin sheet of reinforced cardboard that held it stiff, since the bones within had nothing to hold them together. He was about to leave when the Campbell samples caught his eye. Tossed in a dismissive way onto the night stand, Dime felt a strange pang of guilt at the thought of leaving them behind. Clara Campbell's father might be mad, but Dime had made his promises. He scooped them up and tucked them into his pack before he left.
Samuel, as everyone else here had come to know him, was the closest thing the town had to a coroner. In reality, he'd only completed three years of medical school in the hopes of becoming a full fledged doctor, but that was before...
He shook himself as he slid into the driver's seat. There was no point in reminiscing on what used to be. What was important now was the present.
