The Heroes of Little Springs

Luckily for the Crusader, the computer did not require any sort of password. Or rather, whoever had been on the computer last never properly logged off, leaving their passwords exposed to anyone who wanted or needed the information.

The information this computer provided was immense and would open so many doors for anyone who knew how to work the filing system properly. People were categorized by name, case name, felonies, year of case, etc. It was as if it were a library for those who died and those who committed a variety of crimes.

There was a number of information not only on Caroline Keen but the remaining two victims as well. They were all under the file designated for the Spring Lakes Park murders.

Caroline Keen was the daughter of Ben and Helena Keen. She had no siblings and her uncle Roy O'Neill lived in the area. Ben, Helena, and Caroline lived in the borough where the park was located. She had her own apartment just a few blocks away from it. Her uncle lived in an apartment in the heart of the city.

It was fairly obvious that Caroline had met her current boyfriend through her uncle's company and that her uncle and she must have been very close. Her boyfriend possessed an alibi of working late in the office during the night of her disappearance. Numerous fellow workers claimed to have seen him. Caroline had visited the office at around noon to supposedly stop by and say 'Hi' to both her boyfriend and uncle.

There was the same information regarding the crime scene, the same evidence. However, the pictures were a bit more clearer as one could easily zoom into the photo rather than looking at the rather small ones provided in the print version. The footprints in question appeared to be rather large.

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Elsewhere, Quiver quickly explored the park, heading for the wooded areas. There were not many of these. Still, she doubted the banshee would remain in the park. It didn't seem to want to anymore. Her only hope and the thing she was counting on was perhaps the banshee wanted to guarantee itself a killing before potentially wiping away the threats. And the best place to accomplish this would be in the park.

But Quiver didn't even think the banshee saw them as a threat. A nuisance perhaps but not a threat. And it definitely wasn't interested in Quiver.

Quiver had no idea how the Crusader had experienced his encounters with the banshee. But based on what she had seen, she had a couple of theories. But she couldn't be certain of any of those theories without the information from the Crusader. She was certain the banshee was targeting men for a reason now. She was certain she recalled the woman was the first recorded victim. Perhaps the banshee had seen what had happened to her. Perhaps she was her. Or perhaps it was as the Crusader said and this super villain was using the image and attached to this case for some reason.

Her temple felt as though it were about to explode. This entire case felt incredibly hopeless. And this little 'team' was going nowhere. Honestly, she felt as though they hadn't accomplished anything. Not a damn thing. If Jet had been here, they would have figured this out by now. She was certain of it. Because even when they had been separated, they still managed to defeat a Gorgon and clones of themselves. This would have been a walk in the park.

Quiver felt her grip on the bag of lead tighten. Placing a hand just above her brows, her mask came off. It fell to the ground, lying in the snow. She didn't pick it up.

For a moment, she thought about quitting. Let this new hero take up the reigns. And just go back to her safe little town and never come back to Little Springs.

Suddenly, Quiver caught a glimpse of the silvery figure. It was merely out of the corner of her eye. But it was enough for her to spot it. Her heart jumped. Good, it was still here. Quickly, Quiver picked up her mask and placed it back on. It was a bit wet but it would have to do. Slowly, she began to pursue her target.

But the silvery figure was gone. Quiver told herself not to panic. This was a good thing. She was here and she was hopefully sticking around.

There was so much information, Crusader didn't even know where to start. It wouldn't be too long until the power was restored and leaving would be that much more difficult. However an idea occurred to him. Hoping this would cut down the time, he quickly went to the system's tab, under search files and programs.

Quickly he typed in Caroline Keen, and several files and folders opened, but the most promising was one labeled Spring Lakes Park murders. That had to be it, the date it was last opened and saved was earlier today. Opening up several files, they illuminated brightly, especially in the slightly dim room.

With even more information available, Crusader quickly took out his paper and pencil again. He jotted down notes of names, especially new ones like her parents, addresses which led to her old home and her uncle's. Although he was sure that because she was single and lived alone, no one would be there, but there might be clues nonetheless. Her uncle was a different story.

Even more so because the enhanced pictures made the footprints even more visible. They were large, larger then any shoes a female would wear. She was last seen with her Uncle and her boyfriend wasn't out of the question either. However, he didn't know anything about this 'boyfriend', not even an address to go by. But one person did, her uncle.

With that, he closed all the documents, but kept the computer logged in, the way he had found it. And with that he slipped out of the police department, heading towards the address of Caroline Keen's home and her Uncle's.

Finally at her limit, the Lieutenant shut the folders on her desk containing the files related to her case. Slowly, she managed to get up, trudging back to the filing cabinet room.

She thought perhaps her tiredness must have been playing tricks on her for she could have sworn she saw someone leaving. But before she even had time to register who or what it was, it vanished. Shrugging it off, she continued to the filing cabinet room where she placed the files in their proper place before closing it.

Caroline Keen's apartment was still in tact luckily. It was eerily quiet, clearly showing signs of no one living there for weeks. Everything was left untouched save for the dust that had no doubt collected around the things. On the bookshelf which was built into the wall, there was a series of pictures depicting Caroline and her friends, relatives, etc.

An apartment reveals many things about a person including whatever secrets they may have possessed or discovered along the way. Caroline Keen's apartment was no different. If one knew where to look, such secrets may be revealed.

Finally arriving at Caroline Keen's apartment building, and entering the floor level, he twisted the door knob. Of course it was locked, but he figured it was worth a try. He wasn't so concerned about any evidence he may leave behind, like he was in the police department, for very obvious reasons.

Unsheathing his built in blade, he placed the sharp point at the lock's entrance, and began to twist it delicately and forcefully at times. Eventually it unlocked, and he slowly opened the door, which creaked. It was quiet and slightly dusty, which was to be expected.

He immediately went for the bookshelf, as he had no clues as to where to go. There were some useless books, novels, and the such, but there were also picture albums. They seemed to depict Caroline with her family, friends, and significant others, through the different years and places they had went.

After he had finished inspecting these pictures, he closed the album gently, placing it back onto the shelf where it rested before. He slowly made his way into her small kitchen. If one was living alone as it indicated, they needed only enough food for themselves, as well as enough dishes.

Caroline's death was unexpected, so it was likely that there would still be dirty dishes, which were either thrown in the sink or dishwasher. If there were too many for one person, then it meant someone else lived with her or frequently met. While this seemed to be a trivial idea and clue, if it was true, it was at least a start.

There were very few dishes in the sink if any at all. Just a whine glass. The rest had been cleaned and put away safely. As for food, there appeared to be enough for merely one person. Perhaps there was enough for an occasional visitor but for the most part the cupboards were bare.

However, there could also have been food missing due to the fact it eventually went spoiled. Such things such as milk, cheese, etc. were missing from the refrigerator. But the food that would last a while remained and suggested only one person lived there.

While the kitchen, it's wares, and food proved that she did indeed live alone, it was not a complete waste. Closing the cabinets, there were still plenty of more rooms and places to inspect.

There was still her living room, bedroom, bathroom, and small laundry room. The laundry room was simply just a tight spaced closet, added in the apartments small hall, which connected each room together.

The living room would probably prove to be the least informative, so Crusader chose to inspect Caroline's bedroom and bathroom first and in that order. While the bathroom might have information on her hygiene, her health, especially if she had a medicine cabinet, and other odd end facts, her bedroom would probably prove more useful and so he went towards that room first.

Like the rest of the house, her room was untouched for the most part. Of course, the police had inspected this area thoroughly so some thing may had been missing. But luckily for the Crusader, this was not necessarily the case. In a way, the fact that this case had ultimately been labeled a serial killer case had left a decent amount of the room in tact.

One such item (an item that no doubt the inspectors checked on a regular basis) was her planner which sat on a nightstand by her bed. Within this planner was a list of things she had planned to do everyday. On the date of her disappearance, it was a simple day and had the noon visit with her uncle and boyfriend chronicled. However, if one were to look at some of the previous dates, they would notice not only her daily schedule, possible appointments, etc. but also a series of times that seemed to be separated from the rest.

These times varied but all occurred on a Wednesday (the same day she had disappeared) as well as all starting at 9 am. Each designated time ended differently but was always around twelve midnight to three in the morning.

On the day she went missing there was a 9 am written on the bottom the same as the rest. But the ending time had not yet been filled.

This area of her apartment, her room, wasn't untouched by the skilled eyes of the detectives either. Of course that was to be expected. If the person on the job was to be called a professional, they would had swept through every room, inspecting every trivial thing.

However he was fortunate enough that the investigation group had left Caroline's planner in her apartment. There might had been a lot of evidence bagged and over at the police department, now that he thought about it. This planner was not one of them though.

Skimming through the pages, he noticed she kept a list of everything she had done or planned to be done. It was a good thing she was so organized, as it left many clues. Of course the authorities probably had figured this out as well, he had one connection they didn't, the Banshee. Whichever role it played, he wasn't certain yet, and continued to dig further.

He took notice of the date of her disappearance, which was also labeled as a visit for her uncle and boyfriend. However he already had found this information at the police department, only in a different form here.

There were also a bunch of other dates, already passed, which highlighted her daily activities and chores. Most of them seemed to be useless, but there seemed to be a peculiar pattern. It seemed she had a set date, Wednesday, for a list of separated times.

He wasn't sure what to make of Caroline Keen, but from what he gathered before, she didn't seem to be the type to be out at such an late hour. And why the middle of the week and the same day?

Perhaps the Uncle would know more about this. It didn't hurt to drop in unannounced. While her parent's might know her just as well, the Uncle seemed to be the one she was visiting on Wednesdays.

Within the park just on the outskirts of the wooded area was a young man and woman. Anyone that happened to watch their demeanor would know that these two knew they were not supposed to be in the woods or park. The two stumbled as they walked, the young man more so than the woman. A black object swung from the woman's neck as she walked.

Giggling and laughing followed by quickly "shhing" one another, the teenagers circled whatever part of the wooded area they could. They certainly knew of the dangers the wooded area provided though they had every intention of going in. Still, they were cautious.

The girl was taking time to fumble with the black thing that hung around her neck. A clicking noise followed by a bright flash filled the area. There were a few more of these as she rapidly snapped photos of the area. The boy told her to stop as whatever was causing the recent string of murders would never go near them if they were flashing photographs.

Just as the boy was trying to take the camera away, a low wailing filled the area. Having never heard this type of noise, the two brushed it off as being the wind.

There was then a noise coming from the woods. Together, the two jumped, their eyes becoming glued to that area. Eventually, a young woman came out. Although, she was no ordinary young woman.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as she stepped towards them.

"We were just," the boy began, his words a bit slurred as he spoke. He paused as if he couldn't think about what to say. However, his mouth suddenly hung open, his eyes widening. Without waiting for further reactions, Quiver quickly turned around, aiming her arrow. She only needed a glimpse of silver to give her a reason to fire. The banshee wailed as the arrow pierced her. The two teenagers did not need to be told that they needed to leave. Still stumbling, they ran as fast as they could. Despite its gushing wounds, the banshee went to rush past Quiver and head towards the boy. But Quiver threw something in her face. It was a bit of the shredded lead the Crusader had given her. The banshee floated back, her eyes tearing blood. Quiver didn't hesitate: she fired another arrow.

But the banshee was already hurrying back towards the safety of her forest. Still, Quiver pursued.

The street where Caroline's uncle lived was a rather luxurious one. In fact, it was on the outskirts of the richest side of town. It was still an apartment that did not require the Crusader to pass a doorman but it did possess an intercom system in order to reach the individual tenants.

The building was clearly a historical one of some sort as it was made completely out of brick with ivy growing along the sides. It looked rather odd in the middle of such a big city and with the tallest buildings a mere few blocks away. But there it was, nestled tightly almost to the point where it was hidden from the rest of the world.

Crusader was slightly surprised by the different level of status of Caroline Keen and her uncle. It only raised more suspicion, as he inspected the high luxurious life he seemed to have, or at least a better one then his niece.

Checking the address again, just to be sure he was at the right place, he stared at the apartment and intercom system. There was also a panel, listing the residents, which he followed closely with his finger. Pinpointing the uncle's room, he then now needed a way to bypass the locked door. Breaking into an apartment like Keen's was easy, but this one might prove more difficult for obvious reasons. He also found it odd that it was positioned out of place, as it to seclude itself from the daily lives of Little Springs.

He jiggled the apartment's entrance, but it was locked. He would need someone to buzz him in and his only bet was Keen's Uncle. Hitting the intercom button for him, he awaited a reply.

Considering the hour it was, there were a few minutes of silence as if anyone was home was no doubt startled, thinking over who it could be and if they were worth the time, followed by stumbling about to answer it.

Eventually, a click was heard following by the ambiance of the intercom being turned on.

"Yeah? Who is this?" a tired and muffled voice inquired on the other end.

At first, Crusader didn't respond. Not because he didn't want to, wasn't sure of what to say, or anything of that such. After a short pause, he responded, "O’Neil, I've come, in behalf of your niece."

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" the voice on the other end replied, a hint of disgust present in his voice. "Whoever you are, beat it or I'll call the police."

"I'll cut to the chase." Crusader replied. "Keen went missing and was found dead. The very same day and hours that you and her frequently visited." He explained, before adding. "We have evidence of an unlawful tenant in her residency. But how can that be, when papers claim her living alone." He asked.

"Either you tell me what you know or we'll hand it over to the police, and you can deal with them." Crusader finished.

"I've already talked to the police," the voice grumbled and it was clear he was getting flustered. Not so much because of what he may or may not be being accused of but simply because so much information was suddenly being thrown at him. "Who the hell are you?"

In one of the windows, the curtains were currently being shuffled. A heavy-set man in an undershirt poked his head and upper torso out from behind the curtain. He squinted as he tried to make out the figure standing by his intercom. Judging from his posture and his constant shifting, he had no idea who he was looking at.

Crusader didn't bother replying to the grumpy tone of O'Neil, as it would not help him with his task in the least. He however, did reply once again, after he asked about his identity. "We have information that the police overlooked. Now tell us what we want to know."

However if one was to be watchful of the intercom and entrance, they would realize that no one was present, even as they spoke through it. "Or I can be your worst nightmare." Crusader's voice remarked, finally revealing himself.

From within O'Neil's apartment room, where the the window was, he stood. Holding onto the busted and ripped out intercom, he kept his thumb pressed on the button, until he was finished. When his words came through, he dropped the piece onto the floor.

Realizing that there was no one there, the man's heart leaped. He spun around only to find the mysterious man standing in his apartment.

O'Neill backed away, now fearing for his life as the stranger approached him.

"Okay, listen pal, I'll tell you whatever you want." He was sweating now and continued to back away from the strange man in his apartment.

"Good." Crusader remarked. "You're dear niece had just been murdered, you'd think you'd be a little more cooperative." He added, before extending his arm out to the man, but just far away enough to be feet away from even grasping at them. "Stay, I'm not here to hurt you. I just want the truth."

O'Neill was starting to relax but he could not help but to have a hurt look on his face at the mention of his niece.

"Well, I'm not sure how helpful I can be. She came by around twelve--lunchtime--just to say hello like she sometimes does...that's all I know. That's the last time I saw her." He seemed trouble as he spoke as if bringing it back up again was difficult.

"We know that she met you regularly. What are you holding from us?" Crusader replied a little more irritatingly. "What did she say to you? The smallest details can help."

"Look, that's all I know. She came by to say hello and she said 'hi' to Bobby and that was that. I don't know anything else." He was on guard due to the Crusader's irritability but he was also slightly annoyed as well.

"Thank you, you've been a big help." Crusader replied, somewhat bitterly, although this was far from the truth. At least he could safely say that Caroline Keen's death wasn't triggered in the least by her Uncle O'Neil.

Without a word or moments notice, he was already gone, slipping through the shadows, and no doubt heading to wherever Quiver was at the moment. If she was keeping watch of the Banshee like he assumed she was, she was most likely still in the park and that's where he started his search.

Within the park, in the woods, Quiver had been pursuing the banshee. She fired arrow after arrow, not allowing the thing to get out of her sight. And clearly, the banshee was having difficulty completely disappearing as the Crusader had predicted.

However, the banshee had recently changed its strategy. Due to Quiver's aggressive attacks, she was now charging her whenever possible. And the constant screaming, though no longer deadly due to her ear muffs, were beginning to take a toll on Quiver. It was as if there was a constant aching feeling wreaking all over her body and a pulsating sensation filling her ears.

The banshee was currently screaming at her. She was trying to aim an arrow towards the creature but her hands were shaking a bit and her focus was difficult to maintain. The arrow went whizzing by but missed.

Within the shadows, a long stretching rope whirled out. On the end, a claw opened, before lashing and wrapping onto the Banshee, from their back. With a forceful tug of the rope, and the iron hook gnawing on the Banshee, Crusader assumed a position, where he could forcefully restraining the Banshee from easily moving forward.

However, that didn't prove easy, as his weight was dragged forward, grinding against the park's dirt path. He hoped that Quiver would use this time to either escape, dodge, or attack the entity in some way.