Linne - A Brief Report

	The first rays of the morning's sun crept the window like a lingering phantasm and singed Linne Andouillette's line of sight. She flinched, scrunching up her eyes. She turned a head to the digital clock in the corner of her neatly organized room. 6:53 AM. Yet there she was, still clicking away at documents on her PC like a machine, turning over in her mind the events that transpired beforehand.
Linne didn't get many breaks in her line of work, and even during those breaks her mind was tormented, one could say far more so than she was on patrol. New Easton had a haphazard and unusual law enforcement system, one that she felt was being carried on her back 24/7. She couldn't afford to tire out.

	It had been 12 years since Misfortune Mayhem and subsequently 12 years since Linne's father, one of the most well renowned officers in the business, was shot and killed trying to protect his family. 12 years ago the inner pent up frustrations of the seedy underbelly of the city had erupted into an inferno of inhumane violence. The kind of violence Linne eventually swore to dedicate her life to eradicating, just moments after her father's funeral. Soon those moments blossomed into years, and Linne found herself a top-ranking officer in the NEPD at the absurdly young age of 19. It's said humanity's drive is the greatest asset we have as a race, and nowhere did this display more openly than in Linne's superhuman work efficiency. Shortly after being put into position, she made headlines by busting open a ring of notorious criminals all by herself, crippling New Easton's underworld ever so further.

	Yet despite all her efforts, she couldn't change the fact that ultimately, she was still just a child inside. She had always been reserved in her thoughts, which in consequence made her seem like but an eccentric child prodigy, but years of trying to fight violence had infected her with violent urges herself. The surface of her mind had shifted like mounds of terra, and her thoughts of justice were tainted by lingering ruminations of rancor. No matter how many criminals she brought to justice, violence was always still around the corner, ready to spring forth at any moment, stronger than ever.  She felt like a powerless entity in the gaping maw of New Easton, and this frailty made her more and more prone to unleash her ugly emotions. She became well known for her wild mood swings, and lack of hesitation to pull the trigger. Even if she was still an effective antibody for the sickened frame of New Easton, she was always afraid of potentially heading down the same route as one of her best friends...

	Linne snapped out of her short trance. Her reports were fleshed out enough for a week's worth of work, but that didn't stop her from taking all night to perfect them. She had no time to sleep now. and no place to appear tired out. She had a city to look over, after all. She just prayed that today would be a slightly more peaceful day than the last, as her report slowly churned its way out of the printer.
Changing out of her nightgown, she walked out of her modest home clad in her full policewoman's garb, holding onto her trademark hat and keeping the trusty revolver handed down by her father safe in its holster. Hopping in her car, she made no hesitation to dart straight for the station, rubbing her head, trying to make sense of yesterday's events.

	"Soooo..." the chief of police droned, a dumbfound expression highlighting his face while he read through Linne's lengthy reports. "They were swallowed...by shadows?"
Linne pinched her forehead. "Yes, that's seriously the only way I can describe it. Every last participant at the drug trade had the life sucked out of them once they unified with what I could only describe as...shadows. I'm not sure what sort of smoke and mirrors they used to achieve this, bu-"
"Madam, are you sure you weren't, uhm..." The chief mumbles hastily, looking over the papers on his desk. "Seeing things? I mean, you haven't exactly been in prime condition lately, and I hear overworking yourself in this situations can do terrible things to a young person's mind..."
"Chief." Linne interjects with a stern resonance in her voice. "This was the same testimony given by every other surviving witness at the scene, if you had the sense to read further. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't jump to tactless conclusions."
The chief turned his widened eyes back to the young officer, his disposition petrified for a few moments. After clearing his throat, he skimmed through the reports some more.
"Right, well, I'll just have to process this more with the department. Might need to get the bureau involved if this keeps up."

	The FBI? These days, they wouldn't even bat an eye. It's not like this was the first instance that these strange happenings took place. Each time they were brushed off as "freak accidents", and nothing more. They were rightfully just too downright bizarre to look into, written off as yet another result of the usual commonplace hooliganism that plagued the area. It could have just been the result of Linne's young, overactive imagination, but she didn't want to believe it. She -couldn't- believe it. Just before then, there was an instance of a strange, masked figured running through the streets with reckless abandon at the dead of night, mercilessly attacking all unfortunate enough to stand in their way. Another happening was a breakout of a strange psychological phenomenon, brought about by the appearance of an old, abandoned bus creaking through the streets at night. There wasn't much more than anecdotal evidence about those occurrences however, meaning most of these cases were up to speculation.

	Linne of course took her job too seriously to let this slip away. It wasn't even an entire day until she found herself at the tail end of another one of these scenes.
"Alright, tell me in detail..." The policewoman calmly asked a meek-looking man, curled up in a fetal position on a warm August night.
"It was-it w-was, I don't know! I was just there, and-that guy He just...somehow caused those shadows to crawl up and...and...and...everyone dropped dead!" The man could hardly keep his composure, his eyes jolting everywhere at once.
Such went the other testimonies she managed to wring out from the survivors at the disaster-strucken Lucky Mart convenience store. It was the same case as before; Somehow a shadow-like substance had sucked away the life of these unfortunate individuals. There was one valuable take away from this however.

	Linne stared vacantly at her notes as the investigation came to a close. Her teeth clenched, looking pained from this whole ordeal. One of her burlier partners was getting ready to head back to the department, but couldn't help turning her attention to the distressed-looking young policewoman in front of the store.
"Come t' a conclusion yet?" he asked in the most straightforward way possible as he chewed on a freshly baked donut.
"Sort of." She responded flatly. "Two of the victims in these scenes were identified as "Jason Sketcher" and "Miguel Nike."
"Hmm...y'know, I think I recall dose names 'afore. Wasn't they 'apposed to be..."
"Yeah. They're two criminals reported as working for the remains of Saint Osiris."
"Saint Osiris? I dought dey were 'aposed to have been dissolved afta Misfortune Mayhem!"
"You thought wrong. There has been more than enough evidence that they were planned to make a comeback in the near future." Linne put away her pen, setting it into her pants pocket. "And while this could be a matter of coincidence, there's only one syndicate outside of investigation authorities that would know of this fact, let alone go through such extremes just to eliminate its members."
"Aoogh! I see!...no, wait, I actually don't." The burly policeman declared dumbfoundedly.

	Linne hopped in her car, now certain who was at least partially involved in this mass confusion.
"Penguin..."
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