|Saint Michael the Archangel | Dt. Michael Angel (who_is_like_god) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2016-04-17 23:15:00
WHO: Michael, Victor Brannigan, Azrael
WHAT: Crime scene photos, late night chats, nostalgic horror
WHEN: Late Saturday night
WHERE: Michael's office
WARNINGS: Memories of when Michael was dead in Lebanon AND discussion of murders
Michael's laptop closed with a click and he spun in his chair to face the back wall of his office. The boring white paint job was completely obscured by photo after photo of crime scenes, plastered up like a macabre collage. If people didn't know he was a homicide detective, they very well might have assumed he was the very serial killer he was trying to catch.
All the photos showed young women with small faces and brown hair, in various states of decay. This brute didn't leave messy crime kill scenes to comb over for clues, he simply buried his victims alive and left them there to die.
Michael remembered how that felt.
Behind him, the office had long gone dark as most of his co-workers had gone home. The officers who worked nights usually gathered at a different precinct which left this one eerily silent. With the rain pounding the roof outside, it was all a bit too atmospheric for Michael's liking and perhaps that was why he had chosen to post at all. More than anything, he didn't want to be stuck here, staring at these photos, alone.
His skin crawled as he remembered the how Lucifer had made him feel real fear for the first time, and cut his life off with a bullet. He remembered the absolute horror of being cut off from the prayers he heard constantly. There had been only silence, and the earth, swallowing him up. He remembered coming to slowly, a month later, and his body expelling the slime and dirt that had taken up residence in him for hours.
With a shiver, Michael stood from his chair and stalked over to the sofa he kept against the far wall. Maybe Victor was right and he should sleep, but that was when the nightmares greeted him with open arms and the familiar feeling of maggots behind his eyeballs as he came back to life. Desperately, Michael rubbed at his eyes and willed time to go faster. What was taking Victor so long!?
Victor's voice made Michael jump to his feet, his flaming sword drawn from nowhere in an instant and like a faithful lover in his hands. "Holy f-!" Victor screamed, falling backwards and dropping the bags of takeout he had brought with him.
"Victor," Michael said, feeling fairly sheepish. He let the sword go dark before letting it disappear completely. "Sorry."
"Uh-" Victor was now watching Michael as one would a cobra in strike position, and Michael couldn't blame him. The man was terrified of fire and he had once been burned terribly by Lucifer. "You okay there, big guy?" Victor asked, still on the floor.
"I was a million miles away," Michael mumbled, finally reaching out to help Victor up. He then gathered the food up and put it on his desk. He noticed Victor glance at the photos and immediately he felt guilty. Victor had an eidetic memory and it was likely he would remember those photos now forever. And he had asked the man here just so he wouldn't feel so alone. He felt selfish and terrible, but in no way was he going to suggest Victor leave.
"I don't blame you," Victor said, gesturing towards the photos. "Those are horrible."
"Mmm," Michael nodded. "They think he has another one. She disappeared a few days ago and fits the victim profile. Forensics tell us all the women have been starved for a week or so before he- Anyway, it's been less than that so we're trying to find him before we end up finding...well-" Michael waved his arms around.
"No wonder you've been here all weekend. Come sit down," Victor essentially pushed Michael towards the sofa, and Michael found himself grateful his friend was here. Most of his saints tended to see him as an authority figure and he doubted any of them would have actually pushed him anywhere. While Victor now knew who Michael was, he still didn't seem to buy into any of the hierarchy stuff. Michael had always been his slightly strange friend, and he always would be.
"Thank you for coming to help," Michael offered his friend. "This woman he has taken...her name is Irina, she deserves that." And even though it was for Michael's benefit that Victor was here, there was no doubting that Victor had been an excellent cop. If he helped save Irina, Michael would be grateful for that too.