Changeling | Hannigram AU | Rye Ambrose

TWO | EXT. CRIME SCENE - DAY

Camera flashes.

    Forensics milled about the crime scene, stepping over broken shards of glass and beat-in, wooden rails. The parlor was a wreck, with the newest murder victims trapped under a pile of rubble.

    Jack Crawford stared at the mess, and he roughly put out his cigarette. Alana stood by his side uneasily.

    "Two more bodies," said Jack, chest tight. "Killed in the exact same fashion."

    He carelessly shoved the cigarette bud into his coat pocket.

    "And still, we have nothing," he seethed. "No hints, no witnesses—not a single lead."

    He narrowed his eyes at Alana, and she knew exactly what he really meant. If she'd have succeeded in recruiting Will Graham, they'd most likely have more answers.

    "If you think about it," huffed Alana, averting her eyes from the bodies, "having Mr. Graham on our team would have only complicated things."

    Jack's brow twitched.

    "He's our only hope at solving this crime," he said firmly. He motioned towards the crime scene with a frown. "I think our 'progress' speaks for itself. We need him."

    "No doubt it'll attract a lot of attention," muttered Alana.

    Jack brows furrowed, but before he could speak, a woman walked towards them. Everyone's eyes followed her as she moved across the scene—and though they tried to be subtle about it, it was obvious. Her presence consumed the room.

    She stopped in front of Jack, pure-black eyes gleaming.

    "It's the exact same as yesterdays," she said with a faint shake of her head. "Candle wax, oils, ash... and their blood, it's—been stained."

    Jack's frown deepened. "Thank you, Ms. Katz," he muttered. "You're sure there isn't anything else? Something out of the ordinary?"

    Beverly pursed her lips, and the other team members clumsily returned to their work when she glanced back at the crime scene.

    "It's... like it was photo-copied," she said, shaking her head. Her black hair bounced off her shoulders, revealing more of the black horns jutting from her head. They were moderately long, curved in the slightest, but razor sharp. Alana eyed them nervously.

    "But," said Beverly, and Jack perked up in the slightest. "The damage that's been done here—that was recent. We haven't been able to pick up any evidence of who did it, yet, but we're working on it."

    Jack nodded with a huff and pulled out his cigarette tin. "Get it found out ASAP," he grumbled. "I need a break."

    With that, he left the room, leaving Beverly and Alana to themselves. Beverly rose a brow at him and glanced at Alana. "What's gotten into him?" she asked with a laugh.

Alana sighed, shaking her head.

    "I tried getting someone else on the case. His orders," she said. "I was... unsuccessful."

    Beverly tilted her head. "Who was it?"

    Alana glanced at her for a moment, pausing. She knew Beverly wasn't a threat—had to undergo strict screening procedures in order to work with them—but she still couldn't help but feel uneasy. It was in her nature.

    "Will Graham," said Alana. "Have you... heard of him?"

    Beverly's brows rose, and her lips curled into a smirk. "I have," she said. She glanced out the parlor, eyeing Jack's figure from afar. "Will Graham and I just happen to be friends."