Conticent

Hopping into my car, I rested my head on the steering wheel, letting my arms drape over it. Through the rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of the reporters still gathered at the front of the police station. They crowded near the entrance, their cameras ready, eyes scanning for anyone they could question. A few were pacing restlessly, while others stood in tight groups, discussing the latest updates. I was parked in a narrow alley behind the station, shielded from the media frenzy by a row of tall, unmarked buildings.

A soft drizzle had begun, misting the windshield as the clouds overhead darkened. The street beyond the alley was mostly deserted, the city’s early evening lights flickering to life. The faint glow from distant street lamps reflected off the wet pavement, creating a quiet, almost serene atmosphere compared to the chaos just around the corner.

I lit a cigarette and leaned back in the seat, exhaling a slow stream of smoke through the cracked window. My phone rested on the passenger seat, already tuned to the news radio. With my hair falling over my eyes, most of my vision was obscured, leaving only a clear view of my left hand, the dark blue glove concealing the burn scar beneath.

“What a mess…” I muttered to myself. “Living together in peace, huh?”

The radio crackled to life, and I adjusted the volume as the familiar voices of the two news anchors filled the car.

“Hello, people of West Antapolis. Today is the first day of November. 2097 is just around the corner, isn’t it, Orakimo?”

“Sure is! Can you believe it? But honestly, 2096 wasn’t a great year for me. So much happened in such a short time!”

“Oh, was? You’re talking like the year’s already over. We’ve still got some days left to go, you know.”

“Well, maybe for us, but not for the poor souls who’ve fallen to wraiths this year. Speaking of, have you heard about the hostage situation in Kiruha District? Right on Bark-Bark Street?”

“Yeah, I just finished watching Helion’s press conference about it. Can you imagine? A wraith kidnapping a young woman and a man in broad daylight, demanding blood and money? It’s unreal.”

“District Captain Helion’s been promising a future—some kind of world where wraiths and humans can live in peace. What do you think of that?”

“I don’t know, man. That future feels... distant, doesn’t it? Vampires can survive on blood, sure, and even manage with animals. But wraiths? They need human flesh to live. How do we coexist with creatures like that?”

“Yeah, the million-dollar question.” I muttered, flicking the cigarette butt out the window and rolling it up.

As the phone rang, I turned on the car and checked the screen. Jane, one of my partners, was calling. I put the car in reverse, answered the call, and adjusted the rearview mirror, checking the road. I hated driving, and of course, in this district, the police stations were the only ones without AI driving systems. What a joke.

“C?” Jane's voice came through. “Where are you? I’m at Golden Cats.”

“On my way.”

“Alright, you got your service pistol with you?”

“Yeah. Why?” I asked, shifting into drive.

She paused for a moment before replying. “Just in case. I’ll be waiting.”

“Got it. James and Leo with you?”

“No,” she said. “They’re stuck in traffic.”

“Hmm. Okay, I’ll call when I’m close.”

“Oh, James is calling… Anyways, see ya.”

I drove past the reporters, grabbing another cigarette and lighting it before tossing the lighter onto the seat. West Antapolis had the most unpredictable weather—a downpour one minute, snow the next, followed by scorching sunshine. But having grown up here, I’d gotten used to it. That big chaotic weather pattern had become just another small quirk of the city.

I stopped at a red light, resting my hands on my lap. In front of me was a roundabout, and beyond that, a towering 78-story hotel, its glass windows reflecting the neon ads from the bustling street below. Thankfully, there wasn’t much traffic in this part of town. Driving without an AI in West Antapolis’ traffic was a nightmare.

“James Hue is calling,” the car’s robotic female voice announced.

“Answer.”

“Hey, C. You at Golden Cats yet?” James’ voice came through the speakers.

“Not yet. You guys still caught in traffic?”

“Actually, no.” He hesitated. “At first, we thought it was traffic… but it’s not. There’s been a homicide.”

“A homicide?” I asked, watching the light, still waiting for it to turn green.

“Yeah, looks like a wraith attack. The victim has fang marks on her neck. Jane’s heading here already.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re in Kiruha, Polished Street. I’ll send you the location.”

“Got it,” I said, turning on my sirens and hitting the gas, ignoring the red light. “Be there in five.”

The walkie-talkie on my belt crackled to life. “Officer Cratehalaña Vann,” the AI spoke in a firm, professional tone. “A homicide has been reported on Polished Street. The cause of death appears to be a wraith attack. My system has detected that you, James Hue, and Leo Adams are the nearest units. Please respond to the scene immediately.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, making a sharp U-turn. “Already on it.”

—

Crime scene tape lined the area, police car sirens flashing, casting harsh red and blue glows against the dark, wet street. A crowd of curious onlookers had gathered, some questioning the officers while others murmured to each other in hushed tones. The murder had taken place right outside a popular football stadium, and with a match currently underway, the atmosphere was unusually crowded, the roar of cheering fans echoing in the background.

I parked my car on the sidewalk, the only available space, and stepped out, pulling my coat tighter as the wind whipped rain against my face. The forensics team was already at work, their equipment reflecting off the slick pavement. Ahead of me, James and Leo stood near the victim, both looking up as I approached. James, a cigarette hanging between his fingers, gave a wave.

“C! Over here.”

“On my way.”

I flashed my ID at the officer near the tape and ducked underneath it, moving slowly as the blare of car horns filled the air. Traffic was completely backed up, snarled due to the crime scene sprawled across the road.

“What’s up, C?” James asked, taking another drag from his cigarette. “You got here quick.”

“I was at the station. Captain wanted me nearby for his speech,” I explained.

James, with his small face, crooked nose, and short brown hair, looked as weary as ever despite only being in his mid-thirties. His blue eyes matched the color of his jacket, and the lines etched into his face told the story of more than a decade handling cases involving wraiths and vampires. Life had clearly taken its toll on him.

“Yeah, I saw that,” Leo chimed in with a grin. “You looked like a statue, just standing there all stiff. I thought they’d photoshopped you or something.”

“Har-har,” I replied, unamused. “Who’s the victim?”

Leo, by contrast, was the opposite of James. Also in his mid-thirties, but looking much younger, Leo had a certain charm. His long, curly hair was always carefully styled, and his skin practically glowed even in the dim light—thanks to his rigorous skincare routine. He wasn’t stunningly handsome, but he had an easy, approachable look and a knack for talking himself out of trouble.

James flicked his cigarette to the side. “No ID on her. She’s not in our system either.”

“Illegal immigrant?” I asked, crouching to examine the body.

“Most likely,” he said, exhaling smoke.

I looked closely at the woman lying on the rain-soaked pavement. Her clothes were torn, and some of her fingernails were broken, likely from a struggle. Not wanting to dirty my glove, I used my walkie-talkie to pull aside her collar, revealing two distinct fang marks on her neck. Something about the bite marks felt off.

“The bite marks are strange,” I muttered.

Leo squatted beside me, frowning. “Yeah, they’re too far apart. And way deeper than usual.”

I nodded and scanned the rest of her injuries. Gunshot wounds. A single 9mm round to the chest, close to the heart, and two more in the legs. The blood trail on the pavement told me she’d either crawled or had been dragged a meter or so before succumbing to her injuries.

“Any witnesses?” I asked, standing up.

James nodded, tossing his cigarette. “Multiple people saw someone in a hoodie fleeing the scene. No one saw the killer’s face, though.”

“Of course,” I sighed. “Did anyone see which way they went?”

“Toward the stadium,” James replied. “The bastard shot four police officers near the entrance.”

“They alive?”

“Yeah,” Leo grumbled. “Drunk, though. Useless bastards were drinking on the job. At least they survived.”

“So, the killer's inside the stadium now?” I glanced at the massive structure, hearing the fans still chanting inside.

“Yep,” Leo said with a grimace. “We’re pulling footage from the cameras, but I’m not optimistic. Too easy to blend into that crowd.”

"And we also can't lock down a stadium with at least 85,000 people inside and check them one by one," James added, frustration seeping through his voice. "What a damn mess."

"We should evacuate the stadium," I said. "People aren't safe with a murderer among them."

A police officer approached the crime scene tape. "Sir, we have new information. An eyewitness said the suspect went into the stadium with another woman after killing this victim."

"Shit—" James muttered. "They might be partners."

"No, sir," the officer replied. "The eyewitness said the woman was screaming, 'Help me, he's going to kill me too.'"

"Shit," Leo said. "We gotta move. Now!"

"Get more units to the stadium," James ordered to the officer.

"Yes, sir."

The three of us ducked under the crime scene tape and rushed toward the stadium, drawing our service pistols loaded with silver bullets. Curious fans gathered nearby, their chatter mixed with discussions about the game, oblivious to the unfolding situation.

As we stepped through the metal detector, it blared with alarms due to our weapons, but we pressed on. The killer’s intention wasn’t to hide; he was after another target. Or perhaps he was a wraith, driven mad and attacking anyone in his path. The bite marks on the victim's neck raised doubts. They were too far apart, suggesting something was amiss.

"I'm too old for this shit," James muttered.

Leo chuckled. "Same, man. Same."

"Dispatch, this is 45-40," I said, my walkie-talkie in hand. "We request more units at the Kuriha football stadium. A suspect is among the fans. Can you tell me when the game is going to end?"

"45-40, the game will end… let me check… in about ten minutes," the dispatcher replied. "Is there a 10-80V situation?"

"Not V, probably a wraith. 10-80W. We're chasing him down. What’s the ETA on those units?"

"Ten minutes. Traffic is jammed."

"Hmm…" I muttered, putting the walkie-talkie back on my belt. "What’s the plan, guys?"

"Don’t fire your weapon unless you’re sure you’ll hit the target," James advised. "The stadium is full of people. We don’t want to hurt innocents."

"Got it."

As we climbed the stairs toward the end of the corridor, a security guard stopped us, checking his wristwatch. We didn’t have time to waste.

"You can’t enter," the guard said. "The match will end in ten minutes. It’s forbidden to—"

"Police," James interjected, showing his ID. "We have a suspect among the fans. Wanted for murder. Possibly a wraith."

"You two check the stadium," Leo suggested. "I’ll hang back, check for the restrooms."

"Okay," I replied. "Let’s go, James."

"Right behind you, C."