Chapter 2: Witch Hunt and Crocodile Dodge

After I got the order to meet with the witch from the chief, Ramirez insisted on joining me.

We drove in an old classic police patrol car, and as we cruised down the road, Ramirez decided to talk.

“Man, I still can’t believe we’re going to meet a witch. What’s she like, Hernandez?” Ramirez asked, eyes forward on the road.

“Well, let’s just say she’s pretty—but do you really want to hit on someone who’s literally called the witch? You might leave with a cursed dick.”

“Why the hell not, as long as she’s hot.”

“Geez, you must be really desperate, huh, Ramirez,” I muttered, staring out the window.

“Anyway, what we going to do there is just receive information from her end interrogate her just a bit end maybe I leave you with the witch so you can mingle with her.” 

“Well, thanks. I can’t believe you’d do that for me, Hernandez.”

“That was sarcasm, Ramirez. We’ve got a job to do.” I looked back down at the case file.

“Oh… okay then. Pendejo.”

A few minutes later, we arrived at the so-called witch’s hut. Well, it was more like a small house on the fringes of Mexico City.

“Alright, Ramirez. Stay close to me unless you want to get eaten by a crocodile.”

“Huh? Wait—what? She has crocodiles?”

“Yeah. She keeps three of them in that fenced area. So, stay clear of it.”

I knocked on the door. “¡Oye, Bruja! It’s Hernandez. Open up.”

As I raised my hand to knock again, the door suddenly creaked open.

“Ahh, Jesús!” Ramirez yelped behind me.

“Come on in, Ramirez. Don’t you want to see the pretty witch? Though be careful—you might get more than you bargained for,” I said, chuckling as I stepped inside.

“Eh, I’m good. I think I’ll keep my dick curse-free, thank you very much,” Ramirez said, quickly retreating to the car.

“Hehe... cabrón.”

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of dried herbs, candle wax, and something... darker.

I looked around. So many candles. Well, at least she’s conscious of electricity bills and the environment.

The walls were etched with strange runes. How do I know that? Well, I’ve been cursed before. Okay, not really—but my abuela used to say I was when I dropped her fajitas. She even drew similar runes on the wall with chili sauce.

Shelves lined the curved walls, sagging under the weight of tomes, spellbooks, and skulls. Hopefully not human. Otherwise, I’d actually have to arrest her. Still more believable than arresting a corrupt politician.

Then I felt a touch on my back.

“Ah, Detective Hernandez. I predicted you’d arrive. Though you're about 20 seconds late,” a soft voice said.

“Yeah, sorry. Ramirez—he’s my partner—insisted on tagging along.”

“Hehe. So, where is he?”

“Outside. Got spooked by your ‘scary door.’ I know that was a trick to boost your credibility.”

“Me? Trick people? Never. You must be overworked, detective. Would you like a potion to revitalize your body?” she asked, pulling a small bottle from a shelf.

“Eh, no thanks. I’m just here for the information you promised. Otherwise, I’m calling you a fraud, and that’ll tank your business.”

“Relax, detective. Please, take a seat.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself. City folks—always so uptight.”

“Information. Please.”

“Okay, okay. So, during the witching hour—between 1 AM and 3 AM, if you didn’t know—the spirits warned me of a dangerous beast.”

“Go on. That actually matches the timing of the attacks.”

“But I sensed more than just a beast. There’s something... darker.” She gestured subtly toward the donation tray.

“Yeah, yeah. Here.” I dropped in five pesos.

“Thank you for your patronage, detective,” she said with a wink.

“As I was saying—I sensed a dark aura, one connected to a man. A man who might be using the dog.”

“What, like an owner or something?”

“Something like that. That’s all I can say for now. I might contact you later if I sense more.”

And then—poof—she disappeared.

Well, not really. There was a trap door under her desk. A neat party trick, I’ll admit.

“Yeah, see you around, Bruja.”

I stepped back outside, only to see Ramirez peeing on a post.

“Ramirez! Get away from there! That’s where the cro—”

SNAP!

A crocodile’s jaw clamped just inches from him.

“¡Mierda!” Ramirez zipped up and bolted toward the car.

“Let’s go!” I shouted, running too. “Start the damn engine, Ramirez! If this patrol car gets trashed, Fernando will dock our pay!”

I tossed a cigarette to distract the crocodile.

“I’m trying, but this car’s ancient!”

After a few tense seconds of turning the key—

“Alright, it’s on! Let’s get out of here!”

He floored it in reverse, and we sped off.

“Gracias a Dios. Looks like I might actually be able to pay my electric and water bills this month.”

“So… you got the info?”

“Yeah. And I know where we’re going next.”

“Where?”

“The U.S. Embassy.”

“Wait, the U.S. Embassy? Aren’t we kind of, uh… not on the best terms with them these days?”

“Yeah. But when it comes to cartels, they’ve got the only intel worth a damn.”

“…Alright then. U.S. Embassy it is.”

To be continue in chapter 3

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