A student at college insulted his ethnic background, which urged him to engage in a fight which ended in an academic probation.
This whole town sickened him; the golden city boasting of its diversity still couldn't look beyond the color of your skin, what else would matter besides the exterior anyway in this city?
He heard his aging uncle, the soon to be retired Officer Jamal, enter through the front door and call for him.
"Yes, uncle"
"Mind if you go get dinner?" his uncle said as he sat at his recliner and took off his shoes, too tired to even remove his gun.
"Sure thing."
Dr Reid, an old thin man, turned on an Ella Fitzgerald CD and then he pulled the sheet of the body of the latest victim, the Magician, who was identified as Simon Messing, a dabbler in the occult.
Angela stood eagerly awaiting the verdict. Michael stood at her side, trying not to pass out from the smell.
"Any idea about the cause of death?" asked Angela.
"Not yet, his heart was literally torn out of chest. And by that I mean someone actually managed to crack his chest open and pull the old ticker out." answered Dr Reid as he grooved to the sound of jazz which filled the morgue.
"Was that before or after he died?" asked Michael.
"You're kidding, right? There is no way he was alive when his chest was opened up forcefully with no anesthetic"
"Alright, how did he get like this"
"I'd like to say that he rotted, but that's impossible seeing as how he was seen alive a few hours before you found him, right"
"Yeah."
"I'll tell you the truth, this is uncanny, it looks like a blend of leprosy, flesh eating bacteria, internal combustion added with a good acid shower. This is one for the books. Do you think it would be okay if I wrote an article about this"
"Better ask the Captain."
Michael and Angela walked out and took a whiff of clean air.
"Off to Midnite"
"What"
"Papa Midnite's, I asked around about the guy, rumor has it he's a witch."
Angela was peeved, but she just looked the young detective in the eyes and said,
"Detective, there are more things to this case than what meets the eyes"
"Sure, I'm not complaining or anything. This case does smell like that kind of stuff, you know, magic."
"Just keep this between us, okay"
"Okay. Hey, what's the deal with those cards anyway?"
Angela's phone rang, she answered,
"Dodson"
"Good afternoon, Lieutenant."
It was him, the fortune killer.
"Hello."
She turned to Michael and said, "Do you Mind"
"Not at all." said Demiurgos as he walked off beyond an earshot.
"Still lagging behind I see"
"Why are you doing this"
"By now you surely know I'm beyond human, what's exactly am I and what is my agenda is really your guess, perhaps I'm preparing to raise an army and wipe out mankind or perhaps I'm simply entertaining myself, through creating carnage and watch you turn in circles, in an endless pursuit to catch me."
Angela could glimpse something in her mind as the killer spoke, something she couldn't really see.
"There is a new victim"
"Is there?"
The image grew a little clearer and she could see something, a woman and a man.
"No, two"
"Bravo."
The killer hung up, a sudden though occurred to Angela.
"Detective," she called after Michael, "Do you mind doing me a favor"
"No, what is it"
"I need you to get a list of my incoming calls for the past six days. Don't ask why."
Michael looked confused, but nodded and headed to his desk.
Omar crossed the street to his building, his rage boiling from the inside, again he was met with looks of disgust and bigoted whispers, a sudden sense of wrath and the desire to set fire somewhere appeared in him. It was not like him to have such ideas, he usually preferred to believe that the people of LA were good natured, and that intolerance was uncommon, he did experience such treatment in the past, but this was the first time he ever felt like that.
A squad car was parked outside; he paid it little attention and walked up the stairs with the take out food in his hands.
The door to his uncle apartment was open, two uniformed cops were arguing with his uncle, who still wore his uniform as well.
"What's going on?" asked Omar.
"They say I stole drugs from an evidence locker." said Jamal, clearly in shock.
"You're coming with us, Jamal. You have the right to remain silent..." said one of the cops as he took out a pair of handcuffs.
"What? No he didn't!" barked Omar, "My god, he's retiring in a week"
"Shut up, kid!"
"..You have the right to an attorney..."
"Like hell you're takin' 'em, let 'em go!" yelled Omar as he bolted towards his uncle, the other cop punched Omar in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.
"Towel-Head!" cursed the cop in hate.
"Hey, don't you touch him!" yelled Jamal as he head butted the cop handcuffing him and went to take down the other cop.
A punch stopped him in his tracks and took him off his balance; he staggered back through the apartment door and tripped, and rolled down the apartment door and broke his neck at the bottom.
"NOOO!" cried Omar as he ran down the stairs.
"Jesus, Chuck!" cursed the first cop, "He's dead, his neck is all broken!"
"Hey kid, better come down to the precinct with..."
Omar was too filled with rage to listen to the voice of reason; all the rage that was building up inside him culminated in pure contempt, his sanity went through the window as the urge to kill filled him. He took his uncle gun out of its holster and ran up the stairs, pushing his shoulder into the cop's torso and knocking him down, then going to attack the other cop, shooting him through the window.
"Hey, Pig!"
The other cop looked up in fear at Omar who pointed the gun barrel at him, "Drop the gun."
Chuck couldn't help but oblige, "You're never going to get away with this."
"Neither will you." answered Omar in complete rage.
"You're not going to shoot me"
"Won't I?"
Chuck knew he was far gone enough to actually do it.
"Get up, Asshole."
Michael handed Angela the call sheet and watched her look through it.
It had suddenly occurred to her to look for the killer's number, he seemed cocky enough to use his own phone, and he didn't expect her to tell anyone she was being contacted by the killer she's after.
She was surprised to find nothing at all; there was no listing of any incoming call this afternoon or late night a few days ago when the killer called her.
"Son of a Bitch."
Even after over a year of getting her powers back, she still was caught off guard by them everyone in a while. She rubbed her eyes and asked, "Any news on the Lion?"
"Still looking," answered Michael, "The tip about Simon Messing doing it was unreliable, probably the killer himself set it up to catch us off guard with another murder."
Angela couldn't help but feel powerless, waiting for news to come in about a fourth crime in which a man and a woman were killed, she already knew it would be the lovers, the sixth card of the tarot deck. She didn't even begin to fathom how she could begin to catch a supernatural killer with the ability to operate so fast, killing someone every night for the past few days, without leaving a single trace, but an image of horror and carnage he has created.
Det Libowitz walked in and said, "Did you hear"
"About what?" asked Michael.
"Murray and Stevens got a tip Detective Jamal Salem stole the drugs from the evidence locker a week ago, and when they show up to his place, they end up braking the poor bastards neck and his nephew shot Murray off the fifth floor"
"Oh my god!"
"He didn't die for a while, he broke his back on the top of a wall and hung there and bled till he died.
"Jesus!" said Angela to herself, Officer Jamal was well liked in the precinct, he was a forty year veteran on the force and worked with her father even, he was one of the old school cops whose honor mattered more than everything else, It was impossible for him to have done that. But Murray and Stevens were good cops as well and respected Officer Salem, they wouldn't have framed him.
The nephew on the lamb should turn himself in soon, though Angela, a cop killer is very prone to be killed by any overzealous cop.
She got up and crossed the distance to Salem's desk and while no one was watching, she took a picture of him and his nephew out of its frame and slid it into her pocket, then headed back to her office. Det DeMiurgos was about to tell her something, but she already knew what it was.
"New Victims"
"Yeah, Ho"
"Your face is an open book, Detective. Let's ride."
This time, there was no feeling of awe or shock, the policemen assigned to the case had gotten used to the macabre murders that happened through the past days.
The two victims this time were a married couple of their late forties, Adrian and Eva Verne were their names. Their living room was cleared of all furniture and a triangle was carved into the hard wood floor, the couple was stripped from their clothes and each had a left or right foot missing, the remaining feet were chained together, making it impossible for them to escape. The cause of death was not clear. Angela didn't have to look far to see the number six as it was carved in the middle of the triangle, on the floor between the couple.
"The Number six," said Libowitz, "Like 666, right? From the Omen"
"Actually it's the number of the 'Lovers' Tarot Card which features Adam and Eve in Heaven with the Devil in snake form wrapped around the forbidden tree. The chains might serve as a tie in to the 'Devil' card, which shows an Incubus and a Succubus with their necks chained to a rock on which the devil is crouched."
"Please!" scoffed an officer, but a stern look from Angela put him in his place and he retreated to the outside.
"Jesus Christ!"
The same cop took out his gun and fired at something, a snake which suddenly appeared and slithered away. The cop went after the snake reloading his gun.
Libowitz punched the officer to the ground, "Are you crazy?" he yelled, "You wanna kill us with that thing."
A fight ensued between the policemen, their partners attempted to calm them both.
For an outside observer, it would have become very clear that nerves were extra tensed on the recent day, confrontations had become very common. All the time, Angela didn't pay attention, as she was literally somewhere else.
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The surroundings were a fiery orange and red, it was Hell. She could see a woman, on top of whom something Animalistic, Demonic and Brutal was hunched, tearing her apart, slowly. She can feel the woman in pain. She inched closer, trying to see the creature for what it was.
It could be best described as being tall and very thin, except for its arms which were very muscular; its entire body was covered in dark hair. It's hands and feet were claw like, it was generally hound like. Its head was that of a wolf and had fiery eyes and two sets of short horns.
Suddenly the creature turned around and stared at her for a second, she knew at that second that it was the fortune Killer, somehow it was it.
"Whore." it hissed at her, in that voice that spoke to her several times already, though this time it was clearly that of a male.
"You make the mistake of wandering into my domain."
He suddenly lunged at her, but she flew away, literally A pair of powerful arms lifted her up and flew her away from the Demon, she couldn't turn around to see who was it, but the chest behind her was firm and manly, in which a heart bat calmly. She caught a glimpse of black wings fluttering, it was an Angel.
"Very well, whore. Be gone. It's not your time anyway." said the Demon as Hell disappeared from her sight and the Angel let go of her.
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She saw Michael staring at her, so she quickly told him that the killer was picking up the pace, and he would be killing again, very soon.