The rain was cold, and it fell on London. It had turned the soot on the bricks into a thin black paste. I was standing at the edge of the alley. The wind smelled of mud.
"Move, Thorne," Miller said. He was a big man with a yellowish red face. He did not like me — not even a bit. "This is a police matter. It's not a place for someone who talks to himself."
However, I didn't move. I looked at the body. It was in the middle of the alley. It was not a man anymore; it was a statue. The body was white and clear. It was all salt. The salt caught the light from the streetlamp and shone like ice. There was surprise in the face of the man. His hands were folded. Even the buttons on his coat were salt.
I closed my eyes and opened them. The blue light appeared. It was sharp and clean. It was behind my eyes and waited.
[System Online]
[Scanning...]
[Subject: Dead. Material: Salt.]
The blue lines started moving across the wet ground. They found things that the police could not see. I walked over the yellow tape. My shoes made a dry sound on the pavement. There was white dust everywhere. It almost looked like snow but it was not snow.
I knelt by the salt man. I didn't touch him because if you touch salt in the rain, it melts.
"Who did this to you?" I asked.
The man didn't answer. After all, the dead never answer questions. A small box popped up in the corner of my eye. It was red — red meant danger. Red meant a price to pay.
[Warning: Low Energy]
[Spend 10 points to see how he died?]
My head was hurting. The pain was extreme. I needed a drink and a dark room. But the salt man was waiting.
"Yes," I said.
The blue light grew bright. The alley vanished in a moment. The rain stopped. At that moment, I was looking at the ghost of the past.
It was ten o'clock. The sun was nowhere to be seen, but the air was warm. The salt man was a real man then. He wore a light brown suit. He was looking at the watch continuously. He was waiting for someone.
A shadow was moving at the end of the alley. It was tall. It wore a long black coat and a brown hat. It didn't have a face. There was only a grey mist where the face should be.
The man in the light brown suit looked up. He was afraid. He was trying to run but his legs weren't moving. The shadow reached out a hand, and it touched the man's chest.
There wasn't a sound. There was only a glimpse of white light. The man's skin turned white. His eyes had turned into glass. His clothes became hard. In just three seconds, he was all salt.
The shadow looked at me. It should not have seen me. I was a ghost in a memory. But it looked right into my eyes.
The shadow looked at me. It should not have happened because I was just a ghost in memory. But it looked right into my eyes.
[Warning: Memory Corrupted]
[Detection Level: High]
The shadow spoke. The voice was sharp and serious.
"The Alchemist is watching, Elias."
Then the memory broke, and I was back in the real world. I was on my knees. My nose was bleeding, and the blood was thick. It fell on the white dust.
"Thorne!" Miller shouted at me. "Get up. You look like a dying dog."
I wiped my nose. I looked at the ground again where the shadow had stood. The blue lines were growing bright. There was definitely something there.
I stood up, and my knees popped like wood. I was feeling old, and the salt was crunching under my shoes.
"What did you find?" Miller asked. He walked closer. He was looking at my bleeding nose and then at the salt man. "Or did you just come here to bleed on the crime scene?"
I didn't answered Miller. I looked at the spot where the shadow was standing in the memory. The blue lines of the system were hovering in a circle. The were all pointing at a small crack in the pavement.
I reached down. I picked up a small object. It was heavy. It was a coin, but it was old. On one side, there was a queen, and on the other side, there was a snake eating its own tail.
[Item Found: Ouroboros Coin]
[Type: Catalyst]
[Analyze? Cost: 5 Points]
"I have found a reason for you to be worried, Miller," I said. I held up the coin. it did not shine. It looked dull, as if it were tired of existing.
Miller took the coin. He turned it over. "It's just an old coin, Thorne. Some drunkard dropped it."
"Drunkards don't turn into Salt," I said. "And they don't wait at ten o'clock in light brown suits for a faceless ghost.
Miller looked at me. There was surprise in his glance.
"How do you know the time? and how do you know the colour of the suit? The salt everything white"
I tapped my head. The pain was still there. It felt like a nail in my head. "I have a good imagination, Miller. You know that."
"Your imagination will get you killed someday," Miller said. He put the coin in a plastic bag. "Go home, Thorne. I will call you if the Commissioner asks for you."
I turned away. I didn't say good bye. I walked out of the alley, and I was back into the London rain. I needed a drink, but more than a drink, I needed to know why a shadow in a memory called my name.