Author's Note: Here we go, a new story! I enjoyed writing the other one so much that I thought I'd do another! Plus I really miss this show. This story will take place after 1x13, but it's not necessarily a sequel to my previous Constantine fanfic. Enjoy!
It felt good to be back in art class. Zed smiled to herself as she sat in front of the large white canvas, her pencil flowing smoothly across the paper. She occasionally looked up to study the assortment of fruits on the table at the front of the room, then returned her focus to the charcoal sketch taking form in front of her. She enjoyed these rare occasions when she was able to go into town and attend an art class like a normal person. Although the mill house felt like home to her now, it was nice to forget about the world of monsters and demons that seemed to have become a routine part of her life, even if it was only for a few hours. It was comical even, she noted to herself with a smirk, that she could be sketching something as mundane as pears and grapes next to a teapot when she was so used to much darker subjects.
The rising darkness was always at the back of her mind, an intruding thought that occasionally came to the forefront of her consciousness. But it had been a while now since she, John, and Chas had had to deal with something otherworldly. She grinned to herself and leaned closer to her easel as she recalled John's stir-crazy attitude throughout the last few days. Just the other night, he had wanted to go out to some random cemetery in the hopes of finding a wayward spirit to send back to the other side. But Chas had quickly shot that idea down, insisting that trouble would likely find them soon enough. And Zed knew he was probably right.
She had become so absorbed in her wandering thoughts that she didn't notice the pair of eyes peering over her shoulder.
"That's amazing!" A voice spoke suddenly.
Zed spun around to see a redheaded girl admiring her work, her eyes open wide in wonder. "I wish I could draw like that," the girl continued, finally peeling her eyes away from the canvas to smile at Zed.
"Thank you," Zed replied with a shy smile. It wasn't often that she received recognition for her artistic talent—her usual pieces were too dark and macabre to share with anyone, save John and Chas.
The redheaded girl gazed at Zed's sketch a moment longer before returning to her own canvas. Zed smiled to herself, then turned to look back at her charcoal sketch. As she lifted her pencil to continue shading one side of a pear, a spot of red near the top corner of the canvas caught her eye. At first glance it might have been a drop of paint, but as she examined it closer, the droplet began to look a lot more like blood.
Alarmed, Zed glanced around the small classroom. Everyone else was calmly working on their own sketches, heads bent in concentration and hands moving fluidly across paper. The redhead who had complimented her work sat next to her, squinting in concentration at the fruit display at the front of the room. Zed blinked a few times, then turned to look back at her own sketch. She nearly fell off of her stool in shock.
The red droplet wasn't a droplet anymore—it was now a thick splatter of dark red that covered nearly the entire canvas, dripping slowly to the bottom edge. For a moment, she just sat there in shock, not knowing what to do. She blinked again and shook her head, hoping the blood would disappear. But the dark splatter just seemed to grow larger as it continued to ooze down the stark white paper. Zed hopped up and snatched the canvas off the easel, then gathered up her satchel sitting by her feet.
"Are you okay?" The redhead sitting next to her asked.
"Yeah, I'm—" Zed glanced over at the girl, but froze mid-sentence. Her eyes opened wide in shock as she noticed a deep gash in the girl's chest. Blood poured down her yellow t-shirt and puddled on the tile floor around her.
Zed gasped and turned away, squeezing her eyes shut to rid herself of the grotesque sight. The redhead continued to watch her, confused and slightly concerned. "Are you sure?" she asked.
But Zed didn't respond, or even look at the girl. Instead, she rushed out the door before anyone could question her further. She practically ran to her car, threw open the door, and tossed the blood-stained canvas into the passenger seat. She raced home with the gas pedal pressed to the floor. Tires screeched as she ran a stop sign and flew around a curve, earning her some angry yelling and horn blaring from passing motorists. But Zed hardly noticed—she had to get back to the mill house as fast as possible. At one point, she happened to glance at the canvas next to her. She stepped on the gas pedal even harder when she saw blood dripping off the paper and pooling in the passenger foot well.
.o.o.o.o.
"Listen, Corrigan," John said as he brought a glass of whiskey up to his lips and took a swig. "It sounds like you have a case here, I just don't think it's our kind of case." He set the empty glass down on the coffee table in front of him, and looked across the room at the homicide detective.
Jim sighed and leaned forward in his armchair, looking the exorcist in the eye with an earnest resolve. "I don't know where else to turn," he stated. "I've got four dead girls, hearts removed, and no DNA at any of the crime scenes. This case is going to go cold if I don't get some sort of lead."
John glanced over at Chas, who was leaning against the fireplace and listening to the conversation. "I think we should at least look into it, John," he said after a momentary pause. His eyes traveled down to the assortment of crime scene photographs spread out on the coffee table. "I thought you wanted to work a case, and this one looks as promising as any."
The exorcist sighed and picked up his pack of Silk Cut from the table, looking at the photographs as he lit up a cigarette. Nothing about the murders definitively pointed to a supernatural cause. A serial killer of the human variety could easily cut out and take a victim's heart. Such a person would have to be seriously twisted, but nonetheless, it could certainly happen. It was true he was eager to get to work, but for some reason, he was reluctant to jump into another case with Corrigan.
After another length of silence, the detective stood up and walked over to the table, stooping to gather up the photographs. "Just thought I'd come by and see if you guys might know what's going on here." He slipped the pictures back into their folder and turned to look at John. "Thanks for taking a look, at least."
John opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of the door upstairs flying open and banging against the wall made him stop. There was the pounding of footsteps on the iron staircase as Zed entered the great room, breathless and wide-eyed.
"What is it?" John asked as he stood up from the sofa and walked over to her. He watched as she took a moment to catch her breath, taking in the fearful expression on her face. Zed didn't scare easily, so he knew she must have seen something serious.
Once she had collected herself, Zed slowly turned over the canvas in her hands so that John could see the blood. "What does this mean?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
John peered at the charcoal drawing in her hands, and cocked his head to the side. "Are we out of pears? Chas can run to the store, love."
"No! There's—" She turned the canvas over to look at it herself. The blood was gone. The charcoal sketch of the fruit display was there, untainted, just as she had drawn it. She looked back at John, the fear still evident in her expression. "There was blood all over this canvas, John," she insisted, looking back down at the canvas. "I saw it."
Corrigan came forward then, his brows furrowed in concern. "You had a vision?" he asked quietly.
Zed stared down at the sketch, still confused. "I—I guess so," she replied. The blood had seemed so real, and it had been there the entire time she was driving back to the mill house. She was sure of it. Now it was suddenly gone? It must have been a vision, but usually she knew when she was having one. This had seemed too real.
John sighed and took the canvas out of Zed's hands, setting off to the side. "Did you see anything else?" he asked quietly, as she stared ahead with a distant expression.
Zed blinked and then looked at John. "The girl next to me, she—" Zed paused a moment as she recalled the gruesome sight. "She was covered in blood. Her chest was sliced wide open."
John and Corrigan exchanged a glance. "Coincidence?" the detective asked.
"Told you," said Chas from where he was leaning by the fireplace. He pushed off the wall with his shoulder and headed in the direction of the hallway. "I'll start packing."
The exorcist sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then looked off to the side. He was quiet for a moment, deep in contemplation.
Zed meanwhile looked back and forth between John and the detective, and wondered suddenly why Jim was there in the first place. She hadn't seen him since the case in New Orleans involving the missing girls, and so she figured he must be back asking for their help again on another case. She also recalled the visions she'd had of Jim's death, which put her on edge.
But as Zed looked at Corrigan, she didn't see him covered in blood. For the moment, she noted with relief, the visions of him dying a gruesome death weren't coming to her. She felt relaxed and somewhat relieved to see her visions hadn't come true—at least not yet.
"It's good to see you, Zed," Corrgian spoke suddenly, offering her a gentle smile. He must have noticed her watching him.
She smiled back. "Yeah, you too." It was the truth, after all. She was glad to see him alive and well. But she also noted the familiar glint in his eyes, reminding her of the night at the bar when they had shared a kiss. Though Jim was a good friend, she couldn't bring herself to see him as anything more than that. And knowing that he was hoping for something more only made her uneasy.
"What brings you here?" Zed asked suddenly, hoping to steer the focus towards the case at hand.
Corrigan's calm gaze suddenly became very serious. "I've got four homicides. All young women, all with the hearts removed."
Zed's eyes grew wide and she looked over at John. "We need to go."
The exorcist's gaze was stern as he glanced back and forth between Zed and Corrigan. This was why he had been reluctant to take on the case. That look in Corrigan's eyes irritated him. The thing he seemed to have going on with Zed bothered him even more. And John wasn't sure why it bothered him—it was really none of his business. Still, jumping into another case with the homicide detective wasn't exactly what he wanted to do.
"Let's hunt down this heart-thieving bastard," John said after a slight pause. He would have to suck it up and work with Corrigan. At least until the case was solved.