A/N: I'm finding it very hard to estimate when enough time has gone by for the sun to come up and when Rhoslyn has to go back to her haven to sleep. For the sake of my sanity, I will leave these moments unwritten. Just imagine she does go back to her haven to sleep whenever it is necessary.
Chapter 4:
Carson's apartment was much like Mercurio's, big and luxurious, in Rhoslyn's eyes anyway. She walked in and looked around the place, thinking Carson was very obviously a bachelor. The poster of someone called Imalia on the wall was testament to that. She looked around for a moment before catching sight of the memo-recorder standing on a coffee table. She walked over and turned it on.
"Check, check, is this thing recording?" a voice that was obviously Carson's said. "God, I hate these things." He cleared his throat before continuing, "Anyway, the McGee case is getting weirder all the time. I found where he's been hiding and I saw some really creepy stuff down there. There was no sign of McGee. I'm gonna follow up on another lead I got too. I updated the files on the computer. Uh, this is Carson signing off. Man, that sounds stupid."
Rhoslyn grinned. Carson sounded like an okay guy. The kind you couldn't help but like despite an obviously cynical nature. She sat down at the computer and hacked into it, still stunned she was even able to do that. She found out that McGee had been hiding out at the Tattoo Parlor and that the key was on the tv. She picked up the keycard and left the apartment.
She headed for the tattoo parlor. The sign said 'Devil's Brand Tattoo. Professional Body Piercing'. She used the keycard and entered, finding herself in what was obviously a long since abandoned shop. A counter with an old till. A small waiting area with a comfy chair and a table with magazines. A small room in the back with a chair used for the piercing and tattooing.
And a stairs leading down. She had no sooner approached the stairs when a phone started ringing down there. She slowly made her way down and walked into the basement. She frowned as she looked at the persistently ringing phone and finally decided to just see who it was.
She picked it up and was immediately greeted by a nasal voice. "Hello. Might I speak with mr. McGee?"
"He doesn't seem to be here at the moment. Can I help you?" Rhoslyn asked politely.
"Well, I'm not sure. I had an appointment with him a few days ago, but he never seemed to show up." The man gave a nervous sounding laugh at that. "Do you know when he'll return?"
"I don't, actually. What sort of appointment was this?" she asked.
"Well, mr. McGee was going to be doing some modeling for me. Medical reference for the work that I do here in the studio. It's a shame really…the proposition would have been quite lucrative for him."
"Really?" Rhoslyn asked, perking up. That sounded good. "Maybe I could come down and model for you…"
"Why, yes, that sounds delightful. Perhaps you could come down to my studio and we can sort out the details…" he suggested.
"Sounds good. Where are you located?" she asked, excited at the prospect of doing something normal.
"I'm at the end of Main Street, a small basement studio. The sign says 'Gimble's Prosthetics'. Just ring the buzzer and I'll let you in."
"Okay, I'll be there in a little while," Rhoslyn said, before hanging up.
She turned away from the phone to get a proper look at the small basement. It was worse than upstairs and it had a creepy feel to it. There was a bed and an old tv stationed on a stack of boxes. There was a sign on the wall that said 'Quick Cash for Modeling! Call Gimble's Prosthetics: 310-555-0142'. Next to it were pictures of people's hands and feet. She shook her head, trying to shake the ominous feeling. It was time to go.
Before she went to her modeling job, she decided to pay the Pawnshop a visit. After selling her excess items to Trip, who turned out to be a nice guy much like his friend Knox, she had more than four hundred dollars in her wallet. She figured if she was gonna be on her own after all this was done, she would need all the money she could get. Hopefully the modeling job would pay well.
Finding Gimble's Prosthetics was no problem given the large sign on the wall right next to it. Pressing the button and identifying herself was a piece of cake and stepping in was a breeze. Then came the hard part. Shaking off the eerie feeling that Stanley Gimble gave her.
His manner and words were friendly enough, but his face…his face was void of any kind of friendliness. His eyes were dark, cold and calculating. The fake arm didn't help matters either. Rhoslyn was getting seriously uncomfortable and she had already decided she would tell the man she had changed her mind.
"About the modeling…" she began when he had finished introducing himself.
"Aha, an eager participant," he cut in. "Very good." He was heading for the door and wasn't listening to her spluttered protests. "Just give me a few moments to get my equipment ready and then come on in and we'll get started." The last part was shouted over his shoulder, just as the door closed.
Then he was gone, leaving a flabbergasted Rhoslyn behind. She looked around the innocent looking waiting room and then shrugged. What was the worst that could happen? She'd do his modeling, get whatever money he wanted to pay and go. Easy enough. Right? She opened the door Gimble had disappeared through and went to look for him.
Her search of Gimble's basement 'studio' proved that evil could try to disguise itself but it could never truly be hidden. She had sensed something off about Gimble and she had been right. The first large room was ominous but didn't really reveal anything, except a blood pack in the fridge.
It was the small rooms that came after, that revealed the true horror. The first two meant little to her, it was the third that chilled her to the bone. It wasn't the surgical table that stood in the middle of the room, or even the grizzly pictures on the wall. It was the fact that the entire room was covered in blood.
She went on, even more on her guard now, and came to a set of double doors. The doors led to a large space, another surgical table in the middle. She was slowly approaching it when she was hailed by somebody in one of the two cells off to the side.
"Huh? Oh! Hey! Help! You gotta get me out of here, man! This guy's a freakin' nutjob!"
"Who? Gimble?" Rhoslyn questioned.
"'Who? Gimble?'" the man repeated irritably. "Yeah, Gimble! That guy's been taking pieces off a' me and McGee over here for the past three days. He's crazy. Freakin' crazy."
"Okay, where's the key to this door?" she asked, but before he could answer, Gimble reappeared.
He was carrying was looked to be an arm and he was heading straight for her. She dodged his strikes with the severed limb and grabbed hold of him, seeing fear bloom in his eyes when he realized just what she was. She tore his head from his body and was surprised when he didn't dissolve. Not a vampire, then.
She stood there thoughtfully for a moment until an annoyed 'Hey' snapped her out of her reverie. She opened the door to the cell using the lever on the side of it and Carson stepped out.
"Thanks, girl. You're a lifesaver. I wasn't sure I was going to make it. I'm telling you…I've been on some weird cases, but this one takes the cake."
"You're Carson I take it?" Rhoslyn asked.
"Yeah…yeah, that's me," Carson said, frowning slightly. "How did you know?"
"Arthur Kilpatrick sent me," she answered.
"He did? Ah, man. That's solid. I owe that guy big. I hope I can figure out a way to pay him back for this."
"I'm sure you will," she said. "McGee's in the next cell?"
"Yeah, but I wouldn't bother checking on him," Carson said, shuddering slightly. "He's been dead for a while now."
Rhosly nodded, deciding not to go see. "Well, Arthur's got some work for you, so you should head back to the office," she suggested.
"What?" Carson said, sounding surprised. "Oh, no. No, no, no. Not for me anymore. Look at my hand!" He held up a hand that was missing the index finger. "Gimble took my trigger finger for a trophy. I'm all through with this business. I hate to leave Arthur in a lurch, but that's just the way it is."
Rhosly nodded understandingly. If she had been through what poor Carson had been through, she wouldn't want any part of the bounty hunting business anymore either.
"I'll give him the bad news," she promised. "Take care."
"I will, but I'll be doing it far away from here," Carson said before he ran out.
Rhoslyn looked around the room she was in and shuddered. It was definitely time to get out of there. She stayed well away from the severed arm that lay on the ground close to Gimble's body. Strangely, the sight of Gimble's decapitated body didn't bother her half as much as the sight of the severed arm did.
When Rhoslyn entered Bail Bonds, the radio was on. She frowned slightly as she walked over to it.
"Hey there. What can I do you for?" Arthur Kilpatrick greeted, once again not protesting when she turned the radio off.
"I found Carson. Unfortunately, he's not coming back," she said.
"What? Ain't coming back? What do you mean he ain't coming back?" he asked, sounding highly affronted.
"His trigger finger got cut off by a psychopath," she said.
"Man, that's a tough one," Arthur said, wincing on Carson's behalf. "Bounty Hunter ain't no good without his trigger finger. Well, hell. That really leaves me in hot water. Gonna cost old Arthur real good."
"Maybe you could pay me and then tell me what the problem is," Rhoslyn suggest casually.
"Oh yeah. Sorry about that. Here ya are," Arthur said, smiling nervously.
Rhoslyn gratefully accepted the money, counting 201, rather than 200, and giving him the dollar back. Again this was done without thinking about it. She put the rest in her wallet.
"You were saying?" she said as she put her wallet back in her bag.
"I got this guy with a sheet a mile long, put in on three warrants. His girlfriend put up for the bond and now he missed a court date. I can't get in touch with either of 'em. Want a job?"
"That depends on what I would have to do," she said.
"Well, it won't be much of a job since you ain't licensed and all but until I can get me another bounty hunter, I need you to find out if this guy skipped town or what?!"
"So you just want me to find out if he's here or not?" she asked.
"Yeah, no body attachment or nothing, just find out if he's here, or where he went. I'll pay you. Deal?"
"How much?" Rhoslyn asked.
"150," Arthur offered.
"Deal," Rhoslyn said, thinking that was easy money.
She stopped at that thought, realizing that had been what she thought about finding Carson and that had not been as easy as she had expected.
"Great," Arthur continued heedlessly. "Alright, this guy's name is Mike Durbin. Goes by the name 'Muddy'. His girlfriend put up for his bond. She lives over there above Trip's Pawnshop. Her name's Marian Murietta, but I haven't been able to get in touch with her."
"So just head over to her place?" Rhoslyn asked.
"That's right. Marian Murietta in one of them crappy places above the pawnshop," Arthur said. Rhoslyn briefly wondered if she should be offended by his depiction of the pawnshop apartments, but he was already continuing, "Find out where the hell Muddy is, where is he going, whatever. But be careful. You're not licensed and if anything bad goes down, I don't know ya. Ya hear me?"
"I hear you," she confirmed.
"Alright, come back when ya got some info. Thanks in advance," Arthur said.
"I'll let you know as soon as I find something," she promised before leaving.
'Who…' Rhoslyn mused as she entered Pawnshop apartment 507. '…leaves a spare key behind a plant?' Anyone could just head right on in. And then, as she walked in, she realized there really wasn't a reason not to leave the key behind the plant. There was nothing inside.
Nothing that was, except an answering machine, the light of which was blinking. She walked over and pressed the button.
'Hey Mare, it's Mike. Look, I gotta head downtown for a few days, maybe longer. If Reno calls tell him to meet me down there. We've got something to discuss apparently. I'll be at Milton's place in the Skyline lofts 2a. Sorry, baby, I'll explain everything later.'
So Muddy was heading downtown. That was good to know. She exited the room and entered her own. She really needed to bathe. When she was clean again, even if her clothes weren't, she decided to check her emails while she was there. She was glad she did when she found one from LaCroix.
'It has come to our attention that a vial of werewolf blood has made it into the hands of a local tabloid and that they have sent it on to the clinic in Santa Monica for testing. The responsible party has been dealt with (most painfully, I assure you), but for obvious reasons we can't have anyone testing the blood. Please retrieve the blood sample from the clinic and leave it in your mail box. You will be compensated accordingly. – SL.'
She sat back in the chair and sighed irritably. She supposed she had no choice but to do it. She didn't have to like it, but she had to do it.
She entered the clinic through the back door. A quick visit to the administration computer revealed to her that the blood sample was in the electronic safe in Controlled Substances which was up the stairs. She headed up and upon entering the upstairs area, she was accosted by a guard.
"This area's for hospital staff only," he barked at her.
She frowned. She could have told him that she was there to work on the network but too much time had elapsed for that so she decided to take the easy way out.
"Give me your keys and leave me alone," she ordered.
The guard's eyes went vacant as he gave her the keys. "You can let yourself out."
"Thanks," she nodded.
She entered the CIS room and hacked into the computer. Unlocking both the Controlled Substances door and the safe was a matter of seconds but the message she got gave her pause. 'Controlled Substances camera enabled for your security.' She would have to fix that before she went in.
She looked around and found the security room. She entered, using the computer to turn off the camera in Controlled Substances and then retrieved the Werewolf Blood. Before she left she saw there was another room labeled 'Prescriptions'. She briefly considered going in there but theft for the sake of theft did not appeal to her so she left it alone. She was more than willing to do chores to make money but stealing was to be done only in emergencies.
Having put the Werewolf Blood in her mail box, she went to Arthur for her money. After telling him that 'Muddy' had gone downtown, she received her $150. She didn't think she was quite done looking for Muddy though. Maybe she could find him and make even more money by turning him in.
She hadn't told Arthur that he would be at the Skyline apartments, so that would be her advantage over any bounty hunter that came after him. The message was still on Marian Murietta's answering machine so she quickly made her way back to Murietta's apartment to erase it.
Having done that, and feeling decidedly dishonest, she decided to head for the Ocean House Hotel. It was time to go hunting for some kind of personal item. 'Ghosts and spirits,' she thought as she opened the manhole in the parking garage. 'Here I come.'
She ended up choosing to use the manhole in the parking garage to enter the sewers. There never seemed to be anybody in there so it wasn't likely anyone would see her go down. As she crouched through the pipe and into the sewer, her foot struck a rat and she all but jumped out of her skin.
The rat squeaked indignantly as it scurried away, and Rhoslyn sighed, slapping herself mentally. 'Pull yourself together.' She exited the pipe and looked left and right. On the left there seemed to be nothing but sewer. On the right, however, was a map. She approached it hopefully, but frowned when she saw it was a map of Los Angeles and not a very detailed one.
'How am I supposed to...'
She stopped that thought when to her left, and in the distance, she saw a gate. She retrieved her keys from her bag and made her way over to the gate, pleased when the sewer gate key she had been given fit.
'So obviously this is the right way.'
'Access Point A' the sign behind the ladder said. She climbed up the ladder and moved the manhole cover, making her way out of the sewer. Walking around a mound of earth, she found herself in an area that looked more like a construction site than anything else.
To the right was the large hotel. Ahead and slightly to the left was a cabin. She turned right and headed for the hotel. She wanted to get this over with. As she approached the front door, she was startled when the lamp on the right of it exploded in her face, showering her with glass. She blinked owlishly for a moment, before brushing the glass off her shoulders and out of her hair.
'Okay, that was a nice start.'
She tried the front door and found that it was locked. She brought out her lockpick and prepared to pick the lock, when she remembered the cabin. She put the lockpick away again and started making her way across the open space, toward the cabin. Why bother with picking locks, and possibly having to use Blood Buff, when there might be a key to be found? She shivered as she walked, there was definitely an ominous feeling to the place.
The cabin had obviously been long abandoned. All that remained inside was a desk in the corner with a small monitor and a phone on it, neither still working, and two ratty chairs. Next to the desk and on the wall was a hook, however, and on it was a key. A key that was labeled 'Ocean House Frontdoor Key'.
She opened the front door to the hotel and stepped into what was once a beautiful lobby. She frowned to herself as she heard the creepy sounds coming from all over the house.
'Great,' she thought. 'So the ghosts are coming out to play.'
She stepped forward, determined not to show that it bothered her. Though it truly did. A fight she could handle. Though she had never been a fighter when she was alive, as a vampire she was okay at it. But things that she couldn't see, or touch, in other words, things that she couldn't beat, just made her nervous.
Between the two staircases in front of her she noticed a small table with a newspaper on it. She curiously stepped forward to go see when a terrible noise came from above her and she just barely managed to leap back and out of the way of a falling chandelier.
She walked around it, her frown deepening as she looked at the chandelier, when she heard something behind her. She whirled around, only to be assailed by a table lamp. She swiped at it, sending it careening into the wall, where it smashed to pieces. Her frown turned into a scowl. Now that just pissed her off. She wasn't there to fool around, she was there to get a personal possession of a ghost and that was what she would do. She turned to the table, picking the paper up with decidedly less interest than she had before.
'GRAND OPENING! Santa Monica celebrates the new Ocean House Hotel.'
She dropped the newspaper and headed right. A vase came flying at her and she just barely managed to swipe it out of the air. She moved on, her frown now seemingly permanent. She found an elevator. She frowned when none of the buttons did anything before remembering the power was out.
'Maybe I should turn the power back on.' She scowled. 'Or maybe I should just use the freaking stairs.'
Shaking her head at herself she exited the elevator and she saw what she had missed when she had entered it. There was a paper on the floor.
'OCEAN HOUSE FIRE! Source of Inferno still a mystery to officials.'
She headed further and wound up in a deadend hallway. She was spooked when a voice whispered to her. 'He's here.' Rhoslyn whirled around and cried out involuntarily when she came face to face with the hunched figure of a man. It disappeared as she looked at it and she swallowed hard as she left the hall.
This time she went the other way. Apart from more vases, picture frames and lamps flying at her as she walked there was nothing there. She once again walked into a deadend hallway. This time the voice whispered, 'He's watching.' She whirled around again, fully expecting to see the man again. This time, however, she was only greeted by a hostile table lamp.
She made her way back to center of the lobby and veered away from the staircase that creaked before she even stepped on it. Instead she chose the one on the left. She had just enough time to say, "What the…" before it collapsed underneath her. Silence ensued for a long moment before a steady stream of expletives came pouring out of the hole.
She brushed herself off, glaring at the hole above her. The most obvious way out of wherever she was, was a pile of bricks, that was obviously meant to be a wall. She kicked the bricks out of the way and crawled through the resulting hole.
Apart from a newspaper that held the most ominous headline yet, 'HOTEL HELL! Child's severed head found in hotel laundry room', the room itself held nothing. She headed for the door and was slightly alarmed when it opened all by itself. She stepped through and found herself in a small space with three possible ways to go. One led to a deadend, another led to an elevator that still didn't work, and the last led to a larger area.
She walked into the last hallway, but stopped dead in her tracks when the ghost of a frightened young woman came rushing past. She swallowed hard as she made her way away from where the young woman had gone and found herself in the laundry room.
Her palms were sweaty and her head felt heavy when she heard the sound of something bouncing around in one of the dryers. She was drawn to the dryer that was making the terrible sound. The sound suddenly stopped and Rhoslyn reached for the door of the dryer.
She took a deep breath and yanked it open, nearly ripping the door off its hinges. She had fully expected to see a severed head in there, but instead she found only a key. It was labeled 'Boiler Room'. She nodded. 'Right, into the boiler room to turn the power back on. And then on to the elevator to go up.'
She found the boiler room door easily, lit by a red bulb as it was, and she slowly made her way down. She found herself in a large room filled with large pipes and she quickly made her way around them. She heard a noise behind her but she kept on going. She wouldn't look, she wouldn't.
She flipped the switch she found inside a small cage and was relieved when the whole place lit up, albeit reluctantly and under protest. She made her way back to the elevator and got on. Pressing a button wasn't necessary as it apparently knew exactly where to go.
The elevator doors opened on the second floor and Rhoslyn stepped out. She made her way into the main corridor only to have a painting slam into her back from behind. She winced as she felt the pieces of the painting slash her back.
She walked on, deciding it would heal itself, but as she turned the corner, she was once again assailed, this time by a picture frame. She picked a piece of it out of her forehead but nonetheless went on. She looked ahead and saw that the female ghost was standing close to a small table.
When Rhoslyn came closer, she disappeared. She was startled by the sound of the standing clock chiming as she passed it, and she scowled at it. Where the ghost had been was a small table and two chairs. A paper was on the table.
'ANOTHER BODY! Police say second child was 'chopped up like firewood'
Rhoslyn winced at the picture that accompanied the headline. 'Not a nice ghost, then.'
She walked into the hallway that held two sets of double doors. The first set opened on their own. Judging by the toys on the floor, it was a children's room. Rhoslyn picked up a drawing from the floor and gasped when she saw what it depicted. A daddy, a mommy and two children. But the daddy was drawn as a demon of some kind. 'What is going on here?'
The second room was the parents' room. It had a dark, wrong feel to it somehow. Like something wasn't right about the room. Rhoslyn walked in and almost immediately the lights went off. When they went back on, the words 'Get Out' had been carved into the wall above the bed's headboard.
Rhoslyn slowly walked to the nightstand, almost absently swiping at the vase that flew at her. She opened the nightstand and found a key, it was labeled 'Upstairs Key'.
As she walked out and passed the children's room, a toy came rolling out, accompanied by the chime of a bicycle bell. For some reason it brought tears to Rhoslyn's eyes. She impatiently pushed them back, she didn't have time for crying.
In the distance she thought she saw the female ghost again and she made her way to where the ghost was standing. The ghost raised her arm and pointed at the room she was standing next to before disappearing. Rhoslyn used the key to enter the room, a badly burnt room.
There was nothing in the room except boards on the floor and after moving them, she found a hole. She dropped through the hole and found herself in a bar, another newspaper on the counter.
'MURDER SUICIDE! Ocean House killer possibly responsible for inferno!'
She put the paper back down and looked up when she caught sight of a blinking light. One ride up in a very cramped service elevator later and she was in the kitchen. On the counter was a diary. The diary of the woman she had seen as a ghost.
Tears rose in Rhoslyn's eyes as she read the entries and this time she let them fall. It was now all too clear what had happened. Husband and wife take their children on a nice holiday. The husband, Ed, becomes suspicious that his wife is having an affair, an unfounded suspicion, and winds up killing not just her, but their children as well.
She closed the diary and put it back on the counter just as a rattling noise started up. She looked up and caught a pot right on the jaw. Another pan hit her in the knee, before she was able to pull herself together enough to defend herself. The stoves all lit up at once, burning Rhoslyn on the side of her left arm before she was able to get out of the way. A large object slammed through the door to the side and Rhoslyn quickly made her way over, darting through just as another large object flew at her.
She collapsed against a wall near a vent and gasped at the pain in various parts of her body. She opened her bag and quickly retrieved a bloodpack. After emptying it, she could feel her wounds healing even faster than usual and she was glad. That had hurt.
The only way out of the room was through the vent and so through the vent she went. The woman whispered, 'Be careful' to her and Rhoslyn nodded, she'd be careful. She smashed the grate covering the vent at the end and jumped through.
The snapping of a cable made her look up and she was shocked to find the elevator heading straight for her. She leapt out of the way, winding up next to a ladder leading up. The elevator crashed into place and it was a long while before Rhoslyn was able to move again.
She took a deep breath and started climbing the ladder, resolving that she wouldn't let it get to her. So she had nearly died, nearly didn't count.
'Just keep telling yourself that,' she thought sourly as she made her way up.
The only doors that would open were on the second floor and so she got out there. She first turned the corner to the right. In one of the rooms, she found a thistle. She didn't know exactly what it did but for some reason it felt right to have it on her person so she kept it. She also found another paper.
'MURDERS UNSOLVED! Mother or father could have been Ocean House killer'
Rhoslyn couldn't believe it. How could something so simple be unsolved? She went back to the elevator, this time turning left. Once again the female ghost came running by, frightened and upset. This time, however, Rhoslyn followed her. She winced as shards of a vase penetrated her ear and cheek.
"You can be pissed off all you want," she shouted into the darkness as she peeled the pieces out. "I'm gonna get what I want anyway."
The hostility in the house seemed to grow at that and she just barely turned around in time to swipe a large and rather heavy chair out of the air, bruising her wrist. She scowled at her surroundings before following the hallway the woman had run into.
More exploding lamps preceded the exploding of an entire door, the pieces of which just barely missed her. She sighed as she stepped over the rubble. Ed really didn't like her. The room she entered had beams on the far side of it, beams that helped her get to the floor above quite nicely.
Apparently, Ed wasn't happy that she had found her way up because no sooner had she crossed the room when blue and purple flames came flying out of the walls. Flames that were very capable of doing what Ed himself couldn't. Killing her. She went through the door at the end of the room. More flames were in the hallway. She went around a hole in the floor, flames licking up from its depths.
After the hole there was a hallway that filled with gas, gas that burned worse than the flames did. She ran through, just barely making it to the other side with her unlife intact. She crashed through the door and crumpled to the floor, her body burnt all over. She fumbled for her bag and grabbed a pack.
'If this keeps up, I'll end up running out.'
It didn't matter, though. She needed the blood. The blue blood in the pack slipped down her throat, mending her with ease. She sighed in relief before taking a moment to see where she was. Her mouth dropped open in disbelief as she found herself sitting in a very nice, very undamaged room.
She got up slowly, pleased when it didn't hurt, and walked around the room, not able to believe what her own eyes were telling her. On a small table in the corner of the room lay a beautiful pendant, and somehow Rhoslyn knew this was what she had been looking for.
She picked it up, only for the room to return to its original decrepit state.
'So, it was merely an illusion.'
Illusion or no illusion, Rhoslyn had what she had gone there for and now it was time to leave. She leapt down the hole in the room, making her way through a door that opened for her. She jumped down the liftshaft, prying open the doors to the second floor. She jumped over the banister, not willing to take her chances with the stairs, and ran out the door.
Rhoslyn gratefully let the door shut behind her, ignoring the bloodcurdling scream of a man behind her and smiling slightly at the whispered 'Thank you' that floated on a breeze. She looked up at the sky. It had started raining and the rain felt right somehow. Like it was purifying her. Her body no longer ached, there were no wounds, and she had what she came there for.
'Right,' she thought as she headed back to the manhole. 'Therese. Then Tung. Then whatever chore I have to do. Go to Los Angeles. Tell Lacroix to go to Hell. Live – or something like that – happily ever after. Right.'