Gunk got as close as he dared to the remains of the body as he examined the cuts that had turned a man in a snakeskin jacket into mere meaty chunks. He obviously couldn’t touch anything, this was a murder scene and the police would need to go over it in pristine condition. They still had time to kill as they waited for Barrier and Charon though, so he used the wait to try and figure out what had cause the slices. Every cut was clean, almost inhumanly so, creating a perfect separation from the other pieces of the body. Something was off, however, and it didn’t take long to figure out what. There was almost no blood around the body, or sprayed along the alley walls. Craning his neck to examine a stump, Gunk caught the slight scent of seared meat. Strange. The body didn’t show many telltale signs of being burned, but the wounds had been cauterized as they were made. Not perfectly, however. A few pieces were still dripping, meaning the cut-and-sear technique probably required some manner of focus or concentration. If nothing else, the lack of blood did explain why it was so easy to hide the murders. No blood meant that once the remains were tossed, there wasn’t a crime scene for people to stumble across.
Finally standing back to full height, Gunk stretched his back and noticed Bayou watching him with a curious look. “Sorry, did I get too close?”
“No, I’d have stopped you if that were the case. I’m more surprised that you were able to get so near a fresh corpse without any ill-effect. Truthfully I was expecting you to come up after a few seconds, green in the face and looking for a trash can.”
“Nah, I’ve seen much worse than this.” Gunk paused, realizing how that sort of statement sounded without context, and hurried to clarify. “Pretty much everyone in my family is a doctor of some sort. I spent my childhood getting groomed for that career, going off to special classes and camps to learn the trade. Even shadowed my dad for the summer after freshman year, when he was still trying to talk me into giving up this Hero thing and taking on the family trade.”
“Seems like an easier path that training to be a Hero,” Bayou said.
That part was hard to argue with, so Gunk didn’t bother trying. “I’m sure it would have been. But medicine can only do so much, it’s harder to save someone once they’re already hurt. I decided I’d rather be on the proactive side, keeping them from ever needing a doctor in the first place. And honestly, I don’t know if I can handle the sense of helplessness a doctor feels when there’s nothing they can do to save a patient. At least here, there’s always another punch to throw.”
The mood had grown quickly somber, and Gunk realized he’d opened up perhaps a bit too much in response to a simple remark. It was habit with Bayou, when dealing with his mentor he made it policy to be as forthcoming as possible, but this probably wasn’t the right time or place for that kind of discussion. Luckily, Barrier and Charon chose that moment to jog into view from another alley, dressed in full costume and both properly shielded.
“You didn’t chase our killer?” Charon asked, barely stopping before she started her probe.
“We don’t know which way the murderer went, or their capabilities, or whether they were leading us into a trap. So no, shockingly we didn’t charge blindly off leaving a crime scene open to tampering.” Bayou didn’t linger on Charon long, his words had said enough. Instead, he turned to Gunk. “And while we waited for the police to arrive, it seems Gunk has figured out something interesting. Judging from the faces he made while studying the corpse, anyway.”
Barrier and Charon both looked to the ground, where the body lingered. With a quick hop, Barrier jumped a few feet away, while Charon seemed undisturbed by the sight. Instead, she hunkered down and got slightly closer, keeping the same safe distance that Gunk had.
“Huh. That’s weird. I know a thing or two about dismemberment and there should be more blood. A lot more blood.”
“If you look at the stumps and take a sniff, you’ll see some signs of cauterization,” Gunk told her. “My best guess is that we’re dealing with a Super who has some manner of heat based abilities. They could be using them to turn a normal blade into a burning weapon, or creating a weapon out of fire itself, or some other method we haven’t considered. There’s not enough to go on yet for anything conclusive, but those wounds definitely point to some kind of heat being in play.”
“What if it’s a tech-Super who built a weapon?” Barrier asked. “Wouldn’t that account for the cauterized cuts?”
Gunk shook his head. “The inconsistencies on some cuts make it unlikely. If this were a tool that a tech-Super built, I’d expect it to work the same during the whole process, especially after they’ve had time to fine-tune it over so many kills already. The fact that some spots didn’t sear speaks to an element of concentration. Basically: tools function the same over repeated use, but a human element has the potential for more mistakes. This is all conjecture; of course, it could be something totally out of left field. Right now all we can do is examine the evidence and play the odds.”
“That is very astute, Gunk. Well-reasoned indeed.” Bayou walked over and hunkered down next to them, doing an examination of his own. From some distance, they could dimly hear the sounds of sirens approaching. It wouldn’t be long now before the police arrived to take over, freeing the Heroes up for whatever next step Bayou had in mind. “You missed one thing though.”
Hefting himself up, Bayou walked over to a wall in the alley and pointed to a small section of brick. Everyone clustered near him, straining to get a view. It took a few seconds, but eventually they could see what he was pointed at. It was tiny, less than half-an-inch at most, a small nick in the wall that had been melted.
“How hot does something have to be to melt brick like that?” Barrier asked.
“Very,” Gunk replied. “Very hot. Especially to do this sort of damage in the span of a moment, which is presumably how long it made contact with the wall. This looks like our killer stabbed the victim a little too hard and caught a bare tip of the wall. It’s odd though, anything this hot should have left more blatant burns on the wounds.”
Bayou pointed to the victim’s remains. “There are parts of the body we can’t see without moving it, more may get uncovered when the police arrive. However, between this and the inconsistent cauterization, we can safely conclude that the Super in question is using a method that swings wildly in temperature over short amounts of time.”
“Cool,” Charon said. “So what does that tell us?”
“On its own, very little,” Bayou replied. “But now that we know one of our killer’s hunting grounds, we can start setting up surveillance. And thanks to this crime scene, we now know that our top priority should be looking for sudden, unexplained thermal spikes. Whatever tool they are using to make these kills, it should stand out like a beacon when in use. This, my interns, is the first step toward capturing our rogue Super. And we found it by patiently waiting and watching, rather than storming onto a scene.”
Leaning over slightly, Barrier whispered in Gunk’s ear. “I think I’m starting to see the appeal of Subtlety.”