Narrowly avoiding an elderly woman pushing a three-wheeled grocery cart, Silas jogged up the crumbling steps to the Juniper Ladies Collective. Built to exhibit pedigree, the building now stood in shame. After three quick turns down the stairs, Silas popped outside through the servant's entrance, emerging out of a women's bathroom on the other side.
He exited St. Albert's Station to the fetid squalor. Unperturbed by the suffering around him, he meandered through the encampments as if browsing a flea market. He noted the residents' behavior with cool academic interest. Silas didn't hate people; on the contrary, people fascinated him. He was never happier than when he could watch their mundane lives unfold around him. He sidestepped a handbag hawker and slipped down an unnamed alley.
Silas walked through a small shop advertising imported silks and exited into a mahogany-paneled conference room. Silas was one of the last to arrive. Members of Trial already flanked the long table.
"Thank you for joining us, Silas," a condescending voice said. Silas only inclined his head toward Waylon. Silas had no interest in puffing up the man's ego. If anything, he'd enjoy sticking it with a large syringe. Disappointed by the lack of reaction, Waylon turned to the rest of the group. "In front of you is the dossier on a Richard Hall." Waylon looked around for dramatic effect, but unable to catch anyone's eye, he began again.
"Right, Mr. Richard Hall. Managing Partner at Horan Brothers. Lives on Rovelt and Lake. A wife and two sons. Suspected serial murderer of rent boys."
"Sex workers."
"Excuse me?"
Leo gave a smirk that veered precariously towards a sneer. "The proper term is sex worker, Waylon," he said in a dulcet tone.
"Erm, right. Right." Waylon muttered, pinkening around his collar. "Mr. Richard Hall is suspected of killing at least three sex workers."
"Eight." Silas' voice came out scratchy from lack of use. "I have confirmed an additional five victims since I was assigned."
The older Changeling's face turned hard. Clearly less welcoming of Silas' input than Leo's.
"I heard rumors on that stretch downtown. There were some murmurs about missing men, so I compiled a list of names, located and identified the bodies, and reviewed the autopsies." Silas hoped this would suffice, but all eyes remained on him. "Of those autopsies, five were consistent with the unique signature we have placed as Hall's."
He followed the rest of the meeting with mild interest, like a rerun he'd seen too many times. In a way, he had. He couldn't count how many Trials he had attended since the Wolders annexed the Badlands. Each candidate was uniquely horrific, so naturally, they all blended together. Like all Changelings, Silas was apathetic towards human violence, but the results grated against every natural instinct. The rampant cruelty contaminated the land, polluting the entire territory. Even the air was fetid with wickedness.
Initially, annexing the Badlands sounded entertaining to Silas. Yes, they would have to cleanse and fertilize the land, but that appealed to his inner chaos. The Badlands had been left unsupervised for centuries. The Wolders dwindling population necessitated the move. The Wolders had drastically underestimated the degradation of the land. Completely overwhelmed the scouting force. Far from entertaining, rebalancing the Badlands became a herculean feat.