**_THOMAS_**

“So, who’s gonna die today?”

I watch patiently behind the woman as she stalks back and forth in front of five tied and gagged hostages. Her heels _click! click! click!_ on the concrete floor of the warehouse. Jack only gave me a post-it note with an address of it; the door to the warehouse was unlocked anyway.

Jack had sent me here for backup if the investigators found something.

Just in case.

I sniff in her direction. Jasmine, orange, and something _red_ fills my nose. She isn’t exactly one of us, but she’s close. Maybe in that middle part of it. But if Jack didn’t need her, she’d be the first eaten out of everyone in here.

One of the hostages finally takes notice of me, and struggles against his bindings. The woman turns around.

She smiles. _Red red red_.

“So you must be Thomas Meers, yes? A big one you are, handsome too despite the glasses.”

She has a gun in her hand, the edges curled with shapes of roses. Custom made, then. She takes pride in her work.

All the hostages look at me now, eyes dimming back to fear rather than hope.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

She laughs, a dainty giggle behind her dark hand. “Oh no, no. Jack and I go way back, so it’s glad to see that he actually remembers me. How’s that Adon of his?”

I grunt. “Fine. We need your help.”

“Not even going to ask for my name, are you? Nevermind the matter, you may call me Treasure.” She cocks her gun and shoots the bullet through a hostage’s head, never letting go of my gaze. He falls to the ground, what seems to be his brain splattering the floor below him. Blood pools where his head rested on the ground. The other four hostages start to squirm again; they start to scream against their gags.

“When do you want me to start?”

***

**_SADIE_**

There’s nothing here. _How_ is there _nothing_ here?!

Confusion is lined on Young’s face. She’s looking around the bedrooms—under the beds, in the closets.

Nothing.

Holland, Adon eating a granola bar in his lap, is on the couch facing the hallway. Every time we come out empty handed, relief passes across his face. Finally done with the bedrooms, we move towards what Holland called “Jack’s Study”.

“Oh—uhm—you can’t go in there!”Young and I look back to see Holland reaching towards us, stuck to the couch with Adon on him. “Well. You can, but—I—“

Just then, the door opens. A tall Asian man steps out with a confident smile on his face. Jack Holt. “Hello, there. What is this all for?”

“Oh, I’m sure you know what we’re here for.” I don’t like his eyes, they seem…calculative. Always thinking. Always plotting.

“We are from the GPD; Young and I are private investigators from the unit.” We hold out our badges, and Jack nods, taking time to cock his head and examine both fully.

When he’s done, he opens the door wider to his study. “May I ask what this is all for?”

“They think we took a woman named Penny King from an asylum or something,” Adon shoves the rest of his granola bar into his mouth, “I dunno.” He stands up from where he sat on Holland, the angel man was shock still and picking at the end strands of his hair, and went into the kitchen with his plastic.

“May we go inside, sir?” Young asks, returning to the matter at hand.

Jack moves out of our way and goes to the couch where Holland is less fidgety than he was. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Young and I, after a wary glance, go inside the office.

That’s when we hear the screams.

***

**_AUBREY_**

I would have been fine if no one came out of the apartments. It’s a struggle to contain my Itch at times, but if I try really hard, I can.

Of course, it just all had to explode when a woman came out of her apartment. She had her purse with her; she was going shopping, maybe?

That doesn’t matter.

Now, after screaming, she’s on the ground, choking on her own blood as I bite deep into her throat. Tears start to fall down my face and onto hers as she stares at me with wide eyes, pleading.

_Caramel eyes._

Why _caramel_?

She isn’t Talia—she isn’t—it’s obvious. Her hair is curly and blonde, her skin is a peachy color.

But her _eyes_.

A shot rings out, and I grunt, rolling off the woman as something cold and metal drives deep into my left shoulder. I twist my head to see blood—_ladybugs_—bloom under my shirt.

“Stop right there! Don’t move!”

I look to see two women, one much older than the other one, dressed in police attire. The older one is holding a gun pointed at me, the other has her hand on hers, face drawn but body shaking.

Behind them are three men. Two men she didn’t recognize—and _him_.

“Young,” says the older woman, “Get the handcuffs.” The younger woman, Young, brings them out, stalking towards me.

The Asian man from before tilts his head, grinning with his phone near his ear. He’s being the women, so they don’t see when he mouths something to me.

_Aubrey Taps?_

I nod to it, not even caring as I’m most likely going to die, and try to move. The pain in my arm causes me to grit my teeth. The woman that I bit is still on the ground, caramel eyes staring into the skin blankly.

And as if the situation can’t get any worse, the older woman shoots me again. “I said don’t move!”

My Itch has fully resided from my killing. It would’ve been helpful right now, damn the thing.

_Click! Click! Click!_

“Oh! You are _so_ right, Thomas!” A rich voice says behind me. “That’s so—oh—what happened here?”

I see from the corner of my eye that the Asian man pushes the other men the way that the voice came. Young stops trying to grab my wrist and stares behind me, as well as the older woman.

Two stocking wrapped legs stop beside my head. The heels on them are large and expensive looking, but I’m bleeding so much that I don’t particularly care. I’ve never felt so weak in my entire life.

The legs crouch before me.

A hand brushes my thin hair out of my face.

Caramel overwhelms my vision.

Caramel?

“Ma’am,” says the older woman, “I need you to step away—“

_Bang! _

“OFFICER SADIE!”

“Alright everyone!” I recognize the voice as the Asian man’s. “It’s time to make out leave—it was a pleasure meeting you ladies. Now we must take our leave.”

Broad hands grab my body and drape me over an even bigger back. A shoulder pokes me against my stomach. But so much blood. So many ladybugs.

I close my eyes, the sounds of click! click! click! and sneakers against concrete lulling me to sleep.

What did my life become?

***

_(Sorry it’s kinda lazy, just didn’t want to make a part three of this so I had to mush everything together. Why not a part three—well—I want to move on with the series besides this investigation part. I also want to feature Oliver (the spectator) and his lover (who is yet to be named). _

_As always, thanks for reading and tell me what you think about _Judges of Man_ so far! This is my…tenth one?…(yes, no?) Have a great day! _❤️_)_