Episode 1
Three days. That's how long it had been since Diana had lost contact with Ballerina and Nymph. Three days of waiting, for news of their appearance to reach her either through direct contact or what most locals called the hobo-express; nothing traveled faster in Vallun City than one message from a panhandler to another. Most of that was just talk on who was charitable, who'd been a tight-ass when it came to the asking, but there were times when a tramp with little reason to deny it saw something they shouldn't have, like a break-in, or a murder...or the reappearance of two of Vallun City's most well-known vigilantes. Part of her shuddered at the use of the word. Most people thought of vigilantes as being Batman, or Spiderman, or any other lunatic with a costume and a talent for one-liners. It was hard work and hiding in plain sight that did the most work, and Ballerina and Nymph were, when they wanted to, very noticeable. And yet there was nothing.
The last thing they'd both reported working on was the harbour case. For the last month, there'd been rumours of disappearances in and near the docks, once the heart of Vallun City, but now no more than broken down, rusted to nothingness, pieces of history. There were always awful things happening near there. Some gangs tried to bring in contraband through the more secluded areas; the nastier ones used it to bring in cargo of a human nature, either people fleeced for a chance at a better life, or those who would be put to work and extorted to pay a debt that never settled. 'Services rendered', a lot of them called it mockingly. Of course, sometimes they used the docks to take people out; normally the ones who'd offended a head honcho, or been skimming from the books. That didn't mean all the bodies dredged out by the VCPD's boat patrol were murders though. Drunks would get lost from the bars, end up staggering into the water, or OD'd junkies would be dropped in after being jackrolled for their last few possessions. It was, in a perverse sense, cleaning up the place.
But this was different. In the past month, there'd been nine disappearances of normal, everyday citizens, three male and five female, who'd all passed by the harbour on their way home after a late night's work, a party, or even a rendezvous with their lover in one case. All had been alone, all had never arrived home. The newspapers had taken to assuming it was a serial killer, even with a lack of bodies, under the name of the Harbour Horror. It was trite, and almost cliche, but cliches were always built on fact, and the fact was it was most likely a deadly one. Ballerina and Nymph were both well trained and experienced, if not as much as Diana, but the fact that she'd not heard anything suggested that they'd been taken too. Just having to disappear under cover meant the use of a warning signal left in any of a dozen prearranged locations, but she'd seen nothing the few times she'd driven around.
Dammit! she cursed inwardly. There was nothing else for it, she'd just have to try and have a look herself.
It was easy enough for her to dress in something that wouldn't stand out; a black skirt, and a leather jacket over her deep red blouse. A handbag was draped over one arm, while the other held her phone, completing the picture of a reasonably trendy young office worker. It wasn't uncommon for people to have their phones within easy reach going near the harbour, and would have probably made her stand out even more from the other people going through the maze of streets surrounding it. Caution was a virtue on the city's streets, even after the years she and the others had spent doing what they could to make it better. It was even easier to get a cab to the nearest nightclub that lay in a straight line with the majority of the disappearances, slipping inside with a bunch of other women to avoid notice. A smile and a whisper to the bartender got her a glass of wine, and she sipped the bitter red slowly, scanning the crowd and casually deflecting the advances of various men, and not a few women, as she evaluated each in turn. Nearly time, she thought to herself an hour later. The club was starting to empty out, and she could easily lose herself in the crowd.
Within minutes she was pacing steadily, if slowly, along the sidewalk, taking care not to look like she was trawling. The average human's peripheral vision was far better than what most people realised, and it only took the habit of using it regularly for it to improve. Not, she thought after half an hour of mind-numbing walking, it mattered since the streets were empty. Part of her couldn't help but shiver at the thought; even the harbour at night time was normally more busy with the typical thugs and tramps who called it home by choice, or the lack thereof. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea after all; chances were the Horror they'd simply quit their spree. She couldn't bear to think about the idea that instead they had moved onto greener pastures. Diana shuddered in revulsion at the intruding thought, but she knew that without another case, she'd lose the scent. A muted call cut through her distraction, and she flicked her head off to the side, catching sight of a man behind her.
No, not a man, she thought as she looked at him more fully. The slightly baby-faced look of a teenager gave that away, and the way he puffed his chest out from the unbuttoned denim vest just made him look stupid rather than 'manly'. The harsh, nasal accent gave him away as a resident of the south side of the city. "I said, whatcha doing out here darlin'? Not a good place to be walking about all on your lonesome, know what I'm sayin'?"
Diana just cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm grateful for the concern, but I'm heading home already, thanks."
"Aww, don't do that! You can come back to my place," his voice practically oozed with a barely concealed lust, and Diana just barely kept her eyes from rolling. If he kept it up like this, she'd have to take a shower just to wipe away the memory..."Hey, come on! I can get you real warm up out of the cold, y'know?"
Fine, she thought,
let's see you handle me. A warm smile plastered onto her lips, she turned back and casually walked closer to him, the click of her short heels punctuating her words. "Oh? You'd do that for me? The smile turned into something more coquettish, and Diana's voice dropped into a husky tone, watching as the boy's cheeks turned pink from blushing. "Or would you do that...to me?"
"Anyway you want, sweetcheeks," he grinned.
"Then how about this way," she flicked the edge of her tongue out over her lips, "where you and me go back to your place, turn the lights down low," now a hand reached out over his denim, stroking his chest lightly, "maybe put some slow music on." Her other hand stretched out as well, just gripping the edge of his jacket, "And then I tell your mom what you get up to late at night, shit-for-brains!"
Her free hand grabbed the front of his vest, arms uncurling as she pushed him back and smirked, watching him trip over a broken slab in the sidewalk. "A kid your age should be crapping himself at the thought of meeting his prom date's dad, not trying to hit on someone who's not interested, and," she said tilting her head forward, "let's be honest, is way, way, out of your league." The sound of a snicker cut her off from saying anything more as she looked over the street, cursing at the realisation she'd been caught acting like that without realising there was someone else present.
The elderly tramp laughing didn't notice, just raising a half-empty can in salute. "Yea', yo-you tell him, missy," he stuttered out before keeling back over with a laugh. Diana just smiled hesitantly, turning back the way she'd been heading and striding off steadily. Hopefully she could escape serious notice if the Horror was still in the area since what she'd just done was, unfortunately, far too uncommon, especially in the more run-down districts. The tramp started laughing again, interrupted as the boy got to his feet and stormed towards him.
"The fuck you think's funny, asshole? I'll wipe that look off your face onto the sidewalk!" One boot rose up before it crashed into the other man's side. Diana winced at the thin, pitiful screams, shoes clicking quicker and quicker as she sped back towards the pair. The teenager didn't hear her coming, just slamming his heavy boots into the beggar's writhing body like a piston, throwing in the occasional punch, not realising she was present as the bottom of Diana's closed fist hammered into the side of his neck, a flick of her knee snapping into his midriff as he crumbled.
Turning back to the older man, she cradled grimy fingers in her own as she steadied his bloodied head. "Than-thank you miss," he hacked out, reeling over as he began to cough frantically. Recoiling back, she cursed herself for the hesitancy. He needed help, and that meant seeing whatever damage had been done to make him behave like that.
"I can call an ambulance if you ne-" she began, his head shaking twitchily in response.
"No...no need miss," he replied, still sounding shaky as he patted her hand. "You're more than enough." His voice turned deeper with the last part, dropping the rough and thready speech as he rolled back over, a stun gun in his hand. "Thanks for your help." The last thing she saw was his beaming grin as the stun gun jabbed into her ribs, and the supernova of pure pain overloaded her nerves.
