Unveiled Corpse

I lay in my bed despite being awake for hours, conversing with my mind, questioning my life. I did that a lot. I was trapped in an isolated room with a murderer last night and almost died, only escaping by some god-given miracle that is the small fighting tricks Sonders taught me.

Yet again proving the importance of knowledge. No matter from who or where or what that knowledge is, the more you know of the world, the more powerful you become.

Silas kissed me.

Of all the events from last night, this is the one that plunges me off my bed, throwing me into a fit of panic.

He kissed me. All these years, I hated him and he hated me- we only ever thought of each other as academic competitors. He served as nothing but motivation for me to annihilate him. Never- never as anything more and yet... I might-

No.

No, I immediately cease whatever dangerous thought that dares exist.

I shake my head, erasing such trivial worries. I touch the cut on my chest, my mind adjusting to the eerie revelations of last night, of Waylen.

Even the thought of him sends shivers down my spine, paranoia surrounding me.

I need to tell Sonders everything. The wound I reaped at the hands of that man- Dimitri, was enough physical evidence to arrest him and Waylen. To protect the world of their murderous scheming.

I think of that strange night in the library, the odd performance and still unsure of why Waylen was there.

Hide it.

His command to Dimitri rings in my head. Hide what?

I clutch my coat, it's scent transporting me back to the very moment last night, when his knife made contact with my skin, drawing my blood. Illuminating the memory of punching his throat and rushing out the door with nothing but my gun.

The gun.

I scramble to the table in search for it, shoving it in one of the coat pockets before hastily leaving my dorm.

~~~

"Eleanor." Says a stunned Hart. "What are you doing here?"

His eyes skip from side to side as he brings me to a quiet corner.

"Hart. What's happening? I haven't heard a word from Sonders or anyone on the case, you said you'd keep me posted." I explain. "Speaking of which, where is Sonders?"

He stares at me through his brows with an earnest expression. "She's at the morgue."

"Why?" I ask, slowly. He doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at me with the same serious look. I repeat my question, unsure if I want the answer, "Hart, why is Noelle in the morgue?"

"We found another body this morning. Around Barton." He finally says.

I bite the inside of my cheek.

Damn it.

How did he manage another one this fast?

Anger seeped inside my bones.

This ends now.

Without so much as acknowledging what he said, I run out the door.

"Eleanor, wait!" Hart shouts behind me. I ignore him as I hail a cab.

Slamming the door behind me I say, "To the morgue on Tidmarsh lane."

I crack my knuckles in defeat. This was so far out of my control it physically made me sick.

My hand clasps the door handle the entire ride, itching to get out. The car still hadn't stopped as I push open the door and jump out, sprinting to the morgue.

"Ma'am, wait! You can't just-" shouts a woman behind me.

I ignore her completely. "Noelle! Noelle!" I yell, running through the corridors. Nothing but empty rooms and so many faces but none are Sonders.

I climb up a flight of stairs, hoping I find her on the second level. I pass rooms of crying families, morticians preparing for embalming until-

"We still haven't heard from any family members of the John Doe." Says a familiar voice.

I almost rip the door off it's hinges when I hear Sonder's voice.

Eyes on me.

Sonders and another woman who wears a white coat, a pathologist.

"Eleanor?" My friend says, stunned.

My eyes skip to hers for a moment before staring down at the corpse that lays in the mortuary cabinet, covered by a white cloth.

"Who are you?" The woman in white asks, a skeptical brow raised.

"Someone who should've been here from the beginning." I look to Sonders who gives me an unapologetic look, almost confused.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, walking in front of the body in a feeble attempt to hide it.

"That." I answer, pointing behind here. "There's another body and you didn't tell me?"

"Doctor, may we have a moment please?" She tilts her head towards the woman who nods immediately.

"No." I say, "Tell me about him, Doctor."

She looks at Sonders as if asking for permission.

"Well," She begins, pushing her glasses farther on her nose. "His face is unrecognizable, unlike the other bodies, he was beaten to death."

"May I?" I walk toward the body, my fingers hesitantly dance upon the white cloth. I don't give them time to respond to my request, I pull the sheet.

Eyes widening, my palm slaps to cover my gasp. I whip my head around, granting my mind a moment to let the ghastly image sink in.

Oh god.

The eyes had sunken in so deep, only a sliver of white was visible, the surrounding area covered in bulging bruises- purple and red fighting to cover his entire complexion. His entire face was almost inflated with how swollen it was, lips ripped and split almost shrivelled up with the lack of teeth. The bridge of his nose, collapsed.

I clutch my stomach in fear of spilling my insides.

The doctor covered just his face with another cloth before continuing her explanation, "Upon closer investigation, we noticed that both arms were dislocated- one of them had been put back in place just to be dislocated once more. He did try fighting back if we look at his hand." Her gloved hand pulls out his, pointing to his bruised knuckles.

"How was he found?" I ask Sonders, pursing my lips in repulsion, in guilt.

"Some pedestrian found him in an alleyway when throwing away their rubbish, said he'd seen him around the streets, doesn't think he has any family." She responds, eyebrows rised in disappointment but not shock- she was never shocked anymore. "He's completely deviated from his MO. Before it was just slight differences but everything was for a reason, calculated. This... This wasn't planned, it was a spur of the moment and it was angry. A crime of passion. It was overkill. He'd died long before the killer stopped hitting him."

I look back at the body, unable to fathom how?

Why?

"Officer. Sonders, I require your approval on a few things." The doctor says guiding her toward the desk in the corner, asking her to fill some forms.

I ignore them completely, all my attention stolen by the corpse. I look at his weak tattooed arms, slim bruised torso, his hands and the dirt and blood under his nails. His other hand was held in a sort of fist, I touch it, flinching at how cold he was. I slightly open his fist to flatten his hand down when something shiny catches the light.

I tilt my head, cautious to not garner any attention. I move his fingers away to reveal a ring.

A thick silver ring. Rapidly, I pick it up and inspect it. Something black was engraved on it.

The letter 'W'.

I seize in my spot.

"What floor?"

I remember Dimitri's toothy grin as he spoke to me in the elevator, pressing the button to go up. The very same ring adorning his finger.

"Sonders!" I yelp. Her head whips to me.

"It's Chamberlain. It's been him this whole time." Her eyes search my own in confusion.

I pull my shirt, exposing the wound I was gifted at the hands of Dimitri, by the command of Waylen.

"I visited him last night and he had me attacked by a man he calls Dimitri. The very man who wore this ring." I announce desperately, holding up the ring.

She rushes to me, slapping on a glove and grabbing it from me. "Call forensics." She demands the doctor, placing the ring in an evidence bag.

She pulls me outside, "Talk."

I tell her everything. I tell her the truth about Waylen's accident, the night at the library.

"Hart. Hart, do you copy? Send all units to the nursing home and around a three mile radius of the place, I want the town to be swarming with police, you hear me?" She doesn't waste another second alerting the entirety of the station.

"Arrest Waylen Chamberlain for multiple accounts of murder in the first degree." She yells into her radio.

"What are you talking about, Sonders?" He replies back with an anxiety ridden voice.

"Just do it. I'll explain everything when I get there." She commands.

Without consulting her, I hail a cab.

"Where are you going?" She asks, adjusting her radio.

"You've got more than enough people there and they only need you. I'll be more useful if I try finding out who this Dimitri is." I explain, before slipping into the car.

~~~

Tightening my coat, I rush into the desolate station save for a couple rookies. I make my way to Sonders computer and search through the system for the name Dimitri in Oxford. About a dozen results come up, I limit it to around the age of 40-45 which gives me two men- neither are the perpetrator I am searching for. I wiggle my fingers atop the keyboard, racking my brain to think of something. I give up on Dimitri and search up Waylen Chamberlain. I look through his files.

Almost empty. Nothing but minor purchases, except-

I look at his financial accounts.

A $10,000 transfer.

What or who would require that much money?

I click onto it.

Transferred to an unknown account.

Everything has a beginning, no matter how hidden it may be.

I cross reference it's IP address with every available account in Oxford.

And there it is.

$10,000 to a Dimitri Vasiliev.

I vigorously type his name into the system of immigrants in the last ten years.

' Name: Dimitri Igor Vasiliev

Age: 42

Occupation: Unemployed

Residence: Rose Hill'

I grin in pleasure.

I radio in Sonders.

"Swarm Rose Hill, Noelle." A devious smirk tugs on my lips, relief washing over me.

Crazed laughter sounds through the radio, "Legend, Eleanor!"