::The scent of death and formaldehyde clung like an aroma of sweetness in the air. The smell of ham and mayo lingered underneath it all. A slop of grease on white bread. Cypress turned to watch her boss, and co-worker take another bite of that sandwich. The look he gave her was one that seemed he was truly enjoying the sandwich. Was it for her or did he really like eating those messy things? The pure rapture on his face, said he did. She turned away, a shake of her head, with a shadow of her normal smile rested on her lips.

One arm was elbow deep in a body. The heart slipping past her fingertips, as she was reaching further for something. There was something not right. Sphinx seemed to be testing her. Long lashes closed, as she searched. Once her fingers within the gloves took hold of it, she gave a satisfied smirk. It was a hard piece of metal. Metal that would have burned her fingers had she not been wearing those gloves. Silver. A silver bullet held between blood soaked gloved fingertips. A silver bullet seemed a little odd for a human body. It was almost like over kill. A deep breath against the neck of that body said it had been beast, not fully human. The flavor, Cypress didn't know, and it was to late to ask. The bullet hit the pan, making the metal to metal sound. They were taking in bodies from the neighboring towns, as well as Boston. Salem's murdering status had dropped since the death of the Vampire who had set her victims like dolls.

The sound of heels, tip tapping against the linoleum floor of the coroners office. A woman came to the door, then walked over to Sphinx's desk, one hand on his desk the other behind her, letting him peek into the gape of her blouse if he wished to. Lips moved to whisper something to Sphinx, which Cypress clearly heard making no note of the talk. Golden, tall and handsome slipped from the woman's mouth. That made Cypress' head turn. Colorless hues staring straight at the woman.
Cypress gave the aura of danger. Dark red splashed across her gloves. Gloves as white as that moon-kissed skin. Hair set in long pigtails with the orangey-gold and green extensions, set in that ink black hair. Full lips painted in a red that could only be called Bleed Me Dry. Jumper hid most of the custom transformed uniform. A skirt cut three inches from plump round cheeks, with a sailor uniform top, and it's matching red tie. The only things giving hit of what lay underneath of the long smock, was the knee high scrunched socks, and the penny loafer mock platforms in black.

Sphinx turned his eyes to her. To the look on her face, or lack at times. Her nose took in the scent, Magnolias. Magnolias with maple covered moss. Brady. Her heart speed, pulse jumping, franticly. Lashes dropped, giving bedroom eyes. It looked completely wrong in that atmosphere. Her hand still on the body, gloves stained red, with spots on her smock. The look on her face would have been reserved for a bedroom, for the man whose image danced in her mind. His blond hair. His well defined chest, skin so perfectly blessed by the sun's rays. Brady; her Golden Cat.

"Let him pass."

Were the words. No please, or thank yous. Cypress did not pretend what she was or wasn't. The room was small enough for her to pretend to hear the whispering. Yet, she made no excuse that she could over hear. The secretary could very well make her own assumptions from the look to the words. Cypress did not care. Her face was turned away again, back to the slab of meat, bones, muscles, and dried blood that was before her.::