Chapter 2 - A trip to the morgue

A.N- Chapter title's quite morbid but hey so is the story. We meet three new characters in this chapter, one only very briefly, and I will just apologise in advance as one of these character is not how they are portrayed in the books but this is intentional and must happen in order for the plot to make sense. Don't forget to follow and review the story and remember that constructive criticism is welcome as I would loved to improve my writing in any way.

A strong breeze caused Percy's overgrown hair on the back of his head to flutter and move in the wind freely. Did I leave the window open again? He thought as he shifted in his slumber reaching towards his silk sheet, that were probably crumpled due to his constant shuffling he tended to participate in his sleep, but all he could feel was the rough material of his trench coat and substance between the state of a liquid and solid that coated the stretch of his front and side. What the hell? Did I fall asleep in my clothes again? There was a faint chirp and flutter of wings of nearby migrating birds- robins, possibly sparrows- in the far distance as Percy slowly came back to reality. However there was still no light to be seen with his eyes closed and there was a strong aroma of manure and grass.

Eyes snapping open, Percy propelled forward his muscles groaning in protest at his every movement. He winced as his eyes came in contact with the sun and blinked rapidly as he gazed downward. Grunting he reached his other arm back to grasp the back of his head; hissing at the contact between the sensitive skin and rough fingertips and recently trimmed nails. Bringing his hand back he inspected it with rapt interest; the blood that clung to his fingertips was still wet and slick, as he guessed he had only been out for a few hours at most, bruises littered his knuckles as he gently swayed the back of his hand leisurely. The shavings looked like dried paint that had been chipped over time Percy thought as he scraped his hand against his trousers leg.

He lifted his head and took this chance to survey his surroundings in hopes to gain any more insight to his situation. A ball of raging flames in the sky swallowed any moisture in the atmosphere while beating down hard upon the fragile and recently plowed ground he lay upon. The sky was clear and overhead in the distance passing rain clouds could be seen approaching, their distinct grey colouring seemed to dim the surrounding area. A fence surrounded the area of plowed mud, it's wooden frame looked frail and worn almost like it would fall apart if a feather of a passing bird fell upon it.

Standing up Percy tried to wipe the mud that clung to his clothes off only for it to be stuck to his hands. Groaning, he searched around him for his missing gun that had slid from his grasp during the fight. As he continued to look down at the mixture of dead hay and tall grass, completely ignoring his surroundings, he heard a similar crunch of the grass as he trampled along except this time they weren't his footsteps. It couldn't be as they weren't in time with each other. Percy froze on the spot, face flushed and without any defense the only thing he could do was to slowly turn around and face the unidentified person.

"Moo!"

A docile cow, about half the height of Percy's towering frame, stood passively as it munched lazily on a few strands of sterile grass. Its nose flared with every deep willed breath, opening so wide that it allowed Percy, though unwilling, to see the contents of the nostrils. The cow's ears flapped leisurely in the light breeze that had begun to pick up. Tail wagging in the wind, it disposed of unrelenting flies that seemed to hover around it like a second skin. Beady, round eyes seemed to stare into Percy with intensity, probably questioning why he was here and not food. Drool dripped from the beast's mouth along with blades of grass.

"Oh you must be my brother's girlfriend," Percy exclaimed feeling slightly disoriented from the blood loss. The cow's tongue flopped out of its mouth in response.

"Nah, you're way too pretty for him," he retaliated, waving his hand in the air. Going to scratch his jaw, he noticed a slight stinging feeling in his cheek. He dug his hand into his coat pocket and retrieved his lighter. He held to shiny metal elephant ornament an arms length from his cheek trying to see his injury.

His skin had a defined small graze. The skin separated in a straight line with only a small amount of blood trickling out. Gently touching the cut he grimaced, which only resulted in his injury to hurt even more. Well, whoever did this knew what he was doing, Percy mulled tilting his head to the side for a better look, it won't scar at least.

Shoving the lighter once again in his pocket he began to flex his muscles finally feeling the pain of last nights fight. With his head pounding he began to walk over to retrieve his gun and pick up the knives his attacker had dropped. After putting his gun in his holster, Percy slowly dragged one of the blades across his fingertip. A clean cut.

The knife was no ordinary kitchen knife, not even a throwing knife. It was professional. Its glossy finish caught in the glare of the disappearing sun, startling the cow behind causing it to trot away irritated. Putting the knives away he advanced toward the abandoned car, with its doors wide open, no key in sight

The smell of the leather seats clogged all other senses as Percy gazed inside the car. The overworked seat belts hung lifeless as the worn material of the belt slowly wilted away. The dashboard was spotless not a speck of dust landed upon its matte black plastic. Although the back seats were another story. Bottles, cans and rubbish littered the floor and the seats as he was suddenly overwhelmed the smell of day old sandwiches and stale beer. Resisting the urge to empty the contents of his stomach Percy quickly fumbled as he searched through the glove compartment and underneath the seats for any clues. Nothing.

Not even a drop of blood from the men. Walking to the front of the car he took out a notepad and pen from his top pocket and jotted down the registration number of the vehicle. He decided to check the database once he got back to the station, maybe there would be information on the car there.

Parking his car in the car park across the street from the station Percy lay his head against the headrest and let out a deep breath through his nose. Luckily his face had been spared in the fight, except for the minor cut on his cheek, so that wouldn't raise too many eyebrows. He turned his head to the side as he stared at his head injury. He didn't have a concussion, that he was sure of, the wound had pretty much healed spare some blood that clutched his hair tightly.

Opening the door he advanced towards the station. The station stood between an old bakery, its sign faded a dull pink and spelled out 'RICHARD AND SONS BAKERY', and an abandoned youth club, with its doors and windows boarded up with rotting wood and a for sale sign overturned and lying in a puddle on the ground. The station was a brick building, small only three floors tall, and a large blue door stood at the front of the building. Through the window you could see officers dressed in freshly pressed uniform wandering with a purpose, some held a cup of cold coffee in plain white mugs. At least four police cars sat parked in front of the building, the black and white paint job rusted and in all of the vehicles at least one of the blue or red lights didn't work. In the upper floors the curtains were drawn, shielding them from passersby.

Once inside Percy nodded politely at the officer at reception and began to make his way up the stairs. As he approached the stairs he collided with someone by the shoulder which caused him to almost lose his balance if he hadn't caught the banister of the stairs.

"Are you sure they really made you detective? I mean I thought they would have someone who could at least stand on their own two feet," a voice drawled, sarcasm dripping from their tone.

Percy turned around sharply, his mouth puckered like he had tasted something sour and glared at a pair of taunting green eyes.

"Are you sure you want to be seen in front of the whole station attacking a senior officer, Luke?" Percy snarled his fist balling and eyes narrowing.

Luke slid a hand through his wavy blond hair making the hair seem even more messier than before. His almond shaped eyes slitted as his thick eyebrows raised in question.

"I wouldn't call that attacking, would you?" He replied smirking as his eyes darted to the officers that had stopped their morning routine to watch the scene with apprehension.

"Just get back to work, all of you," Percy called, addressing the rest as well as Luke. The effect was almost instantaneous, the noise began to pick up as the officers began answering phone calls and flipping through files.

Before walking off Luke bumped his shoulder once more muttering darkly, "Just watch your back detective."

As he approached his desk on the second floor he saw his brother leaning against his desk his back to him, arms crossed, shoulders slightly drawn back. Oh shit he only does this when he's pissed, Percy moaned as he looked up at the clock above his brother's head, 8:05 so if I'm not late what is it?

Cautiously Percy pushed the door open, grimacing at the creaking sound of the door. His brother's head snapped at the sound like an owl and glared at Percy so hard that he dropped his head and stared at his shoes like a five year old caught stealing a cookie. He scuffled his feet and asked, "So what did I do this time?"

He heard his brother sigh like a disappointed parent, "Did you even look at your phone last night?"

He hadn't, but it wasn't his fault. His phone was flat and he didn't have any time to charge it before he got a call on his landline about a tip on the investigation and rushed off to the field.

"It was flat, and I was...out," he defended himself, holding his arms up showing surrender. It wasn't a lie but yet it still felt wrong not telling his brother the truth but something in him was screaming not to tell just yet, and so for once in his life Percy kept his mouth shut.

Sighing his brother shook his head and motioned for Percy to take a seat at his desk. He reached into a drawer in his own desk and extracted a single cream file and dropped it in front of Sebastian. There was nothing special about the file, Percy brooded as his nimble fingers sorted through the file, the only distinguishing feature was the white label with bold black lettering that spelled 'UNSOLVED CASE #176'.

"Another murder last night. Some civilian saw two guys hunched over this body, called the station and soon the whole damn force was down on these guys, but these guys must have been daredevils or something cause they ended up jumping across rooftops and got away."

"You're kidding Tyson," Percy exclaimed, slamming the file shut, "This was our first shot at catching these guys and they let them get away!"

Tyson calmly approached the desk retrieving the file and returning it to its rightful place in the desk. He smirked and smacked Percy on the back of the head his metal watch pulling hair off his head.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, you ass!" Percy yelped as he gripped at the already sensitive skin feeling the wound beginning to open once more. Tyson chuckled sarcastically, scoffing at Percy before reaching into his coat and withdrawing a black piece of leather. Flicking it open he revealed a shiny golden badge that glistened in the light of the table lamp.

"Do you remember what this is? What we promise to do?" He whispered staring at the badge. Percy gazed uneasily at Tyson already feeling the guilt of being reprimanded by his older brother; his head slowly drooping towards the ground, eyes downcast and shoulders limp. He knew of course how this speech would end having heard it repeated to him many times since they both joined the force as bright-eyed bushy tailed adolescents.

"We, are supposed to protect those who can not protect themselves and stop the bad guys. So, let me ask you, where were you when I was running after those two hmm? Out getting drunk, again? I'm surprised you're even still on this case."

"Well that makes two of us, " Percy forced out rising, "Now did you get any evidence from the scene?"

Sighing he replied, "Follow me, you're going to need to see Will."

Will Solace sat twiddling his thumbs staring at the face of the unmoving body below, his eyes pulled wide showing his full eyeball, veins and all. He tilted his head back still gazing with insistence at the man.

"It's really hard to win a staring contest against a dead guy," he muttered pulling back after he blinked wincing at the water that immediately rushed to console his desert dry eyes. Picking up the clipboard from his desk he read aloud the list.

"No clear signs of struggling, no bruises, shard of knife retrieved most likely hunting knife, weird tattoo on back of neck," he droned on, turning the head as he peered at the tattoo in question, "Probably chinese for soup," he chided lightly.

Pushing the head back Will sat down in his chair with a plop. His head lolled back with a creak as he adjusted his position on the cheap chair that had been here ever since Will started working here on work experience. He could vividly remember his classmates horror when he explained he was going to work with dead bodies during lunch time. Ellen Lou would never be able to look at a beef sandwich the same way again, Will chuckled with a smirk ever present on his face.

A sharp cry of a bell broke his musing. Glancing sharply at his computer, an image, in black in white, of two figure popped up on his screen. The shorter of the two raised his hand and wiggled his fingers in a form of saying hello to the camera above their heads. The other shook his head as he raised a black wallet and let it fly open.

Detectives, Will mused, must be here for soup tattoo. He pressed the button on his desk allowing the door downstairs to unlock, he lifted up a silver scalpel as he adjusted his hair in its reflection and brushed off the remnants of blood from his lab coat; it wasn't often he got visitors.

There was a brief knock on the wooden door before it flung itself open. The two men from outside walked in glancing momentarily at the room, scrunching their noses at the smell before landing their sights on him. Did he really smell that bad? Will pondered reaching his hand out to shake the room's latest occupants.

He recognised one of the two as Tyson Jackson. He had visited frequently to view the bodies and to gain his notes; Will secretly thought it was because he was the only one able to have a conversation with him without having to come up with a pitiful excuse halfway through. His brown hair was combed to the side finishing just short of his ears. He regarded Will with a soft smile, tipping his head towards him as he nudged the man next to him on the shoulder.

The man's hand flew from his pocket forewards faltering as he gazed at Will's hand. "Erm, you may want to take that off, just a thought."

Confused Will glanced down at his outstretched hand. Well, glove. Blood and other unidentifiable juices soaked the plastic covering, creating a rather bad smell. Shit, Will thought before whipping the glove off with haste, blood rushing to his cheeks, this is why you aren't a people's person.

"Good to see you Will, how are you doing?" Tyson inquired smiling kindly.

Embarrassed. "Good, I'm fine."

Nodding even though unconvinced Tyson continued gesturing to the man who was looking intently at the body currently on the table cut open down the middle, "This is my brother-"

"Fellow detective."

Sigh. "Fellow detective, Percy, we were wondering if we could get a look at the body they brought in this morning?"

"Oh, soup guy," Will blurted out before he could bite his tongue. Idiot, such an idiot. He turned around to avoid the confused looks he was on the receiving end of. "Yeah sure, just follow me."

He approached the decomposing figure as he leaned over to grab his clip board. Will reached into his top coat pocket extracting a pale blue ball-point pen, clicking it twice.

"Clean kill, uncommon for a stomach wound but not impossible, no clear struggling or attempts at escaping he died almost instantaneously," Will rumbled off as he ran a pale hand through his groomed locks, "Nothing unusual about the death and I would write it off as just as an accident if it wasn't for this."

Will lifted an arm and gestured to thick red indents circling the thin wrist, "He was bound by the wrists, tied up and," he held the hand at an angle making the fingertips clear, "there's dirt and grime stuck deep under the nails."

He dropped the hand.

"The body was moved?" Percy inquired shifting his weight to his other leg raising his eyebrow in puzzlement.

"And that's not all," Will called as he turned and walked towards the filing cabinets that lined the walls. He tapped his nails on the metal fronts. Clang, clang, clang. His movements froze as he gripped the silver rung janking it forward. The aroma of paper filled the room as Will filtered through the files. With a small cry he pulled out an item wrapped in a clear plastic bag. He quickly threw on a pair of gloves before unwrapping the object.

"This was especially interesting," Will began now holding a shard of silver jagged around the edges. Elegant swirls were carved effortlessly on the entirety of the blade. It would seem like a priceless heirloom if it were not for the hardened blood that clung to the shard.

"I tested for DNA," Will piped up answering the detectives' questioning gazes, "nothing but this guys right here, either the blood washed everything off or those guys were wearing gloves or something."

"Gloves?" Percy asked, "What kind, any threads or anything."

"Leather, I'm guessing here, but I couldn't find any fibres of cloth under the microscope, why?"

"I'm not allowed to disclose," Percy replied inching closer to the body and looking directly at the figure, ignoring the confused gaze his brother had on him. Maybe I'm not the only weird one, Will thought as he was putting the shard back into its bag where it belonged. Percy looked up at Will his eyebrows raised.

"Any ID on the guy?"

"Noah McCormack, age 43, two kids and the chairman of the no smoking club," Will recited, the words rolling off his tongue. "Just sent that to you guys about half an hour ago cause you know, someone needs to notify the family."

"I'll do it," Tyson piped up, "So definitely intentional then?"

"Yeah but that's not the interesting part," Will answered as his filtered through the mounds to paper dictating his desk. He shuffled through them with haste; throwing unimportant files onto the floor. He lifted a pile of folders all the same cream colour as the rest except they were bound together with a piece of red string holding them tight. Throwing the pile to Tyson who caught it with ease, Will rushed to his desktop and brought up a map of the city and connected it to the projector he had sitting beside him.

"I've been reviewing these murders and I think they're all connected," Will began fumbling for a red marker in his pocket.

"We already know they're connected somehow," Percy butted in leaning back into the table as casual as someone could look next to a dead body.

"But you don't know how is the problem, so see in each case the person has a tattoo, a marking made in black, with the same design as this knife that you guys recovered from the scene!" Will yelled as he began marking x's in seemingly random places on the map.

"Hold on." This time it was Tyson who interrupted. He too was leaning against the metal table the body lay upon but instead he was reading through the page of the file Will had thrown at him. "This wasn't in any of your reports, black tattoos or whatever."

"I didn't think it was relevant until now," Will dismissed with a wave of his hand, continuing to mark the wall with the projection on it. He'll paint over it.

"Is there anything else you haven't been disclosing with the force or will we have to start looking for your replacement?" Percy asked now standing straight and alert, looking ready for a fight.

"Calm down Percy," Tyson remarked. He then turned to face Will, even though he had his back to him, he could feeling the question in his gaze though.

"No, but there's something you guys have been keeping from me," Will replied finishing his final x and turning on the spot, chucking the marker onto the pile of disregarded files of his desk. Leaning over, Will plucked the files from Tyson and opened them to the same page.

"You haven't told me where the murders have been happening."

"You don't need to know," Percy called looking more agitated by the minute. Pinching the bridge of his nose he exhaled deeply through his mouth. "What about the locations anyway, they don't seem to have any correlation?"

Will grinned like a child on Christmas morning; cheeks stretching, dimples deepening. "Everything," he breathed, "They're built on ley lines."

"What the hell are ley lines?"

"They're invisible lines that that have this magnetic energy pulsing through them, usually have historic structure built on them especially where two or more lines cross over, Stonehenge for example. Many believe that these lines and where they cross they have some kind of mystical energy that resonates in them which is why I think they're the key to finding the killers," Will rambled on, his hand gestures becoming more energetic with each word passing his lips.

"So what are you saying that we're dealing with?" Tyson questioned raising an eyebrow hesitantly as his eyes wandered to Percy who ignored his gaze.

"Satanic worshipers."

"Oh for fucks sake."

A.N- Ok, I know Tyson's manners and characteristics are not what is described in the books, but in this story he is a normal human being not a cyclops and he is critical to the plot later on as Percy did need to have a brother for the story to work. He will continue to be OOC for the rest of the story. What did you guys think about Will? I tried to make him a bit quirky and strange, and I definitely think I will include Nico in later chapters as I think Solangelo would be an interesting pairing to explore in this scenario. So what do you guys think about that?