the 'no free time' club Who: Mannix and December Where: The morgue When: Late Afternoon
While it was hard to stay dry with the weather as it was, Mannix appreciated the chance to get out of the house earlier than usual. He’d stopped by both crime scenes to see if he could pull anything off them, but so many people had been in and out of both that it was hard to decipher which scent to follow. The scent of werewolf, however, was all over one of them, which was why he packed a round of silver bullets and grabbed his machete. He had a small collection of them at this point, and this particular one had been dipped in silver before being sharpened. If he was going to be hunting werewolves, he might as well be properly armed.
“Afternoon,” he smiled as he pushed open the door to the morgue. It smelled like death inside, but that didn’t slow him down. It was just his amped up scenes picking up on fresh corpses and he’d get used to it soon enough. December glanced up from her work. “Hey,” she greeted. “Anything?” she asked, looking back at the ragged corpse on her table. She really hoped he had something to tell her, but who knew. So far there wasn't much beyond what they already knew – vampires and werewolves decided to go batshit.
“Everything outside’s worthless. I can’t smell a thing in this rain, but maybe Jack’ll have better luck,” he said, coming over to inspect the dead. The vampire deaths weren’t that gruesome, but the others were brutal. “Definitely werewolves, but not any I was familiar with. Again, a werewolf might be better with the scent thing.” It wasn’t much and it annoyed him.
December nodded. “Thanks for trying, either way. Maybe your brother can get on it, or something,” she said. She'd suggest Micah, but he was y'know. A doctor, and probably busy doing life saving shit. Brothel owners didn't have nearly as much life saving to do in their average day. “Good to know you didn't smell anything familiar, though.” It helped rule out those they had all helped out.
“You know, what did stand out to me was that it seemed organized. In my experience, when two events like this occur so close together, they’re usually related.” And the fact that one was a werewolf attack and the other vampires was even more worrisome if that was the case. “Did you see any similarities between the bodies other than them all being dead?”
“Nothing beyond they seem to be done by the same person in both cases. The vamp who hit the one house was the only vamp, the wounds on the werewolf victims were all the same werewolf. But I was thinking the same thing. That this seemed like too dumb a coincidence to be unrelated.” December admitted, not sounding happy about it.
Mannix sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Growing up in a life of organized crime, he’d seen a lot, but rarely were people killed for no reason at all. “If they’re related, then we’re looking at at least one rogue werewolf and one rogue vampires working together. And so far I see no reasoning behind it other than to cause fear and chaos. I’d say the chances are pretty high that we’ll see this again sometime soon, don’t you think?”
“Already ahead of you there,” December said, setting down her scalpel and turning to Mannix again. “This just looks bad on all fronts. I don't like it. And yeah, something this vicious and organized, looks to me like it's not random, even if we don't know what the goal is or whatever.”
“So what’s the plan?” he asked, leaning back against the counter. “Try to hunt ‘em down? Hope to catch ‘em in the act?” They’d either need that or some kind of way to track them. The randomness eliminated motive, which pretty much made everyone in the dome a suspect. “I’m all for a good fight, but I don’t like some of the people in this dome being in danger.”
“Hope we hunt them down, and in the meantime, patrols to attempt to keep people safe. Let's not hope for catching anyone in the act of murdering whole families, shall we?” December asked. She sighed and went to wash her hands, giving herself a break while he was there. “I don't like any of this. I've dealt with violent crime victims on my table before, but this is a new kind of violent crime. And I hate the idea that we're all locked up in here with psychos like that.”
“You know what I meant,” he said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t want to catch anyone in the act of killing, but he knew it was hard to pinpoint who it was if they weren’t doing anything wrong. Rarely did psychopaths turn themselves in. “Most of what I’ve been exposed to had a purpose, even if it wasn’t one everyone would agree with. This just seems… pointless.” Occasionally he looked at killing as a sport, but when he did, he was always killing people that deserved it. These people didn’t.
“I know, I'm sorry,” December said. “Just...dead families isn't really sitting well with me right now.” She really wasn't happy. “And yeah, I...don't even know. I just hate it, and Serge was saying patrols needed to happen and I agree. It needs to get done.” She just wished she sort of knew more people who she thought would be good for it.
“I know. There’s a special place in hell for people who kill children,” Mannix said with a frown. He didn’t condone any of it, but whole families? It wasn’t the kind of job he would’ve touched. Ever. “I’m up for patrolling. I’m sure Jack is, plus any werewolves under his command. You know Mickey will volunteer, and I think Zania’s capable, even if I haven’t seen her fight. But I’m also wondering at what point we need the general public to know what they’re up against. It’s hard to tell them not to invite people in if they don’t know why.”
“Yeah, I know. But that isn't my call. That's more Serge's territory.” December knew Mannix was right, though. When did this shit just need to become common knowledge? Would that make everything worse? Better? She had no idea, but with this going on it was hard to think ignorance was the way to go.
Mannix could feel his lips tug down as he thought of the cop, a man that felt dangerous even if he was only human. He knew more than Mannix was comfortable with and he wasn’t entirely sure he trusted him. “What’s his take on all the supernatural shit? You think he can present it without causing mass panic?”
“I don't know if anyone could present it without causing mass panic. But I know he'd want to avoid that too.” December could safely say that. “As for his take, I'd say I think it's similar to mine – it's fucking dangerous, but if people keep in line, it's fine.”
Mannix smiled, amused that he found himself lumped in with those ‘keeping in line’. There was a first time for everything, it seemed. “If I can keep in line, anyone can,” he pointed out. “Which means we’re likely dealing with true psychopaths. Cabin fever must have set in.”
“I wouldn't doubt that,” December sighed. “And yay. Psychos. Awesome.” This day was just going to get worse. And, if she was right? It was going to keep getting worse for a while before it got better. Shit.
“So, how long are you stuck here?” he asked. “Any chance I can drag you out for a hunt tonight?” Or even now? Maybe there were crazies that couldn’t wait till dark officially fell. If not, he had nothing better to do than hang around and keep her company, if she wanted it. “You know, we should just start planning for shit to hit the fan every time you’ve got free time. They seem to coincide.”
“I don't know. I have a lot to go through, but I'm hoping I can get out of here for a hunt. Or patrol, or whatever. Shit seems pretty fucked up right now,” she said. When he mentioned the last bit, she smirked. “No shit, right?” she said. “It's getting silly. Like there's a curse on my having a social life at all.”
“We’ll squeeze it into the chaos,” Mannix said with a little smirk. “Though when I promised target practice, I thought it’d be on something inanimate with a little less risk in missing. And beer. Can’t drink when the fight is real.” Which was a shame, really. He’d have a lot more fun if he could have a drink, but he wouldn’t risk it impairing his ability to fight.
December nodded. “Yeah, yeah. One day, we'll actually manage to follow through with plans. Til then...bodies and monsters.” Such was her life these days. She was still catching up with just how much things had changed in so short a time.
Bodies and monsters. That was pretty much how it went with December. He couldn’t recall seeing her outside the morgue unless monsters were involved, not since the night he got bitten. Maybe there had been another time, but… most of their time was here. “You should start a club.”
She laughed. “I should,” she agreed. “Hey, if you join it, I'd totally see you more often,” she teased. “Could be worth it...” She looked back at the body on the table. “So, you're going to stick around and keep me company while I do autopsies?”
“You mean I’ve been missing out on the meetings?” he laughed. “What kind of perks do members get, other than fighting monsters?” Mannix followed her gaze to the body on the table. The first time he’d been down here, he’d thought it weird, seeing a body in such a clinical setting. Now he was beginning to get used to it. “If you don’t mind the company, sure. I figured I’ve gotta be a better conversationalist than they are.”
“You get my sparkling with and personality,” December said drily, clearly amused. “And you really, really are. I miss just talking to you,” she admitted. She'd liked Mannix in the first place because of the talks they'd had. Seeing him now she really realized that she missed the guy as much as she did.
“Totally worth the price of admission,” he grinned. While he hadn’t been fished for it, he was glad to hear she’d missed him. He’d begun to wonder in the past week, wanting to see her, but also wanting to give her some space. Friendship wasn’t something he was well practiced in and he wasn’t sure how often he could just show up at her place without becoming an annoyance. “Missed you, too,” he said, hopping up to sit on one of the few empty tables. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out his flask and took a sip. “So what have you been up to, other than playing with the dead?”
December's mind drifted to Serge, but she didn't bring him up. That...was something else. And wasn't something she wanted to share in general. It wasn't a 'relationship', even. She wasn't even positive what she'd term it as. “Not much else, really. I've been busy, and that's kinda it. Please tell me your life has been more exciting.”
“I’m not sure exciting is the term I’d use,” he said, taking a swig off the flask and offering it to her. “Had a family breakfast with Jack and Lily that was rather awkward. I think she was more interested in telling us how in love she is rather than really catch up. And then attempted to give advice to Kenzie about how to handle her cousin and Zan. Otherwise, just hanging out, running a brothel. The usual.”
“Ah, one of those? Self absorbed, or just overly enthusiastic about lurve?” December asked. Though she didn't sound like she begrudged anyone happiness. Hell if someone could find it in the Dome how it was currently – full of monsters and bullshit – she was for it. “Why do people need help dealing with cousins and Zan?” she asked, confused on the context.
“A little of both? I think my annoyance is based on the fact that she’d only known the guy a day or so. Plus, Lily hasn’t had the best track record in picking guys. I’m hoping this one’s better than the last.” It was hard for him to tell at this point, seeing as how she’d talked positively about the others… right up until they started hitting her. If he saw one bruise on her body he was hunting that werewolf down. “I knew Kenzie and Lance outside the dome. Traders. Kenz works for me now and Lance ‘s taken up with Zan. I don’t think she’s used to sharing his attention.” He was cutting out a lot of the details, making it more simplistic than he knew it was, but he didn’t see the need to get into it. “You know something’s wrong when I’m dishing out relationship advice.”
December laughed a little. “A day or so? Holy shit, that's fast,” she said. She'd seen it before, though. People coming in for matching ink tattoos, telling her how it was love at first sight and they were getting the tattoos after only knowing each other a week. She listened to the rest of what he had to say, thinking she got it. “Nice to know Zan's with someone. Hopefully he's a good guy,” she said. “And hey, maybe that's your secret calling in life. Dear Mannix...”
“God, I hope not,” he chuckled. “Can you imagine me handing out advice based on my own life experiences, no formal training? I’d be fucking things up left and right.” His way of dealing with things wasn’t exactly normal, but it worked for the life he led.
“That's why you need the disclaimer, like the horoscope – 'for entertainment purposes only'.” December said. “But fine, okay, you shouldn't ditch it all and become an advice guru. Instead stick with hunting and keeping me company.”
“That sounds like a much better plan,” he smiled, downing another shot. This was a much more enjoyable way to spend the afternoon than moping about the house, waiting for the sun to go down. And even if he didn’t want anyone else to get hurt, he was just itching for a fight. There was a hunt to come and he was ready.