• Hello everybody! We have tons of new awards for the new year that can be requested through our Awards System thanks to Antifa Lockhart! Some are limited-time awards so go claim them before they are gone forever...


Fanfiction ► Paranormal Investigations Division [NYPID 66-6]

Not open for further replies.


Apr 21, 2005
Paranormal Investigations Division [NAPID 66-6]

First and foremost, don't let the title throw you. This fiction isn't what you think it is. It's a very intricate and different story. The basis of my creation of this story is something that hasn't really been done before. As such, all the characters have some extremely unique powers, the like of which I hope you've never seen before.

Second of all, I'll ask that if you read this fiction, you make a comment. I don't care as to the content of it...be it positive, negative, related or simply a 'good job'. In the past, as I'm sure you're all aware, I never finish my fictions, usually to my misgivings that nobody's actually reading them. If you guys comment, I know it's being read, and I have a reason to write more.

Edit: 22 views and three comments? Not everyone is commenting... :p

Operation Codename: White Christmas
Operation Summary: Investigation of the death of three NAPD officers by a means termed outside the jurisdiction of the police department.

Detective White frowned as the video began playing. On screen, a young man was walking into an alley. The view tilted wildly as the car followed him in, three officers inside. The youth stopped, the overpowering glare of the police headlights illuminating his face. He glanced for a second over his shoulder, at the dead, end, then back at the police car that had pulled into the alley after him, blocking off his only escape. Inside the car, the camera was jostled as the officers exited the car, leaving the doors open behind them.

“Nice night for a walk, kid!” the senior officer shouted into the gloomy alleyway, as the younger recruit in the car fumbled with the keys, switching off the engine, but leaving the headlights running. The cornered man looked hesitantly at the car for a moment, then at the two officers now flanking him.

“What’s that yev’e got in the bag there, mate?” the second officer asked, with a nod from his superior. They both drew their guns, pointing them at the ground, as they advanced.

“Actually, mate…that there’s be something along the lines of, Oh…forty thousand, one hundred eighty dollars, in cash, stolen from our local bank just now, eh?”

White shifted uncomfortably at this. The boy’s confidence was obvious. He didn’t care that he was facing down a pair of men with guns. To White, this was like reading the ending of a book first. He knew what would happen. He’d seen in begin to happen. Now, he just had to watch it as it happened.

The officers onscreen simply aimed their guns at the youth’s chest. He couldn’t have been a day older then twenty, head recently shaven, with prickles of a small beard down his chin. He wore no shirt, exposing a muscular chest, and a tattoo on his left shoulder of a wolf. A lit cigarette smoldered between his lips.

“You have the right to remain-“ the officer began, but the young man laughed, taking a deep draw from his cigarette, and gave him the finger. The senior reached to pull a pair of handcuffs from his belt, moving forwards towards the individual.

“Hey, son. If you were gonna rob a bank… “ The younger officer mused aloud, as his senior advanced: “Wouldn’t you have brought a getaway car?”

At this, the youth chuckled, looking down at the ground for a second. Taking another draw, he looked back up at the officer.

“I did…” he stated, and suddenly, the alleyway exploded with light, and a terrifying, deafening crash of metal on metal was heard. The light burst into static, and the group of men watching the recording burst into sound, all talking excitedly at once, chattering to one another. Detective White ignored the chatter, instead glancing towards the door as it opened.

“Shut up!” an authoritive voice demanded, and the room fell silent. A hard-faced man in a brown overcoat moved through the door, indicating the still-playing tape. With supernatural timing, the static faded back into a dark, damaged image. It looked as if the camera lay sideways. The top of the screen was now taken up by a bloody hand, which twitched gruesomely. Beyond that, part of the police car could be seen, flames licking at it. A second car lay further in the alley, one that hadn’t been there before, also totaled. There was definitely no room for a second car to have entered the alley…and the brick wall at it’s back was still intact. A dark shadow strode between the burning wrecks. There was a flash of the shirtless young man as the shadow flitted past the flames of the car towards the screen, raising a foot…and then, static.

“Now you see what we wanted you to see…” the middle-aged, overcoated man said, nodding at an aide, who switched the television behind him off. He stood at the forefront of a room of blue-clad police officers, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Detective White could feel the aura of this man…it was…fearful. This was not one you would want to cross.

“My name…” he said in a cold voice: “Is Detective Brown. You may call me Detective Brown. You, no doubt, have all been given your own names for this assignment. Welcome, gentlemen, to the paranormal investigation division.”

Target identification system
Target identified
_Name: Christopher Nomand
_Alias: Snowman
_Occupation: Unemployed
_Paranormal Assesment: Displays ability governing the spontaneous generation of automobiles and the control thereof.
_Paranormal Extrapolation: May be using dimensional pockets.

“My name…is Vincent Andrews. You can call me Vince…if you want.”
The hard stares of a room of adolescents met the soft, delicate voice of the young man who called himself Vincent. Tentatively, he stared back at the sea of indifference, his cold, light-blue eyes sweeping the room. He had medium-length hair, of a blueish-black, which fell to each side of his face, parted in the middle. He was somewhat tall…or would be; if he were not hunched over. His arms and legs were long, almost lanky. As did all the other students in the room, Vincent wore the school uniform, though with one major difference…Vincent, unlike the burnt, cut, twisted, knotted, dirty variants that covered the room, presented himself in immaculate condition, not a hair out of place. He held his arms close to his body, his legs bowed, almost as if to present the smallest possible target to an assailant.

Vincent stood silently for a moment, before bowing his head and walking slowly to a seat at the front of the room, directly in the middle. Throwing his schoolbag down beside the desk, he dropped neatly into his seat, ignoring the two empty desks beside him. Placing writing materials on the desk, he rolled his eyes as the class behind him burst into frantic laughter, much to the dismay of the teacher.

“Hey…Jessica? You believe this guy?” demanded Alan as he slid into the seat across the table from her with a grin, indicating Vincent, who sat alone at a table across the cafeteria, a textbook open beside him as he ate. The young girl grinned back, throwing a glance over her shoulder at him, before turning back to the group.
“Yeah…he’s a complete ‘tard, ya’know?” she laughed, with a smile that made Alan want to eat nails. That was what he loved so much about Jessica…there was just something about her, this aura, that just threw random feelings into your gut when you were nearby. Of course, he’d never told her…they’d been friends for almost six years now, and he wasn’t about to screw that up.

Jessica brushed a strand of pink hair out of her eyes, looking into Alan’s. She’d recently dyed her hair pink…after dying it blonde. The result was a multi-layer of regrowth that actually looked quite good.

Jessica was the type of girl that hated doing what her parents told her to do. If they asked he to do something, she’d do the opposite, simply to spite them. She was sixteen, dyed her hair, wore black, had her tongue pierced, and played guitar better then most of the school’s music teachers. Today, as usual at school, she wore the standard white shirt and gray skirt, but her skirt was several sizes too small, her shirt untucked and reaching almost to the hem of the skirt, and she wore a pair of steel-capped military boots instead of shoes.

"So ya' playing tonight?" Alan asked, changing the subject. Jessica nodded, bringing her attention back to him.
"Yeah...Damian asked me to, so hell if I'm not gonna'...not like I'm gettin' paid for it anyway, eh?" she mused. Damian was a friend of theirs...a guy on the school's footy team, and he was throwing a party that night for his girlfriend's birthday. Of course, knowing Damian, he'd end up in bed with two other girls by the end of the night, and so his soon-to-be-ex's enraged outburst was promising to be a lively feature. Jessica wondered what he'd already have there...she needed a place to set her guitar up, if she was going to play well.

Jessica's music seemed to hold a strange power to most. Indeed, every time Alan heard her play, it seemd as if an invisible hand was reaching into his chest and yanking his organs around. It didn't matter what she played...it just seemed to move people, all people, not just him. One day, he knew, she'd get a contract and end up all different sorts of famous, leaving her childhood friend all alone.

Still, he'd make the most of the time they had left.

The beat burst back into tune as Chris threw the car into a turn, dragging the tail around the corner, and came out heading directly for the bridge. The pure-white Holden Commadore purred brilliant beneath him as he put his foot down, roaring through a red light and onto the bridge itself. Behind him, two other cars skidded from the same alley he'd just escaped from. One pulled the turn almost as well as he had, but the other skidded out of control, across the road, narrowly avoiding falling beneath the front of an oncoming bus. The driver quickly recovered, throwing his vehicle into reverse, and revved it up, back in the race.

With a smirk, the young man turned the music up, watching as the other car drew slowly alongside him.

Suddenly, he jerked the wheel to the left, cutting across directly into the path of the other car. There was a screech of brakes, as he slew back onto his original path, letting the other burn past him, wheels spinning, in a cloud of smoke, before the tyres gripped the road, and Chris was past him and into the clear.

That was when he noticed the flashing red and blue lights on the opposite bank. Police! His eyes were already scanning the road ahead as he brought his attention back to the forefront...

No. They had blocked the other end of the bridge with cars, and he couldn't turn around here. There was nowhere for him to go...but Chris wasn't about to get caught. For a split second, he closed his eyes, concentrating.

Out of nowhere, a car suddenly smashed into the police roadblock from the other side, sending the central car into a spin, and taking out two officers. The car already knocked out of the way, a second interloper smashed it from the side, driving it backwards, and across to the edge of the bridge. Chris let out an animal laugh as the first car, leaping back into motion with a roar of the engine, smashed into the bonnet...and sent both itself, and the unfortunate police vehicle carrening into the river below, smashing into the icy water and throwing up a cloud of spray.

As the officers scrambled towards the edge the cars had vanished over, Chris roared through the gap in the roadblock, throwing his still-lit cigarette out the window into the second car as he passed. It took only a few moments before the smouldering ash reacted with the leaking petrol fumes...and a small explosion tore through the night, enveloping the entire roadblock in flames.
Last edited:


New member
Jul 26, 2005
Great Southern Land or Land Down Under
First to comment!

I like it, along with all the other fan-fics you've written Zets, however this is one of the first times I've commented. The start got me hooked instantly and makes you curious about the situation at hand. And the introduction of the characters was pretty good too. I wish this chapter went a bit longer, but that makes me want to keep reading. Keep it up and continue writing.

Good Job Zets. XD


hurr hurr hurr
Dec 17, 2003
In my castle, plotting your demise
I claim first post! *glares at Evarae* Yours does not exist <<

Moar win from Zetsumi? You have win all over the place. Whats more, its about the supernatural! You pleased me in more ways than one Zet =D (no innuendo!)


Mar 27, 2007

You once again pwn everything. This fanfiction is brilliant. It has me ensnared in the anticipation of another chapter. Your omnipotence about the stuff we want to read roxs. You happen to be my personal god. :D



Apr 21, 2005
I'll point out that I havn't yet even completed the first chapter. I added some more to the Alan x Jessica into scene, and another show from Chris. Oh yes, it's well over the top.

Chaotic Dreams

Returning Once Again...
Aug 5, 2005
Nicely done once again man. And since I know everyone's power already, and who you've based them off, I can't wait to see how and when you introduce them. =D I love being his IRL friend.
Not open for further replies.