The strangest part was that when Jamie was giving his statement, he said he heard his wife calling out to him when he first got back to the apartment.
But according to the preliminary autopsy report, his wife had already been dead for an hour before Jamie even stepped foot inside.
Detective Hoffman questioned Jamie multiple times, asking if he might've misheard, but Jamie was adamant—he knew what he heard.
That's why Hoffman felt something was seriously off about the case. He escalated it straight to the Seattle FEA branch, which is how Agents Saja and Jack ended up on the scene to investigate.
Saja, with her years of investigative experience, only needed a quick look around and a review of Hoffman's case notes to conclude this was no ordinary crime. Jamie's wife wasn't killed by human hands—this was a supernatural case, no question.
Meanwhile, Roy had already spotted the doll Jamie mentioned. It was the doll, the iconic Billy from that creepy movie.
Roy and Jennifer exchanged a glance. They could both feel the dark energy lingering on the doll.
Some powerful evil spirit had probably been attached to it before, but it seemed like the spirit had already moved on.
"Mr. Black, is this what you're looking for?"
Jack noticed Roy and Jennifer's reactions and sidled up with a sly grin.
That grin of his gave off a weird vibe, making Roy and Jennifer frown slightly.
"Yeah. Can we take this doll with us?"
Through this doll, they might be able to summon the Hellhound's shadow to track down Mary Shaw.
Jack spread his hands with a shrug.
"Hey, I'm just a rookie agent. That's a call only Saja can make."
Saja had just walked in from another room and overheard Jack.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing, Saja. Mr. Black here wants to take that doll that was lying by the bed."
Saja's sharp gaze flicked to the doll on the floor, then to Roy's face.
"Mr. Black, is there something special about this doll?"
Roy couldn't just demand to take it without a reason. That old-fashioned, handcrafted doll clearly had something going on, and Saja, being the seasoned agent she was, picked up on it immediately.
Roy raised an eyebrow. He didn't really want to explain, but it looked like Saja wasn't going to let him walk out with Billy the doll unless he gave her something.
"It's not a big deal. I heard the suspect, Jamie Ashen, mention this doll might be connected to Ravensfair, so I want to take it there to check it out."
Saja's brow furrowed.
"Mr. Black, care to share what case you're working on?"
"Not really."
That did not sit well with Saja.
In terms of rank, Saja was a mid-level FEA agent, while Roy was just a standard agent. Even though they weren't from the same branch, the hierarchy was clear.
"Agent Black, if you're not willing to share, I'm afraid I can't let you take that doll."
Saja's tone was firm. This middle-aged Black woman seemed to genuinely see Roy as just some low-level agent.
Roy, who wouldn't even give face to a Navy admiral, sure as hell wasn't about to kowtow to her. Waiting for her to show up before starting the investigation was already more than enough courtesy.
"Ms. Anderson, I'm taking this doll whether you like it or not. If you've got a problem, take it up with the higher-ups."
With that, Roy bent down, picked up the wooden doll, and started to leave with Jennifer.
No matter who she complained to, Roy wasn't worried. His name carried weight at FEA headquarters—no one was going to hassle him over something this small.
Not even someone from Armacham would be that dumb.
But then, Saja suddenly stepped in front of Roy, blocking his path.
"Are you ignoring me because I'm Black? Is that it?"
Roy: What the hell?
Talk about pulling the race card out of nowhere—a zero-frame accusation, smacking a racism label right on his head.
Roy looked at Saja with disgust.
Some groups just loved playing this game, waving the discrimination flag to get their way. If you didn't comply, they'd try to ruin you.
With the Black Lives Matter movement gaining traction in recent years, plenty of people had climbed the ranks by leaning on political correctness.
And it seemed Saja Anderson was one of them.
Saja smirked, her dark face radiating smugness. Usually, when she played this trump card, people backed down.
"You caught me. Yeah, I'm racist. So what?"
"You—wait, what did you just say?"
Roy looked at Saja, who was gaping at him, and repeated himself, slow and deliberate.
"Ni—er. Got a problem with that?"
Roy had said the same thing in front of Gerald before Roy wasn't fazed. Gerald was a typical Southern Black guy who wouldn't lose it over a word like that. Hell, with how tight he and Roy were, Gerald would probably just laugh it off as a joke.
But Saja, this middle-aged Black woman, clearly couldn't handle it. She lost it, yanking out her gun and aiming it at Roy.
"You're going to apologize for that word right now!"
Roy just stared at her, unfazed.
"Which word?"
"The N—! Apologize, now!"
Saja was shaking with rage, her face twisted into something ugly. She wasn't exactly a looker to begin with, but now she looked like a rabid gorilla.
Jennifer, standing next to Roy, started to move, but Roy signaled her to hold off.
No need to get their hands dirty with a nobody like this.
"Alright, N-word lady, I'll apologize when I've got the time. For now, step aside."
Roy didn't believe for a second that Saja would shoot. This wasn't some "Black lives matter" peak moment—shooting someone over a word wouldn't hold up in court.
Plus, Roy was a Texan. Discrimination in Texas? Please. The only Black folks you'd see there were working the fields.
Saja's flat chest was heaving like she'd grown a few cup sizes from pure anger, but as Roy figured, she didn't have the guts to pull the trigger.
After all, she wasn't some street thug—she was a licensed FEA mid-level agent. One shot, and her career was done.
She'd be back on the streets, popping out kids and raising them as a single mom.
At that moment, Jack grabbed Saja's shoulder.
"Saja, chill out!"
But somehow, against all odds, Saja's finger twitched, and she fired. The bullet grazed the back of Roy's head, taking out a few strands of hair.
Saja's face went pale, like she couldn't believe what she'd done. She hadn't meant to shoot—it was like her hand acted on its own.
Now things were really messed up.
"I—I didn't mean to!"
Before she could finish, she noticed Roy was fine, aside from a few missing hairs.
But for Roy, that was a big deal.
Roy was all about his image, and losing even a few strands pissed him off.
Even Asmodeus hadn't made Roy lose hair!
"You N-word! What the hell's your problem?"
Roy spun around, glaring at Saja. He handed Billy the doll to Jennifer and started walking toward her.
"I—I… stay back!"
Saja stammered, panic setting in as Roy approached.
In a desperate move, she fired again, unloading her pistol at him.
But Roy's agility and toughness were off the charts. He could catch heavy machine gun rounds with his bare hands—Saja's little peashooter was nothing.
Roy slapped her across the face, knocking out half her teeth and sending her crashing to the floor, out cold.
"What the hell happened?"
The cops guarding the crime scene rushed in after hearing the shots. They saw Saja sprawled on the floor, half her face caved in, and Roy casually wiping his hand.
"Nothing much. Ms. Anderson had a toothache, so I gave her a quick dental adjustment."
Yeah, right.
A toothache that cost her all her teeth, fixed with a slap? That was some next-level BS.
But Jack, Saja's little sidekick, didn't say a word, like he was cool with Roy's story. The cops didn't know what to make of it.
"Uh, should we get Ms. Anderson to a hospital?"
Her face was a mess—pretty damn gruesome.
Roy knew exactly how hard he'd hit her. She looked bad, but she wasn't dying. She'd just need some serious plastic surgery.
And honestly, that might be an improvement for her face.
"What are you standing around for? She's gonna wake up in pain soon. Forget it, I'll handle it."
Roy pulled out his phone and called an ambulance—the fancy, overpriced kind that federal insurance wouldn't touch.
Saja was gonna cry tears of joy when she woke up to that bill.
The other cops, if they knew what Roy had done, would've been terrified.
In America, that kind of move was brutal. If Saja woke up on that ambulance and found out it wasn't covered by insurance, she'd probably jump out the damn window.
Here's hoping she slept all the way to the hospital, saving the real surprise for when the bill arrived.
With that sorted, Roy and Jennifer left the apartment, ignoring Jack.
After they were gone, Jack crouched next to Saja, pretending to check on her.
But when the ambulance arrived, the paramedics found Saja's heart had stopped.
On the surface, her only injury was the slap from Roy. No other wounds, no signs of poison or illness.
It was like that one slap had killed her.
The official cause of death would need an autopsy to confirm.
When Jack got the news, he was livid.
"What?! That guy slapped Saja to death? I'm reporting this to the higher-ups!"
He stormed off, making calls.
After a few heated conversations, the entire Seattle FEA branch was up in arms.
A mid-level agent killed on the spot? That was a massive embarrassment for a law enforcement agency.
If they didn't fix this, FEA agents wouldn't be able to show their faces in public.
Every FEAR member was mobilized, led by two senior agents, heading to the small town where Roy was.
After reporting to FEA brass, Jack made another call.
"Hey, Ella? Someone's looking for you. Better watch your back."
He hung up, watching the ambulance haul Saja's body away, a cold smirk on his face.
Roy didn't know any of this. He and Jennifer, with Billy the doll in tow, headed to the hotel Madison's crew had booked for the night.
It was late, and while Roy and Jennifer were still good to go, the four Apocalypse girls were wiped out.
As witches, their physical stamina was average at best. Carrie, with her Samael bloodline, was a bit tougher, but not by much.
When they got to the reserved suite, the room was pitch black. Roy knew right away the Apocalypse girls were up to something.
Sure enough, the lights flickered on, revealing four "holy" nuns, each holding a lit candle.
"What are you guys up to now?"
Roy swallowed hard. He didn't need to guess—this was definitely Madison and Maria's idea.
Those two witches were like Bonnie and Clyde, always cooking up wild schemes even Penny couldn't dream of.
Guess that's what you get from Hollywood types. Penny, who'd only hustled in small-town dive bars, couldn't compete with their flair.
And of course, Zoe and Carrie were happy to play along with Madison and Maria's nonsense. This group prank was almost too much to handle.
"Mr. Black, we're here to hear your confession—ow!"
Madison started strong, nailing the pious nun vibe, but then she yelped.
Melted wax had dripped onto her hand, and the burn broke her act. She blew on her hand, trying to cool it off.
"Ugh, Madison! This is all your fault! You ruined the vibe!"
Maria was pissed. They'd had the perfect setup, and Madison blew it.
"What was I supposed to do? The wax burned me!"
"I told you to get those low-temp candles! Why'd you buy these cheap ones?"
"I wanted low-temp candles! But where am I supposed to find those in this podunk town? This isn't Boston or LA!"
Low-temp candles? These girls had definitely been experimenting on their own.
The sultry atmosphere in the suite was gone, replaced by Madison and Maria bickering while Zoe and Carrie tried to calm them down.
Roy clapped his hands.
"Alright, enough about Mary Shaw and Billy the doll."
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