He looked like a man but spoke like a child. Trisha saw no point in arguing with Joe; if he wanted to be the contrarian, she’d leave him to his own devices. She owed him nothing, least of all a reply to his pointless outburst, predictable as it might have been. Evidently he had never known the yoke of authority, or at least had chafed under it for the entirety of his ill-conceived life. That’s how he ended up the crook he was in the first place. [i]It’s painful, Joe; but sometimes, other people do know better than you[/i].

She blinked a few times, waiting for anyone to muster the common sense to agree with her and ask to be escorted outside. Nothing ever came; the closest she got was Alex, who had shuffled closer to her but said nothing. Perhaps she was too frightened to speak up? Even without the occult nonsense going on, it would have been a tense situation: a tough-looking thug threatening to snap, and a crazed-sounding old timer who already had snapped by the looks of things. Best to cut her losses, she figured; there was no sign that these people were in actual danger, and she was just offering to take them out as a nice gesture. Her main interest was and remained going home.

“Looks like that’s it – hey?” Trisha was about to address Alex when she noticed that the girl had slipped through the doorway and was standing still in the hall – unnaturally still. The detective could spot the gentle shiver in the twitch of her fingers and the quivering of her lips. She stared at something, wild-eyed, before stumbling back into the room. She still did not speak a word, and simply pushed herself behind Trisha, holding onto her coat like a frightened child. She decided that she was not feigning it.

“What’s wrong? Is someone there?” she asked over her shoulder, trying to sound comforting but unable to shake the intrinsic coldness that seemed to permeate her every word. McCoy? Who else could it be? Why would they scare her so? Were they armed? Had McCoy gotten a gun? Or simply turned out to be a madman, perhaps finding a knife or a pair of scissors? If guns were involved, she had to be extremely careful – but, more importantly, she had to be in the know and find out. The only thing worse than a confirmed gun was an unknown element of threat.

“Let me look,” she said to Alex, gently and briefly squeezing her shoulder. Alex’s gaze had been towards the right of the exit, so that’s where the danger was. Trisha emerged into the hallway, shining her bright white smart phone screen towards the gloomy end of the hall.

The lizard brain reacted before the human one. Her blood froze, her heart skipped a few beats. Fight or flight. Like Alex before her, she stared at the inhuman monstrosity, half-way illuminated by light from the front and the back. She could not help but notice that same quiver on her lower lip. She thought she’d gotten rid of that long ago. Old habits died hard. Fight or flight? Maybe this was it. She had finally gone insane for real. Years of mental and physical abuse, inflicted by none other than herself, finally caught up with her. Wait, maybe it was the candles. Hallucinogenic? Yes, that could explain – No, it didn’t add up. Alex had seen it. Reacted the same way, looked at the same place. Could not be a coincidence. Shared hallucination? Too farfetched, even for candles with a strange oriental smell. Maybe, maybe – a prop? A costume?

Anything?

Panicked hopes were dashed when it howled like a buzz saw; a fierce screech that penetrated glass and bone. She saw no mouth. Fight or flight? Fight or – Fuck you, lizard. There were people to protect. This was her god damn job. She was not going to turn tail and run like a little girl. But the thing was already moving in her direction, albeit slowly – its every motion a disturbing twitch that evoked the dying spasms of road kill more than it did a wholesome, living thing. She had to be fast.

“Listen up civilians!” she yelled into the room, keeping her light and eyes peeled on the thing whose aspect dragged her deeper and deeper into a dark mire. “There’s someone dangerous in this building! For your own safety, I need all of you to form a line and evacuate the premises [i]right now![/i]”

Her tone of voice was stern and commanding; she left no room for doubt. “No dallying! Get out, take the staircase, get onto the street. Now! Move, move!”

With her free hand, she fumbled in the inside of her cloak and pulled out a sleek, black gun.

“Whoever you are, stay back and identify yourself!” she warned the creature, training her gently shaking barrel on it. It did not occur to her how ridiculous her demand was, given the situation.