"Doctor Wilson," I said, walking down the flight of dead leaves in the forest on a hill. "I thought you would be waiting for me."

"Quite wrong, young fellow," John said.

When I am narrating a story I usually call someone by their first name, if that is any help,Emily.

"Then what did you call me for?" I ask, with my hands in my pockets staring down at the man holding up an umbrella even though it is not raining.

"Come down, young fellow," John said.

I glare down towards John.

"Why would I come down to a man holding a umbrella when it is not raining?" I ask.

"I have something in your line of field," John said. "I am in need of your help."

"You don't even know me," I said.

"I know you are a strange young man sharing likeness to the man who attacked New York City," John said. "And capable of projecting ice at will."

I came down alongside John.

How did he know?

"Yes, that I do," I said.

"Summon snow all over this part of the hill," John said, pointing over to a elevated part of the hill.

"I do not take orders from a old man," I said.

"It is part of the reason," John said, taking off his small glasses then cleans them off.

John puts the glasses back on.

I saw a large black and white husky come from behind a tree wearing a collar come back towards John. John is covering his nose. The husky then begin pawing at where John had pointed at. I sent a gust of ice over the area. The ice lands on a invisible figure lain on the dead leaves. Dead leaves stained in unusual blood being visible unlike their source. The blood is blue; oddly. John comes over to the body grabbing a leash to the husky.

"There you are," John said, still covering his nose. The husky "A dead invisible man; that is new."

"How can you smell a invisible dead body?" I ask.

"I have Hyperosmia," John said.

I came over seeing the body has unusual characteristics that normally are not found on human. I can also tell the body belonged to a man in his late twenties. He had pointy ears, scaled skin, gills on the side of his neck, and to top it off his fingers are designed strikingly like claws. He had on shirt and pants including a leather jacket. I can tell his boots are old because they seem to be very worn out while the shoe laces are barely there.

"I can smell what people can't," John added. "Judging by his decomposed state he has been dead for at least a week." The husky paws at the dead body. "These are not costume related."

"This body is beyond my knowledge," I said.

"This man used to be alive weeks ago," John said. "Have you ever felt that you were being watched?" The birds are chirping, insects are making their obnoxious sounds,and the air feels chilled. "That invisible people walk among us living in harmony wearing something so small but unnoticeable."

"Now you are sounding like a lunatic," I said. "You are crazy."

"But I am not," John said. "Have you bothered to listen for the smallest of all voices?"

"No," I said. "I have not been listening to my consciousness since New York."

"I am not talking about the mind, young fellow," John said. "I am talking about the voices that should not be there."

"Such as this body?" I ask.

"Yes," John said. "A couple times in the deadly silent morgue I have heard voices to people and my tools be moved way even the table with them as some one had engaged into a fight. It was not the work of ghosts."

"How do you know?" I ask.

"I did everything," John said. "And unlike ghosts; they are solid, easily to blend in with their surroundings."

"This man might be a freak of nature," I propose.

"And I am speaking to a god," John said. "I believe in god enough that I believe giving one a second chance to one is a wise choice." I narrow my eyes towards the old man. "Otherwise you would be towed away by a SHIELD agent."

I frown.

"Just because I made ice appear does not mean I am a god," I said. "It is a gift."

"Lie all you want," John said. "But that does not change my mind."

The husky raises his head up towards me, whining, begging for a treat.

"I do not have a treat, hell hound," I said.

John covers the ears of his pet companion.

"Don't say to him," John said.

"He is a dog, Doctor Wilson," I said. "Dogs cannot understand English."

"Yes, they do," John said.

"Just the commands and affections," I said.

John uncovers the husky's ears.

"This man was murdered, Loki," John said. "And he is a relative to the human race."

"You do not know if he is a human," I said. "And how can you autopsy an invisible man?"

"Easy," John said. "That is where you come in. Make a frozen ice morgue van unable to melt and transfer the body to the morgue."

"...Doctor Wilson,you will drive your car to the morgue with the body in the back and I will not make a frozen morgue van," I said.

"A flying frozen van," John said.

"No," I said.

"My only offer," John said. "And I can open the body up for a full examination in the morgue."

"Well, can't exactly start a case about a dead invisible man," I said.

"I have cases that started with much less," John said. "His beloved ones are in the city and are likely visiting morgues. Now will you help me get this man be fully autopsied?"

I cannot believe I went through with it,Emily.

Strangely after the autopsy in the morgue; John had the large umbrella put over the dead body and turned on the water sprinklers. From there a young woman comforting her mother had appeared. I didn't know what they are or much less where they came from. John understood their language-as they hailed from Germany-nodding.

The name of the deceased is Franklin Holloster.

"How did my son die?" Franklin's mother asks.

"Five shots," John said. "Five shots to the heart, a fracture to the shoulder, loss of a couple fingers, and the last was a hard strike to the base of the cranium.

"My son," Franklin's mother said, touching the scaly cheek of Franklin.

"I am sorry for your loss," John said. "Is there anyone you know who can...well...handle such death as this?"

I saw Franklin's mother nod.

"Yes," Franklin's mother said. "We...We were going to return home as a family. The doorway had opened." Franklin's mother looks up. "Please stitch my son up. I want to have him buried in his native planet."

"I will," John said.

I watched from the corner in the dripping water.

"My friend over there is Loki," John said. "A teenager at best."

Franklin's mother looks over towards my direction.

"The man who made thousand die," Franklin's mother said, in bitterness.

"Mother," Franklin's sister said, grabbing her by the shoulders. "He's not dangerous as he is."

"He is the reason why your father is dead!" Franklin's mother hisses.

"He is powerless, mother," Franklin's sister said. "He has no way to harm anyone."

I take a step forward.

"I can freeze you to death," I said. "I am a Frost Giant; that I am."

Franklin's mother turns towards John.

"I will be back for his body in two days," Franklin's mother said. "Till then; his murder will be investigated..." John hands her a clipboard. "What is this?"

"It's the crime scene as how I found it," John said. "And everything I found on him is in this trash back near the door," Her attention drifts towards the door. "I hope your justice system can take care of your son's case."

"We don't have one," Franklin's sister said. "We do have those who make justice."

The water spraying sprinklers stop and the black bag disappears.

The doors open then close.

"Loki," John said. "Perhaps you can use your second chance for something good."

"And get that reaction again?" I ask. "No."

"You can make it right," John said. "You can try by taking on the hero role...or do something redeeming; either way."