《Poetic ways to slaughter》 Considered for dead Fortunately, the man was dead. Unfortunately, he wasn''t alive long enough to endure the true torture the poet had planned to place upon him, no matter the case, the bloody scene was enough to get the same people, who scroll endless hours on the dark Web, to squirm. What a mess, the walls covered in pink flesh, icy cold blood congested alongside it in a morbid mural, a reminder of the still, warm mass (hardly identifiable as a body) currently displayed. It was almost procedural, every 2 weeks, another murder, another body mutilated into the desired painting of whom people don''t speak of. Although the strict schedule the criminal placed himself upon made his murders predictable, this nightmare he crafted with his own ruby-stained hands, was the unique turn in uncovering his identity. Police sirens filled the air as a young woman stumbled upon the vile act, vomiting and heaving in the process as her whole body shook, trembling as she called 999. The glacial, dead streets of London suddenly turned alive, blue and red blinding curious neighbours, who''d been peeking out from windows from the safety of their own homes. What a shame, 5 am never did seem to be the ideal time for crime. ~???~ ¡°Detective Artemis Nektarios, a pleasure to be speaking with you today¡± the Chief Inspector started, his voice low and dangerous, looming over Artemis in a threatening way contradicting his hearty personality. ¡°The pleasure is all mine, chief, how may I be of service?¡° He questioned his superior. Artemis was almost as mysterious as the serial killer he was about to be assigned with, his chestnut hair swept back with the appropriate amount of gel to give it volume, one hair askew. He had a rather pale complex adopted from his mother, his family tanning a warm sun-kissed gold, whilst he burnt a bright coral. The outfit he had on was bursting at the seams with professionalism, a burnt umber long coat, plain leather gloves, chocolate trousers, vest and pure white dress shirt. Adorned, of course, with a matching long tie. Rich hazel eyes sparkled yet blocked advances. In short, he spoke and dressed as an old British soul, despite his Greek name. ¡° Well, I''m sure you''ve heard of the mass murders currently causing chaos? I believe the youth have been referring to him as the grim reaper''s poet as well as simply the poet¡± he explained slowly, with purpose. ¡°Yes I have sir, he is a rather confusing case¡± Artemis spoke apathetically, keeping it short. He wasn''t one to be overly empathetic during a case. ¡°That he is, which is why you''ll be working on this case with Detective Zahra and forensic pathologist Juliette. I''ve already emailed the files necessary and informed them of your arrival.¡° Chief wasn''t fond of using full names, which Artemis deemed unprofessional, insisting he must use his if not anyone else''s. Artemis had also furrowed his eyebrows together, sighing inwardly, content with being alone. ¡°I understand, I assure you Chief, you won''t be disappointed,¡± He carefully constructed his words, not missing a single beat. Standing up, he muttered a small thank you, leaving the office with a weak smile adorning his face. Finally, a case, worth living. ~???~ The meeting he had after was short, detailing the murders previously made with less than pg images. He didn''t take much time to dwell, following the simple instructions of meeting up with Zahra and then Juliette. Stepping out of his car, he inhaled the damp smog gradually, striding towards a woman with coily, onyx hair. The London streets weren''t what Hollywood presented them as, there wasn''t potential, everything was expensive and the air was heavy with gloom. Constantly moist surroundings made the atmosphere smell of fresh soil, the soft patter of the rain droplets wasn''t an uncommon sound. Artemis was (to say the least) disappointed when he realised the air wouldn''t get much clearer and tensions would only rise. Nonetheless, he resumed his path towards a familiar face. ¡°Detective Zahra Naaji, a pleasure to be working adjacent to you in this case¡± Artemis smiled tensely, bringing out a hand for her to shake. ¡°Always so professional, Arty I''ve known you long enough that you don''t have to refer to me as anything more than Zahra¡± Her voice was smooth, delicate and laced with a powerful, pronounced Egyptian accent. Her hair was placed into a bun, some curly strands spilling over, covering her decadent face. Her features were sharp, straight with a cut jawline, upturned eyes, coffee coffee-stained irises whilst her lips were velvet, full and plump. Artemis always thought of her as a model, her assertive stride and natural chirp were oddly fascinating. Then her personality made him lose his mind and consider resignation.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°I appreciate your distaste for my speech patterns are fixed and I shall try to limit my use of your surname, however, -for my own comfort- please do not refer to me as ''Arty'',¡± His way of talking had a tendency to either spark a curious flame or make someone feel simple-minded and moronic. Artemis would have rolled his eyes in any which case. ¡°I will never not miss that mouth of yours, anyways, this play the poet has performed is awfully brutal, looking at it alone makes me ill¡± Zahra stated with a less than excited expression painting her perfect features. ¡°Anything note-worthy?¡° Artemis pondered. ¡°Only the small letter he''d left, the prick didn''t leave a trace of anything else, the man''s name was Damien Brown,¡± Zahra placed a hand over her mouth, heaving, ¡°Jesus Christ, I can''t stay here, I''ll be off to see Juliette.¡° Meekly nodding, Artemis heard the clacking of her heels become less pronounced, finally taking a look for himself at the situation the killer had displayed in such a bloodthirsty fashion. The scene was still, unmoving and stationery, the air around becoming stagnant as the blood seemed to stick to the discoloured walls. Everything was placed perfectly, in a melancholic symphony with one another. The only thing missing was the body currently being assessed in the lab. ¡°The poet who played God huh?¡° Artemis murmured to himself, carefully calculating his steps to avoid the blood. A flutter of a piece of parchment had coined his interest, ¡°This is the letter then.¡± The crackle of the paper as he picked it up echoed around the small alley walls, he could practically taste the metallic ego of the writer already. Can you smell that? Metallic taste. Cracking of bones, As the lights shuddered Intestines warped Heart thumped Limbs torn off And conscience crackled, With utter distaste. Maybe kisses, love can change For now, he has completed That metamorphosis.¡¯ Artemis rolled his eyes, the garish and uncivilised note proved his theory that the man was a psychopath. Lack of rhyme, rhythm and overuse of enjambment pointed signs to this murder being unplanned, almost incomplete with no preparation. Although he only had some examples of his poems before, this one seemed different. A hiccup. However, Artemis set that thought aside, rather he was puzzled by the mention of the intestines. He wasn''t much disturbed by the organs when he first saw the pictures, yet it spiked his curiosity. Knitting his eyebrows together at the apparent mystery at hand, he felt satisfied by the amount of inferring he would be subjected to in the coming months. Pushing himself up, he walked back to his car after a brief (mostly one-sided) conversation with the policemen, informing him of what had been found alongside time. After taking his absence, he made an effort to drive to the lab in which the autopsy had taken place. He reached his destination in a matter of minutes however neither worried nor stressed, only a small wrinkle of his brow was evident. His only show of emotion. It wasn''t as if he was a squeamish person. Juliette had greeted him before he had any time to properly associate himself with his surroundings, ¡°Artemis, I''m so glad to finally meet you, my name is Juliette¡± she grinned at him, her eyes downturned, bright and ever so shiny. ¡°The same could be said for you, Juliette Blanchet, a privilege to be working with you in this case,¡± he had reached out his hand for her to shake, which she graciously accepted. Soft hands caressed his equally velvet skin with ease. ¡°Well me and Sophie had just finished the autopsy an hour or two ago, the body is still on the table if you''d like to check it out. It''s Uh grim to say the least¡± she smiled sheepishly. Her hair was tied back in a high ponytail, dirty blonde with licks of strawberry as if it were an ice cream swirl, even if it were it wouldn''t be as sweet as the woman in front of him. Although she stood quite short, her confidence kept her on her feet with her every loving passion for helping and fighting for justice. Inspirational, delightful, and irresistible are some adjectives that were used to describe Juliette, her amber eyes reflecting those of a simple yet captivating deer. He nodded, laying down light, pleasant steps on the ground as he noticed Zahra also analysing the body. ¡°Do you think something feels, hm, odd? Off almost? Something is out of place,¡± Zahra mentions to Artemis who is still perplexed at the precise incisions made at the fleshy mass. It was vile, a mess and in general disgusting. The revolting body had looked to have been skinned whilst the victim was alive, the intestines both removed at the end of his torment. No stitches were present. A ghastly sight, indeed. ¡°It seems so messy. Although we aren''t familiar enough with his patterns to be entirely sure this disaster wasn''t planned, or worse.¡° Artemis stated calm and composed. ¡°A copycat maybe?¡° Juliette offered. ¡°Good call, Jules but this is definitely the poet.¡° Zahra stated confidently. ¡°I must agree with Zahra, albeit, we still don''t know enough about him, to correctly make that assumption that is,¡± Intrigued Artemis, his mind swimming in possibilities pulling out his notebook to jot down a couple words from his breast pocket, ¡°We shall sleep on it for these odd circumstances,¡± ¡°Sure, his body will be put in the morgue,¡± Juliette stated the morbid truth with an odd cheer. ¡°Wait a minute, Juliette did you run a background check? On Damien Brown that is.¡± ¡°I''m sure we did, you can check it out in the police office I''ll send you the file when we find it,¡± she took off her gloves slowly, ¡°I haven''t had the time to read it all, just some basic medical history.¡° Artemis nodded, he was about to leave until a police officer had walked in on the 3 of them standing around the piece of flesh, looking as dishevelled as ever. ¡°What happened, are you alright?¡° Zahra asked hurriedly, Juliette''s gaze was coated in a thick layer of concern whilst Artemis waited patiently, although on edge. ¡°Another body was found.¡° Etched in favour As the cold weather continues to swarm and suffocate the already dense streets of London, the air is only fueled with a piercing tension, sharper than the needle currently plunged in the throat of a middle-aged woman. She was left in utter disrepair, no part of her recognisable other than her face, a forever implanted petrified, terrified expression etched into her -well lack of existence. The theme of absence continues as she is decapitated, lost for words so to speak, her spinal cord still displayed horrifically, her head placed on a stone pillar without a comforting (yet rather deadly) Griffin gently protecting the streets. The body was nowhere to be found. Policemen could hear a pin drop when they arrived at the scene, stoic, stationary, silent were the surroundings until the long chain of tension was simply snapped by Artemis himself, accompanied by Zahra, who was on the verge of showcasing what she had for breakfast. What a funny thought, to view humans as a part of a catalogue. ~???~ Artemis paced around the woman, the quiet he broke earlier was begging to be brought out as the police taped off the scene and escaped the reality of mankind''s true actions. Ignorance was Artemis'' biggest enemy. ¡°Arty, there''s another one of those disgusting notes, with a flower stuck to it?¡° Zahra''s smooth voice was cut, coated with a thick layer of confusion and inquiry as she picked up the letter with a gloved hand. The flower was incredible, white and pristine. Although it didn''t seem to be in season. ¡°Any growth that isn''t human potential seems impossible in this city,¡± Artemis stated nonchalantly as if a woman''s spinal cord wasn''t leaking in front of his very eyes. ¡°Seems to be a tulip, my mam used to own this impeccable garden,¡± Zahra almost tried to comfort herself as she passed the letter and the tulip to her colleague. ¡°Let''s have a read then shall we,¡± What would you define as art? Not like it''ll tear me apart From the performance I play, To watch them sway, From the frontlines. What would you do for a line? Would you decapitate your future? Ps. ''The poet who played God'' is definitely my favourite, very clever. It''ll be a pleasure to be working with you, Detective Arty ? Without a cohesive thought running through Artemis'' mind, he suddenly dropped the note alongside the tulip, which was promptly picked up by an officer and swiftly taken away for testing. ¡°Are you ok?¡° Zahra placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, supporting him from afar as he was shaking slightly. The realisations hit him one after the other, waves of reality splashing him as if he were an insignificant shell. He heard him. ¡°He heard me.¡° Artemis finally started, ¡°He uh, well, ahem he heard a comment I may have claimed during the previous murder,¡± He coughed, clearing his throat which now desperately pleaded for more water or any type of hydration. Come to think of it, his whole body felt parched. He thought how a nice hot shower could wash away the sin he felt like committing, to strangle the corrupted soul who left a woman simply dangling.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Too bad two wrongs don''t make a right, right? ¡°That sick bastard,¡± Artemis meekly nodded, holding onto Zahra to regain his balance, yet his placements were still extremely coordinated. Unable to commit a single error. After a long pause and a small, weak and feeble swallow from Artemis, his tongue was able to move with much more haste, ¡°He is aware of my name, and my connections alongside this case early on. This feels like no coincidence, the rhyme scheme was perfect with almost no fallacies, fast pace with rhetorical questions. Only the last line broke free of this cursed rhyme,¡° He declared. ¡°That- that is a lot of information, maybe we should meet up with Juliette,¡± Zahra''s kind voice boomed, her humble nature dedicated to comforting the sick. Something Artemis respected especially, although confused by how she could be so ever patient, he would''ve lost a nerve by now. After a much more powerful nod, they both got in Zahra''s car, driving on the rough roads filled with cracks from wear and tear. It was ironic, almost hypocritical to Artemis the signs of decay deemed ''appropriate'' by society, laughing without any humour, it was filled with lead as it oozed from the back of his throat in the rather noisy car. ~???~ They finally arrived at a small caf¨¦, Juliette inside waiting for them as they both solemnly walked inside. That very caf¨¦ was the complete and utter opposite of what Artemis and Zahra had to suffer earlier, tender, plush jazz from America''s 1920s played, something both of them seemed to need as their faces were hard as flint. Finally, they sat down with Juliette, stern expressions glued to their faces whilst Zahra was trying to soften it ever so slightly. ¡°What happened? Do I even want to know? Are you two doing alright? Should I call a doctor?¡° With each question, Juliette got more and more panicked as the responses she gained were no more than limited, she was mostly greeted with a stone grip of silence. After a moment of pure exhaustion, Zahra spoke up. ¡°We uh, that murder was one of the worst,¡± she hesitated to tell Juliette the full truth, her nature to protect the things she deemed fragile overcame the need to tell the truth this time around. ¡°A woman was found with only her head and her spinal cord out, a needle plunged deeply into her neck -her body wasn''t found. I believe her name was Carmilla Jackson. The killer knows my name and association with the case,¡± Artemis hoped no one could hear the slight quiver in his voice. Naming the dead as if they were a part of a catalogue was nightmare-inducing. ¡°I couldn''t imagine how cruel a person has to be to do that,¡± Juliette finally muttered, with purpose. The long breath of silence stabbed all of them, slowly bled them out until another spoke up with nothing but pure malice towards the deranged psychopath. ¡°Yeah, uh on a hopefully lighter note, he left us a flower,¡± Zahra desperately tried to lighten the situation. ¡°Indeed he did, it was a tulip,¡± ¡°A tulip? That represents perfection as well as opportunity, they aren''t in season now they only grow in spring,¡± Juliette perked up at the slight hint of spring, it was as if the season was hers altogether, Zahra would''ve preferred summer if the conversation ever decided to shift to a much lighter, easier topic. Artemis pulled out a notebook and started scribbling down notes, nodding alongside Juliette''s calming words, turning a page and looking up at the two of them with confusion. ¡°Did we ever get any information on Damien?¡° ¡°Using first names? Who are you Artemis?¡° Zahra tried to joke as Juliette coughed up a small laugh, dropping her lop-sided smile moderately. ¡°He was an awful person, after you two left I felt I needed to check out the file, a violent man that would abuse women until they were sucked clean.¡° ¡°Overconsumption at its finest,¡± Artemis rolled his eyes, men of that nature were deemed inhuman in his mind, vile, unadulterated anger swept at his feet as he regained his posture, squeezing his eyes shut for a few ticks. ¡°Holy shit,¡± Zahra covered her mouth, ¡°Both his intestines were yanked out and placed on display, gluttony,¡± you could''ve heard a pin drop at the revelation. The ringing burned through their ears as the jazz was smothered. Juliette looked to be on the verge of tears, Artemis clenched his fists together. ¡°I.. feel like that would be much too obvious, he mentioned the intestines deliberately, I hope he is trying to almost play coy, or maybe even a crude game of red herrings,¡° Artemis swallowed thickly, perplexed and trying (and failing) to seem unbothered by this sudden revelation. ¡°I beg that you are right, but we should remember this,¡± Zahra smiled, the type of smile you smile when you are in utter disbelief, no humour could hold her accountable as her voice seeped with curiosity and pain. Artemis made it his mission to write down another set of haphazardly drawn symbols and etches into his small notebook, a big ''religious undertones?'' Underlined with the fine ink. After what felt like decades, they were kicked out of the caf¨¦, all of them calling it a night, separating to rest in their own houses. Only after creating a simple plan for the next day could they feel any type of relief, meeting with the family of Carmilla would reveal a metallic, bitter truth in the pool of deception they were currently swimming in. Artemis arrived home soon enough, rushing to take a hot shower that left his skin rosy red, walking out in his sleepwear, he fed his small ragdoll kitten, which he called marshmallow, seemingly the only decision he made in his life that wasn''t intentional, and filled up a glass of water. All of what he was doing was his normal routine, yet he couldn''t shake the feeling of being watched off his back. It was as if the crime of the man was following him, taunting him. With the inkling of liability, he gasped at every corner, whipping his head around trying to catch something or someone that didn''t exist. Laughing melancholically, he stepped closer towards his bed. One step at a time. Closer and closer. Until he was at the foot of his bed. His bed. No one else''s. He threw the duvet with an exasperated huff, expecting to find something, anything. He was almost disappointed. Mostly terrified and paranoid, yet that emotion couldn''t be ignored either, as muffled as it was. Climbing in bed he was left in silence, darkness and nothingness. Laying his head on the pillow, he felt like he wasn''t sober, drunk on adrenaline. What the fuck was that? He turned at every small noise, marshmallow sat at his feet. It got closer, the noise. Never stopping a beat. Closer, more defined. Artemis could draw out the vibrations. He stood up, opening his door a crack. He found nothing. A painting of a corpse Artemis was alone. That''s what he convinced himself, what he couldn''t convince was the aching paranoia that gnawed at every fibre of his being. A sleepless night seemed to be on his agenda. As the morning sun came up, Artemis couldn''t help but laugh at the reality of the situation. He was scared of utterly nothing. A nothing that meant everything to him. Nothing so nonexistent that it terrified him. Rubbing his tired eyes, he collected all the energy he had to his work, his face stone cold whilst he wouldn''t show the obvious fear that had enveloped and taken hold of him. His being scared wouldn''t help the case and surely wouldn''t stop the killer. With his nerves on edge and face carved into a perfect image of a blank slate, a painting waiting for its colour, he got himself prepared for work. ~???~ ¡°I feel so bad for her children,¡± Juliette started, hoping to break that dreaded silence that constantly washed over them. Currently, the three of them had entered the interrogation room, Zahra wearing a dark turtle neck alongside long, deep red trousers almost as if mourning. Juliette kept her colours as bright as she could, her hair tied back with a pink clip, a white blazer and cream trousers accompanied by pink heels. Artemis kept his outfit plain, the same as normal, only the colours changed from deep brown to a dark navy, the only pop of light came from his natural, radiant, hazel eyes. It was almost as if he defied nature, covering himself in a mask of darkness. ¡°This is sick asking them to relive their trauma,¡± Zahra gagged on her guilt, choking on it as it was forced down her throat. Juliette nodded in agreement, drifting around the room as a means to distract herself. ¡°I do believe this choice isn''t the best, but in this case, it is deemed essential. I feel it to be unnecessary to cause anyone else such pain due to this¡­ mass murderer, if we can gain some useful information, we could stop the spread of such an abhorrent emotion due to a man out of his wits,¡± Artemis methodically clarified. His voice cracked ever so slightly, yet he managed to cover it up with his own steps pacing around the room. They all suddenly turned to the sound of another pair of footsteps, loud and harsh, contradicting the soft clicking of Juliette''s heels and the taps of Artemis'' shoes. ¡°The victim''s kids are ready for you, all in separate rooms. I would be gentle,¡± a jagged voice of an officer filled the empty air, his appearance scruffy but obviously empathetic to the situation at hand. ¡°Right, thanks officer,¡± Juliette turned around to where Zahra and Artemis now stood side by side, oddly still, ¡°Should we all take one each or should we go one at a time together?¡° ¡°For the sake of time and my sanity, we should all take one,¡± Zahra sounded exhausted, an aged sapphire. Artemis nodded listlessly, picking up what was left of all their saneness, they stepped towards the doors containing one of each of the 3 children, the only legacy Carmilla Jackson had left behind after her unfortunate demise. ~???~ ¡°Hello, my name is Zahra, what''s your name?¡° She started with the basics, a cool, bleeding shiver ran up her spine as the girl in front of her looked up, eyes red from crying, blonde hair dishevelled with her mascara running carelessly down her full, doughy cheeks. She sat down in front of her, the squeak vibrated around the stoic, lethargic room. ¡°Don''t you have that in your file already?¡° The girl tried to add some humour to the already awful conversation, death was never meant to be heartening. ¡°That is true, but you might prefer being referred to by another name, best not to assume,¡± Zahra beamed at her, earning back a fragile smile her way. ¡°My name is Adelaide Jackson, I am also 18, so I''d rather you wouldn''t treat me as a child,¡± Zahra felt her back straighten, jumping in surprise at how quickly Adelaide had picked the pieces up to her soul and identity, however her confidence wasn''t unwelcome. ¡°Well, Adelaide, could you possibly answer some questions linking to your mother''s murder? This conversation is being recorded but you have no reason to be forced into answering anyone if you feel you can''t.¡° A sniffle came from Adelaide as she wiped away the remaining tear, more threatening to fall to hear her mother''s name be said in a categorical sense, just another death to them, just another name, ¡°I''ll try my best.¡° Although, Adelaide knew there was practically nothing she said would help in the case. ~???~ Soft clicking heels filled the room, a room already suffocated in heaves, sobs and wretches as a girl, no older than 16, tries and fails to function. Juliette''s eyebrows furrowed, her own eyes swelling at the nauseous sight. No dead body could make her blood run as bitter as raw, unadulterated human agony. Looking at the utter misery the girl was in made Juliette feel unable to truly comprehend that she had felt more torture than this sweet, innocent victim. One that laid her emotions on the stone, smokey grey table right in front of her. ¡°Hello, my name is Juliette I have some questions for you.¡° The tone felt more like a question within itself than a statement, she sat down in front of her, tentatively.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°I just,¡± another heave, hiccup and a long, shaky breath, the girl fanned her face with her hands, ¡°I just- can''t- won''t - I, oh god, I-¡± another anguished sob escaped her lips, unable to catch her breath again. ¡°Hey, you don''t have to do anything, I''m here to help you, not to intimidate,¡± Juliette''s words rang in the girl''s mind. She looked up at her, eyes stained a ruby red tint, the same scarlet that blushed her cheeks, her hair dishevelled from her pulling on it in hopes of calming down the attack so unjustly placed upon her. A long deep breath, a rugged exhale, ¡°My- my name is Harmony. I um, I am sorry for, ah, my um outburst. I just- just God I can''t get my words out,¡± her frustration felt familiar. Juliette smiled thoughtfully, yet full of sombre which almost made Harmony burst out in tears again. ¡°Harmony is a beautiful name, fitting to a girl such as yourself,¡± a cheap compliment, but Juliette meant every word as Harmony looked up at her again through her glassy, fragile eyes. She could almost sense the years of damage and naivety practically evaporate from Harmony like a sad melody. A melody one would listen back on and get that deep feel of nostalgia now inaccessible to this youthful soul. ¡°Thank you,¡± she hiccuped, pausing between words to take in breaths struggling to keep her alive, ¡°My brother and I have matching first letters in our names, us being twins made our mother- God our mother- she''s dead.¡° She laughed, whipping her head up to look at the ceiling, clenching her hands into fists so tight they were turning white. ¡°My mother is dead,¡± tears welled up again, ¡°And there''s absolutely nothing I can do,¡± ~???~ ¡°Good evening,¡± Artemis started gradually, his voice levelled but thick as he advanced towards the weak, plastic chair, sitting down, back straight in front of the boy. He looked deep in thought as his rich blonde hair covered his face, eyes focused on the table, unmoving. The boy was stiffer than a corpse. ¡°Who are you? What do you want from me?¡° Artemis was taken aback by the hostility leaking, polluting the air around them with tension thick enough to be sliced and served. Clearing his throat and fixing his tie, he began to speak softly, ¡°My name is Artemis Nektarios, I am here to ask some questions regarding your mother.¡° As apathetic as the outside shell Artemis tried so hard to keep intact, he let some empathy glimpse out from beneath the cracks, he was convinced he did it for the sake of the boy. ¡°What is there to ask? She''s dead. Isn''t it pretty cut and dry?¡° Artemis sighed, the boy hadn''t looked his way, keeping his gaze glued to his own hands which were twitching, spasming being his control. ¡°I would appreciate your cooperation, what is your name?¡° Artemis toned down his way of speech, simplicity suffices in matters so complicated on occasion. ¡°Harvey.¡° He scoffed. ¡°Harvey, could you tell me anything about your mother?¡° Artemis enjoyed the name as it rolled off his tongue, ¡°I do quite enjoy your name,¡± he spoke before he thought, clasping his mouth shut and squeezing his lips into a tight line. ¡°What''s with the fancy talk? Thanks anyways I guess,¡± a couple of tears feared to roll off the boys'' puffy cheeks, which were already carmine glazed, ¡°uh- my mum. She- Well, she was¡­ Jesus Christ I think I just realised she''s actually dead. Like- she- God, I- what was done to her?¡° Harvey was desperate by now, begging Artemis for answers, such as he was entitled to. ¡°¡­She was found decapitated, her body yet to be found,¡± Artemis paused as he watched realisation practically pour over Harvey, his expression melted from hostile and bitter, to sombre to utterly distraught. Letting out a cursed sob, he cupped his face in his hands and cried, he wept and sniffled. ¡°Holy- I- what. There''s no way. No- no she can''t be dead, I saw her just yesterday, or was it two days ago? Wait- I,¡± Harvey was rambling, meshing his words together in a fabricated manner. His words were barely that, yet Artemis wrote down whatever he could scrounge up from the heap of emotions displayed upon him. Still, he felt there was nothing he could do to help the boy, who had finally registered his mother gone, forever. ~???~ Sitting in the same police office as they once began their day with, all three of them gathered what notes they could from Adelaide, Harmony and Harvey. Zahra''s glow appeared ever so slightly, more pronounced than earlier before the interviews, on the contrary, Juliette looked exhausted. Her eyes showed a hint of red, her mascara faintly smudged against her cheek. ¡°Well, Zahra what information have you acquired from,..Adelaide was it?¡° Artemis started before that creeping silence enveloped them once again. ¡°Yeah Adelaide, she was very cooperative, she had informed me that their mother had gone missing for 3 days, which was normal for them because she works many different jobs and comes back very late and gets up early,¡± Juliette seemed distracted but tried to listen, looking at her feet while Artemis started jotting down whatever Zahra had been saying. ¡°They only ever heard from the police that she had been found dead, Adelaide didn''t tell her siblings how, but in general she didn''t have much to say, it was a normal day for them.¡° ¡°Did she mention time?¡° ¡°Unfortunately not, I asked but she didn''t know,¡± Artemis let out a hopeless sigh, leaning back on the wall behind him, folding his hands delicately across his chest. ¡°What did the others say?¡° Juliette shook at this, yet it went unnoticed by Zahra and Artemis as they tried to place the puzzle pieces together to solve the murder. ¡°Harvey was very hostile, it only took 2 minutes for him to truly break down into a fit of sobs. He had told me he thought he saw his mother 2 days ago so his perception of time has clearly suffered. Anything he had informed me of has to be taken with a pinch of salt,¡± he ran through his sentence smoothly, avoiding the uncomfortable situation of Harvey''s clear panic attack, fortunately, Artemis had helped him through it yet that didn''t give them any information. Gloating that he helped a grieving child wouldn''t help the case in general. Zahra just nodded at the information, motioning to Juliette, ¡°What about you?¡° Juliette had been startled, her head flew up. ¡°I didn''t get anything from her,¡± Juliette was snippy, short with her answer. Zahra''s gaze flew to see the state of her, eyes red, swollen with old smudges of mascara that were desperately swiped at. Her whole world shattered, for reasons unknown. She watched Juliette''s breathing hitch, chest rising and falling with more and more haste from the look in her eyes. She could taste the salt. The salt of the tears that stained Adelaide. Harmony. Harvey. She wouldn''t -couldn''t- let anyone else be swallowed whole by one of mankind''s worst inventions. Grief. Running, she wrapped her arms around the smaller girl. Juliette''s hands were cold. Her face was warm and wet. She was in her arms. She wasn''t a victim, she wasn''t at work, she wasn''t home. She was in her arms. She was alive. Zahra whispered anything yet nothing, so sweet yet powerful which succeeded in Juliette calming down. Her breathing was haphazard, yet it was comforting, coercing Zahra''s heart into a sense of security. A sweet lullaby. Juliette is alive. Artemis watched in utter shock, mouth agape with no thoughts running through his mind for once. He blanked. A destitute, lonely silence broke each of them in ways deemed so torturous that the poet would''ve been jealous. They were all alive. But at what cost? Tried for failure The past couple of days were rapid, unforgiving and in many ways, futile. Utterly apathetic was the killer, playing God with the people (or toys as he seems to view them) and etching his way into the minds of 3. Carving his name into the identity of those who strive to stop the widespread fear that swept London off its feet like a cheap romcom. Zahra wasn''t in the office first. T. The clacking of her heels comforted all as it signified the hope that she clung onto, the everlasting and neverending faith she brought to the whole team, yet they were absent. Julliette aimed to provide solace, gratitude, and positivity while remaining sensitive. Artemis acquired facts, his apathy being eerily helpful. ¡°Have you the foggiest idea where Zahra might be?¡° Artemis let a crack of concern creep out of his voice, keeping the volume low to smother the vulnerability he hides so naturally. Juliette could see him softly breaking like fine China, his speech becoming more formal in a bitter way, instead of being its normal endearing, ¡°I can text her,¡± Artemis glanced at her with his eyes wide. However, he let them relax almost immediately. ¡°Artemis, we all need to take a break,¡± she sucked in a breath. ¡°How come? It has only been 3 days, or was it 4?¡° He muttered to himself, his hand stroking his chin. ¡°I''ll go find Zahra, you should go home and- do whatever you do to relax. Maybe read a book or have a glass of wine.¡° She was shorter than him by a mile, yet she managed to make him shrink and bow his head in defeat. A hidden talent she used often and was ever so proud of. ¡°I agree this case hasn''t been the kindest to us but-¡± Juliette gave him a sharp stare, he felt his tongue fall flaccid in his mouth as the gaze stabbed through him, impaling him cleanly. She needn''t say more, leaving the office with her phone up to her ear, he presumed she was calling Zahra. Artemis could all but stand like a pole, his head lolled down, tail between his legs. After a sharp minute had passed, assuring he was now alone, he let out an annoyed sigh. He wouldn''t let the murders go with such ease, he wasn''t worthy of a break when the killer was out -unknown and loose- him reading a book with no intentions of furthering his research would be, well, laughable. Harvey wasn''t worthy of losing a mother, the world doesn''t deserve another cardinal sin placed methodically on top of the already massive pile of disappointment, (if he truly did exist) God doesn''t deserve another frown on his wrinkled, joy-deprived brow. With that, Artemis did in fact leave, to conduct his own private research. No plan behind any of what today would bring upon him, yet determination battled heroically against his fear of the brittle unknown. ~???~ Juliette took the bus after a rather unsuccessful phone call, the way it swept side to side aggressively comforted her in a way she couldn''t explain, buses were one of the things that made her think of London. It truly made her feel at home when she first moved from the quiet nature of her hometown in Normandy, France. The soft sand she was used to was now replaced with heavy rocks and boulders, her excitement very prominent nonetheless when she moved to England. When she took her absence, she powered through the streets, looking like she had a purpose in a world full of futility, her enjoyment of the community sprouted from the seed which was their ability to make everything they do purposeful. No matter the occasion, they all had the same determined expression on their faces whilst striding down the pavement. All business suits, professionalism and loudness which Juliette couldn''t get enough of. Even the noisy tourists, excited to be faced with the grey, smog-filled, humid and poverty-ridden London were a sight to behold. Continuing on her independent mission, she pushed her way through crowds of people to a path so recognisable and transparent in nature. The atmosphere had calmed down, quieter but maintaining that same force that couldn''t be accomplished from where she was from, the leaves crushed under he heels as she finally knocked on a rather familiar door. Some crashing, tripping and comically large amounts of noise of surprise ensued until a figure appeared in front of her. "Zahra." "Juliette." "May you be so kind as to let me inside?" Zahra''s frame could only be described as frail, measly as his confidence disappeared in only a couple hours, letting Juliette inside with a weak nod of the head as she locked the door behind her. "What brings you here? I already called in sick so I''m not coming to work," Zahra explained with no bounce in her voice, standing in her plain pyjamas with her hands crossed. The jagged, hospital-like light above her still made her look like an angel. "I''m here for you, I will not let you wallow in doubt and sadness- at least not by yourself," Juliette smiled, a sort of pity smile, yet it still felt charming. They remained in silence until Zahra beckoned Juliette into her living room, only asking if she wanted a beverage. Juliette admired her living room, the walls were all white, yet covered in paintings, decorations and floral hanging plants. Similarly, her sofa was a delicate, velvety nude brown with leaf patterns. The table in front was glass and dark oak, in the middle was a vase containing Bethlehem stars and forget-me-nots, a new combination yet admirable. Finally, Zahra walked into the room holding two cups of raspberry-meringue tea, a favourite of hers, she always seemed to have a story with anything she owned. If the particular event that led to Juliette coming over for tea was any different than now, Zahra would''ve talked her ear off about her dad buying this certain tea accidentally. Then she would''ve explained the love she gained for it afterwards.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. "You had no business in checking up on me, I''m perfectly capable on my own," Zahra started, slicing at the tension yet not completely breaking it, almost teasing it. "Yet here I am doing it," Juliette answered assertively, "What happened with you and Adelaide? I can tell something bothered you." At that, Zahra hesitated, she didn''t reply as she tore away her gaze from the azure blue of Juliette''s eyes. The fact and blatant display of her true determination and respect were crystal clear, with no hint of remorse as she showed Zahra a clear window into what her intentions were, juxtaposing the very foggy and clouded-up emotions she was experiencing on her own. Well, not anymore of course. "How the hell did you convince Artemis to come check on me? Would''ve been up my ass if I decided to have the day off," Zahra had completely avoided the topic, unwelcoming it. "I told him the truth, we all took a hit from this cruel case, we all needed a break, and he especially needed a glass of whiskey. The attitude on him can be poisonous," Juliette moved to a lighter tone, an easier topic of how stuck-up Artemis could be. Zahra let out an exhale and a small yet noticed giggle. "He always had that attitude, I love him for it," the small sighs of contentment didn''t last long as the silence etched its way back. Shivering at the ice it formed over the pools of unsolved distress. It was then that Zahra could sharply squeeze out, "I saw myself in Adelaide," for it to crack and release wave after wave of embarrassment, dread and defeat. Juliette nodded, an encouraging move for Zahra to continue. "I knew what she was going through. I felt it with her. She was acting, trying to protect her siblings. I could tell she put on a strong front. It was as if- as if she was obliged to do it. Fill a role destined for her. Yet she knew it wasn''t what she dreamed of, she wanted a fairytale ending. A happily ever after. But all her wanting ended up washed away as she gritted her teeth through my questioning. Do you know what the worst part is?" Juliette could only shake her head. "I could see her innocence being shredded apart. Yet my only selfish thought was the fact that I felt the same way when my mother died." As the penny dropped, spinning menacingly until softly tapping on the metaphorical floor, it wasn''t silent. Juliette could still hear the police sirens that never ceased to end, the wet footsteps on the moist pavement, the patting of velvet as Zahra tried to soothe herself from what was to come by caressing her couch. "Zahra, you aren''t selfish. Including personal life is bound to happen in any job, you are a blinding beacon of faith in the office," She took a deep breath in, "I hope you didn''t feel forced to say that," she didn''t want to downgrade a death to just ''that'', however, she seemed to be lacking words. Her mind working overtime yet her mouth slacking, only to mime the words she wishes she could speak. "You didn''t force me into anything, I shouldn''t have had that thought to begin with" Zahra pained. "This-," Juliette looked exasperated, "Isn''t the problem. Thoughts will come unwelcomed, they are unstoppable. What counts is what impact they have on us." Zahra forgot the meaning of words at that, bursting into tears, that were well overdue, dripping hastily down her flawless skin. Juliette enveloped her in a yearning hug. 3 days it took for the poet the break her enough to cry into Juliette''s arms. It took 3 years of painfully dwindling her self-worth and mourning until what she thought was ashes. Just for it to rise like a phoenix, burning her, scolding her yet sympathising with her. Not many words were spoken after, the two women spent the rest of the day similarly. Enjoying each other''s company, smiling through tears. It could''ve been pure heroin from how addictive the atmosphere around them warped, dancing with the flame that once seared and blistered Zahra''s delicate tissue. ~???~ Artemis was an idiot. He knew it, yet his stubborn mind refused to submit or let him lay down. Maybe that glass of wine wouldn''t be such a bad idea. In any case, he was now walking through the streets of London, he himself used to be skittish, eyes on the ground, avoiding the world and focusing solely on his task. However, now he walks with confidence, a stride of which he was proud yet still hyper-focused on the mission he set himself on. This time, he had decided to go to a local flower shop, the murderer seemed to adore placing an innocent, living creature on top of his deceased, decaying creations. If the theory of symbolism behind the flowers was true, he might as well be informed. Entering the shop, he saw women idly standing behind the till. She was a pretty sight, with long, straight blonde hair that was thrown over her shoulder in a long braid, her eyes were emerald green (fitting with the vines that covered the walls) wearing her work uniform. Her nails were painted bright chartreuse green. "Good afternoon," Artemis walked towards the till with a small smile, still avoiding eye contact as he examined the foliage and decor. "Hello! How may I help you? My name is Maddie," her voice was high, her face slightly flushed red. "I''ve had a sudden... interest in flowers as of late, I''d like to have a conversation about the history and symbolism behind some of them. Would you care to help me in my search?" Maddie was shocked at his way of speech, nevertheless, she was intrigued just like anyone is when they first meet the man. "No problem, any flower you are specifically wondering about?" She asked politely. "Not necessarily, I''m happy with any knowledge you decide to share with me," he smiled at her, looking her in the eyes briskly before tearing them away again. She moved her gaze in the direction of Artemis'' eyes, he was currently scanning a pretty bouquet, it was made up of mostly white flowers but there were some flutters of pink and blue. "I see you might be interested in this bouquet, sir. I made it for a client''s engagement party. He requested forget-me-nots. The name makes it obvious to the meaning, yet it also shows true love," she laughed slightly, "White lilies symbolise hope, rebirth and purity, most white flowers mean a new beginning. Roses are the classic flower of love, yet dark red roses are deemed sinful since they express sultry desire." She moved smoothly along, grabbing another bouquet that was almost completely yellow. "Yellow roses symbolise friendship and joy, this client, in particular, got this as a goodbye gift." The more Artemis listened, the more curious his mind became. It beckoned him to learn more. He didn''t say much, merely nodded and asked a couple dozen questions about the poisonous plants, as well as the carnivorous ones and where they tend to grow. Every word spoken out of Maddie, he would write down in the little notebook as she moved around the shop and introduced him to things he had never considered. A sudden cold rushed over him as Maddie was next to him, perplexing Artemis as he stood listening to the stories behind the displays of plants. A melancholic chill, something that made him feel like he missed out. Or was currently missing something? Ignoring the pain, he listened to Maddie as she informed him of marigolds, lilies of the valley and chrysanthemums, never taking a break as she passed him the flowers to hold. That was until, evening came and another customer walked in, requesting a funeral service. Artemis weakly said his goodbyes at the change of atmosphere, unknown territory caused him to take his absence. Leaving the shop, he gained a good insight into what the killer may have been thinking, and buying and/or plucking these plants to mess with the police. To mess with London in general. He meandered through the street, taking the long way towards his apartment to enjoy the sunset. Twisted yellow and red hues mixed to make sweet oranges, misty purples crept in as the dark inky black swept over the city, peppered with a faint litter of stars that desperately tried to shine over the smog. Artemis would never be able to get sick of the repetitive sunset. It was one of the only things he could predict, something he couldn''t change and didn''t want to change. After some clacking of his keys, he managed to get inside the warm embrace of his small yet spacious home. He took off his leather brown coat, hanging it up before reaching into one of the pockets to grab his phone, he needed to call Juliette. Unfortunately for him, he dug his hand inside the wrong pocket, feeling around, only a small parchment could be felt. He pulled it out with caution. He only made a small noise when he slowly unfolded the teasingly neat paper. It couldn''t harm him- he forced himself to think. At least not physically. The only words written were such that Artemis never wanted to read again. "You should be more aware of your surroundings, Mr Nektarios.¡± Unlawful obsession Artemis slaps change in the face when he returns to the beautiful monotony of his office. It was quite a large room, with a desk full of trinkets and documents accompanied by a rather comfortable, caramel, leather chair. He earned this from his status, solving many cases and chipping in advice that helped longterm. Meeting up with the detective and pathologist was simple so far, they gathered at his desk with photos and evidence, discussing ideas then exploring new cases or talking to whoever they could to bring them closer to finding out his true identity. Yet Artmis still felt so helpless, begging on his bloodied, bruised knees with his palms a plum purple. It was pathetic. Still as a statue, he stood by his desk, leaning on it ever so gently (unprofessionally might he add) as his mind began to wander to more coherent thoughts. That, however, would be wishful thinking. His mind travelled miles over endless deserts, sharp mountains and desolate rivers to always end up swimming with the oh-so-familiar stream, a stream which never let him get a peaceful night''s rest. How, or more importantly who, would be able to slip a note into Artemis'' pocket without so much of an eerie feel creeping its way up his back? He wasn''t na?ve, he knew well that London was a tight, compact city with a dense population of busy people. What baffled him was the prospect that someone bumped into him, and he paid no mind. Artemis wasn''t moronic either, and even though he loathed this certain common occurrence, he knew it wasn''t strange to find people pickpocketing, brushing up against you, or worst of all, feeling their eyes trail up your body as you get enveloped in the sweet embrace of embarrassment. Then, of course, feeling that familiar itch accompanying it. Nevertheless, his agitation glowed as his frustration gnawed on him with blunt teeth; it introduced a dull ache to his mind. Freezing at the sound of footsteps, that oak (stained a great mahogany colour) door trembled with agitation as someone slowly opened it, giving Artemis time to tense and ball his fists up, knuckles pure alabaster. It was then that the offenders revealed themselves to just be his two coworkers, Juliette and Zahra. Both seemed much happier than the day prior which helped smooth a growing wrinkle on Artemis'' brow. "I am glad to see you two so positive for a change, shall we get to discussing the new evidence?" Both women looked at him dumbfounded -and surprisingly startled- as he tried to smile, eyes wide with no crinkle or shine to them. It was as if he didn''t try to fake how fabricated his emotions were at a time of such distress and anarchy. "What the hell are you still doing here?" Zahra was first to speak, her normally syrupy, thick voice was powerful and incredibly loud. That was when Artemis silently relished in his soundproof office. Nothing got in or out. "We do have a case to solve, besides the fact I have already taken a break yesterday which I was less than pleased with," he eyed up Juliette who gave a sly smile. "You are potentially the next victim of this psychopath and come into work like nothing happened?" Zahra almost yelled at him uselessly. Apparently, everything went in and out of Artemis'' ears when he had a sudden flush of curiosity (and frankly vanity) circle around him. He returned a coy smile. "This killer so far hasn''t been seen to have a particular pattern nowadays, he may not even be the individual we are looking for if we account for the possibility of a copycat, I do not believe I am on his list of victims. Although, I do have to agree I should not dispel the possibility," he clarified slowly with confidence, voice open and profound in a way that made him live up to his Mount Everest high expectations. "That-," Juliette sighed, "Doesn''t matter anyways because you are not working today." Artemis whipped his head around, "Excuse me?" "Boss said you are in too much danger, not to mention shock, so he decided to let you have at least one more day of true rest," he opened his mouth to argue, and Juliette was quick to shut him up, placing a slender finger on his lips. "This means no leaving the house, no contacting to get updates and no thinking about him." As Juliette finished, her words echoed in the mind of the two detectives, both tight-lipped with Zahra only growing a smile accompanied by a rosey blush. Artemis could only bite his tongue and swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth in defeat. "Shall I inform you two what did happen that night he taunted us with this godforsaken note? Then I promise you, ladies, I shall retreat to take this so-called ''necessary'' break," He childishly rolled his eyes as the women nodded in agreement, Juliette had a smug look which hugged her milky skin. With that, Artemis'' conceit had been wiped with a single stroke. "As far as I can remember, I decided to take a walk around the city since rotting at home felt like such an obtuse idea,¡± he let out an exasperated huff of restlessness, ¡°Continuing, I must''ve bumped into this notorious serial killer either before or after I decided to visit a little flower shop around the corner," he explicated, incredibly bored-knowing his fate would be doing the exact thing he was avoiding that night.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Zahra listened intently, whilst Juliette''s blood was boiling in acknowledgement; Artemis hadn''t been able to follow the simplest of instructions to stay home. She could only imagine how insufferable he would be in a lockdown. Nevertheless, they both tuned in to his rambling like a good soundtrack, Artemis getting bitterer and sorer. Face flushing, eyes dashing, he was a sight to behold, so dishevelled as the two women stared in awe at the man who was so detached from the concept of ''normal'' emotions. ¡°Artemis,¡± Juliette spoke up sternly, interrupting his rant. ¡°What is it now?¡° He bit back, and immediately his face scrunched up as he stuttered a small apology. She didn''t let him finish, ¡°Go home.¡° Completely defeated at this point, it seemed he had no choice but to return to the safety of his apartment, only showing the two where his files were on the incident, shuffling a coat on and taking his absence. A sigh of relief could be heard as he ushered away, rage enveloping again at the sound of that putrid breath, his ego shrank. He felt as if he had his tail tucked between his legs. ~???~ That evening had been uneventful for the detective, with no cases to fill the growing hunger that eroded his skin. Impatiently, he trudged around his apartment with no aim or reason, something that filled him with such disgust he began to mew as if injured. For a known and respected Detective, he seemed to -for once- break the play he performed of maturity and act his age. The world froze as he continued to work, posh accents and fancy colognes, combed back hair, generously gelled, of course, partnered with his modest clothing; he never informed people of his age. Call it passion, privacy, protection but the only person who would ever know would be himself. If-and only if- he knew the answer. This particular evening was different. His hair wasn''t gelled remotely, rather slicked gently with the sweat that adorned his visage, that professional uniform abandoned as he undid his collar, loosened his tie and untucked his shirt from the trousers that were held together with a half-unclipped belt. Musk, desperation and vulnerability replaced his usual vanilla soft yet deep aroma that pleased his presence. Carving into his own skin was the itch of human curiosity. Or was it obsession? Love? Passion? More questions he couldn''t find answers to. Yet he was so keen on living a paradise consecrated with ignorant bliss. Another case of obliviousness for the sole purpose of comfort- how refreshing! Opening a bottle of wine; a fancy cabernet sauvignon that he had once kept to enjoy with company. A thick, growing sense of irony flowed through him- smiling. Knowing he was going to waste it on such a witless occasion. Pouring it desperately into the glass, that pooling red filled him with so much ecstasy, so much so that he was apprehensive about thinking such a thought. He had finally slumped down upon his sofa, his spine relaxed after what seemed like an eternity of elegant posture. Turning on a random program he wouldn''t care about, he kept sipping that wine to feel some sort of warmth as it oozed down his throat. ~???~ ¡°I will need you to look out for Nektarios, I couldn''t tell you the last time he took a holiday; don''t get me started on overtime,¡± Cheif stood in Artemis'' office, a familiar and welcoming sense of deja vu washed over him as he remembered giving Artemis such a grand gesture of appreciation with only a couple years of experience. It was one of the rare times Artemis let his guard down and showed his growing excitement. Like giving a dog a bone. ¡°Yes sir, I agree wholeheartedly,¡± Juliette spoke first with not a drip of malice or annoyance. ¡°His behaviour has been concerning us, he had never acted in such a way when I first worked with him,¡± Zahra thought out loud. Chief had only nodded, leaving the room with the knowledge that there was no DNA other than Artemis'' own on the note, there had been another murder they were about to go to, and of course, reminder of Artemis'' (and frankly his own) questionable sanity. ~???~ He was alone. Half full glass of wine sat in front of him, taunting him. Or was it half empty? Why should he be forced into house arrest when there were cases to solve, clues to find and lives to save? It was all a great big joke to them. I mean, God forbid he tried his best to truly break down and digest how such a horrible person could torture these people with such ease, only to get away with no trace. Not even a measly fingerprint. He hated it. He detested him. Grabbing his coat, he decided to make an awful, selfishly selfless decision. ~???~ ¡°Hey, Jules, are you sure you want to come with? I understand you were put on temporary leave with autopsies?¡° Zahra tried to lace professionalism over her very clear worry about her work partner- throwing a quick nickname to calm someone''s nerves. She couldn''t tell whose at this point. ¡°I''ll be fine, analysing the body will help with the investigation anyways, there will be others helping nevertheless,¡± her voice smooth as honey was sweet and nurturing; Zahra could only smile back and nod. It was yet again a gory sight when they got out of the car and into the warehouse where the victim had been allegedly murdered. Evidently- the poet didn''t hold back. He was a man, well, used to be. His body was horribly disfigured into what looked like a demon. The flies flying around it would make Beelzebub proud- a creature only present in Dante''s divine comedy. If only this was a comedy. Nose bleeding, eyes gouged out and the holes left behind pooled with murky, ebony blood which had coagulated due to the chill of the warehouse. The skin of his back had been peeled, his ribs carefully taken out, snapped and sewed into the delicate flesh, then spread out into an incredible set of wings, the weight of them carried by the strings which had been attached to the failing ceiling. Jaw dislocated, it was opened wide for all to see the empty vessel. It lacked a tongue. His arms had been hacked off, only for them to be placed on either side of him, palms upwards with his doughy, placid eyes forced to lay upon the sweaty skin. He was on his knees. Praying? Announcing? Informing? It couldn''t be said. Juliette''s eyes hardened, she took a couple of pictures with no comment. There wasn''t much to say. That mouth was drowning, she could feel the hot breath of someone who was once alive to tell a sermon. He wasn''t a priest. Those same eyes which glowed upon specific individuals, the lips which curled with glee when certain phrases passed through those thin ears. Those arms stroked animals gently, clapped triumphantly, caressed with care and worked with honour. They all settled, flaccid in front of her very eyes. Her sapphire, ultramarine, luminous eyes which could see. Stormy, ink-filled, bloodshot optics which will forever have only saw. Clicking herself out of that fatal mentality, she stepped towards her colleague, nodding breathlessly- entering a glacial car. Zahra could only gag at the implication- she was next to assess. That was until a familiar display of events presented itself like a preplanned storyboard. How laughable- saved by the red-blue siren. ¡°We found Artemis,¡± her blood simmered. ¡°Dead?¡° ¡°Worse.¡° Nothing had to be said- the poet had already lobbed off all of their tongues. Guess Artemis really is moronic. Double or nothing That silhouette- it couldn''t be any clearer. It was picturesque, a blinding shadow of a figure that loomed over his presence with an almighty glow, it truly was god-like. He could only scoff, knowing for a fact that the hubris contained by the inky splodge of a man (woman?) was currently bleeding its way from his expensive, porcelain silk shirt, breaking into the delicate skin and ravaging its way through the tender muscles. It was almost enticing. Thrilling. He had left in a rush, he planned to drive to his office, yet of course, that couldn''t be possible. Not because he physically could not per se, but for the sole fact he wouldn''t be able to maintain his dignity if he showed up so flushed. That, and because he saw a bar on his way and couldn''t resist temptation. Alas, there he was. Acting a fool as the lights dimmed and bland pop songs filled the stagnant air as bodies brushed and rubbed against each other desperately. Not exactly the atmosphere you would find an introvert, let alone someone so averted to talk and touch as Artemis Nektarios himself. He prided himself in the fact his flesh was yet to be touched, to be tarnished. How unfortunate that it meant no one had worshipped, loved and cherished it in return. No one had peppered him in affection, showered him in the luxury of compliments. His eyes had been quite nice he liked to think. Pupils had been long dilated by the time he was on his 5th whiskey on the rocks, he had been sitting, neatly folded on a stool near the edge of the bar away from curious eyes (and hands), his posture slowly breaking until he was bent over, one lone finger had collected the condensation and brushed the rim of the glass with precision. That brown liquid glittered in the light, clinking delicately when tapped with a smokey wood taste delightfully flowing down his throat. It was as if he was drinking lighter fluid- isn''t that pleasurable? The gratitude he once felt for the drink had slowly faded as time went on, his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze sharpened at the sorry smell of sweat, saliva and other bodily fluids you may, unfortunately, find in a public club. It had amazed him the lack of control people could gain by the influence of alcohol, wondering how that wouldn''t be absolutely terrifying. A kind bartender had been keen to talk to him- with Artemis'' guard practically dissolved it was much easier to strike up a conversation with the detective. His name could''ve been Luca, maybe Logan. The symphony of his voice was strategic, violins start yet end abruptly for the flutes to shine, letting percussion explode after a rather tranquil start. It was truly more addicting than the dark liquid he had been sipping on. His hair was shiny, raven black and slicked with either gell or sweat from the heat; the dense atmosphere. Flashes of Royal blue had blinded Artemis, those eyes pierced him, tangled and wrapped him in vines as the emerald shards struck him with viscous intent. He couldn''t get enough. His throat made Artemis'' own close-up, veins travelling down as he desperately tried to keep his gaze on his cryptic eyes. God- his jawline could cut him open in one slice, those teeth could rip through his virgin flesh- leaving no dignity in its wake. Aphrodite blessed this man herself, touching his face with her perfect porcelain hands and making it holier than any statue, more peaceful than any temple, more violent than any weapon. Artemis was sure if it hadn''t been for the dimly lit room and the unappealing noise of wet skin, he would''ve asphyxiated. ¡°Do you live around here?¡° Maybe Lucas? Asked once most people had taken their absence, the bartender was now on his break and seemingly eager to have a lovely chat with the withering rose decaying under the grip of those green eyes. ¡°Uh- yeah, I just don''t tend to go out much. I couldn''t tell you where anything is here if I''m being honest,¡± Artemis'' fancy talk has significantly died down, he had realised this in his haze and sharpened up. All it looked like to others, however, was a man flustered and embarrassed at the unattractive fact that he locks himself in his house- or a man with no social life. Or both. ¡°London is a massive city, I can''t blame you for lacking direction. Your accent intrigues me I must say,¡± the man leaned into the small gap between them, squinting his eyes playfully. ¡°I am of Greek origin, I moved here when I was quite young and my parents were desperate to assimilate me into English culture. It is quite unfortunate that only my cuisine and language are the only evidence of my background,¡± he was aware of his rambling. Currently, he couldn''t care less about his word vomit. He''ll blame it on the alcohol. The man nodded in return, ¡°I''m surprised I haven''t seen you at all, I''ve lived here all my life. Would you dare give me your name?¡° Artemis smiled brightly, although those lights (rather lack of) burdened him with a sinister tone, yet he conceded, ¡°Artemis,¡± a simple yet alluring tone ran like sticky honey, glazing his vocal cords. The reaction he got was definitely unexpected, the bartender shot up with an awkward clearing of the throat, husky voice escaped his decadent mouth urgently, ¡°Nektarios¡­ like the detective?¡° Artemis could only swear internally, rancid thoughts swished by him like a hurricane as he focused on the poor soul in front of him. He could only breathe out a long stretch of air accompanied by a pained, ¡°yes,¡± so weak and feeble he cringed at the vulnerability. That same bartender who would look at Artemis with a honeydew smile now grimaced with a shudder, the gems hidden in those eyes didn''t glimmer, yet simmered and boiled like a pool of acid. Artemis wanted to run away, throw up, cry all at the same time yet all he did was sit in that awfully squeaky stool with his head down. After a pathetic yet solemn apology from the bartender, Artemis stood up in defeat, left some money, that he was sure was more than enough, and walked. And walked. And walked. It felt like absolute ages, dimensions passed, stars turned supernova whilst others lived on, meteors passed by his ears as he heard their faint whoosh, the moonlight wouldn''t let him rest his feet nor lay in the gentle sway of the darkness as he kept walking under its bright reflection. The moon is nothing but a rock that reflects the light of the sun, it doesn''t produce any light of its own. A star is only useful once it goes supernova, creating so much energy- at the cost of its life. A black hole can be therefore materialised via the supernova, yet it''s feared for its uncertainty and power. But what did he care? He was no astrologist. He didn''t care what the meaning of a supernova would be in a poetic sense. Hell- he couldn''t care less for the cryptic poems the obtuse killer would leave for him. He kept up this coy appearance; he pretended he didn''t know he was serving Artemis on a silver platter, cutting into his flesh with precision and malice. Was that the truth? God- Artemis couldn''t tell the difference between malice and admiration at this point. He blamed it on the alcohol. Then again, he loved to place blame- would he be human if he didn''t? Every new death, every brutal scene was a pawn in this killer''s mind, and he played Artemis like the almighty queen. But who would be the king? Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Artemis scoffed, it''s quite humorous how humans tend to lack the ability to understand complex situations such as murder, resulting in endless metaphors, ''what ifs'' and ''likes'' to hope, to grasp, or even feather touch the comprehension of everyone''s true antagonist- the human mind. Comparing people to chess isn''t new, a man-made invention so pure and fun can resemble many things- yet in the end it is just a game. To be hypocritical, the killer''s game was a puzzle only man would be capable of creating. A great God can push you in the right direction- it is man''s responsibility to register that as a tap or a shove. Red and blue were never his favourite colours, he found that quite funny as he joined the police force. It seemed less funny now as he saw those lights flickering in front of him, they were such fickle things as they flashed between the two hues. Artemis could only fall to his knees, not caring about his tarnished brown trousers or his fancy leather shoes, or his bloodied palms as they rubbed into the gravel. It made him feel somewhat alive. ¡°Jesus Christ, Nektarios,¡± the policeman could only state before bringing him into the car and driving him home, Artemis giggling in acknowledgement that he just used a powerful member of the community as a taxi. How immature. ~???~ ¡°I have no words,¡± Zahra was first to speak, her tone was surprisingly soft as she stared into the half-lidded eyes of Artemis. She and Juliette had travelled from the office into Artemis'' apartment. There wasn''t much to say about it, mostly for the fact that they had only explored the living room. They hadn''t dared approach a single door without the permission of the owner, of course, drunken words aren''t consent. Juliette has remained silent, pacing around the room, only sometimes gazing at the pathetic man sitting on the coffee sofa, his demeanour was¡­ odd. He had lost his posh accent to a certain degree and had mixed Greek words with the English language. It felt as if he was still fighting a war between himself and expectations. She almost wanted to feel indifferent, yet she cared for his legacy, she realised how difficult being stuck on a tightrope of countries can be. For the little time she had known him, Zahra had informed her that she had never seen him in this state. He had always been sober, only having a single glass of red wine in front of her eyes. Taking alcohol as an escape wouldn''t be the first thing on his weak mind, surely a couple of deaths would mean nothing to a man as dedicated and well-known as Artemis Nektarios. ¡°You will be placed on mental health absence, Artemis. There is no escaping that,¡± Zahra hoped that using his name would wake him up, he had only lifted his head, still staring at the wall. ¡°Maybe we should get him a therapist? Get an evaluation to see if he is fit for this work,¡± Juliette offered. ¡°Artemis wouldn''t allow it, trust me I''ve tried. He would take the evaluation, although he''s too clever for his own good,¡± Zahrs responded, frustrated. Juliette had nodded at the answer, ¡°We could get him to take a leave like my own? Take a break from detective work and move onto a less hands-on experience?¡° Zahra sighed, smiling fondly, ¡°He wouldn''t, I know him. You asked for a break from autopsies, he would never take a break,¡± she frowned in disappointment, ¡°Not even when it''s life-threatening.¡° After a couple of hours, Artemis seemed more awake. He could answer some questions- stuttering out Greek curses as he did. No coherent sentence was strung from the fragile man; Artemis nodded when asked to go to his bedroom. The two women trusted him (although not wanting to leave him alone) they also took their absence to their own bedrooms once they heard the door shut. They both acknowledged the privacy freak Artemis was- even when he was a little loopy. Finally, alone, he could focus on the shadow figure, the bartender, every suspect and witness so far. It was a case like no over- truly fascinating, captivating and generally exhilarating. He was constantly out of breath, gasping for air with every piece of evidence, gagging on every poem and grinning at the news of a new crime. He loved it. He knew this wasn''t healthy. It couldn''t be. Yet the feel of a new kill was as if he himself stalked and hunted the prey, he detested how much he loved the feeling. The bartender reminded him of his practice, how he could make people shudder at the mention of his name. As awkward, anti-social and coy as he was- he scared someone away because of his status. It- couldn''t be named the emotions racketeering at his head with a blunt force hard enough to cause brain damage. He sure felt like he had suffered brain damage the way he found a new death to be fun. What the hell is he thinking? This wasn''t exhilarating? It was exhausting. Every new crime brought fear to London. He wanted to avenge London, clean the streets from filthy pigs such as this ''poet''. Why was he admiring such a deranged psychopath''s murders as if they were displayed in an art museum? He cleaned, not admired. He read, never created. Although poems are so tempting. That thought lingered in his mind as he turned to sit on his bed, chocolate brown hair tattered, unorganised on his forehead, gell long forgotten. Taking a shower in the morning sounded like less effort. Turning to his side, a parchment. A small paper. A goddamn poem. You''re a beauty. Artemis, You are aware what that name means? A god of a fighter, hunter And isn''t that incredible? I love the way you create The way you try to clean Yet the way you make a mess I enjoy to watch you gleam Blood-stained and corrupt You aren''t doing good, But believe that you are It is quite an interesting route. You have so much potential, So much care, The world is your oyster But no one is willing to spare A single pound On your beautiful hazel eyes Because you are powerful A man of pride. I applaud you for that. Until next time, Maybe you''ll crumble. I''d love to watch it From the inside. Yours sincerely, The poet (who played God) Artemis laughed. He could read him so perfectly as if he had written his autobiography. Crying was an option which he wanted to desperately take, yet the pure malice of the poet''s words was personal. Oddly personal. He didn''t care- every word of his was swallowed by an animal which feasted so delicately on them, savouring every letter yet dying of starvation to do so. It almost inspired him. His face was wet, yet he wasn''t crying. His eyes hurt, but he didn''t cry. His head pounded, but he didn''t cry. He fell asleep. In control. Well- at least he hoped.