Ephemerae - Part I - Genesis

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Pairings: None
Characters: Allan Salis, Ryan Delaney
Warnings: Language

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: chapter one :

Allan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, impatiently drumming his fingers on the narrow ledge before the St. John hospital receptionist’s window. He’d been waiting at least a good fifteen minutes, and so far neither of the two women in the office behind the window had even looked up to acknowledge his presence. One was speaking on the phone, so Allan grudgingly supposed he could excuse her, but the other was just leafing absently through a manilla folder bound file, a bored expression on her face.
Allan cleared his throat as he glanced irritably at the clock.

“Excuse me?”

The younger woman, the one browsing through the file, glanced up briefly.

“Just a second.” She gave Allan an annoyed look and returned to her reading.

Allan couldn’t believe it. How had this girl gotten a job? God help him if he was actually here on account of an emergency. His already frayed temper snapped, and he quickly fished his wallet out of a pocket and opened it to flash his badge at the girl.

“I’m Detective Salis, from the CCPD. I’d appreciate it if you stopped wasting my time.” He tried his best to keep his tone civil, though it was a struggle. Another argument with his wife Kerry at breakfast that morning had put him in a bad mood before the day had even begun, and the stifling summer’s heat hadn’t done anything to lift his spirits. Still, he’d coped, and when the news of a new lead on the case he was working on came in, he’d even cheered up a little.
Now faced with stuffy hospital and a particularly unhelpful receptionist, Allan’s patience and good humour was wearing thin.

Looking somewhat chastened, the girl set her file aside and moved to the window.

“What can I do for you Detective?”

Allan was pissed that she didn’t apologise for keeping him waiting, but he let it go. It wasn’t worth getting upset over.

“I’m told a Mr Ryan Delaney was admitted a few nights ago? I need to speak with him.”

“Delaney ...” The receptionist muttered to herself as she checked the computer records. “Sure. He’s on the second floor, room seventeen. Visiting hours are almost over though, so you’ll have to make it quick.”

Allan nodded and didn’t bother thanking her. He turned on his heel and strode to the elevator, annoyed when he had to wait for it to reach his floor. When it finally arrived, he stepped inside and rode to the second floor. It wasn’t difficult to find the room he wanted, and he was glad to find only one of the four beds occupied.

The man he had come to see was the latest victim in a series of attacks that had begun three months ago. What set him apart from the others, was that he was the first to survive. Each of the previous victims had either been found dead at the scene, or had died in hospital shortly after.
Murder wasn’t an unusual happening in Capital City, and the attacks had initially seemed unrelated. There was nothing to tie the victims together, and they had been found at random intervals throughout the city. But as the body count rose, it had become clear to the police that they were dealing with a serial killer. All the victims carried the same marks on their bodies - bruises, shallow cuts and ragged gouges in the skin that could only have been caused by someone’s fingernails. Most were also found with broken bones, usually ribs, and all showed signs of having been raped.
The only thing that linked the victims to one another was their physical appearance. They were all young men with black hair and green eyes. There was nothing else. Nationality, religion, employment, social status, nothing else seemed to be a factor.
As the months wore on and the killings continued, the police were still no closer to finding the murderer. There was always little evidence to be found at the crime scenes, and there were never any witnesses. Until now.

Allan slipped behind the privacy screen and sat down on a chair beside the occupied bed. The man lying there had his eyes closed and appeared to be sleeping. His face was riddled with scratches; some shallow and superficial, others deep enough to need stitches. The rest of his body was covered, but Allan could guess well enough the state it would be in.
He spent a moment watching Ryan sleep, noting the black hair and the youthful features. Even with his eyes closed, Allan knew exactly what colour they would be. He wondered if maybe he should come back later, not wanting to wake the injured man.
But even as Allan began to rise, a soft voice spoke from the bed.

“Are you going to tell me who you are, or just sit there staring at me?” Green eyes cracked open, watching Allan tiredly.

“I’m sorry to disturb you Mr Delaney, -”

“Call me Ryan.”’

“Ryan.” Allan cleared his throat. “I’m Detective Allan Salis, I was hoping to ask you about your attacker.”

Ryan snorted.

“Since when do the cops give a fuck about a whore bashing?”

“I’ve reason to believe this is something more than that.” Allan was aware that Ryan worked as a prostitute. It was why news of the attack had taken three days to reach him. Prostitutes who worked the streets were beaten all the time, and it was only because the marks on Ryan’s body matched those of the murders that his case had drawn attention. “So humour me.”

“What d’you mean, something more?” Ryan frowned and shifted uncomfortably in his bed.

“I’m assuming you read the news. Your injuries match up those of the victims of the serial killings of the last few months. If you’ve had a run in with the murderer, I need to know everything you remember.”

“Wow ...” Eyes widened a little. “I hadn’t even thought of that. But I’ve got the right looks, don’t I.” Ryan smirked. “I guess this guy’s got a fetish for black hair and green eyes. Sucks to be me, huh.”

“No, you’re damn lucky to be alive!” Allan snapped. “Now, can you tell me what he looked like?”

Ryan frowned again, trying to remember.

“It was kind of dark, I didn’t get a good look at him. I remember ... He was real pale. Like, white. Skinny too, and fast. Um, blonde hair I think. I dunno, it was dark and I was too busy getting the shit beat out of me to take notes.”

Allan looked up from the notepad he’d produced when he was done writing Ryan’s description. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was more than they’d had thus far.

“Did he say anything to you?”

Ryan began to shake his head, then paused to actually think about it.

“Yeah ... Though he was talking to himself most of the time. Crazy fucker if you ask me.”

“What did he say?” Allan prompted.

“He accused me of lying to him. Got really pissed when I didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. That’s when he started ranting to himself and tearing up my face.” Ryan grimaced at the memory and raised a bandaged hand to rub his eyes. The hand trembled ever so slightly.

“Is there anything else you remember? Anything at all.”

“No.” Ryan sighed. “After he’d fucked me good and proper he took off. Guess he didn’t want to pay.” He gave a dry chuckle.

Allan didn’t smile. He tapped his pen a few times against the pages of his notebook, then put them both away. He didn’t know what he’d been hoping for. Some fantastic piece of information that would enable him to catch the bad guy, wrap up the case and still be home in time for dinner. Unfortunately, he’d been working this job long enough to know that it was never that easy.

“Thankyou for your help. Once you’re released from hospital I’ll need you to come down to the station and make a formal statement. Until then, here’s my card. Call me if you remember anything else.” Allan stood and placed his business card on the table beside the bed.

“No problem Detective.” Ryan gave a mock salute. Allan was almost out the door when he suddenly remembered something his attacker had said. “Wait!”

“What?”

“He said something else. I don’t know if it’ll be any use to you, but I think it was a name. Lunar.”

Lunar ... Allan repeated the name in his mind, then nodded to Ryan.

“Thanks. I hope you recover quickly.”