Before the Eye of God

[Siriel]

Monday, I suppose.

[Siriel]

I'm not really happy with this part, to be honest. But it's already been too long and I don't think staring at it for a few more days will make it better.

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“Meaning what, that they’re invisible?”

Somewhere between resignation and doubt, Detective Williams looked at the couch where someone alledgedly sat.

“Not quite. I believe that they are partially shifted into another dimension of some kind; it is definitely something more than mere camouflage. Observe.”

Taking a step forward, he waved his cane above the couch without obstruction.

“I confess that I don’t understand how they’ve accomplished this, yet. Or why they would even attempt it, for that matter. Would you care to wager a guess?”

At his question, combined with the slightest touch of suggestion, the detective snapped out of his tempoary confusion, as he’d intended.

Profiling, guessing at motivations, those were things that were in familiar territory. Even if the means were absurd, the person was still human, so the detective could put his brain to work rather than try to figure out things that were beyond his means.

Obtaining a second opinion was one of the reasons why he had allowed Williams to notice his presence, so it wouldn’t do to let the man dwell on how out of his depth he really was.

“Maybe they’re hiding?”

“I thought of this, of course.” In two graceful steps, Leonard Conroy moved to stand closer to the couch. “But it makes little sense. Why hide in such a way that you have no way to tell when others are close? After all, if I knew how they hid themselves, I could take them by surprise right now.”

Douglas resisted the urge to slap Conroy in favor of scratching his head. How would he know if the invisible – or shifted, or whatever – person could tell they were here? It wasn’t like he’d encountered this kind of things before.

“Then I guess it wouldn’t be any good for spying, either?”

An elegant shake of the head marked the return of Conroy’s ever annoying smile.

“I suppose if they only wanted to scout a location it might be an option, but even then there are easier ways. Besides, I am unsure as to how much they can affect this world, or how they perceive it for that matter. It is possible that the scenery on the other side is quite different from ours.”

For once, he found it easy to take Conroy’s weirdness in stride. His head felt clear, like he’d just finished his morning coffee. It was probably because the man was actually being helpful in his own cryptic way, instead of just harassing him.
As for the question; if there were no advantages for the person, then the next possibility was easy to figure out.

“Then maybe they drag people there? Nobody saw where the victims came from.”

He hoped that wasn’t the case. How were they supposed to catch someone with a magical disappearing act?

“Camouflage for easy transport?” Offhandedly, Conroy readjusted his hair that had almost moved out of position. “Excessive if it’s the only purpose of their trick, but there is merit to your theory. Hum…if that was the case, then they should have a way to induce the shift. Please take two steps back.”

Staring at the floor, he tapped it thrice with his cane, and Douglas couldn’t help but feel that he only saw a small part of what was happening. With an odd, crunching sound, the floor paint began to peel.

”What the hell are you doing to my crime scene?”

Gritting his teeth, he reminded himself of what had happened the last time he’d lunged at Conroy.

He could put up with a lot, but he wasn’t about to let him wash evidence away.

“Nothing you wouldn’t, if you could. The paint is fairly recent.”

As though to prove his point, the green layer peeled away completely, revealing an irritatingly familiar red symbol.

So they’d been here, that was conclusive proof. He could almost have thanked Conroy.

The noise continued, attracting his attention to the side of the strange symbol, where a spiral had begun to appear. Puzzled, he turned to Conroy.

“What’s that?”

“I believe that is something that you know almost as much about as I do.”

Had the man gone blind? Half turning back to the symbol, he gestured with his hand.

“No, that spir-“

Except there was no spiral, the circle was the only thing on the floor.

“Huh, I could’ve sworn there was something else there.”

“Perhaps an optic illusion caused by the scattered paint.” With a condescending smile, Conroy patted him on the shoulder. “Still, you did good work detective. Speaking with you has saved me quite some time, and now you have something to present to your superiors.”

Without stopping for his reply, he walked outside of the apartment.

“Hey, wait, what about the other guy?”

By the time he reached the door, Conroy had already vanished.

“Figures. Asshole.”

“Who’re you talking t-what the hell?”

With heavy, hurried steps, Jon rushed from the upper floor to stare at the symbol.

“But I checked it! Everything was clean!”

And now his partner looked at him like he was a wizard. Thanks, Conroy.

Shrugging helplessly, he gestured at the couch.

“It was hidden underneath. I just pushed it on the side, and there it was.”

A flimsy excuse; he hadn’t even moved the couch. Still, Jon didn’t have a reason not to believe him, and the shrug told him that his partner at least accepted it.

“Well, at least now we can be sure that our info’s, what the hell is that noise?“

Douglas frowned as Jon stopped like he was focusing on something.

“What noise?”

“I dunno, it’s like static or something.”

There wasn’t any noise though, and Jon wasn’t wearing any headphones, so it couldn’t be his radio.

“There isn’t any noise, Jon.”

“Sure there is. Can’t you hear it? I think it’s coming from my pocket, wait a second.”

If this was just Jon’s cellphone, there would be words. He didn’t need this kind of crap after dealing with Conroy.

When Jon produced a blue pendant from his pocket, he felt his heart jump in his throat.

“Shouldn’t that be in evidence? What is it doing here?”

“Well, you know.” Jon sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “I figured we might need it for reference. I filed the paperwork and everything.”

Moving closer, he began to hear a buzz not unlike what he would expect from his television, coming from the pendant. Right, maybe Jon’s irresponsible handling of evidence wasn’t the biggest problem.

“You were right, there’s definitely something coming from there.”

“I told you, Doug. It definitely wasn’t doing that earlier though.” Lifting the pendant up to his eyes, Jon squinted. “Do you think it could be a transmitter or something?”

He believed in that about as much as Jon did, which wasn’t much considering the smile on his partner’s face. The culprits spying on the cops? That stuff only came up in spy movies.

Before he could reply, his nose informed him of another problem.

“Is it me, or does it smell like smoke all of a sudden?”

Whatever answer Jon had been about to spout caught in his throat as blood began to pour from the upper floor.

From the upper floor? No, now that he looked a second time, the walls themselves were bleeding as the white noise intensified.

Blinking rapidly, he took a step back as the ceiling's lights flickered, a cold feeling stopping him before he could back any more.

Swirling around so quickly that his vision blurred, he could only stare at a bloodstained wall that definitely hadn't been there a moment before.

What in the world? Eyes darting left and right, he could only conclude that they were somehow in a tight hallway, barely two meters in width.

A hallway whose walls were covered in bloodstains, illuminated by flickering lights.

[Rafflesiac]

“Well, at least now we can be sure that our info’s, what the hell is that noise?“.

The period is redundant.

A hallway whose walls were covered in bloodstain, illuminated by flickering lights.

Bloodstains.

[Siriel]

Thanks.

[Siriel]

Bringing his hand to the wall, he corrected himself; it wasn’t blood, only rust.

Except that wasn’t any better, because there was no way a building as large as this one could become contaminated so thoroughly and not incite some sort of renovation effort. More importantly, it did nothing to explain how the hell they’d gotten here.

A clack coming from behind him made him turn back toward Jon, who’d just closed his cell phone and shook his head.

“No signal?”

“Of course not.” His partner sighed. “Either this place isn’t covered, or they insulated it somehow. I guess that makes sense; they wouldn’t leave us our cellphones if we could use them right?”

He couldn’t help a wince when his partner made allusion to the mysterious and probably non-existent ‘they’ that had brought them here. He’d better change the subject.

“You still don’t remember anything either then? After the noise, I mean.”

“Nope, what we were hearing must’ve been ultrasound or something. I’ve read about things like this on the web; frequencies that can knock you unconscious.”

Douglas couldn’t help but wonder how someone could be as smart as Jon sometimes was, yet still rely on conspiracy nuts on the internet for factual information.

It had come in useful for once though; Jon had jumped to the conclusion that they’d been kidnapped on his own, and all it had taken from Douglas was a confirmation that he’d lost consciousness for a moment.

Except he hadn’t. He hadn’t closed his eyes once while the building shifted around them, but there was no way he could tell that to Jon; better to let him think that shadowy masterminds were real than to let him make contact with the kind of bullshit that Conroy was supposed to deal with.

Looking up at the exposed pipes on the ceiling - and wasn’t that another breach of regulations - he offered a shrug.

“Well, however they did it, we’d better get moving before they remember us. If we can make it out of here, we might be able to recognize what part of the city we’re in.”

An accepting nod, and damned if it didn’t break his heart that Jon trusted him that much, was the last communication between them before they began to go down the halls, guns drawn just in case.

The fact that they had weapons should’ve been plenty of indication to Jon that the kidnapping theory was fake, but apparently his friend was too perturbed to think right.

The occasional splashing whenever one of them took a step into a puddle of water, accompanied by appropriate swearing, was the only noise as they advanced, only turning when the corridor left them no other options.

And the silence was something else, wasn’t it? In a shithole like this, he’d have expected rats or something, but there wasn’t anything moving aside them and the occasional drops of water that got on their nerves. He’d always hated that noise, but it was almost impossible to handle right now, like it was drilling into his brain and taking up the space that he needed to think about where the hell they were.

What was it that Conroy had said? “Here but not here”? The next time they met, he would make sure to punch the smug asshole, cheap tricks or not. Because wherever this was, it certainly wasn’t an apartment complex, not when they’d been walking for five goddamn minutes without seeing so much as a hint of stairs.

He almost walked right into Jon when the man suddenly stopped walking after turning yet another identical corner.

“What are you doing?”

Without answering, his partner tilted his head to the side.

“Do you hear that?”

Oh God. Doing his best to ignore the ball of ice that had just formed in his chest, he shook his head negatively.

“Hear what? Please don’t tell me you’re hearing that noise again.”

“Nah, it’s more like…water. I think it’s coming from that way.”

“Of course I hear water, those goddamn droplets won’t stop falling all over the place.”

Ignoring his grumbling, Jon grabbed his hand and quickly dragged him toward another embranchment that led back into the direction they’d just come from, Douglas strained to hear anything. Had his partner snapped?

No, there it was. The constant, steady sound of water striking the ground, becoming more and more intense as they advanced toward the source. How in the world had Jon heard it from so far away?

Whatever the mean, they soon found themselves before the only window he’d seen since their arrival in wherever this was.
And what he was seeing through that window just couldn’t be right.

“Hey, Jon?”

“Doug?”

His partner’s nonchalant response was the proof that he felt just as disconnected from the situation as Douglas himself did. There was a certain threshold of ludicrous that he couldn't even bring himself to care about.

“Did I just forget that the meteo predicted a goddamn hurricane right in the middle of Portland?”

“Apparently we both did, Douglas. We both did.”

[Rafflesiac]

There was a certain threshold of ludicrous that he couldn't even bring himself to care about.

I like this line.

[Siriel]

Drug dealers? Okay.

Supernatural cultists? Fine.

Spontaneous hurricanes? Nope.

[Rafflesiac]

I didn't notice any errors this time around either.

Is this...could it be...?

[mAc Chaos]

I'm having a hard time imagining where they are or how they are near a hurricane, but otherwise it's good.

I'm picturing them in a building and just looking out the window, and seeing a ton of rain.

[Siriel]

I'm picturing them in a building and just looking out the window, and seeing a ton of rain.

Then I've done a perfect job describing the scene!

[Siriel]

A short scene to help me get back into things. You have Christemo and RWBY's Sacrifice to thank for this.

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Of course there would be a hurricane; because that made sense. Just like everything else about this godforsaken case that he never should have accepted because everything that Conroy touched was poisoned with his weirdness. Oh, but he could get a promotion out of it! What was he a horse? Evidently he was, because he kept trotting after the carrot without noticing that it would never ever be in his reach.

Turning back toward the impossibly endless corridors that made no sense, he found Jon’s hand uncomfortably close, waving in front of his face.

Slapping it away, he faced his partner’s concerned expression.

“The hell’re you doing?”

“Are you okay, Doug? You kind of zoned out there.”

“Of course I’m okay! Who wouldn’t be? Now come on; we have to find the exit.”

Taking a forceful step, Christ his foot was heavy all of a sudden, he led by example.

What was Jon going on about anyway, poor fool didn’t even know what kind of mess they were in and he was worrying for him? Bah, anyone would zone out a bit when they faced a goddamn hurricane that came out of nowhere.

And now the building was swirling, just great.

A second, feeble, step made him stumble and almost introduced his face to the floor; it would have succeeded too if his taller partner hadn’t caught him at the last second.

“I got you.”

In a simple, forceful motion, Jon brought him up to sit against the wall; his intended protest died in his throat when he noticed the black spot in his vision.

A warm hand was applied to Douglas’ forehead, and his partner shook his head.

“Well, it’s not a fever. You must’ve just burnt yourself out by getting so worked up.” Trust Jon to make a diagnosis in two seconds; it was about as legitimate as Douglas' earlier claim of being fine. Sitting next to him, Jon sighed. “Or maybe it’s bad nutrition; who knows what they fed us.”

“Mmh?”

His intended question came out as an incomprehensible mumble. Dammit, why the hell did he feel so bad all of a sudden?

“Well, you know, I figure we must’ve been unconscious longer than I thought.” What the hell was he talking about? Ah, he’d almost forgotten; Jon had a theory about this not being magic bullshit, because his partner still lived in a nice, sensible world. “I mean there’s no way they brought a hurricane to us, so obviously we must’ve been unconscious for at least a couple of days. What’s the usual warning for things like this anyway?”

“I have no freaking clue.” Haha! Victory! His throat felt like it was being stabbed with tiny swords, but he’d spoken. “You wouldn’t happen to have –ack- some water or something?”

Fishing through his pockets, Jon shrugged.

“Doesn’t look like it, sorry bud. If you’re okay, I could go look.”

Well, Douglas certainly wasn’t walking anywhere; not when the building wouldn’t stay still. Reaching to his side, he verified that he still had his sidearm.

Not that he thought he could hit the broadside of a barn, but it was still nice. Not wanting to risk damaging his throat, he nodded his approval.

“Alright then.” Glancing at his watch, Jon pressed a button on it. “If I don’t find anything in five minutes – or if I do- I’ll double back here.”

In the movies, the partner would have made a joke about making sure not to shoot him when he came back.

But those who’d actually seen friendly fire knew that wasn't something you joked about. There was a reason he hadn’t taken out his gun.

“Okay, so just hold on and don’t close your eyes. I’ll be right back”

God, it was like he was five again. The only thing he could do to show his annoyance was roll his eyes though.

Ugh, bad idea. The walls were practically rippling now.

As Jon headed out through the grey corridors with a shit-eating grin that couldn't completely hide how tense he felt, the only thing Douglas could do was be thankful that at least the floor wasn't wet where he’d sat down.

[Rafflesiac]

Evidently he was, because he kept trotting after the carrot without noticing that it would never ever be In his reach.

No caps.

Taking a forceful step, christ his foot was heavy all of a sudden, he led by example.

I always thought Christ was capitalized.


And wow, wasn't expecting an update for this. Looks like things are tanking even harder than before.

[Christemo]

You have Christemo and RWBY's Sacrifice to thank for this.

[mAc Chaos]

I sense a boundary field~~~

Good chapter.

[Siriel]

Breathe in, breathe out. Two steps forward.

Breathe in, breathe out. Two steps forward.

The weight of his sidearm in his hands helped Jon keep focused as he slowly progressed down the corridor, fighting off the discomfort from the humidity.

It had been unexpected, but he couldn’t blame Douglas for collapsing like that; the situation was far too weird. Even he knew that his theory was bullshit; if they’d been held long enough for a hurricane to show up, they wouldn’t have been exactly as unshaven as they were beforehand. If they had been knocked out at all, and that became more unlikely the more he thought about it, then it hadn’t been for more than a few hours.

Something was wrong with the building too, besides the obvious disuse; it was just too big and empty. It was almost nothing but corridors, and no one would build a place just to walk inside it.

Just as he started to wonder if there was some kind of optical illusion in play and that he might have actually been going in a circle, a small sound froze him in place. An instant later, a second sound reached him.

Footsteps, he realized, too heavy for a kid, too light for someone of his size.

Moving with his back to the wall as quickly as he could without making noise, he finally, found himself in front of a door. With careful movements, he opened it as silently as he could, thanking whoever was looking out for him that it was unlocked.

At first glance, it looked like a cafeteria, although if it was it was both the cleanest and the least clean place to eat he’d ever seen; it was as rusted and damp as the rest of the building, but there was no trace of food or garbage. It was like someone had built it for a large group, and then abandoned it to nature without ever using it.

“The weather isn’t getting any better out here, Father.” A male voice brought his attention to the rightmost corner of the room; a blond-haired man, about six feet tall at a glance, held a phone. Judging by the cord, it was a landline. “It was foretold, of course, but it’s making him irritable; he didn’t react well when I presented him today’s offerings.”

Jon slipped into the room, slowing down the closing door as much as possible behind him. The other man was too relaxed to have been brought here the same way they had; he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings at all.

“Understood.” It was irritating to only hear one half of the conversation, but the man’s body language told him it would be over soon; in preparation, he settled on placing himself about six meters away, with two tables between them. “I’ll inform him that the next sacrifice will occur in two days then.”

Sacrifice; the word bounced around in his head and he slipped his finger closer to the trigger. It didn’t actually prove anything, but he was now almost certain that the man was related to the case.

After a final exchange of pleasantries, the man put down the phone with a sigh and started heading toward a door on the other side of the room without sending so much as a glance in Jon’s direction.

“Stay where you are.” Firearm at the ready, though not yet pointed at the man, Jon prepared himself in case he made a run for it. “I’m with the police.”

A jump of surprise preceded the man turning toward him with widened eyes.

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Something was wrong with him. He felt like puking, and the humidity made him feel like his skin was crawling around despite the fact that he wasn’t moving.

He should have clued in before; he didn’t suffer from panic attacks.

His head spun, and through blurred eyes it seemed like the patterns of rust on the walls were changing, twisting, and becoming lighter.

Lighter? Squinting to try to focus, he paled; the rust wasn’t turning into a lighter shade of red. It was bleeding. Actual blood was spewing out of the walls.

The injective died in his dry throat before he could speak it out loud. How messed up could he be to hallucinate like that? And of course it was an hallucination, because walls didn’t ripple or bleed, and the blood wasn’t accumulating on the ground no matter how much the walls bled.

His vision blurred even more and he felt his stomach lurch, his head feeling like it was about to explode from the headache caused by the shifts.

A part of the wall stepped forward into the middle of the corridor.

No, he squinted as much as he could, it was a person; they were just wearing shirts and pants with a pattern that mixed in with the rust.

The figure stepped forward, and he fumbled while trying to lift his firearm; forget lifting it, he couldn’t even croak out a warning right now.

With a chill, he realized that it wasn’t just the clothes; dull silver hair and tattoos adorning the exposed arms completed the illusion. He couldn’t see clearly, so if a human-shaped piece of the wall had detached itself it would probably look the same.

Two more steps, the figure was almost in reach of him now, and he could see the shape more clearly; it was a woman, he was almost certain.

The walls rippled, blood and rust rearranging itself with the figure’s steps, and he realized that it wasn’t that she’d stepped out of the wall; the walls came out of her. She was at the center.

Ah, that made sense. He couldn't defend himself and he was in some weird hellish place so of course a monster would come after him.

He bent over in a pained cough. Why did she bother coming toward him? He wouldn’t last long anyway.

She lowered herself on one knee to look at him, and the rusted scenery unfolded out of her back like wings when she extended a hand holding a bottle of water.

He didn’t understand why she uncapped the bottle and held it out toward him, tilting it forward over his head.

He fell into the ocean, drowning in frozen water.

With a start, he regained consciousness, still in the corridor where Jon had left him, and the walls were just as rusted and humid as ever, but they weren’t moving.

“Shit, did I fall asleep?”

His own voice surprised him in how strong it sounded; he mustn’t have been as dehydrated as thought. How long had he been unconscious?

Forcing himself back to his feet, he frowned when he realized how damp his shirt was. A quick look at the ground told him he’d rolled into a puddle of water while he slept; that must have been the source of the cold that woke him.

Something might have happened to Jon while he slept.

He didn’t know why, but the doubt took root into his mind. Normally it was dangerous to move from the meeting point since they might miss each other on the way back, but this place was just a series of corridors anyway; he might as well save time and go after Jon now that he felt better.

[Christemo]

That dream sequence was legit creepy. Well done. I'm incredibly pleased with the new rate of updates on this

[Rafflesiac]

That was quite trippy.

The first part was Jon, while the latter two were Douglas? At any rate, the lack of adressal in the narration helps obscure things and blend them together, which I assume is intentional.

[Siriel]

There're only two parts. One is Jon's (as evidenced by, well, Jon being there) and the other is Douglas'.