Four - Grotesque

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Helloooo dear wonderful readers!

I have had loads of fun writing the build up but this is the climax sooo...

Enjoy ;D

[Trigger warning: This chapter contains graphic depictions of abuse, violence and death.]


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Special Agent Kace Dovanco

Carefully easing the Chrysler through the thick undergrowth, I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally reached the clearing. 

Thank goodness I'd gotten out of there without damaging the car. Or I'd never hear the end of it from Bran. Heaven forbid anyone who tries to lay the tiniest scratch on my brother's precious babies and thinks he can get away with it. 

Removing the key from the ignition I reluctantly stepped out of the cozy warmth of the heated car into the unwelcomed chill of the morning air. I threw on my coat and belatedly took in the scene before me. 

The place was in utter chaos and the area probably hadn't seen this much activity since the early 90's, judging by the eye-sore of a building in front of me. Dispatch had been called in earlier this morning when a random passer-by had spotted the baby spread-eagled on the ground, lying in a deep crimson puddle of his own blood and reported the unnerving sight. 

I trotted over towards the team huddled near the west wing of the building. I brought my hands up to my lips in a futile attempt to defrost my fingers using my lukewarm breath, rubbing and massaging to promote blood circulation. It would not be pretty if my fingers decided to detach themselves from the rest of my hand right now. As much as I hate the stubby twigs I have, they serve their purpose and there is nothing I can do to change them.

Burying my fists as deep into my coat pockets as they could go without puncturing holes - which I would neither have the skills nor time to deal with - I crouched down next to Special Agent Henry Fohker and faced the rest of the team. He gave me a grim smile.

"Hey, boss." Special Agent Jeremy Jones grinned cheekily and winked.

I arched an eyebrow before turning to Duffy Gabe, our greenest member. A medical examiner who proved herself to be wise beyond her years with an IQ score that challenged Einstein's.

"So what do we know so far?" 

"This poor child," Duffy glanced down at the black sheet before us, where I could almost make out the faint outline of the tiny body lying beneath it, "was stone cold by the time we got here...kinda hard to tell the exact time of death - at least, not until we get him back to the lab - considering the harsh weather."

I nodded. "C.O.D.?"

"Wound to the back of his head and judging by the insane angle he was lying at, broken neck too...and I guarantee a few cracked ribs. The wound was rather deep so I'm guessing the baby was dropped from quite a height. Wouldn't have died right away - bled out, most likely. No other bruises, scratches or any signs indicating he was tortured or was struggling before the fall...which is mighty strange, if you ask me."

I got up and began pacing, partly because I needed to keep moving if I didn't want my butt to freeze off and partly to get the wheels in my head spinning. What was the motive? Jealousy? Revenge? Accidental pregnancy, maybe?

"How old is the baby again?"

Duffy tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Bout 8-9 months? Not more than a year."

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