Poison City

An afternoon in the precinct behind a desk proved more difficult for Marcus, not just because his having to put on a facade of not physically impaired so as to avoid his colleagues probing him about his "accident", but also because like many detectives especially in this precinct, paperwork was a bane he had to endure. Captain Ko was apparently very swift in his arrangement of keeping him desk-bound, as Sabrina Miller, Captain Ko’s assistant, came by right after his meeting with Kevin and dropped off a pile of paperwork for him to finish.

But the afternoon was not entirely wasted, as he also took the chance to read through some of the case files he didn't get a chance to on the emergency reparations team. The current state of the investigation, at least according to the case files he read, was that none of the victims that lived in the South-Western District had any known enemies. Most of them, just like the stereotype about people who lived in that district, were somewhat boring, middle class individuals who enjoyed hiking, dog walking, doing volunteer work on the side and going on occasional wine tastings and had relatively small social cycles. The wife of the one worker who lived in the South-Eastern District actually came to the Precinct late afternoon the day before and identified the body. She did not say much to any of the officers or detectives, but she agreed to doing a follow up interview to answer questions.

In short - they found almost no useful lead so far, which would be quite a bad thing for everyone in this precinct, with the city pressing on this issue and the precinct itself being strapped with all kinds of resources. But with the recent experience, Marcus started searching on social media about Blood Rainbows just on a hunch, in an attempt to see if there was any indication that the brutal massacre at the ill-fated substation was related to the paranormal. 

There was quite a lot of information about Blood Rainbows, apparently. But just as Marcus expected, the information could be found from various different but similarly gossipy sources, none of which seem authoritative at all; what was more was that a lot of the information seemed either copy-pasted with only a few alterations for clickbait, or overly convoluted and contradicting to information from other sources, sometimes even to the source itself.

On the other end, the search for whatever happened 15 years ago turned out to be much more difficult. And the reason was simple, 15 years ago, neither the city or the then still newly founded community collective of the South-Eastern District had adopted wide digitization of files, which meant that should he want to look into it, he would have to head to the city and community collective archive and apply for access to these files, which in turn meant navigating through some time consuming hoops and red tapes. 

Detective Shrevas and Detective Lance ended up not returning to the Precinct by the end of the day like he had hoped, so Marcus had to check in with them another time.

The bus ride home seemed more stressful, slower and for some unknown reason, more noisy than usual. It might have been due to the pain he was feeling, Marcus thought to himself.

It took another 15 minutes for him to get back to his apartment - the usual road, which would only take him 10 minutes normally, became a lot more difficult to traverse with injuries and possibly toxic remnants in his body. By the time he reached the door, he was already panting like a dog.

“Son, where were you last night?” His father pulled the door open and asked with a relief and bags below his eyes: “I called you a few dozen times. I called your precinct last night, and they didn’t say anything.”

“It’s okay, Dad. Sorry for not calling earlier. ” Marcus walked into the apartment and sighed: “I was caught up in a case and left my phone somewhere. And it ended up broken, so I’ll get a new one tomorrow. Sorry to have worried you.”

“No, no, as long as you are fine, then I’m good.” Elvin sighed: “Come in, take a break, I’ll heat up dinner. Being a detective really is stressful, huh?”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Marcus chuckled and sat down on the sofa slowly: “I need a break, my back’s killing me with all the sitting.”

“On it. I’ll bring it over in a big bowl.” Elvin nodded and rushed into the kitchen.

Marcus paid additional attention to his father while he was in the kitchen, scrambling to reheat his dinner. It was not that he did not want to see his father happy, or active, or caring about him. But this change was way too sudden and had almost no prior indications. And now, with Marcus’ being compelled to give the paranormal world more consideration, he could not help but be wary of the “reason” for this change: his father’s dreams, where he saw his mother for the first time in 15 years.

“Ta-da! Soft Drink Chicken.” Elvin put a large plate of chicken covered in thick, dark brown sauce along with a small bowl of rice and a pair of chopsticks: “Your favorite when you were a kid. I remember you fuzzing about it at least twice a week. I gave it some practice, and I believe I’ve recaptured the magical recipe your mother had.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Marcus picked a piece of the chicken and put it in his mouth - he still remembered this dish because like his father said, it was one of his childhood favorites, which should be cooked with a meticulously calculated portions of soy sauce and a dark, caffeine-infused soft drink and thus have a good mix of sweet and salty taste. And the taste this chicken had - was almost cooked to perfection, which earned Elvin an impressed look from Marcus. “This is really good, Dad, how did you do it? After all - you know, it’s been years.”

“Oh yeah, funny thing - I dreamed about your mother again.” Elvin scratched the back of his head with a wide and somewhat dorky smile: “Just the night before the last, I dozed off when I was watching TV. And in that dream, we were just spending the weekend together, and your mother told me her recipe, even some of her tips and tricks - funny, huh?”

“Wait, Dad.” Marcus stopped his chopsticks and looked his father in the eye: “Did you even know how to make it before this dream?”

“That’s the magical thing!” Elvin almost laughed out loud: “I don’t! Not really! Or at least I think I don’t - gosh, I don’t even remember how to cook a lot of the things I used to. It’s just - it’s just so much - you know - ”

“Yeah I know Dad.” Marcus thought for a brief moment, then nodded: “And enough about me Dad, how are you feeling? Did you eat?”

“Yeah, yeah, I ate earlier. You go ahead and finish it all.” Elvin shook his head: “And when you’re done, go to bed and rest, leave the dishes to me. I know how much back pain sucks. You need a lot of rest. Go to work later if you can, huh? Bad punks are still gonna commit crime even if you’re on time all the time.”

“Okay.” Marcus sighed: “Thank you, Dad. But I do have one question, if you have a moment.”

“Oh, of course, what is it?”

Marcus hesitated with how best to bring this question up right now: “Um, Dad, do you realize this is quite unusual? I mean, I’ve never - ”

“Oh yeah. I know, I know, son.” Elvin interrupted Marcus, shaking his head: “I absolutely do. You know, son, I have been a useless and dreadful drunk for too many years. Even with my mind and intellect not as they used to be, I can tell that this is far from normal. But - I want to see where this goes, and I want to enjoy this very journey if I can. And I hope I can be more help to you through it.”

“Dad, believe me, I am very far from being an expert or even remotely qualified to talk about this.” Marcus put down his bowl and chopsticks: “But I don’t have to be, to know that this kind of thing could be dangerous. So, be careful, okay?”

“Of course, son.” Elvin patted Marcus on the shoulder: “I still have you.”

His father’s hand and arm were warm, steady and firm, unlike what Marcus expected from someone who had been drowning in alcohol for years. This could be a sign that Marcus was unnecessarily concerned. But, erring on the side of caution, he felt that he should still keep an eye out. He had plenty of time before he needed to go into actions anyway.