Inchoate Blood (CRUX I)

3. Dare to Pry

    The thundering music greets me before I even set foot into the five-story, imposing pub. It's been a while since I last visited but Marsq is still as I last remember it. Impressively distracting.

    As I pass the two security guards outside, I am greeted by a grand tall ceiling ornamented by a brilliant glass chandelier in the centre, glittering with colour from the disco lights. A large neon structure on the noir brick wall shows Marsq's logo, a vintage crest with letters that spells out its well-known name in cursive script. People are scattered across the floor and along balconies with drinks perched in their hand, chatting away and laughing. The loud booming of the music on the first floor makes the walls shake a little, making me wonder how people even hold conversations decently at a place like this. The dance floor is flooded with swarms of people, and almost every corner is occupied with couples briskly making out. The familiar rich odour of alcohol wisping in the atmosphere is the only thing keeping me sane as I manoeuvre my way around.

    Even for a late-night pub, people are dressed exquisitely, with ladies in luscious gold dresses and men in fresh suits and tuxedos. The club is famously known for holding events for the rich and respected in Copenhagen, Denmark. A few ladies passing me give me lingering glances, and one of them even winks at me while her friends giggle behind her. I avert eye-contact with them, something I would never have done if it was nights ago before the incident happened. One-night stands were not uncommon with my visits at these pubs, but this evening's plans involved me to carry out my part of the deal. The knife in the veiled pockets of my coat is already itching to feel the skin of the murder's neck.

    Making my way to reach a secluded gold-class bar on the second storey, I buy myself a quick drink before scanning the infrastructure of the club. To observe and plan any route of escape, I need to get a good observation of all exit doors and blocked areas before I do anything regretful. Holding firmly onto my own drift ring, I start to feel for any warmth, any sign of detection of its pair. It is possible for alchemists to locate the whereabouts of their drift ring partners because of the articulate runes embedded onto their drift rings.

    Runes are like unique barcodes that distinguish one alchemist's property from another's. And since I was the one who made both the drift rings for Jett and myself, I am the only person who knows every detail etched unto his drift ring. This puts me at an advantage because the murderer who has never seen my drift ring before should not be able to reverse this method and track me.

    As I fall into a light trance, concentrating on the presence and location of Jett's drift ring, a rushing sense of exhilaration to capture Jett's murderer imbues my very faint sanity. Although something warns me that I'm to be expected, the anticipation of killing this murderer for revenge starts to silence all warnings of danger in my mind. Am I stepping into a trap? Perhaps. Could she be waiting for me, knowing that I'd be lured by curiosity because of Jett's drift ring? Likely so. Yet nothing matters now but my awaited vengeance. And when the time comes, I will just make sure to kill her before she does me. Easy, right?

    Suddenly from behind, I sense the presence of a pair of eyes watching me. I turn cautiously, but only catch a glimpse of dark red hair disappearing behind a tall decorated column. Instantly suspicious, I chase after the figure who runs into a long corridor lined with many doors on both sides. The lights on the walls are dimmed and the carpet is thicker with dust. There is no-one to be found in this part of Marsq, but it seems to me this person knows it well. Too well for merely a visitor.

    Intuitively running after the figure's moving shadow, I can sort of tell from the shape of the cloak and from the clicking of heels on the floor that the figure is female. Nonetheless, catching up to her proves to be rather difficult. She is perfectly agile and swift in her motions, taking blunt corners into unexpected doors and winding along the maze-like corridor. All the chasing has me panting breathlessly with the alcohol in my body to thank. It almost seems like she is purposely driving me around in circles. Her presence seems in a way calculated. Almost as if... she is acting as a decoy.

    I clench my fist hard and try to focus on the drift ring amidst the chase. I can feel it warming up ever so slightly. Jett's drift ring must be nearby, but there are so many rooms in this corridor it is hard tell whether she is the murderer of Jett, or a subordinate of the murderer distracting me to let the real criminal hide. Whoever the figure is hiding, I need to get rid of her at once.

    Passing an open room, she turns again at the leeway from the corridor and heads towards a dead end in our path. The atmosphere has changed drastically in this corner and the same black walls now looks more daunting than elegant, as if the black paint is resembling old, stale blood. Weak flickering lights line the walls and in their glow, I can barely make out the metal and wood structure of the large door blocking our path.

    She runs towards it without hesitating. Perfect. Seizing my five transmutation needles from my belt, I aim and throw them pass the figure, towards the wooden door. I watch as they land fixed onto the sturdy wood, forming the shape of a circle, a transmutation circle.

    "Exprimo," I mutter to myself. The positions of the needles pierced against the door burn a yellow light as they reach towards each other. A circle with a pentagonal five-pointed star in the centre is completed in a yellow outline, marking the door under my control. It is the mark of one of the five orbits in alchemy.

    "Reformo," I then said, changing the door to a single solidified wall, metal ornaments and doorknob vanishing as they merged together to add strength. The yellow light slowly fades as the transmutation is complete. The figure, aware of my intention to block her way, turns hastily and tries to escape through me to the hallway again. I pull out a knife and fling it towards her, not yet injuring her but blocking her way, at least by shock. The blade of the knife cuts into the wooden door behind, inches away from her shoulder.

    The cloaked figure turns her head to me and I catch a fringe of dark red hair hiding her eyes. Knowing she has be caught, she finally pushes her hood back to reveal her face. A smile tugs at her mouth as I make my way towards her. I furrow my eyebrows together, showing frustration in playing into her cat-and-mouse chase. I will kill her if she wastes my time, even if she is not the murderer.

    She is the one to speak first. "It's rude," she points out, running a finger across the blade of my knife pinned beside her, "to treat women with violence."

    "I trust you aren't even injured yourself," I remark in a dangerous tone.

    She gives me another smile while tugging at my knife, pulling it out from the wall. In a skilful motion, she aims it towards me and throws it forcefully. It almost skims the side of my face, but I manage to just catch the hilt just in mid-air. At least the alcohol hasn't taken my accuracy away.

    "Much appreciated," I say, sheathing the knife back into the pocket of my coat. As I do so, I feel a sudden surge of warmth from my drift ring. Could this girl be the murderer after all? Jett's murderer should be in close radius, either waiting for me, or standing right in front of me.

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