HWA Message Board: Putting the Pieces Together

Present Day
Altadena, California.

Detective Brooke Snow sat at a small dining table, case files spread across the surface in a chaotic sprawl along with a half-empty cardboard container of Chinese takeout. The only light in the room came from the desk lamp she’d dragged over, casting long shadows over crime scene photos, police reports, and forensic breakdowns. Alongside the takeout, a half-drunk cup of coffee sat beside Brooke, going cold.

She leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes scanning the pages for the hundredth time, trying to make sense of the madness that was Professor David Hoff.

There was Arson at a podcast studio. The fire had gutted the place, destroying expensive recording equipment and nearly killing the host, a fellow professional wrestler from the same company, HWA. Officially, the fire was deemed an accident. Unofficially? The timing was too convenient.

Then there was the attempted smuggling at LAX. Customs had flagged Hoff during a domestic flight after finding a suspicious package in his checked luggage; an assortment of unregistered chemicals, surgical tools, and several vials of an unidentified substance. He walked away without charges, claiming it was all for “research,” but the report mentioned something unsettling. Some of the vials contained human tissue samples.

And then there was the worst one. The botched murder. Another pro wrestler, some German national who’d been Stateside for the better part of twenty years and some sort of outlandish attempt at human cloning. What the f*ck was this?!

Brooke ran a hand down her face. Taking a sip of the cold coffee, she muttered to herself.

Brooke: What the hell were you trying to do, Hoff?

In the background, the TV flickered with movement, the volume turned low. Across the room, Alexis Rose, dressed in sweatpants and an oversized band tee, sat cross-legged on the couch with a notebook in her lap, watching footage of what appeared to be the recently-returning Luna Rain Draconis. Alexis scribbled some notes, rewinding the footage, and watched the sequence again. Brooke glanced over.

Brooke: That’s for the Battle Royale?

Alexis nodded.

Alexis: Fatality’s a big show, babe. I need to be ready. I haven’t competed on a big stage like this since Sarah and I had our tag match against those Blackthorne bimbos. Plus, everyone on the female roster is competing! Michelle, Sarah, Luna, Erica and the new girl… well, not so new now, Starlight Kid. This could be a real chance for me to push on from the intergender tag stuff from a few weeks ago!

She scribbled something else down, then glanced at Brooke’s mess of papers.

Alexis: How’s the case?

Brooke sighed, leaning back in her chair.

Brooke: Like staring into a goddamn abyss.

She picked up one of the reports and shook her head.

Brooke: Hoff is a maniac, but I can’t figure out what his endgame is. He’s obviously trying to create something.

Alexis frowned.

Alexis: Like what?

Brooke: That’s the question.

Brooke tossed the paper down and rubbed at her temple. After a moment, she looked over at Alexis again.

Brooke: Hey… you’ve been with HWA for a while. You ever had any run-ins with Hoff?

Alexis wrinkled her nose.

Alexis: Not really. I’ve seen him around backstage, but he’s not exactly social. He keeps to himself, and when he does talk, it’s usually just weird muttering about ‘unlocking human potential’ or whatever.

Brooke folded her arms.

Brooke: That’s on-brand…He ever creep you out?

Alexis hesitated, then nodded.

Alexis: Yeah. There’s just something… off about him. The way he looks at people. Like he’s studying them. Measuring them.

Brooke frowned.

Brooke: Measuring them for what?

Alexis: I don’t know… But I do know that most people backstage keep their distance from him. Even Butch and Wisdom don’t engage with him unless they absolutely have to.

Brooke drummed her fingers against the table, thinking. The Parkers were very respected in the world of professional wrestling. The husband, Butch, had had some shady dealings in the past from the background check she’d run on him, involving that guy that she’d seen a teaser on Netflix for some fly-on-the-wall documentary.

But by all accounts, it was nothing but an anomaly. Married, two kids, a nephew who was also a pro wrestler too. And they’d been more than accommodating with her when she had visited them at their last show as well. Alexis stared across at Brooke, seeing the tiredness in her eyes.

Alexis: You need to take a break.

Brooke blinked, looking up. Alexis was still curled up on the couch, remote in hand, her dark eyes studying her with that mix of amusement and concern she always had when Brooke got like this.

Brooke: I’m fine.

Alexis rolled her eyes, unconvinced.

Alexis: Uh-huh.

She stood, tossing her notepad aside before turning the TV off and stretching, before crossing the room toward her.

Alexis: You’ve been staring at that file all night and that takeout looks like it’s been sitting there for weeks.

Brooke opened her mouth to argue, but Alexis gave her a knowing look.
.
Brooke: …Coffee counts.

Alexis snorted.

Alexis: No, it doesn’t.

She pulled out the chair across from her and sat down, her gaze flicking over the scattered files.

Alexis: You’re overthinking it.

Brooke exhaled.

Brooke: I have to overthink it. This guy is….

She gestured to the mess in front of her.

Brooke: ….He’s not normal. He’s not a gangbanger, he’s not a serial killer, he’s not some cartel enforcer. He’s playing by a whole different set of rules that I can’t f*cking figure out…

Alexis: I get that, but you’re driving yourself crazy trying to figure it out in one night.

Brooke ran a hand through her hair, frustration creeping into her voice.

Brooke: The worst part is, I don’t even know where to start. The Parkers said they’d cooperate, but I don’t know what they can actually tell me.

Alexis reached out, gently squeezing Brooke’s wrist.

Alexis: Butch and Wisdom aren’t the type to cover for someone like Hoff. If they say they’ll help, they will. You’ll get what you need.

Brooke exhaled, letting her shoulders relax slightly. She knew Alexis was right. The Parkers had a reputation for being tough but fair, and everything she’d seen so far told her they wanted no part in Hoff’s madness. If they had information, they’d give it to her. That meant, for now, there was nothing else she could do. Brooke sighed.

Brooke: Maybe I do need a break.

Alexis grinned.

Alexis: Finally, she listens.

Before Brooke could roll her eyes, Alexis tugged the case file out of her hands and closed it with a soft thud.

Brooke: Hey…

She wasn’t convincing anyone with her weak protest.

Alexis: Nope.

Alexis stepped closer, sliding a knee between Brooke’s legs.

Alexis: No more crime scene photos. No more obsessing. You need to unwind.

Brooke arched an eyebrow.

Brooke: And what exactly do you suggest?

Alexis’ smirk widened.

Alexis: Oh, I’ve got a few ideas.

She leaned in, lips just barely grazing Brooke’s ear.

Alexis: Let me help you clear your head.
A slow, deliberate kiss landed just below Brooke’s jaw, her breath hitching as Alexis’ hands wandered lower, fingers playing at the hem of her shirt before slipping underneath, nails raking lightly over bare skin.

Alexis: You work too hard.

Brooke swallowed, her resolve slipping with every calculated brush of Alexis’ lips against her neck.

Brooke: Someone’s gotta do it.

Alexis: Not tonight.

And with that, she pulled Brooke up from the chair, guiding her backward toward the couch. Brooke didn’t resist. No HWA, no Hoff, no crime scene photos. Just them.