Ophelia Coletto - Part 2

Instructions

Trigger Warning. (Implied gore) Continues on from where it left off on part one. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- “I'm going to ignore the fact that you said that. Can I at least get a name?” “Detective Me.” He answered, without hesitation. She gave a forced smile. That didn't sound believable at all. “Alright, Detective Me it is then. May I see your identification, Detective.” “Identification? Why would you need that? You can see perfectly well it's me.” She gave him a polite smile. He was clearly trying to waste her very valuable time. “Can you excuse me? I need to make a call. “I wouldn't recommend calling security on me, Ophelia.” “You have given me every reason to do so.” She simply replied, already picking up the phone. “It would not end well for very many people. Yourself included.” Yeah right. She didn't believe a word of it. “Quite frankly, I don't see how you can stop me.” She began to dial the number, but she wasn't even halfway through when the phone went flying out of her hand. And into his. “Ophelia, listen to me. There are bigger things at hand here. Things bigger than you, bigger than me even. And if you accept my help, you will see a great many things, most of which you currently think are impossible. If you don't accept it, then you likely won't even remember this conversation.” He paused, noticing her face had gone pale. “If it's too much I-” He continued talking about some nonsense, but none of it so much as reached her ears. Frozen to the spot, her eyes were fixed on a gap between the black gloves positioned on his hands and the sleeves of his coat (which she had noticed earlier, was professionally tailored, and looked quite expensive) which at the moment, fell short. A gap through which something white was showing. And she'd been at enough car crashes and murder scenes to know that what she could see, despite the complete impossibility of it, was bone. She knew there had to be some reasonable explanation, but at the moment she was too sleep deprived to think it through properly, so there was no way she could have said otherwise. And the more she looked the more inhuman he seemed. Unnatural even. This was no person. Finally she managed to find the muscle (and mental) power to move, and she swiftly made her way towards the door. However, she wasn't even two steps into the action when the door closed gently and locked itself, without a key, to her astonishment. Fumbling on her desk, a cheese knife from the hasty snack she'd prepared herself earlier, ended up in her hands, and she held it in front of her as though it would somehow protect her from whatever it was that was standing before her. Detective Me, as it called itself, now noticed his sleeve had fallen short of his wrist. “Ah, great. Now you know I can take all these ridiculous layers off. They really quite bother me some days.” A flick of his wrist closed the windows looking out onto the hall, and he began to unravel the scarf that covered half his face. She stared at him in shock as she saw what sat beneath. He was a god-damn skeleton. Surely this had to be some sort of cruel prank, set to test her nerves. Or maybe she was hallucinating this whole thing. She really needed to get more sleep into her schedule. Eventually, she gathered the courage to speak. “You, You're a, well, you're…” “Fabulous? Yes, I know.” He interrupted before she could continue. “Uh, No,” She muttered, a little startled. “I was going to say that you're…” “Incredibly skilled? Good natured? Extremely humorous?” “A skeleton.” “Ah, yes, there is that too.” He said that as though it were an afterthought. She frowned. “But it shouldn't be possible.” “Indeed it shouldn't. Yet here I stand. Also, I'm just curious, what exactly were you planning to do with that?” He asked, motioning at the cheese knife with his gloved hand. “Oh, uh…” Now that he mentioned it, the knife seemed a little pointless. Awkwardly, Ophelia placed it back down on the desk. This can't be happening. Maybe I'm just seeing hallucinations due to my lack of sleep. It's not uncommon. Her head started to spin, mostly because it couldn't seem to accept that this was all happening. She'd seen a great many things in her profession - from bloodied trunks to half missing bodies, to name a few of less unsettling sights - and had left each case behind (mostly) unfazed. But talking skeletons with some sort of telekinetic powers? That was the stuff of stories, fairy tales. It shouldn't be something that was standing before her, in her own office.