Murder Murder

 I was awakened early by a phone call from Charlie, my cop, who I fuckin' forgot to call the night before. It hadn't helped that a full bottle of Jack was killed the evening before after I sent Lass back to hell with a full 5 pack of chew canisters, a bottle of cheap sparkling white, and a bottle of some kind of rum that Levon had recommended Lass try.

I was pretty sure I was overdrawing my account on the last one, but I stopped giving a fuck after about my third swig that morning, and now at a fine 2:30 PM my headache was just starting to enter full swing.

"Rodney! Wake the fuck up, we got a problem." he yelled into my skull from the wireless landline.

I grunted into the handset, heading downstairs and walking over to Chekov on her rack. "I'm on my way..."

Charlie sighed "And don't bring that fuckin' shotgun. I don't want to explain that thing to my bosses."

I let my hand rest against her stock, and patted the butt of the gun. "Sweetheart he didn't mean it... We all love you." Turning away from the rack I said "Do I have time for coffee?' "No, welcome to the force, we don't get to make our own coffee." Charlie replied "Hurry it up, there's been a murder."

The sleep nearly completely left me as I realized what that might mean.

"Should I call Lass?" I asked

"Probably, but make it quick, and don't let him show, I don't need a shootout on my books. Get to Como, now."

"Alright alright, fine, I'm on it. Give me an hour and a half. I will call him up and be on my way."

I hung up the phone, called Levon and had him come pick me up, then began the descent into my basement.

I took a paint scraper with me, had it in that standard junk drawer every Midwesterner has, and scraped all the red candle wax off the silver of my circle, which had apparently gotten so hot from the day prior that it had completely tarnished, the once-silver star now black as pitch, and shining from the wax still stuck to the surface.

I replaced it with fresh candles, and called Lass's Name.

Lascivious appeared in my circle, wearing his usual attire but he had an addition to his usual ensemble, this time he had a long brown coat with gold buttons, flowing behind him in some nonexistent wind.

"Nice new digs Lass, there a reason why its billowing in a windless basement?"

"I had quite the surplus of souls after trading all that chew you gave me, and a Promotion would be... problematic. So I spent the extra on this coat from a skilled tailor."

"They have those in hell?"

"Sort of, but you didn't call me up so early to hear me talk about spending souls on tailoring services did you?"

"No, we gotta go. Charlie says somebody died."

"Black shit." He cursed, the coat, for its part, did not cease billowing despite the sudden change in tone.

We left the basement, Levon just pulling in, I threw on my coat as we walked out, heading towards the car, back to the taxi instead of the Lord Burgess. "Levon, we gotta go." I gave him the instructions "Someone's dead." I said.

"Shit, you got it Neo." He hit the gas and sped out.

My head was slamming against the inside of my skull, a combination of hangover, lack of coffee, and dehydration combining to shake the cocktail that was my brain into an agonized throbbing rhythm. When I arrived at the front gate to Como Zoo and Park, one of the premiere attractions of St. Paul, I saw that the whole zoo was closed down, and that there was a large amount of police vehicles right outside the front gate.

Concerned, I got out of the vehicle, Lass following, invisible, behind me, his coat still billowing despite the rather still air, uncharacteristic of the early autumn. We walked in the direction of the line of police, a cop stepping forward to hold up a hand "Hold it there... Guy." He said, taking in my choice of clothes "Halloween is a few months away there bud, and this is a crime scene, step off."

I scoffed, that he might suggest that I would choose something so mundane for All-Hallows. "Could you get Detective Charles over here? I am with him."

The cop looked at me for a second. "You're the guy? The psychic? Really?" He snorted, radioed in "Hey Charlie, ya wanna come pick Neo up from the front gate before he starts telling my fuckin future?" and waved me off.

A few minutes later, Charlie pushed past the police tape and grabbed me by the elbow, a couple chuckles escaping the police standing around.

"Sorry about these fuckwits, every beat cop gets a hell of a power trip from standing right outside the crime scene." Charlie handed me a cup of coffee. I wanted to hug him for a half second, and felt the burning of my tongue on the black gold.

"Like I said, we don't make our own coffee, we get ours from the store for a quarter day's pay per cup." Charlie said "You don't get a doughnut yet though, you haven't signed the paperwork, and from the vomit found at the last scene I suspect you aren't ready for that. Speaking of."

We were still walking when Charlie handed me a clipboard from somewhere in his coat. How he had a clipboard in his frigging jacket was not something he was willing to explain apparently. He also handed me a pen.

"Sign it, then the Chief can get off my ass."

"Charlie, you are getting stereotypical on me."
"Doughnuts are cheap, coffee is pricey, and real breakfasts are few and far between. Welcome to the force Rodney. Wish I could give you a badge but you don't get to be that cool."

"Damn it."

I had nearly finished the coffee when I felt a sudden rush of bile at the back of my throat, a burning sensation from the scent I recognized from three days prior.

Fecal matter, half-digested fecal matter, and blood... Gallons of it.

Hanging above what looked like the polar bear exhibit, sans bears for obvious reasons, were three people. One was Black and a woman, another a Hispanic male, the third White, also male. Each of them were hanging from a rope, that looked like it had their intestines weaved into it. The stench was awful, and I had a very hard time holding everything down, but with no bathroom handy, I knew I was going to need to hold it down... I was rapidly loosing that fight.

Charlie handed me some kind of plastic bag, and I vomited half the coffee into it.

The bodies had been cut open at the back, their lungs pulled through and strung along their ribcages like a hideous set of gory wings, like angels of blood and war. Carved into each of their chests was a valknut as well as a bunch of runes, mostly Futhark, the writing system of the Vikings.

"What does Lass think about this?" Charlie asked me as I stared at the horrible sight before me. "He's doing a qualia sweep right now."

"Qualia sweep?" "Yeah, Qualia is a fancy word for the "feelings" brought on by something, and its not so much the literal descriptions of sensations, like 'fuck my toe hurts' and more like 'The sky was a beautiful red, like it was resonating with thrumming colors.' the description of color as if it were sound might not make sense outright to you, but that's how it feels for that person in that moment."

"So, what, like a vibe check?" "Yeah pretty much. But Lass can read the 'vibes' of people long after they have passed, especially feelings of lust, but certain feelings are something all demons can read. Like murderous intent, if we are lucky, our guy might have left behind a strong enough qualia to track him by."

"So, what did you get from yesterday? You never called." Charlie asked, while he walked me towards the first evidence marker, the faux cobble streets were stained, How the hell did nobody notice? Tall blonde and evil was able to silence a shotgun, sure, but this whole park?

I explained to Charlie what happened, save the bit where I let the bad guy and illegal immigrant go, using the old "Guy slugged me and ran" story. "He said they get called into an abandoned factory near the old Ford place whenever they were organizing a job, looks like he didn't get called today, I managed to steal his cellphone and gave it to Lass."

Charlie squatted down near the number 1 card, a few 9mm casings were lying on the ground near the card. "Each victim was tied up" He gestured over to a few other cards nearby "Taken out execution-style, must have been tied up and taken out." Gestured to the first woman "Larissa Kauhfmann, according to her wallet, money was still in it." Gestured to the white man "Kole Wrothmann, a distant family member is who found them." Gestured to the Hispanic guy "John Doe, we still need ID on him, didn't have a wallet. He's the only one wearing zookeepers gear, so he was probably just wrong place, wrong time."

As we walked along the site, I caught a bright light from the corner of my eye I recognized, sure enough, turning my head I saw the shimmering form of Azrael the angel of death, gilded spines with pierced eyeballs watching every corner of the park. Next to Azrael was a pitch black shape, like a hooded robe, its form warped the air around it, the scythes carried by both were crossed against each other as they spoke.

"Hey uhh, Charlie?"
Charlie looked up from another section of the scene that he was in the middle of explaining. "What?" "There is literal death himself, and a subordinate of his over there." I gestured in the direction of the chatting entities.

"Rodney, you have got to be shitting me." The more I looked at the hood of Death, the more I knew I didn't want to see what lay beneath. "I wish I was, I'm serious Charlie, as the grave."

"Well, go see what they want! I will go back to doing my actual police work so I can get an actual verdict instead of whatever 'death himself' has to say." He walked off, continuing to examine the scene. I approached the scary Angel and even scarier Death.

"Lo, the titular soul, Rodney Jordan Wakefield, in his thirty-sixth year, whose end I cannot see." The pitch black shape spoke with the voice like a rumbling stone coffin lid, threatening to close but never truly ending.

"Thy coming is fortuitous, for now I may spake demands passed to me from on high." It continued "Thou must ensure that what these souls bring fourth comest not to pass, and that the Old Serpent continues his sleep, fitful though it may become by the actions of these fools. Else thy end shalt be brought with blood and fire, so spakest the Seraphim."

I looked into the hood, like a wide gash in reality, less like a cloak and more like the definition of darkness, and replied "I'm trying, these guys are slippery..."

"Do or do not, there be no try."

Did... Death just make a Star Wars reference? "Wait, didn't you just say that the Seraphim are threatening to kill me if I don't pull this off?"

"Tis so mortal, from the lips of Gabriel himself." It shifted, a motion which looked less organic and more stop-and-go, like Claymation done by a mad sketch artist.

Death turned to the angel near It. "Finally I shalt takest my leave, I leave thee to thy ministrations to these poor souls, damaged though they may be, for at their core they remain pure, and I may reap them not."

Death turned around, and there was a shift in the atmosphere, like if you were to stare directly at someone, not blink, but the world goes black for an instant anyway as if you had, and It was gone.

I turned to Azrael, who pivoted their attention to me, staring with each eye on each spike, like a dozen eyestalks turned to face me. The golden aura in the center of the cage shining like sunlight through crystal. She spoke with the resonance all angels spoke with, pure and nearly robotic, but caring.

"How are you holding up Rodney?" She asked. "Been better, rough week so far." She looked up "For both of us it would seem."

I looked in the direction of the horrible massacre in front of her, its horribleness slightly dimmed by repeated exposure, I was sure this was inflicting some kind of trauma but it was something to deal with later, probably with something that burned the throat. "What did Death mean by the Old Serpent?" I asked. "I don't fully know, and I can't fully say. We are beings of His will, you have a job to do, and you have discovered a truth about yourself that you weren't prepared for. What I can say is the first door, the Eye, is opened by this rite. There is power in this ritual, old power, and it will draw the attention of something ancient if it is completed." She moved the scythe through the air, the torn remnants of a soul screaming out of one of the bodies, unheard by the police around us.

I don't know why angels can talk to me invisibly but demons can't. Maybe it's something about my bloodline. Or is it just because they are made differently? God I was getting a headache, and I don't think I could blame the concussion anymore.

"There are two other doors to be opened, you will not be able to close the second once opened, the third will throw itself open when the third rite is completed. The third rite will require vast amounts of blood, while the second will need a personal sacrifice, willingly given." She moved again, another shattered soul drawn out of the body. The Cherubim of death gripped her scythe, repositioning, stepping toward the final soul.

"These souls are broken, they will need time to heal, they have suffered torment greater than even hell's deepest circles. Now you see Rodney why you must stop these horrible people, else such suffering becomes the norm for all of you."

I looked as the angel went to reap the last soul, she hesitated. "You have questions." she let the scythe rest against the cobbles. "I do. But I wouldn't want to intrude." She looked at the body, gave it a questioning look. She glanced back and said "He is willing to allow it. So I will answer until he desires to be taken."

I looked at the body myself, wondering at the apparent sacrifice they were making for a simple conversation... I looked back at the Angel. "Okay." I leaned against a nearby railing, probably a no-no for a crime scene but fuck it.

"What did I do when Lascivious's boss showed up in my basement?"

"You drew upon your Grace, what little you hold. For me, it is what I am, for all those who walk in the army of God. But for you, it is a reserve, an extension of the will of the Holy Spirit, the little part of Him imparted by the breath of life with Adam."
"How do I make it stop hurting?" I still felt that soreness deep inside, it refused to fade, and it hurt worse when I drank, which I had done too much today.

"Well, for one thing, stop drinking in such excess." "This is Minnesota, not happening." "Fair."

"For another thing, seek human contact, friendship, acts of kindness, love, joy, in short... be a good human. Our Grace is powered by your safety and joy, and you have the advantage of being able to produce it as well as utilize it. More is the pity of the weakness of your blood, were you stronger you could do greater acts of power, miracles. For now, your Fury, the wroth of the truly righteous, is all you can use, and even that is weak."

"Can you teach me?" I asked, wondering what sort of miracles I could perform. "Maybe its like a muscle, the more I use it the more I can use it." I mused.

"Perhaps, but teach you I cannot. It is not in my power nor purpose to teach, that is the job of the angels of learning. You could try Uriel, but I would recommend Nelkhael. He is the seeker of understanding, Uriel just desires truth."
"Aren't those the same thing?"
"Perhaps, but in all my years as an angel, I have discovered that Truth becomes more and more difficult to quantify, and Uriel ponders much on the subject, too much." She lifted her scythe, and the final soul left, in silence, with a quiet "thank you" on the wind. I saw at least four cops shiver at the passing soul.

"One last question. What do I tell Charlie?" "The truth, Rodney, whatever that might be." She turned her brilliant form away, and faded into the late-afternoon light.

I looked around for Lass, who I found hiding behind a zoo-themed photo booth nearby. "Is it gone?" "Yes, they both are."

"Oh thank the Hells, I thought I was going to get obliterated." He gestured to the corpses "Nasty business here Rodney, I haven't seen this much magic since Moctezuma and no mistake." He said the name of the old Aztec king the way the Aztecs themselves might have used, before the Conquistadors changed it to be easier to say.

"What are we looking at here Lassie, any hits on our guy?"
"The Qualia is all over the place. It's a mess, fear, horror, agony, pain, suffering, it's all here but it's chaotic, swirling through the air around us like it's in a storm. Even a bad mood is enough to twist it, I'm not going to be able to track anything in this mess." I kicked at a loose stone. "Damn." "It's not all bad." Lass moved over towards the bodies. "I can at least read the Futhark and Stave Runes all over here. Carved into the bodies, and the ones carved into reality itself... The gist is they are calling out to something, 'opening the eye' to something, so that it can See us. This rite is solid, probably going to burn this violent scene into the area for a generation or two. They had better move the polar bear pen, or they won't have any polar bears left. They might tear each other apart, or worse. There are also a lot of those silence runes about, and a few runes that are burned out with all these cops about, but it was probably meant to force you to look away or avoid the area.
It's only one piece, but now that I know what I am looking for, I can sense when something is going to kick off next."

I looked at all the nothing that Lass was looking at, what was likely a mélange of colors and scents and sensations, and the feelings of those sensations, and the images carved into those sensations by bad men with a wizard streak in his amber eyes. "Lass, I don't think we have time for the next kick off, Asrael says that the second door won't close once opened, and that the third door will practically open itself with enough bloodshed."

"Shit..." Lass looked deep in thought. "Guess our only option is that abandoned factory Rodney. I can't really help here, sorry darling."

"Charlie! Come over here."

Charlie got up from where he was, and headed behind the phonebooth, where Lascivious was hiding, still visible. He paled when he saw my demonic friend.
"Jesus fucking Christ, you gotta warn a guy, I just about screamed." "Sorry Charlie, meet my partner in crime, this is Lascivious."

"Hi there." Lass eyed him up and down, and for once, was not impressed.

"What the hell am I witnessing this man made horror for Rodney?" Charlie asked "Hey, I am anything but man-made. Unless human women pull their kids out of a pitch black pool in the darkest circle of hell nowadays."
"Honestly? With my kids? I wouldn't be surprised." Charlie replied, his Cop face fell over him, as he swallowed whatever fear or disgust he had for Lass. We filled him in on the situation.

"So you are telling me, magic is real." Charlie said. "This guy can't give me a lead right now on anything going down here, because the magic is so fucked up that it effectively pissed all over the scent, and our only lead left is the abandoned factory near the Ford place?"

"And that they might try to kick off the end of the world or something, yeah." I replied. "I don't know much about giant serpents, but if its anything like the biblical variety, it can't be good."

We all just sorta stood there for a while, Charlie sighed and reached into a coat pocket, tapping out a cigarette, offering one to Lass, who took it gratefully. Lascivious, never one to not be flashy, lit his cigarette with his thumb, and offered his flaming thumb to Charlie for a light.

"I thought..."

"Don't even, I'm not letting yet another cliché happen." I bit down on the question I was going to ask.

"I can get a warrant in a couple hours, in case we need to make any arrests, I can have one of my guys write one up while I wrap up here... But I can't just make an arrest without much evidence. Besides and artists interpretation of what the lady living next door to the first victims house, we don't know our targets face, and I'm pretty sure the word of a demon isn't going to hold up in court."

Lass crossed his arms "The irony is thick enough to cut, considering where most Lawyers end up."

"So what are we gonna do?" I directed the question to Charlie.
"We are going to wrap up everything here, cleanup is going to roll through, and the Zoo staff are going to be questioned, my job is to figure out who the perpetrators are, and your job is to stake out the site with Lass, I will join up with you later, but you best get going."

I used Lascivious's stolen cellphone to call up Levon, and we headed out to the stakeout site.