¤§Contaminated FD

Arthur and Alfred~

It was late October and the leaves were running across the ground in a flurried dance as Alfred made his way into the Social 13 a hotel that strictly hosted balls and social gatherings. A place where distant sobbing shouldn't be heard from as Arthur quickly jogged over to Alfred as the automatic doors opened. The doors led into a grand, red, ballroom, circular in shape. Directly opposite the doors of the room was an elevator, however there was little need for one as the room was length wise a cylinder; which had a fairly large ramp on the edge of the circular ballroom in width, spiraling upwards as make shift stairs which people could still freely socialize on, without being too steep. The walls had once been a beautiful beige colour with checkered marbled floors of white and tan brown. However, that was not the image he truly saw. Instead he observed red walls, and the spiraled ramp looking like a slip n' slide.

"Whoever did this took their time to paint, huh?"

"Now isn't the time to be tasteless and inconsiderate, with your unpleasant jests. But, yes it would acquire a decent amount of time to drain enough of blood to cover the hotel, I do not believe this is equivalent to all the deceased's blood any who, even if they managed to drain every drop of it from the deceased they'd be considerably short for what is spread here." Arthur preached, pursing his lips disapprovingly.

"Inspector Jones, Sir. May I have a word?" A NYPD officer called out. Nodding his consent, Alfred signals Arthur to pause for a moment and take a look around.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Sir, it would seem they've been locked from the outside, for approximately 48 hours with no way of communicating to the outside world, as all the communication services are down. They would have been longer in there longer if some of the family members who had stayed at home didn't start to worry why they didn't come home the second night," He stated.

"Woah, whoah, whoah, what about managers or other employees, to leave the hotel staff without a checkup for two days, does that not break some kind of employment rule on managing?

"Well, not really Sir. It's normal for a hotel like this to have a meeting, ball, or 'social gathering' for more than a day." Air quotations popped up. No need to figure out what that meant. "So…. Anyway the chief has informed me to tell you to not be as brash, the victims are very sensitive about what is going on around them."

"Tell the man I'll do my best!" Alfred gleamed, and made his way back over to Arthur to continue their observations.

As they continued to walk around the bodies Arthur suddenly stumbled back when a hysterical woman sluggishly lifted herself from the floor that was previously thought to have been deceased, throwing herself at Arthur, who was clearly caught off guard. "Christ, you looked dead!" Alfred said loudly, wincing slightly and glancing away from the women partially attached to Arthur, back towards the police officer who gave him a disapproving look. 'Well, I did say I'd try…'

Arthur helped the bureaucrat off the floor lifting the young woman's arm around his neck, assisting her to the paramedics after giving Alfred one final dirty look. Trying to stifle cries of pain as she limps across the floor, Arthurs arm around her waist in return, she was looking unusually pale herself, but that wasn't that uncommon from what she just witnessed. Ugh, this is starting to remind me of that new horror movie that came out last week I had gone to see, minus the fancy hotel and the survivors of course.

Looking around you could see the chandelier tottering on its side dangerously, copious amounts of blood staining the walls, and animate beings that shook, shivered, and shuddered from trauma. "Watch out for the chandelier it doesn't look stable." Alfred hollered to the NYPD as they hustled in lining the place with police tape. Bending down, Alfred slowly moved his fingers through the blood rubbing his fore fingers together, feeling the thickness of the blood, pain flaring up on his thumb, he shook his hand cursing. Taking a closer look he noticed a sliver of glass wedged firmly in the middle of his thumb. Alfred waved an officer over, "take a sample of the blood; I think there are shards of glass in it, it may be their MO."

"So Serin's on the move again, I presume," A light British accent said from behind, Alfred looked up at his stoic partner, who had once again composed himself.

The crime rate had spiraled over the last several years as Italy and Spain's mafia established a truce, which established them the title as 2nd most influential and dangerous underground faction, Serin. Their truce was mainly to deal with them both having a common goal in defeating Russia's 'mafia', which could not truly be called a underground mafia, since it operated right in front of the world, working as bodyguards, loan services, and privet airlines. A corporation called RusCorp; however was not to be trusted just because they were open to the public about their 'accidents', for even if it wasn't public they still couldn't find enough of that essential proof to have them condemned.

"I had thought so too at first, until I noticed the shards of glass in the blood. Besides I don't see how they could have pulled something like this, this has no motive in their previous activities. It's definitely not RusCorp; as they always love to have their name on their projects."

" I'm agreeing it isn't RusCorp, but open those stupid eyes, I can see many reasons that they would want this, of course it's a tad risky and flashy but there were many high acting bureaucrats at this ball." Arthur parried. "Many of the high ranking officials here are from Russia, and some are in the RusCorp. If Serin actually managed to pull this off, they've effectively disabled all the bureaucrats by murdering their friends and family right in front of their eyes, I do not believe anyone will walk away from this without some serious therapy. As for how they managed to pull it off, eludes even me.

"Wha-what? There all... All the high end officials... There all alive?" Alfred splutters.

"For being the top investigator, you sure are a stewpid bloke, use your eyes more."

Alfred started to breathe heavier; Arthur was getting a little worried for the man.

Analyzing the effects of the remaining remnants of the crime scene, and looking quite pissed off, partly because Arthur did provoke him, but mainly for the tragedy lying around them, that was slowly getting inspected, catalogued, and cleaned. It couldn't stay like this forever, the sooner they got it cleaned the sooner the public could push it the back of their minds and move on, regrettably the victims might not be able to do so as easily, if not ever.

"Did you know they were lying in this place for two days?" Alfred stated in a monotone voice.

"No." He said solemnly.

"So much for recovery" said flying mint bunny.

Slightly turning and walking a few steps away to face Flying Mint Bunny, a spirit, Arthur quickly whispered in a strict tone that was necessary "Go away, now is not the time. I know you want to help, but later, okay?" Arthur said the last more soothingly. Flying Mint Bunny shook its head and flew off to look for more evidence. Sigh. Flying Mint Bunny is going through a rebellion stage, no longer listening like the other friends I have, always wanting to play detective.

"You say something, brah." Alfred hollered over, making the little boy no more ten jump in fright, who he was trying to help up, but ended up more carrying instead.

"N-nope." Squeaked Arthur, worried that Alfred would catch him talking to his friends again and really think he'd fallen off his rocker.

Luckily the distressing topic was pushed aside for the time being, Alfred obviously put it out of his mind to focus more thoroughly on the task of moving the victims out of the building and safely to the paramedics.

Getting back to the matter at hand Arthur was just as shaken up as Alfred, when he thought about it. This was definitively the most strategic slaughter he had ever seen fully executed; no wonder the git was so peeved. 'It must have been torture for them to sit here with their dead or dying loved ones, trapped in this hotel painted red. Even I'm starting to get a little nauseous...'

"I can't find anything else." A shadow passed over Arthur as he looked up at a scowling Alfred.

"I'm sure the others have found something or other, just keep your top on."

"I will, don't be a douche canoe," Alfred said, sucking on his thumb.

"You are displaying infantile behaviour Alfred, do you require a bandage." Arthur said smugly.

Alfred~

Turns out the glass in the blood was a new chemical, more specifically a virus. They had determined it as a new virus by its composition and thinking just a little dark 'They did have quite a few test subjects', now that he really thought about it. But not much else could be determined from the fact that they had no idea what its base form was and where it originated ingredients wise. Of course since like the idiots they were, they cleaned up the crime scene after what they had believed was enough evidence. Apparently forensics had taken out the shards of glass out of the blood to study them and the DNA. However after a minute they dissolved into water, any specific chemicals and compounds they could have known from the glass got cancelled out. Unfortunately for the hotel guests, no, like he felt really bad for them, they were dying and it put him at unease inside that he wasn't doing all he could at the moment to help them. From what forensics could guess was that once the glass crystal hit your skin it would start to melt if no liquids are in contact, AKA. Blood. So once it dried…. The crystal would melt? And end up killing the person, but if it wasn't in contact with skin it wouldn't work, and once the liquid was dry it would just turn to water.

God did Alfred have a headache. And it was all Arthurs fucking fault that he was stuck in quarantine, telling them that I got pricked with the glass. 'I took it out! At least I'll get out in another.' Alfred glanced at the clock. '5 hours 14 minutes and some seconds.'

However in the meantime not wanting to do nothing, to be useless and meaningless, he would take matters into his own hands because Alfred F. Jones was a hero. And heroes didn't stand around doing nothing. Metaphorically speaking that is. Pulling out his phone from his bag Alfred flipped it open, dialing a number he never really forgot. Calling his lil bro, and now that he had time to sort through everything, he remembered that Mattie was taking a university course of virology. He could help with the case, even better was that he was on break, well, that's what he said last week. This will probably get him extra credit or something!

Matthew~

Ring, ring, ring. Matthew hurriedly set down his coffee, scrambling for his phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mark! I have a proposition for you." Alfred, probably the most annoying brother in the world just broke Matthews's eardrum. He got too excited about meaningless nonsense.

"Alfred, last time you said something like this I flew all the way out to America for your graduation ceremony out of the police academy. Which by the way was months away, you actually flew me out for your friend's wedding." Matthew picking up his coffee walked out of the café walking back to the apartment just down the block, the one he'd be staying in.

"Markus, I'm not kidding around this time, I need your expertise on a new virus that's been used in one of the cases I'm on."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing that I'm already here, huh?" Matthew took a sip of his coffee, looking up at his brother's apartment.