"Goddamnit, Mortuus. Open this door." It was the voice of Officer Lamb, and he sounded relatively pissed with Mortuus. Mortuus sighed and looked at the recordings that were left to watch. "Breaking and entering might not have been my brightest idea."
Death leaned against an open locker door while running a finger along his scythe's blade. "You think??" he said in a rather annoyed tone of voice. Death was obviously getting tired of having to tell Mortuus his plans were stupid and going to backfire, only for Mortuus to ignore him.
Mortuus turned the door handle and opened it to greet Officer Lamb. "So... Uh... How's it going, Lamb?" Mortuus joked nervously as he saw how unamused the officer was. Officer Lamb didn't even bother to remove the rectangular shades he was wearing.
"Why is it that every time something goes wrong in Crater Hollow, you're at the center of it?" Officer Lamb questioned Mortuus.
"Perchance thou hast an unwholesome preoccupation with Mortuus," Death said despite knowing that Officer Lamb was incapable of understanding his weird words, much less even hearing a spirit speak. As usual, Mortuus was not going to reveal that the literal embodiment of death was in the room and talking to the two of them.
Mortuus walked beside Officer Lamb as he was led out; the officer didn't bother to cuff him as this was a fairly common occurrence. "Listen, Mort... I get that you're dead, but you still have to respect common law." Lamb explained as he walked with Mortuus out of the power plant, "You can't just go around doing anything just because you're a dead man."
Mortuus sighed and nodded, "Yeah, yeah. I know, Lamb. My actions have consequences for others." He then turned to Officer Lamb with an inquisitive expression, "How'd you know I was here?"
Officer Lamb had to cover his mouth to act professional and keep from laughing, "There's only one dead person in this town, Mortuus." As Lamb said this, Mortuus could hear Death laughing behind them. Death had been following along quietly since they were in the security room.
"If he only knew how many doth walk amongst him." Death chuckled to himself, to which Mortuus rolled his eyes. Thankfully, the bandages that he reapplied prevented Officer Lamb from noticing Mortuus's gesture, which certainly helped conceal his ability to hear, see, and communicate with angels.
"As soon as someone called about a 'zombie-mummy,' I already knew it was you." Lamb continued, "Which, granted, is kind of redundant."
Mortuus laughed as he, too, pointed out the obvious, "Yeah, I guess since a mummy is technically just a zombie in toilet paper, it does make the sentence 'zombie-mummy' sound kinda stupid."
The pair walked out of the power plant and started heading towards the police station, which was a few blocks down the road. "I'll be honest with you, Mort." Officer Lamb sighed before continuing, "I don't really feel like putting you in jail again."
Mortuus looked at the officer as they were entering the station; he was confused by Lamb's choice. "And why not? I'm not exactly your typical innocent man." He asked, well aware that he probably had broken a gazillion laws by now.
Lamb sat in his chair and fixed a picture sitting on the desk so that it was better positioned for him to see. "I recently reviewed the footage from our camera inside cell three..." He began.
Mortuus gulped nervously; that was always his cell. "Oh... So... Did you see anything interesting?" Officer Lamb nodded, "I did indeed. You were the only one in that cell... Who was moving those pieces, Mortuus?"
Mortuus thought for a minute. He had been playing chess against Death, but if he said that, he'd probably sound like a crazy person. "I was just playing against myself, Lamb. Even a dead man can afford to work on their chess skills."
Officer Lamb rolled his eyes and sighed, "Don't bullshit me, Mortuus. I know you were with another person." He said in a very calm but clearly annoyed tone.
Mortuus nodded, "Alright, alright. Fine! I was playing a mouse." It was obviously a lie, but since the jailhouse does have mice, it was somewhat believable. Plus, it was hard to prove that an out-of-frame mouse wasn't to blame.
Officer Lamb sighed again and waved his hand in frustration. "Whatever. That's not even why I brought you in." He paused a minute before continuing. "You can't just go around trespassing wherever you want."
Mortuus rolled his eyes under the bandages. "Rules apply to the living... Of which I am not," He replied coldly, as though his body's decaying state was beginning to infect his attitude.
"Jesus, Mortuus. You're not some Batman or something. Hell, you're hardly a hero." Officer Lamb scoffed as he leaned back in his chair and swiveled it from side to side. It was pretty accurate since he was actually more of an anti-hero.
Mortuus sighed and nodded, "Yeah, well, I don't see you or your little baseball team trying to investigate the strange occurrences at the power plant." Mortuus leaned back in his chair as if taunting Officer Lamb. It certainly didn't make Officer Lamb happy to hear his fellow officers being referred to as a "baseball team."
The officer stroked his mustache as he leaned forward and peered over the desk at Mortuus. "You mean that urban legend... The... The... Uh... Guardian Ghost, was it?" Officer Lamb asked as he thought about it. He'd definitely heard of this cryptid, but that's all it was: an urban legend and nothing more.
"Aren't you a little old to believe in fairy tales, Mortuus?" Officer Lamb eyed him suspiciously. "If you can tell me my age, then I'll consider it." Mortuus retorted since not even he knew his own age, which was only about twenty years old at most.
"You're a real dick, Mortuus. A simple no would have serficed." Lamb said with a heavy sigh.
"Yeah... But we both know that's not how I roll." Mortuus laughed and removed his firearm to clean the barrel. Immediately, Mortuus had a bunch of officers with guns pointed at his head. He definitely wasn't expecting that, but if he'd thought ahead, it was undoubtedly an obvious outcome.
"Well... Uh... This... This was not meant to happen." Mortuus said rather drully. He gently placed his revolver onto Lamb's desk and held his hands to the back of his head. The bullets wouldn't hurt him, but if one missed, the stray bullet could definitely hurt someone else.
"You should probably leave, Mortuus," Lamb said as he picked up the gun and slid it into a desk drawer. Mortuus stood and walked out with hands over his head.
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