Pentacle

Fragmented Horrors Beyond the Yellow Tape

Under the shadow of night, red and blue lights splattered the sky, casting their eerie glow on the neighboring homes of a once-quaint two-story house, now cordoned off by yellow police tape. Neighbors huddled around the yellow barrier, their whispers filled with curiosity and fear over the grisly fate that had befallen the poor, unfortunate souls who resided in the home.

A black SUV rolled onto the street, its subtly flashing dashboard the only indication it was another police vehicle. Officers parted the crowd as a tall, well-built man in a dark suit and tie stepped out of the car.

"Detective Faulkner," an officer greeted him with a nod as they walked toward the house.

"Gilbert," Faulkner returned the nod. "How's the mini officer?"

"Loud. Never knew a tiny baby could make so much noise."

"Well, with a dad that's such a big mouth, what did you expect?" Faulkner said with a grin.

"Yeah," Gilbert managed a small laugh before his features quickly turned somber. "I was the first on the scene.... It's pretty bad in there."

"Wilder?"

"Got here a while ago."

Detective Faulkner offered a comforting pat on Gilbert's shoulder before entering the house. He navigated through a sea of forensic photographers until he reached a door sealed with yellow tape. He ducked under the tape and entered a bedroom, where an officer handed him gloves. He quickly covered his nose with them to shield him from the nauseating stench of charred and decaying flesh that permeated the room.

"Detective Faulkner, kind of you to grace us with your presence," a woman said, crouched over one of two skeletal remains.

"We can't all sleep in our cars or listen to the scanner to pass the time," Faulkner replied, grinning as he donned his gloves, his stomach adjusting to the horrific odor. "And we've been partners for five months. Is it that hard to call me Eugene, Denise?"

Denise rose from the victim, her icy blue eyes narrowing as her lips formed a scowl.

"Right, Detective Wilder. What we got?" Eugene asked, ignoring the snickers from the officers as they continued their work.

"Two vics. Male and female, both in their forties," Denise said, watching Eugene's eyes dart around the room. She'd only been his partner for a short time, but she recognized his calculating gaze. He was trying to piece together the series of events that led to the gruesome scene before them. "Coroner suspects cause of death is some cocktail of acidic chemicals—like the other two cases. And look at this."

Eugene moved to join his partner, crouching to inspect a silver chain that hung around the victim's neck. Pulling a pen from his jacket pocket, he used it to lift the necklace, revealing a pendant: a star encircled by a ring. He eyed the second body, noticing a similar silver cord melded to the bone.

"Same pentacle as the others," Eugene noted, his face sullen.

"Pentacle?" Denise echoed as if the word was foreign. She raised an inquisitive brow as she handed Eugene a bag to put the necklace in.

"A Wiccan talisman of protection," Eugene explained, moving to collect the other pendant.

"Humph," Denise scoffed, standing. "Doesn't look like it did them much good."

"We might be dealing with someone targeting occult members."

"A serial killer," Denise said, shaking her head as Eugene handed the bags to an officer. "Just lurking around."