Stranger Occurences

“Why are we here?” the impatient voice echoed around the waiting room.  Richard Cassidy tapped his foot with a bored expression on his face. “Why do you think you’re here,” the other man, Scott Jenkins, responded irritated, “could it possibly be your job?” His voice indicated he was tired of Cassidy’s youthfully short attention span. Richard glared. Scott ignored him. The door to the room was pushed open. Two figures entered the room, one was a tall bald man in a finely presented suit, the other was a young and attractive woman with hard experienced features and tired, sleepless eyes. The man spoke first: “There’s been another incident.” Scott nodded: “Where?” “London. As usual.” The woman replied. “Where’s Allen, Sophie?” Richard questioned. The man glared at him, “I mean: Where’s Allen, Captain Smith” Richard corrected himself. The woman, Sophie Smith, rolled her eyes. “Where do you think?”

The bar was dimly lit and smelled of urine. Roy Allen sat at the bar, tapping his fingers against the counter absentmindedly while the bartender poured him another drink. His phone beeped with a text message. He picked it up. It read: Another body, where are you??? He pocketed the phone once more, ignoring Sophie’s text. “That looked important,” a voice said from next to him. “It always is. Do I know you?” There was a pause. “No” the Stranger responded softly. Roy’s hair was long and brown but neat; in contrast the stranger’s was short and blond but scruffy. Roy’s eyes held on the Stranger’s face for a moment too long. The Stranger looked troubled at the attention then shrugged and returned to his drink in silence.

Sophie, Richard and Scott looked down at the body on the warehouse floor. It was tall, blond, male and neatly dressed. It looked like a businessman of some kind. “Director White wants this case finished, boys; if you have any ideas then I’d love to hear them.” There was silence. Richard cleared his throat causing Scott to groan. This provoked another glare from Richard, “what if the killer is making the victims look alike to hide another connection?” he suggested. Scott snorted, “That’s ridiculous. These victims all look alike because they all look alike. Nothing has been done to them, we know who they are and there is no connection between them!” Richard turned away after glaring at Scott once again.

Another man rushed over to inspect the body: Dr Dave Hall. Sophie glanced over, “David, what can you tell us?” Dave licked his lips with anticipation and spoke excitedly, “The body is just the like the first 6: a blond Caucasian male found in London. As usual, I can’t identify the cause of death.” Sophie raised an eyebrow, “Any good news?” Dave paused for thought, his eyes wandering. “Nathan’s theory still works.” Sophie looked at him sceptically and Dave shifted his weight nervously, “I think he was really onto something...” “That’s because you have a crush on him” Richard snapped causing Dave to turn red with embarrassment. “Thank you for your time David,” Sophie shook his hand, “Richard, Scott, we’re going to see Stevens.”

“Where the hell have you been?” Sophie snapped at Roy outside a small but well-decorated office building. Roy barely responded, “Drinking. Where else would I have been?” Sophie glared, “We’ll talk about this later...” She hissed. After that brief exchange she pushed open the door; Roy, Scott and Richard traipsed in after her. A stranger was stood in front of the small wooden desk talking anxiously to an obscured figure. “Make it quick,” the stranger finished then hurried out. Roy watched him leave; he seemed familiar. “Miss Smith!” the man behind the desk grinned as he saw her, “and your colleagues of course.” Nathan Shawn Stevens stood up to welcome them. “Another body?” Sophie nodded in response. “Same circumstances as the others.” Nathan nodded this time. “Finally willing to pay my fee?” he asked with a grin. Sophie gritted her teeth. Richard smirked. Scott scowled. Roy looked out the window uninterested. “Who should I make the cheque payable to?” Nathan was grinning wider than before now, “Anonymous Chicken Occult Detective Agency” He bowed in mockery, “At your service...”

“You've gone insane, haven’t you?” Scott practically shouted at Sophie. This was immediately met by Sophie’s trademark icy glare. “He’s a conman! How can you not see that?” Scott continued but was cut off by Sophie’s reply. “He’s the best detective in London.” “Occult detective,” Richard corrected, “The best occult detective in London. That means he investigates magic.” Scott gestured with his hands as if to say ‘exactly! Listen to him!’ Sophie turned away, “His methods aren’t the most orthodox but he gets results. This is my operation and I say we’re using him whether you like it or not.” Scott stamped his foot against the floor in anger and stormed off. Richard followed after him to try and calm him down. Roy sniggered. “Well handled boss.” Sophie snapped back around to meet him, “Don’t you start!” Roy shrugged apologetically and wandered away, bottle in hand.

Nathan, or Nate to his friends, was in the warehouse from earlier, bent over the body, examining it with his eyes. Dave Hall stood behind him anxiously: his hair was combed neatly and his clothes straightened especially for Nate. “Solved it!” Nate grinned, getting to his feet. Dave looked at him in disbelief, “I’ll call Ms Smith,” he said in awe.

The door slammed shut as Sophie and Roy marched into the building just mere hours later. “Well?” she said impatiently to Nathan, the others’ criticisms were weighing on her heavily. The grin on Nate’s face said it all. “Voodoo,” he announced.

Richard couldn't stop laughing back at a pub in which the team had met up. Scott was less than impressed. Roy had told them about Nate’s announcement and now Sophie had turned away in embarrassment trying to ignore their mocking. “Best detective in London,” Richard mimicked, “His answer to the mystery is voodoo. Brilliant, just brilliant!” Sophie’s eyes hardened. “All his cases start like this,” she explained in vain as the others just nodded mockingly, “He comes up with a mystical explanation but ends up proving a rational answer during his investigation; much to his disappointment.”

Roy had left the table and headed up to the bat to order another drink. Out of curiosity, he turned to the stranger next to him and asked, “You ever hear about Nathan Stevens, the Anonymous Chicken Detective?” The stranger nodded, “He’s a decent enough guy...” Roy nodded in response, “Total wackjob though, right?” The man was skinny, with thick sandy hair, and a long brown raincoat. Rather than respond, he just nodded and downed his drink in one. “See you around,” the stranger muttered as he left. Roy rolled his eyes and returned to the table.

Nate was at his desk in his office, his chin resting in his hands. It had to be voodoo, right? There was no cause of death yet the body was clearly deceased. Voodoo would involve killing a doll, and the effects would happen to the man it depicted. He imagined they immersed the doll in water, or strangled it, and the lack of air killed him. Nate absent-mindedly scratched the back of his neck, deep in thought. This was it. This was what he had been waiting for. Proof that magic was real...

A man in a black leather jacket, with greying-brown hair entered a small, dark building. The man was recognisable because of the eye patch he wore. “Any news?” a slithery deceitful voice asked. The man shook his head. He answered in a thick Scottish voice: “We haven’t got him yet, but we will. How many thin blond men can there be in London?”

Nate closed the door to his office stepping outside into the rainy streets to find a body lying by the door. He knelt down and checked the man’s pulse. Nothing. There were no signs of a struggle and no indication of the cause of death. Just like the others. The man was tall and blond with short hair and a thin beard. He wore a red hoodie and tracksuit bottoms. He didn’t look like the kind of man anyone was likely to miss for a while. “Dead guy number 8” Nate announced. He glanced around to see if there was anyone in the street.

There was a woman looking at shoes in the shop window opposite. She wore a red jacket and had long brown hair. There was child stood next to her, couldn’t have been any more than 10 years old. He was probably hers. There was an old man sat on a bench reading a newspaper and waiting for the bus. He was bald and wearing an expensive looking waistcoat. Finally there was a man with wavy blond hair who looked like he needed a shave, leant up against the wall, smoking a cigarette. “Alright mate?” he asked in an Irish accent. Nate nodded, “Yeah, just found a dead guy” he said as if it was business as usual. The stranger smirked, “It happens.” He said, straightening up and walking away.

Sophie, Roy, Scott and Richard entered the office the next morning. “Gah!” Richard shouted as he nearly tripped over the dead body which Nate had dragged inside last night. “Don’t mind Hubert” Nate grinned turning to face them. “Hubert?” Roy questioned. “I felt he needed a name,” Nate explained. Scott scowled and rolled his eyes. The scowl seemed almost permanently fixed in the last few days. “So I take it, Hubert here is what you called about?” Sophie asked. “Yup, Same as the others.”

“Have you got any leads?” Sophie asked. “Yeah, voodoo,” Nate answered with a chuckle. Roy couldn’t stop a laugh. “Shut it” Sophie snapped. “Afraid not,” a voice said from behind the five of them. The voice was Irish and husky. Sophie spun around to find herself facing a tall blond stranger in a long brown coat and a cigarette clamped between his teeth. “I think I can help...”

The Stranger sat in a small white interrogation room, waiting patiently. From the other side of the one way mirror, Sophie, Nate and Director White, (the tall, bald man in the finely presented suit) discussed his claims. “It’s a lot to take in but I think he’s telling the truth,” Nate argued. “He’s saying he’s an alien and other aliens are looking for him but only have some details of his identity so are killing anyone who fits the profile and acts like they could be him. What’s he’s saying is ridiculous” White responded forcefully. “It’s the only lead we’ve got sir,” Sophie protested. “Voodoo” Nate muttered under his breath provoking a glare from Sophie. White paused. “Investigate it, but don’t spend too much time and resources on it, Smith.” Sophie nodded. “Let’s go, Nate.” She said, entering the room to get the Stranger.

The 6 of them sat in the bar from earlier except Nate, who was running late. Scott sat still and silent, Sophie watched the Stranger intently, Roy got drunk and then stepped outside to take a phone call, Richard leant in to listen to the Stranger intrigued, and the Stranger retold his story. “Do you have a name, we can call you?” Richard asked excitedly. “Arthur will do,” he responded. Richard nodded in approval leaning back. “Is that your actual name?” Scott sneered harshly. “Nope,” ‘Arthur’ admitted.

Roy leant against the wall with his cell phone in hand, talking quietly to someone. Quietly for Roy when drunk wasn’t particularly quiet though. As Nate approached the bar, he paused as he heard Roy talking. “... I want her name inscribed on it.” Nate’s eyes narrowed as he listened to Roy, intrigued. Roy turned his back to him though obscuring the sound.

Inside the bar, Sophie stood up leaving the other three still talking as she went to relieve herself in the toilet. As she re-emerged a few minutes later she walked back towards her table only to be stopped when she felt something cold press into her back. “Step aside, Ms Smith,” the man with the eye patch ordered. She realised the thing between her shoulder blades was the end of a gun, a strange non-earthly gun, which the man had concealed under his coat. “If you don’t... I have a bullet with your name on...”

It doesn’t matter if you understand the cost. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been burned by it again and again. If everything you love and value has been sacrificed, bit by bit. It feels Fantastic. Imagine the rush. You’re the clever $#% who gets to outwit the universe itself. All the guilt and regret in the galaxy can’t hold a candle to it. You just can’t give it up.

My name is Arthur Jurgens. That’s a lie, it’s not. As far as you are concerned though, my name is Arthur Jurgens. Right now, there are god-knows-whats out there searching for me, and I doubt they have the best intentions. I imagine people often look at me and wonder how I can go on. I’ve lost everything, my friends, my family, my life, even my name. How am I still standing?

I’ve got a plan to deal with whoever is after me. I’m still standing due to the nature of loss. The funny thing about losing everything is that it leaves you with nothing left to lose.

Sophie felt the barrel of the gun pressed deep between her shoulder blades. “Move,” the man with the eyepatch hissed once more. She headed for the door, the man close behind her. Richard didn’t even notice her as she passed by the table. Scott glanced at her but was reassured by a weak smile. Arthur watched her move all the way to the door, his eyes filling with suspicion. His eyebrow raised but besides that he made no move though. As far as they could tell she was getting a breath of fresh air. The man was close, but not close enough to draw attention, and the gun was hidden.

She passed Roy outside. Roy was putting his phone back into his pocket as he saw them. He looked at Sophie, then at the eyepatch man. He didn't say anything he simply shrugged and walked past them. Sophie was a bit miffed at that, she had expected a bit more of a reaction than that but Roy was probably drunk so hadn't made the connection between her leaving and the assailant behind her.

The man stepped back raising a gun out into the open. “What have you learnt of the hive?” he demanded. “The what?” Sophie responded confused and outraged. The man paused then smirked. “Nothing then, our operation is safe. Goodbye Ms Smith, it will be a pleasure blowing your brains out.”

Sophie closed her eyes and gulped, why did Roy have to leave her. Even he had to have been a little concerned, right? A thought struck her in what would surely be her last few moments. They’d been ahead of her team the whole time, always three steps ahead. What if there was a mole on the team? How else could they have known where they would be that night? When it was safe to strike at their victims?

Bang.

Roy, Richard, Scott and Arthur dashed out of the doors of the pub at the sound of the gunshot. Scott looked anxious, Roy looked much the same as before, Arthur looked angry, and Richard just looked plain confused.

The man with the eyepatch looked down at the blood, seeping from his chest. He collapsed to his knees and another shot fired. This time it struck him dead in the forehead. He fell to the cold ground below. Sophie opened her eyes in confusion and spun around to see Nate, now stood up straight, with a smoking revolver in his hand. “So this thing actually works after all,” he grinned.

Nate sat at his desk pondering over the day’s events. Was the man with the eyepatch behind it all? Was he the puppet master? There was no evidence of voodoo, in fact quite the contrary much to his disappointment. The man’s gun was futuristic and inhuman. Nate had accidently shot a squirrel with it and in silence the gun had rendered the squirrel deceased without any marks or signs whatsoever. It was definitely the murder weapon. There was a knock on the door. “Come in!” Nate shouted without moving.

The door slammed open and three humanoid figures charged in. All were protected by strange metallic armour, the likes of which Nate had ever seen. All were armed with the guns that ‘Captain Eyepatch’, as Nate had christened him, had been armed with. Their skin was visible beneath the armour as scaly and green. Aliens. That was what the Stranger had given as the answer to the conundrum. Nate had though that the incident earlier had proved him wrong also. Nate had been wrong again apparently. “Flesh bag. Surrender to our superiority and come with us. Come to the hive...”

Nate blinked as the bag was lifted from his eyes and he was thrown into the cell. He glanced around at the others in the cell: Sophie, Richard, Scott and Roy. No sign of Arthur though. “Hi,” he muttered awkwardly. He was met by angry silence. “Who knew silence was so loud,” he added. He waited for a laugh but none came so he added it himself. They looked at him like he was crazy. In fairness he went around calling himself Anonymous Chicken so he may well be insane. “So...”

Arthur looked at the keypad, his eyes showing the cogs working inside his mind. He reached forwards and keyed in the code. He wasn’t sure how he knew it but he did. The warehouse door slid open and he stepped inside. It was dark, he expected that. It was a spaceship after all.

“There’s a mole.” Nate announced. “What are you babbling about?” Richard snapped. Scott glanced at him uneasily. Scott had been about to say something similar and he hadn’t expected Richard to do it for him. Richard was usually pretty easy going if young and impatient. “He’s right,” Sophie said. “I thought the same thing when the man attacked me.” Roy laughed, “We need a better name than ‘the man’” Nate put his hand up as if in a classroom, “Captain Eyepatch,” he said proudly. “No.” Scott replied. “Back to the mole...” Sophie tried to keep them on-topic.

Arthur navigated his way through the tunnels and passageways filling the warehouse. It wasn’t actually a warehouse: that was the perception filter. It was a ship from deep in unknown space. He heard heavy footsteps nearby and hid behind a conveniently placed barrel full of ‘Nimphiax Acid.’ Or that’s what the label said anyway. 2 of the lizard-men that had captured the others walked by, hissing to each other in a language that Arthur didn’t know. He leaped out from behind them rolling the barrel at them. It hit one and knocked it down to the ground with a thud. He scooped up the reptile’s weapon and aimed it at the other firing. The alien fell dead. The other was back on its feet now and rushed at the Stranger with its arms outstretched, clawing at the air in front. Another blast hit it in the chest knocking it back down, also dead.

“I know who the mole is,” Sophie declared. All of the others looked a little nervous at that. “Oh,” Nate asked. “Yes.” Sophie swallowed hard and pointed over to her left, “Him.” They followed her finger to find it pointed directly at Roy. “Sophie!” he shouted outraged, “I’m not a good person, since my father died, I’ve been an alcoholic arse, but you’ve been there for me. I’d never betray you. I...” he stopped himself. “I’m sorry Roy, but I don’t believe you,” she said with a tear swelling in her eye. Scott and Richard glanced at eachother. “She’s right...” Richard said with a sigh. “Well...” Nate butted in, “Not quite...”

Arthur kept the barrel with him. It was heavy but he needed it. He reached a sealed circular door and he unscrewed the top. Silently he poured it over the metallic substance and with a faint hiss, it started to eat away at the door.

“Damn you!” A voice called at Nate as the small and nimble figure tackled him to the ground. “I’ll rip out your eyes!” Richard Cassidy screamed at the top of his voice, choking him. Scott and Roy grabbed his shoulders tossing him aside. Richard bashed his fist into the wall and it slid away. He stepped outside and bars fell down trapping the other four. “How did you know?” he spat out. “I didn’t,” Nate admitted coughing. “I just thought that if I bluffed knowledge you’d show yourself...” Richard paused considering this. “Damn you...” he muttered walking away. Sophie gulped, “Roy... I ...” Roy just shook his head and turned away.

Richard turned into the central control system to find 3 dead lizard-men and 2 dead humans on the ground and all the computer systems eaten away at by the acid. “Looking for me?” the thick Irish accent of Arthur Jurgens commented as he swung his fist at Cassidy. Richard ducked, grabbing Arthur’s arm and twisting it until he heard the Stranger scream.

As Sophie tried to explain herself to Roy, Nate found himself stroking the bars. “What in God’s name are you doing?” Scott demanded. “In God’s name? Nothing. In my name, I’m trying to find a weak point.” “How you doing with that?” “Not so well...” Nate pounded his fist into the bars in frustration. To his surprise the bars then slid up. “Okay...” he muttered. “That was what Richard did,” Scott commented, “good thinking.” Nate tried to hide the fact it wasn’t intentional but judging from Scott’s eye rolling he didn’t do so well at that. At that point they all heard a scream. Rushing out they saw, Richard with his arm wrapped around Arthur’s throat, slowly choking him to death.

Arthur felt his vision start to blur. He resigned himself to his fate as he saw his comrades standing still in fear. He realised it had all been in vain. The truth would never come out and no-one would ever know just who Arthur Jurgens really was. Then his eyes fixed on another one of the guns on the floor, just within reach. His foot struck out knocking it over to the others’ feet. “Shoot, dammit!” he managed to shout out before he lost consciousness.

Nate grabbed the gun and dived forwards firing. It wasn’t like the others, this one fired some kind of laser that struck Richard on the shoulder. He dropped Arthur stumbling back and pulling a gun of his own from his pocket. Nothing fancy, just an Earth gun. A pistol to be precise. He fired. Sophie gasped as the bullet sprung forwards towards her chest. She guessed she really was going to get shot tonight. She gulped. It had been a good life. She just wished she’d had a chance to properly tell Roy she was sorry.

The bullet hit flesh, striking into the chest and drawing blood. Roy gasped as he collapsed to the floor. “Roy!” Sophie called out, holding him in her arms. He’d taken a bullet for her. “I’m so sorry...” she started. Roy put a finger to her lips. “I know...” he said as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. “You $%*&#!” she screamed, grabbing the gun from Nate and firing, shot after shot. Each hit Richard one by one knocking both the breath and the life out of him. He fell to the ground dead. Sophie fell to her knees breathing heavily. Scott put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. “What’d I miss?” Arthur’s voice sounded as he pushed himself back to his feet.

Epilogue

Sophie and Scott stood in Roy’s apartment watching as their fellow agents stripped away his belongings to a safe house to be processed then sold on. It was usual procedure for an agent’s death when there were no living relatives. Then they heard a knock on the door. “I got it...” Sophie said, her voice was weak and unsecure. Scott nodded. Director White was beckoning him over anyway. Sophie opened the door to see a small bearded man in a black suit with an old, tattered white tie on. “Hello?” Sophie said. “Sorry, I was looking for Roy Allen’s place...” he said turning to leave. “No, this is the place. He’s not available at the moment.” The man nodded. “He wanted me to drop this off for him, can you give it to him for me,” he said handing her a small black box. She nodded; she didn’t have the strength to tell him Roy was dead. She took the box and closed the door. She went to put it down but curiosity got the better of her. She opened it. Sophie Smith gasped as she saw the small golden ring inside with the shining blue diamond on top. Inscribed inside was ‘Sophie Smith – My Anchor’

Nate stood outside his office, watching his sign being taken down by workmen. “Retiring?” The thick Irish voice of a stranger asked from behind him. “yeah,” he confessed, “I’ve decided the magic of the universe is gone...” The Stranger nodded. “You know,” Nate started, “If what you told me about your past is true then the answers you were looking for would have been on that ship. You know, if you hadn’t destroyed all the systems.” The stranger nodded again. “I know all I need to know about myself.” Nate shrugged. “You know there may not be magic, but there are aliens...” The Stranger called as he left. Nate pondered this for a moment. “Anonymous Chicken Extra-Terrestrial Investigator. It does have a ring to it...”