Bane

January 7, 1980

Clayton stood outside the medical examiner's office with Samael Grifford. Clayton tapped his foot impatiently, the tap-tap-tap of his shoe echoing down the hall, the fluorescent lights flickering. "Who's the examiner?"

"Martin Bellar."

Clayton felt a wave of pain wash through him. He flexed his jaw, and said nothing.

"Clay, I'm sorry about Nadjia. We'll find her killer, and I swear to God almighty, we'll crucify him. Literally, if you want. Take him to the academy. Jonathan can drive the nails into his wrists himself if he wants. We're going to get him."

"You didn't see how Amir looked at me. This is my fault. This is my fault."

"Why, because of The Order? Clay, we gave them a solid foundation. Saved Nadjia's life. Without us - without you - she would have wasted away."

"Would it have been so bad? It feels worse that she powered through it all, only..."

"We're going to get the one who did it."

"It won't bring her back."

"Closure, then. At least closure."

"Mr. Walker." Dr. Martin Bellar strode into the hallway through a set of double doors.

"Dr. Bellar."

"Are you certain you want to see her?"

"Her? That's my son's... " Clayton paused when Grifford put a hand on his shoulder.

"We're here to see Nadjia, Dr. Bellar."

"Your Honor. Walker." Dr. Bellar frowned. "I apologize. Follow me."

Grifford, and Clayton followed Dr. Bellar through a set of double doors into the the autopsy room. There was only one body, covered in a crisp white sheet.

"Before we begin, I need you to understand something. The deceased - Nadjia - was brutalized beyond recognition. What I am about to show you is... gruesome."

"Just begin." Clayton stood with his arms folded across his chest, standing away from the doctor. He disliked Bellar immediately, but the more the man spoke, the greater the disquiet grew inside Clayton.

Dr. Bellar wasted no time, drawing the sheet back to reveal Nadjia's naked body on the autopsy table. Clayton gasped, covering his mouth, and breaking his wavering professional veneer, tears spilled down his cheeks. Samael Grifford stared hard at the girl's body; there were cuts, and stab wounds over her torso, a slash across her throat, and the girl was missing both eyes.

"Nadjia Sharif has multiple cuts, and stab wounds to her chest, and torso, with cuts to the ribs. The stab wounds to the chest were posthumous. Dr. Beller placed a gloved finger over Nadjia's lower ribs on the left side of her body. The primary stab wound was inflicted here at the anterior vertebrocostal ribs between ribs six and seven, collapsing her lung. The secondary stab wound was inflicted here." Dr. Bellar placed a finger over Nadjia's lower ribs on the left of her body.

"...did the first...?" Clayton felt sick. In his lifetime, in the name of The Order, under the authority of the church, he took lives - many lives - but they were never brutal. There was an art to dealing death, and assassination.

"...No. The primary wound may have put her into shock, which could have reduced or negated the pain..." Dr. Bellar cleared his throat. "The second stab wound entered her here, through the anterior vertebrochondral ribs, between ribs seven, and eight. The killer thrust the blade inward, and upward, tearing, and collapsing the lung on the right side of her body."

Clayton, and Grifford waited.

Dr. Bellar pulled the sheet up over Nadjia's ribs, and chest, and pointed a gloved finger over Nadjia's throat. "The killer than cut her throat, severing her larynx. A wound of this nature would normally cause suffocation in the victim. The wound was deep enough, that the killer severed the carotid artery. At that point, Nadjia only had minutes - likely less. We did recover tissue from the inside of her mouth, which means she appears to still have been alive at this point in her attack."

Grifford's eyes were wide. "She fought back."

"The best she could, I'm sure." Dr. Bellar pointed to Nadjia's forehead. "The word 'Spite' was carved into Nadjia's forehead... does that mean anything to you?"

"No."

Dr. Bellar wasted little time to continue. "The attacker removed her eyes posthumously, and the excess of wounds to her chest, and torso were inflicted after she was already deceased." Dr. Bellar pulled the sheet up over Nadjia's face, and head, covering her body.

Grifford nodded, and turned to Clayton who looked more angry, than hurt. "A moment in the hall, please? Thank you, Dr. Bellar. That will be all."

Clayton followed Grifford into the hallway, leaving Dr. Bellar in the autopsy room. "Samael, I don't like Dr. Bellar."

"Neither do I." Grifford nodded. "Clay, there's a monster in Driftwood. We will spare no expense in uncovering Nadjia's killer, but in the mean time you and Jonathan will resume patrols. Something is changed in Driftwood, and the time for our tenuous peace is through."

"You can't put that boy out there. He's not ready."

"That boy is a young man now, and completed his advanced education. Not to sound calloused, because I know this is a dire tragedy, but I feel there is more to this than a simple killer on the loose. We need to clean up, and we have orders to begin eradication where we can, as needed."

Dr. Bellar entered the hall, the double doors to the autopsy room swinging closed behind him. "There is one more matter."

Samael Grifford, ever impatient with the doctor, turned to face him. "What is it, Doctor Bellar?"

"Autopsy revealed that Nadjia was..." Dr. Bellar looked between Grifford, and Clayton.

Grifford took a step closer to Dr. Bellar, closing the distance between them by a foot. "Spit it out, Doctor."

"...Nadjia was pregnant."

Clayton shut his eyes, and clenched his jaw. Grifford was quiet a long time, and ugly silence hung in the hallway. Grifford took a step back, placing a reassuring hand on Clayton's shoulder. "That will be all, Dr. Bellar. Dismissed."

Martin Bellar nodded once, and turned, hurrying down the hall, and through the double doors from where he came.

"...I'm sorry, Clay. We need to focus. Not to be calloused, but this is injurious as much to The Order as it is to your family. It's thrown the project."

"Then let us lash out. Let us demonstrate our power for anyone who may doubt it."

"Clay, the orders stand the same."

"Lillian Plow..."

"No."

"What? Kill the lot of them, but leave Lillian Plow? Is she invested in The Order?"

"Tone, Clay. Please. I don't like it any more than you, but orders are orders and you have yours. She's dangerous, and any direct attack on her could compromise The Order's hold on Driftwood, and we both know that hold isn't yet final."

Clayton gritted his teeth. "Yes, your honor."

"Come with me, Clayton. There is much to discuss."