Spawn Of A Mad-Man

Loss

24/3/2047

They spent hours on the hunt, searching every street necessary.

Until they came upon him.

Drenched in blood, broken and bruised.

They rushed to the body at once.

As Wing ran their hands across him, feeling his wrist, chest and neck, they quickly discovered the truth of the occurrence.

He was dead.

His skin cold as ice and heart as still as the cobbled road beside him.

Sat in his hand, slightly cracked, was a phone with it's camera still on; and still recording.

They wasted no time, watching every frame of the film.

It told a story of three officers, representations of fairness, lawfullness and justice, who pushed the barkeep to the ground and beat him.

They asked him questions regarding the Winged Killer.

They seemed to strongly believe he knew of the Killer's identity, but of course he told them nothing, and that last piece of loyalty cost him his life.

The officer's were made up of two males and one female, and their names were clearly uttered in the video: Arya Windthrow, Steven Dahmer and Andrew Fenten.

It wasn't long later that they approached a police station, located closest to the crime.

Walking in, they checked the room.

A few dozen officers where scattered about the place and in front of the door sat a man at a desk, who they assumed to be a receptionist.

"Hello, I'd like to speak with the Chief at this establishment." They spoke with a serious and careful tone, ensuring no misunderstanding.

The man rolled across to a computer, before looking towards Wing.

"Is the Chief expecting you?" He was kind but clearly bored.

"No, but he will want to speak with me." They were confident. "I have information regarding the Winged Killer."

The man stopped for a second, looking at Wing for any sign of humour.

"What is your name?" He asked.

"Mx A. Harbringer." They replied.

"One moment." He moved towards an office located at the back of the station.

The more they looked around at the officers here, the more sick they felt.

These were supposed to be heroes and protectors and yet they were responsible for the death of a friend, an innocent.

"YOU.SHOULD.KILL.THEM.ALL!" The familiar creature recommended.

"Innocent people don't deserve to die," they whispered "these people will only lose their lives if they dare stand in my way."

"BUT.YOU.DESIRE.THEIR. DEATHS!" It uttered.

"I desire everyone's deaths, but that doesn't mean it's my place to take them." They reasoned as if it was themselves they were trying to convince. "And it isn't your place either. Begone beast. You are not needed here."

Finally, the receptionist returned.

"Chief would like to see you now." He gestured down to the back. "His office is just down there. Just walk straight in."

"Thank you." They said.

The walk to the room was fascinating, the look of desperation across the entire station.