Chapter Text
Nauseous.
That is the only word that could describe Matthew when he read the letter. He had been working on a case a few towns over when he received it. He had just hours ago wrapped up his previous case involving a psychotic plumber. It took him weeks to solve the mystery of who had been killing off the local wildlife and leaving the bodies at the doorstep of the Mayor’s daughter. No one suspected the plumber who had worked for her father for the last 20 years. It may not have been easy, but that had never stopped him before. He caught the perpetrator, and he would soon catch this sick bastard too. Still, it seemed like he never caught a break these days.
Speaking of solving this new case, it was much more disturbing than the run-of-the mill bank robbery or stalking cases he was used to. Multiple teens gone missing? No leads? Any hope of peaceful sleep following his previous job well done melted away into the heavy bags under his eyes. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t try though, as he wrote up a reply, saying that we would be in the city within the next two days, then sent his familiar, Skip, off to the mail runner in the main lobby of the Inn he was staying at. After that he went off to bed and attempted drift off to sleep.
The next morning Matt dawned his normal work clothes- subdued colors in his pants, tunic, and leather coat. The coat was very useful as it concealed all of his little gadgets that may raise question to those who are unaware of his occupation. It is also convenient for hiding small weapons like the poison laced dagger he keeps in an inside pocket. (Though he doesn’t typically need it as his spellcasting tends to work just fine in dire situations.)
What the coat does not hide however are his large wings, well large to him, at least. Fairies aren’t really known for their size. His wings are the key feature that distinguishes him from a particularly short wood elf, as he is only about 3 and a half feet in height. It’s good for business, though as it distinguishes him from fellow private detectives.
The journey isn’t long, it only takes him about a day or so. As he enters the village, he spots a wooden sign, partially overtaken with local flora across the lower right corner. Upon closer inspection it reads “Welcome To Hurrikane! Where Fantasy and Fun Come to Life!” He quickly scouts out the area, as the town is not very large.
“So where did they want me to meet with them upon arrival?” he asks himself. He reaches into his coat to pull out the letter and quickly reads back over it. “Let’s see… Ah! Got it! The Sheriff’s office, which should be… There!” He spots the building down the street. It stands about 200 yards away, an off-white building with cracks that climb up the sides of the walls occasionally. The building, by the looks of it is at least 30 years old, maybe more. Skip jumps up onto his shoulder as he enters the building, and the bell on the door jingles as he walks in. Sitting at the front desk is a human woman with dark wavy hair and a tattoo on her right arm. She seems to have been doing some paperwork but upon hearing the bell, she looks up and smiles at him.
“Hello! I’m Rachel, head of Human Resources! Mr. Patrick, correct?” He nods. “We’ve been expecting you! Sheriff Fischbach’s office is right this way. Please follow me.”
She leads him to a small office in the back with a sign above the door that says “Fischbach.” He notices that she has a slight limp. As they are walking toward the room, he looks through the small window to the right of the door and sees a man sitting at a desk seemingly reading over some kind of paper. He seems stressed, as his head is buried in his hands. She knocks on the door twice and a tired sounding, deep voice replies, “Come in.”
“Sheriff, the detective you asked for is here,” she says as we walk in. He looks up and its almost as if he de-ages 20 years in 2 seconds.
“Oh! You’re here earlier than expected! Please, come sit. Thanks Rachel. Before you go, here is another cold case file to look over, murder case from 8 years ago. No leads. Maybe you can work your magic.” She nods as she grabs the file and walks back over to her desk.
As Matt sits down, he gets a better look at the man. The Sheriff is human and seems to be in his late 30’s or early 40’s. His dark hair has some slight splashes of grey here and there, but he seems pretty fit despite his age slowly starting to catch up with him. What confuses, the detective, however, is the interaction that just took place. Why would the head of HR be looking over cold cases?
The sheriff seems to notice this though, as he clarifies, “I bet your curious as to why Rachel is in charge of cold cases?” This seems to catch Matthew by surprise. This Sheriff is very perceptive, a trait he wished was more common among other nearby sheriffs. “Rachel used to be one of the finest damn officers in this town.”
“Used to?” Matt inquired.
The sheriff’s expression turned grim. “Yeah, she might have even taken my job if it wasn’t for the riot of ’87. Before the winged man could ask, the sheriff explained further. “Prison break. We got called out because an unruly prison gang had managed to get their hands on the guard’s weapons. While she was trying to rescue a guard that been taken hostage, some bastard fired a crossbow at her. Bolt hit her in the knee and went straight through and out of the other side. They tried healing magic but the damage was so catastrophic that it didn’t heal correctly. She is supposed to be using a cane to this day but she is too damn stubborn. I wasn’t about to fire one of the most dedicated people in the department so we moved her around so that she could still help however possible.” He paused for a moment but then seemed to remember the purpose of the meeting and continued.
“Anyway! The reason you are here! Over the past week 6 teenagers have all gone missing. Most were travelers, but one was born and raised here. That being Mayor Emily’s daughter, Charlie. She was actually the oldest victim, being 19. They are all different races and genders, as well. Other than age we have yet to find any other connectors, which is why we called you. We have no leads and the longer we wait, the less likely we are to catch this bastard.”
The winged man sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair. Skip hopped down into his lap and purred, rubbing against him. This might be harder than he initially thought.
“How often do travelers wonder into town? Is there any way you can round up all the newcomers that are still here and have been since around the time of the first disappearance? It would be a start. It makes more since for sudden disappearances to come from a new variable versus someone who has already lived here their whole life.”
The sheriff considered this for a moment, before saying, “Normally, that would be a tall tale, as we get lots of performers at the local tavern. It has a reputation for being where many popular performers have gotten their start. One noticeable example of a recent star is Music Man.” This caught Matt’s attention. He loves Music Man. “You’re in luck, though, as most of the travelers skipped town once word of the disappearances spread, not that I blame them. There’s only a handful that I can think of off the top of my head. I can have them in here by morning.”
Matt nodded. He had already began writing down information in a spare notebook he kept in his coat. He looked up inquisitively at the man and asked, “And what is the name of this tavern?”
Mr. Fischbach’s brown eyes widened for a moment before he clarified, “Oh, my apologies, it is called Freddy and Friends.” The man looked at the watch on his wrist and said, “Oh, would you look at the time. It’s getting late, why don’t we pick this up in the morning so that you can get settled in. I will mention that the tavern is 2 streets over if you are interested in going. We have booked you a room at a nearby inn called and have covered the expenses for you as a thank you for your help. You should pass Freddy’s on the way to the inn.”
After saying his goodbyes, Skip jumped back up on Matt’s shoulder and he headed off to the inn. After getting his room ready and setting down his things, he circled back to the nearby tavern.
The smell of food immediately crashed into him as he opened the door. He was then hit by the sounds of music and laughter. His stomach grumbled and reminded him of his lack of proper nutrition. He had skipped breakfast that morning. “Eh, lunch is the more important meal anyway.” He thought. Too bad he had skipped that too. As he walked in Skip’s claws seemed to dig deeper into the skin of his shoulder. He wasn’t a fan of large crowds. “Me neither, buddy.” He said to Skip telepathically. To help soothe Skip, he gave him scratched right behind his ears. He could practically feel his familiar purr. He made his way over to the bar to get some food. As he sat down and leaned against the bar, he felt a sticky spot where someone had spilled their food and not cleaned it up properly. Gross
Suddenly the sound of music seemed to dull for a second. This didn’t last, though, as a voice seemed to cut through the tavern. Everything went quiet. Matt looked toward the front and saw a Satyr with red hair and fur, which, he noted, was an unusual color for Satyrs. Their hair was not long, about shoulder length, and it contrasted with her extremely fair skin. They seemed to be fairly young, maybe around 19. The most striking part about her, though, was their voice. The detective had never heard anything like it. It was then that his food had been served. He had ordered a dish he had never head of before; it consisted of cheese and sauce cooked over a bread base. It was then that the singer finished her performance. He caught that their name was Ash. He was ripped out of his thoughts when someone next to him started speaking.
“You know, that is nothing like the traditional dish. They completely butchered it.” He looked over and saw an elvish woman who looked to be about his age, she had brown hair and dark eyes. He recalled that, when researching the town, he read that there was a small community of wood elves in a nearby forest. Their relationship with Hurrikane was somewhat rocky, however, as the town had been cutting down trees since they opened the local paper factory. What he noticed most, however, was her beauty. He had never seen someone quite so beautiful. He then remembered that he needed to actually say something instead of just staring at her like a weirdo.
“Hi, I’m Matthew Patrick, and, well” he chuckled, “considering I haven’t eaten today, they honestly could have given me just about anything and I would have eaten it. What is your name? Also, I’m assuming this dish is originally of elvish origin?”
She smiled and said, “I’m Stephanie, yes, the traditional version is called Za de Piz con Hot Cheese. It does not use tomato like this monstrosity.” She shuddered at the thought.
“Well as long as it isn’t served with yellow mustard, I would love to try the traditional version. I hate that stuff.” He said with a laugh. It was clearly meant to be an attempt at a joke, but it honestly wasn’t that funny.
“Nope, no mustard.” She said, with a small smile.
He turned his body to face her more directly. “Here’s a question, if you had to drink a spoonful of any condiment, what would it be?” He asked.
She raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the question. “I’m sorry, what?”
“What condiment would you pick?” He repeated.
She thought about it for a second before eventually answering, “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind mustard all that much.”
Matt’s eyes widened as he laughed and said, “Augh! Gross!” She laughed along with him.
After about 10 minutes, Stephanie left, as it was getting pretty late. After she left Matt turned to the bartender and asked for another drink. He noticed that the guy’s nametag said “Dave.”
The guy looked tired but there was an odd emotion behind the guy’s eyes that Matt couldn’t quite decipher. Odd. The guy seemed nice enough though, and said, “I saw you talking to that girl. Are you new around here?”
Matt didn’t want to tell the guy why he was here. It was late and he did not feel like being subjected to small town gossip. “Yeah, I’m traveling for work. I’ll be here for a few days and then I’ll be gone. Speaking of Stephanie, is she a regular?”
The man spoke while cleaning glasses with a rag. “She is new actually, been in town for about a week. I’ve heard she’s from that wood elf community. What’s it called Orgorius or something?”
“Ornarius.” He corrected mentally, recalling it from his research. It was then he realized that she would be one of the suspects in his initial line up. “Oh, God. This is about to get significantly more awkward.”
Before he could reply the man said, “Man that Satyr kid earlier was really something.”
Once again, that strange look in his cloudy blue eyes. Those eyes looked like they’d seen things he could never imagine. “Yeah they were. Are they from here? She seems young, maybe a late teen.”
He smiled widely, “No she’s been here about a week, maybe a little more, same as that elf. With a voice like that she’ll be the next big rising star.”
“Well, I better put this alcohol up since we are closing soon.”
This surprised Matt. It was only 10 pm. Most Taverns didn’t close until after midnight. “Why close so soon?” he asked.
The guy raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t heard? Everywhere in town has been closing early with these disappearances. Not even the mayor’s daughter is safe. One minute she is on stage performing, then she is never seen again. That was 3 days ago, and no one has spotted her since. It scared off most of the performers from out of town too. Such a shame.”
As Dave finished speaking, he got the most expensive alcohol and took it to another room to be stored safely for the night.
While he was gone, Matt’s mind was racing.
“Wait, Charlie was a performer? All the other victims were travelers, and the sheriff said that most of the travelers here came to perform in the famous tavern. I need to find out who those other victims were, but I have a feeling I already know what’s happening here. What all the victims have in common...”
Matt’s eyes widen. “Oh my god. He’s targeting the performers.”