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Challenges listed at the bottom.
Word Count - 1573
Wings Painted In Blood
He watches from the shadows as they swarm the house, the police vehicles parked outside, their lights flashing ominously. He enjoys this, the watching. It's almost as good as the doing, especially when they're all chasing their tails in an effort to catch him.
They won't.
He's five steps ahead and laughing all the way.
…
She woke with a start, her head flying up when she heard a gentle laugh.
"Sorry, but I really had to wake you," Kingsley said apologetically. "He's done it again."
Amelia cursed softly but nodded to Kingsley. "Give me a couple of minutes and we'll head to the scene."
Kingsley nodded, and then tapped his cheek. "You've got a bit of ink just…"
She looked down at the paper and realised the ink on the page had smeared. She cursed again. "Two minutes."
He left the office, closing the door behind him with a soft snick.
Amelia cleaned her face with wipes from her desk and then rubbed at her eyes. She tied her hair back into a neat ponytail.
When she'd been a young officer, mostly dealing with petty theft and the occasional junkie, she'd dreamed of hitting the big leagues, of dealing with the murder cases and the high profile cases. She'd been so ambitious.
She regretted that now.
If she could go back and speak to her younger self, she'd tell her to just not. Because the murder cases were the worst.
Especially the serial murders.
Checking a mirror quickly to make sure that she was presentable, Amelia stood up and smoothed the creases from her trousers. It was time to go and be Detective Bones.
…
The scene was different. Amelia looked around it with a critical eye. She wasn't quite sure what about it didn't seem quite… right, but it was messier than usual, that was for certain.
"Was the killer interrupted?" she asked one of the nearby officers who'd been first on scene.
"Not that we know of, Ma'am. She was found by her nephew."
Amelia nodded. "Thank you," she replied, her voice curt.
"Amelia?" Kingsley called. "Come and look at this!"
Amelia moved into the hallway, eyes widening when she took in the bloody sword. That was… also different. From the previous scenes, it had been determined that their killer was using a serrated knife with a relatively small blade.
"Something seems off about this, Shack," she murmured, crouching beside him to get a closer look at the sword. "It doesn't quite match the previous murder scenes."
"Maybe he's devolving?"
Amelia sighed. "Maybe."
…
The print on the sword got a match. As much as it still wasn't sitting right with Amelia, she went with Shacklebolt for the arrest.
If he was the Angel Killer, she was more than ready for this confrontation.
She hadn't intended to grapple with the man they were arresting, but he resisted and she wound up with a bloody lip and a man beneath her knee, his face pressed into the floor.
"Cuff him and read him his miranda," she ordered, using a tissue from a junior officer to step the bleeding on her lip.
"You okay?" Shacklebolt asked afterwards, when he'd hauled their suspect to his feet.
Amelia snorted. "Fine. Take more than him to take me out."
"Yeah it would," Kingsley agreed proudly. "Let's get him back to the station, eh?"
She nodded and gestured for him to lead the way, still patting lightly at her lip.
Asshole.
…
"Barty Crouch Jr," Amelia read from the file. "Unstable since he was eighteen, and he's just claimed all of the killings."
Kingsley nodded. "Yep. Something seem off to you?"
Amelia nodded. "Yes. But CPS isn't going to give us a choice with this. They're going to want him charged with all the murders and a press release given immediately. You know it as well as I do."
Rolling his eyes, Kingsley nodded. "You're right. We've all been under pressure with this one. And maybe it was Crouch who did it."
With a sigh, Amelia shrugged. "I guess we'll find out."
…
A copycat. How… quaint.
He didn't know how he felt about that, but it certainly was useful. But…
He wanted her to know.
She was angel material after all with her ivory skin and perfect bone structure. It would be a shame to waste that…
…
Amelia walked into the bar, more than ready for a drink. It had been a seriously long day and she was ready to unwind.
"There she is, karate kid!" John called, raising a glass to her before passing her a full one from the bar.
"Can it, John," she muttered, taking the drink with an appreciative smile.
"Oh, baby, you know you're irresistible to me when you tell me off like that," he replied, winking at her.
She rolled her eyes. "You're disgusting."
"And you're… incandescent!"
"Do you even know what that means?"
"Well. Erm. I."
She laughed as the others did and John pouted at her.
"I bet you're glad to see an end to 'The Angel Killer Case'," another officer said when the laughter died down.
Kingsley, seated beside her, nodded and smiled but Amelia just bit her bottom lip and shrugged. She didn't really think it was over, neither of them did, but for the moment, it wasn't for them to speculate.
CPS certainly didn't think so, anyway.
Amelia stayed for two drinks, but shook her head when offered the third. "I'm just going to go home and relax. It's been a long few months."
Kingsley nodded. "Want me to walk you home?"
She grinned at him. "I'm a big girl, Shack. I'll be fine. See you tomorrow?"
"You betcha."
…
She walked home slowly, carefully stepping around puddles. It had been pouring rain all day and the evidence was threatening to soak her feet if she wasn't careful.
No matter what she'd said to Kingsley, she couldn't help but be extra vigilant on her way home. She felt like she was being watched, her paranoia a result of a long case she was sure.
She dismissed the feeling and let herself into her silent house, locking up as soon as she shut the door.
She took a long bath, enjoying the soothing water on her aching muscles and then donned her favourite pyjamas and pink dressing gown.
The house was cold, so she lit the fire, and grabbed a blanket. With a glass of red, and a book she'd been meaning to read for weeks, she settled down in her favourite armchair.
This was just what she needed.
…
The lock was ridiculously easy to pick. He shook his head. You'd think that the police would be better at home security.
She was asleep in an armchair, a blanket tucked over her. He almost didn't want to disturb her, but time was pressing on.
He knew he wouldn't be able to linger here the way he had before. He wouldn't be able to carve into her skin, wouldn't be able to pain wings around her the way he had with the others.
Barty Crouch Jr had done him the favour of time if nothing else, and he didn't want to alert the police to his continued freedom just yet.
"Amelia," he murmured, his voice crooning and soft. She blinked awake slowly, and he leant by the fire.
He didn't have much time, but for this… for this, he would make time.
…
Amelia stared at the man by her fire. How the hell had he even got in, and why was he there? Questions flew threw her mind quicker than she could keep up with in her sleep addled state.
Her attention was drawn to the knife on his belt.
Small blade. Serrated edge.
On his neck, a tattoo; angel wings.
She'd known, hadn't she.
Amelia could tell by the gleam in his eyes that he knew she knew exactly who he was. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small handgun.
Amelia frowned. He'd never used a gun before.
"Can't let them know yet, can we?" he mocked, waving the gun at her. "Though… you would make a beautiful angel, Detective Bones."
"Why… why are you doing this?" she asked, trying to distract him. Just a little ways away she had a panic button, but there was no way would she be able to reach in time.
"Because you doubted," he murmured. "I watched you, Detective. You knew little Barty was a copycat, and I can't afford to have you on my tail."
"You don't… you don't need to do this," she told him, her voice calm even as fear prickled on her skin.
"No," he agreed. "I don't. But… I want to, and isn't that why we do anything? Because we want to?"
Amelia shook her head, but he paid her no mind.
"You won't get away with this," she shouted.
His finger hesitated on the gun for a second. "Oh, my dear Amelia. I already have."
And then he pulled the trigger and Amelia knew no more.
…
It was a shame. Blood trickled from the wound in her head. What he wouldn't give to have more time, but alas.
It was time to get out of the country for a little while. Perhaps the American police would be as much fun to taunt.
Besides… he could always come back. Nobody was looking for him now, were they?
Written for;
Disney; C2. A strong female character
Book Club; Noriko; Curt / Amelia Bones / Regret
Showtime; 6. "Sorry, but I really had to wake you."
Liza Loves; 5. Someone sitting in front of the fire.
Arcade; ST1. Something going good going wrong.
Lowdown; C5. Pink
Film Festival; 28. Junkie
Around the world - 18. Irresistible
Pop Figure; Valkyrie; 1. A woman overpowering a man in a fight. 3. Incandescent. 4. Sword.
Cheese Board - Sauce; Fig Preserves; Blanket
Days; 18. Someone relaxing after a hard day.
Winter; Dressing gown
Colour; Ivory
Flowers; Hellebore; Theme - Death
Element; Puddle
Japan; Abdication; The end of something
Slytherin - Ambitious
365. 7. Confrontation
1000. 187. Theme - Murder