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[Carlie]
Considering that Miss Edith doesn't come from a wealthy family, her house is truly impressive. The property is large for a building that isn't a mansion, so the backyard is also huge, with its neatly trimmed grass.
'How did someone as young as her get a place like this?' I think silently. 'She doesn't even have her own car, but lives in this suburban paradise.'
Right now I'm sitting on the grass, lost in thought, while Marcus finishes cleaning a brick grill that looks like it's never been used before.
My original plan for coming to the backyard was to meditate, organize my thoughts about the recent changes in my life, but…
'How can I do that with Marcus working shirtless?' I yell mentally.
His sweaty muscles gleaming under the setting afternoon sun. Every move he makes while cleaning that grill is a distraction. His defined arms, broad chest, tan skin, and that bulge in his shorts.
"You've been sitting there spacing out for a while, Carlie." Marcus says without taking his eyes off the task. "Something wrong?"
"That ass is not on my face-." I cut myself midwhisper, looking away. "No, nothing. Just... thinking."
"Thinking? Or drooling?" He laughs, pointing to the corner of my mouth.
I feel my face heat up as I quickly wipe my lips.
"Don't worry your hungry mind, Carlie," says Marcus, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "I'll pick up the pace."
I eye the human, suspicious of his declaration.
"No matter how fast you are, Marcus, the grill isn't lit and the meat's not even seasoned."
Instead of responding, the human closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, focusing on something.
"What are you gonna do now?" I murmur, curious.
A melodious breeze begins to blow gently around Marcus. It's as if the strange phenomenon is pleased with what the human is about to do.
"Spirit of air, awaken and rise,
Whisper your strength through open skies.
Bless me with speed, like falcons that soar,
Faster than tempests that howl and roar."
"What are you talking about?" I ask, confused.
A layer of wind envelops Marcus, who remains with eyes clos, focused. The air around him comes alive, forming whirlwinds that dance around him. It's mesmerizing, but also frightening.
"Marcus?" I call, my voice barely a whisper.
But the human doesn't answer.
The wind keeps spinning, faster and faster, until-.
BOOM!
Marcus vanishes completely in a small explosion of magical wind.
I blink, trying to understand what just happened.
"Marcus?" I call again, this time louder, but once again I get no response.
Suddenly, a table appears out of nowhere, already set up and ready for use. I jump back, startled. Soon after, chairs begin to appear, one by one, arranged around the table. The items Marcus bought start to appear next: charcoal, skewers, meat, bread... everything appears as if by magic.
It takes a moment to realize it's not teleportation. It's Marcus, moving so fast my eyes can't keep up. He's everywhere, setting everything up with supernatural speed. In a matter of seconds, the backyard is transformed, ready for a barbecue.
"How did he...?" I begin, but he's already back, standing in front of me, a satisfied smile on his face.
"Acceleration magic with a bit of wind blessing," he explains, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "That way I can ignore most of the air resistance when I move and avoid stuff like wind tunnels, sonic booms, and other annoying things you don't see in the Flash comics."
"But... how?" I ask, still trying to process what I just saw.
"Magic," he replies, shrugging. "Magic and high school physics knowledge."
He turns to the grill, now lit and filled with glowing wood charcoal. The meat's already there, sizzling as it cooks. The smell is delicious, but I can barely focus. My mind is still trying to comprehend what just happened.
"You... you can do that whenever you want?" I ask, finally finding my voice.
"Sort of," he says, turning the meat with a skill that surprises me. "Depends on how much mana I have available and how I structure my enchantments."
"So that's why you said that poem? It's an enchantment?" I question intrigued.
"The enchantment is a poem, because mana likes rhymes."
I open my mouth to ask more questions, but Marcus cuts me off, handing me a plate with what looked like sliced sausages with a strong smell of squeezed lime hitting my senses.
"It's already ready?" I ask, looking at the plate.
"This is Brazilian churrasco," Marcus explains, already turning back to the grill. "So the first thing served is this kind of sausage, which takes about 10 minutes to be done."
The smell is amazing, and my stomach growls in response. My focus shifts from the human to the food.
"Sit down," Marcus says, pointing to the table. "I need to prepare the other meats and get the garlic bread ready."
I sit there, holding the plate, while Marcus moves efficiently around the grill. He grabs more meat, seasons it, places it over the fire. Every move is precise, like he's done this thousands of times.
'And maybe he really has, in his other life,' I whisper as I sit down.
I stare at the sliced sausage, licking my lips without realizing it as my stomach growls, but I hesitate. Most of my life I've only eaten traditional Chinese food prepared by renowned chefs, but in recent years I've even gotten used to traditional American food, also known as fast food.
"But this is different," I murmur unintentionally out loud.
Marcus has his back turned, focused on the grill. He doesn't notice my little dilemma, and that's good. I don't want him to think I don't appreciate his effort. I swallow hard, grab a slice of sausage with my fingers, and toss it into my mouth.
The first bite is an explosion of flavors. The meat is juicy, with a smoky touch only wood charcoal can provide. The lime squeezed on top adds a layer of freshness, balancing the fat of the meat. It's a simple combination, but incredibly tasty.
"Whoa, this is so... whoa," I murmur, unable to contain my appetite.
Marcus turns, a satisfied smile on his face and asks:
"You liked it?"
"Liked it?" I repeat, already grabbing another slice. "This is amazing, Marcus. I've never tasted anything like it."
The human laughs victoriously.
"Glad you liked it, Carlie," says Marcus, manning the grill. "But this is just the beginning, linguiça is at the bottom of a Brazilian barbecue."
My eyes widen at Marcus' statement. I salivate, imagining what else he's preparing. The smell of grilled meat is already intoxicating me, and my stomach growls in anticipation. But before I can say anything, a melodious female voice hums from atop the fence.
"What is that wonderful smell?"
We turn toward the fence, and an anthro rises, looking our way.
"O my gosh! Who are you people?" Questions the figure. "Did Edith move?"
[Masha Medvetskaya]
The air is dense, heavy with tension. The cold metal walls reflect the dim light, creating elongated shadows that dance to the rhythm of my breathing.
My descent in the reinforced elevator is silent. This machine is the kind of thing you'd expect to find in a nuclear bunker belonging to a national leader of some kind.
I take a long drag from my cigarette, the smoke flooding my lungs, trying to calm my nerves. The nicotine burns, but it's no match for the knot in my stomach. I clutch the brown overcoat tighter to my body, as if the fabric could protect me from what's to come.
Every inch of descent increases the pressure in my chest. I try to maintain a serious demeanor, but my fingers tremble slightly as I bring the cigarette back to my lips. The elevator creaks, a metallic sound that echoes through the walls.
"Is the cold already affecting the metal?" I ask aloud, surprised as we're not even halfway down.
Continuing the endless descent, the air grows colder. Every meter traveled is a reminder of the abyss opening beneath my feet. The metal walls, once cold to the touch, now feel like they're freezing my fur.
"Damn!" I mutter feeling anxious, looking at the panel. "Still five hundred meters(0.3 Mile) to go?"
In total, this place is two thousand meters (1.24 Miles) deep.
An impressive feat, even for a uranium mine like this place used to be. Before the Anthrostate turned this damned hole into a prison for a single monster.
"Winter Scourge," I say aloud, clenching my fists.
After a few more minutes that feel like hours, the elevator beeps.
DING!
As soon as the door opens, a blast of icy wind rushes in. The cold is so intense my eyes water instantly. The watch on my arm reads -90 °C, a temperature that bothers even a bear like me wearing a polar expedition suit.
In front of me, a frozen mist blankets the area, creating a dense veil that obscures the surroundings. Every step is a challenge, the intense cold biting to the bone. The sound of my footsteps echoes, each impact resonating on the metal floor. My breath forms vapor clouds that dissipate quickly into the freezing air.
"Where are you?" I ask aloud, eyes squinting to peer through the mist. "I have news that might interest you."
Suddenly, the ground trembles. A deep, rumbling sound reverberates through the walls. Clearly, the monster is speaking, but the voice is too grotesque to be Anthro or human.
It's something primordial, ancient.
"INSPECTOR MASHA MEDVETSKAYA," every syllable makes the floor vibrate, sending shockwaves through my feet.
The mist stirs, revealing gigantic outlines. A colossal form rises, so immense it defies comprehension.
"WHY DO YOU DARE DISTURB MY SLEEP?" Questions the creature. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH ENERGY I EXPEND TO KEEP THIS ROOM AT SUCH A WARM TEMPERATURE? DO YOU WANT ME TO STOP HOLDING BACK MY POWER?"
An ironic smile forms on my face. I know the monster isn't lying. If Winter Scourge weren't exerting itself, this place could be much colder.
The ironic smile vanishes from my face, replaced by a serious expression. The intense cold starts to pierce my bones, but determination warms my chest. I step forward, the metal floor creaking beneath my weight.
"Winter Scourge!" I exclaim to draw its attention. "I've found clues that may interest you. There is a possibility he is your target."
The colossal draconic form moves, the mist stirs again. The massive outlines become clearer as the great reptilian skull lowers, fixing its gaze on me.
[Image]
"WHAT KIND OF CLUES, INSPECTOR?"
"Of a human male with strange powers."
"RAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" Roars the monster, oddly excited.
Winter Scourge's roar echoes through the metal walls, reverberating in every fiber of my being. The underground facility trembles, the ground vibrates beneath my feet. The once-dense mist now becomes a storm of ice and snow. Sharp crystals slice through the air, reflecting the dim light in a spectacle of cold colors.
"FINALLY!" Winter Scourge's voice resounds, every syllable dripping with twisted joy. "I SHALL HAVE MY REVENGE!"
The icy wind lashes my face, but I stand firm. My eyes fixed on the colossal figure before me.
"I still need to investigate further," my voice cuts through the frigid air. "To guarantee if he's truly the one you seek, I also need to draw him away from the city. We need to avoid loss of innocent lives."
The ice storm intensifies, the crystals spinning in a chaotic whirlwind. The cold penetrates my bones, but my resolve doesn't waver.
"I WILL KEEP MY WORD," Winter Scourge's voice echoes, every syllable heavy with terrifying seriousness. "I WOULD RATHER AVOID ANOTHER INCIDENT LIKE THE ONE THIRTY YEARS AGO." Says the dragon mentioning the land of eternal winter she created by accident.
I let out a sigh of relief, the vapor of my breath quickly vanishing into the frozen air. The weight of Winter Scourge's words is a grim reminder of the past, a warning that the future may be equally dangerous.
"DON'T BE TOO RELIEVED, INSPECTOR," the monster's voice grows deeper, more menacing. "FOR WITH EACH PASSING DAY, I CARE LESS ABOUT THE LOSS OF SUPPOSEDLY INNOCENT LIVES."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. The intense cold feels even colder, freezing me to the core. The veiled threat chills my blood—literally.
"DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME!"
[Edith Nivea]
I get off at the bus stop, the exhaustion weighing on every step, but it's not just work that's wearing me down.
"The worst part is that Gorete is right," I grumble, annoyed.
Streets are quiet, except for the distant sound of a car passing by. The street lights flicker, casting long shadows that dance across the asphalt.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I see my house in the distance, but something makes my ears perk up in apprehension.
"Didididiê
Didididiê iê iê
Didididiê"
"What song is that?" I ask as I approach the house.
As I get closer, the lively music grows louder and the murmur of people becomes apparent.
I round the house, the sound of laughter and cutlery clinking on plates guiding me. The backyard, usually empty, is now full of tables covered with green tablecloths, families of anthro and human seated, sharing steaming plates of food. Children, a mix of Anthros and small humans, run through the grass, shouting and laughing, kicking balls, playing tag.
This almost feels like a typical suburban scene, but why here at my house? Why now?
A hand rests on my shoulder, startling me. I turn around, my ears flicking quickly, my eyes wide. Carlie is there, her expression soft but serious.
"Miss Nivia, come, sit with me."
She guides me to an empty table, a bit away from the chaos. I sit, my eyes still wide, trying to make sense of it all. Carlie pulls a chair close to mine, her long striped tail curling around the legs of the chair.
"What's going on here, Carlie?" I ask, flustered. "What are these people doing in my house?"
"Marcus," she replies, as if his name explained everything.
And In a way, it does, but I still need more details. Carlie lets out an awkward chuckle and starts to explain.
"Marcus bought a lot of food, enough to feed an entire neighborhood… and he's sort of doing that, you know, in your honor."
"What!?" I shout in surprise.
Carlie stares at me with a subtle smile, but I can't focus on her anymore. A tall, slender figure approaches us, her pristine white fur shining under the garden lights. Her sharp voice cuts through the air, calling my name.
"Edith! There you are, my dear, where have you been all along?"
"Colette." I whisper frustratedly.
I recognize that tone of false modesty in her voice, the way she pronounces my name, stretching the vowels. I stand, my ears twitching nervously. Carlie stands too, her tail lifting, alert.
"What is she doing here?" I mutter, more to myself than to Carlie.
Carlie lets out an awkward laugh in response, like she's already interacted with the poodle anthro in question.
Colette spots me and walks over, her steps elegant but hurried. Her expensive clothes, made of shimmering fabric, flows around her, making her look like an apparition.
[Image]
"Edith, darling, there you are!" she says, stopping in front of me. Her large, expressive eyes scan me from head to toe. "You're looking… authentic as always."
I force a smile, trying to stay calm.
"Colette, what a surprise to see you here," I say, my voice higher-pitched than usual. "To what do I owe the honor?"
She lets out a loud, fake laugh, her eyes gleaming with veiled malice.
"Oh, Edith, you know I always like to be where things are happening," she replies, her gaze drifting to the party around us. "And it looks like your house is the place to be right now."
My smile stays frozen on my face, but inside, I'm boiling. Colette is the last person I want in my house, especially at an event like this. But I can't let my irritation show. She's too powerful in the HOE and way too vindictive.
I let out a nervous laugh, trying to keep my composure. Colette tilts her head, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous curiosity.
"But tell me, darling, everyone's talking about your... husband," she says, her voice low, almost a whisper. "When was the wedding? My invitation must've gotten lost in the mail."
My patience is hanging by a thread, but I keep the fake smile on my face.
"There was no wedding, Colette," I reply quickly, my voice firm. "Marcus and I are not married. He's just... staying here for now."
Colette raises an eyebrow, clearly not believing me.
"Staying?" she murmurs, licking her lips, her gaze drifting toward the human serving an elderly couple in the distance. "I'm not really into promiscuous men who cook in shorts and an apron with no shirt, but… I get the appeal."
My eyes widen, my ears shoot up, rigid and pointing forward. I feel heat rise up my neck, my cheeks burning. Beside me, Carlie lets out a low growl, almost inaudible, her tail raised, fur standing on end.
Noticing our reaction, Colette lets out a loud laugh, her eyes gleaming with veiled malice, delighting in our fury.
"Oh! Come now girls, no need to get like that," she says, her voice sweet and poisonous. "I'm just saying what everyone's thinking."
My fists clench, short claws digging into my palms. I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm, but the cloying sweetness of Colette's perfume invades my nostrils, making my stomach turn.
But before either I or Carlie can respond, a large plate is set down on our table, grabbing our attention.
POF!
The sound of the plate hitting the table makes me jump, my ears twitching rapidly.
It was Marcus who had arrived, with a broad smile on his face, his green eyes gleaming with pure joy.
I open my mouth to scold him for throwing a party without asking for my permission, but the words die in my throat as I notice the muscles on his chest and arms, covered in a thin layer of sweat, glistening under the garden lights.
Carlie's face was red, unable to look in Marcus's direction, and Colette seemed frustrated that the human had interrupted their interaction.
"What did I do?" Marcus asks, not understanding the context of the situation.
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E ai gurizada,
As always, Marcus is subtle as a football fan when his team wins a championship.