The night was a theatre of horrors. The shadows danced in her mind as they played back the sound of Kano's vitriol spat like blood from her father's skull. The sight a psychopath that bore deeper into her eyes the only thing she could think of was the song her father used to sing.
The hours turned and the cogs of fate clicked and clanked until the light shined in the darkness and daylight broke over the curve of the Earth. What little sleep she mustered between those criminal hours tore away at her sanity bit by bit until all that was left was a zombie that needed even the darkest coffee to pretend to be of the living still.
When conscious finally lit a spark within her, Sonya found herself with gaze cast down at paperwork about the blood of a crime scene she was set to investigate further. Seemed there was no luck for the other detectives, so this was right for her and Jax to pick at.
The blood guy stared at her.
"Donut?" He lifted a white box and a blank smile.
"Fuck off." She turned away and without focus, stared at the words that blurred on the white sheet.
At his cubicle, the closest to the window that overlooked the construction of New York's next high rise, Jax waited for her assessment of this assignment. She dropped it on his desk and stared into the abyss of her mug as he read it over.
"Probably a mother fucking coke dealer boyfriend."
"That's it." She blindly agreed.
"Sonya?" He snapped his fingers.
"If Kano were to leave the country, how could we find out?"
"I don't think he'd be dumb enough to go to an airport." He added, "he'd be flying private."
"Doesn't answer my question."
"Air traffic control would know? Military? We did serve, we got contacts."
"What about Shang Tsung?"
This drew a blank for him, he couldn't figure it out and shook his head. After a quick glance back at the folder she dropped on his desk, he added, "definitely the boyfriend."
"You haven't even read it completely."
"Most crimes against women like her are, plus, the blood spatter report looks like a fucking butcher went at her. He knew her." He then stared up at her, those of eyes hers fixated at some lost point in the mug. "So, tell me, Sonya. What happened with the psycho?"
"Dead end. Just a bunch of bullshit."
"That's why he's there."
"You're right."
"Storm's getting worse." He looked out, beyond the steel and the structure the sky was nearly black and lightning flickered like lights that that gasped for life.
"It'll pass." She reached up with her eyes to stare past the glass, but the sky didn't seem as dark as he described it.
It hadn't. Night fell, though the sky was dark far before the sun had been shoved down into the belly of the Earth. The stars themselves hid, and the clouds roared with anger. She locked the staircase behind her, having burnt the midnight oil until nothing but darkness await her between the station and home. The car garage was a few streets turns away and the walk merely minutes, but as she drifted between the buildings that made up her home away from home, the rain struck her cold across the face.
The bony fingers of light reach down to tap the rotted streets of New York, none of which seemed near to her, but she kept her eyes up when light would streak across the sky.
At the entrance of the garage she found the warm dull hue of light welcome her in her with open arms. Her vehicle was on the third floor and would be another few minutes before the cold safety of her vehicle would sate her soaked flesh. As she meandered almost aimlessly toward her destination, her mind raced. Variations of the same thing played out in her head and she couldn't erase it, not a moment, nor a sound.
Until the sound of thunder wailed as lightning struck the side of the garage.
She moved with haste then, but something was off. As an officer with a keen sense into the human mind, she could hear another set of foot steps. Not so loud like leather boots struck against we pavement, but yet not as soft as cloth, or even bare feet. It stopped when she did and moved when she moved.
Annoyed, she stopped and turned. He eyes rolled with her shoulders as they turned around toward the nuisance only to discover nothing.
Only when the lightning struck the side of the garage a second time did a silhouette form that she could have sworn was not there before, exactly where she had turned toward.
The madness had begun to spread like a fungus within her mind. Sleep, sleep was all that she needed to fix this whole mess. Come morning, she would make her decision about Kano and the psychopath's words, but for now, get home and rest.
Slowly her vehicle rolled down the slope to ground floor and turned toward the exit where she had come in from. The rain waited for her outside like a barrier ready to stab at her from every angle. She stopped to take a moment, the thought of having to deal with the rain as she drove through New York at two am and the deprivation of sleep that now threatened her with cynical visions.
She chose to drive. Home wasn't so far and traffic couldn't be as bad as the rain.
Her wipers furiously swatted at the rain that stabbed away at the glass and what little she could see were the blurred and faded lights of traffic as the vehicle turned. Once glance back at the rear view mirror however, and she saw the silhouette a second time, and then lightning struck and the night took her.