The case of Mr. Ortmeyer and the fake Mystic.

“Mr. Ortmeyer… Dear Mr. Ortmeyer… What is your name…?”

Mr. Ortmeyer put out his cigarette and ceased his pacing around the hardly lit motel room. He was in trouble. He pushed his hands through his thin, receding hair, not sure what to do. That was very rare considering that he was the best detective in his division. Hardly the most civilized, his boss would have added, were he still alive.
Mr. Ortmeyer stared at his reflection, sick of himself. Sick of everything. Especially sick of looking out that window and seeing dead street. Ortmeyer knew that he wasn’t the same after that second bombing. No one was, and he had to come to grips with that. But he didn’t want to, and he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to.
Ortmeyer looked back at himself again, seeing a middle aged man with violet eyes and thin, nearly broken glasses. He was also wearing a beige button down and black slacks that were too short for him.
Ortmeyer put on his only pair of shoes and left the room of his cheap motel, smelling the usual smells of the city those days. Death. And the not so occasional piss drunk vagrant’s that walked the streets of New Angelo.
Though Ortmeyer had been around for a while, he always had trouble with people. Jamie liked to mention that he was socially awkward to everybody they came across. Jamie did most of the talking.
Ortmeyer walked down and stepped into a black Hudson Commodore. He loved these old things, and he always asked Jamie to pick him up in these.
“Hey, Mr. Ortmeyer! Where do-“ Jamie started, but he was quickly interrupted by Ortmeyer.
“Jamie. Don’t talk.” Ortmeyer stopped him, knowing that once Jamie started talking, he didn’t seem to stop.
“…Whatever.”
Whatever. Jamie was used to this from Ortmeyer. Ortmeyer wasn’t a bad guy exactly, just…intense. When he needed to be, at least. Jamie and just about everyone who knew Ortmeyer knew that.
Before Ortmeyer knew it, Jamie had stopped the car, and they were in front of the Lannister’s giant mansion.
‘Oh, fun…’ Ortmeyer thought to himself. Talking to a couple of Nobles about their dead daughter was going to be a riot.
Ortmeyer and Jamie stepped out of the black Hudson and made their way through the front gardens of the Noble Lannister’s mansion. Ortmeyer noticed the expensive shrubbery and extravagantly cut marble sculptures of past Nobles.
‘Great, they’re a family of murderers too.’ Ortmeyer commented to himself, recognizing all of the Nobles in this family. This family was among the cruelest of the Nobles. Or at least they were decades ago. Ortmeyer heard this new generation wasn’t exactly up to snuff with their ancestors. Still a bunch of snobs though.
The Massive front door opened, and the both of them were greeted by a short man wearing a thin, black suit. One of their butlers, Ortmeyer deduced.
“Light, sir?” The butler offered, extending out his hand and revealing a small fire.
“Sure.” Ortmeyer replied lifting his cigarette to the butler’s fire.
‘Great, and he’s a mystic too. Fire. Pretty scary stuff. Nobles ruling over other mystics, though? How ironic, considering that most Nobles are mystics. Of course they are. It’s not like anyone but mystics had any power these past years. These long 25 years since the detonation of the bomb. The mystics just swept in after that. To clean everything, and to restore order, I guess. And they did, the world was peaceful. For a while. Too bad the commoner’s freedom had to be sacrificed for that.’
The dwarf butler led Ortmeyer and Jamie down the hall and into a great living room. With all the ‘necessities.’ If only the entirety of New Angelo looked as good as even one of the couches these Nobles had.
“Wow! Look at this place! Not even my entire apartment is as big as this room! Look, Mr. Ortmeyer, they even got a flat screen! I’ve never seen a TV that much bigger than my head. Is cable even a thing anymore-“
“Jamie, you’re babbling.”
“Ah, sorry boss…”
A woman, about a few years past Ortmeyer, came into the room and approached the two detectives. She was crying. Ortmeyer forgot that Mystics, let alone Nobles could cry. He felt like they never had any reason to. They had everything. This woman apparently didn’t have her daughter.
She told Ortmeyer and his assistant the same sob story he had heard a million times before. Perfect, model daughter, beautiful. Bright future. One day, she goes out with her friends, next day she’s missing, they can’t find her. Boo hoo. Maybe it was good that another Nobel was dead. Maybe she would have grown up to be like the Lannister’s and Nobles that came before her.
But… a case was a case. And Ortmeyer needed the money. By god, he needed the money, and they were Nobles. They were going to pay him, and they were going to pay him good.
Ortmeyer left that damn house as quickly as he could, Jamie right behind him. Ortmeyer got into the car, wondering what the father was like. Female Nobles were enough to deal with, but a man? Ortmeyer shrugged the thought off as Jamie got in the front seat and started the car. They were off.
The woman told Ortmeyer and Jamie the last place her daughter, Lilly was seen. Lilly. That name was so sweet, he knew this girl was false. This girl’s whole persona was false, and her friend was just about ready to crack.
Ortmeyer was holding her friend over the edge of a bridge, the ocean several dozen feet below them.
“She wasn’t here. She wasn’t at the docks. She was near here though. Your confidence suggests that. If this place was way off, you would be more nervous, I’m sure. I might as well write you up as a suspect.” Ortmeyer told the scared punk he was dangling over the bridge.
“Okay! Okay, she was a whore! She works for a pimp named Slick. His place is over there, he has tons of women with him. He said he owns her, and when he say’s something’s his, it’s his.”
“What were you and your friends doing with her?” Jamie asked the young friend of Lilly’s.
“We were just having fun, but then Slick arrived. He got angry. Said something about her not being the ‘One’.”
For some reason, Jamie seemed to physically flinch at this statement, but Ortmeyer had other things on his mind.
“Where is he keeping-?” Ortmeyer started, but Jamie interrupted him for once.
“What did he mean by ‘The One’? Did she lie about having multiple magic’s?”
“What? I don’t know! But I will tell you where she is. Slick’s in that abandoned strip joint about a block from here.” The young man replied, looking like he was going to pass out any second, he was so scared.
Ortmeyer lifted him back onto the bridge.
“…Let’s go, Jamie.”
Ortmeyer and Jamie left the docks, never to see that young man again.
They arrived at a small building, it looked like not even a bum would be here. But Ortmeyer knew Slick was holding her here. Because she was his, apparently. Why Lilly didn’t kill this guy, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps she was one of the few Nobles that wasn’t born with Mystic abilities.
With no powers, it was no wonder Slick found out she lying to him about being the One. Jamie told him that thought most Mystics could only use one magical ability, one that represented their very identity, the One was the only Mystic with multiple powers. Some people said he had multiple souls. Some said he trained in isolation to become the strongest Mystic, but no one had ever met him. He had everything that the Mystics could ever have, whatever that meant. He said the One was a Mystic hated and envied by all others, because of his massive amount of power.
Ortmeyer and Jamie entered the dead bar, their hand guns raised. This Slick was dangerous, Ortmeyer knew that. Even though Lilly had no powers, anyone who had enough balls to kidnap a Noble, let alone says he owns one, had to be dangerous. Or stupid.
They passed the empty bar, with the empty glasses. They passed the empty chairs, which once were filled with empty people, with empty lives. This whole place was empty, even when it was filled with people.
After they made their way through the small room with the broken light and empty chairs, they made it into another small room with a broken light. But there was a man sitting in a chair, staring at them through long strokes of long, matted hair that covered his face. It was Slick. And by god, Slick was a mess. But he also frightened the hell out of Ortmeyer.
“I knew you were coming. I could feel you. You’re so strong, how could any Mystic not feel your presence?”
Ortmeyer had enough of this. He was going to find Lilly and kill this man.
“What the hell are you talking about? Where’s-?” Ortmeyer started, but Slick interrupted him, calm as ever, as if he didn’t realize two detectives were pointing guns at him. Or he just didn’t care.
“The poor girl was ashamed. She didn’t want any of her little Noble friends to find out she didn’t have any powers. So that bitch lied to me about being the one. I had my suspicions, I couldn’t sense anything. But you, Jamie, yes, that’s your name. It’s imprinted on your identity like a permanent scar. I guess you decided to go with your real name this time. No more fake identities, I know you’ve had your fair share of those, hiding from us. Us other Mystic’s have been looking for you Jamie. And I’ve found you…”
Slick shot out of his seat and tackled his Jamie to the ground, the expression of a madman overtaking his face.
“Just give us your life force! Why should you have all the power?! It’s not fair!”
Ortmeyer quickly raced to drag Slick off of Jamie, but the sickly man was thrust forward like a ball from a cannon, past Ortmeyer and into the wall.
Jamie picked himself up and smirked, leaving Ortmeyer there, confused.
“Yeah, I’m not giving you any. I’m not a part of your so called band of brothers. I’m not sure if you realize this, but you’re the enemy. I’m not letting the Mystics and Nobles control everything anymore.”
Jamie spoke with a demanding authority, and a voice that sounded like it wasn’t just Jamie that was speaking, but thousands of people. The thousands of Mystics that Jamie sucked the life energy out of so he could be strong enough to kill every damn Mystic. He was out for blood.
Jamie, with alarming speed, ran up to Slick’s body and picked him off the ground.
“Everyone’s going to know that you’re the One. Once I tell the other-“
A sick cracking noise filled the room. Slick was dead.
“No one will know anything.” Jamie said to Slick’s lifeless corpse. It was all false. The boy Ortmeyer knew for all those years was a man. A dangerous man who wouldn’t stop until all other Mystic’s who were against him were dead.
Ortmeyer heard a sound from the other room. He quickly ran to the door, and with all of his strength, he kicked it open. A young girl was sitting there, crying and gagged.
“Whatever, at least I’m getting paid.”
The End.