Here there be witches... (IC thread)

Note: The main role has been filled, but this story will be ever changing. If you would still like to get involved in some way, feel free to PM me with your ideas.
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Max was tired. He'd been on the trail of this girl for months and it had been exhausting just trying to keep up with her. Those damned magic users were a crafty bunch, he knew, but he was getting close. He believed he now had all of to evidence to implicate her in the killing of Ivan Korval, a wealthy businessman who had owned iCorp, one of the largest businesses in the country. When his body had been found in his home, it had been taken for an autopsy which revealed upon inspection, that magic had been used to kill him and that could only mean a witch or a warlock. This came as no surprise to anyone because Ivan Korval had been a large donor to the NYPD's new anti-witch task force. He had funded the new weapons, and the new technology that allowed the police to combat the witches and warlocks effectively. The task force had been founded under the orders of New York City's mayor and the direction of the police chief. Many witches and warlocks were now in hiding, but others were obviously taking the fight to the streets.

Not every human agreed with the war against witches, as evidenced by the existence of such organizations as Witchpeace, but Max detested such groups. He had seen witches and warlocks continually use their powers for self-gain and even for the purpose of committing crimes. This made him angry. It was why, when the task force had first been formed, he'd volunteered for it. He was now a detective in the force, and the head of the Ivan Korval case. Max was tall, and his black hair grew thick over his head. He had brown eyes and was built strong. He could be a formidable presence if he wanted to be.

All of the evidence had led him to a young witch who had largely hid amongst humans by simply not using her powers. But she must have been taught in their use by someone or she would not ave been able to effectively kill Ivan Korval within his own home. She certainly must have also known that the cops were now after her. That did not deter him however. He now had the witch's address and it was time he paid her a visit...

The stress from the past few months was certainly beginning to show. Matilda looked at her pale face reflected back at her in her bathroom mirror. The surface was speckled with moisture from her recent shower and lines of water ran down from where she had disturbed the fog with the edge of her towel. Unhappily, she gazed at herself in the tiny circle she’d created. The sensitive skin beneath her eyes was slightly purple and looked as if an artist had smudged her with chalk. Red veins were clearly visible on the whites of her eyes and in general, she simply looked run-down.

Not having a decent night’s sleep for near three months will do that to you, Maddy, she mused silently to herself.

Even her face looked thinner, she realized. Frown lines creased at the edges of her full lips as she poked her cheek. Her skin felt paper thin against her cheek bone, and appeared just as white. Her flesh was usually a smooth, alabaster tone, but had she not known herself, she would have guessed her face was plastered with pure white stage makeup.

The young college student reflected back to last year when she had been happier, almost blissful. Her classes hadn’t been as difficult, allowing her more free time. However, free time was a relative term in her opinion. When she hadn’t been in class or studying, she was either working to support herself or secretly studying to increase her knowledge of the inherent abilities that made her a witch.

This year, the work loads for her classes were more intense and she worked even more hours in an attempt to keep her bills paid as her school expenses mounted. Her responsibilities as a witch did not seem to be going well either. Her concentration was broken and she wasn’t learning as quickly as she would have liked.

Lack of time to keep up with all of her course work meant she spent many nights struggling to stay awake hovering over a text book. When she did find the time to sleep, her thoughts were plagued with guilt and anxieties over the recent events in the last seven months. It was a wonder she hadn’t simply dropped from exhaustion.

She was a member of an organization made up of magic users who were intent on one day reclaiming their rights. On top of everything else, she owed her allegiance to the members. They had vowed to protect her when their last operation had gone horribly wrong. Her sense of duty would not allow her to abandon them, or deny to do what they requested. They were the only one she felt that she could trust in the current climate. The harsh anti-witch laws had stirred up a lot of public hatred. Some days, she feared for her life if anyone decided to take out that hatred on her…

Max walked down Broadway. This girl, did not live too far from the station so he had decided he would walk to her apartment. If worst came to worst, he could call for back-up. He always hated questioning young suspects. It was a part of his job that he had always had trouble adjusting to. But he knew that this was the most important case he'd ever received in his career. He had to do it as much as it bothered him. A perp was a perp, regardless of age, and it was his duty to catch them. He had signed up for the job as a police officer first, and now a detective, and he didn't have to like it to know that he had to do it.

It was unfortunate really, but he was all but certain that this young girl had committed Ivan Korval's murder. The real question now was not how, but why. What was her motive? Why had she wanted him dead? The obvious reason was because she was a witch and Ivan Korval had fought and spent millions of dollars campaigning against them. But that didn't seem to fit the profile of this girl who had done everything she could to integrate with human society. She had not involved herself in any controversy before this event.

A possibility was that one of the radical witches or warlocks had convinced her to join one of the underground organizations. The unfortunate reality was that such organizations were attempting to recruit members much like a presidential candidate would attempt to gain votes. Or perhaps her profile was all wrong. Perhaps she had taken the cops for a ride purposefully so that she could pull off the murder. Whatever the case, she had been discovered and would pay for it. Just because they were witches didn't make them free from the laws that governed humans.

He didn't want to have to enact such grave consequences on someone so young, but she hadn't given him much choice. He turned down a side street and headed towards a medium-sized apartment building. A murder is a murder, no matter what the age or gender or race of the perp. He grimaced as he flashed his badge and was allowed into the apartment building by the man who worked at the front desk. "Thank you," he said.

"Of course, sir," the desk assistant replied glancing at the badge again. "Can I help you find someone?"

"Oh, why yes. Do you know the apartment number of a Matilda-?"

He didn't even get to say her last name before the desk assistant chimed in with, "Yes sir, 5th floor, apartment f."

"Thank you again," Max replied as he headed for the elevator. [How did he...? Max was confused until he had another thought. Is he a...? I'll have to make a note of that. He pressed the button and it was not long until the elevator had arrived and he stepped inside. At least the desk assistant saw my badge and didn't get too nosy. But he may already know if... Ah well, I'm thinking too much into it. The elevator stopped on the fifth floor and he stepped off. He walked down the hallway until he reached apartment f, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

While Maddy briskly rubbed her dark hair with a towel to help dry the long locks, she tried to keep her mind on things that wouldn't upset her and make her nervously twisting stomach worsen. Work was usually safe. She had few responsibilities outside of the little shop. All she had to do was arrive, do her tasks, maybe lock up now and then, and go home. She didn't have to worry about that, unless she got fired - No don't even think that, she reprimanded herself silently.

Though many people hated their jobs, she enjoyed her time spent at the small rare book store. The owner was a gentleman in his fourties, originally from England. He had a 20 year old daughter who worked their with him as well. Maddy had become close with Julie over the past year and she was glad to call her a friend. Though she wasn't as close with her boss, they still got along very well.

She was about to retreat to her bedroom to change when her phone rang. She picked up the handset without hesitating. "Hello?"

"Hey Mads, I hope you cleared your schedule Friday night for me like you planned!" Julie's excited voice quickly said. "The party is on and you're going even if I have to kidnap you!"

Matilda smiled, laughing quick and soft. "And I'll tell you again, Jules, I can't be certain something important won't come up."

"Pssh. If you blow me off, I'll never speak to you again. Ever. You've broken my little heart enough. I don't deserve that." Her mirth was evident in her tone. Maddy could imagine her blond friend barely containing her laughter.

"You know you're the only one, J. If you and Eric come over for dinner tonight, I swear I'll be there. And what are you doing throwing a party any way? You're not 21," she teased.

"Look who's become miss innocent. Don't forget that night last year you drank so much I had to carry you home! But you have yourself a deal. Eric has off tonight. We'll bring groceries."

"Great, I've been meaning to talk to him but I've just been so busy," she responded while searching through one of her drawers for socks and underwear. Inside, she was bursting with happiness. Having friends over would keep her mind occupied. She hadn't been that social. Having Julie nad her boyfriend over would be a good pick-me-up.

"He asked me how you were last night. We're all worried about you." Julie was sounding more serious now, causing Maddy to sigh.

"I know you guys are, and I'm grateful. But I'll be fine. Tell your dad to stop looking all concerned when I come into the shop."

Julie chuckled. "Yeah, right. He cares about you as if you were like a daughter. I've been trying to get him to adopt ya," she said playfully.

Maddy was about to respond when a loud knock sounded on the door of her apartment. Her mind suddenly stopped. Shoooot! Rent! She groaned as she realized the super was probably going to be sternly reprimanding her for being late with the payment again.

"You ok?" Her friend asked.

"Yeah, yeah. Someone's at the door. I'll have to call you back sweetie."

"You better. Hugs and love, darling. Don't forget me."

"Not a chance." She hung up and rushed to the door in her robe, grabbing an envelope of money from her desk on the way. Mrs. Cranage was a 50 year old woman whom had seen her in a robe before so she wasn't worried about her state of undress. "I'm coming Mrs. Cranage!" she cried loud enough to be heard through the door. She skidded to a stop, made sure her bath robe was closed tightly and opened the door.

Her eyes widened to find not her landlord, but a man. Embarrassment suddenly reddened her white cheeks at being seen in her robe and a pair of ratty slippers which obviously needed to be washed. She stammered a quick apology to him and shoved her rent money into her pocket, making a mental note to pay Mrs. Cranage before heading to work.

She swallowed and tried to rid herself of the shock that had stilled her. I must look like a gaping idiot... "May I help you?" she tentatively asked.

"Yes, I'm detective Max Waterson, from the NYPD. I have a few questions to ask you. You ARE Matilda I presume?" He looked her over while he flashed her his badge. "I suppose I could let you finish getting dressed too, but if you're comfortable the way you are, that's also fine."

Damn, he though to himself, I hate having to do this to the pretty ones... But I did sign up for this.

He walked in and looked around the apartment. It was the typical apartment of a college student, nothing seemed particularly out of place. That he could see at any rate. He noticed the girl seemed more shocked than simply nervous. But he persisted. "The questions are in regards to the recent murder of Ivan Korval. Now normally I would be required to take you down to the station for such questions but I have been given special court permission to ask the questions here," he said handing her a piece of paper signed by a New York City judge. As always, you maintain your right not to answer any questions and to demand a lawyer be present before I can ask any questions." He smiled at her as she still hadn't responded, just standing, a bit shocked. "Don't worry, I won't be arresting you." Not yet anyhow, he thought. "And the questions won't take long. But as I said, you can refuse to answer them, it's your right."

Max did his best to seem charming. Normally with a witch he'd care less about that, but there was something different about this one, he could tell at once. There was something there that he couldn't quite place his finger on, but he knew she was not like the other witches. "I obtained permission to perform the questioning here because I want to make this situation as painless as possible, and I didn't want to have to make you come down to the station. I figured you would appreciate that."

"So what do you say? Shall I ask the questions now or will you be seeking the counsel of a lawyer first? If you'd like, I could come back after you've obtained proper counsel."

Max knew he might well be turned away, but he had felt the need to come personally. He wanted her to get a chance to see him before the questioning and most of all, he wanted a chance to get to meet her. Plus, he certainly didn't want to frighten the poor girl by bringing her into the police station. Questioning always went less smoothly in the station than when the questioning was conducted outside of it. He wanted straight answers and a spooked girl would not provide them. And she might well decide to answer the questions now anyway. If so, that was fine with him.

Matilda allowed her visitor into her apartment. Once she knew who he was, she felt like she'd been doused with ice. The police questioning her? That did not bode well. She was not particularly secretive, nor good at being sneaky. If they wanted to find something out about her, it wouldn't be hard to do so.

For a time, she considered his offer, listening to carefully. She was working very hard to not be paralyzed by her fear, but his presence in her doorway - and not her landlady - certainly had thrown her off balance.

Should she let him question her here? Should she go to the station? Part of her knew it would be smartest to seek a lawyer but at the same time she was foolishly hoping she could avoid all of that and he'd leave her be if she cooperated. But a murder was no simple matter, and if they had set their eyes on her... A chill went down her spine.

"Let me change then I'll be right with you." She pointed towards her counter. "The coffee is still hot if you want any." Her lips twitched into a strained smile, but her eyes still remained far away.

After retreating to her bedroom and closing the door, Maddy allowed herself a moment to let the panic in. It almost made her collapse, but instead she gripped her doorknob. She took many deep breaths and was soon slipping into a pair of jeans and a white knit sweater once her fear had lessened slightly. She was stalling...

She still did not know if she wanted to go to the station or stay in her apartment. Could she trust what she said wouldn't be twisted later? Either way, she was unwilling to trust the inquisitor waiting in her kitchen. As a witch, she had long ago realized her kind were often unwelcome and persecuted. She didn't know how fair her treatment would be... but the detective seemed honest enough. She'd soon find out.

She returned to the kitchen, her discomfort clearly etched into her youthful, but haggard face. "I don't mind answering anything you need to know right now." And I hope I have answers for them... Ones that won't get me into anymore trouble.

Max was sitting on the couch when she returned, and he looked at her. "I must admit... This is a nice appartment you've got here. Especially for being a college student." He smiled and tried to be polite, to put her at ease.

"So you've decided to answer my questions? Well good, then I promise not to keep you for too long." He looked at her again, he couldn't deny feeling a strange attraction to her, but he tried to ignore it as it was time for him to be serious now. He had a job to do.

"As you know, Ivan Korval was murdered in his own home and the NYPD has been in persuit of his killer for quite some time. I don't want to alarm you, but I want you to know that we investigate even the most minute possibilities in full detail. If there is even the slightest chance of a connection, we are obligated to pursue it. That is what has brought me here today, to question you. Now you know that by agreeing to allow us to question you, you have given us permission to make a record of the session." He pulled out a tape recorder and placed it by her. "I nust ask that when you answer your questions, you speak clearly and into the tape recorder. And remember, lying to a police officer is a punishable offence." He placed his hands on the table so that she wouldn't be nervous about them, worrying what he might do.

"I assure you that this is not a pleasure trip for me, so I'd like you to take this every bit as seriously as I do." He relaxed just a little bit, leaning back in the chair. The questions were a serious matter for sure, and he hoped she would answer them in all seriousness as well, but there was no need to be formal and rigid about it. "But you look like you need to get some lunch in you, so by all means, if you'd like to fix something to eat, I see no reason to stop you. While I want you to answer seriously, there is no reason we need to be absolutely formal about this. You are not at the station and nobody is watching us. There should be no trouble."

She still seemed shocked more than anything. And eager to have him leave as soon as possible. That was as clear as a bell to him. He had taken total charge of the conversation at the moment, as he had expected he would. He always did in situations like this unless he was dealing with a particularly drunk or otherwise intoxicated person. She was not either as far as he could tell. So she won't spill any major answers unless I ask the right questions, he thought. I'd better make sure I do then.

"Shall we begin? I think the first question I have is simple enough. I want you to describe the course of your day, from waking up through going to bed on April 29th as detailed as you can. The more detailed your answer, the better." He looked at her and smiled. "You can get up and make some food for yourself if you'd like. Just make sure that your voice will be recorded by the tape recorder when you speak."

Matilda knew a lot more about the murder than she was comfortable with admitting. She tried to hide her discomfort, but she knew that she was failing. It would be prudent of her to be fully open and cooperative with the detective, but deeper loyalties demanded that she stay silent. The underground coven would view her admissions as a betrayal. By her actions, she would be silently saying she didn't trust them to protect her, or their kind.

She sat in a chair facing him, sinking into the somewhat shabby cushion. She'd saved money wherever she could and second hand furniture had helped her out a great deal. She was reminded of this when he commented on her apartment. "It is a nice apartment... I thought I'd be able to afford it on top of school, but I'm falling behind in my bills. I think I'll have to move." Moving was something she didn't want to do. She currently lived in a somewhat safe area. Her apartment wasn't huge, but it was clean and well taken care of. She'd end up in a place with cracked walls, stained floors on a street she may be afraid to step foot on.

She smiled uncertainly at the man sitting on her couch. She admired his clean shaven visage and crisp suit. She'd always found herself drawn to men in t-shirts and tight jeans, but Max wore a suit well. She never considered someone so clean cut to be attractive, but he was. Her mind was absently wondering what it be like to get to know him outside of this situation. He was older than her, but that mattered little. Few of the males her age were mature enough for her liking.

He asked about the day of the murder and her mind froze again. She wanted to say that she had been no where near Ivan the day he had been killed, but that was a lie. And he knew it too. He wouldn't be questioning her if her presence at Ivan's hadn't been confirmed by physical evidence.

She silently cursed Raul, the one who had promised the police would never find anything to link her to Ivan.

She began slowly and reluctantly. "You know that I'm witch. Since we all had to register... I'm not the kind who is willing to cause riots. I don't think the control people want over us is fair, but I'm willing to live as normally and quietly as possible. The magic users I know think I'm a bit of a traitor. Some of them don't want me to be involved with their groups. And I know I shouldn't be. Some of them do cause violence. And wouldn't mind killing as many humans as possible." She sighed heavily. "I'm telling you this because I'm a member of a 'free witches' movement. I thought they were peaceful, but I'm learning they use dark magic. They've been spying on.. well, were spying on Ivan. Just to keep someone close to him to track his movements and report back to the group. For a while... it was me. I worked in his office as a personal assistant."

She squirmed slightly, drawing her arms in closer to her body. He could tell she was growing very agitated by the confession. A desperate look in her eyes told him she wanted to say more but was afraid to. He would have to coax more out of her, even if gentle prodding would cause her to open up and reveal the secrets she was hiding.

Max looked her over. She was pretty and very attractive. He could see that she had been taken advantage of, that much was clear. But he needed more answers. What she had told him wasn't enough. He would have to find out more by getting her to trust him. And he knew that he just might be able to offer her something she truly needed.

She had ceased to be shocked at his presence and had finally fallen into pure nervousness. She had more to say, he could see it in her eyes, but she didn't want to say it. She's afraid for her life, Max thought to himself. And I don't blame her. She's afraid to tell me about her Seems as if she's fallen into a crowd she doesn't fit in with at all. "Our job is to protect the lives of the innocent," he said to her, "Ivan had broken no laws and he died. You must tell us what you know. We must have this information, and I can assure you, if you tell us the truth, we will protect you. We are out to catch those who have wronged, and not those who have been wronged. The NYPD has had its issues in the past, but we honestly do the best we can. We enforce the laws, as ugly as they may be."

He smiled at her. "Trust me, if you can give us any clues as to what happened that day, who was behind the killing, then you can count on us to make sure nothing happens to you. As you have probably guessed by now, we know you were involved in the killing. But if you were forced or coerced into it, then that changes the situation entirely. You can be a valuable tool in setting right the wrongs that have been committed. Things may just turn out in your favor." He tried to sound assuring to her, but as calm and cool as he tried to look and sound, his mind was getting nervous. This was shaping out to be much bigger tan he'd imagined. What he'd thought had been orchestrated by one or maybe a small handful of witches looked to be much more. And of course, when he thought about it, it all made sense. And they set it up so that we would only implicate this poor girl in the murder he thought to himself, While they get off completely free, this girl serves life in jail or more likely gets killed under the new laws.

Max didn't like witches, but he was beginning to feel sympathy for Matilda, because he was starting to feel that she hadn't willingly been involved in the murder. Max didn't like this at all. Taking advantage of someone was despicable, no matter who was doing it to who. It couldn't be forgiven. He knew he had to get to the bottom of this. There was still the chance that she had willingly played her role, but he was beginning to doubt that. He looked her over again, and as pretty as he thought she was (a sight to behold for sure), she was looking a bit frail at the moment and she was glancing around the kitchen now, and he knew what that meant.

"You clearly haven't eaten yet," he said to her standing up and reaching for his coat. "Lunch is on me, I know this pleasant little cafe we can go to. We'll finish this discussion there. I can get us an extremely private booth." He slipped his jacket over his back and looked at her. "Shall we?"

Matilda was about to refuse his offer of food and ask that, if they were going to continue talking about Ivan and other delicate issues, she didn't want to do it in a restaurant booth. No matter how private it could be. Her refusal was cut off by the low growl of her stomach. Traitor, her mind thought bitterly at the organ. She looked at the man again and he offered a smile that said, You sure you want to say no?

She wasn't greedy, but with her money problems, a free meal was still a free meal. It also meant a few extra dollars in her pocket. She smiled back shyly and nodded and grabbed her own coat by the door.

By leaving the apartment building with him, she was taking a great risk. She was sure she was being watched by those who had decided to use her as a pawn against Ivan. Being taken somewhere by a detective could possibly sign her death warrant. IF she told the detective everything she knew. She was tempted to, because her conscience was weakening under guilt. The idea of prison or execution made her shudder. But she'd be safe from the dangerous witches of the underground. If she talked... would the police be able to protect her? She highly doubted they could.

But the kind smile of the man who held the door open for her to pass by and the understanding in his eyes made her hopeful. And curious. Why would he show her any kindness? She was a witch after all.

Matilda decided she'd go to lunch and judge him further. If she felt she could trust him, and that he could offer adequate protection... she could confess what had occurred the night of Ivan's death.

Wow, he thought, this girl is a bold one. He waited as she grabbed her coat and walked out of the apartment. He smiled at her again, trying to be as understanding as possible. He hated witches sure, but there was something different about this girl. He let her lead the way until they were out of the building and then pointed down the street. "There's a restaurant about for or so blocks down that way that I've been to many times before. Don't worry, they'll give us privacy." He then took the lead from her as they walked to the restaurant. As they arrived at the door to it, he opened it and held it for her once again. He waited for her to walk in. When he did, he they waited for a few seconds for someone to show up. When a young girl about Matilda's age showed up he spoke to her. "Hello Ms. Hendricks."

"Please Mr. Waterson! It's Amy! How many times do I have to tell you that?" she asked with a playful giggle. Amy was a curvaceous, wavy-haired blond, with blue eyes and a big smile. She stood about 5'10 or so, and was confident and polite. She was a big flirt, but Max didn't mind. He put up with it, and even occasionally played along because he knew she always provided great service. "Will you be wanting the usual private room Mr. Waterson, sir?"

"Yes Amy, is that possible?" Max smiled at her. He knew he didn't have to ask, as the room would always be made available for him if he needed it, but he liked the show.

"Yes Mr. Hendrix," she giggled, "it is open and ready to be used." She flashed a confident smile at him. "Important business today?"

"Ah, yes Amy, quite important."

"Yes sir, of course!" She walked over to him, slid her hand up his arm and grabbed the neck of his coat and Max laughed as he felt Amy's body right next to his. "Let me take this for you," she said pulling it off of him. "I will of course, be in charge of serving you as usual."

"Really?" He pretended to be surprised even though she always was. "Thanks Amy, you're a doll," he said winking at her. Amy placed his coat on a chair next to her.

"Of course Mr. Waterson," she said. "Here at Ben's Steakhouse, our customers come first. I will knock before entering, as ALWAYS."

That's when Amy turned and looked over to Matilda. She flashed a big smile at her and walked over to face her. She looked with confident and friendly eyes into Matilda's. "And who is this lovely lady we have here?" She said addressing Matilda. "Here, let me take your coat too," she reached up and slid Matilda's coat off as well.

Max looked over at Matilda as Amy addressed her, not talking but hoping to say with his face, talk to her Matilda, she's a friend.