disenchanted | 𝘀𝗮𝗺 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 (on hold)

━ one.

ONE | WELCOME TO THE BLACK PARADE

Even in my younger and more vulnerable years, I had a strong moral compas. I suppose that's why I became a detective; to fight for justice and protect those who cannot protect themselves. I was always a protector, or at least that's what my little sister would say. Jean always looked up to me. She even followed my footsteps down the dangerous path of law enforcement. When our parents died, I was a newly turned adult and she was fifteen. Even though I was only three years older, she still treated me and thought of me as a fifty-three year old man with years of wisdom to teach. Jean and I have always stuck by each other through thick and thin. She was all I had since our parents were deadbeat addicts who neglected us. I wanted to protect her and keep her safe. I didn't want them to do to her what they've done to me.

"Atticus," Jean called out for me. I looked over towards her and met her eyes, "are you alright, bro?" My heart always clenched when she called me bro in her small, soft voice. Though she sounded feminine and cute, she was a force to be reckoned with. She was strong and angry.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm alright, Scout." I replied, sending a soft and reassuring smile her way, "I'm just thinking about our new case. I have some leads and ideas, but some are a bit out there." I ran a hand through my hair and rested my head on it as I watched her nod and purse her lips together.

She let out a sigh and relaxed in her chair with her arms crossed over her body, "We've never seen anything like this before. The last reported case of people getting their hearts ripped out in alleyways was thirteen years ago. That was a cold case, too."

"How reassuring," I huffed, glancing outside the window. The sun was beginning to rise. Grabbing my binders and the cup of coffee, I nodded my head towards the exit of the coffee shop and we headed out to the precinct.

"Sergeant!" I heard a voice call out. I looked towards the direction that the voice came from and saw one of my detectives, Barbara Garrow, jogging my way.

"What can I do for you, Detective?" I smiled politely at the brunette. Babs was a spunky sort of girl. Real jumpy, too. Like a lot of people on my team, she came with a sad backstory. Her mother left her in a dumpster when she was six and she was found by a restaurant worker the next morning. He formally adopted her and took care of her until she was eighteen.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Babs?" She chuckled with her hands on her hips and a bright smile on her lips as she breathed moderately, catching her breath.

I shrugged and pretended to think about it for a moment, "Many, many times, detective."

She playfully rolled her eyes before readjusting her posture and dropping emotion from her face, "There are two FBI agents waiting in your office, sergeant." And with that, she walked back to her desk and got back to work.

"Looks like you have your work cut out for you, Red." Jean joked, taking a sip of her coffee and walking towards her desk. She was right, I do have my work cut out for me. We hated when the FBI got involved because that meant the probability of them being caught was low.

I walked into my office and closed the door behind me. I examined the two agents' appearances. One was a ridiculously tall man with a brown Gerard Way hairstyle and an awkward smile. The other was a bit shorter and eyes that read troublesome. His hair was blonder and his eyes were unnaturally green with wrinkles surrounding them. All in all, they both looked like they walked off a movie set and decided to play FBI for a day.

"Welcome to Chicago, agents. I'm Sergeant Woods. What can I do for you?" I welcomed them as I leaned against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other.

"Hi, I'm Agent Lennon," the shorter one introduced himself before pointing towards the L'Oréal model, "and this is Agent McCartney. We're here to investigate your case with the missing hearts."

I had to stifle my laugh and I nodded along, "You mean like The Beatles?" I questioned as I watched their responses. They glanced at each other, displaying that my response wasn't what they expected.

"Uh, well, yes." The taller one stuttered, shifting his weight onto one of his legs.

Deciding to play into their game and see how legit they might be, I nodded, "So what do you need to know about the case? I'm sure your boss filled you in."

"Yeah, but we'd like to hear it from you." The Ken doll agent responded with an almost sarcastic smile. He could use some moisturizer, his wrinkles aren't doing him any favors.

"People are getting their hearts ripped out in alleyways. What else do you need to know?" I sassed the two. I've had the FBI take over my cases before and they were nothing like these two phonies.

"You're not going to be much help, are you?" The shorter one, 'Lennon', commented in a snarky tone, causing the giant to elbow him and send him a death glare.

"I'm not in the business for helping fake agents. You're welcome to tell me who you really are and what you want, but I'm not doing anything for two little boys playing dress up," I smirked at the boys before going towards my desk and taking a seat in the chair. God, I loved that chair. Soft, comfortable, and spins. "If not, door's behind you." I pointed my pen towards the door and took pleasure in walking them out of my office.

The day was long and boring. Almost all the leads were a dead end. The autopsy showed claw marks, supporting one of my more outrageous theories. But it couldn't be true. The only thing that brought joy at the end of my more miserable days was coming home to my beloved cat, Helena. I named her after a song by My Chemical Romance. I enjoy ranting to her about my day while she sits on my lap and watches Aristocats. It's our nightly routine but I'm not complaining about it. I pray that those fake agents won't be there tomorrow.