Post by Maverick on Aug 13, 2022 19:34:52 GMT
Zip.
It was one of many bodies which were gathered upon this terrible night in the Millenium City Amateur Musical Competition. Many bodies were disfigured practically beyond recognition. The creatures which committed such acts were in similar shape, with their remains often gorily scattered around the areas of their demises. But one of the bodies which remained ironically the most preserved belonged to the one who had been deemed responsible for this. The self proclaimed Silver Haired Witch. But there was at least one hero had taken to recalling the events of the night and mentioning a name that had but confirmed the ancient vampire's suspicions.
One Radeka M. Petiot. The Heroes had left with the her attack repelled and the battle now at an end. They had defended. And now it he who would attempt to search and destroy.
He watched as among all the bodies gathered within the closed off park, hers was placed within another bag. Of all the corpses, hers would be the one in which autopsy was demanded the most. After all -- they'd want all the information that could be discerned from the carelessly abandoned corpse. The local authorities would work tirelessly to scrutinize each and every detail of the scene left behind by the terrible battle, the body of the villain of was whisked away.
And from the shadows, The Bloodhound would follow. As the vehicle roamed the streets -- a shadow-like figure would seem to dart along through the alleyways and slip into the sewers. Remaining naught but a flicker as the vehicle drove through the city streets.
The pitter patter of a fingers of a keyboard. And the cutting of flesh.
The Coroner supervised the Pathologist the last of "Radeka's" organs had been placed on a silver tray. A Y shaped incision had been carved in her midsection as her corpse laid on the table. Septimus could yet hear their voices as they spoke and he watched them from a place as of yet unseen. An external examination of her body had been made and they'd ensued that the cause was indeed as it had appeared. Radeka had been shot in the head with a common 9 millimeter.
But their objective was discern not only cause of death what Radeka's was to discern basic facts such as species. Fundamentally, it was called into question as to whether or not Radeka was human first and foremost. And then as to whether or not she was metahuman or outright something else. It was a small part of the effort of the public to construct some measure of an identity for her. And how exactly at least this body had been killed and what it, was a large part of it.
All things considered, it had been conducted in a relatively quick two hours. The cause of death itself wasn't too difficult to discover. The pathologist was the first to leave the room. And the Pathologist followed soon after, the typed of report. The body was stored in a cabinet and the innards refrigerated.
Creek.
One of the doors to the Morgue Cabinets opened. Two gloved hands came from the darkness and pulled. And indeed upon the tray was a dead man, but he was one who moved. He slid off the tray. And walked over to one of the cabinets which helled the body of the witch. The cabinet was opened. The beg unzipped. And Septimus would gaze upon her cold flesh with an expression as dead as he appeared. His icy blue eyes began at her face. And then trailed down her body and to her innards.
His jaw had opened wide. And from his crept out a tendril. His appetite had been far from wetted, as his was the type to desire the blood of the living. It's contents sat upon his tongue as he drew it in. And the vague presence of the supernatural could be discerned in ways most forms of modern day science could not. He could discern the presence of magic, but only of that which he knew. For the sea of possible supernatural forces was so vast that not even he could glean specifics. Not when even he had only encountered so much. A part of him wondered if there was a magical influence outside of Radeka's own however. Something that had possessed her, and compelled her to do that which she had done. But the most important fact -- was that the scent had filled his nostrils.
He then walked over to the computer where the Coroner had sat. He picked the freshly printed report. And sifted through the papers swiftly, his eyes reading and processing that which he had seen.
What is it that happened to you, Radeka?
The door had opened as the two re-entered the room casually, Coronor. Everything was at it was in the room. Radeka's body lay neatly in a zipped up bag, stored in a cabinet so as not to decompose. The Report sat where it had been made on the printer. All that was left for them on this night was admin and the awaiting of other results from the lab.
The vampire walked through the streets of Millenium with his head hung low and a hoodie over his head as though this were a chilly night. Unnatural darkness shrouded the majority of his face, save from his pale white mouth and chin. The man showed little skin clad in trench coat and gloves. And he appeared unarmed to the untrained eye. And he maneuvered through the crowd as if he was looking right in front of himself -- returning to the scene of the battle previous.
Does it even matter?
It was one of many bodies which were gathered upon this terrible night in the Millenium City Amateur Musical Competition. Many bodies were disfigured practically beyond recognition. The creatures which committed such acts were in similar shape, with their remains often gorily scattered around the areas of their demises. But one of the bodies which remained ironically the most preserved belonged to the one who had been deemed responsible for this. The self proclaimed Silver Haired Witch. But there was at least one hero had taken to recalling the events of the night and mentioning a name that had but confirmed the ancient vampire's suspicions.
One Radeka M. Petiot. The Heroes had left with the her attack repelled and the battle now at an end. They had defended. And now it he who would attempt to search and destroy.
He watched as among all the bodies gathered within the closed off park, hers was placed within another bag. Of all the corpses, hers would be the one in which autopsy was demanded the most. After all -- they'd want all the information that could be discerned from the carelessly abandoned corpse. The local authorities would work tirelessly to scrutinize each and every detail of the scene left behind by the terrible battle, the body of the villain of was whisked away.
And from the shadows, The Bloodhound would follow. As the vehicle roamed the streets -- a shadow-like figure would seem to dart along through the alleyways and slip into the sewers. Remaining naught but a flicker as the vehicle drove through the city streets.
The pitter patter of a fingers of a keyboard. And the cutting of flesh.
The Coroner supervised the Pathologist the last of "Radeka's" organs had been placed on a silver tray. A Y shaped incision had been carved in her midsection as her corpse laid on the table. Septimus could yet hear their voices as they spoke and he watched them from a place as of yet unseen. An external examination of her body had been made and they'd ensued that the cause was indeed as it had appeared. Radeka had been shot in the head with a common 9 millimeter.
But their objective was discern not only cause of death what Radeka's was to discern basic facts such as species. Fundamentally, it was called into question as to whether or not Radeka was human first and foremost. And then as to whether or not she was metahuman or outright something else. It was a small part of the effort of the public to construct some measure of an identity for her. And how exactly at least this body had been killed and what it, was a large part of it.
All things considered, it had been conducted in a relatively quick two hours. The cause of death itself wasn't too difficult to discover. The pathologist was the first to leave the room. And the Pathologist followed soon after, the typed of report. The body was stored in a cabinet and the innards refrigerated.
Creek.
One of the doors to the Morgue Cabinets opened. Two gloved hands came from the darkness and pulled. And indeed upon the tray was a dead man, but he was one who moved. He slid off the tray. And walked over to one of the cabinets which helled the body of the witch. The cabinet was opened. The beg unzipped. And Septimus would gaze upon her cold flesh with an expression as dead as he appeared. His icy blue eyes began at her face. And then trailed down her body and to her innards.
His jaw had opened wide. And from his crept out a tendril. His appetite had been far from wetted, as his was the type to desire the blood of the living. It's contents sat upon his tongue as he drew it in. And the vague presence of the supernatural could be discerned in ways most forms of modern day science could not. He could discern the presence of magic, but only of that which he knew. For the sea of possible supernatural forces was so vast that not even he could glean specifics. Not when even he had only encountered so much. A part of him wondered if there was a magical influence outside of Radeka's own however. Something that had possessed her, and compelled her to do that which she had done. But the most important fact -- was that the scent had filled his nostrils.
He then walked over to the computer where the Coroner had sat. He picked the freshly printed report. And sifted through the papers swiftly, his eyes reading and processing that which he had seen.
What is it that happened to you, Radeka?
The door had opened as the two re-entered the room casually, Coronor. Everything was at it was in the room. Radeka's body lay neatly in a zipped up bag, stored in a cabinet so as not to decompose. The Report sat where it had been made on the printer. All that was left for them on this night was admin and the awaiting of other results from the lab.
The vampire walked through the streets of Millenium with his head hung low and a hoodie over his head as though this were a chilly night. Unnatural darkness shrouded the majority of his face, save from his pale white mouth and chin. The man showed little skin clad in trench coat and gloves. And he appeared unarmed to the untrained eye. And he maneuvered through the crowd as if he was looking right in front of himself -- returning to the scene of the battle previous.
Does it even matter?