A spark from me to you

Lopalt

I sat in my office, thinking about the case. What happened exactly? Why did it happen? Those thoughts were the ones in my head. I leaned back in my chair, the sounds of cars, echoing throughout my office, as the migraine in my head worsened. The phone rang. I picked it up.

"Chief Lopalt, we need you down for the crime scene review." The operator's voice was clear, yet I still didn't hear as I zoned out halfway through her sentence.

"Chief?" I came back to reality.

"Yes, sorry, what was that? I may have lost my focus for a second."

"They need you at the crime scene."

"I'll be right there." I placed the phone down, the click, a satisfaction for my ears, as I stood up from my chair. I then walked outside my office, shutting the door behind me. I took the elevators down to the first floor, walking into the Garage Bay, as I passed the Armory. I got inside the police car making my way to the place in which the crime happened.

I got there and there were quite a few people standing around. Police tape was put up around the area, blocking off civilians from coming in. I stepped outside the car, the cold breeze tickling my face slightly as I made my way onto the scene. The hum of voices mixed with the distant rustle of trees, created a chaotic backdrop of activity.

The forensics were busy, as their questions were sharp and methodical. — 'Have we isolated all the footprints leading to and from the body?' 'What's the estimated time of death?' 'Was there any sign of a struggle?' Meanwhile, onlookers and first responders contributed to their own chatter: 'Did you see anyone suspicious near here earlier?' 'Is it true there's a suspect already?' 'Could this have been a robbery gone wrong?' Amidst the noise, I could see a man shouting and waving his arms directly at me.

He came up to me, in a rather, drunken state. His teeth were crooked, and drool was dripping down from his mouth. He was DRUNK alright. He came up to me, swaying a bit from side to side.

"You're a police officer riiight?" He asked. You could obviously tell from by the way he walked and spoke that he wasn't in his right state of mind.

"Yes, I am. Do you need something?" He was very fidgety, as he was twiddling with his fingers while looking at me.

"There's a bar fight happenin' right over there." He pointed towards the bar opposite from the crime scene.

"This crazy guy punched my friend in the faaace! There's blood all over him!"

"Alright..." I followed the drunken man to the bar in which he pointed out to be an alleged 'bar fight' going on inside. We walked in and the smell of alcohol rushed over me, worsening my migraine. The smell intoxicated my nose, making me want to puke, as around me I could see the different sorts of people chugging on alcohol bottles and booze. I diverted my gaze towards the situation that was happening. There was a guy on the floor, blood dripping down from his nose as he clenched it tightly while wailing. Then sitting on the stool right beside him was a tall guy who seemed as though he were in his 20's. He had black silky hair in a nicely done slick back and a grey and white suit which looked rather neat. His fair skin glowing effortlessly in the dim lit bar, while he had a cigarette in one hand. His green eyes went from the guy on the floor, to me. He glared at me in a way that seemed not angry nor displeased, but in an enigmatic sort of way. A smirk arose on his face. I then noticed a small scar on his right eye. I walked up to him.

"Sir, may I ask what seems to be the problem here?" I felt uncomfortable, due to all of the onlookers around us, but I pushed that feeling down, trying not to let it show.

"Oh, there's no problem here officer." His voice was deep, but soft at the same time. I could see his teeth, as white as snow, gleaming slightly in the light.

"There is a problem here Officer! That lunatic punched me in the face!" The guy on the ground shouted, his face and voice filled with anger and rage.

"He was becoming a bother, so I did what I thought was right." The green-eyed guy said. I honestly didn't feel the bother to get myself to involved with this dilemma, as it was just a silly bar fight with two drunk men who had obviously no idea what they were doing.

"Right, I'm going to write you down a penalty for this. If it happens again, serious measures are going to be taken. He smirked.

"If I were to see you again, I wouldn't mind having to go through all that." I rolled my eyes. This guy... I sighed.

"What's your name, sir?" I asked, trying to refrain myself from the urge of slapping this guy in the face. He put his cigarette in the small cigarette ash tray on the counter, then turning to face me fully.

"Xavier Roshen." He said while looking me up and down. His eyes were then locked on the name tag that was pinned to my chest.

"Lopalt is it?"

"It's Chief Lopalt to you." He was starting to get on my nerves. I clenched my fists slightly as I breathed in, exhaling afterwards as I unclenched.

"Ah, I see." He may have noticed me getting frustrated but said nothing, as he kept that rather annoying smirk plastered on his face.

"You seem stressed Chief. Big case weighing on you? Maybe you should ask the right people the right questions."

I narrow my eyes. "People like you perhaps? I'll decide myself what questions are to be asked and who to."

"Oh, I'm just passing through, but if you keep digging, you might find me more interesting." I wrote down the penalty, handing it to him, as I then turned around abruptly, heading towards the exit.

"You have yourself a good night, Chief, and good luck, we all have our roles to play." I ignored him, opening the door, then closing it behind me. I walked towards the police car, entering as my eyes started to droop and my vision starting to blur.

"Pull yourself together, Lopalt. You still have a long night ahead of you..."

I turned on the car engine, as it sputtered to live. I drove off, my thoughts circulating about the conversation that I had just had with Xavier. He seemed rather...Odd. I shrugged my shoulders; he must have been playing with me. I then paused. But then how did he know about the case? Maybe it was obvious from the way I was acting? I mean the news has gotten out about there being a murder anyways. I ran my fingers through my hair. I sighed. What a day...

A thought about getting coffee then crossed my mind. I was quite depleted of energy, so coffee ought to do the trick. I then stopped at a nearby gas station. I got out of the car, my hair moving with the wind, as I made my way inside. The gas station wasn't in a really dense area. There weren't many buildings nor people around. As I entered, I walked towards the coffee machine in which was placed in the far back of the store. I made my coffee, the smell of coffee beans entering my system, calming me a bit.

I then made my way towards the shop clerk who seemed as though he were likely sleeping on the job. I then placed the coffee on the counter, startling him slightly.

"One coffee, no gas." I said, my voice devoid of emotion. He quickly typed up the amount, adding the coffee to the pay. I reached for my pocket, pulling out a grey credit card with my name plated in silver. I placed my card on the card reader a soft beep exiting, as it marked the successful transaction. As I strode towards the exit with my coffee in hand, the glass doors slid apart as a slight hum emerged from them. I then made my way outside into the cold exterior of the night, as I sipped on my coffee, the heat rushing onto my face.