Chapter Text
Nestled in the mountains near Breckenridge, Colorado, there stood a stately, two storey house. Late August meant it was a dark and crisp night. Large clouds loomed in the sky as rain poured down from the sky, soaking a young woman, Ava Truman as she emerged through the ornate gates.
Ava looked to be in her mid-20s. She had long brown hair that had gone from wavy to frizzy and greasy. Her aqua blue eyes darted around, using her enhanced sight to check that the coast was clear. She looked up at the pouring rain and gulped before running into it.
Her pale skin stood out against the dark background of the night. The rain pelted her as her long legs sprinted frantically. She wished she’d worn a longer dress. The tattered red dress barely reached her knees. If she fell, her exposed skin would be covered in scratches and bruises. They would heal quickly but it would still hurt.
Winter season might be over, but people might still be around. She needed to get off this mountain before she was found, fast. She didn’t have long; they would absolutely notice her absence. She pushed that thought aside and kept running. She didn’t dare look back as she descended the mountainous terrain, her feet finding gaps in the rocks, scree and rubble.
It wasn’t pleasant, but she made it to the bottom. She took a moment to take a breath before turning her attention to what lay ahead, the woods.
The Next Day
Captain Veronica Ashdown watched her two remaining detectives file in and take their seats for the morning’s briefing. She was a tall, dark skinned woman in her early 50s with broad shoulders that filled out her captain’s uniform. Her short hair was clipped out of the way.
“Morning detectives,” she said, standing behind her podium. “Progress report?”
“I’m afraid not, captain,” Detective Bethany Underhill replied. “Well, I do. Another person has been reported missing.”
“This is the third this week, eighth this month. Who are we adding to the incident board this time?”
She displayed a file showing a picture of a young woman smiling widely. “Marissa Shepard,” Bethany shook her head. “We’ve been talking to Mountain patrol, but they haven’t seen anything.”
“Not like they’re exactly forthcoming.” Detective Holly Stern mumbled, slumping in her seat. Her skin was peach with a sickly, ivory undertone. Scars stretched from her temples to her ears in diagonal lines. Layers of long, ash blonde hair hung over them and cascaded down her shoulders.
Ashdown frowned. “This isn’t getting us anywhere, we need to bring in an outside perspective. Or rather, I’ve been instructed we need to bring in an outside perspective.”
“Fair enough.” Bethany said pensively. She was about a foot shorter then Holly. She had a blunt fringe that matched the red shade of the rest of her long curls that was kept out of the way in a tight ponytail. She was wearing a neatly pressed, buttoned up suit.
“We could really use the help,” Holly said dragging her hand down her face. “I suppose.” She muttered.
“He’ll be here in a couple hours. He’s here to help so be nice. Any other news?”
“Erm… The ghost in Mrs Owen’s attic has been exorcised.” Bethany reported.
“Well, that’s good. Those incessant calls won’t be missed. Ok, dismissed.” They stood up and exited the briefing room, hoping they wouldn’t be met with more dead ends.