Aether
10-25-2005, 09:59 PM
It's a fairly cool October night. The trees just recently commencing their yearly changes, the orange leaves a reminder that Halloween was quickly approaching. You would think that the holiday would worry an investigator of the supernatural, but Matthew Crowe knew it would just be another day. As far as he knew neither ghosts nor witches came out in great numbers, no more than usual anyway.
What he had noticed, and was probably more of a worry, was that there seemed to be a slight psychological effect on Regular Joe similar to that observed on nights of the full moon. His theorized that people expected odd things and in the absence of any, compensated by behaving oddly themselves. When all was said and done the human mind was capable of things more wicked than most of the occult manifestations that Aether has seen in his career. For instance, no species of demon willingly fed candy corn to it's young.
It appeared more and more likely that the events of this week's newspaper headlines also had a human mind behind them. At last count, three of the city's children were missing. He didn't know many of the details but was fairly confident that the police had it in hand. He checked with his contacts on the PPD who said the clues pointed to a living, breathing, non-magical, non-super culprit and that the force was hot on the trail. Still, the city was enacting a curfew for all minors until a suspect was found, cutting the trick-or-treating a few hours short.
Nocturne Crossing was still holding it's annual costume party. In previous years, the Shades of Grey had encouraged families to come together to the gathering, as there was no alcohol served on those nights. Sure it wasn't exactly the hippest thing to do, but Matthew knew there were surprisingly few family events in the city during the holiday. He thought it was important for families to have things to do together in times like these, partly because he never had a family himself.
This year it would be an adult affair only. Good for the bar, but bad for the spirit. Matt enjoyed seeing the little ones, dressed up as pumpkins and Sponge Bobs, playing and scuffing up his dance floor. He hoped those missing would be found unharmed. He feared they would not. He couldn't decide on whether it was the cynic in him or the realist.
It was times like this that made him happy he had the club to put his energy into. The detective agency had been floundering a bit lately. Yeah, there were jobs to do, but so much of it was standard investigative work. They hadn't had something really juicy in a long time. He was almost positive that sooner or later that wish would come back to bite him.
For now he had to get the building ready for the Halloween bash. There was food and drinks to stock, audio equipment to get ready, and stuff to clean. Now that was scary. For one there was a rank smell coming from somewhere and Matt feared finding an expired bag of mysterious foodstuffs that now had a life of it's own. At least he could look forward to the decorations. They were the best part. Balloons to put up; skeletons to hang; occult symbols to mark up on the walls, all of which he double checked to make sure they were not, nor even closely resembled, real ones. Last year's mistake would not be forgot . . .
...That smell again. So that's where it was coming from.
He opened the door and took a glance in. He didn't much like coming in here, but he found the place empty and that was a little surprising. The odor almost knocked him down. It was familiar but, it couldn't...
Matt caught a glimpse of a raise in the floor. He walked over to it slowly and ran his fingers through a bit of the dirt in the pile. Some of it clumped together distinctively. He moved a few handfuls of the earth out of the pile until he found exactly what he was afraid of. It was small, picked clean: a bone.
Dammit!
He thought he was so careful. He put his faith in some code he didn't understand. Against his instinct he trusted the Noirbot! He was sloppy and let it continue to live with them.
Then he noticed the sack. It was big enough for... it was big enough. Ripped open on one side; dark sticky stains inside. Yes, the rips were likely made by the claws of the robot . . . but nearby there was something else, a rope tied around the end of the sack. The knot. . . it was too intricate for the machine's large fingers. Someone else had tied it. This sack had been . . . delivered. And underneath all their noses.
Someone has been FEEDING it!
What he had noticed, and was probably more of a worry, was that there seemed to be a slight psychological effect on Regular Joe similar to that observed on nights of the full moon. His theorized that people expected odd things and in the absence of any, compensated by behaving oddly themselves. When all was said and done the human mind was capable of things more wicked than most of the occult manifestations that Aether has seen in his career. For instance, no species of demon willingly fed candy corn to it's young.
It appeared more and more likely that the events of this week's newspaper headlines also had a human mind behind them. At last count, three of the city's children were missing. He didn't know many of the details but was fairly confident that the police had it in hand. He checked with his contacts on the PPD who said the clues pointed to a living, breathing, non-magical, non-super culprit and that the force was hot on the trail. Still, the city was enacting a curfew for all minors until a suspect was found, cutting the trick-or-treating a few hours short.
Nocturne Crossing was still holding it's annual costume party. In previous years, the Shades of Grey had encouraged families to come together to the gathering, as there was no alcohol served on those nights. Sure it wasn't exactly the hippest thing to do, but Matthew knew there were surprisingly few family events in the city during the holiday. He thought it was important for families to have things to do together in times like these, partly because he never had a family himself.
This year it would be an adult affair only. Good for the bar, but bad for the spirit. Matt enjoyed seeing the little ones, dressed up as pumpkins and Sponge Bobs, playing and scuffing up his dance floor. He hoped those missing would be found unharmed. He feared they would not. He couldn't decide on whether it was the cynic in him or the realist.
It was times like this that made him happy he had the club to put his energy into. The detective agency had been floundering a bit lately. Yeah, there were jobs to do, but so much of it was standard investigative work. They hadn't had something really juicy in a long time. He was almost positive that sooner or later that wish would come back to bite him.
For now he had to get the building ready for the Halloween bash. There was food and drinks to stock, audio equipment to get ready, and stuff to clean. Now that was scary. For one there was a rank smell coming from somewhere and Matt feared finding an expired bag of mysterious foodstuffs that now had a life of it's own. At least he could look forward to the decorations. They were the best part. Balloons to put up; skeletons to hang; occult symbols to mark up on the walls, all of which he double checked to make sure they were not, nor even closely resembled, real ones. Last year's mistake would not be forgot . . .
...That smell again. So that's where it was coming from.
He opened the door and took a glance in. He didn't much like coming in here, but he found the place empty and that was a little surprising. The odor almost knocked him down. It was familiar but, it couldn't...
Matt caught a glimpse of a raise in the floor. He walked over to it slowly and ran his fingers through a bit of the dirt in the pile. Some of it clumped together distinctively. He moved a few handfuls of the earth out of the pile until he found exactly what he was afraid of. It was small, picked clean: a bone.
Dammit!
He thought he was so careful. He put his faith in some code he didn't understand. Against his instinct he trusted the Noirbot! He was sloppy and let it continue to live with them.
Then he noticed the sack. It was big enough for... it was big enough. Ripped open on one side; dark sticky stains inside. Yes, the rips were likely made by the claws of the robot . . . but nearby there was something else, a rope tied around the end of the sack. The knot. . . it was too intricate for the machine's large fingers. Someone else had tied it. This sack had been . . . delivered. And underneath all their noses.
Someone has been FEEDING it!