Page 34 of Investigation of a Quest

Nothing out of the ordinary had caught the cops’ attention, though—if a man chasing teens with a prop chainsaw on stilts was considered usual—but Bel found herself hoping something would go wrong. She wanted to catch this killer with his arms still around his mutilated victims, with his eyes wide and unable to flee. But so far, this night was nothing but innocent—if not very sticky from the fake blood and candy—fun.

“Which, on the one hand, is helpful,” Dorothy continued. “The crowd might make the killer bold. But it’s not great for us since it’ll make it easier for him to hide.”

“I hate this,” Olivia said as a group of children dressed as chubby little lions, tigers, and bears passed them, their precious hands clutched in their parents’ cautious fists. “This was supposed to be a fun event, and some lunatic has tainted it. Sure, we’re here to protect the party, but you can still see the worry. Hopefully, he gets cocky tonight, and we arrest him.”

“I hope so too,” Bel said. “I’ve got to go judge the haunted house, so I’ll catch you two later.”

“Have fun,” Dorothy called before resuming her patrol, but just as Bel stepped onto the home’s front walkway, a hand grabbed hers.

“Eamon made me promise to stay with you,” Olivia said.

“I don’t scare that easily,” Bel laughed, thankful for the company. “The first home had fake guts slap me in the mouth. Of course I screamed.” She squeezed her partner’s hand, knowing her haunted house fright wasn’t why Eamon wanted eyes on her, but it was easier to tease about Halloween spooks than the reality of a witch stalking her in a dhampir’s backyard.

“Well, there are certainly a lot of screams coming from this house,” Olivia said. “Maybe we’ll get a real scream out of you. What’s the theme?”

“A wizard’s lair.”

“So probably no guts slapping you in the mouth.”

“God, I hope not.”

The detectives entered the home, leaving modern suburbia behind to enter a dangerous fantasy realm filled with screaming visitors, save for two silent voices. Bel and Olivia had lived through worse horrors than this wizardry. No matter how hard the actors tried to get them to flinch, the women remained stoically unbothered. Even when the homeowner dressed as a wizard tried his hardest to terrify them, they simply smiled and moved through the rooms. It wasn’t that the house was lacking, even if the spaceship was still Bel’s favorite. It was that finding a human brain sucked out of its skull, presumably by dark magic, delivered genuine fear, and once one felt those claws dig into their soul, manufactured thrills no longer held any appeal.

“That was decent,” Olivia said as they finally rejoined modern society. “Better than I could do, but not as unique as the others.”

“I agree,” Bel said.

“But no dead bodies, so that’s a win. Hey, is there a public restroom?”

“Yellow house.” Bel pointed to the home at the end of the block. “A deputy who works in this town lives there, and his family opened their first-floor bathroom to the officers. Just show his wife your badge.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

“I’m going to look at the decorations.” Bel gestured in the opposite direction.

“I’ll find you.” Olivia took off for the yellow house, and Bel strolled down the sidewalk, half appreciating the creativity and half searching for dead bodies concealed in the decor. Nothing was overly morbid on this street, though, so she made the mistake of enjoying herself⁠—

Bel froze before the last home on the block, its backyard bleeding into the woods behind the neighborhood, but it wasn’t the yard or the trees that caught her eye. It was the monkeys. The real-life animals strung up above the grass in a contorted and painful mess.

“Oh my god!” Bel raced forward, but her eyes weren’t deceiving her. Dozens of small monkeys flew above her head, black-feathered wings inexplicably sprouting from their backs to create an undiscovered species. They were horrifying in their pained existence, their mutilated bodies writhing and contorted against the night sky, and then the blood fell.

Bel bolted forward, hands reaching for the suffering animals. They were bleeding. These living creatures had been skewered and strung up, their little bodies thrashing against the wires sewn into their flesh, and Bel started to scream. She had to help them. She had to get them down. They were bleeding all over the grass, all over her, and no one so much as batted an eye as they passed. Who could do something so heinous? And how had someone slipped dozens of breathing, flying monkeys past the police?

“Help!” Bel screamed as she tried to reach the overhead wires trapping them in pain. “Someone help me. They’re still alive!” She rushed deeper into the yard, their suffering a siren’s call until she was trapped in the secluded backyard with only the screaming monkeys as her witnesses.

Only they weren’t monkeys anymore… at least not living ones. Plastic animals littered the yard, and not one of them was even remotely realistic-looking. What had been so convincingly living creatures seconds ago were now nothing but cheap plastic, and Bel froze in her tracks. Gone were the black wings, blood-soaked fur, and pain-contorted faces. All that remained were tacky decorations.

“What the…” Bel blinked, trying to clear the lies from her eyes, and when she opened them, she reared back, her shock controlling her for a split second. For there, in the shadows, stood the witch Eamon had chased from the tin man’s crime scene.

“Hands above your head!” Bel’s training kicked in, and she drew her gun in one swift motion. The flying monkeys made sense now. It was a magic trick, one meant to lure her away from those who might hear her scream.

“No!” The witch’s hands flew out in surrender, and before Bel could register her movements, the strange woman lunged for her. “Please, don’t⁠—”

A fury of fangs and fur exploded from the trees, the colossal shadow capturing the witch before she could finish her plea and dragging her into the darkness. “Run!” the bear growled, but Bel was already moving. She bolted from the backyard only to be captured by a second pair of waiting arms.

“Let go of⁠—!”

“It’s okay, I got you!” Olivia shouted over her panic, and Bel’s voice died on her tongue. “Was that…?”