Chapter 1: Introduction
Chapter Text
CASE FILE
Cold Case #3310256
THE MISSING CHILDREN OF UTAH
Start of Investigation: 13.02.1983
End of Investigation: 22.10.1987
Case Re-assigned Date: 25.5. 1993
Re-assigned to: Detective Jo. Harmon NYPD/ Detective Atlas Latter NYPD
Case Status: On-going
PROFILE
Michael Afton
Full Name: Michael 'Mike' Afton
Date of Birth: 21.06.1967
Age: 26
Occupation: Unknown
Current Status: Uknown
Family: Mr William Afton - Mrs Clara Afton, Elizabeth Afton, Evan Afton
Current area of Residence: Hurricane, Utah
PROFILE
Detective Jo. Harmon
Full Name: #&%*$(@)#($*%^!&#*
Date of Birth: 16.11.1968
Age: 25
Occupation: Year 1 Detective in the NYPD
Current Status: Temporary relocation & assigned with Cold Case #3310256
Family: Mr Hugo Harmon - Mrs Melody Harmon - Adora Jess Harmon
Current area of Residence: Brooklyn, New York
PROFILE
Detective Atlas Latter
Full Name: Atlas Cole Latter
Date of Birth: 27.09.1967
Age: 26
Occupation: Year 1 Detective in the NYPD
Current Status: Temporary relocation & assigned with Cold Case #3310256
Family: Mr Colin Latter - Mrs Fidela Latter
Current area of Residence: Brooklyn, New York
Addition Notes:
- Do note that this story will follow the timeline of the FNAF lore (as close as possible but there will be some inaccuracy, forgive me)
- The story follows the overall lore of Fnaf, with some alteration, so prepare yourself
- Lastly, enjoy reading!
Chapter Text
CASE REPORT #1
Report Title: Welcome Back
Date Report: 1.3.1993
Time of Report: 5.45 pm
Reporting Officer: Jo. Harmon
Hurricane, Utah
Jo had never imagined herself back, here again, staring dead at the stoic sign that read
“WELCOME TO HURRICANE”
Jo couldn’t fathom the thought of anyone being excited to come to such a barren place, sure it’s a lovely town with lovely residents where nothing ever happens. The place is nothing but the colours beige, orange and brown, nothing but randomly scattered diners and restaurants, nothing but old rich neighbourhoods stuffed with old rich people - the perfect destination for retired skunks. Hurricane contained nothing but dreaded nostalgia and the smell of slightly burnt pizza dough from her many years here, it was simply unpleasant for Jo and to this day, she never understood why her parents had randomly decided to ship their entire family from London all the way to Utah. The answers had always been somewhere between wanting to enjoy the American lifestyle or being stacked with a pile of disposable income just waiting to be spent.
“Well, that’s all of our things.”
Jo turned to her partner, who wheeled their luggage up next to her, their eyes glued onto a piece of the pamphlet. "And I've got our cars," Jo forced a smile, tossing a pair of car keys at Atlas, who caught it with much ease. "Well then, off we go," Atlas sighed, tucking the pamphlet they had earlier into the back pocket of their trousers before strolling out of the car rental building they were in. Jo followed swiftly along- her suitcase gripped firmly between her fingers. Jo ought to help Atlas search for their department-issued vehicles, however, her mind could not help but wonder back to the events a few days ago- the event that lead them to be here in this deadpan land called Hurricane.
Also, why name a town Hurricane if there's nothing but sand and more sand? Aren't hurricanes supposed to be thunderstorms? The complete opposite of that miniature town?
If she just hadn't messed up that simple case she had back in New York, they wouldn't be in this mess right now, if she had followed simple protocol, her captain wouldn't have been furious and relocated her, if she just did her job, she would still be back in New York - cracking yet another case. Maybe Jo should have just swallowed her pride and wished she had begged for a cold case in New York instead. Anything back in Brooklyn would be much more than whatever they have here.
"Sir, please. It was a mistake you know that-" Jo pleaded from across the desk, her palms planted firmly against the polished wood.
"Of course I do Harmon, but there's nothing else I can do. You simply ignored simple protocol and left your post," her captain repeated, his back pressed against the back of his chair.
Jo scoffed, pushing her weight off the desk and slumping back down onto her chair, arms folded. "I was just following my instinct-"
"And I'm not blaming you for it, detectives have instincts and that's a common thing," Her captain heaved a deep sigh, "But you've allowed a major drug lord to escape, thus jeopardising 6 months' worth of work."
"So now what..."
"NYPD protocols require me to have you suspended for at least a month,"
Jo pressed her lips into a thin line, her eyes anywhere but her captain.
"But I know you're one of my best detectives, so I talked to One Police Plaza and managed to get you off suspension."
"Really?" Her eyes met his.
"However, I will have to relocate you and reassign you to another case."
"Where."
"Hurricane, Utah..."
Her brows knitted against one another, "Sir no offence to those living there but there's literally nothing in Hurricane. Maybe some sort of bicycle theft or attempted robbery may occur but other than that, there's nothing else."
"It was the best I could do for you," her captain spoke, pulling out a thin file from beneath his desk. "I understand you had a history in Hurricane so I figured it would be fitting for you."
Jo eyed the thin piece of the file, craving for any sort of information within its paper walls. "You'll be assigned to a cold case there-"
"Cold. Case?" One could only guess how much this girl could frown.
"Yes," tossing the thin file across the desk, her captain watched as the expression on Jo's face twisted more and more while she flipped through the file. "There's only a piece of paper here..."
"You'll get more information at the station in Hurricane, you'll leave in a week."
Jo closed the file, her mind racing with confusion. On one end, this could easily have been a loose-end case that she will soon be forced to sit with for at least a month, and on the other, it could be some sort of mystery case no detective could solve till now. Though the possibility of that happening seemed unlikely. Again, Hurricane is infamous for being mundane and dry, nothing ever happens there and Jo was not looking forward to sitting at a desk for a month.
"Oh and, take Atlas with you," Her captain spoke, pulling Jo out of her thoughts. "You could use a pair of eyes looking out for you."
"Ah, here they are-" Atlas spoke, stopping right in front of the two most basic-looking vehicles known to man in the 1990s. "Good Job," Jo smiled, bringing herself out of her daze and staring at the vehicles before her.
"What the fuck are these?" Jo said, her dark eyes darting behind the two cars. Of course, the department spent the bare minimum in getting their detectives a proper vehicle, Jo wouldn't be surprised if they didn't care if the cars exploded with the detectives in them. "They seem decent to say the least..." Atlas spoke, pulling the car door open with a nasty creak. "At least they have cupholders."
The slight tilt formed on the corners of her lips, it was a relief for Jo that Atlas was able to look at the brighter side of things. She did not feel any guilt that Atlas was doomed to Hurricane along with her, they did choose to come along despite Jo's warning about the possibility of being stuck to desk duty for a month. "Alright, we need to head to the police precinct and register ourselves into it for the month."
"Yea, can't wait," Jo scoffed, prying her own car door open. "Hey, Atlas?"
Atlas hummed, poking their head out his car window.
"Do you mind heading to the precinct first? I- kind of want to check some things out..." Jo forced a smile, her dark eyes scanning their expression. "Yea, no problems," Atlas flashed the girl an assuring smile, turning their attention back to trying to get the car to start. They knew of Jo's past with the place and that she most likely only wished to revisit the places she grew up in. "Just make sure you answer your phone, alright?"
Jo smiled, genuinely this time, "I will, even if I'm dead at the bottom of a ditch."
Atlas chuckled, finally getting the car to start. "And don't you think about scooping up some random case while you're gone."
"Of course, I wouldn't dare to," Jo scoffed, faking a dramatic tone and pressing a hand to her chest.
The other laughed, slamming their door shut and waving Jo goodbye before taking off.
Jo's gaze trailed after the car until it was out of sight before entering her own.
Starting the engine, she knew exactly where she was headed.
The Afton Residence.
Notes:
A/N:
Here's a short beginning to the story :)Updates will most likely be once every week, the standard HEHE
I hope you sort of enjoyed this chapter!! :^]Character insight:
- Jo is half Chinese from her mother's side
- Atlas is non-binary
Chapter 3: CASE REPORT #2
Chapter Text
CASE REPORT #2
Report title: House of Ghosts
Date of Report: 1.3.1993
Time of Report: 6.15 pm
Reporting officer: Jo. Harmon
The drive over to the Aftons’ was surprisingly pleasant.
With all that time alone on the wheel, Jo was able to catch up on the daily crossword puzzle in the paper that she missed that morning. Oh, how she loved the thrill of successfully juggling the wheel and solving puzzles all in her head- Atlas would surely murder her if they found out but lucky for Jo, they aren't. Plus driving and solving puzzles was not an issue in Jo’s eyes; instead, she deemed it to be much more effective and productive - time spent on some good mental exercise. Moreover, the possibility of death gave Jo a sick thrill, like some forbidden drug coursing through her veins making her yearn for more. This was another major reason why Jo took the detective job in the first place, it's a way for her to dive into the unknown, to seek adventure in the great wide somewhere. But Jo couldn't write that down back in the police academy, instead she had to put down some mediocre reason like how it's her duty to protect the citizens of New York or something, when they asked.
Her parents, however, had differing opinions of her career choice. Her father couldn't care less as long as she was bringing in enough money to support herself and her family when in need - he was surprisingly supportive of it. Unfortunately, her mother wasn't as thrilled as her father was nor did she care about the money. She was relieved that Jo was able to secure a steady paycheck but heavily worries about the danger that came with the job - saying how Jo was more likely to get shot than to shoot a gun on the force thus she has suggested the paths of being a doctor or perhaps a lawyer, to which both were refused by Jo. It was true that these careers were much more comfortable and rewarding for her family - considering that she was the first female in her mother's family to attend University but most doctors turn psychotic in the end and lawyers are overrated debaters in an expensive suit.
Speaking of her parents, right as Jo pulled her vehicle up to the neighbourhood where the Aftons were located, her phone began to ring and violently shook itself off the dashboard.
"Oh god, jeez-" Jo grumbled, picking up her brick-of-a-cell off the floor of her car before answering it.
"Hello-"
"Oh my god, there's our lil girl!" The voice from the other side of the line thundered. "Melody, dear? Come talk to our daughter!"
"Geez Baba, lower your voice…" Jo mumbled, bringing her car to a stop on the side of the street. Right as she switches the engine off, an ear piercing squeal rang through the speaker of her cell. "Lili! Is that you, my little water lily?"
Jo sighed, "Yes Ma, it's me."
"Are you doing alright!? Have you been sleeping enough?? Where are you right now? And have you been drinking your water?" A wave of questions immediately flooded her way, but nothing Jo wasn't prepared for. "Yes. Yes. I'm in Hurricane right now and yes, Ma."
All of these were well rehearsed, her mother always asked the same questions whenever they called.
"Hurricane? On what bloody earth are you there for Sweetie?" Her dad spoke from afar.
Yea no.
They can't know that the only reason why Jo is in Hurricane was because of some slip up she didn't mean for. If they found out how close she was to death, even worse - suspension from the force, she might as well just jump off a cliff right now.
"Well y'know. Visiting?" Jo spoke, managing to choke out some half ass reason that she prayed her parents wouldn't venture more into it.
"Oo! Are you and Michael finally together?" Another voice rang from the back of the phone.
"Wha- Adora!? You're with Ba and Ma?"
"Of course," Adora's voice grew louder. "It's a free vacation to Taiwan, how could I say no?"
"Right…" Jo sighed, rolling her eyes as she unbuckled herself from the seat. "How could I forget the annual Ba and Ma trip."
"Yup, and Ba's paying for everything."
Jo chuckled, taking a step out of the vehicle. It has been awhile since she had properly spoken to her family and she would be lying if she said that this conversation wasn't somewhat enjoyable.
"So, you're finally visiting Michael?" Adora spoke.
"What makes you think that?" Jo smirked, pacing up to the Afton's driveway.
"Well maybe it's because you haven't seen him in 8 or so years and you've finally grown some balls to ask the guy out?"
Jo could feel a nasty smile growing on Adora's lips through the phone. "Haha, very funny Adora. I don't like Michael Afton."
"You're in denial," Adora scoffed. "And if I could, I'd bet you're standing right at their doorstep."
"No, I'm not?" Jo paused, staring straight back at her was a tall dark oak door. A golden plate, with the word "Aftons" engraved cleanly on it, bolted tightly against its wooden surface. An odd layer of dust sat on top of it.
"Well, our parents got distracted with yet another food stall, and I gotta join them," Adora spoke once more, pulling Jo back into the conversation.
"Oh right, yea, go ahead. I'll call you back in a bit."
That was a lie.
"Sure. Bye."
With that, the line cuts from the other end.
Awkwardly, Jo stuffed the brick cell into the depths of her coat pocket, bringing herself back to the odd layer of dust sitting on the gold plate. A spot of dust may seem typical to many households but not the Aftons - specifically, not the Aftons. They weren't known as clean freaks or germaphobes, but they're always spotless - or should Jo say that their outlook is always spotless. Jo's guess was so they could look presentable, look modern and slick - the Afton's image. So it was odd that Clara, Mrs Afton, didn't immediately send for some housekeepers to dust up that golden plate until it's spotless and shiny under the Utah sun.
It also couldn't be that they were on a vacation of sorts.
The missing pile of daily newspapers was missing on their post box and that if anyone knew Mr Afton remotely well, did know that he has a distaste for meaningless vacations. Even if he needed to travel for business, he wouldn't have brought his family, so someone has to be home.
"Hello?" Jo ramped her knuckles against the firm wood for a few. "Anyone home?"
No answer.
Oh well, worth the try.
Now for plan B.
It wouldn't hurt to break into an old friend's house, right?
Jo pulled out her trustee lockpick tucked away in her back pocket. She would never leave the house without the comfort of one. Jamming the pick into the lock slot, Jo began to work her magic. She didn't even bother trying to not appear suspicious, she knows this neighbourhood well enough to understand that nothing gets reported to the police here - not even something as suspicious as a sleep deprived woman in her 20's breaking into a wealthy family's property. The neighbours are much content with staying out of other's business than the safety of their neighbours.
No wonder children go missing all the time.
A click and the door swung open, finally granting Jo access into the Afton manor. Of course the house wasn't anywhere as near to that of an actual Manor, but she and Michael did use to call it that. Poking fun at the fact that he was the prince of Hurricane and she was his humble servant.
Such fun times.
The wooden creaked as Jo pushed her way into the house to which she was immediately greeted with an empty parlour hall. Jo scanned her surroundings, her dark curious eyes running over every surface of the house expertly - as if she had done this a million times before. Unlike the golden plate on the front door, every other surface was close to spotless. Not perfect but clean.
Odd.
Not to mention the many major pieces of furniture missing from its place. The sofa, the tele, the tables - all gone. Yet the shelves of photo frames and books, coffee table and carpets remain as where they should.
There goes the possibility of them moving out.
Jo ventured up the flight of stairs, her fingers dancing against the polish railing as she climbed to the next level. All the pictures of the family still hung high along the stairway, all except one - the full family portrait.
Odd.
Her dark eyes lingered on the soulless members behind each frame. From the cheerful expression on a strawberry blonde girl to the cold stare displayed by her older brother.
Where did you go?
~
"That's a check Michael, that when-"
"I know what a check is Jo." The boy grumbled, his cheek snuggled firmly against his palm as he frowned at the chess pieces before him. "Well, good luck getting out of it without help this time," Jo remarked, folding her arms and straightening her back. It was as clear as day that the girl took enjoyment in her friend's mental stress. It took a while but he finally made his move, gleefully pushing his king out of the way and flashing Jo a playful grin. The proud smirk on her lips never faded, instead Jo confidently made her move, pushing the game into another check in her favour. Her smile only grew wider from seeing her friend's smug expression twist into agony. "You can't keep doing this to me Jo."
Jo laughed, "Oh I can dance on this line for as long as I need, Michael."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Michael teased, a hint of mischief danced behind his ocean blue eyes. "I have no idea what you mean," Jo denied.
"I don't even know why I even agreed to help you," Michael scoffed, tossing his body so he's now leaning against his bed board. "Maybe it's better if you'd just lose the championships."
"Fine by me," Jo shrugged, "If you're willing to give up that new walkman I promised you when I win the prize money." Michael squinted his eyes at Jo, contemplating on whether or not he should submit to her terms. "Fine, I'll help you," the boy groaned, pushing himself upright and stared at the chessboard once more. "I just don't understand why you asked me to help when you have a chess team who are capable of doing so."
"I'm used to the way they play. I needed something new," the girl spoke.
If she had to be honest, she only really asked him for help just so she could spend more time with him. Yes, she already was tutoring him with his studies but other than that, they rarely see each other. The two didn't attend the same highschool, nor are their families close, the only thing they had going for them was that they were neighbours - neighbours 3 blocks away to be exact. So Jo had to milk whatever time she could to spend more time with -Michael- her friend.
“Plus, I ought to get use to the feeling of winning eventually,’’ Jo smirked at Michael, earning a soft chuckle from him.
Michael
"MICHAEL!" a small scream rang from behind the boy's bedroom door, causing the two to jump from the bed.
Before they knew it, the bedroom door swung open in full force - hitting the wall at the back before revealing a small girl with wild strawberry blonde hair standing at the entrance. "Michaeeeelll, you said I can play with Jo once you're done studyingg." The girl ran towards Jo, throwing her upper body against Jo. “Elizabeth out! You're not allowed in my room." Michael argued, tossing a pillow at his sister. "And you're a big meanie!" Elizabeth shouted back, grabbing the pillow off her face and throwing it back at her older brother. "Eliza-" Jo spoke but was quickly cut off with another shout from Michael himself before the two siblings started a wrestling match. It was quite an odd sight, seeing a 12 year old girl throwing soft punches at her 16 year old brother. It was like watching a mosquito have its go at an elephant. Right as Jo finally decided to step in and break the siblings apart, another small and much more timid head popped into view from the door frame. "Jo?"
"Evan," Jo whispered, climbing off the bed before making her way to the youngest brother. "Hey buddy."
"What is going on?" The little boy asked, puppy eyes peering at the other two's squabble, his arms clutching onto his famous fredbear plush. "They're just being idiots," Jo chuckled, watching as Elizabeth pulled on Michael's brown hair and calling it hideous. "They are always like that, aren't they?" Evan snickered, pulling himself closer to the girl. Jo nodded in agreement. With that, Michael has finally wrestled his sister off him and raced her to the doorframe. "So where were we?" The boy smiled leaning against the doorframe. "She's just about to go play with me!" Elizabeth squelled, throwing herself against Jo and wrapping her arms around Jo's waist.
"Actually guys, I was just about to leave," Jo chuckled, finding their little competition to be hilarious. "It's almost 6 and if I'm any later, Cassidy's mum will have my head. And you don't want me headless, do you?"
Elizabeth screamed a no while Michael simply rolled his eyes. "Alright, I better send you on your merry way then." Michael smiled, tossing his friend her bag while his siblings tugged her into place. "But what about me?? You have to tutor Michael and babysit Cassidy so now you're too busy to hang out with meeee!" Elizabeth wined, her emerald eyes beaming up at Jo while her grip tightened with every word. "And me," Evan whispered, joining in with his sister.
"Well, if you can get your parents to hire me as your babysitter then I'm sure to have time to hang out with you guys," Jo winked. The Aftons were pretty comfortable with their lifestyle, Jo could only imagine the kind of pay she would get if she landed a job with them.
"Really??" Evan smiled, eyes sparkling and everything.
"No." Michael spoke, shoo-ing his siblings out of his room "Now scram, Jo's gonna be late and I don't want her head to be off the next time she visits." Jo smiled to herself as the two youngest argued while being shoved back into their rooms, finally leaving the two teens alone. Together.
"Well, I should probably walk you out," Michael said, turning back to face Jo.
"It would be an honour, your majesty" Jo smiled, a tease lingering in her tone as she descended the stairs, Michael following close behind. "Haha. Very funny Jo,"
"Oh, by the way," Michael started once the two reached the front door. "There's this party at my dad's dinner later this week and-d it's supposed to be some big birthday party thing for some lame kid..." the boy stuttered, his hand awkwardly placed behind his neck.
"What I'm trying to say is....do you want to...perhaps go together?"
"Sure."
"Wait really?" Michael stuttered, clear blue eyes pierced into Jo's dark ones.
"Yea," Jo replied. "Which day is it?"
"Sunday."
Oh.
"Michael...Sunday's the first day of the championships, I-" Jo started, her calm demeanour turning into a worried one.
That's why.
"Oh shit, fuck I forgot," Michael swore, his gaze avoiding Jo's. "Forget it then, the championship is much more important than some lame birthday party." The boy let out an awkward chuckle, moving to pull the front door open.
"Michael..."
"No sweat Jo, it's nothing really. I'm fine."
"Michael."
"You can't be here."
What?
~
"Hey Lady?" An echo sounded in the empty halls.
"What?" Jo mumbled, turning to find the source.
"You shouldn't be here lady." A man with dusty white hair spoke. His eyes lingered on the girl's figure in a suspicious way, as if Jo was some sort of alien who had just crash landed on earth. "How on earth did you get in anyways?"
Snapping out of her daydream, Jo answered, "I- I'm a family friend. I had a spare key so I let myself in." Another lie. The old man hummed, dragging his feet towards the dining area and shuffling the items around. "If you don't mind me asking," Jo started, speeding down the stairs and into the dining room. "Who are you?"
"You weren't informed by your friend?" The man spoke, collecting a outdated magazine from shelves. Jo shook her head. The man let out a heavy sigh before answering, "I'm the new housekeeper their oldest boy hired after the entire family met their demise."
"What?"
"You know?" The old man reached for a rake which was lying at the corner of the room. "To make sure the house is still standing, to clean the bloody place so very often."
"Where is he now? M-Michael?" Jo questioned, following close behind the old man. "How should I know?" Was his response. "The damn boy hired me, took all the furniture and left without a single trace," the old man continued, throwing his hands in the air and shaking his head in annoyance. "Said something about too much was within these walls for him to tear it down. And how it was too much for him to live here no more."
"How long ago was that?" Jo questioned yet again.
"What are you girl? A cop?" The man shot the girl a cold stare.
"No."
Another lie.
"I'm just curious," Jo spoke, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her coat. "Well that's what's getting us all killed aint it?" The old man mumbled, shuffling back towards the front door. "My advice, keep to yourself and not poke your nose into curious business. If you do, you may not wake up the next morning." The old man swung the front open before stepping out. "Look girl, you're free to roam the place. Just don't take anything. And when I leave. You leave."
The door slam shut.
Leaving Jo to the house yet again.
"I suppose I should get back to Atlas..." Jo spun around, taking one last look at the old ghost house. The house where she had once shared deep memories. Just as Jo was about to leave, something caught her eye from a far corner. A slick white name card hidden underneath a stack of old letters. A card with purple ink engravings, purple ink that read
Afton Robotics
Chapter Text
CASE REPORT #3
Report Title: Sister Location
Date of Report: 1.3.1993
Time of Report: 9 pm
Reporting officer: Jo. Harmon
Jo stood before the daunting building. Her dusty car was behind her and her coat waved under the night wind. The building before her sunk between the darkness of the night and the dim luminance of the single street light that Jo stood under. It had taken her longer than expected to reach this location because it was simply almost impossible to find. Not to mention, Jo had to make a quick pit stop at a local burger place on her way as there was no way she was continuing her search on an empty stomach.
Slowly, Jo moved towards the torn building.
The first thing she noticed was the smell.
It reeked of something sour and pungent - like a year-old garage waste mixed with a pile of dog shit.
Dog shit, that’s what this place was.
Jo wrinkled her nose, quietly wishing she had brought some kind of mask to help her tolerate this unbearable stench.
“How could anyone possibly work here?”
According to the various newspaper clippings and posters Jo managed to snatch on her journey here, this place was a running establishment - till this day. And even after Mr Afton had “allegedly” gone missing, according to the old housekeeper, the establishment was still running - requesting for employment and advertising its exciting new and improved animatronics.
But operated by who?
Well, that was Jo’s job to dig her nose into its business and find out.
Jo shivered under her coat as a small chill snaked down the back of her neck. The idea of Mr Afton had always creeped her out. Something about his unsettling smile, the deep eye bags under his pale eyes and his ridiculous purple suit sent unnerving signals to her brain. Every time she caught a glimpse of him in the house, her stomach dropped, her lips turned dry and her palms sweat. She never liked him but she could not show it. Jo had no idea what Mrs Afton saw in him, honestly. She would have been much better off if she had divorced the British man. Michael never liked him anyway. That was why every interaction she had with Mr Afton, not by Jo’s choice, was made brief and swift. A quick thanks and a smile for allowing her to visit Michael in their home, was all that was needed. At times, Jo would pull a polite praise and a practised bow if Jo needed Michael allowed out of the house for their many shenanigans. No more than two sentences were exchanged between the two. And neither would have wanted more.
A small smile crept its way onto Jo’s lips as the sweet memory of her and Michael running off into nothingness, away from home, seeped back into her mind. How the golden rays of the Utah sun would sting her skin as they ran, but Jo could care less. They would run and run, away from their homes, away from the boring and tedious town where there was no room for the scope of imagination. They had no destination in mind as children, all they wanted was to escape.
But of course, they were children back then.
The gold colours of childhood quickly drained and everything was either grey, blue or black now that they were adults.
Neither of them truly escaped.
Jo gripped the metal handle of the steel door and twisted, shoving the overweight door open and allowing herself into the building. The door screeched horrifyingly, like a loud child screeching at the top of its lungs before it finally slammed shut.
It was quiet.
Jo took in a breath, hearing the soft sound of air drawing into her lungs and out. Her heartbeat was up in her ear.
Jo blinked.
Her eyes strained to adjust to the darkness of her surroundings.
They really made sure to seal the place from the outside world - not a single crack of moonlight was allowed entry into the building. Jo clicked her tongue, reaching into the pocket of her coat before fishing out her trusty flashlight. With a single click, her pathway instantly lit up in a pale blue light, illuminating the ominous lift door that lay in front of her. Strange, there was nothing but emptiness around Jo. An empty registration desk with the name pledge flipped over, an empty dusted chair that spun upside down behind the desk, and a curiously disturbing poster of what seemed to be an animatronic named “
Circus Baby”
.
Ew
Circus Baby was something Jo would definitely not want to see at her birthday party. She has no idea what kind of parent would allow that thing to waltz into their five-year-old’s birthday party.
Some kid ought to be killed with this huge thing walking around.
Jo scoffed at the poster, turning her light away and towards the empty desk. Her eyes traced the cold surface of the desk. The dust pattern on the desk intrigued the detective, how it only seemed to collect at one side of the desk, away from the doorway. It was windy outside, any movement from the door would have caused the dust to go flying in the air. With the fact that the dust pattern was scattered to one side, but settled, told Jo that someone had been here a while ago, though not recent.
Jo flashed her light to the ground for any sign of a trail.
Dust - footprints - anything.
But only a singular drop of brown lay on the cold metal floor.
Jo frowned.
She trailed towards the lift door.
Its odd structure and mood of operation intrigued her further.
Of course, it would be Afton who had designed such horrid and atrocious things.
He never had an eye for design.
Jo pushed, sliding the odd metal lift doors open- finding the lift to be halfway up to her level. A sickening feeling fell to the bottom of Jo's stomach as she peered down. She once had to jump onto subway tracks to recuse a piece of evidence for a case, and she did do it again in a heartbeat, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to jump into the unappealing elevator - doubt clouded her head. Jo rid her mind of such nonsense and reminded herself of why she was here in the first place. She needed to know where her friend was, or at least wanted to know if Michael was at least doing alright - drop in for a quick hello. She owed him that much for leaving him behind those years ago.
Drawing in a tight breath, Jo hopped down.
Her boots crash onto the lift’s unsteady floor.
The metal walls creaked as it rocked back and forth. Echoing.
Curiosity swam within Jo’s dark eyes as she surveyed the rusty old elevator. It was structured in an odd circular shape and a dangerously large ventilation fan hung loosely above the detective. Jo moved towards the elevator panel on the wall, where a singular red button sat ominously, just screaming at her to press it. Having nothing to lose, Jo jabbed her elbow against the big red button - the worst that could happen was the elevator exploding and judging by the multiple wires hanging out of its corners and the many rows of pipes that were against the wall, it was a real possibility that it just would.
Lucky for Jo, the elevator creaked and moaned as it made its unstable way down into the unknown. The piercing screech of rusted metal spun above Jo, forcing her palms to either of her ears. The elevator kept diving down at a slow, monotonous speed while a musical tone played on its speakers. For all she knows, Jo could be taking the elevator straight down to hell.
Jo coughed. The amount of dust she was getting into her lungs was surely unhealthy. Taking this opportunity, Jo scanned every other untouched surface of the elevator. Her eyes peeked at the curious yellow slot stuck to the wall. Whatever it was meant to be holding was clearly missing.
Jo wondered what it could have been.
A fire extinguisher?
No, Mr Afton wouldn’t.
The elevator jolted to a stop, forcing Jo to tumble to the ground in a painful yelp.
The doors inched open bit by bit, getting stuck midway but wide enough for Jo to see the creepy vent that sat before her. Worn-out yellow tapes, with the word “DANGER” scattered all over, covered the entire top section. A poster of a robot, with the words Ballora, smiled down at Jo.
Jo forced down a gulp.
Her throat dry and her palms sweat.
Her light only grazed the darkness ever so lightly before it was engulfed entirely.
She should have called for backup, or even just the company of Atlas would have been nice.
But Jo had left her cell back on the dashboard of her car and even if she could ring for help, there would have been zero signal anyway. Jo could not back out now, she hated the feeling of being thwarted. Not when she had come down here in search of answers to her dying questions.
Jo had no choice but to push forward.
Tightening her grip around her flashlight and pulling her coat down tighter, Jo began to crawl.
Through the endless metal tunnel, her knees and elbows banged against the cold surfaces at every move. Jo was not too tall, nor was she short. But whoever made this vent must have meant for it to be some sort of torture method, making it barely spacious enough for a grown adult to squeeze through. Just barely. Making things much worse, Jo had a fear of tight spaces- claustrophobia. The experience was excruciating for her. Her lung squeezed against each other, making it difficult for Jo to shuffle in a tiny breath.
Jo crawled faster, not wanting to spend another second in that tight space and soon, her head popped free. Without having checked her surroundings, Jo threw her body out the vent and onto the metal floor, panting with relief as she was finally free from that hell hole.
Drawing a deep breath of stale air, Jo pushed herself up. Unlike the first room, Jo could see much more. A chilly green light illuminated the space around. The murky light blinked ever so often. Jo stared into the glass panels that lay on either side of her tight hallway. Barely seeing a thing through those stained glass and darkness. She tried the weird-looking panels on either side, pushing each button and anticipating for some action - anything but ominous silence. Nothing. Just silence and death.
In Jo’s usual expeditions, her widest and oddest experiences would have been finding a bag of human thumbs down the drains of New York or finding a goat’s head dismembered on top of a kitchen table at a crime scene. But none of them seemed to give Jo the chills like this place. All of those were certain, were known facts that Jo could easily spot from a mile away, but this- this was different. Everything was uncertain. Facts and clues completely clouded before her, so thick one could slice through it with a butter knife. Answers and clues seem to all be right in front of her but for some odd reason, Jo could not grasp it. Jo felt as if she was constantly being watched, the eyes of every poster, doll and picture sent her heart beating faster. But as she felt fear, adrenaline rose through her veins.
Michael couldn't possibly have been here
That familiar feel of a thrill was the only thing that kept her going, seeking and investigating every inch and corner of this horrifying location, crawling through tight vents and wandering through unnerving stages and control rooms. Every corner she turned, Jo expected to be jumped or to see someone or something lurking, but none. All that stood around her was darkness.
Jo itched, her skin crawled with anticipation.
She would much rather have something attacking her out of the blue than have to wander around aimlessly in the unknown. Then at least, she had something physical to attack.
Jo drew her gun from its holster.
She placed her flashlight and weapon in a standard police fashion.
No drawers or shelves were left unturned.
Every slip of information was stored in her brain.
She has to figure out what on earth is going on within this place.
Private Room
Jo pushed herself into the room. Ignoring the obvious sign that said “Unauthorised Personals are restricted”
Jo didn't give a shit.
An oddly stacked pile of screens lay greeted the detective as she entered.
All blacked out.
Jo tried switching the screens on, flipping through switches and buttons but to no avail.
Someone must have cut the power…
Jo moved her attention over the filing cabinets that were rusted along the corner. Jamming it open with a long metal stick, that was conveniently lying around, Jo scrolled through the numerous old files laid within. All were files containing blueprints of the many different animatronics. All scattered with numbers, measures, scale and raw scribbling. Jo paid attention to the handwriting as the scribbles. The writings turned from neat and organised side notes to scrawls and capitalised letters in the middle of the blueprint. The person who made these clearly had a mental breakdown somewhere in between.
Jo stole a particular blueprint with a neat set of writing and folded it before tucking it into one of her pockets- making a mental note to run matches back at the station. If she were lucky, she could run scans for prints too. If there did be any left on the paper.
Jo moved on to another cabinet, sitting alone at the corner of the room.
Employee Records
Jo pulled against the shelf.
Locked
Working hr magic once more, Jo scrolled the metal cabinet open before tucking the picks back into its rightful pocket. For a locked cabinet, there wasn't much files stored within it. Just three yellow files with the names of possible employees of this establishment.
Sabrina Ridley
Mike Schmidt
And Daniel Jones, whose file had a red stamp over it.
No photos were in any files, just shift allocation and their salary.
However, a check of $130.02, laid untouch within Mike Schmidt's file.
Jo thought, sniffing back a sneeze before stuffinf the files back and slamming the cabinet shut.
Jo continued her search. Down to this odd room with a door named,
“Scooping Room”
Ew
Only God knows what the hell goes on down in there.
Jo twisted the doorknob.
Jammed
Jo clicked her tongue.
Twisting it harder and slamming her body against the door.
Letting out a hefty groan, Jo fished out her lockpick once more and worked her magic.
Her progress is much slower this time.
Believe her when she says that it was hard picking a lock while trying to steady a flashlight in her mouth.
Click
“Yes.”
Jo smiled, tucking her lucky picks away before pushing the door open.
The first thing that caught her off guard was the suffocating stench that immediately engulfed her as soon as the door swung open. Jo squinted, hiding her poor nose under her arm. Someone really has to clean this place up, it smelt horribly like death. Jo wrinkled her nose, sniffing in the horrid stench once more.
Wait
She recognised this smell.
A horrible smell to know and be so familiar with. A part of her job.
Death.
Smelt of old stained copper and iron, mixed with the pungent taste of rotten flesh and sour pus.
The smell of death.
Jo straightened her back.
A murder? Would explain why the place smelt of dead bodies.
Jo darted her light around the room.
Quickly landed on her target.
Her eyes widened.
While expecting to see a dead body.
What lay before her was a disorganised pile of human organs.
From what she could tell, digestive organs.
Stomach
Large intestines
Liver
Small Intestines
Gallbladder
Organs
Laid at the corner of the room on a pile of dried blood.
More blood splatters against the wall behind.
Jo walked towards the scene of the crime, surveying the blood pattern on the walls and floor.
What she could tell was that the victim was most likely leaning against the wall when the murder took place, being that the blood was concentrated towards a point before flashing outwards. The organs were scattered messily, most likely the murderer had the intention of tossing out the organs recklessly. In a rush manner.
Jo pressed her lips together.
Jo turned, searching for any other possible clues of what could have happened here.
There weren’t any visible bullet holes for it to be a gunshot murder. No drips of blood near the scene where the victim was stabbed and cut open with a knife.
Was the victim conscious during the attack?
The scene showed minimal signs of struggle - close to none.
The victim must have been unconscious or restrained. Whichever came first.
Jo’s light landed on the machinery before her.
A large metal hand- no, metal scoop, was folded into the wall on the opposite end.
Jo began moving towards the machinery, surveying it.
Its structure was all Jo needed to tell how the victim was murdered. Guessing by how the machinery was folded, it was clear that it could be extended, meaning that it most likely extended all the way to the other side of the room- where the blood splatter took home. The large unsettling scoop at the very end suggested how the murder occurred and Jo held back a shudder just theorising about it. The dull ends of the scoop were also stained with thick and dried blood, suggesting two things. That the scooper was indeed used as a sick murder weapon, and that the victim most likely died a terrible and painful death for the dull scoop- a sharper edge might have been more favoured for giving the victim a quicker death.
Jo clicked her tongue once more.
She has to report this immediately.
Start an investigation.
Find out who the victim was and inform whoever their closest kin was.
Jo took one step-
And the room came alive.
Jo jolted the sudden noise and flash of light in the room.
Lights blinked beyond her the glass panels of the room, leaking into the scoop room.
Jo’s heart drummed against her chest.
Her dark eyes furiously darted back and forth, her mind working to figure out what was going on.
Was she not alone this entire time?
Was she being watched?
Followed?
Was she going to be murdered here?
Suffer the same fate as this poor victim had?
A deadly creak sounded and the scoop sprung to life.
Jo jumped.
Avoiding her death just by the skin of her teeth.
The edges of the scoop drew fresh blood from her arm, peeling her skin along with it.
Jo muffled back a scream as she stumbled back. Her flashlight crashed to the floor below. The feeling of warm liquid oozed over her right arm, her grey oat quickly staining deep red.
“Fuck.”
Jo cursed.
A disorientated voice sounded from avoid, its voice cracking and bounching off the metal corners of the room.
"If we look like you-u, Th-then we co/could hi-de"
Satic
Loud beeps accompanied the voice.
Jo's could have sworned that she had a heart attack right then and there. Her adrendaline pumping through her veins.
Jo watched.
Watched as the scoop bounced forward. Scoop. And retracted.
Her ears rang from the constant beeps.
"-- only- hurts ---for a m--onment"
The action played out before her, over and over again. Almost in slow motion. Almost telling her how it killed its victim, how it forcefully scooped the organs of its victim and left them to stain the metal floor below. Taunting her.
Jo huffed.
The machine retracted. Losing life as it finally laid back, still and silent.
The lights blinked.
And shut.
The room fell silent once more.
The quick few seconds played out like minutes - hours.
The action of the scoop played over and over again in Jo’s head.
Extend, scoop and retract.
Repeat.
The ghostly voice imprinted within her memory.
She could almost see how the victim struggled, fought and died with every move of the machine.
The gun in her left hand shook uncontrollably.
Jo breathed, taking in the smell of death over and over again until her lungs fell back to normal. Till her brain slowed and focused. Till her arm stopped shaking.
A single ray of light shone from Jo’s flashlight, across the floor and onto the bloody wall.
Blinked
Shut
Notes:
A/N
Ah yes, update :D
Sorry guys for abandoning you all HAHAHA
Have been very busy with life but I figured I should post the next chapter to honour the fnaf movie that is coming out soon. yes.
Hope you enjoyy
Chapter 5: Case Report #4
Notes:
A/N
I live.
Chapter Text
CASE REPORT #4
Report Title: Sister Location
Date of Report: 2.3.1993
Time of Report: 1 am
Reporting officer: Atlas Latter
Red
Blue
Red and Blue
Flashes
Scoop and retract
And repeat
And scoop
Red
Blue
Sirens
The buzz of a walkie
Loud chatter
Loud sirens
Blinding lights
Red and blue
Scoop and retract and again
And again
Scoop
Again
Red
Blood
Blue
Lights
Smoke
Gravel
Sirens
Red and Blue
Blue and Red
Scoop and retract and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and blood and again and red and again and blood and organs and blue and again and again and -
Jo
Red and blue
“Detective.”
Jo blinked.
“Sorry?”
An old man stood before her. His brown coat slung over his tensed shoulders, fingers pinching the bridge of his fat nose, wrinkles curling over his forehead and his eyes squeezed. Eyebags hung heavily beneath his aged eyes - tired. White hair powdered the top of his head, trimmed. A small comb sat tucked within his coat’s pocket. Brown knitted sweater. Long trousers and an expensive watch. Police badge sat comfortably on his leather belt.
Jo straightened her back, as much as her body allowed her to.
“Yes, sir?”
The man dropped his arm, swinging limp at his side. It took him a moment before his eyes could meet Jo’s, lighting a cigarette as he did. His chest sunk as he sighed - as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I should have taken Captain Riley more seriously,” he said with a puff. “When he told me to expect you with trouble.”
He eyed her.
“Covered in blood.”
Jo glanced down at her arm. The pain slowly seeps back into her brain, one that she has been trying her best to ignore while waiting for backup to arrive. She hissed, pulling her coat as it revealed a fresh wound, her skin torn and blood raw. Thank goodness it was her right arm, Jo would have killed herself if she couldn’t hold a pen for longer than a day.
Jo winced at the strong aroma of dusty smoke and nicotine as the old man blew another puff, his eyes scanning the chaos that sat behind Jo.
Yellow police tapes rolled over the borders of the Afton Robotics property. Barriers were set up and caution signs were hung. The place was illuminated by a single street lamp - barely working as the many police cars that sat idle with their headlights shone. The building’s original sense of creepiness faded away, now with so many people running in and out, around and just standing here.
For some reason, the scene got her heart pumping with excitement again.
An actual case for her to solve.
One she dug out herself.
Atlas jogged up to the pair. A two-way radio clutched in their fist, shouting back a reply before reaching the two. “The premise has been secured sir, we’re ready to conduct a first-stage investigation,” they reported.
The old man puffed yet another cloud of smoke, tossing the cigarette bud onto the gravel. “Right. Thank you, detective. You’re authorised to proceed. I want to see a report file on my desk first thing tomorrow morning. ”
The old man eyed Jo.
“And get her some medical attention please.”
“I will,” Jo nodded, “And I will start the investigation immediately and-”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m aware that you’ve discovered this horrific murder but I am not assigning you to this case.” The man explained, his back turned to the detectives.
“With all due respect sir, I was assigned a case here in Utah from New York, a case about missing children that tied to the man who owns the restaurant that they went missing from, the man that owns this every building-”
“So you did your homework.” the old man interrupted, not turning back to look at Jo.
“I was told of your intelligence detective. I was told that there was never a case that you could not crack, but I was warned of your reckless habits and this isn’t how we handle things here down at Utah.” He turned ever so slightly.
“I am old enough to know that is this an open and shut case, a cold case that will be over in under a week. You will be assigned to desk duty for your time here.”
The old man walked, away from Jo who stood in disbelief.
“Hey,” Atlas sighed, placing an arm on Jo as they whispered, “Go patch yourself up, I’ll talk to the captain.”
Jo cast her partner a thin smile, unsure if they could even change the captain’s mind. He seemed like he had his words set in stone. “Thanks.”
Jo stalked her way towards the ambulance parked near the squad cars, pushing herself onto the opened back of the vehicle. Denying the help of a paramedic on site, Jo clicked open the first aid kit and began digging through the supplies for herself. The pain raked through Jo’s body, stretching every muscle in her right arm. The haunting scene of the scoop burnt itself into her memory and the robotic, yet life-like, voice of that recording still played like a sick lullaby in her ears. Haunting her nightmares.
Jo clutched onto her arm tighter, pulling onto the already dyed bandages Jo tried to imagine the scene over and over again, calculating every possibility of how the scoop killed its victim, how the victim had struggled- praying that the victim may be long dead before going through such a sinister event—a sickening way to murder a human being.
She cringed.
Jo had seen numerous sick ways serial killers have tried killing to develop their signature. From carving out hearts to chipping fingernails - there was even a time Jo had to bring in a man who stole his victims’ genitals off their dead bodies and hung them up in his home like trophies. Jo shuddered at the memory.
Gross
She would never be able to rid her mind of those discoloured breasts hanging off the murder’s nightstand.
“Hey Jo, that’s enough.”
“Huh?”
Jo glanced down at her bandaged arm, its white surface soaked in deep red, her other hand squeezing and pulling at it. “Oh,” Jo mumbled, rolling out the soaked bandage from her arm and tossing it over with the others. “I got carried away with my thoughts.”
Jo let out a faint chuckle, reaching for another but was immediately slapped away.
“Oi! What was that for?”
“Let me do it.”
Atlas reached for her wounded arm and started tending to it, properly. The sting of the antiseptic was all too familiar to Jo. “So…what did he say?”
“That you’re on the case?”
Atlas replied, their eyes never leaving Jo’s arms.
“Wait what?” Jo's lips hung open, staring right at her partner. “How on earth did you?”
Atlas shrugged, a smirk painted on their face. “I have my ways.”
Jo sat there stunned.
“Oh, and you’re the primary.”
Jo scoffed. She was so sure that she would be kicked off and sent back to New York for her to carry out a suspension. Atlas smiled, looking down at Jo and her freshly bandaged arm. Jo chuckled, muffling a quiet thanks to Atlas.
“You did not bride him, right? In exchange for sleeping with you right, did you?”
Atlas smacked her injured arm, “Ew, you’re disgusting.”
The pair laughed, staring into the abyss that lay before them. The ominous dark building looming over the scene, it almost felt like the hundreds of red and blue police lights weren’t comforting enough.
‘It can’t be that bad, right? After all, you survived.”
“Nope, it’s horrible.”
Jo hopped off the back of the ambulance and began stalking her way back into the building. Atlas watched as the girl walked off. They have no idea why they do this, facing horrors over and over again while on the job and still managing to contain their sanity. Sooner or later, they might just go insane.
Taking one last look at the squad cars, for any sort of comfort, Atlas made their way into the building of Afton Robotics.
—
Jo was right.
The place stunk like a skunk.
Atlas wrinkled their nose, pressing a fist against their chest as they coughed. “You’re right, this place smells like rotten food mixed with the sewage water.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Jo sniffed, clipboard in hand and already clicking away at her pen. She had wasted no time getting the scene set up, making sure every evidence marker was in place, a very light stand illuminating every dark corner and her files in place. Jo’s back faced Atlas, back hunched and crouched over the dried organs that were spilt all over the floor. Forensics scanned the area, feeding the detectives with whatever information they could gather at their first glance of the scene. Dried blood, dead organs and loose strands of hair. Hopefully, all belong to the same victim. It would be interesting if every component belonged to a different host.
Atlas turned his view towards the metallic scoop that sat smudged in the wall, at the other end of the room. The technicians assured the detectives that the power had been completely shut off, and no electricity was currently running through the building’s veins - in fact, it hadn’t for a while now. Power had been cut from the building a few days ago, not too long after they had reported an accident. Atlas took a note to bring in the employees for a thorough questioning, Sabrina Ridley, Mike Schmidt and Daniel Jones - the names Jo had given them when Atlas had asked. How did she know this? Must be from her private digging during her time alone.
“Atlas,” Jo called, tossing her clipboard onto the small portable desk she made her way towards her partner, picking at her gloves that covered her hands. “Time for us to properly figure out what happened here.”
Atlas nodded, pointing a pen at the doorway.
“Judging the door, there is little to no signs of struggle.”
“Meaning the victim was most likely unconscious or stumbled in on their own free will, but who in their right mind would walk in here of their own volition?”
Atlas glanced down at Jo. “You did?”
“Shush, that’s not related.”
Walking towards the scoop, Jo cast her flashlight against the rusting metal. “Whoever killed the victim must know about operating the scoop thing.” Her face cringed as she breathed in the heavy smell of copper and iron- her blood still fresh on the scoop’s surface. “According to the employee records you gave me, only Daniel and Mike were listed as proper mechanics and technicians. Sabrina was a scheduling manager, it seems unlikely she would get close to this thing.”
Jo hummed, switching her light over to the pile of broken metal parts lying over the other corners of the room. “Reckon they use this scoop to destroy faulty parts of their creepy ass animatronics. Who did you say was the lead tech?”
“Daniel was, but he quit over a month ago.”
‘Interesting…”
Atlas continued reviewing the files Jo had found, leaving the physical exploring to Jo as they put their skills into records analysis. They were far better at this compared to Jo. Yes, she was much better at solving puzzles and putting clues into place but Atlas never missed a piece of information from a file or a scene, they never forget the except date when a document was printed or when the specific time a victim’s heart stopped. Atlas was talented in piecing information together on paper, but it takes time for them to truly process it. So they stared, stared into the souls of the printed letters scrawled over yellow pieces of documents. Reading the soulless faces hang in their off-coloured pictures.
Let Jo rake through the dirt and danger, she is quicker - much quicker than Atlas will ever be. The girl does crossword puzzles for fun, for god sake. Atlas was perfectly content with collecting Jo’s puzzles and burning them into memory for her. If she needs any information, they’re there. After all, putting away bad guys is they’re number one priority, right?
It must have been an hour or two, or even three, with just Jo and Atlas throwing facts and observations at one another. Atlas went through all the files he had collected from the secret room Jo had mentioned earlier through their investigation, seeing through every page possible. All just information about the building and its electrical system. Information about the machines, information about the animatronics and information about the company.
“Hey, Jo?” Atlas spoke, catching the attention of the girl who sat picking at the scoop. Jo hummed, turning her attention towards them.
“Who did you say was the owner of this company again?”
“William Afton.”
“And you mentioned that he was tied to the missing children’s case years ago?”
“Yup,” Jo clicked her tongue before moving onto the floor, where Atlas sat. “William doesn’t only own Afton Robotics, he owned and established many companies and entertainments before this,” Jo informed, taking in a long sip of her warm coffee that some officers brought in.
“How did you know all that?”
Jo paused, taking her time with her coffee before shrugging. “I had a history here, in Utah? Remember?”
“Right…”
Atlas thought to themselves before opening their mouth once more. “Did you know anything more about this Will guy? Since you’ve mentioned that he may tie the two cases together, I feel like it’s worth knowing a little more about him.”
Jo frowned, her eyes darted onto the cold metal floor they sat on.
“I knew his son back in school.”
“Oh?”
“We weren’t schoolmates or anything, just neighbours.”
Jo took another swing of her coffee. “William was a mysterious guy. A strict father from what I’ve heard. Was hardly there for his family because his attention was solely on his restaurant. And if he was at home, he would spend his time locked up in his office, working.”
Atlas hummed, taking in the newly found information.
An absent father, minding overworked and with businesses containing multiple murders at once.
Cliche
“He was never there whenever the neighbourhood hosted picnics or barbeques,” Jo added.
Atlas chuckled, “So who was this kid? His son? Were you close?”
They winked.
Jo glanced over at her partner, letting out a playful scoff. “Ha, I am not about to spill my childhood secrets right here on a murder scene.”
“Why not? I did.”
“Right. On that subway murder.,” Jo laughed, taking another sip of the warm coffee’s aroma. “We were close, but nothing like your dirty mind thinks. I helped him with schoolwork and he helped me with bullies.”
“Bullies?”
“He was a year older and was kind of like a stereotypical bad boy in your high school. So yes, he dealt with the bullies.”
Atlas scoffed, “I don’t know why, but I find it so hard to believe you had trouble with bullying.” They said as they flipped through more pages of the documents scrawled out before the pair.
“I was forced to help them with their schoolwork when I first moved here. And when I decided to put my foot down, they threatened to beat me up. Plus, I was a total wimp at that time.”
“No way.” Atlas meant it. If one could look past the deep eyebags dragging under her eyes, Jo could be considered attractive. She could have easily been that girl every boy would try to get their hands on in high school.
Jo smirked, fishing out her wallet from within her pockets before pulling out a picture film. Dust and stains decorated its edges. “Here,”
Atlas took the picture carefully and studied it.
It was a family picture. Taken from what seemed like the entrance of an amusement park. Her father standing proudly behind her, her mother in his arms, and her sister riding on his shoulders. Stood in front of them was a girl with an overly straight back, her hair up in a tight ponytail, leaving no strands of baby hair down to frame her face. As she smiled, her awkwardly placed braces showed.
“Wow, you were a freak,” Atlas joked, passing the photo back to Jo.
“I was,” Jo chuckled. “Glad I lost those braces a month after moving here or else Michael would have never let me live it down.”
“Michael? Is that his name?”
Jo nodded, and a soft smile emerged on her lips as she soaked in her sweet memories.
They must have been close
Atlas shut a file close, fully memorised its contents before moving on to the other.
“So, where is he now?”
The smile on Jo’s face dropped, and her eyes turned dull. “No idea. I haven’t heard from him since I’ve left town…It wasn’t like I tried reaching out to him...”
The two sat in silence.
The documents lay idle in Atlas’s arms.
“After this has cleared out, I’ll help you look for this Michael of yours,” Atlas chuckled, laying a small hand on Jo’s hunched back. Jo flashed a genuine smile back, she could never express how grateful she was to have Atlas as a friend.
“Oh, you’re still here?”
The detectives seemed too engrossed in their conversation and the files littered around them to notice the quiet footsteps stalking back into the room. A man, in a white body suit, entered the room. Arm over his head, pushing through the plastic tarps hanging at the door frame - his ID hanging around his neck. “Sorry Dr Lim, we wanted to finish looking through the files.” Atlas waved a heavy file, watching as Dr Lim set down his suitcase onto the portable table behind. The detectives met the doctor around three hours ago and it has already seemed as if they had known each other for months. Guess that’s what happens when you are assigned to the same gruesome case such as this one. “Couldn’t you have done it back at the station kids?”
“We prefer to do it here, really dig deep in this whole place.”
Dr Lim heaved out a heavy sigh.
He is far too old for this, he should consider retiring soon.
“Whatever floats your boat kids, just be careful,” Dr Lim said, putting on his set of brand-new gloves. “The test results are back from the lab by the way.”
Jo perked up at that sentence, immediately setting down her cup of hot instant coffee and bolting as fast as lightning towards Dr Lim. “What does it say?”
Atlas gathered the files on the floor and the abandoned cup before placing it neatly onto the table, watching Jo’s eager eyes stare at Dr Lim’s files of notes that he had just brought in. Dr Lim had left with the forensics team earlier on, with small cuts of the organs and strands of hair found on the scene, back to the lab for testing- trying to figure out who their victim could be. And now, he was back with promising results the detectives have been waiting for.
Jo flipped open her pocket notepad, and clicked onto her pen eagerly, reading over Dr Lim’s shoulder as she wrote down snippets of what she could see. Atlas, on the other hand, stood patiently on Dr Lim’s other side as the doctor worked through his files. “I have some good news,” the doctor said. “We have only one singular victim on this case with us. That means you two wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of contacting multiple next of kin.”
The man joked.
“Well, who’s our poor unfortunate soul?”
Dr Lim pushed up his weighted glasses with a finger, sorting through his papers. “It wasn’t easy for the boys down at the lab, the organs were near dead and that hair barely provided much but we managed.”
Dr Lim slid the open file towards the detective, its pages wide and clear for them to read its contents - and great, it contained a picture.
“Your victim’s name is Michael Afton.”
Michael Afton
Atlas felt their eyes grow wide.
This cannot be.
Atlas’s green eyes flicked the stats printed on the pieces of paper before them. Every set of digits matched, every factor, every variable matched.
Same hair.
Same blood.
Same organs.
The man with mean blue eyes and a deadpan expression staring back at them in the picture was Michael Afton.
Jo’s Michael?
Jo!
Caught by their surprise, Atlas had forgotten how Jo had taken this…
Atlas turned towards their partner.
Her eyes were as wide as saucer plates. Her lips were as thin as paper and her face drained of colour.
Not a single word was uttered.
Noe_991 on Chapter 1 Sun 04 Dec 2022 04:13PM UTC
Last Edited Sun 04 Dec 2022 04:16PM UTC
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Chaoticshoe on Chapter 1 Wed 25 Oct 2023 03:58AM UTC
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So_long_gay_bowser on Chapter 3 Sat 15 Jul 2023 04:26AM UTC
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pop_velvet on Chapter 3 Mon 16 Oct 2023 12:36AM UTC
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Mimikyu_oli_Shyder on Chapter 3 Wed 25 Oct 2023 04:27PM UTC
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pop_velvet on Chapter 4 Mon 23 Oct 2023 08:09AM UTC
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Mimikyu_oli_Shyder on Chapter 4 Wed 25 Oct 2023 06:37PM UTC
Last Edited Wed 25 Oct 2023 06:38PM UTC
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Mimikyu_oli_Shyder on Chapter 4 Wed 25 Oct 2023 06:42PM UTC
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pop_velvet on Chapter 5 Mon 29 Jan 2024 01:28AM UTC
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Notinghere on Chapter 5 Mon 29 Jan 2024 02:35AM UTC
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Mimikyu_oli_Shyder on Chapter 5 Mon 29 Jan 2024 02:58AM UTC
Last Edited Mon 29 Jan 2024 02:58AM UTC
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