Murder in Saint Johns [Alexei & Jess] | Forum

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“The Justifications of men who kill should always be heard with scepticism, said the monster”
Patrick Ness, A monster calls.


† Dreams; a manifestation of thought brought to life by imagination or remembrance while in the deepest of slumber. Sometimes remembered, most often they are forgotten, fleeting memories of pleasure, even they had a dark sight, contorting in a visual horror assault on the mind given the birth name of nightmares. These would be what Alexei was suffering as he laid upon his cot, bible laid open beside his tossing body as memories plagued him. The scent of sex and alcohol littered his nose while memories of the confronting queen of lust herself in the second ring of hell plagued his visual memories causing sweat to bead upon his flesh and the occasional twitch of limb. Next came the memories of the seventh ring of damnation – Violence.  Here brought more fits, as his hands were brought up over his face as if to protect it from some assault laid out by centaurs and harpies. The river of boiling blood and flame brought forth a grotesque countenance to his visage.


† The sounds of war drums beat in his mind, feint at first but growing louder and louder finding harmony with his raising heartbeat, sweat profusely forming upon his physique as it tossed and turned in the bed, memories of the violence he had to endure and assault on others coming back to him until the nightmare snapped its hold upon his mind and the war drums faded only to be replaced by feverish knocking on the door. Sitting upright with a pant, tired sanguine hues settle on the door and his husky, tired Russian voice broke through the monotonous beating on his door. “Come in.” What happened next was not something he had expected and was unprepared for, for as the motion to enter was given the door was pushed open by an archbishop, father Malakai from Spain, holding in his hand a pile of paperwork and behind him stood the Pope. Pope Francis swayed his right hand regally to signify silence against any words the Angel would have spoken. Pope Francis was the newest elected Pope and face of the Vatican, thus making him his newest caretaker and leader of the Iscariot. Stepping into Alexei’s small bed chamber he waved off any offer of a chair from father Malakai.

                † Turning his attention once more towards Alexei, he took from the Archbishop a closed folder and spoke calmly, making every word he spoke count for he spoke for the entirety of the church, such a heavy weight on his words. He was truly God’s man.“Alexei, it has come news that someone of our order has been sent to the Lord…” As he spoke of such death all three men within the room in unison began crossing over their hearts and kissing their rosary beads. The Pope then continued to speak. “It is also news that the…conduct… in which they were untimely sent was rather…grotesque… There is also word that this priest’s daughter was also taken from us. It is Imperative you make your presence known there and conduct yourself accordingly to make sure the vile fiend who has committed this atrocity is brought to justice and that father and child are cared for accordingly.” Alexei stood silent, momentarily lost for words as he processed the words given from the lords chosen one. Taking a step forward towards the Pope he took the extended folder in his right hand while left took the Pope’s hand in his own and brought knuckles to his lips. Letting both hands fall away from each other he asked one question. “I understand this mission is critical, but what means do I have access to… too complete this task.”


† Allowing his knuckles to be kissed gently the Pope replied shortly to the question with a singular weighed sentence. “When you land on the scene I will leave that up to your discretion, now be on your way the plane has been prepped for your arrival and clothes sent before you.” Nodding his head Alexei bundled up the mission statements and his bible before exiting his room and towards the car that waited, engine running to take him to the airport. Entering the vehicle, he fell into contemplation over the wording used by the Pope. It was rare that the Pope and Alexei would be in the same room together, let alone handed a directive so important by the man. What was waiting for him in – He reached for the mission statement and opened the front page to look at where he was going. – New York, Harlem.


† The black armoured vehicle rolled to a stop before the yellow crime scene tape and between multiple NYPD police cars, it seemed the entire block that the church resided on, graveyard included was blocked off by tape and police on regular rotation patrolled the area. One such officer headed quickly towards Alexei as he exited the car, brushing his suit down of any lint that might have fallen on him in the ride. He was tired but more-so hyper aware of the situation that was unfolding around him. As the male made his way towards him Alexei removed a folded piece of paper with the mayor and supreme court’s signatures allowing him access to the scene. Handing it towards the officer he politely excused himself and entered the crime scene making sure to avoid any yellow clue markers as he did so.  A soft sigh escaped his lips as he withdrew fresh black latex gloves and began to put them on.  Ascending the stairs to the church he was caught momentarily enjoying such beauty for he was currently at Saint Paul’s Church, across from Riverside park.


The Forum post is edited by Pʀɪᴍᴏʀᴅɪᴀʟ Jan 30

† The sounds of cameras flashing and the shutter clicking assaulted his hearing melding with the sounds of conversation about the grotesque sight his sanguine hues were about to set themselves upon. Occasionally he would hear whisperings of people who noticed him and who this ‘freak’ might be and that apparently he was the dog of the church. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he contemplated how simultaneously right and wrong they were about their mutterings for while he worked for the church he was no dog.  With each step closer he noticed his aura seemed ineffective to those about him, probably due to the high tensed situation that he had just set foot in, next came the realisation what he was smelling the strong coppery scent of coagulated and dried blood, a familiar scent for the man but this was stronger than he had ever smelt before.


† He stepped towards the Alter where there were multiple crime scene investigators in hazmat styled suits to protect the scene from being contaminated he could see it and his stomach curled within him. Unfolding a handkerchief from his pocket he covered his mouth to stop any spittle that might escape his lips from the involuntary convulsions his stomach decided he needed to do. Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer to get a better look at the scene before him. It was obvious now why Pope Francis had spoken to Alexei personally, what lay before him was a scene worthy of the rings of hell.  Resting upon their knees before what he could gather was once a white marble alter now stained deep red like angry veins of hell breaking through an angelic surface were both Father and daughter. It took a moment for Alexei to gather it all in, internally relaxing himself with Purity.


† Both victims were shirtless and their back flesh flayed away from ribcage and side before being folded up onto itself and held into place by a rudimentary system of pullies and rope, he guessed were from the storage room in the church. Meant to imitate the very creature Alexei was, an Angel he found it grotesque and he had been through hell, this was something else and it was confusing. It would only get worse for Alexei as he noticed more details, the chest cavity of the female had been eviscerated of her internal organs and the heart of his child placed in the Father’s hands. Such a bold statement in the scene before him. It was no wonder that NYPD was out enforce today, all hands were put on this case. Stepping close enough now that the workers noticed him and asked him politely to stand back as they were not done processing the scene.

                † Obliging their request he took a pen and pointed towards the large statue in the centre of the room behind the alter where upon itself and the windows behind it were lines of an ancient language. Calling over one of the crime scene investigators he asked politely “Could you please take detailed photos of those for me? That’s ancient biblical Hebrew.” He then turned about and looked around before asking loud enough for people to hear him, Russian accent betraying him a little. “Who do I speak too here, who is in charge?”

The Forum post is edited by Pʀɪᴍᴏʀᴅɪᴀʟ Jan 30

Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. Because of these, the wrath of God is coming.

- Colossians 3:5-6



                † The stench of death clung to the air with cold, gnarled deposits of coagulated pools of sanguine leaving in its wake a soft ever present burning of the nostrils with each breath inhaled within the churches confines. Much like the stench of death, sadness clung to every open porous surface built within the purest sacred ground upon the known earth. To bring such sorrow and mal-intent into the confines of this prestigious building was to wage direct war with the church which would indefinitely spill innocent and guilty blood onto the streets. Such were the vicious unrelenting thoughts of the Iscariot as he moved with unnatural grace and dexterity through the crime scene, committing the atrocity to memory. Each finite detail, each miniscule happenstance around the tortured physiques of father and daughter, the alter in which they are praying upon and the glory statue behind it.

                † Darkness, it was an all devouring beast with no satisfiable appetite had begun its slowed precise devouring of his heart as wrath, one of the carnal sins was born to life within Alexei. A tortured soul, manifested and malleable to human condition was not safe from desire and sin, merely he was a beacon for it. A testament to the purity of God’s will and strength always had advisories and now it too would be tested within the confines of his holy temple. Faith in his lord, his creator kept him civil and calm during such testing moments as he completed his motions around such visceral and vivid conclusions of murder. His reasons for movement were beyond the simplest flaw of impatience but a more surreal sense of hopelessness. In an order to stave off feelings of ineptitude he had made himself useful for himself, avoiding contamination of each of the scenes in complete silence for a storm was brewing inside.


                † A voice, gentle had permeated in echo through the hallowed halls causing attentions to distance themselves from the scene and place itself entirely upon the individual that had called towards him. Sanguine hues settle upon the woman’s own eyes, regarding her with interest, even if vague. Unreadable in emotion state, Alexei moved with a grace most would regard as cat-like in that his performance and skill allowed him superior natural human movement, towards the female officer whom had regarded herself as Detective Angell. In normal situations a smile would be provided on the irony of such a name and meeting but due to the sheer… malevolence of the act in which he was summoned it bore no pleasure to his visage. Coming to a standstill before the young feminine detective her vision should she spend time committing his appearance to memory she would notice features of a being clearly androgynous in genetics with superior lean muscle hidden behind well-tailored suit, sanguine hues with randomised flecks of amber and pristine strands of white. His voice, rolling free from the tendril of pink muscle enclosed behind white enamel came an accent distinctly Russian, worn down and accepting speech patterns of someone direct from Rome. “Alexei, I am the Iscariot of the catholic church, internal affairs to over-see the entirety of the case.” A slight tilt of his head signified, in a single motion for her to follow him towards the centre of the crime scene. “What can you tell me of the scene before me. Do you have a motive or an exact theory on how they died?”