In the most recent gruesome murder under investigation by London's finest, there was one survivor. However, the woman was admitted to the hospital due to injuries sustained in the attack, so her interrogation had to be postponed. Meanwhile, the H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. research department was working tirelessly to confirm investigators suspicions that lycanthropy may be involved. It was vital that tests be completed as swiftly as possible, as ordinary human hospitals are not equipped to handle supernaturals, which in turn puts many people at risk.
It was hoped that they were incorrect, however, that is not how things turned out. The samples provided by agents Phantomhive and Macken were confirmed lycanthropy-positive. Thus, it was swiftly determined that the victim would be sent to the H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. facility for further treatment. In addition, she too, would be tested for lycanthropy, but judging by how quickly her wounds healed, no one was optimistic.
Her name was Grace Ethans. She sat quietly in her chair on the other end of the table as she waited for the investigators to arrive and interrogate her. The woman looked exhausted. The trauma of going through such an ordeal was substantial enough for her to also need psychiatric counselling, so the duo would have to treat this gently. Really, it was a little early for interrogation, but they were pressed for time.
Finally, the door to the interrogation room opened and two gentlemen walked through. Her eyes widened at their appearances. They seemed much too young for this job, but she wasn't going to question that, especially with the mean look that the one with the eyepatch wore. The men shut the door behind them and sat down on the other side of the table. Grace was a bit taken aback by the juxtaposition of the two, as one of them had dark hair and one had light, and their expressions reflected this as well. The one with the hair of a strange blueish-black wore a surly look, and Grace couldn't tell if it was an expression of his thoughts on the situation or simply just the way his features sat. As for the blonde one, he wore a friendly smile that set the woman at ease. He looked like a man who was here to help. Together, however, they looked like comedy and tragedy.
"Thank you for cooperating with us, Mrs. Evans." Said tragedy, his tone pleasantly casual and nonthreatening. "Hopefully, if we can get all of the information we need, we can have this case wrapped up really quickly."
"It's Miss Ethans." Corrected the woman. "I'm not married anymore- not to that monster, and from what happened here, I'd like to stay that way."
"What do you mean?" questioned the bluenette, somewhat taken by surprise. He certainly didn't expect the woman to get right into things, as much as he appreciated it.
"You want to know who did this, don't you?" the woman asked. "It was my ex. He showed up, prowling around the back door late at night, shouting… After I wouldn't let him in, he… It sounds crazy, but… he… he…"
"…Turned into a beast?" continued the blonde man, raising his eyebrows questioningly. "Men really are brutes, aren't they? I suppose you're thinking something a bit more literal, though."
"Yes…"
"So what did this beast look like? A large dog? A wolf, maybe?" the blonde stopped for a moment before shaking his head. "Ah, wait, we forgot to introduce ourselves! It might help if you know our names. I'm Senior Detective Constable Macken, and the grouchy-looking fellow next to me is Senior Detective Phantomhive. Please forgive our rudeness."
"It's no problem at all. I'm Grace. Grace Ethans…" the woman said. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but she hesitated. Looking down, she sucked in a breath. "I'm… I'm not crazy, I… I just…"
"What did you see, Miss Ethans?" questioned the bluenette. He tried his best to not look intimidating, but his natural expression betrayed him. Grace blinked, trying to force away tears. Her face was flushed and her breathing quickened. "It's alright. Take all the time you need."
"It's just as he said, though." Sniffled Grace. She shook her head and shrugged. "It really is. He—he became a monster- a real monster! With—with fur, and fangs, and claws… He looked like… As mad as it seems, he looked like a—a wolfman! I just—I don't know what to do, detectives…"
"That's alright." Said Alois. "Most people don't know how to react when they see something like that, but believe me, you're not crazy. Do you know where you are, now?"
Shaking her head again, the woman spoke. "Some… Some kind of special facility…"
"A very special one. Right now, you're at the headquarters of the H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. organization. That's 'Her Royal England's Legions of Legitimate Supernatural and Immortal Night Guard'." The blonde clarified. "It's a special government branch that specializes in the handling of supernatural cases like this."
Furrowing her brow, Grace's mouth hung open slightly as she looked at the man with disbelief. "Is this some sort of joke?"
"No ma'am." Answered Ciel. "After all that you have been through thus far, it should be obvious." Pausing, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, letting out a huff of air. "Believe what you want Miss Ethans, but it could very well be detrimental to your health if you don't."
"What do you mean?"
With that, the two men looked at one another. Clearing his throat, the blonde then turned back to the woman. "What my partner is trying to say is that we know you were injured by this beast." He said. "And… Judging by how fast your wounds have healed…"
"You could be infected with lycanthropy. In other words, what happens when someone is bitten by a werewolf." Interrupted the bluenette.
"You're joking…" Grace said, her head shaking with disbelief. "I can't. I can't be. You don't understand… I can't be like that..."
"Miss Ethans, I know it's hard to accept, but-"
"Who will take care of my kids, huh?!" the woman shouted, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks. "How can I take care of them if I'm a bloody monster, huh?! Are you going to take them away once you've rescued them?!"
"Miss Ethans, calm down." Ciel instructed, putting his hands up. "What do you mean 'rescue'?"
"They're gone!" screamed grace, slamming her fist on the table, cracking it. "I had no choice but to let that bastard have his fucking visitation rights, but he— if he tried to kill me… He's not going to give them back!"
"Your ex-husband?" questioned the menace, looking to the Phantomhive with wide eyes for a moment. "Miss Ethans, you ex-husband took your children and attacked you? Is that what happened?"
"Yes! Isn't it fucking obvious?!" demanded the woman. "Harris would do something like this… That's why I divorced him… I didn't want to give him the kids, even for a weekend, but… The court ordered it… I don't know how he did this, but I know it was him. I saw him out the window, and I heard his voice shouting at me to come outside. I-I thought I was safe as long as I stayed in the house… and… O-oh God…" With that thought, Grace slouched in her seat and covered her face with her hands, releasing a heavy sob. "M-mother…"
The two men simply let her have her cry for a few moments. Unfortunately, there had to be a time where one of them got what information they needed. "It's going to be alright, Miss Ethans." Said the Phantomhive. His voice was soft and was surprisingly soothing, despite his mean face. "We'll get your children back. How many are there?"
"T-two." She choked out. "Just two. A boy and a girl… Andrew and Paige…"
"How old are they?"
"Andrew is six and Paige is fourteen… I can't imagine what they must be going through…" Grace choked. "As horrible as it is to say, I don't know if I really want to…"
Once again the gentlemen shot each other another glance. The woman was a mess. There wasn't much that they were going to be able to get out of her at the moment. Yet, they still needed one thing. Just one, single piece of information.
"We're almost done for the day, Miss Ethan…" began Alois, folding his hands as he leaned forward. "Once you tell us that, you can go, okay?"
Sniffling the woman answered. "Okay…"
"All we need to know is what your ex-husband's name is." The man said, and Grace nodded, trying desperately to compose herself.
"Harris." She hiccupped. "Harris Hartley."
