The shot echoed through the room, making Jake’s ears ring. It had been a while since he took part in a gun fight inside a closed space, and his tears were too much, and Bert’s movement was too much.

And everything was too much...

“J... Jake...” he heard Bertrand’s voice, but refused to look. He would snap if anyone ever made him look at what he’d just done.

“Jake...?” his partner’s voice, hollow and lost just seconds ago, was filled with surprise and shock. “What... What is...”

Jacob didn’t want to listen to the rest.

***

Gonzales called him four days ago, to check on his reports. He was pretty busy with how to put Bertrand’s intel into believable words, but the deputy chief never called him only to check on his reports, so he listened to her, and asked what it was all about.

“Did you tell your freak partner about the Face Murder?” she asked, without putting the least effort to hide her disgust towards Bertrand in her voice and words.

“Haven’t talked to him in a while. Why?” Jake sense that something was off, but let her go on.

“He appeared at the scene, under the pretext of ‘taking some photos before the cleaning crew got there and fucked up the whole scene, just because the forensics team had already appeared and did their job.” Gonzales sounded concerned in a level he’d only heard when her husband was arrested for human trafficking.

“Okay...” the cop took a breath, trying to think. “Did you already ask your boys if there’s any chance of them leaking this info?”

“Do my boys look as retarded as you?” her voice was sharp, completely unworried about the weight of her words. “None of them would ever come as close as strictly necessary from a murderer.”

And there it was. The deputy chief speaking with all her scepticism, about a man she didn’t know half the story of.

“Look, chief. I know you don’t like Bert, but you know nothing of him, okay? Now, with all due respect, if you don’t mind, I have reports to finish.” he meant it, but his tone was rather caustic.

But that was only expected, since Bertrand had been his only friend, ever since he joined the police department. A place full of back scratching, bribery, and other likes of dirty stuff.

Jacob was the rational brain, and Bertrand was the guts. And it meant that wherever there was an unexplainable lead, the PI would see it, and the cop would put it logically in the report, after they solved the case.

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Go to his place when you can, I’m sure you’ll find something at least suspicious that might be able to explain those stunts he always played on us. On you too, don’t be so naïve. You’ll find out you’re just being fooled by him, and I just hope it doesn’t hurt so much. You know I care for you, Jake. Good luck with the reports.”

Fuck!

She was right about one thing, Jake had to give it to her. None of her boys dared to get close to Bertrand, and only talked to Jake when his friend wasn’t around.

How did you know about the murder, brother? he asked himself, even though afraid of the answer.

***

And there he was, blood all around him, human remains on the floor, his friend shot, dying right before him.

Jacob was wrong, there wasn’t much he could do about it. There would be shame, there would be bullying. There would be even blood, because he stained the whole department by associating with the private investigator.

He would have to carry a stain in his heart for the rest of his life, by letting that person in, so deep in his life, both professional and personal.

The cop held his head between his hands, the gun touching his forehead, lightly.

Yes, that was the only choice.

Shame, pain, dirt, bullying, expulsion...

Or death.

Yes, that was the most welcome choice.

He would die alongside his friend, his name would be carried to the mud, but at least he wouldn’t be there to see it happen.

The gun slid slowly towards his mouth, eyes still closed shut.

“Jake... What are you doing?” he heard Bertrand’s voice in the distance.

I’m... I’m going with you, brother... He thought to himself, unable to answer.

“JAKE, LOOK AT ME!”

Jacob’s eyes opened wide at the yell, and a horrible, utterly maddening scene was unfolding in front of him.

“Jake...” Bertrand asked, pleadingly.

His flannel shirt carried a bullet hole, but no bleeding at all, from the bullet wound, at least.

Bertrand’s hands were bleeding profusely, with dozens of tiny cuts. So was his neck, his cheeks.

God almighty, he was crying blood!

And the wounds were... Moving. As if trying to open.

“JAKEWHATTHEHELLISHAPPENINGTOME” Bertrand screamed, but his partner was too busy looking, pissing his pants, shitting himself, as the first cut fully opened, revealing an eye, with black irises, and pus-coloured sclera. It was looking right at Jacob.

The cop looked back at the eye in the back of Bert’s hand, and his view started blurring. Aching.

Burning.

Jacob started to scream in pain, unable to see anything, anymore.

His screams mixed along with Bertrand’s, while all the exposed cuts in the latter’s skin started opening simultaneously, revealing eyes everywhere. And the more eyes opened in the detective’s skin, the more Jacob screamed, but Bertrand was already quiet, stunned.

Absolutely shocked.

His partner’s screams got louder and louder, until his throat broke, and blood flowed spurted from his mouth. Silence fell, leaving room only to the sounds of gagging and choking. Jake’s white skin picking tones of red, as if burned, and then really burning.

Melting. Leaving only muscles where there should be skin, and then only bones and organs and a pool of a molten substance, reeking a sickly sweet scent, along with the smell of feces and urine vaporizing.

And soon after, there was only silence, the organic, putrid pool, and Bertrand in the middle, eyes all over his skin, dribble running from his mouth, his mind torn in countless pieces.

“Oh, my... You’re beautiful.” A voice cooed from behind him. He felt a hand caressing his hair, but his mind was far, far away, lost.

“You’re ready to know now.” The demonic woman spoke, getting in front of him.

She was different than before. Her curves were still attractive, but there were tentacles on her hands, if those could ever be called hands.

Her face was still pretty, but there was something uncanny in her looks. Yet, nothing seemed to actually matter. That was the only thing that ran through Bertrand’s mind at that moment.

“But for you to enjoy it, you have to be here, not out there.” She said, getting closer and closer, and kissing him.

If it could ever be called a kiss.

Her tongue stretched, getting in Bertrand’s throat, making it impossible to breath. It felt as eating at a cadaver.

His mind went straight back, and he pulled her off. Her tongue slowly leaving his mouth.

“Now that’s more like it.” She said, after the investigator started panting. “Do you want to see it through, oh, the greatest’s future descent?”

“Just tell me...” Bertrand asked, while coughing and panting. “What the fuck is happening to me...?”

“I’ll take you to where I need you to be, and then, everything will be clearer for you.” she took him in her arms, and the space seemed to distort.

Right after that, the whole place changed, and they seemed to be in a filthy room, where a middle-aged man was tied up to a chair, a human face stapled over his own, crying and grumbling.

Before him, was a young girl, curly black hair, white skin, a broken look on her face, and a crowbar in her hand.

The man cried and mumbled, as if begging her not to do whatever she was about to. They didn’t seem to have noticed Bertrand and his companion’s arrival.

“Now it’s time for you to see it through, oh Uriel’s future descent!” the thing that resembled a woman hushed in the PI’s ear.