6) Chloe?

Artemis sees a dead girl.

6) Chloe?

When the police arrive, the ball of light hovering above the table pulsates brighter, illuminating the entire café. And I see the extent of the disaster. The police swarm into the café, filling it. They stare confused at the body in front of the door, they stare gob smacked at the blood plastering the walls. Then they stare at us �" Dante and I sat in a booth with granny brains covering the window next to us. I can see it their eyes, the disgust, and confusion. None of them understands, they ask questions to the other patrons but the stories they tell are unbelievable. But one thing all the stories have in common is a woman with bright red hair who caused it all. And us. In every story we appear, as the teenagers who were friends with the girl. Soon enough we’re questioned.
“What happened?” One officer asks. We don’t say anything. What did happen? A random girl, who clearly knows me, but I don’t know, killed that guy… that thing on the floor. Also I died, met a bunch of Gods, pretty certain the worlds ending and that everything wants to kill me. One by one the officers come up to us, asking us the same predictable questions, we don’t offer an answer to any. Instead, we sit there, Dante in stunned silence. Me, in deep thought. I watch, as the witnesses are lead out the café one by one. Until it’s just Dante and I sat in a café with a handful of officers. A huge block of a man enters. He sits down opposite us, produces a bag of peanuts from seemingly nowhere. He sits there staring at us while he munches away on peanuts.
“What happened?” He asks eventually. Staring at us, his eyes brown and empty. His short shaved black hair stands on edge. Everything about him is square. Quite literally. Square haircut. Square eyebrows. Square face. Square body. A walking talking square. “Peanuts?” He asks offering another bag to us. “Guess not.” He says. “Me, I love peanuts. Can’t get enough of them, always gotta have a bag on me or I have the wildest of cravings. Funny thing, when I was your age I was actually allergic to nuts �" all nuts. But now I can eat any kind of nut without any problem. Crazy stuff happens.” He sits back and looks at us as if trying to read our minds. He thinks we did it. “Where your parents?” He asks. Where is my dad? Dante was with my dad and me, so, his parents are still in Parlor?
“Dead.” Dante offers up. What? Had more happened than I realised?
“I’m sorry to hear.” He looks at me. I look back at him. He pops a handful of peanuts into his mouth and crunches down on them. “How about you come back to the station with us and get cleaned up, having a coffee and some chocolate.”
“Do we get a choice?” I ask.
“No.” He says standing up. He nods to another officer. We’re escorted, quite forcefully. Outside on the street there’s a crowd of reporters clambering to get unseen footage of the believed terrorists.

From inside the crowd I hear a voice. A small quiet, barely noticeable voice. But it’s there. A small unmistakeable voice. A voice I haven’t heard in a long, long time. “Chloe?” I whisper.