Not Finished Yet

With one last leap, Melody landed on the fire escape besides the window to the tall apartment. She let out a small huff and took a moment to get a quick view of the street below. The four story building cast a long shadow on the street below as the sun began to set over the horizon. It was one of those quieter streets in the city. From this vantage point she could only spot one or two people walk by a car turning off the street, and she was pretty sure she saw a cat meander down a dark alleyway.

Godspeed, lil’ cat.

It wasn’t the worst part of the neighborhood, but it was close to the edge of where they were trying to build back the city from past destruction. People, understandably, wanted to distance themselves from that. Not just from the sound and the rumble of machinery, but from the memory of it. Those who lived close to the edge were either newcomers, people who couldn’t afford anything better, or those too stubborn to leave.

Harold Kelly, the resident of the top floor of this apartment, had been the lattermost of those options. He was an old, tough bastard, who refused to move even in the early days after the city was attacked. He had been police force, a top detective, and, as someone who was one of the older members of the force, some say he played a strong role in building positive relations between the police and Metas trying to be heroes. Mel had heard he was the one who started several support groups for young Metas to be set on a path for good and to be just, or just trying to keep them from falling into the wrong crowd.

He was, by all accounts, a great man.

Strong, noble, and a dedication to the job. He wasn’t like other cops who had been growing a lousy reputation. He actually stood for what the police said they stood for. Above all else, when Melody had begun her time as a hero she had come to respect the already old man and all she did to help her along her way. He helped her get her heroing paperwork sorted, and all the proper licenses and taught her a few valuable lessons along the way.

When she heard that she was in the hospital after an "accident" that occurred during an investigation into a string of murders, she promised him to pick up the trail. That trail brought her here, to his home. Something, she wasn't sure what, was supposed to go down here. As she peered in through the window she saw that exact something that had...well, apparently already happened. She took in a breath. It was a sight that she had seen before, something she had steeled herself against long ago. Still, it was hard to see. Laying in the middle of the bloodstained room was the body of a lone figure. A corpse? Almost certainly...which...

The gears in her head already were turning. Was someone trying to frame him, or...they were trying to send a message? Either way, this wasn't good. With a quick slide of the window, she stepped into the room. There had to be something that would lead her to whatever Harold was after, some clue that would lead her to whoever was behind all of this.

She had a sinking feeling that there was something big was going on here...