Lower East Side -- 8:05 AM
Jersey was not a happy man. He had been woken up in his little hole in the wall studio in some heap of an apartment complex in the lower side of town. It was early, his alarm wasn’t set to go off for another hour, but someone was banging on his door. He threw back his blankets and peeled himself out of bed, yelling to whoever the hell it was waking him up.
“Yeah! I’m up! A second!”
This seemed to be good enough for whoever was at the door and Jersey grumbled obscenities their way as he wiped his face with his hands. He grabbed at some pants he had lying near his bed and put them on before grabbing his phone. He turned it on and saw a text from Nathan, which was normal, and a missed call from Erica, the Pack Leader, about three hours ago. She didn’t leave a message though, so it must not have been terribly important.
He half-stumbled across his room to the door and stood there silently a moment, sniffing the air. Whoever was on the other side wore a thick amount of cologne, causing Jersey to sneeze and glower as he opened the door. The man who had been banging on his door visibly cowered as Jersey stood there waiting for the reason he was awake so early. The little man said nothing, just cowered in the hall and waited for some kind of punishment.
“What.” Jersey said more than asked.
“Jersey?” the greasy little weasel of a man asked. His hair looked like it oozed with too much product, and stuck flat to his head, he had beady little eyes and a crooked nose that had been broke one too many times. His clothes were shabby and he looked emaciated, he looked like he had come out of a sewer.
“Yes?”
The little weasley man dug into his pocket and and pulled out a folded envelope and shot his arm out for Jersey to take. He did, inspected it, and looked back to the little man, an eyebrow raised.
“This is?”
The little man shrugged and without another word bolted down the hall, practically leaping down the stairs. Jersey was surprised by his speed and just watched him go. He glanced at the envelope before shrugging and shutting his door, turning to the interior and taking a seat back on his bed. He ignored the envelope, looking to the text from Nathan and cursed.
(text)“Another body, looked like the last. Will catch up with you tonight”
He noticed the call from Erica had come in not long from the text. It was probably connected. He looked to the envelope and opened it up, a small piece of paper just said “call me back!” in Erica’s handwriting. Jersey frowned, this was stupid, why couldn’t she just leave a message? He sighed and tapped on her name, watching the phone a moment as it connected. She didn’t take long to answer.
“Jersey!” she half yelled when she answered the phone. Jersey winced.
“Yeah?”
“Where the hell have you been? I called a couple hours ago!”
“I was asleep. Is there a problem?” he was glad she couldn’t see his bored expression as he turned on his TV, muting it and flipping it to the local broadcast station to see if the news was on.
“You know damn well there is a problem! Two murders that look like werewolf attacks? This close to a full moon? What’s going on out there!?”
Erica Silvers was the pack leader of the werewolves here in town. She made the decisions, she saw to her people’s needs, and she was damn good at it. However Jersey’s pack had been eradicated, and he hadn’t bothered trying to join hers. He cooperated with her however, and made sure to check in with her on werewolf related incidents as an extra pair of eyes.
And yes, her surname was really “Silvers”. Something about taking on the name of their biggest weakness to show strength or something.
“We’re looking into it. There’s bite marks like a vamp, and the organs are gone, like a skinwalker.”
“What? Skinwalkers dont -- Look, nevermind, whatever, just… Why weren’t you at the second crime scene?” she asked sounding a little confused by his statement.
“What?”
“Why weren’t you there? Nathan was I hear, and he was there while the body was still hot. If you had met him there you could have sniffed the culprit down!”
“Yeah, maybe, but Nathan didn’t call me, no one did besides you.”
“Yeah, maybe, but Nathan didn’t call me, no one did besides you.”
Erica growled. “Well go find out what you can and then call me back. Go see if you can’t sniff something out at the crime scene.”
“Go make one of your boys do it, like that shifty weasel you sent over, what was that about anyway?”
“You know how much shit I get for relying on you from the pack, and I’m calling everyone here for an emergency meeting. We have things to discuss and no one is going out until I have discussed them. That leaves you. Now please don’t argue with me and help me out here. Thank you and good-bye.”
Jersey hung up the phone with a growl before turning up the TV to listen to an ad before making his way over to the kitchen portion of his little studio to grab something to eat. It was bad enough he had to go talk to the ‘Walkers today but now he had to go look at crime scene by himself with no information! The day was not starting off as he had hoped.
He retrieved a bowl of cereal and unmuted the TV while he roamed about his studio tidying up. Taking a bite of the generic brand [fruity cereal before picking up his boots from where he tossed them the night before and setting them by his chair. He set the bowl down on his dresser a moment as he pulled out a fresh shirt and put it on. Taking the bowl in one hand and taking a few major bites before taking a seat in his chair.
The news blared about some event happening in the city this weekend and he shrugged and turned it to another channel that played the classic cartoons. Huckleberry Hound was on and Jersey grinned at the nostalgia of being a child doing what he was doing right now. After the short cartoon was over Jersey drained the remaining milk from his bowl before placing it in the sink and giving it a rinse. He then put his boots on, grabbed his jacket, and began his day.
Iron Heights City Park -- 9:25 AM
Jersey hated checking out crime scenes by himself, they always smelled like all the men and women in blue who responded and if any were present they always wanted to talk to him. He wasn’t as charismatic as Nathan, not even half way near, and that usually spelled problems for the big man. Not today, it would seem, there were one or two officers that Jersey knew by name at the scene taking a few more pictures in the day and coming the area for evidence.
Jersey cleared his throat to alert the two officers, raising a hand in silent greeting. Technically he wasn’t a cop so he wasn’t supposed to pass the yellow police line but they knew him well enough to let him through. He’d be quick should any others show up, as it is he wasn’t expecting to find anything. As he ducked under and stepped closer to the chalk line where they had found the body though, Jersey felt a wave of uneasiness pass through him. All the hairs on his body stood on edge, and he felt as if he was in danger all of a sudden. He glanced at the two police but they had gone back to their duties.
He took a moment to gather his composure, looking around the surrounding area now to see if he could find a reason for the feeling but was unsuccessful. He sighed and sniffed the air around him, filtering through the scents of the people who were here before him, trying to find the scent of blood. It didn’t take him long, but it was faint, they had cleaned up well enough, and had enough people here to scour the area, erasing any scent trails.
Jersey sighed but felt this was what was going to happen anyway.
Feeling like he wasn’t going to find anything, Jersey quickly left and drove to his next destination: a seedy little bar over by the diner he and Nathan frequented. The owner, Gerald, was a Skinwalker, and the second-in-command for their organization. He was the only one who halfway tolerated him, and so Jersey felt it would be best to go through him. There were usually one or two others around, so he might be able to get in, get some info, and get out without to much trouble.
Jersey pulled into the parking lot and stared at the neon sign above the bar. “Walkers Bar” he felt, was a little on the nose. He pulled his big frame out of his little car and stalked into the bar. It was early, barely ten in the morning, but the bar still had a few loyal patrons. Elderly gentleman wearing cowboy hats and leather boots. Drinking away the rest of their life. Behind the bar is Gerald, who stops polishing a glass at the sight of me and glances to someone at the bar. Another skinwalker most likely, and definitely a bouncer by the “Security” he reads on the mans shirt as he is approached, holding a hand out to stop Jersey.
“Really Gerald?” Jersey asks, looking past the bouncer, but stopping anyway, letting the man pat him down.
Gerald says nothing until the bouncer gives the all clear.
“One can’t be too careful Jersey. Not right now.“ He gives me a hard look before continuing. “What are you here for Jersey?”
The bouncer moves past me wordlessly and walks towards the front door as Jersey move to the bar.
“I’m just looking for answers. Have you heard about the murders? We got two now, looks like the same thing did it.”
There was another man at the bar that Jersey didn’t recognize who was nursing a drink and watching the TV who decided to pipe in then. His voice was throaty, and he spoke his words slow and deliberately.
“You think it was us?”
Jersey looked from the man, dressed in jeans, a button up white shirt, tanned leather jacket and cowboy hat. He was an older man, Navajo indian and Skinwalker, Jersey assumed, by his jumping into the conversation and his appearance.
“Not necessarily...” Jersey said turning from the newcomer to Gerald. Gerald just grinned. Jersey turned back to the man. “The victims have several clues to different species. Just trying to see if anyone from those…” Jersey raises his hands and makes air quotes “...’tribes’ have any information they can provide. We got bites like a vamp. Tears like a werewolf, and the organs have been taken like a skinwalker.”
Both Gerald and the newcomer raise their eyebrows and grimace.
“Are you serious boy?” asks the newcomer incredulously.
“Yeah, seriously. We’re trying to figure out who did it before anymore are killed. So if you know anyone with a sudden increase of organs in their fridge I’d like a name.”
The newcomer had been taking a drink of his beer when he almost choked, turning an angry eye on Jersey. All the hair on Jersey stood on end, the man looked ready to fight and Jersey could sense he was dangerous. That didn’t keep him from looking confused by the man’s sudden animosity.
“Jersey! I expect racist shit from Nathan, not from you man!” Gerald was starting to look pissed too. This confused Jersey as well. He wasn’t being racist, he wasn’t calling them drunks, or injuns or nothing!
“What are you talking about?”
Jersey’s complete confusion made the newcomer harumph and turn away. “We don’t take organs Jersey. Why would we need them?”
“Don’t you need organs to make ancient elixirs and the like?”
Gerald and the newcomer blinked once, twice, and then exploded into laughter.
“Son, who told you any of this?” asked the newcomer.
“What? You don’t need organs?” Jersey asked a little concerned and questioning himself. Was everything he was taught as a boy racist propaganda? Nathan had confirmed these on several occasions, but he didn’t think…
“Well gentlemen. I see I have been misinformed and in a way that has put me in a negative view.” jersey said standing stiffly, and speaking as cordial as possible. “I apologize and will leave you to your drinks. Thank you for your time.”
Gerald laughed and the newcomer grinned and nodded to gerald before turning back to the TV he had been watching when Jersey had entered. Gerald nodded back and motioned for Jersey to return to his seat. Jersey stood still but didn’t sit back down.
“It’s alright, just, you know, if you hear something from Nathan it’s not right, more than likely. Sorry, but we don’t know anything about these murders. If we hear anything we’ll let you know alright?”
Jersey nodded and stalked out the bar. It was ten thirty and already Jersey desperately wanted a beer and to wring Nathans neck. He strode out of the bar and squeezed into his little car before pulling out his phone and dialing Erica back.
“Jersey.”
“Erica.”
“What did you find?”
“Nothing, like I thought. You were right though, if I had been there I should have been able to track him. Another thing I need to talk to him about.” he growled.
“Damn it, we can’t let these murders continue and cast the vampire and werewolf communities in a bad light. It could be either one of us. The more that I think about what you said there is a chance it could be the Skinwalkers. Have you spoken to them yet?”
Jersey sighed. “Yeah, but they aren’t a part of this. They don’t collect organs after all.”
“Yeah, I know. Everyone knows that.”
“Well I didn’t!” Jersey responded sounding hurt. “Made myself look like a racist fool.”
“Well suck it up, I meant they could be setting it up to breed doubt between our two communities, taking organs to throw the racist buddy cop duo off their trail by playing you like fools. I don’t know, but dismiss the possibility of it being them yet.”
Jersey thought about it and it did kind of make sense. He’d have to mention it to Nathan when he was pounding his head in tonight. “Alright, I will keep you updated.”
“Watch out for Nathan, I like the guy well enough, but not enough to trust him. I’d stick with him as long as you can tonight.”
“I’m not staying out until sunrise.” Jersey said with no uncertainty. He needed his sleep.
“Getting too old?” Erica chidded.
Jersey grimaced and then sighed loudly again. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“Bye Jersey.”
Jersey hung up the phone with another grimace and while it was only 10:45 he decided he was going to have a big bloody steak, a plate of fries, about three beers, and then he was going to go home and sleep until he had to beat up Nathan.
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Noon - Somewhere In Town
He didn’t know what was happening to him. His hunger was insatiable. He wasn’t even bothering to cook anymore, just ripping open bag after bag of his precious organs and digging in. He could hear the sound of drums again, and chanting. He sat in his apartment, half naked, covered in blood and viscera.
“I need more…” he moaned as he dropped the last ziploc, his stomach distended full of the raw meat. His chest hurt, his vision was blurry, but he craved more. He moved to stand, placing both hands on the edge of the leather chair he sat in. It was slick and he slipped backwards. The force of his fall coupled with momentum sent him and the chair backwards to the floor and he lay crumpled on the floor now, the drums sounding as if they were being played inside his head now as he slowly lost consciousness.
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