Scy has been murdered by the Stalkers.
@Scytherwolf

After visiting the dark remnants of the Silver Candle Theater House, Scy had attempted to fly back to Benni’s farmstead…

…but she never made it… and she never came back that night…

Instead, her body had been found only a short distance north of the Baywill Museum and Gallery besides the dusty curved road. In the early hour of dawn, both Dantus and Yanza had been notified of the Yanmega’s dead corpse. When they found Scy’s body, they saw her wings had been ripped out and forcefully rammed down her throat, causing her to suffocate…

Yanza had looked the body over from different positions and angles to get the full assessment, taking notes on her small paper booklet as she made her observations. After having seen murders like this before, it seemed like she had grown rather desensitized to this.

“I didn’t know there was a Yanmega living in this town,” Yanza stated to Dantus as he levitated above the dusty street only a short distance away. “Does she look familiar to you, because this is the first time I’ve seen her before.”

Dantus was silent, looking toward the dragonfly’s now wingless dead body. The dragonfly’s mouth was stuffed full of her own wings, now as a hideous crumpled mass. He already knew this was the work of one of the Stalkers and he already knew their name. And he knew he didn’t even need to mention this to Yanza.

She had seen enough of this to know this as well…

“This was an outsider,” Dantus stated with cold confidence. “Nothing more.”

Yanza lightly nodded, having a hunch that had to be the case. The plump, toughened, no-nonsense Purugly made the assumption this Yanmega was probably a vandal or looter, but she knew she needed evidence to validate that and that was something not worth pursuing given what she and Dantus were already dealing with. And she also knew she didn’t care. The Yanmega was dead, so whatever her business was in Seabourne, that came to a screeching halt for good.

And she had seen this kind of murder signature before. Several times in fact. Razela the Pidgeot, Ezland the Crobat, and Cruben the Mothim… all killed this exact same way. Their wings ripped off, and their throats and mouths stuffed with their crumpled, bloody remnants of their own wings.

EXONULL… Yanza wrote down in her notebook. She knew whoever this was truly abhorred any Pokémon that could fly. All of them from the young and the old were ripped of their privilege and made to suffer and die for it. And this Yanmega was no exception, shown no mercy from the wrath of this Stalker.

“I think I realized…” Yanza muttered to Dantus, “…every one of them was still alive while their wings were being force-fed down their throat.”

Dantus nodded. He had observed this fact early on in the investigations. He didn’t hold it against Yanza for not immediately observing this, as these cases were highly unusual. But almost innately, as a ghost type and as a senior police officer, he was far more aware about the nature of what death truly looked like.

“Complete your observations and report and let’s go,” Dantus commanded. “There’s nothing more for us to do here.”




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