"Swoosh!" A man wearing dark tactical gear shot a tranquilizer dart at a crazed orderly, (one who had been affected by Carla's compulsion).
"Argh," the man fell down and immediately began convulsing in the dim walkway, seemingly resisting the effects of the dart, but only for a moment, as he succumbed soon after.
The group then drew closer to him and observed the mark on his head.
"No matter how many times I see it, it still freaks me out," a dark-haired man wearing a suit (an NIU agent) spoke.
Beside this man was another NIU agent, a blonde-haired man in a suit, his face weary and exhausted.
Another individual was also present: Hunter, the grey-haired detective. He too wore a suit, and he looked as confused as the individuals outside.
He had seen Carla's office and the dead bodies in the room, specifically Edward's body. He noted how the man died from puncture wounds to his neck, unlike the other bodies, which died from gunshots.
'Was it Carla as well?' he pondered, trying to connect the dots of these strange murders, despite the evidence, he found it hard to believe in the supernatural.
'The laymen of the 18th and 19th centuries must have felt the same way,' Hunter thought, trying to classify these strange occurrences as the result of some new bioweapon; this was a hospital, after all.
Nevertheless, it was evident that the woman with a tail was Carla; that much was certain with all the evidence provided, and they were currently hunting for her.
Originally, the focus had been to stop the terrorists responsible for the manslaughter, but after more and more showed up, most having completely clean records, it was evident that they were being compelled somehow.
'When she touched my officer's head, they immediately turned on us,' He remembered Sergeant Henry's words, spoken when he had questioned him on the details of what happened.
The NIU had shown up a few hours ago and taken total control of this case, brandishing their authority.
Hunter had watched them supply tranquilizer guns to the authorities, who were using them to subdue the affected individuals and transport them to medical facilities.
There was at the fourth floor, and it was busy. Firefighters, paramedics, and law enforcement could be seen working with NIU agents to ensure order.
'These guys,' Hunter thought, his gaze narrowing at the men besides him. 'What are they hiding?'
He had been following and observing them for a while now, and from their discussions, they seemed very accustomed to dealing with situations like this. Additionally, they seemed to be waiting for another branch of the NIU to arrive.
He had heard about them, an anonymous branch of government designed to deal with the most extreme cases; It was said that they even controlled the famed super-weapons that led to the formation of the alliances in the first place.
'Any information about this shadow branch of government is purely speculative,' Hunter thought to himself. 'I've come in contact with the NIU multiple times, but I've never been able to get much insight into their internal affairs. They respect my reputation, but that's it. I wonder-'
"So what is really going on with these guys," Hunter suddenly spoke, his voice calm as though he was used to the topic.
The two NIU agents looked at each other, their gazes unsure. "What are you talking about?" one of them asked.
'I have no idea,' Detective Hunter thought to himself. "You know what I'm talking about," he expanded hoping his vague responses would be enough to compel them.
But they were trained agents who wouldn't fall for such tricks. They merely smiled at him and shook their heads. "We're just as in the dark as you are-"
The blond agent's sentence was cut short by a piercing scream from a side corridor, followed by the crash of a cleaning cart overturning.
The three men reacted instantly, drawing their tranquilizer pistols and moving as a unit toward the sound.
They rounded the corner to a grim scene, such that the men couldn't help but frown upon gazing at it.
One could see a man in a therapist's white coat, his face contorted in rage, as he pinned a terrified woman against the wall by a supply closet.
His hands were clenched around her throat, his veins bulging, strained by the activity.
The woman in question was a black woman who appeared to be in her late forties, with strong, kind features now twisted in fear.
Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun, and she wore the light blue scrubs and comfortable sneakers of the hospital's cleaning staff.
The nametag on her chest read "Laylay"
'Haven't all the staff been evacuated?' Detective Hunter thought, his eyes narrowed to slits.
"Hey! Off of her!" the dark-haired agent barked, his voice echoing in the hall.
The crazed therapist turned, his form jerking as though shocked by the sudden sound. He then released Laylay, who slid down the wall, gasping for air.
He had almost killed her, but he seemed not to care. Instead, he let out a guttural snarl and charged.
"Swoosh!"
"Thwip!"
Two darts hit him in the chest almost simultaneously, the pain inspiring a whimper amid his growls.
But he charged still, his defiance lasting only for a moment as he stumbled soon after, swiping at the air before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed.
Hunter quickly ran to Laylay's side, his eyes observing her as his instincts nagged at him (though he showed no sign of it). "Ma'am? Can you breathe? Are you hurt?" He asked in rapid succession.
At his words, Laylay nodded, her hands still clutching her throat. "I... I'm okay," she rasped, her voice broken. "He just... came out of nowhere, I-I-"
"That's enough," Hunter shut her up, his eyes observing her form, particularly her backside.
Laylay shuddered under his gaze, her form reeling in faint disgust.
'What am I doing,' Detective Hunter then shook his head, an awkward smile blooming on his face as he tried to appear more trustworthy, but he just looked like a creep.
The NIU agents, on the other hand, quickly secured the sedated therapist, checking for the tell-tale mark on his head (that odd circular inscription).
They then looked at each other, a knowing gaze in their eyes.
Hunter was busy helping Laylay to her feet, having used his badge to convince her of his 'trustworthiness'.
She was trembling, but her gaze was steady, scanning the chaotic hallway as though she was looking for something.
"Let's get you out of here," Hunter said, his tone leaving no room for argument as he helped her up.
'This woman,' he thought as he observed how shaken she was, her gaze constantly shifting at the slightest sound.
It was almost as though she expected to be attacked again. 'I'll have to watch her,' Hunter thought, making a mental note to look into her later.
With that said, he guided her past the agents, who gave him a nod of approval while they worked, binding the tranquilized man with the assistance of SWAT.
Hunter led her down to the triage station set up on the first floor, where a harried-looking paramedic tried to usher Laylay onto a gurney, but she held up her hand, shaking her head heavily.
"I don't need a doctor. I just need some air," she insisted, her voice stronger than before, lacking the raw, tremulous feel of before.
"Ma'am, you need to get checked," The paramedic (a light-skinned woman with brown hair) said gently, but when she saw Hunter shaking his head, she let her be, handing her a bottle of water.
Laylay accepted the bottle of water from the responder but firmly refused any further medical attention, further incurring Hunter's suspicion.
The man then procured a notepad and handed it to Laylay, his voice firm. "I need to get your details for the report. Standard procedure."
Laylay complied calmly, writing her details on the notepad before handing it back to Hunter who read it calmly.
'Laylay Wilkins, a member of the environmental services staff, employee number 887... she seems to check out,' Hunter thought to himself, noting how she even neatly wrote down her personal phone number on a corner of the page.
"In case you have more questions, you can call me anytime, Detective," she said, her mannerisms oddly composed for someone who had just been assaulted.
"Are you sure you don't want someone to look at your neck? Or give you a ride home?" Hunter asked, observing her closely.
"I'm sure. My car is just out back. Thank you for your help," Laylay responded, offering a small, tired smile before turning and walking toward the staff parking lot.
Hunter watched her go, a nagging feeling in his gut.
She moved with a purpose that seemed at odds with the shock she should have been feeling.
'They still make women this tough?' Hunter thought, joking to himself, about how he expected her to be weak and frail. 'I should know better.'
He then absently patted his suit pocket, but something was wrong, he could not feel the hard shape of his car keys.
'That's strange,' he thought as he checked his other pockets, but they were also empty.
His eyes then snapped back to Laylay, now a distant figure walking across the parking lot; he could hardly see her through the swarm of reporters, but he could still SEE her.
She wasn't heading toward the rows of staff vehicles. She was cutting directly toward the visitor's section. Toward his familiar, awesome, beautiful, majestic, Lin Baroga.
His blood ran cold, his eyes narrowing to slits. 'My baby!'
He saw her pause beside the passenger door, but she didn't fumble in a pocket for her own keys.
Instead, she held up a single key, the light glinting off the familiar fob as she unlocked the door and slid smoothly into the driver's seat.
"Hey!" Hunter yelled, breaking into a sprint as he wove through emergency vehicles and crowds of people.
"Hey!"
"Watch it!"
A few people grumbled, but Hunter paid them no mind, his heart hammering against his ribs as he ran.
He had dealt with thieves, robbers, and serial killers with less fear than he felt now; it was almost comical.
By the time he reached the car, the engine was already groaning, having been turned on by Laylay.
Swiftly, he yanked open the passenger door and threw himself into the seat beside her, his face contorted in fury. "What the hell are you doing? Those are my keys!"
But something was wrong, terribly so Laylay didn't jump or flinch at his apparent anger.
She simply turned to look at him, meeting his angry gaze without blinking.
It was then Hunter felt something crawl up his back, it was quick, slidering around the neck of his shirt before he could even process it.
His first instinct was to swat it away, mistaking it for some kind of bug or animal, but when he held it, it felt long, sinewy, and unnervingly hard.
He then looked into his rearview mirror, his eyes widening as he registered what was around his neck.
A tail, the sharp tip pointed straight at his Adam's apple.
Having seen what that tail was capable of in person, Hunter resolved not to make any sudden movements; rather, he slowly turned to look at Laylay, the Black woman from whom this tail extended.
"Weren't you supposed to be white, Carla?" he asked, his voice strained.