A woman was running through the woods, panicked and scared. She dodged trees and rocks while occasionally looking back behind her. She was panting from her effort and had likely been running for a while. She tripped over a root and fell to the floor, turning herself around and waving a hand in front of herself while stammering. “Nonononono. Please, please don't kill me. I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry.” What looked like a man in a mechanic’s outfit and a welding helmet walked slowly and calmly up to her. Chains hanging off his arms and dragging on the floor. In one hand he held a welding torch, and in the other a large wrench. On his overalls a dirty name tag red “Jack”.
The figure continued to walk slowly as the woman backed herself into a tree, still moving her hand back and forth in the air and pleading. The figure took the wrench to the woman's right leg, breaking it so that bone bits jutted out the leg. The woman cried in pain but the man was unfazed and simply broke the other leg with a second mighty swing. Then he moved the welding torch up to the woman's side before turning it on with the flame just close enough to burn her skin but not so close that it would burn right through it.
The woman screamed and cried in pain as the man continued to burn different spots of her body with the torch. After a while he finally took the torch and pointed it sideways in front of her face before turning it on and burning her eyelids as her eyes melted like wax. The man then washed her skull in with the oversized wrench before slowly walking away into the woods with the chains on his arms rattling as he did so, the mutilated corpse left at the foot of the tree.
Pitch had been brought to a crime scene, it was the first time in a while. Pitch looked over the mutilated corpse at the foot of the tree. “I can see why we were called, this definitely isn't normal. I don't see anything that screams Cryptid though. If it is my guess, an Onrio. The death was traumatic and overly graphic. That suggests it was personal, perhaps revenge. Do we have any witnesses?” Ishwada looked at some notes. “The victim was last seen alive by a friend who claimed… the spirit of a dead mechanic was after her and her friends. His ghost already killed one of them, having shown up in the city on a foggy morning.”
Pitch continued to look at the body. “Do we have pictures of this first crime scene?” Ishwada shook his head. “This other friend that allegedly died hasn't been found. She vanished three weeks ago. Cops were called and we weren't even notified since nothing about her disappearance was out of the ordinary.” Pitch sighed and shook his head. “So we have a positive identity on the dead mechanic they claim is haunting them?” Ishwada flipped through the notes. “Jack Gibson. He died last year. Oddly enough in a car accident. Nothing about the event was of note other than apparently someone stole his body from the morgue before the autopsy could be done.”
Pitch slowly reached out and touched the corpse, tilting his head. “Oh long ago did she die?” Ishwada flipped back. “Estimated about… six hours ago.” Pitch looked over the body once again. “Well I'd hate to report that I've got nothing new to add. I don't see anything the boys that did the first sweep missed. I don't sense any left over anomalous emotional energies or anything like that. This could be a Cryptid, but could just as well have been a human. Do we have details on the car accident from a year ago that killed Gibson?” Ishwada shook his head. “Not yet, but I put in the request already and we should have everything on the case in a few hours.”
Pitch picked himself off the ground and dusted himself off. “I actually used to get my car done at Jack's shop, he was my dad's go to car guy. I can't say I knew him well since I only talked shop with him for getting business done so unfortunately I don't have anything on his day-to-day life outside the fact he owned his own shop but you guys probably already got that information.” Ishwada nodded. “Both the woman we talked to and the victims, assuming the disappearance is connected, went to highschool with Gibson apparently. I guess they used to bully the guy back in the day. So the woman we talked to thinks he's come back from the dead to make them all pay.”
Pitch groaned. “I mean if they bullied him years ago, I don't see why he's come after them now after a car accident. Not unless he thought they caused it for some reason during his final moments. Something isn't adding up here. I feel like we're missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.” Ishwada signalled to the men. “Alright, pack everything up. Maybe the lab boys can find something.” Pitch sighed. “Well if we're done here I guess I'll go home till we have more information.” Ishwada nodded. “Have you set a date and place for the wedding?”
Pitch tilted his head. “Normally people are engaged for at least a year before they marry. Then again nothing about my life is normal. But no, places have to be booked months in advance and I called about the location I wanted. Apparently one can not simply book a section of the park. Apparently you're not allowed to hold any events like that in the park, which is news to me because I've seen huge events. Apparently you can actually be fined for even having a picnic at the park as it risks litter and food waste being left behind. It's almost funny considering it's the same guy who removed all the trash cans we used to have hooked up to street lamps.”
Anderson shrugged. “Those didn't have lids so they probably attracted racoons and stuff. Apparently he's had several designs for outdoor trash cans tested but has yet to find a raccoon proof solution that was also easy for people to use. No one wants to unlatch and open a lid. If it's not convenient to use it simply won't be by most. Most people are lazy or simply don't care enough.” Pitch grumbled. “You act like regular people littering is a huge problem. You realize like ninety percent of all waste and pollution in the U.S is done by big businesses and their C.E.Os? You driving an electric car isn't going to do much to offset the fact you could drive a gas guzzling big truck every day for ten years and not even come close to the amount of pollution created in the single use of a private jet.”
Ishwada put his hand up. “This isn't the time or place, there's either a monster or a deranged man on the loose. So let's try to focus on that.” Pitch grumbled a bit more. “I suppose. I guess the next stop for us is the workshop Gibson worked at since all the people of interest have been questioned.” Ishwada nodded. “We'll meet you there.” Pitch left for his jeep with a wave and drove to the vehicle repair shop Gibson used to run. The place was still there and unused since Gibson’s death. Pitch checked the door to find it was locked. He looked around for a backup key before finding one inside a fake rock among other rocks. He unlocked the door and walked in.
Pitch started looking around, the place had been seemingly left untouched since Gibson's death and everything was still in its proper place. He looked back when he heard the door open and looked to see it was Ishwada and Anderson. “Hey. Hope you don't mind I started without you too. I don't see anything unusual or out of place. Even the welder is right where it should be and based on the burns that's what was what was used. I'm guessing wherever he lived isn't still empty.” Ishwada shook his head. “The place is under a new owner and they have been living in it for six months.”
Pitch took a second look around the garage area. “There isn't a single tool missing. There's even some spare parts still here. Honestly surprised this place wasn't raided. Some of this stuff is worth good money and has little to no tracking to prove it's stolen. It's easy money just sitting there.” Anderson rubbed his chin. “I mean the area isn't crime free but this isn't Chicago or Detroit.” Pitch laughed. “You haven't spent much time in the slums, have you?” Anderson shrugged. “I wasn't aware New Arkham has slums. We're not exactly a big city.”
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Pitch shook his head. “Where do you think I went hunting when I needed to feed?” Anderson went slightly pale. “I… avoided thinking about it.” Pitch nodded. “Fair. Though I haven't been hungry in almost two months now. I'm hoping I no longer need to do that because even when it was death row inmates I still felt guilty.” Anderson nodded. “I'd be worried if you didn't.” Pitch looks around again. “I don't think we're going to find…” Pitch took a few steps closer to some tools on the wall. “Hold up.” Pitch picked up a large wrench from the wall and looked it over. “You think this could break a leg?”
Anderson chuckled. “It's less about the size and more the force put into it, but yeah.” Pitch sniffed the wrench. “Take this to the lab, I think there might be tiny traces of blood. Like whoever used the tools put everything back exactly where he got it after.” Anderson bagged the wrench. “Maybe we should bag the outfits and the welding mask too.” Pitch nodded. “Can't be too thorough. If that's everything I think I'll go back home to my fiancee.” Ishwada gestured to the door. “Go for it man, I'll text you if you're needed.”
Pitch once again went to his vehicle and got ready to drive. He tapped the steering wheel several times before starting to drive. Something still wasn't sitting right with Pitch. There were a number of strange things about the case but not necessarily the kind that meant it had to be a Cryptid. However, despite his misgivings, everything was fine for the rest of that day. It wasn't till the next day while taking a run to get groceries that anything new would happen.
It was dark, foggy, and really hard to see. Next to no one went outside to go places unless they absolutely had to. While in the parking lot about to load up the car Pitch heard the sound of chains rattling in the distance. He paused to listen for a moment before putting everything in his jeep and returning the cart. Pitch waited for a bit while standing outside his jeep and heard the sound of chains rattling once again. He let out a sigh and patiently waited for whatever was making the sound to step out of the cover of the fog.
A man in a mechanic's coveralls and a welding helmet with chains hanging from his arms emerged from the fog. In one hand he held a welder and on the other hand a large wrench. Pitch sighed. “I'm going to give you one warning, you don't want this fight.” The figure continued forward. Pitch saw that the coveralls that were fitted for Jack Gibson fit this man perfectly. There wasn't any bagginess that would suggest it's someone else was under the helmet. The figure didn't talk back, they simply slowly walked forward with a lean, making sure the chains rattled. Something like this wou8be scary, terrifying in fact, if it wasn't for the fact Pitch wasn't human and was not under any danger.
The figure got within range and Pitch noticed he couldn't feel the feeling he normally got when a Cryptid got close to him. His eyes widened at the implications of this as the figure raised the hand with the wrench and swung it at Pitch's head. Pitch dodged the swing even though it wasn't necessary. “Nice try Shackle Jack, but I've dealt with scarier and deadlier things than you. The figure took a few more fast and hard swings with Pitch avoiding every single one. “You just about done?” Pitch asked nonchalantly.
The figure wound up for a swing, only this time the telegraphed attack was a fake out and they kicked Pitch in the shin with steel toe boots. This caught Pitch off guard but didn't exactly hurt. It did however distract him long enough to give the figure a solid free hit with the wrench. Pitch was struck across the face, barely moving from the force. He geared at the figure before grabbing the wrench and kicking at the figure to send them to the ground. Pitch tossed the wrench at the ground before stepping forward, the figure taking a step backwards and tripping.
The figure fell in their ass and put their hands in a gesture as if asking for Pitch to stop and show mercy. “Wh-what are you? Are you even human?!” Pitch moved in closer as the figure tried to recoil, with a quick reach forward Pitch lifted the welding helmet to look at the face of the man under it. Pitch stood there blinking with a stunned expression on his face. “You're… you're not Jack.” The man seemed a bit confused for a moment. “Oh course I'm not Jack, you freak of nature. Jack died in a car accident last year.” Pitch grabbed the man by the collar. “Who are you and why are you going after the people that bullied Jack Gibson when he was in highschool?”
The man whimpered in fear. “M-my name’s Jake Gibson, Jack was my uncle. I used to work with him at the shop from time to time. I was sure the accident wasn't such, because uncle Jack wouldn't have driven a car with bad brakes. The cops wouldn't look into it so I did. I was sure one of his former bullies cut his brake line or something to cause the crash but couldn't prove it. I was just going to scare them into confessing. But then they started turning up dead and I saw you investigating the shop. I figured I'd catch the blame for their deaths because whoever did it took advantage of the fact I kept sneaking up on them to spook them in hopes they would confess thinking Jack was haunting them.”
Pitch let Jake go. “You… aren't the killer? Shit. This complicates things.” Jake was still shaking. “You believe me? Just like that?” Pitch sighed. “I'm a bit of a human lie detector. You're just some scared kid, not a killer. Put that shit away and lay low till we find whoever is actually doing this. You're just in the way of the investigation.” Jake nodded and got up. Pitch heard chains rattling again but this time Jake wasn't the one behind it. “Oh come on, really?” He sighed. “Get behind me Jake, this might be messy.”
A second figure came out of the fog in the same get up as Jake but he wasn't holding a wrench. Instead he was holding what looked like an old fashioned meat hook in this hand. He pointed it at Jake and spoke in a gruff voice. “I'm disappointed in you Jake. You were so useful as an alibi when you were just spooking people. Now you've been discovered so your usefulness has ended. Now I've got to kill you and this investigator and lay low for a while. Though, I should thank you for tracking him down and keeping him busy till I was ready.” Pitch sighed. “If you think you scare me, you're wrong. I've fought actual monsters, you're just some punk in a mask.”
Pitch pulled out his Watt Pistol. “I'd suggest getting on your knees, dropping the meat hook and welder, and surrendering. This gun may be set to stun but I've been told it still hurts like a bitch.” The figure charged at Pitch, and Pitch fired. However the gun didn't seem to do anything. “What the-” The new figure plowed into Pitch with his shoulder, knocking him in the ground before shoving the meat hook through Pitch's shoulder. The figure then shoved a second hook into the other shoulder and used the chains to swing toss Pitch down the road.
The figure walked towards Jake who shuffled backwards on the ground, fear consuming him and making him unable to think properly. Jake turned over to get up and run but as soon as he did the figure went from a slow intimidating walk to a run as he sprinted shoulder first into Jake and sent him to the floor. “I'm going to take my time with you and savor your screams. Go head, offer up your pitiful resistance. The harder you struggle, the harder I get and the harder I make it for you.” He ignited the flame on the welder and aimed it at Jake. Thean was about to burn Jake when he hesitated after hearing chains rattling.
The man looked up to see Pitch walking in from the fog with the meat hooks and chains still hanging out of his shoulders. “I was going to go easy on you. I was going to at least try to take you in alive.” Pitch pulled one of the hooks out and tossed it in the ground. There was hardly any blood and the hole simply filled black void that could not be seen through. Pitch pulled the other hook out with the same result as he slowly approached the second figure. “But now? Now I'm pissed.” Jake's eyes widened and even the second figure took a step backwards.
Pitch moved his neck, making a crack noise. “I don't know what you think you are, but you're no monster.” His eyes turned completely black as he moved towards the man in the welding helmet. “You think you're scary? You don't even know the meaning of fear.” The man was practically frozen in place as Pitch walked forward and grabbed him by the neck and stared directly into the visor of the welding helmet before removing it with his free hand to look directly into the man's eyes.
The man's expression went quickly into one of fear as he started to struggle against Pitch's hand. He clawed and made sounds as he attempted to escape the grip. Pitch smiled devilishly. “That's right, struggle harder. The harder you struggle-” Pitch stopped himself mid sentence and set the man down before handcuffing him. “Sorry about that, I almost lost my cool “ he mended the wounds on his shoulder. “Don't bother telling anyone what you saw, they wouldn't believe you anyway.”
Both men whimpered in fear as Pitch handcuffed Jake and called for a pick up. “So you're going to be processed and likely handled by the police after that.” Pitch waited patiently for Anderson and a cop to come and grab the two and Pitch made a statement about them both. Anderson got the two to sign papers before the cop took them both into custody. Anderson sighed and looked at Pitch. “How much did they see?” Pitch shrugged. “I had meat hooks in my body and my eyes went black but nothing too crazy. You can probably give solid explanations for everything.” Anderson pinched the bridge of his nose. “You really need to be more careful when dealing with threats, especially if you don't have backup.”
Pitch threw his hand out. “It's not like I ask to be a magnet for problems and weird shit!” Anderson sighed. “I know that. It's just… you have eyes on you, ones who are just waiting you to fuck up so they have an excuse to throw you under the bus and be rid of you.” Pitch sighed and hung his head. “Yeah… I think I need a nap. Even though I only sleep a few hours a month. I'm going home and I'll see you later.” Pitch made his way home after having a long day.
