better man/worse than nicotine » arthur ketch

thirteen: it's a problem, truly.

so please, could i be selfish with your body? 'cause i don't think i could share you with nobody.

"All right, well. To be blunt: we have no idea what we are dealing with here," Serena confesses.

"Okay, well," I pull the chair out and sit down, crossing one leg over the other. "What d'ya got so far?"

Mick nods to Serena who points her remote at the screen at the front of the room, pictures appearing.

It doesn't take an idiot to know exactly what we're dealing with. I can tell just from one single look. But as I glance at the others in this room, I realize they're all confused. Even Ketch.

I try to hide my smirk, settling back in my chair. Let's have some fun.

I raise my eyebrows. "All I'm seeing is tattoos."

"That's all we see as well," Serena sighs. "There's been five victims in the last month, each drained of their blood. They were found hanging by their wrists."

"We thought we were dealing with a Djinn," Mick begins, sparking some hope in me, "but the sixth victim, a teenage girl, said her hallucination was not..."

"Paradise on Earth, if you will," Ketch finishes. "She described it as a nightmare. 'Living Hell,' I believe she said."

A heavy sigh leaves my lips, my hand pinching the bridge of my nose. All the fun is gone now. Never mind. "Awesome."

"What?"

I lift my head, giving Ketch a reassuring look before returning to Mick and Serena. "Okay, well, for starters, I knew we were dealing with a Djinn just by the looks of that first picture."

Serena raises an eyebrow. "The tattoos?"

"Yeah." I shake my head. "And the eyes. I've seen 'em in person. But now I see why you didn't think it was a typical Djinn."

Mick leans onto the table. "You're saying I was right? This is a Djinn?"

"Yeah, it is. It's...a different species, though. That picture there was probably taken before they changed."

"Changed?"

"Yeah, they um...they're not shape shifters, but they can blend in. Sam and Dean ran into one of these a few years ago. They're nasty fuckers."

"Pardon?"

I ignore Mick's blatant shock at my language and turn to Serena. "Do the victims happen to have uh...liquified or jellied insides?"

She gives me a strange look. "Yes."

"Okay. And," I take a deep breath, "did they have a blue handprint on them? Anywhere, like a branding?"

"Yes."

"Bingo," I nod, turning back to Mick. "You've got a Djinn."

"Can these be killed in the same way?" Alton speaks for the first time, weapons very clearly being his thing.

"You mean silver and lamb's blood?" He nods. I shrug. "Yeah, I mean, unless you've got some toy that works better, a silver knife dipped in lamb's blood is it. Or you can," I pause to chuckle, remembering how Dean handled it, "you can always bash their head in."

"You said you've seen one," Serena inquires, and I can tell it is mostly from the curiosity.

So I decide to elaborate. "Yeah. I was sixteen. It...caught me. Sam and Dean barely made it there in time and I spent a good two weeks in the hospital after. It was rough, they're not friendly creatures. At all."