Catheris shot Mr. Beo a derogatory glare. He let out a slow, measured breath as he let the matter go. He was quite... rude. Perhaps this was why Mr. Beo worked for the Bureau; he was certainly doing a good job of keeping his sanity in check, alright.
Catheris tilted his head to the side. "Anything here...?"
"Nah."
Despite the detective's arbitrary tone, his words were irrefutable. An agent's control of ink was akin to one's awareness of their own body — that's how innate the connection was. With ink being derived from taint, naturally, an ink user could also sense taint intuitively.
Catheris answered first without waiting to be asked.
"An insignia like that should be easy to sense."
"But which goodies do you think I should mention in the report?"
"The tumor-ic and the candied eyeballs say a lot about their absurdity."
"Yeah, yeah, you're right."
Tanghulu eyeballs... ewww.
Really... They were treating cannibalism like some miracle superfood instead of something sacred.
They went back into the hallway. The detective chuckled as he watched Catheris' irritated face. Mr. Beo managed to muster up some small talk.
"So, it's either the office or the processing room. Which one do 'ya want?"
"I'd rather have the gory stuff out of the way first."
"Ok. I bet on the office being the next one, then."
Mr. Beo: ^^
Cough, cough, get a load of this guy.
Mr. Beo cracked the door open. Somewhat devious energy seeped out but nothing overwhelming. It was probably the office. Worst for last? Depending on whose perspective.
The air in the room felt stuffy. There was a bulky desk in the back corner brimming with paperwork.
Catheris swung his flashlight around, feeling nothing of note.
"Should we move on?
"But there's something fishy in the air?"
...ok.
The detective reached inside his coat, pulled out a monocle, and put it up to his left eye. It had a red lens with a switch on the side. Catheris stood there awkwardly with his inexperience, just waiting for the man to do his thing. Mr. Beo suddenly closed the distance between them, the lens about to hit Catheris' eyelashes.
?
"Eh?" Catheris gawked.
"Secret cabinet detector, pretty handy."
The detective pulled away. Mr. Beo gestured with a hand to the desk.
"If we're going to find that insignia, then this is essential."
As Mr. Beo towered over him, he put it over Catheris' eye and flicked the switch like igniting a lighter.
Suddenly, a blue 3D scan of the room appeared. The monocle highlighted a stack of papers orange within what it considered a secret cabinet. Huh, what were the logistics of this thing?
"So?" Mr Beo, also orange, awaited his answer. "Whaddya see?"
Catheris hovered his hand over the secret cabinet.
Mr. Beo laughed dryly, almost scoffing, "This mechanism... well, they tried go lock it, the Bureau's better, I'm better. I think that's probably the only one, right?"
"Mn?"
The detective made quick work with his nimble fingers. He found the secret compartment above a normal cabinet — but it wouldn't budge.
Mr. Beo banged the top.
"This? They tried locking it."
He conjured up a drop of ink, shooting it up. A thin layer of ink coated the secret compartment and corroded it before it came crashing down. The paper on top of the pile drifted away from the air flow.
"Eh?"
Catheris bent down to pick up the loose papers. On top of the pile was a transaction log. Near the top of the list was a familiar Emiliano Almazer.
More and more, and more oddly familiar names appeared, like Adam Kelcer.
"What?"
Mr. Beo noticed Catheris' perplexed look.
"I've seen these names before... I don't think they've ever gotten a suit from us, though... that's odd."
"Is that supposed to mean much?"
"Yes."
'So where have I heard of them before...'
"They look important. We're bringing them back."
Mr. Beo reached into the depths of his long detective coat, pulling out a briefcase from his spatial pocket.
"Maybe you saw him on the news? We can look him up later."
The detective tilted his head sideways.
That uh, had a low plausibility to be the case.
"I don't think that'd be the case either."
"Maybe you'll remember after connecting the name to the face?" The detective assured.
"Maybe." Catheris nodded, changing the subject. "So that means the processing room is next."
"...So, best for last, right?"
Catheris pushed him away and pettily sped off, seeing as the man was in the mood to tease in this sort of... place. Mr. Beo took extra-long strides to keep up (seriously, his legs were long).
As Catheris opened the door, a strange sense of weight filled the entire facility. He peeked back, catching the detective's silhouette not far behind. It seemed like the space Mr. Beo gave him was strategic. Just enough so that Catheris could feel independent.
The sharp smell of ammonia broke through his thickly filtered mask. His eyes stung as he fixed the mask partially over his eyes. Dozens of corpses hung like cattle carcasses, their skin stripped and their muscles exposed. It was like a slaughterhouse — like Mr. Beo said — despite no actual slaughter. He slowly noticed a faint radio static buzzing, slightly distorted and fried.
A young woman's corpse was on an operating table. He observed her features before he even knew it, unable to look away as if it were a bad accident. She had messy curly brown hair. Torn clothes exposed her bare chest, and only a white tarp covered her lower half. She appeared to be intentionally propped up and posed like a muse for an oil painting — an ethereal maiden.
Amongst the strong smell of ammonia, Catheris suddenly realized the – unmistakably – intense stench of cum invading his nostrils. There wasn't the slightest trace of life essence in the room's energy; Wisteroth was three weeks ago.
Catheris blinked, his brain short-circuiting.
'Wasn't that the girl from the news?'
He gripped the side of his head as uncanny dread flooded his senses. His ears rang like in his dreams – a bleak premonition. He had to get out.
Something was severely wrong.
Suddenly, he froze and held his breath as icy air swept across the room. In the corner of the room, something was suddenly breathing hard. The entity in the corner of the room appeared to not be a demon, but not a man either, crouching. Its/his (?) snarling and animalistic breaths gave away its shrouded position. It sat like a mischievous, ugly imp.
Half of the anomaly's face appeared to be an old man, with skin so saggy it looked like its face was melting, and the other half seemed to be... censored. It was blurry, but behind the mirage was a man around Catheris's age. Its face was distorted into a dark swirl, with no soul behind that hollow eyesocket.
Like a ghoul. It looked like a ghoul. Besides its face, its entire body was pitch black. It looked like a fucked up jester with its uncanny proportions and sharp angles in all the wrong places.
The corners of its cracked lips raised to the corner of its dead fish eyes. Rotting canines and decaying gums filled the ugly smile. It panted a thick white fog, whilst drool pooled over its lips.
Catheris walked slowly backwards, expecting to hit into a somewhat plush wall of muscle yet...
Something clicked for the entity. Its eyes glitched to pitch, inky black, rolled in the eye sockets like a slot machine. With every step Catheris took toward the door, it inched closer on all fours.
"Yo?" Mr. Beo called from outside.
Catheris froze for a moment and looked in the voice's direction. Flinching, he stared the entity down again with a fragile, stern look as it got closer.
"S̶̺̑͘͘̕͠Ơ̵̛̦̞̞̬̗̊̄̽.̴̤̒̋̇̀̕.̵͚̇̀̓̾͌.̴̺̖̟̦͍̞͝ ̷͖̝̮̣̲̾f̵̟͆̂̆͊̉̈́u̷̯͓̤͖͊̋̕l̸̹̖͕̰̂̿͝l̴̥̣̆̓ ̵̣̈̽̍ö̸͖̰̲̻͍f̷͉̞̠̞͜͠ ̵̗̰̦͕͑́͑̽̋̽v̶̨̻̣̟̹̍́̔͌i̷̖̹̞̹̻̎̋̇̔͒͋͜t̴̪̖̬̥̗̊̀̍̃̀a̴͎̲̝̦̘̒̈̈̀̏l̷̛̹̹̠̝͎͉̋̿̕i̷͉͕͎̫̠̿̐ẗ̸̳͎̲́͌͛͝y̵̫͕͓̻̪̙̒̅̃͌̈͘.̸͇͈͌̈͜.̸̨̝̭̠̏͐.̸̪͔̈́ ̷̛̯̮͑p̷̹͑͒̏́̄̑e̷̯̜̝̹͎͈̽r̵̭̯͔̠̅͛͒͊͒͝f̴͇̩̆̚̕ḙ̵̼̽͑͌̀͌c̵̼̈́̀͝͝͠t̴̢̖̝̖͂͆̐̆̌͘ ̶̪̬̺̉͋̔̋͝l̴̫͋ą̸̛͎̺̙̏̎̒͗͊m̴̼̺̥̈́́b̷̥̌̋̅͝"
There was... a disgustingly infatuated glaze over its eyes. It ground its rotting teeth together, snapping its molars apart with an audible crack and crumble.
"p̴͉͍̂̚e̵͍̩̤̦̊̒̾r̶̨̿̚f̴̙̽͂̋͂ḛ̴̉c̴̬̱͐̐̑̽ť̴̨̊̒͘ ̵̢͝p̶̫͊̍̔̕ę̷̹̃̀r̸̺͚̘̎̽f̷̫̯̦̣̍é̶̢͉̹̦̈c̸̣͆ͅṱ̷̔̇͋͛ ̶̺͉̌p̵̧̱̝̎̑̈́e̶̛͎̦̲̾̆Ŗ̷̻̀̎f̴̡̣̱͓͐̈́̓e̶͙̐C̶̡͈̭̑̃t̸̩̖͙̅ ̸͈̻̈̔P̷̮̺̯̬̊͑͛ě̷̹͙R̴̭̠̜̳̈́͝f̴͎̎̀ḙ̶͔̲̋͑̇͝ͅC̷͉̭̫̏͜T̷̪̤̩͙̿ ̶̹̌̀̏͌͜Ṕ̵̞̬̭̖͆Ę̷̩͊͘r̵͚̒̀F̴̮̣͑͒̈́͘È̸̞̣̜C̴̠̉T̶̡̖͇̎̋͝ ̴͙̩̬̇͑̕P̴͚̯̝̖̑̈́͝Ě̴̺̻R̵̝͒̈̂F̷̧͇̺̌̀̉͝ͅE̴̗̯̾̓̃̚C̴͎͖̽͝T̶̬̜̄͗́͝ ̴͖̠̿̋́k̴̖̈́K̵̯͘K̴̻̠͒k̶̫͕̦̱͒̎̋Ḱ̸̤̗̓̚Ķ̷̙̪̪̈̀̓"
!
Just as Catheris' head peeked into the hallway, the entity suddenly lunged forward. It grabbed his wrists tightly and tried to subdue him. As Catheris struggled, he managed a resounding strike across its cheeks. Something cracked in its jaw. When it looked back at him unfazed, that entity's damned dead stare pulled him in.
It was nauseating to be so close. His eyes widened as the utterly foul stench of its humid panting soaked into his mask. The way half its face squirmed to a swirl was so eerie. And looking closely, the movement was jagged, like maggots wriggling through a carcass.
There was a perverted sense to the way it held Catheris' wrists; a perverted sense to its gaze; pervertedness to the way the corners of its fucked up smile turned. Its pitch black eyes had a downright damned eeriness in the way it looked at everything and him at the same time.
The thing dragged him by the top of his hair as he continued struggling. The bells of his bow clanked against the floor as it dragged him further into the forest of hung corpses. Catheris groaned, kicking around as he aimed for the crotch. He shifted his attention to its arms, scratching at the black skin. To his horror, his nails tugged on the soft muscle. As he tried to pull his hand away, he pulled out seemingly endless strings of rotting flesh with no signs of stopping.
Suddenly, the entity halted. Its vertebrae made a snapping noise as it looked back. It hacked its throat before spitting thick yellow mucus onto the white tile. It got up jankily, smashing Catheris's nose into the floor with a deafening sound to keep him down. His body malfunctioned as his ink instinct tried to repair itself, but couldn't because his ink was sealed. Viscous blood pooled, smashed against the cracks of his lips and smeared across his cheek as he made a pathetic little noise. His dilated eyes searched the room for a potential weapon before landing on what captivated the thing's attention.
"m̶̢̛͌͌Y̵̪̮͔̚ ̵̖̃̇͋Ṁ̵͖͛̉͘y̷̑͋͠ͅ ̶̤̻͍̹̆̾M̵̛̮͗ï̸̥̠͐̾͌n̵̫̬̎Ȇ̴̜ ̵̣̦̥̀͜͠M̷̡̺̮̺̓Y̵͓̠̒̐̔̃ ̴̨͇̀͠m̵̞̀̆̆̆y̵̖̹͒́͘͠ ̵̦͚̯̓̃͝M̵̦͕̌̌ͅĮ̶͙̊̚ņ̸̡͙̈̎͗͊È̷̻͔̞͗"
Mr Beo scoffed upon seeing the thing. "Do me a favor and shut up? You're stupid loud," he stuck his pinky in his ear.
Catheris stared at the detective as the entity began to cackle manically. Its fucked up voice scratched against its equally fucked throat, and its face swirled into its eyehole even faster.
The detective sounded like an absolute brat. But the ticked off look tugging at the corner of his lips and the absolute irritation in his amber eyes said otherwise.
The entity babbled incoherent nonsense as it kept bashing Catheris' face with nothing left to break or bleed into the floor, trying to mash flesh, blood, and broken bone into paste. His body trembled as the black ink in his veins went haywire, branching off into their own "veins". Despite the agonizing pain, his eyes were locked onto Mr. Beo's. Catheris' widened and bloodshot eyes glared with loathing. Catherise forced himself not to succumb to the satisfaction of sleep.
The detective put a finger against his own lips, hushing him as he side-eyed Catheris and practically glared at him from above. The detective rapidly reached for something inside his co-
!
at.
Bullseye. In an instant, white noise blared throughout Catheris' ear canal and banged against his eardrums as he felt the ink in his head begin to whirl, moving to protect his hearing as the sound danced back and forth between his head. Ms. Z's seal broke for a moment.
The cocky look of the deranged entity split into chunks of lifeless flesh — half of its face blown off. The blurry mirage disappeared in an instant to reveal a white man around Catheris's age, his eye widened and bloodshot. Bits of his head flung across the room in pieces, some so small they were grainy. Chunks of broken brain were visible through a cracked skull. Flickers of blood sputtered from the socket devoid of an eye. The eye flung away from the impact. When its bouncing came to a halt, it lay on the floor with its nerves twitching erratically. The fleshy root squirmed.
The bullet sent blood across the room in spattered, quick marks with trailing dots. A few of those dots flung onto the side of Catheris's cheek. The scene seared into his retinas. His eyes widened in a disarray of mixed emotions, not knowing what to think — or feel. Contrary to the frantic expression in his eyes, his body was completely stiff.
A feeling rushed through him as equally fast as the adrenaline pumping through his veins that could be summed up as 'no matter the circumstances, someone (?) just died.'
In an instant, the man's (man?) lifeless corpse, who, reminder, was alive a few milliseconds prior — fell limp. Crimson red pooled underneath the head. His limbs fell flat across the tile. It smelled like rich iron—deliciously sweet. The head was a mutilated mess of blood, chunks of flesh, and skull poking out blurred into something indiscernible. A black viscous substance seeped from the hollowed head — ink audibly glugged in the deafening silence.
In mere seconds, the blood rapidly changed into sweet ink before dissipating into thin air. It left a black smoke screen, the same kind of smoke from a fired bullet. Take, for example — like Mr. Beo's handgun.
The flesh reacted to air like a corpse being devoured by mycelium. The air feasted more and more. As the flesh cauterized, it continued eating at the black, dry, dead flesh until it arrived at the normal tissue. The structure was riddled with a myriad of holes. Like coral.
When the slow yet rapid process (1-2 minutes?) finished, the air in the room began ringing in his ears.
A thorough coldness dissipated throughout. The split second broke as Mr. Beo moved first, noticing something the corpse had left behind.
Mr. Beo bent down and tilted his head.
"Looks like the Necromancer Insignia. Let's get outta here."
It was a round, black metal button. The symbol was Cthulhu with half of its skull exposed, and its maw agape.
He grabbed Catheris by the collar like one does with a kitten. As Catheris' blood plopped onto the floor, Mr. Beo wiped the blood away with the collar of his coat. Catheris merely hung his head low as he felt his consciousness growing weak.
"Just go t'sleep, aiyah." Mr. Beo cooed.
Catheris simply blinked his eyes, looking at him. A blank no. Nothing personal, really. It was just hard to sleep like this when it finally hit him how much everything hurt.
"Stubborn, I see."
The detective held Catheris' head up. Catheris weakly gagged at the metallic taste trickling down his throat, remembering the smell of the rotting corpse.
The detective made a small green glowing orb and brought it up to the bashed in face. Slowly, all the broken bits of bone of Catheris' skull restructured itself. The tissue reverted to its normal state—the elasticity of the skin was perfect, leaving his original nose intact.
***
Still a bit disoriented, Catheris couldn't speak much. He gripped at his fixed nose and the side of his head, feeling a headache pool whenever the detective spoke. Catheris tried to keep himself as still as possible so his bells wouldn't jingle.
Mr. Beo broke the silence.
"I'm sorry. It's just that—I wasn't expecting to shoot a man straight in the brains today. That's one hell of a first impression— the Bureau thought it'd be a somewhat lenient first job. It's—really... all not like this. We have specific teams for this sort of stuff anyway; we're only here as a filter to collect evidence."
Oh my saintesses—be quiet...
"Let's not idle by now." Catheris coughed.
Catheris's stomach grumbled. His pupils consumed all but the very corners of his sclera.
...
"...Wanna head to this diner with me? 'Been a regular for a while now: it's a solid breakfast place." Mr. Beo asked.
"Mn." Catheris nodded his head lightly, a bit embarrassed as his cheeks flushed a tinge of pink.
'I should take note of this.'
Catheris Orial more often than not—didn't do breakfast, settling for a cup of coffee. But right now... he was really hungry.
He reflected on the whole conundrum in his head, swallowing back a pool of saliva in his throat; his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he licked the back of his teeth.
The ink... If there was a slight lapse in his composure, things would have ended far more differently.