Chapter Text
Rain beats down heavily on the concrete, leaving dark splatters against normally pale gray rock. Three figures stalk quietly up a set of wet apartment stairs, aiming for the very top.
The roof.
The leader, gun drawn, pointed down to the ground, motions for his comrades to go first, a silent command splaying on his lips. Quiet .
The door is already cracked open, leaving ample room to squeeze through for the three. They file through one at a time, the leader giving a glance back down the steps. There’s no one there, but he still feels nervous, and it shows in the furrow of his brow and the frown on his lips.
Finally, he follows.
They step onto the roof, blocking off the exit fully, guns raised toward a figure at the other end of the flat expanse. The leader calls out, “There’s nowhere left to go, Woods! Just give up and come with us!”
The hooded figure pauses for a moment, slowly turning to look at the three agents. He reaches his hands up slowly, tugging his hood down, freeing his greasy, straggly hair from its confines. Though the rain is pouring down around them, soaking their clothes, none of the people seem to notice.
His grin is wide, with unhealed wounds cut into his face to give him a permanent smile. In the singular light placed on the roof, he almost looks as if he’s got a complexion, as if his skin isn’t stark white.
But it’s all just an illusion.
Just like he is.
In a split second, he’s gone, right before reappearing behind the leader of the agents, stabbing him through the throat. Blood spurts from the wound as the knife is removed, only to be immediately forced into the back of one of the other’s skulls; the last remaining person on the roof aside from Jeff backs up, eyes wide with terror, staring down at the gory mess made of his boss and coworker.
He doesn’t get a chance to scream.
“That’s stupid! Jeff can’t teleport!” a blonde snaps towards the T.V. “Only I can do that! And Slender Man, but that’s like, his thing!”
“But isn’t he cute all bloody like that?! Shh! Just watch! I promise, it’s so good!” A girl with dark raven hair responds, bow bobbing as she speaks.
Both focus back on the television.
“Agent Hawke, I’m giving you this case because I think you can handle it. Your academy scores were exemplary, and I expect great things from you.” Glenn Hawke’s superior pushes a thick manilla folder into his palms, which he takes, nearly vibrating with excitement. “ However , if you cannot handle it, I expect you to tell me right away. I will not have your blood on my hands.”
“I can handle it, Agent Micheals.” Hawke nods, taking a deep breath to try and curb his glee. He needed to be serious. “I know we always have paper copies of cases… but are there not any digital copies for this one?”
“No. Your target is a special breed, and every single time we digitize a file on him, it corrupts and deletes itself. Whatever information you learn must be paper only.” Agent Micheals says sternly, “now, if that is all–get to work. Don’t be afraid to ask for whatever you need.”
“Understood.” Hawke dips his head, leaving his boss’s office with a grin fighting its way onto his face.
Two of his coworkers stand by, watching him walk past.
“The boss is gonna get the greenie killed.”
“Maybe he’s hoping the poor bastard will just give up and go to white collar crimes.”
They both snort, and though Hawke hears, he doesn’t give them the time of day. He settles at his desk, content to work through the file until his mind goes numb. And there is… so, so much information.
By the end of the day, Hawke has his cheek supported in his palm, barely half way through the file. If he wanted to make any headway in this case, he’d have to take it home and work on it. With a yawn, he closes the folder and packs up, clocking out.
His apartment is silent as he walks in, dropping his work bag on his plush couch. With a sigh, he clicks on the light, illuminating the room. Though the apartment is beautiful, it’s painfully bare and lonely; much too big for one person.
He loosens his tie and unbuttons his suit, letting it slide off of his shoulders and fall on the ground. He’d worry about it later. He was so tired, the closest thing he could get to before collapsing was his couch, resting his head on the armrest, one arm hanging limply off the side.
“If this doesn’t get better in the next five minutes, I’m frying your electronics.” BEN threatens, giving Nina a glare from across the couch.
“Fine! I’ll just skip to the best part!” Nina snaps back, grabbing the remote and scrolling forward to the point where the pilot gets good , “But you’re gonna regret it later when you have to rewatch the entire thing!”
“Sure I am,” the ghost replies sarcastically, watching the screen skip.
Hawke is thrown to the ground, a knife coming down inches from his head. He grips his attacker’s wrist tightly, trying to prevent them from pulling it from the ground, back above his head. “You son of a bitch!”
“Aren’t I?” the amused rasp came from the hooded figure on top of the FBI agent, his other palm on the side of Hawke’s face, trapping him in–
“Why does this look so fucking gay, Nina? Did you just convince me to watch some amateur’s porno?”
“No! Shut the fuck up!!!!”
–despite the agent’s attempt to keep Jeff’s wrist to the concrete, it was futile. The knife is pulled back up, glinting in the light of the street lamps, and Hawke’s pupils dilate with fear, quiet pants escaping his throat.
His first mission and already he was going to die.
His eyes shift to the ground beside him, hand snapping out to grasp a rock as the knife comes slicing down toward his face, ready to carve him up like a Thanksgiving turkey. Hawke slams the rock into the side of Jeff’s head with as much force as he could muster, knocking the killer off of him, scrambling away.
His heart pounding, he watches as the hooded man’s head bobs, a shiver running through his body from cold, hard rage. “I’m gonna fuckin’ carve you to bits,” the man rumbles, “and I’m gonna make it nice ‘n’ slow, just for that. I’ll start with your legs, and work my way up. And you won’t die ‘til I’m finished with you…” His voice ignites a new level of fear in Hawke’s psyche, a tremor running through the agent’s fingers.
He had to get away from this crazy motherfucker–and now. If he wanted to continue the case after that, he could.
But he couldn’t if he was dead .
“Unfortunately, I have–uh, a prior engagement.” His voice shakes, though his words are a playful quip. “Can we reschedule?”
And the killer laughs. He lifts his head, blood running down the side of his face, pupils simply pinpricks, gaze as dark as a storm over the sea. “No.” He flashes his knife again, lunging for Hawke with a speed no human should ever possess.
Hawke slams his head into Jeff’s chest, taking the chance to rush by him, fleeing; blood and dirt crusts his face as he takes off into the darkness, leaving his ID lying on the ground.
Jeff winces, pushing himself to his feet, cursing the stupid agent before his eyes land on the black wallet on the ground. A grin spreads across his face as he leans down to pick it up, fingers running over the leather edges before opening it up.
“Agent Glen Hawke…” The killer stuffs it in his hoodie pocket, leaning against the edge of the alleyway, looking down the street in the direction his newest target ran off in. “I’ll see you again. Very soon.”
BEN swallowed, having eaten his own words. He was on the edge of his fucking seat. “Holy shit.”
“Right?! It’s sooo good, and oh–the actors are all so handsome! Did you hear the way Glen squeaks? I wonder what noise he’d make if you cut him open!!” Nina giggled, gripping onto the edge of her skirt. “The next episode comes out next week. I can’t wait!”
The two preteens were so wrapped up in their conversation that they didn’t notice Jeff approaching from the front door. “That sucked.” He grumbled, “that bastard is not as hot as me. I have half a mind to go give him a real smile.”
Nina gasps, spinning around. “You will not! Not until the season’s over! We need to find out what happens next!”
The episode’s credits play, leaving a large image of Glen Hawke and his killer on screen, both looking confident and covered in blood. Jeff raises an eyebrow. No, he really couldn’t see the resemblance. It was what people thought he looked like, sure. But it wasn’t him.
“Fine. Have your weird fangirl-fanboy marathon. Just don’t drag me into it.” the killer snorts, flipping the two off as he walks toward the kitchen.
“Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t understand how cool it is to have a show made in his honor.” Nina sighs, “I’d love to meet them in person.”
“Who, the actors?” Ben asks, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Because they’re awesome! Look, come watch their interviews with me…” She grabs his arm, pulling him close, so they’re both peering over her phone.
>Play video.