Catching a Mythic

Warning: Alcohol Usage Mentioned

The slick, cold rain fell heavy on the New Dublin streets as Rayna accelerated through the allies and streets. The I.M.P finally had a lead for one of the worst nuisances from the Gateway Even. Satyr. These clever goats disguise themselves as humans, act like humans, and even try to live human lives. But they are not human. They are Mythics. And Mythics shouldn't exist.

Rayna had never believed in magic. Growing up, she'd seen everyone in her small Irish hometown blindly follow superstitions and traditions, worshipping the People. Leaving them gifts and making their clothes. But they turned away when real people, their neighbors, needed places to stay or casseroles because their food checks were bouncing. They claimed it was their fault and would offend the People if they helped out mortals instead of them, fearing magical repercussions. "Magic" like that- it was barely shy of a cult. And she wasn't dumb enough to fall for that. So as soon as Rayna could, she packed up and left for the city.

Where magic didn't exist.

And for a while, everything was good. Rayna dedicated herself to training for the Police Academy and learning everything she could to disprove the People's existence. But, try as she might, the fairies, fae, and monsters she left behind in her mind followed her into the real world after a greedy winemaker cut down a sacred oak at Tara, planning to use it for some ridiculous barrel to infuse his booze or something.

But when the tree fell, a swirling portal opened in the stump and released all of the creatures Rayna thought were myths. They crawled into the cities, towns, and the world. They destroyed numerous urban areas, such as the old Dublin, and sealed off several countries. This became known as the Gateway Event, and it happened 6 years ago. Special Forces were formed in all countries to deal with the threat, but Ireland's most formidable force was created because the Emerald Isle was dubbed Ground Zero for the Gateway Event. Known as I.M.P, they specialize in tracking down the most chaotic creatures, now called Mythics.

And Rayna was one of the best up-and-comers the team had. So what if this tip was fake? Rayna NEEDED this. This was her chance to really prove herself. And as the streets got narrower and tighter, her heart beating faster and faster, she arrived at her destination. Parking her motorcycle underneath a dingy neon light, Rayna looked at the future crime scene. The Filthy Axe was dirty, old, and surprisingly, cozy. It felt like a slice of home. But Rayna knew that inside, maybe, it held the monster she was looking for. So she locked her bike, removed her helmet, and strode through the open doors.

As she walked in, the inside felt like the outside, except the interior was crowded with people of all shapes and sizes. Rayna brushed her red hair out of her eyes and headed to the bar. She knew by now to play it low-key. Being in plain clothes meant she was just a typical civilian, but people were paranoid. Which was good. Because that meant the monsters had fewer places to hide.

"Welcome to the Filthy Axe. My name's Darrek. What can I get you tonight?" said the bartender in a gruff voice. He was a large man whose very gaze screamed I.M.P Deeper. Instantly, she knew this was her tipper.

"Just a Guinness, please," she replied. Rayna had no plans to revel tonight. Alcohol could make or break a job, and success tonight was mandatory.

"Here you go. Anything else?" questioned Darrek as he slid the glass down the counter.

"None. Thanks." Rayna said. Darrek gave a grunt in response. As soon as he had turned to another man sitting idly at the bar, Rayna slipped an Ineffective into her liquor, rendering the alcohol useless. Now she could drink and not look suspicious without any senses dampening. From the corner of her eye, she caught movement behind her. A man about her age in a wheelchair was moving towards a table in the back, being pushed along by a willowy woman with long blond hair dripping down her waist. The arrival of the girl elected a few whistles from the drunken crowd.

"Hey, sweetheart, come oveerrr here?" an old man shouted from his stool near the door. But one glare from the guy and he shut up. The pair got to the table, and slowly, the typical noise returned to the Filthy Axe.

Rayna was suspicious of them. The blonde had the making of an Elf, and the male might be the one she was looking for. A wheelchair was an effective disguise for a Satyr, allowing him to hide his hooves.

"Do those two come here often?" she asked when Darrek came back around.

"Which ones?" he said as he cleaned a beer glass with a white cloth.

"The female and the male in the corner," Rayna answered, gesturing vaguely with her hand. "The ones who just arrived?

"Oh, you mean Juilie and Alex? Yeah, every Thursday." Darrek replied, placing the now-clean glass away. Rayna nodded and took another sip of her drink. To everyone around, she seemed calm and mellow. But inside, she was pumping her fist and dancing. Because Thursday was when the drones flew over this sector, scanning for mythic residue around 6 p.m. Which should be... now. And just on cue, a faint buzzing was heard as blue light washed over the streets.

The patrons continued talking, laughing, and drinking like nothing had happened except for the suspected

Satyr and Elf. They had frozen for just a second, a panicked expression on their faces, before melting back into normalcy. But one second was enough for Rayna to see. Slowly she got up from her barstool, leaving her helmet behind, and began to move toward her suspect's table. Round her, some diners cast suspicious glances before returning to whatever nonsense they were doing. The girl and boy chatted when Rayna placed her hand on the table.

"I.M.P. We're here to conduct a Mythic Residue Test," she said, flashing her badge. The two passed a quick glance between each other. It was apparent unspoken words passed between them.

"Okay, um, how does this work exactly?" The girl asked, standing up slowly. The boy wheeled himself away from the table, facing Rayna.

"It's simple. I just take out this-" Rayna said, holding up a scanner wand- "and wave it over you guys. Real simple, real quick. No problems whatsoever." Being calm was vital. Mythics could panic if cornered.

"Me first." the boy said suddenly. The girl whirled towards him, a shocked look in her eyes.

"Are you sure?" she asked, moving towards him. He nodded, then he looked at Rayna.

"Go ahead." Rayna stepped towards him and held out her wand. She clicked the button and swept it across his body. The rod began to buzz as the results came in. Satyr 1857. Slowly, she turned and waved the wand over the girl, who was now quivering. Her results read Elf 218.

Two Mythics.

One I.M.P.

Rayna subtly fished some detaining rope from her vest pocket. Then she noticed all the eyes on her. Every single customer was watching. There could be more Mythics hiding in the crowd. She needed to move fast.

Jumping onto the table, Rayna threw the rope over the Elf and shouted the trigger words. Instantly, it tightened, and she fell to the ground.

"Alex, RUN!" she screamed as her head hit the wooden floor and she passed out. Her hair fell to reveal perfectly pointed ears. The watchers gasped. The bartender ran over and flashed his Deeper badge. The Elf was captured.

The boy, who had previously been frozen with fear, abruptly began to move again. He sprang out of his chair and shed his disguise. Rayna slid towards him as he bolted for the door. The satyr, or Alex, was moving at impossible speeds as he began climbing the apartment complex wall across the street. Soon he reached the top and was gone. But Rayna wasn't giving up. So she hopped on her motorcycle and zoomed away into the foggy, wet, Dublin night.