2020-09-05 - A Pyre for Babylon

The bonfire festival is in full swing. Sometimes that means official events arranged by the town. But some people have just decided to throw the occasional fire on the beach or on their property in the spirit of burning things.

It's a pleasant, if sticky evening - which means a walk on the boardwalk with a bit of sea breeze is just the ticket. It's late enough that most of the little beachfront shacks are closing up, but if one hurries, they could get an ice cream or a lemonade for the road.

There seems, in fact, to be a rather large bonfire down the beach, away from the boardwalk and where the lights of the town don't quite reach. Someone must be having a party down there.

Bennie's been running a seaside Kissing Booth benefiting Veterans with PTSD, the twist being the booth has been manned by none other than Gunner, a giant bull mastiff who is only too happy to lick ice cream off kids faces for the low low price of a dollar donation to the cause. He's now a certified Emotional Support Dog, but Bennie being Bennie, his official doggo vest has been bedazzled and adorned with various colorful patches.

She's closed up now and taken him to stretch both their sets of legs on the beach, throwing a stick and letting him goofily lope after the piece of driftwood as she strays closer to the bonfire like a moth to a literal flame.

With everything that Byron Thorne's been through as of late, including 'rumors' of his death, he hasn't had much time to join in on the revelries of these festivities. Even tonight, he's basically out here to pick up a quick snack for him and Lilith on his way to the Apartments from the casino, laying out a few bills at the Fried Fish Stand before he collects his package of popcorn shrimp. Since he'd just finished work, he's dressed in his familiar dark business suit get-up. The breeze was nice, even though he's suffering a bit of a sunburn over parts of his skin due to... things. Still, it won't be long before Gray Harbor reverts back to the depressive gloom and rain that it's known for, so they better enjoy this while it heat and humidity while it lasts.

From his distance, he catches sight of the blazing bonfire. A look down at his shiny watch tells him whether rather than heading back home, he might want to give Lilith a call and have her meet him down at the boardwalk instead. That idea seems to win him out. As he approaches the beacon of light on the sands, he reaches into his pocket with a free hand to fish out his phone just to send Lilith that very message. It's only then that he notices Bennie having the same idea as him and he moves to catch up to the woman, "Bennie, hey. Nice evening tonight." He then calls out in that friendly way that you talk to animals, "Hey, Gunner. Who's a good boy?"

Renata was one of the people hurrying to get to one of those shacks. She walks along the boardwalk with a satisfied look on her face as she takes another bite of her ice cream cone. This tourist season has been particularly busy for the murder motel, not allowing her much time to enjoy the festival going on just outside its doors. Her attire is casual and mostly appropriate to the weather other than the dark colors she's chosen to wear. She slows to a stop as she catches sight of the intense bonfire nearby. "Hm?" Finishing her cone, Renata decides to indulge her curiosity and skulk closer to get a better look.

The area towards that end of the beach can get rocky and hard to pass in high tide, so most people don't tend to stroll that way after sunset. The other way is easier going for a longer while, and much better lit. So it seems sort of a strange place for a bonfire, when one might have to walk in the surf to get back to the boardwalk proper.

What's also strange is, as the trio approaches, one would expect the sounds of revelry, of music, and maybe a whiff of weed. But there's nothing. Nothing but the billow of smoke and the crackle of fire. Suddenly, the wind shifts. Gunner is the first to pick up that something isn't right. It's a very strange smell that hits them all in due course. Something...acrid and charred.

"Hey Byron." Bennie greets congenially, offering him a smile that's a few watts short of her normal bulb. Chalk it up to a long day. She bends to take the slobbery stick from the dopey beast, who happily gives a ruff at hearing his name and pads over on the rocky sand to give the man's trousered leg a cursory sniff that travels all the way up until his nose is in the air, trying to get a whiff of those fried shrimp. "Yeah, doesn't suck, right? I thought I'd check out the bonfire and see if there is any communal beer floating around. Wanna join me, or are you too busy being dead?" Gunner's gaze shifts to the lady with an ice cream cone. Perhaps having formed a taste for that particular flavor that Renata is eating but then his strong nose is catching something else. Is that meat? HE LOVES MEAT. And off he goes running, much to Bennie's chagrin. "Fiddlesticks. Gunner!"

The evening was going just fine! It was a nice breezy day, Byron had popcorn shrimp. He was in good company with Bennie and the dog. And there was festivities going on! Everything as totally fine. In fact, the businessman reaches opens his package, letting out a paper crinkling sound as he does so, "Is he allowed to eat popcorn shrimp?" The man has doubts, but he looks willing to feed the dog if allowed.

HOWEVER, once Bennie mentions something about... I don't know, his death? Something in Byron almost snaps and he pauses mid-step almost as if in surprise. This lasts for a few confusing seconds, confusing for /him/ at least, but he shakes it off and continues on. "Yeah.. yeah, I thought I'd call Lilith and see if she wants to spend a summer evening out rather than in the comfort of an air conditioned apartment." He's not quite sure what that smell coming from the distance is. It was definitely meat though. Still a little disoriented from something or other, he notices Renata in the distance shortly after Gunner draws attention to her. He doesn't know the woman, but maybe he'd seen her face in the papers? A Hilton right? "Evening." He calls out.

Taking a slightly different route to Bennie and Byron, Renata manages to catch up nearer to the bonfire. She watches the dog go tearing off toward it before turning to the pair and offering a wave. "Evening," She replies politely. "Odd place to set up for a party, huh?" It's her attempt at casual conversation, but she's clearly distracted by the lack of activity around the fire. Her nose curls slightly as that strong scent wafts over to them. "Okay... what is that?"

The bonfire is roaring, with the kind of heat and intensity of a fire with an accellerant. In fact, they all figure out at about the same time that it's the smell of gasoline. Byron nearly trips over the can, in fact, that sits a few feet from the blazing fire.

And then, as they get closer, a disturbing shape forms in the fire. A human shape, charred and slumped, propped up like an effigy. The stink of burning body mixed with gasoline is in full effect. No amount of cool night air or seaside smell is going to cover that up.

Gunner seems to sense the that something is amiss before Bennie does, running around the perimeter of the fire and barking like crazy. What's that Lassie? Timmy fell down the well?

No, his agitation comes from somewhere else, and when Bennie lands eyes on that charred form in the middle of the flames, there is little screech of surprise. "There's...there's someone in there!" She looks around frantically, something to extinguish the flames. Water, water everywhere and not a drop to douse. "Someone...call the fire department!" Though in her gut, she knows this isn't a rescue. This is a crime scene.

The closer they got to the fire, the more putrid the air smelled that it started to get unbearable. Maybe that's why Byron didn't notice the cannister half-buried in rocks until he nearly tripped over it. "What's... that?" He pauses for a moment to check it out, but the stench of gasoline is hard to miss. Turning his eyes to the flame, he finally notices something in that roaring fire, which makes him slowly rise to stand.

Pain. Scorching pain. The stench of his own melting flesh.

The sight was one that filled him with dread, mixed with horror. He can't turn to look away, almost mesmerized by the very image before him. And then, when he snaps out of that, he finally turns to cough into his hand. "Jesus..." Those words are seethed from out of clenched teeth. "I'll.." He chokes back, "I'll call 911." He already has his phone out as it is.

Renata's eyes widen in surprise as she comes to a stop close enough to glimpse that burning corpse within the flames of the makeshift pyre. Her expression is a conflicting mixture of shock and intrigue. The inescapable smell of death hits her all at once in the next moment, making her double over and retch suddenly. She manages to keep anything from coming up, thankfully. Anyone seeing it could probably guess that she's not experienced with dead bodies though. She straightens back up, shaking her head when Bennie mentions going for help. "I think we all know it's too late for that. Hell of a party, I guess." A little morbid but everyone has their way of coping with horrific sights.

When they get closer, it's obvious that there are arms, splayed out, and a torso, but...there is a stump where the head should be. Instead of a head, there is something burning so hot and so deep that the flame is blue. The tide is coming in and is already starting to lick at the edge of the fire.

It's Gray Harbor - it's not very big. Which means after Byron does manage to make the call, it won't be long before there's the sound of sirens on the horizon. They will however, have a few minutes alone with the horrendous sight.

Bennie's eyes pinched closed, her face canting away from the heat. "Gunner, heal!" She snaps, and the dog obeys - a benefit of being trained by a former marine. He pads back and sits at her feet, leaning against her legs as if to supply support to Bennie's suddenly weak knees. "Deffo too late. Uhm.." She snaps, gesturing towards Renata without really looking at her. "Sorry, I don't know your name. I'm Bennie, but. All that later. Uh, guys. Try to retrace your own steps backwards if you can. Don't touch anything...oh god...we have to try and preserve the scene. They're going to need our shoes..." Her brain is trying to work, but this is a whole lot different they playing investigator with Alexander for fun, and then being right in the thick of things. Get your shit together girl.

She has the presence of mind to pull out her phone and start snapping - GUH - pictures, before the tide can wash away all the evidence. It's as she's looking at the live image on her phone she spots something on the far side of the flames. "Guys! I think there might be written in the sand!" Which means all her sense at preserving the scene is dashed away as she rushes that way to try and snap a photo of whatever that may be before the tide claims it.

Byron's already on the phone with the authorities, though his too dark eyes continue to linger on that corpse. It really was if he were watching himself burn right then and there. The location of the bonfire is given and he's been informed that a police unit, an ambulance and a firetruck was on its way. "They're coming."

When he's able to tear his attention away from the fiery remains, he immediately retraces his steps (as per Bennie's suggestion) to stare down at the gas can. Rather than reaching out to touch it physically, he simply reaches out with his mind in the hopes of learning more about either whoever did this or just to get an idea of what the fuck happened to this sorry joe. What he gets is an incredibly strong emotion, but surprisingly, it's not one that stirs up intense panic within him. He more than likely isn't seeing anything from the eyes of the victim. There's a long moment where he's standing there in a daze, like someone day dreaming. There's even this look of determination that comes over his features.

It's Bennie's voice that breaks him from this trance and he blinks twice to awaken from it. "Writing?" As he asks this, he sorting out the information that he'd gathered, taking careful steps to approach the EMT, former waitress turned Bar owner, to get a better look at what she's seeing, but by then it's probably too late!

"A death on the beach? I've heard that before..." Renata murmurs as she fishes her phone out of her jeans pocket. Bennie's movement to take pictures, while there was still something to capture, seems to have pushed her into action. She takes a moment to brace herself before leveling her phone at the burning corpse. The stench of gasoline and burning flesh is still affecting her but she pushes past it to document the remains. She takes pictures of the body and surrounding area from different angles, zooming in as best she can on where its missing head should be.

Renata pauses as she notices Byron standing off to the side in a seeming daze. He seems to come out of it just as she's about to say something, however. "Huh?" She turns her attention to Bennie and makes her way over to see what the other woman has found.

It's a good thing that Bennie legs it around the fire because the water is already lapping at the edge of the text. It looks like it was scraped into the wet sand with a stick. It's a phrase writ large with confident strokes and triangles to create the script.

Already, as sirens approach, the waves lap at the base of the bonfire, sending up salty steam and flickering the flames. Bennie has to jump out of the way as one higher wave than the others slides up the sand.

Soon, there are firetruck headlights pointed down at the scene, flooding the area in light beyond what the fire shows. There is an obvious drag mark through the sand from off to a small footpath that leads up to the road. It's on a dark corner, along an access road that only leads to a few private driveways. In the headlight's glow, there's evidence that the fire pit might have been previously used. There's overturned logs used as chairs and beer cans scattered around.

First responders move down to the beach, followed quickly by police.

The flash on Bennie's phone camera goes off again, taking a picture of the confusing lettering that she doesn't recognize. "I can't read it!" She tells the others, giving a little yelp as she dances away from the water as it threatens to engulf her ankles. "It's some..weird...language?" Her first thought leaps to Aliens! But at least she doesn't voice that idiocy out loud. There's little more that she can do, until she learns to control the tides, so she starts slogging back to the others on her original path as best she can.

Renata was an outsider here, so Byron is cautious about what he says in the presence of strangers. However, when he looks, he does see the way she glows, so who knows how knowledgeable the woman is about the weirdness in this small town. It's not something that he'd bring up to a Hilton anyway, so he's cautious with what he says here too, because if the Hiltons were interested in Gray Harbor, he didn't want to chase that money away.

He knows this isn't the first murder around town, nor is it the first burning. Lots of things burned lately. Some game shop. HIS CAR.

"Whoever did this." He exhales heavily through his nostrils, "From what I can see, it was meticulous work. The care that went into it." As he didn't have time to read the writing before it was swallowed up by the sea, he'll trust Bennie with the details, though will lend a hand to her in the case that she's swallowed up as well, "Careful there. So it was written in a weird language? A foreign language? Or something alien?" He brings up aliens up, but he doesn't mean extraterrestrials. Just weird!

Renata nods in understanding when Bennie tells them it's unreadable, looking a bit disappointed. "It's good you caught it in time to get a picture anyway." The sound of sirens approaching causes her shoulders to visibly tense and she raises her head in their direction. She takes a few steps back from the bonfire, seemingly moving out of the way so trained professionals can get to it. Anyone paying attention would be able to tell that she doesn't want to be here right now. Her curiosity at what Bennie saw gets her to follow up on Byron's questioning. "Yes, was there anything that seemed familiar about it? The water could've made it hard to read but maybe the camera flash helped."

Before long, the beach is swarming with cops and first responders. By the time everyone has sorted out what's happened, the scene is in ankle-deep water and the fire is losing integrity. None of them get to see what happens when a bonfire with a human body in it gets swamped by the waves (probably a good thing.)

They're led up off the beach and they'll have to give up their clothing (for potential trace evidence) and make a statement before they're allowed to go. They're asked for any photos of the scene, but it's purely cooperation as they don't (yet) have a warrant. All in all, it's a trying few hours, and they aren't given any other time pre-statement to discuss what they saw. Nothing to stop them comparing notes after the fact, but there is no time to decide what to potentially leave out of their statements.

Bennie gratefully takes Byron's hand, curling up next to his side as a person who has zero sense of a personal bubble. She's already showing him the photo of the writing, "Like..with weird triangles?" The blonde offers them both, then turns her phone so that Renata can take a gander and offer any insights she might have. Then as a precaution she's shooting the photos off to Alexander, knowing she'll have at least give a copy to the authorities.

A weary smile is offered to the familiar faces of her coworker first responders, "Well, let's get this over with. Gunner! Heal." And then she's walking off with her own minder to relinquish her clothing, photos and statement.

Byron has nothing to hide. Well, at least where mundane police questioning is involved. So he takes the inquiries and the like in stride. He's used to it by now due to high death and strange happenings rate that occurs in this damned down. To him, what Bennie had shown him looked like weird drawings, nothing more. "You could speak to Isabella about it. I mean, if it's not gibberish, the archeologist might know?"

At the end of the day and after telling Lilith that he's running late, which probably freaked the hell out of her, he finally catches up with the others as the collect their things. He eyes Renata curiously, "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name." Though he knows she's a Hilton. "I'm Byron Thorne, owner of the Bayside Apartments. And I have stakes in the casino."

(TXT to Alexander Isabella) Bennie : Hey guys, I send some crime scene photos to Alexander. Caution: murder pyre. But there was this strange writing in the sand ::image:: If anyone can figure out weird writing, it's y'all!

(TXT to Alexander Bennie) Isabella : I'll squint at the weird writing. Thanks, Bennie.

Renata handles her processing as well as can be expected for someone who witnessed such a grisly scene. She's uncomfortable but not in any way that's out of the ordinary for a civilian that's been brought in for the first time. It's easy to chalk it up to shock. She's almost finished gathering her things, doing so a bit hurriedly when Byron addresses her. "Oh, it's Renata. I'm sorry we're meeting under these circumstances, Mr. Thorne." No last name is given in her frazzled state but everyone knows she's a Hilton anyway! "I'm the new owner of the Sea View Suites. I bought it just a few weeks ago. This is quite a town you've got here."

(TXT to Bennie Isabella) Alexander : Cuneiform? And a pyre? Fantastic. Fire makes sense.

"I am...on it." Bennie says to Byron's suggestion, thumbing off the couple of images of the strange writing to Isabella and Alexander, thankfully excluding any with a headless body being burned to a crisp. "There!" Gunner is now naked, sans vest, and he can't stop shaking his coat at the freedom. Bennie, however, is donning one of those dark blue paper onesies with the plastic buttons. "There would look much better with yellow duckies or something." She comments off handedly, plucking at the scratchy material. "And they totally need pockets. Oh, can I get your number, Renata? We should totes exchange in case we remember anything. Or need to get drunk. Oh! I sort of own a bar now, so I can get you drunk! But right now, I need to...not have sandpaper and possible paper cuts so close to my girlie bits."

Once introductions are names and if their hands aren't too full, Byron reaches out to formally shake Renata Hilton's hand. "I can't wait to see what you do with the place. You know, we're having a festival come up around Halloween. I'll give you more information about it later. You should have an influx of guests during that time." Then before the night is over numbers are exchanged, business cards handed off and Byron Thorne is sure to meet up with these fine folk again, especially since they were all witness to a crime.