ʀᴀғᴇ ᴀúʟʟᴀ ᴀ ʟᴀ sᴏᴍʙʀᴀ ᴅᴇ (maginus) wrote in repose,
Re: Audrey's house: Hugh & Rafe
"Sounds good," Rafe offered, giving Hugh a small nod. Even though he knew that Audrey hadn't gone anywhere but up the main flight of stairs it wouldn't hurt in the least to check the rest of the house. There were all kinds of things that could confuse and change scents and Rafe wasn't leaving anything to chance even if he was extremely confident that his nose was giving him the right information. Given the sorts of crazy things that went on in Repose on a regular basis he was starting to think that literally anything was possible. So Hugh checking downstairs wasn't just a tactic, a way to give the other man something to do; it was genuinely a good idea to do a sweep of the lower levels as well.
With that Rafe started to head up the stairs, treading lightly and continuing to listen for any signs that there was anyone (or anything) else in the house with them. Audrey's scent continued strongly all the way up the stairs to the upper level and once he reached the second floor he let his nose lead him whilst keeping his senses open to anything else that might end up being important.
That was easier said than done, however, when the scents pooling out from one of the bedrooms were so powerful that they were almost dizzying. Rafe actually paused outside the room, his features screwing up in a full grimace, a grunt of distaste his way of acknowledging and agreeing with the wolf's growl of displeasure. There were something very wrong here.
Ink, burning, something powerful and almost menthol. And something else. Something foul and thoroughly disconcerting.
Sulphur.
Something bad had happened. Rafe was certain of that even before he got his first look at the interior of that room, its door wide open to bear its scattered and chaotic innards. The ruins of that room were a stark and shocking contrast to the tidiness and careful organisation of the rest of the house, casting the wrongness of the whole situation into even harsher relief. The wolf shifted and paced, restless and uneasy, growling low and steady and near constantly. Rafe lingered on the threshold as he looked around the room, taking in the books strewn in every direction, many of them with their pages bared or lying flat on the ground, haphazardly opened in the spill with their spines bent and creased. There were objects scattered across the carpeted floor that Rafe suspected had been hanging on the walls until very recently, pictures and various other decorative items that Audrey had obviously hung for one reason or another. Morning light shone through the open curtains and spilled across the floor, catching on shards of broken glass, presumably from the pictures that had been tossed or knocked from their places.
Bad, Rafe decided, was an understatement. Something terrible had happened here.
"Hugh?" he called without turning his head, still standing on the threshold looking in at the mess of what had once been a soft and pleasant bedroom. As reluctant as he was for Hugh to see something this troubling it just wouldn't be fair to conceal it from him, and it wouldn't be right. Whatever had happened to Audrey, it had been localised to this one room and even though Rafe had no ideas what, if anything, could cause such a thing then it was entirely possible that Hugh knew someone who did.