The Spark (TCoR)

With the meeting over, Iva found she had the next few days to herself.

Technically, she was supposed to be investigating the series of murders. Apparently, two more bodies were discovered earlier in the morning. Both were killed in the same way - by acute circulatory shock, brought on by multiple lacerations across the body that had been cauterised shortly after being inflicted, to the point where the murders were practically bloodless. Apparently, the sheer amount of pain resulted in a cardiac arrest in both cases.

Talk about messed up...and depressing.

After the meeting Iva had been introduced to one of the members of Roderick's team - a young man named Tyler. Apparently he was the only person the chief could spare to continue the investigation, due to him being fresh out of the police academy. He'd brought her up to speed on the details, and the two of them had spent the rest of the day discussing the reports and theorising. Tomorrow she planned to do some information gathering in the field, but decided to take the rest of the day off to organise her thoughts.

She hummed a tune to herself as she walked down the street to her apartment, glancing at her Scroll whenever she received another update from her new assistant. While a part of her did want to work on the Auriel case, she predicted that things would get violent soon. And when it did, she didn't want anything to do with it. Besides, the case she was on now was actually growing more and more interesting the deeper she delved.

Upon reaching the main entrance she glanced backwards and reached to punch in the combination to the door, but stopped when something at her feet caught her eye. Shards of metal from the doorframe and handle were scattered on the floor, and upon closer observation she found that the door had been forced open. A crowbar was used, for the looks of it.

''A burglary? Well, it's not too past midday, so most people would be at work. ''

Iva gritted her teeth and drew her revolver from inside her coat. She'd never had to use it except at the firing range, but she was confident she could handle a couple of thieves by herself. Besides, it would take hours before anyone else had enough time to help her, and arresting them by herself would get her on the chief's good side for once.

She opened the door slightly and peered inside. The main lobby was empty. The elevator was at the ground floor. Even so, she decided to take the stairs.

Walking softly, she ascended to the upper floors - gun raised and ready to fire. She swept every corridor, checking each apartment door for signs of intrusion before moving onto the next. But after four floors she found nothing, and was starting to get the unsettling feeling that this was no ordinary break-in. Whoever did this had a particular target in mind.

Her fears were confirmed when she reached the fifth floor - in particular, her floor. She reached her room quickly, and swore quietly when she found the wooden door in a similar state to the first. This time, however, it was wide open.

She glanced nervously down the hallway and back down the stairs, before carefully stepping into the room.

It was trashed. Everything that looked like it could broken had been. The carpet was a mess of broken glass, torn fabric and toppled furniture, and almost all her wardrobe had been shredded. The notes and mindmaps she had posted on the wall lay in a torn-up heap in the centre of the room, and on the far wall the unmistakable Red Grenade - the symbol of the Granado Cartel - was messily drawn.

With a queasy feeling, Iva knew they hadn't used paint.

(TBC)