1. Stranger in the Night

? POV

The dark moon hung in the sky as I leapt over the rooftops. It was pitch black now, just the way I liked it. No cars buzzing along the roads and noisy humans screaming at anything they saw.

Stupid apes.

I stopped and hid as I spotted the small group of people walking down the alleyway. Night vision had its advantages.

Five. Humans. Three men, two females. What were they doing here? Now?

One the humans wielded a light device. A 'torch' they called it. They shone it through the alleyway as if searching for something.

The human in the lead, also wielding the torch, was dressed in a period military coat and had a ... unique swagger I had thought belonged to only one person.

It couldn't be.

Jack?

Jack POV

Found it.

The corpse shone in the torchlight, and, as Owen remarked, looked more like sausages than a body. The poor women, only in her thirties, had been completely mauled. Organs spilt into the alleyway and blood stained the ground, walls and surrounding objects.

'Ready?' I spoke, breaking the silence. People rushed to their positions; photographing, bagging evidence and examining the body. Gwen looked a little green.

'Weevil?' I asked Owen. He shrugged. It was hard to tell.

'OK people, let's bag it and go!' I encouraged. I jogged back to the SUV, parked (conveniently) about 100m away.

My fingers were beginning to feel numb, and I managed to drop the keys on the cold, wet ground.

As I picked them up, I spotted a large black feather lying right in front of me. I picked it up and put it in my coat pocket.

I unlocked the car, grabbing the body bag and stretcher whilst thinking –

No. It can't. It just couldn't be her.

I looked up at the rooftops and swore I saw a figure disappear into the shadows.

Next morning...

Ianto P.O.V

Like every morning he spent at Torchwood, Ianto Jones spent it in the Hub reception. Filing reports, deleting alien conspiracies off the web and trying to write the alley-woman's death report. (Caught in a giant blender was the best so far. )

He yawned. Last night was a long night.

The door of the reception flung open, and out of the sunlight appeared a young woman, only about 16 years of age.

She had long black hair, in a tight plait down her back. Her pale skin, contrasted with her eyes, which were a deep, penetrating blue. She had fine features and, from her body, you could see she was some sort of serious athlete. She was tall, for a girl, but Ianto guessed he was the taller.

She wore a long, black jacket over a black top, black trousers and (you guessed it) black combat boots, and walked into the reception with a kind of deadly confidence.

Then Ianto spotted the two large knives strapped to her waist.

Awestruck, he realised he had been staring at her the entire time.

'Oh, um, sorry there,' he mumbled. Getting his act together, he spoke his rehearsed lines. 'Welcome to the Cardiff B-'

The girl, cutting him off midsentence spoke. 'I'm here to see Jack'. She spoke with a strange accent that Ianto couldn't recognise.

'I'm sorry, I don't know a 'Jack'. Anything else?' said Ianto, with a fake smile.

'Jack. Harkness. Now' she demanded.

He repeated his previous statement 'I'm sorry, I don't know a Jack, or a Harkness. Sorry.'.

The girl unsheathed a knife and began twirling it on his desk.

'We both know you lie.' She stated and sheathed the knife. Ianto gulped.

He opened his cell phone and called Jack. 'Jack, a little situation in the reception. Someone wants to see you. Possible threat.' the last line he whispered.

Surprisingly he heard Jack shout 'Yes!' and heard his footsteps as he ran to the elevator. Then the cell turned off.

Puzzled, all Ianto could think of were more gruesome deaths to add to his list.