Dangerous, Diabolical
Chapter 2 - Dead Bodies

Cushiony soft cotton embraced me in a cocoon of bliss that was bed. Slumbering the morning away was my sole aim until I was forced to slave away in the fluorescent lighting of food shelves. So when I was awoken to a very rude, unapologetic doorbell ring, I, of course, ignored it.

Wiggling my toes and pulling the duvet under my chin in a disgruntled sigh, I tried to resume being in an unconscious utopia. Despite my best efforts to dissuade unwelcoming visitors on the property, I’d additionally placed an extensive list on my door of all the reasons I would not be answering it. If they were; religious sects, cold-callers, charities, broken down, looking for a lost item or simply ‘I’m not selling anything, but...’ people, then they were wasting their time. The large steak eaten last night had removed my pressing hunger so there wasn’t any need to talk to any human.

Persistently, the doorbell rang again.

And then again.

And then again. Followed by a knock.

Groaning, with a few muttered obscenities I threw off the covers before stumbling out of my room in a half-lidded daze. A biting, crisp chill, hung in the air as central heating was far too expensive and the lit fire had gone out. Prickling goosebumps broke out down my back and I hopped across the cold floor trying to locate my slippers, and failing. A few more diligent knocks wracked, causing me to clench my jaw and give in attempting to warm my feet, heading for the door and wrenching it open instead. The glare of daylight burst in just as a new doorbell trill began.

This gave me a moment to assess the man standing at the door for the duration of the jovially obnoxious chimes that played out their melodically depressing sequence.

Very few humans leave an impression on me. For one, they all looked boringly similar. Without a power signature, it was very difficult to differentiate them. They mostly carried the same scent; cleaning products, transport fumes, sex and milk. Whereas those in the community smelt more like their real selves over their human disguises, therefore it was more fun to try and tell them apart. They were usually individually distinguishable by an uncommon trait.

With the first impression I quickly brushed this male off as another human. He carried the boring cleaning products smell and petrol fumes - no sex though - what a boring evening he must have had. His rough stubble was breaking through a clean shaved chin from the morning.

No fun at night, and he was early to rise? What a nightmare.

He was tall and slender, yet not bulky as there was some lean muscle, his suit shirt was tucked in against a trim waist.

Establishing the best impression of having literally anything else better to do, I glowered at him. He was on my territory and had completely ruined my morning. If he sensed my annoyance it wasn’t obvious. He softly raised a thick inquisitive eyebrow, his dark eyes meeting mine - and not flinching.

My brain narrowed in on my predator genes and fired them at him in an assault of BE AFRAID HUMAN vibes, with an added grumpy morning flavour to scare him away extra quickly. When he didn’t even flinch, I struggled to be the one not to take a step back. First, the guy last night refused to turn tail and run, and now this one? What were they putting in the water these days?

He didn’t break out in a sweat; not even a twitch, not even a tremble. I was glad my hands resided on either side of the door frame so it hid the slipping control over my human guise. My nails were beginning to look more like claws every second. It was impossible that I could be losing my edge, so why was this human not afraid? Heart quickening I wasn’t sure whether to suppress a gulp or a growl.

His sinewy limbs meant he had to be a runner. Hard to scare, fun to hunt and most of all seemed to be travelling alone - this was the human I’d show Willow for winter Solstice - it would be a challenge to build fear in him, breaking him slowly, making him scream for mercy. My teeth began to sharpen behind my lips.

A soft breeze carried another scent into the room. Dusky fur, knotted with bracken. Blueberries, large old oak trees. With a deep inhale it was as if we were standing in a thunderstorm, lashings of rain, the clap of magical spells being cast.

It smelt of prey; deer and rabbit yet neither, was he something else entirely? Saliva almost began pooling out of my mouth. The human disguise was almost flawless, down to the dark eyes and soft eyelashes. He even knew enough to fake a human scent and could do it successfully. If it wasn’t for the fact his magic drew from the storms, opposite to the heat of a warm summer’s day, his power signature may have remained undetected enough to have slipped past mine. Now, the deeper I inhaled, the more fake it seemed. It was too good. Standard human scents could be picked apart, such as cleaning products; the lemon was too overpowering for the chemicals, and he didn’t have a sour smell of what had been cleaned. There was no breakdown of mould or fats lingering.

So he must be dual-natured. I could smell something furry, but it wasn’t an animal I knew. Mentally I pencilled a trip in to visit the zoo sometime. Not all creatures of magic could hold a human form, let alone draw on the power required to hold a consecutive spell to mask any trace of it.

My interest was piqued by such an unusual ability. He would be a worthy opponent. What sort of heritage did he have to balance such a mix?

Logic dictated now was the best time to bonk him on the head and eat, but my instincts pointed at this being something else. There was only one organisation where someone turned up on your doorstep in a suit, and where creatures this unusual were useful employees; the SPCC, Supernatural Policies and Control Council.

And there was only one reason they’d be at my door. That stupid weirdo human from last night. They’d found his body and they knew I’d been there. For the first time in nearly a century, I was unsure. Was he going to haul me away? Would I be killed seconds from now? Imprisoned for an eternity?

Without waiting for a new thought - emitting a startled squeak - I slammed the door shut.

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