Prologue
The bird was black, glossy, somewhat beautiful, and the fact it had landed on my balcony rail the second I stepped outside didn't escape me. Whistling softly, I reached out and stroked the creature's smooth feathers, trailing my fingers down the head and neck and petting the back. I had always wanted a crow for a pet, to place atop a black metal perch in the living room amongst the other furniture, to teach to speak and call my own. Right now, I was dressed for a Halloween party and was about to leave when I stepped out on the balcony to place a single black rose on the cold stone, a memory of the late and great Eric Draven. I'd never met him before, but I had heard the stories, and it was my token of remembrance for him to lay a black rose on my balcony every holiday. As a true Goth, I tried to salute all of my heroes, and who didn't love the rock star who came back from the dead to avenge his and his fiancee's murders?
"Hello," I greeted the creature, offering it the rose. "They say you take souls to the land of the dead. Think you can take this to Eric for me? Not sure if he's been getting the other ones."
The bird cawed at me and held up one taloned foot, gripping the plump bloom firmly but gently, then flew off into the distance with it. Smiling, I drew my black cape tighter around my shoulders and started toward my front door, stopping to check my make-up in the hall mirror. My face was painted white, my lips black, along with heavy eyeliner, eyeshadow, and mascara, all black. A silk cape hung from my shoulders, bound with a silver clasp, and my shirt was deep burgundy, a black corset laced up with red ties covering the bottom part of it. My pants were black satin, skin tight, and black boots laced up to my knees with red silk ties. My black hair was short and choppy, brushing the top of the cape.
My mind still on the crow, I opened the door and started downstairs.
"What have you got for me?" Eric Draven asked, holding out his hand when he noticed the Crow had something in gripped in its foot. Cawing, the bird dropped what appeared to be a slightly furled pitch black rose, the stem stripped of thorns, the leaves thick and mossy. "A present?"
The bird cawed and waved its wing, indicating he should follow it. Chuckling, Eric wound the long stem around his fingers and held the bloom in his cupped palm, following the Crow down the streets, wondering if it would lead him to the person who thought to offer him a present on Halloween.