The Search

"William!"

A man with brown hair turned around and saw John walking towards him.

"Oh, hey. By the way, Milo and Charlie said they couldn't make it. They're investigating that murderer." William, the man with brown hair, said.

"Well, I'm here because of that murderer." John replied, nudging William with his elbow.

"Why didn't you say that then?!" William rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on even though he was just meeting up with John.

"I dunno."

"I don't understand you sometimes…"

John shrugged and wrapped his arm around William's shoulder, "Come on, let's get some burgers, I didn't eat anything at that party."

After sitting down with their food, John finally spilled the beans to William.

"Alright, guess what happened at the party!"

"Just shut the fuck up and tell me." William said with a deflated expression.

"The mayor, dead as a goddamn doornail." John raised his hand and mimicked being hung, "Except he was hung by his feet."

"He got to the mayor… at the party? How the fuck did he do that?!"

"Fuck if I know! I didn't even see his ass!" John slapped his thigh and laughed while William just shook his head in disbelief.

"You didn't help him, right?"

"Nope. We were waiting for the mayor, got tired and asked someone to drag him to us. Then they found him in his library. Hung from the second floor."

"How the fuck did they manage that?!"

"Again, no clue! He's fucking crazy good at it though!"

William drummed the table with his fingers slightly while thinking.

John had an excited look on his face and asked, "You guys find anything out about him?"

William chuckled slightly, "Just that he's a goddamn ghost. We found his trail, went cold. Found it again, went cold. Every time we find it, it goes cold without fail. But before it does, somebody dies. And sometimes, we don't even find a trail, we just hear about another body on the news."

"Damn. You guys at least know what he looks like I assume."

"Nope. Not at fuckin' all. All we know is they're average height, maybe slightly taller than that, and that they're white. They're always covered by a black jacket and cloth mask. We've only seen the area around their eyes, hence us only knowing they're white and average size."

"Where'd you guys last find him."

"Earlier today actually, at an electronics store. We watched the security footage and all he did was come inside, and watch the tv, and leave once his news segment was over. After that, we didn't find shit." William paused for a moment but continued, "What about the angels? Are they looking into it?"

"From what they're saying nope. They're still probably looking into it, but I don't think they'll do anything." John replied with a face full of thought.

"I see. Well, do you even know why this guy's killing these people?"

"Nope, if I had to guess, someone wants to kick off the war."

"That's what I'm thinking too, which is why I think it might be an angel. Considering its not us of course. Although the Abyss doesn't tell us shit, I don't think it's us. Angels probably aren't doing anything because they're the ones trying to start shit."

"The problem with that is the hearts. Hearts contain the soul so it's probably a demon junkie. Or the angels are trying to frame it as murders from a demon junkie. But the problem is we don't fuck with souls and the angels know this. So, I don't see why they'd frame it that way. It's too soon to determine, I think. Anyway, let's eat."

The taste of stale bread entered the mouth of a kid no older than seventeen. It didn't bother him, and he kept eating. He was currently walking down a dark street ignoring the heavy rain that had returned as it pounded on his shoulders.

He was walking around with a tired face. His skin was pale, and they had slightly tangled pitch-black hair. On the left side of his face on his jaw he had a deep scar.

He finished his bread and turned into a dark, foggy alley.

Soon after, a man walked past the alley and only saw a dead end. He walked further into the alley and looked around, the only thing he spotted was a manhole cover. He walked over to it and lifted it open.

After opening it he dropped down and saw a large sewer system and no person in sight. With a sigh he climbed back up the ladder. He left the alley and pulled out his phone.

"They call it a Royale with Cheese, it's because they don-" John abruptly stopped talking when his pocket buzzed, "Oh, speaking of Milo."

"We haven't spoken about Milo in like, thirty minutes."

John ignored William and answered the phone, "Yo… Milo, what's up? You missed out on burgers."

"…"

"Oh. You're shitting me, right?"

"…"

"Get your ass down here, I'll ping you, we'll meet up with Charlotte." John hung up the call and sent Milo and Charlotte his location.

"What's happening?" William asked.

"Our murderer is what's happening. Milo thinks he has a lead."

"So why aren't we going there?"

"He lost the lead, that's why."

William's face turned grim.

After a while, Charlie arrived, followed by Milo. They sat down in the same booth as the other two.

The diner they were in was extremely retro. There were small square mirrors along the wall that warped the reflections. The floor was checkered white and black and the booths they were sitting in were bright red. The diner as had an esthetic for old cars, old posters hung on the walls and there was even an old car parked in the diner.

Milo spoke up first, although it was a mumble, "Alright so… How do I say this in a way that you guys will believe?"

The other three just stared at him.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure our murderer is just a teen. A seventeen-year-old, or something around that age."

The other three continued to stare at him.

"…"

"…"

At this point it was around one in the morning and they were the only ones in the diner besides the cook and the waiter. Thus, the silence was palpable when everyone heard what Milo said.

The silence was eventually broken by John as he pulled out a cigarette and put it in his mouth.

"Excuse me?" John mumbled, the cigarette slightly blocking his voice, as he pulled out his lighter.

"I'm serious. He fits the height, and the only portion of the face we can see. He's pale as fuck and has dark eyes, just what we heard from the electronics employee. He's also a rat, we haven't been able to follow him because he's been using the sewer to get around."

"…" John was thinking to himself silently as he lit and puffed the cigarette.

"Alright give us the description." Charlie said.

"Pitch black hair, above average height but tall for his age and pale as fuck."

After hearing the description, Charlie and William looked over at John.

"You got a secret son or something?"

"What?" John asked confused.

"Never mind."

John shook his head throwing whatever stupid bullshit they were saying out of his mind and asked while flicking some ash off of his cigarette, "So what now?"

"No clue. Guess we keep looking, for now, we should probably head back to the hotel."

"You best put that cigarette out." The waiter said walking over to give them their check, "The owner hates smoke. Didn't you see the signs?"

John ignored him and paid the waiter. The waiter rolled their eyes and went to the cash register. John took a long drag on his cigarette and the other three just stared at him.

The next morning the four woke up to some news.

"Last night, three more bodies were found, all in the same position as the last. The mayor, Frank O' Connor, as well as Selina and Thomas Myers. Mayor O' Connor was found last night at the party to celebrate the 13th apostle graduating as well as discuss the recent killings. The Myers family also attended the party and are suspected to have been followed home by the killer. They were found killed and hung from their second-floor balcony."

The news continued speaking about trivial things like what people were calling the killer and speculation as to why they were committing the acts. The group of four ignored it and all collectively were baffled.

"A bit much for a seventeen-year-old." Charlie said.

"Maybe they have help."

"Yeah, I bet it's an army of prepubescent teens." She retorted with a slight chuckle.

The party of four was dispirited as they didn't know where to go next.

"We could search the sewers."

"That would take forever and I for one, do not need to have that stench permanently latch onto me. Milo already smells like shit and I, for one, don't need more of that." Charlie spoke scratching her temple.

"Then what do we do? It's taken us forever to get to this point, we're not detectives, in fact I think John has a couple of screws missing."

That was the last thing Milo said that morning before he was knocked out by a thrown book.

"I'll go into the sewers, the rest of you just search around for anyone matching the description, look in areas with low traffic. And take Milo with you, tell him to ping me where he lost the kid." John said motioning towards Milo's unconscious body.

With that they split up and started searching for the teen. After a while John received the location on his phone and he went there. Reaching the manhole, he put out the cigarette he had in his mouth and hopped into the damp sewers.

John looked around the ladder and found that it split off to the right and left. The sewers had pipes all over and everything was slightly wet. The walls were covered in yellow lights covered by thick safety cages.

John sighed before cracking his neck.

After he did that, black mist started forming around his body before it clung to his skin and clothes. It started solidifying and forming black scales, his hands became claws, and his body was entirely hidden after a few moments.

"Hopefully nothing explodes… Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…" After mumbling to himself, John disappeared completely only leaving faint static in his trail.

John decided to first head right down the sewer, in an instant, he travelled throughout the place, searching all over. John found a couple of homeless people dabbling with drugs but that was it. He decided to head the other way instead.

After travelling for a while, he noticed something, along the walls slick with a wet substance were faint chalk marks. With an apparent clue, he decided to follow them. It wasn't long until he reached a manhole and the chalk seemed to indicate he should go through.

John steeled himself and climbed up the ladder. He popped open the manhole and stuck his head through, all he revealed was a cloudy dark sky and a dilapidated warehouse. He climbed all the way out and stood up on the pothole filled street.

As John stood up from the manhole, the scales faded away and his normal body was revealed again.

He looked around some more and concluded he was in the outskirts of the city. He decided to investigate the surrounding buildings, starting with the warehouse.

It was a massive warehouse, but the outside was heavily overgrown. Most of the windows had been smashed in whether intentionally or not, and graffiti was all over the sides of the building. Looking around, John found a door with surprisingly little vegetation growing around it.

He opened the door slowly and crept in. He heard quite a bit of noise coming from further in the building and his interest was piqued. His feet carefully walked around the glass on the floor, and he walked into the main storage area.

"Hooolyy shiiit…" John came to a stop and just stared in awe. The warehouse was filled with makeshift homes. There were stalls everywhere, small wooden shacks and tents too.

There were many people all over, but any that saw John stopped in their tracks. They all shrunk back, stopped whatever they were doing, and ran back to their homes while avoiding him as much as possible.

Bink!

John felt a slight pain in his shoulder and heard glass shattering. He looked at his shoulder and it seemed fine but all over the floor was a broken bottle.

"Oi, rich boy. Fuck off!"

John looked to his left and saw a teen standing on a mezzanine floor. There were a couple of other rough looking teens as well. John ignored them and kept walking into the pseudo town.

"Excuse me I'm loo- oookay then." Every time John tried to talk to someone they'd quickly scurry away. He also noticed the teens following him in the distance.

John could really only scratch his head. Even if the murderer or that teen was here, he doubted he could find them. Between the scale of what he'd have to search through and the people of the town all running away from him, there wasn't much he could do.

"You should've listened to the kids."

John heard a voice behind him. As he turned, he saw a bald, extremely fit man whose muscles bulged with even the slightest of movements. It was quite grotesque and John almost gagged.

"I'm looking for someone, a teen, tall for his age, very pale, and has black hair."

"Don't know 'em. Even if I did, you wouldn't hear a peep from me, I don't talk to the feds."

John squinted his eyes a bit and mumbled with a slight nod, "Uh-huh. Okay." He noticed one of the kids in the group scurry away, running into a nearby alley.

"Just get the fuck out, or I'll throw you out."

John took out a cigarette and lit it. After putting it in his mouth and taking a huff, he spoke quietly, "Nah, I got shit to do." He turned and kept walking, not forgetting to flip him off as he walked away.

Even with the clear provocation, the muscle head charged towards John. John sidestepped him as he reached him, and John put his cigarette out on the back of his neck.

With a little, "Oops." John dropped it into his shirt as well, which happened to be tucked in, letting the scorching cigarette to rest against his back.

The muscled man quickly pulled up his shirt with a loud yelp and the cigarette fell out. He proceeded to glare at John. If looks could kill, John might've been six feet under. He jumped at John but fell over clutching his throat.

John simply punched the muscle guy's throat when he pounced at him. As he laid on the floor, John kicked him in the face, breaking the man's nose. John kicked him once more, knocking the man out. John set him up against a nearby building so his nose would bleed normally.

John slightly stretched and looked over and saw the teens as they grew paler by the second.

"So, does anyone ring a bell?"

They looked ashamed and stared at the floor, but one of them nodded and pointed towards a corner of the warehouse. John dusted his suit off and started walking in that direction while lighting another cigarette.

Eventually John reached a locker room, refurbished as a small home. He opened the door, which seemed even more dilapidated than the shacks poorly built in the collapsing building. He entered the room and his eyebrows slightly raised.

Scattered all over the floor were piles upon piles of books. Most of the books were fiction, but a surprising amount were nonfiction for animals and beasts, birds in particular. There were also dozens of beautiful paintings as well. A lot of them were portraits or just stunning scenery.

"What the fuck…" John couldn't help but mumble while scratching his chin.

He walked further into the locker room and found a dirty mattress on a wooden pallet, covered with two thin blankets. He lifted the mattress but only found more books and illustrations.

John started checking the lockers and rummaged through some clothes. It was mainly shorts, some thin shirts that needed to be replaced, and a pair of torn jeans. John looked through the rest of the lockers but didn't find much, most just had more books. There was a bathroom off to the side and so John went there next.

Entering the room nothing struck John as that weird. He did notice a couple of boxes of hair dye, all of different colors. The most prominent color was a dark black, there were a couple boxes of those.

"Interesting…" John mumbled. With a disappointed sigh, he stood up and left the home. John touched his chin as he thought to himself.

He concluded that the kid who left during the fight probably warned the teen he was looking for. John scratched his head with another sigh and walked around. Eventually he rested on an old concrete slab laying on the ground.

The people of the warehouse eventually started to go back to what they were doing after seeing him only want to find the kid. There were plenty of kids running around playing with each other, parents cleaning up the place, and others just helping out.

Even after all this time, John still didn't know what this place was. He just sat there staring at all the people walking around, going about their day.

"Mind if I ask why you're looking for him?"

John heard a voice speaking to him and he looked over. He saw a woman in her early twenties. John stared at her without saying anything.

Eventually he spoke, "I don't know. He's just a kid…" He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, "You know those murders, he might have something to do with them. Might being the keyword here."

"I see."

She stood there without a word, and John didn't say anything either. Silence swallowed the two who were in their own little worlds. Sometimes sounds would leak in from the other people, but they were too preoccupied with their thoughts to notice.

"Know anything about him?" John suddenly asked.

She laughed for a bit before answering, "Oh heavens no. That kid is the most secluded person here, and that's saying something. Lords, last year there was a thief stealing food. Since he was so secluded, most assumed it was him. They tore down his door and were dumbstruck by all the books and painting in there. When that happened he froze in confusion like a deer in headlights." She laughed some more after saying that, like she was revisiting a fond memory.

John smiled and shook his head. He looked down at the floor and just stared, thinking about this investigation that baffled him.

Eventually, John stood up and stretched his legs and back. He turned to the lady and thanked her before leaving. As he waded through the slightly overgrown entrance, walking around the glass, he turned around for a moment. He stared at the strangely beautiful place he stumbled upon.

He frowned slightly and left.

He pulled out his phone and sent a text, 'im 90% sure i found his house'

':) Good send us the location and we'll look around.' A response quickly came.

John sighed and sent a text back, 'no need i already did. he left already and i doubt he's coming back'

John rubbed his eyes and walked away from the building. Then he decided to take a chance. He thought for a moment and decided to hide and sneak back into the building. After which he hid in a little nook covered by some overgrown plants and watched the door to the teens home.

He waited all the way until the next morning where he heard the door slightly creak open. It was incredibly dark as the clouds signaling rain covered up the rising sun, so John was barely able to see a figure slip into the room.

He slowly crept out from the bushes and slinked his way over to the locker room. He peaked inside and saw a figure wearing a hood with a face mask on. They climbed on top of one of the lockers and lifted one of the ceiling tiles, one of the only spotless tiles not covered in stains or mold. He stuck his hand in and grabbed a little box.

He opened it and when he saw whatever was inside was still there, he let out a relieved sigh. His eyes slightly curved under his hood. He put the tile back and hopped down from the top of the locker.

When he landed, he glanced slightly to his left and saw John staring at him. The teen quickly bolted prompting John to chase after him. The teen ran into the bathroom that John had visited earlier. He slammed the door shut and when John ripped it open, he was met with a sharp pain in his face.

"Oh, fuck me!" He was hit directly in his nose by a thick book that the teen stealthily picked up in the previous room.

John looked up and saw the teen do a little parkour maneuver, kicking off the wall and slipping himself into the window that neared the ceiling.

"Shit, guess this is karma for throwing that book at Milo…" John mumbled to himself as he sloppily climbed through the window.