Chapter 2: Interrogation

After I sat in the interrogation room for the last hour, I became certain the smell of stale urine permeated my own skin. I told myself to be thankful the officers didn't see the need to place me in the drunk tank where only more issues could occur. I chalked it up to a win, and kept my forehead pressed against the white plastic table in the room.

The furniture appeared sparse from what I imagined a holding room to be like. Then again, I only could recall images from the cop shows Brett made me watch in the evenings. I guessed the officers didn't want their customers in a room with an abundance of breakable objects. People created weapons out of anything when desperation kicked in.

At least the table kept my hands from view. A plastic zip still bound them together so the officers didn't need to worry about an altercation with me. They did do me a favor and retied them in the front when we arrived at the station, so that could be seen as another win.

During my time in solitary, I tried to remember if I ever met a Richard Jenkins. I didn't have much a social life to speak of since classes took the majority of any free time, less the moments I worked on my cosplay outfit. Brett made the few female friends I had run in the other direction, and guys. . . I didn't even bother.

If I met him I felt sure I would have remembered. So who the hell was this idiot who got hit by the car?

The door opened and I lifted my head to see who decided to grace me with their presence. A slender, middle aged man cleared his throat.

"Ms. Ellison, I'm Detective Mike Roark. I've been assigned to your case." The smell of his cologne wafted into the room and displaced the awful scent I'd become accustomed to in the last hour. Mike fell into the category of a well-dressed man the moment I laid eyes on him. His grey slacks and light purple shirt placed him a slot above the average officer I already encountered. The greying hair and lines on his face put him in his middle forties. "I understand you've had a pleasant evening?"

"Hmm." I hummed. My butt started to feel numb from the way I folded my legs underneath me and I took the opportunity to reposition myself in my seat. "I guess you could say something to that degree."

Mike crossed the room to take a seat at the other side of the table. He placed a manila folder down and smiled at me, trying to make the visit seem a little more pleasant.

"It was a joke, Ms. Ellison." He crossed one leg over his knee. Confidence exuded from him as if this case warranted little concern to him personally. I felt sure we both knew there were better uses for his time. "You want to tell me how you ended up here?"

"A man chased me and got hit by a car." I rested my hands on the table, still bound together by the zip tie that started to rub the skin on my wrists raw. "He had some weird outfit on and claimed I knew him." I shrugged. "Next thing I knew they were taking us both in. I tried to tell the officer at the scene I didn't know anything, but…" I wiggled my fingers. "Here I am."

"And you don't know this, Richard Jenkins?" Mike's eyebrows rose and he opened the folder up on the table. "He says you two have been married for the last few years."

I tapped my ring finger on the table. "No, not married. Not even dating." I held up my hands. "No one is putting a ring on this anytime soon. I think my brother might have an issue if I did the one night thing in Vegas and didn't tell him."

"I see. How exactly, did you come across this guy tonight?"

"I went running like I always do. It's too warm during the day, and I have classes in the morning. Sunday night there aren't too many people on my normal route and bums don't bother me for the most part."

"You don't think there is a better place for someone like you to get some exercise?"

"What does that mean?" I countered. I hated it when someone tried to play the girl card when I got in a bad situation.

"I have a daughter your age and I just can't imagine her out late at night like this. I didn't mean to offend you."

"I can handle myself." I grunted and squinted my eyes. "Apparently."

"Apparently." Mike tapped the folder a few times. "Did he do anything to make you afraid of him?"

"Not really. I figured it was better to be in view of people when a crazy person came after you. I am a girl and might not be able to take care of myself." I rolled my eyes.

Mike chuckled a bit as I snapped about the comment about being a girl again. "Witnesses said you looked concerned when he was hit. Walked over to check on him to see if he was okay after the accident."

"Yeah, I did. I didn't want him to die. He might have been a raving lunatic, but I'm not the type to wish death on people."

"That's a good thing." Mike smiled and slid the file into my view. A picture of Richard Jenkins in his armor filled the page. "Don't recognize him or what he has on?"

I stuck out my hands and used my wrists to bring it better in view. His face didn't ring a bell, but the armor did. Especially the chest plate that looked the same as the one on my bedroom floor. I tapped my finger against it.

"This looks like something from a video game." I leaned down and tilted my head. "It looks really close to the armor I have at home."

"You have armor at home?" Mike rose his eyebrows. "You mind telling me what that's for?"

I shook my head. "Not real armor. I…" I stopped. To explain to a stranger I Cosplayed on my own time seemed a little ridiculous, but the current position didn't allow me to really lie to the Detective. "It's part of a costume I'm working on. He must be doing the same thing I am."

"What did you make yours from?"

"It's a little bit of plastic, some foam, things I learned from the internet." I stuck out my bottom lip and squinted. "It's not near as good looking as this. He must have spent some cash to have it made by a professional." A tinge of jealousy entered my voice as I took in the complexity of his suit. Anyone could tell a decent amount of time had been spent on the details. It looked like it had some wear from the gouges on the left side, but it added to the authentic appearance.

"What game is this from?" Mike took a pen out from his pocket, and scooted the file back over to himself.

"Mass Effect. There's an event at the Convention Center coming up. Maybe it's something he made for that?"

"I see." Mike scribbled something under the picture of Richard and then looked up at me. "I will mention, I checked your background too, Ms. Ellison. Nothing came up as to you being married."

"Yeah, I figured something like that would stand out in a memory of some sort." I snorted. "Not that I I'm trying to rush this whole thing, but what do you need from me with regards to all this?"

"Pick a better time to get you run in?" He clicked the pen and shoved it back into his pocket. "I'll need to get an official statement from you about the events of the evening. I'll have someone come in and bring you that paperwork to fill out."

"Great. So other than that, I'm free?"

Mike stood up and closed the folder, tapping its edge a few times against the table. "I believe so. Just make yourself at home in the meantime." He reached behind him and pulled out his wallet. "I'll give you my card just in case something else comes up, or you remember anything else about Mr. Jenkins."

I extended my hands and took the card from him. "Thank you, Mike."

"Have a good evening." The moment Mike walked out the door I started to wiggle in my seat. I just needed to deal with the terrible odor and small room a little longer before I could move on with life again.

I hoped things would have moved a little faster after the visit with the detective, though it seemed that was nothing more than wishful thinking. I killed time and tried to think of how to explain the situation to Brett without him going nuts. No matter the path I took, I figured I would get the same result in the end.

At least I knew I would make it home before he made a scene. As long as I could lock myself in me room, I might end up being spared another lecture.

A loud bang outside the door caused me to jump in my seat, ending my play through how things would go with my brother. I heard plenty of that sound on the hunts with my brother to recognize the noise of small arms fire. I dashed to the door and crouched down, hoping I would remain out of sight of anyone that passed by.

Two more shots fired and I felt my heart try to beat out of my chest. How did someone get inside the station with weapons? I fidgeted with my hands to see if I could work the binding loose, but only made the skin on my wrists more irritated.

Crap.

The door flung open. I nearly caught the full impact with my face, but instincts kicked in and my hands shot up. The momentum sent me onto my butt. I kept my arms up and peeked my face around to see who chose this room to barge in on.

"Alex, we have to go." There stood Richard Jenkins. His chest heaved underneath his armor as he tried to catch his breath. "Now!" He reached down to grab my hands.

I rolled onto my back and stuck out my legs to keep the distance between us. "Hell no!" I shifted my legs side to side in an attempt to move away from him. "Get away from me!"

"There isn't time for this." He came further into the room and towered over me. "We have to go!" He again made the motion to grab me.

"Like hell!" I kicked at his knee cap with all I had, hoping the armor would give in from the odd angle of the blow. I missed and Richard grabbed my foot to pull me towards him. I screamed as loud as I could to draw attention to the room. This was a police station where people came and went all hours of the day, where were all the cops?

Richard bent over and covered my mouth with his hand. "I know you don't understand this." He pulled me to my feet. "But I'm trying to help you."

I dropped an elbow to his side and bolted for the door of the interrogation room, desperation starting to sink in. If I didn't manage to get some distance between us, who knew what Richard would do to me.

"Alex!" He grabbed a fist full of my hair and yanked me back before I managed to step a foot outside. I stumbled into him as I tried to regain my balance.

"Let go!" I squirmed as I tried to pry his fingers from my scalp. "Let me go!" I dug my nails into his knuckles and attempted to hit him square in the stomach. Richard's fingers loosened and I didn't waste the chance to go for the door.

"Alex!" I heard him call out behind me as I ran the direction of the intake station. "Alex, wait!"

Scared of the murderer I left in the room behind me, I didn't don on me to worry about what waited up ahead. I counted three shots and hadn't seen a single dead officer yet. Either they made it out alive, or Richard wasn't the cause of the commotion.

I turned the corner in hopes of seeing a friendly face.

"Ellison." A monster stood in the middle of a hallway and motioned for me to come his direction. "Where's the kid?"

"Ka." I backtracked a few steps in the other direction. No wonder the bodies of officers weren't scattered on the ground. They shot at the thing and ran.

"Alex…" Richard came up behind me and held out his hands to stop me. "You have to listen."

"It. . . You?" I flinched. The two of them were in this together. I pointed at the beast who held his gun over his shoulder. "It-"

"I take offense to that, Ellison. I don't refer to you as an it." The giant creature swaggered forward.

"Run!" I shoved Jenkins in the chest as I tried to head back in the direction I just came from. Two arms wrapped around me and pulled me back in place.

"Alex, its Wrex." Richard whispered in my ear as the drive to fight left me. "He's here to help."