(Williams' Pov)
The bustling life of Winchester continues as on any other day. If the mysterious gloom of all that mass murder scene haunts anyone, it's me. The first-hand witness of the murder.
My wife's seated right beside me in the public peddler. A dozen more citizens are in the seats before and behind me. Some weasel and a stork are even clinging onto the rails overhead.
My wife, Andrea, is muttering something to me. But all that noise fades into background noise. It's like the underscoring instrumentals in the background. She's blabbering away important things – but why do I feel this way?
My mind in a daze, I keep my gaze on the street outside as I lay my head against the window pane. A soft drizzle grazes my face, the moisture enlightening my mood. The peddler passes Felter Street, Mordwick's library, and the old brass instrument shop of Gragras, who was our gracious supplier.
Life continues…
The weavers, the four-mechanical-legged small vehicles, the peddlers, the ten-legged metal buses remind me of the insects which I've witnessed so rarely throughout my life. Eerily similar. Fascinating life, really. It's wholly unimportant and even illogical to think at this moment, but Mrs. Crowdy's history lesson in school flows into my memory all of a sudden.
"Life's so prejudiced, really. Otherwise, evolution would not have chosen only a few animals to evolve into Animagi, and all of those ancestors of ours – all those poor insects, would not have been fated with their tiny brains and their tiny statures."
The peddlers looking like centipedes, weavers looking like spiders on four legs, and even the hoverflies, the flying mechanical systems of those Luminaré knights, looking like a dragonfly, have never struck me as purely odd.
"Tod. Tod, honey – don't be so glum." Andria's voice echoes through the blurry daze before me as reality slowly sweeps back into my mind.
"Tod, are you ok, love?" She shakes me.
I suddenly break from the dazed state and come back to the seat within the peddler, back to that miserable life without a job, without my orchestra. My men.
"Yes – yes," I reply to her, gaining my sense back. "Yes, love?"
I look into Andrea's big pink eyes. They look teary, worried. Her strikingly red lipstick looks charming on her moist lips.
Her purple bonnet slips down her forehead, and I fix it. She's my to-be-wife in barely a week. I should not keep her worried.
"You look so depressed, love. Dr. Bennet said to speak with you whenever you look down, since you are experiencing profound trauma," my wife says as she slides her fingers on top of mine. "Just speak to me. What's going on in your mind, love?"
"Nothing, dear. Just a bit tired." I do feel weak, emotionally and physically, but it's a lie.
"No, no. You've told Dr. Bennet that your faded memories from the murder came to you once in a while – when you're in a dazed state. Is that happening right now? Tell me, Todd." She urges, tightening her grip around my hand.
Ever since that day, my anxiety has never gone away. Even when I lie awake at night, I hear echoes of their screams and, most of all, that horrid, beastly image of the demonic being that resembled those haunting paintings at museums of the Eldritch War.
"It's just, I miss my job. I miss my orchestra, Andrea." I confess, laying my other hand gently over hers. She does the same and looks into my eyes. I see my own reflection in hers – almost like a smaller version of me. Like a baby me. It reminds me that Andrea's pregnant right now.
"Yes, love, I know your pain," she caresses my cheek. The weasel holding onto the rail next to us groans awkwardly. "But you must understand," she continues. "The many shows you've already done have made you a successful frog, and we both know it's enough for you to raise our kids and live comfortably in this landscape."
"It's not the kids," I mutter, a sudden urge of anger that has never been there stirring within me. Andrea's eyes turn spiteful as my voice turns hollow. "It's the dream that I've accumulated all my life. I was right there, my entire orchestra, and our lives could've ascended to a rich lifestyle filled with true artistic values in a tall tower in Luminaré, where society has time to appreciate art rather than just work all day. And you're bringing children into this failed dream –"
I feel a sharp pain in my cheek as Andrea swings her hand lightning fast, like she's some Eldritch being. "You dare lower the value of your children for your selfish dreams, Mr. Williams," she snaps at me.
I gulp, my shoulders sinking into the seat as my eyes wander awkwardly. I see the weasel in a top hat, shaking his head in disappointment at me. I feel miserable – what have I done? A calm frog such as me lost myself and have gotten myself slapped in public by Andrea. She barely ever slaps me in public.
The humiliation…
"I'm s– sorry," I stutter, nervously gripping her moist hands once again. Her throat croaks, announcing her anger towards me. I feel her piercing emotion in my skin. She's looking straight ahead, ignoring my shamed face. The weasel steps away from Andrea, too afraid to anger the lady just by being in her presence.
I realize I'm to be married next week, and I'm to be a father in barely two months. My tadpoles are already swimming in that belly. I shouldn't have devalued their precious lives. I could've known it would cause my wife's wrath.
No matter the deaths, the tragedies of life, and whatever Eldritch horror that temporarily surmounts me – according to my wife's words, family is above all. When it comes to family, nothing's more important. I failed to remember that, and for that, I am ashamed.
///
(Renoir's Pov)
Winchester, in front of the Williams apartment.
"I don't think this is legal, fox."
I carefully insert my key into the hole, one eye squinted to make sure it hits the sweet spot. And this she-wolf is here questioning the legality of it.
"Remember Butch's words," I explain, leaning towards the massive door and twisting the key even harder. "Find some information by any means necessary."
Vanessa sighs and shakes her head. I notice from her silhouette drawn across the decorated wall.
She pulls out something from her jacket and unfolds it.
"We have a bloody search permit right here, Renoir. These thieving habits you're displaying here are completely unnecessary. Even with the search permit, we have to inform the owners before we search their shelters. That's the law," she mutters with disgust. "Honestly, I haven't a clue why Butch would hire you out of all the Animagi in our capital for this case."
Clink. The lock breaks, and the massive oak door gradually creaks open.
Grinning, I turn back to the tall wolf lady. "See, Butch knew there were some things I would do better than his informed and lawful officers, sweetheart. Can you stop giving me that spicy attitude?"
Vanessa crosses her arms and growls. "I'm not giving you a spicy attitude, I'm just saying. And don't call me sweetheart."
Chuckling, I push the door open. "That's exactly what a spicy wolf would say."
The moment I open the door, I'm greeted by various fragrances of expensive Alkhalian sandalwood. Only the middle class can afford this as a daily necessity to decorate their interiors. The place is filled with furniture and shelves, which are lined with important-looking books. Not a speck of dust in sight.
On one end of the room is an organ, seated atop a small stadium lit up by the evening sun seeping in through the skylight. It's too expensive, even for a middle-class family in Winchester. I guess that's what you'd expect from a man who works on classical music. An expensive and classy lifestyle.
"Expensive place, even for a family in Winchester," I say, walking around the apartment, inspecting the rows of books.
Vanessa looks around the apartment too, with widened eyes. "I'd agree with you on that, Renoir."
Sniffing, I walk around the place to see if I catch something odd in the air. I don't believe I ever distinguished the smell of the Eldritch before. I'm one of them – and I'm pretty sure no Animagi who has slept with me has ever told me I smelled odd.
Vanessa rolls the search permit and shoves it back inside her coat. "Might as well search for something they might be hiding before the Williams come back home, then, Fox. But when they do, I'm blaming it on you."
I chuckle. "You're welcome to do so, Wolfie."
She's finally understanding the importance of us breaking in. There are a lot of mysteries you could solve if the affected parties are not involved.
Sniff sniff. Vanessa sniffs the air in the room, searching for the scents in the air. My nose can only catch the musky smell of frogs and the weird mossy smell emerging from their bed chambers. I've slept with frogs before, I know what that is.
"I can barely smell any scent of blood or death. I only smell frogs here," Vanessa says, sniffing and stepping towards the bed chamber.
"I don't catch anything either. Which means we'll have to resort to searching for any strikingly odd objects," I say, turning to Vanessa. She turns back to me and nods.
"I'll take the bed chamber," Vanessa says, opening the door. "You take the living room."
Tch. I would've liked to take the bed chambers – you always find a few dozen kinks from searching a bedroom. You'll never know who you sleep with, so always be prepared.
I turn around and walk towards the shelves lined with the important-looking books. There are little figurines of fat naked bunnies and pigs with angelic wings, with musical instruments in their hands. Each made with pure gold – I can say from that shine alone.
"AND NO STEALING!" Her voice boomed across the apartment.
Groaning, I shift my eyes away from the gold figures. "Fine," I mutter in a whisper.
Then, we start our investigation.
...1 and a half hours later.
"Ughhh… fuck."
Groaning, I fall into the comfortable cushions of the massive red couch in Williams' living room.
One and a half hours later, we still haven't discovered any worthwhile shit. The massive she-wolf falls onto the couch right beside me, growling in disappointment.
"I've gone through most of those shitty books, smelled every corner in this house – and no traces of anything that points to Williams being a killer, or a fucking Eldritch or whatever," Vanessa groans, her massive body sinking into the couch next to me. I feel my body slightly tilting in her direction as the cushions become uneven.
"No traces of magic except for some expensive-looking music pieces in the gallery, too," I rub my eyes, sighing in exhaustion.
Vanessa turns to me. "I've gone through every image in the family book. Plenty of noticeable musicians in there, but no one who points to a crime whatsoever. This frog is clean through and through. No drugs, no nothing is used."
"Which family book? I've seen his parents, and I noticed no trace of the Eldritch users there," I add.
"The one with all the cousins at a party, I guess. This one," she picks the massive photo book lying on the oak table before us and hands it to me. I grasp it and flip open the book.
"Oh – this I didn't read."
"No use, foxy. It barely has any noticeably evil faces. I've been a detective in this job for a few years, and I know a lot of the crimes and the criminals in our reported files."
I chuckle. "Emphasis on the reported, sweetheart."
She gets pissed and looks at me suspiciously. "Dirty Fox. And – did you say that you didn't notice any of the Eldritch users? So that means you know that the Eldritch is real, and you have seen this urban myth with your own eyes. How do you even know it?" The questions come battering, but as Butch said to me, I keep my personals – personal.
I flip through pages of the family book, smiling lightly. "My job here is to complete the investigation, not reveal my sources, detective."
"Ugh," Vanessa groans again, lying her head back on the couch. I slip an inch closer to her – but our shoulders still have a few inches between them. We're not that close yet. "This case is so fucked up and confusing. A fox suddenly tells me that the Eldritch really exists. And I can't believe above all else that Butch is working with a sly bastard like you."
"Well, you'd be surprised at how many things you can't believe in this world then."
"Pftt," the wolf dismisses it proudly.
My eyes search the faces in the great family photos of Williams. In the photos, there are a lot of frog faces in a lot of fancy dresses. All the frogs look a bit similar, but one, one in an amazingly revealing cutout dress right around the thigh, stands out. "What the fuck," I mutter to myself.
"What?"
I look closely at the family picture, lined with many of the Williams family. Mr. Todd Williams is in the middle with 10 frogs to each of his sides. But in the very corner – the very sexy looking frog, she's very familiar to me.
"Have I slept with this frog?" I ask, flipping through the pages quickly to find another picture. Gladly enough, there's a much closer picture with the frog and Todd Williams himself, standing next to her. An inch away from her due to her fascinating trait.
Vanessa stares at me, mouth half open, confused.
"You fucked our witness's cousin?"
I tap on the female Frog's signature dots above her eye. "Three yellow dots right above the brow and that striking lipstick with that amazingly majestic body for a female," I explain as Vanessa's eyes turn to clear visible disgust. "That right there is a poisonous frog, Roma, a friend of mine who happens to be one of the most skilled assassins in Birkwood. And to put it professionally, I've had four intimate encounters with her."
I grin at the wolf.
"So you fucked her four times."
"More or less."
"How does that lead to any importance in this case? Please explain, please."
"Well, this means there's a close Frog to Mr. Williams who can be a source of information for me. I go to her, and she might just open up and give me a little detail on her cousin."
"How exactly do you plan on beating that information out of her?"
"A simple conversation. You'd be surprised at what intimacy can help to reveal, Wolfie," I tell her, and for a moment, she falls into a daze as if she's struck by some deja vu. She suddenly shakes her head.
"Fine, fine," she replies, standing up from the couch. "We can go do whatever you do. Butch entrusted you to be my partner. I can't underestimate my General's judgement."
Click.
Out of nowhere, the lock of the door clicks open. There's someone outside, entering the house. I shoot up back on my legs and throw the family book into the wooden table and turn around, my tail hairs standing up, just like Vanessa's. Both of us turn to the door, and we freeze.
"Oh dear Elders!" Mrs. Williams goes first, jumping back out right as she comes in the door.
"What – what?? Andrea, what's wrong?" Todd stumbles in right after and gasps in shock just like his wife. "Oh, Elder Lords! Who the hell –"
"Wait! We're officers dispatched on your case with a search permit. Do not panic!" I yell right back at them, snatching the search permit from right underneath Vanessa's overcoat. She gasps too, feeling the quickness of my paws.
"See," I let the search permit scroll out and unfold.
Mr. Williams turns back to his wife at the door. "Dear, " he calls out reassuringly. "It's fine, come in. They are the police with a search permit for the investigation."
"Oh, oh, thank the Elders," the wife stumbles in right after Todd, her chest heaving. She was afraid. I can hear her heartbeat from here. "I thought we were getting robbed. I'm sorry, officer."
I turn to Vanessa, who's still staring in confusion at the scene. I throw the search permit back to her, and she snatches it. I wink at her. She raises her brows, as if to say I told you so.
I turn back to the Williams couple.
"Nothing to worry about here, just the necessary parts to solve that mystery massacre, Todd," I reassure them, walking towards the couple to invite them into their own house.
As if nothing strange had happened, we continue the evening. Vanessa and I argue over the fact that we almost got caught during the stay at Williams' place. However, I simply counterargue with how we did not. The Williams are a nice family. They serve us tea after we've rummaged through all of their belongings, even Mrs. Williams' drawer filled with undergarments.
That information would die with me, though.
We have a short discussion of what truly happened at the orchestra with Williams. I look at his strangely alluring eyes while we drink tea. Kind, humble but faint-hearted eyes.
Nothing much is revealed other than what Butch has already shown us. Except for the memories which he claims are slowly coming back to him, where a blank had existed before. Yet, nothing to add than what we already know.
Dark tendrils, eyes enshrouded in a mystical dark haze. A horrible nightmare and a bunch of Animagi corpses at its end.
But there's one person left to investigate tonight. The one person who might know whether their blood has Eldritch energy – Roma, the frog with the craziest tits I've ever seen. And she also happens to be an assassin who is renowned as the Veneno.