Martin Hainsborough was a very busy man. As much as I could gather from the stacks of papers and crime photos that were put in uneven piles on his desk. It seemed that there was a rash of gang violence in the city, and those were stacked on the top. The gangs were harming innocents, and I could see why they took so much of his time. I flipped through the files, skipping over the pictures. After numerous distasteful files, I finally came upon the one I wanted. The pencil mark on the yellow tag was nearly smeared off by grease or time. It read, 'Rainer, Nicholas'. It wasn't particularly heavy, but it was all I had so far. Hainsborough wouldn't notice under all the work he had to do. Some people just slip through the cracks. It was a very unfortunate state of affairs.
"Hey, Frank, you find what you were looking for?" The night guard called out to me, stepping inside the room.
My appearance was that of a local cop, fully dressed in uniform, complete with complementary hat. My ability to adjust my spiritual form to almost any being was an asset I took pride in. I had to study Frank a little before concentrating, but once complete I was indistinguishable from the officer himself. "Yeah, thanks Carl. You take it easy." I adjusted my hat and nodded to him, walking out of the precinct into the rainy night.
***
I had secured a room in a rundown motel for the night by fast talking the owner into convincing I would pay him in the morning. Not honest, but I don't want to use my abilities to physically harm people for money. I'm still a cop. I had spread the file around me on the faded carpeting and was sitting cross legged. I could hear the soft pitter patter of the rain hitting the window. I turned my head, not able to focus on the task at hand. How long had I not listened to rain? It scaled down the window in spindly ribbons, merging with other clear drops. The moisture ran down the pane and coalesced at the bottom and the process started over again. The shear clap of thunder turned my head back to the paper suddenly, reminding me of what I was here to do. I actually took a breath. I could not focus on the distractions of the mortal world. To be distracted by what was lost would make me run in an endless circle.
"What about your wife? Is she still around? Maybe you have a daughter or a son? How old are they? You don't know? Poor, poor baby…" The shadow said softly. I took great pains and avoided what it had said.
I scanned over the halo of paper that I had surrounded myself with. The cause of Nicholas' death was blood loss. He was stabbed multiple times and left to bleed out his wounds. A long and painful way for a life to end. The medical examiner's report contained long medical descriptions of angles and arteries, none of which I could make any sense of. I skipped looking over the pictures, putting them facedown in a corner. I passed over the cause of death to what he had on him when he died. A single joker's card stuffed into the breast pocket of his shirt. Under that, Hainsborough had wrote 'The Red Fists'. It was underlined twice with two question marks next to it. The Fists were a powerful and influential gang that held precedence over the worst neighborhoods in the city. One of the few memories I held from my mortal job. What was Nicholas Rainer doing that made him the possible target for a gang hit? I clicked my tongue. It said that he worked as a controller for a small business. That was first on my list of places to visit. Next on my list was one of the Red Fists.
I checked the LED on the cheap clock of the motel clock. The digital red said it was about 2:30 in the morning. I still had awhile to go. Tomorrow I'd be Frank the cop, working his way up to detective. I gathered up the papers and replaced them back into the manila folder. I placed it into my coat and slowly fell to the floor staring at the ceiling. The pitter patter of the rain guided me into meditation. I closed my eyes, and dreamt of nothing.
***
The morning came surprisingly quick; the dim light flowed through the curtains. It looked too dim to be morning. I turned my head to look over at the digital red and it said it was 8:30. I slowly stood up and cracked my neck, the illusory bones cracking. I opened the curtains to a drizzly, hazy morning. The gray clouds blocked most of the sunlight, and the rain coated everything in a dull shine. I pulled myself away from the window and opened the door to the bathroom. My shoes grated against the cheap tile and I looked at myself in the mirror. Green eyes, black hair and a goatee. My skin was light, though not deathly pale like it was in the shadowlands. I looked different…this is what I really had looked like. I was starting to forget. The screech of tires outside the window brought my attention back to reality. I growled angrily and slammed my foot into the trash can, leaving a sizeable dent. I was getting lost in my memory. Sooner or later, I'd get too caught up in it and feel the need to keep coming back. Like an addiction. I had to finish my work and leave, before I became totally swept up in it.
I focused and my body shifted all at once. Green eyes had become blue, black hair had become blonde. My normal clothes shifted into a suit, with a detective's badge in the breast pocket. I checked the folder, still in my coat pocket. I proceeded out of the motel into the rainy street.
***
Getting to the Offices of Edrik & Kessler was hard, but I had made it. I couldn't walk halfway across the city and make it in a necessary amount of time, so I hitched a ride on the cab. It's amazing what the power and threat of using a badge will do. The Lawyers had taken the fourteenth floor in the office building. I couldn't muster the willpower to take the elevator up that far, so I took the flight of stairs up.
Opening the door to the offices, I quickly realized that it was no small paying job. The offices were not cramped, and the plate glass windows gave a good view of the city down below. On good days, light probably cascaded through the windows, illuminating the offices. I proceeded to move up to a secretary's desk, flashing my badge with a smile.
"Hello, my name is detective Frank Cassidy. I'm here investigating a murder. I'd like to talk to the boss of Nicholas Rainer if I could?" I questioned, looking towards her.
She nodded, "Sure. Office number 113."
I nodded in thanks and started to head off before I heard the secretary. "And Frank?"
I turned. "Yeah?"
"Find the bastards that did this."
I nodded to the secretary, "Don't worry. I'll find justice." I didn't mention this time that there would be no trial, and there would be no judge and no jury. Only my undying and unyielding fury as punishment. This was true justice, not a mockery of what it is in the skin lands. All debts are paid.
I knocked twice on the oak door that leads to the boss of Nicholas Rainer's office. He eventually got up and opened the door after awhile. I closed the door, taking a seat across from her. He started to speak before I could.
"How long is this going to take? I have a meeting soon." He moved a pen from her desk along his fingers looking vaguely annoyed and suspicious as well.
"It won't take long." I said, taking out a pad and a pencil I had 'borrowed' from the police station.
"Aren't you curious to know who I am meeting with?" He combed the pencil over her knuckles, looking very confident.
I looked up after getting my pen and pencil out. "No, not really."
"Its another cop. Saying he would be coming by earlier. He just called to confirm it." He leaned forward looking at me, almost through me. "Impersonating a cop is a nice sentence. So why don't you tell me who you are and who you are working for."
Shit. Not what I had planned. Hainsborough wanted to get the small cases out of his way before the gang hits were looked into. He just wasn't organized. Dammit. Think fast, think fast.
"You're gonna get caught! You're gonna get caught! You're gonna get caught!" My shadow spoke. I tried to shut it up.
I threw out a response before my shadow got the best of me. "I'm a PI that's been hired by the family. Don't ask by who, that is confidential."
"Hm. Alright. The cop will be over in a half hour. I expect to see you gone from here in ten minutes. You got me? Or you get a nice sentence. Get out."
I wasted no time in getting up, not bothering to say thank you. I would make it a point to find him when he was dead. Show him how much control that bastard had then.
My shadow spoke again. "Yeah…you could make him dead right now! Dead! All it would take would be a little poke with your sword…" Shut the fuck up. Shut up. Shut up.
I moved back to the secretary. "Look, I need your help." I put a desperate look on my face. I couldn't afford to let any lead go cold. I would find them before the police.
She looked almost bewildered at my sudden move from the office of Rainer's boss to her desk. "I need you to show me where Nicholas' Rainer's desk is."
She sighed, "They moved his desk out. They're in storage. You need a password to get in."
Ten minutes. Damn. I could discorporate my form in an office full of people. "I need you to get me the box. I don't have much time."
"Alright, alright." She shrugged and got up moving to the storage room. I leaned against her desk. The bastard would check. Though I doubted security would a ghost like me, I'd get in a nice amount of trouble for displaying power to escape. I had to be subtle and this was the way to go.
I heard the click of the clock on the wall go by. It had been five minutes. The close of a door. The boss had come to check and was making a beeline straight towards me. I stared out at her, letting out a false sigh wondering where…
The slam of a box on the desk alerted me back to the secretary's presence. I turned and uttered a thank you before snatching the cardboard box by the two cut-out handles and moving hastily towards the elevators doors. Claustrophobia or no claustrophobia I had to do it. I heard the boss call out, and could feel the eyes of workers on me. Luckily someone was getting off the elevator and I pushed passed them, throwing them out onto the lobby floor. I threw them down and frantically pushed the button for the lobby. As the doors closed, the lights of my world went out. That is when hell began.
***
Black was when the elevator doors closed. I couldn't breath. It was so hot. Why wasn't there any air. The brass doors seemed to incline to me closer. There wasn't room! No room! No air, can't breathe! The lights on the elevator numbers flickered and faded into blackness. The lights of the elevator burst and sparks flew. I leaned back in the corner, but there weren't any corners around me just physical space around me. I hammered at the walls and shouted.
There was nothing but cold inky blackness and the feeling that my lungs were breathing sludge. I couldn't move. I couldn't see. And my shadow was there. It was at my ear whispering, whispering. Always whispering. Cold breath. Rot.
"You will be one with me. I have seen it." It whirled from my right ear to my left, whispering. "I am the only way to let you know what has happened. The answer is within you. Embrace nothing, feel the touch of nothing. It's not so bad. Just like empty air. That is what everything will be when we are through. Why don't you join?"
It turned from my left ear to the front of my face. I could smell the rot. I could see it outlined in the darkness. I reached out and touched its face. I saw who my shadow was. Something that was me and that wasn't me. The whispers were my own. I had not seen it until now.
"You know we are right. You see it every time you witness death. Is it not better to have nothing than to have death? To have nothing rather than pain? We are ending a sick world. Don't you see? We are doing a cleansing. Just like when you were a cop. We are just like you. Become one, and it will be over all so quickly. I promise…"
It touched along my cheek affectionately. I grabbed the finger like a child would its mother. And I bent it back to the hand. "Fuck you." It was everything that it promised. It was a cleansing of love. Of compassion of everything that was good. It was not me. And it never would. I would not be broken. Its shrill scream pierced my ears and I screamed with it. And then at that perfect moment, the elevator doors opened.
The workers saw me screaming, huddled down in a corner next to a box. I was in my normal form that I would appear in the shadowlands, no longer a cop. The conflict in the elevator had reverted me back to my normal form. Luckily the police were looking for someone with a different description. I gradually stood up and took the box. I muttered, "I've got extreme claustrophobia."
As I walked to the exit, the elevator doors closed behind me, with my shadow laughing, its oh so joyous laughter, following me down the street.
***
I couldn't have a motel room anymore, so I took up occupancy at a room of the local library. I didn't need to eat or sleep, but this was perfect for idle research. The police, being denied this lead by Frank, would no doubt search his house and get back on the trail. I sifted through the box, mostly business related stuff. Nothing much important until I flipped through his rolodex. There was a number written down for a bar on the seedy side of town. What was a well paid accountant doing with a phone number on the seedy side of town? That I'd find out. I unclipped the number and looked through the box a bit deeper.
I nearly cut my hand on the edge of a picture frame. There were two of them. The first one was of him and his sister. She was smiling in the picture. She looked vibrant, and nothing about the smile was forced. I wondered why she killed herself. Her humanity was there. I even looked to her wrists to see if they were intact. I hummed to myself, leaning back in my chair. I could feel someone behind me. I instantly turned and there she was. "Jesus!" I stood straight up at her. It was one of her fetters. Something she attached herself with to the mortal world. The one picture that she was truly happy in.
"You scare easily, don't you?" She remarked, not bothering to hide her slit wrists. Again, they attracted my eyes.
"Yeah, especially when I'm working on something like this." I adjusted my position.
"Don't look too deeply into me. And that is a request." She circled the table.
"Right, I won't. Don't worry." I gently lay the picture down on the table. She slid her hand over and took it.
"I'm taking your word for it. Don't. I won't let you. Regulations or not. You get me?" She stared at me hard while taking the picture from across the table.
"I don't plan on it. I am keeping my end of the bargain. Are you keeping yours?" I glanced to her.
"Don't worry about me. You see to it that my brother's murderers are killed, and you'll complete your mission."
I nodded, keeping myself wary. "Yeah, and we'll all be a happy bunch."
She nodded, "Yeah. I'm going to find this picture a good home. Finish them, infiltrator." And with a blink she was gone from the room.
I slumped back into my chair. With the police and a wraith riding my ass, it seemed that there was no end. The only reward was the justice that two murders would be ended, and a death would be resolved. That was reward enough. I picked through his belongings and looked at the second picture. It was of him and the secretary. I hummed to myself. The rest of it wasn't worth anything to the investigation. I took the phone number and left the box in the room.
I headed to the librarian and asked to use the phone. She grumbled and gave me a quarter. I moved outside into the still-dull afternoon and called the pub. It was closed. I hung up the phone. I had time. I wandered around, lost in the swirling sea of my mind, and tried to focus on nothing but the silent noise of the city, and not the wailing souls that were just under the surface.
***
The dreary day had become a dreary night, though with harder rain. It was coming down nicely now, running along my skin and through my hair. It felt good. It was the first good feeling I had felt since I had come here. I looked up the blinking neon sign. 'McGregor's Irish Pub'. There probably were dozens more with the same name in the city so I pushed my way in through the door. High drinking time had already begun, I could tell by all the 'happy' faces. I could smell the thick smoke, and it made my eyes water in the dimly lit bar. I approached the tender, who didn't seem too busy.
"I'm looking for information." I said plainly.
"Oh, really?" The tender smirked and leaned forward.
"About a guy named Nick Rainer. You know him?" I nearly had to shout to say it,
He shook his head, grinning at me. "I'm afraid I don't know the name there, boy. Why don't you run along."
I smiled and shook my head, "Listen, I'm not a cop. I'm just looking for information. I can guarantee, whatever you are hiding will stay hid."
"Oh really there, boy? Why don't you get the fuck out of my place." He said, suddenly becoming hostile.
Before I could respond, two men came up to the bar and one patted me on the shoulder. "No, I think we should be giving this nice man some information out back."
The bartender nodded. "Yeah, why don't ye."
Only an idiot wouldn't see where this was going. I didn't resist. I simply smiled and nodded. "Sure, lets go." Only, I was drilled every day of the week in the arts of close combat by the best military minds in history and had fought opponents with no survival instinct. Had they? No. They hadn't.
They smiled as if they were trying to be convincing. I let them lead me out of there rather forcefully, throwing me hard against the fence. I came back quick. "So that's how its gonna be?" I asked with a smile.
"Yeah, that's how its gonna be." He threw a punch, I let it hit me. I reeled, wiping blood from my lip.
"You know the first one's free. You get one too." I pointed at the other man. He looked at his friend as if I was serious. He readied a punch and instead kicked me in the groin. I didn't even breath a little as he kicked me. I had no need for the organs down there.
"Now, its my turn." They both realized something was wrong then, but they had no chance to react. I grabbed the head of the one who had just kicked me and brought it hard against my knee. This sprung his friend into action.
He threw a punch which I deftly dodged, and then he threw another that I dodge again. I laughed and backhanded him hard across the face, to knock out a tooth. He screamed, but it was cut off by me punching him hard in the solar plexus, knocking every once of wind out of him. I locked his arm tightly, with just enough force not to shatter it. His friend was whimpering in the corner, tending to his bleeding nose.
"I want to know what happened to Nicholas Rainer. You will tell me that information. Or you will lose your arm. Your choice." I said coldly, I could care less about this little punks life. He had probably raped and murdered wantonly. I had no pity.
"Fuck you." He gasped while trying to regain how to breathe.
"Wrong answer." I exerted enough pressure to make him scream out.
"Last chance. Tell me." I held him with my vice like grip, he was inhaling in pain. I would not tolerate them hiding a murderer.
"Fuck…you…" Terse and pained. He wouldn't let up. So I did the only thing I would do in the situation. I shattered his arm, causing a nice shrill scream and whimpering. I dropped the thug to the ground. His screams of agony.
"I love it when they scream like that. You should kill him for measure…just kill…kill…" My shadow whispered. For once I thought it right and almost unsheathed my sword. But I showed restraint and resisted. I had already given it far too much ground.
"I want you to tell me everything you know about Nicholas Rainer. And I want you to do it now." And the bleeding little bird looked up at the fierce cat, and the bleeding little bird told the cat everything.
***
I almost didn't make it to the apartment in time. I was disguised as Nicholas' lover, the secretary. Everything became a bit clearer. I knocked hesitantly at the door to the luxury apartment. A familiar face opened the door and ushered me in. I looked to Rainer's boss, Harold Gillam. "I put the files on the disks and deleted the originals. Just like you asked." I said meekly.
"Good good. You didn't tell anyone you were coming?" He inquired, looking towards me.
"No, I didn't." I shook my head, wiping a lock of blonde hair out of my eyes. I noticed an unfamiliar man come out of the darkness of the hallway. He had a bulge under his jacket.
"Good. Nicholas did not want to cooperate with me. I'm glad you could. I have extravagant tastes, as you can see. Hiring services." He pointed to the man at his side. "Now all can be forgotten. And a little bonus on the side for you." He smiled like he had won.
"I did notice a weird bar in his rolodex. Is that where you got him from?" I pointed a finger towards the burly man.
"Well, yes. Non descript pub. I told him we would come to a resolution there. It's amazing what you can pay people to do on the fly. Unfortunately we couldn't agree. And it was the perfect place for tying up loose ends." He grinned. The smile of a winner. The burly man stepped forward. So did I. He looked confused.
"Too bad I released the disks to the authorities. Or should I say, Ms. Aimes did. Now…there was something about loose ends." I thought. "Oh yes, you two!"
The form of the secretary washed away like the foam of the sea on the shore. I was a monster from nightmare. My skin was black and I had formed a maw of gaping teeth. My body ripped into an impossible form of muscle. I was the harbinger of vengeance. I unsheathed my blade, and it was stained with the blood of the victimizers. I was the epitome of the vengeance of the wronged. My blade sang through the air, and I felt bullets collided with my chest. But it did nothing, absolutely nothing, to stop the vengeance from being wrought. And vengeance was wrought as it always was. Cold, swift, and bloody.
***
"The bodies of two men were found today in an upscale apartment building late yesterday. Gunshots and screaming were reported. The bodies of the two men were badly mutilated and were identified as Harold Gillam, 32, and Ian Lancaster, 23. Harold Gillam was suspected of embezzling a large amount of money for the company he had worked for. His connection to Mr. Lancaster is as currently being looked into. And on a related note, the pub that Mr. Lancaster has worked at was reported burned to the ground by an early morning fire. No one was hurt, but arson is suspected."
I stood watching the dull glow of the television outside of the electronic store. The slow drizzle had stopped to open up a beautiful morning sky. It was a pity I had to go too. Deirdre stood behind me. "Thank you Adrian. I won't forget this."
I nodded and looked to her. "I know you won't. They're in the shadowlands now."
She nodded. "I know. They're getting what they deserve. To the forges."
I nodded in the warm morning glow of the sun. "Yeah, what most of them deserve. Have you found what out your part of the bargain?" I looked toward her, squinting in the sunlight.
She nodded sullenly. "Yeah, but you won't like it. We have to go back to Stygia." She nodded her head in a direction and walked across the street. I followed into the brightening city. I could feel one emotion I had not felt in a very long time. Hope. There was some chance of recovering who I was, no matter the taste in my mouth. I would finally know what I had lost, and who I was. I could begin all over again. Hell just looked that much brighter.
"Hey, Frank, you find what you were looking for?" The night guard called out to me, stepping inside the room.
My appearance was that of a local cop, fully dressed in uniform, complete with complementary hat. My ability to adjust my spiritual form to almost any being was an asset I took pride in. I had to study Frank a little before concentrating, but once complete I was indistinguishable from the officer himself. "Yeah, thanks Carl. You take it easy." I adjusted my hat and nodded to him, walking out of the precinct into the rainy night.
***
I had secured a room in a rundown motel for the night by fast talking the owner into convincing I would pay him in the morning. Not honest, but I don't want to use my abilities to physically harm people for money. I'm still a cop. I had spread the file around me on the faded carpeting and was sitting cross legged. I could hear the soft pitter patter of the rain hitting the window. I turned my head, not able to focus on the task at hand. How long had I not listened to rain? It scaled down the window in spindly ribbons, merging with other clear drops. The moisture ran down the pane and coalesced at the bottom and the process started over again. The shear clap of thunder turned my head back to the paper suddenly, reminding me of what I was here to do. I actually took a breath. I could not focus on the distractions of the mortal world. To be distracted by what was lost would make me run in an endless circle.
"What about your wife? Is she still around? Maybe you have a daughter or a son? How old are they? You don't know? Poor, poor baby…" The shadow said softly. I took great pains and avoided what it had said.
I scanned over the halo of paper that I had surrounded myself with. The cause of Nicholas' death was blood loss. He was stabbed multiple times and left to bleed out his wounds. A long and painful way for a life to end. The medical examiner's report contained long medical descriptions of angles and arteries, none of which I could make any sense of. I skipped looking over the pictures, putting them facedown in a corner. I passed over the cause of death to what he had on him when he died. A single joker's card stuffed into the breast pocket of his shirt. Under that, Hainsborough had wrote 'The Red Fists'. It was underlined twice with two question marks next to it. The Fists were a powerful and influential gang that held precedence over the worst neighborhoods in the city. One of the few memories I held from my mortal job. What was Nicholas Rainer doing that made him the possible target for a gang hit? I clicked my tongue. It said that he worked as a controller for a small business. That was first on my list of places to visit. Next on my list was one of the Red Fists.
I checked the LED on the cheap clock of the motel clock. The digital red said it was about 2:30 in the morning. I still had awhile to go. Tomorrow I'd be Frank the cop, working his way up to detective. I gathered up the papers and replaced them back into the manila folder. I placed it into my coat and slowly fell to the floor staring at the ceiling. The pitter patter of the rain guided me into meditation. I closed my eyes, and dreamt of nothing.
***
The morning came surprisingly quick; the dim light flowed through the curtains. It looked too dim to be morning. I turned my head to look over at the digital red and it said it was 8:30. I slowly stood up and cracked my neck, the illusory bones cracking. I opened the curtains to a drizzly, hazy morning. The gray clouds blocked most of the sunlight, and the rain coated everything in a dull shine. I pulled myself away from the window and opened the door to the bathroom. My shoes grated against the cheap tile and I looked at myself in the mirror. Green eyes, black hair and a goatee. My skin was light, though not deathly pale like it was in the shadowlands. I looked different…this is what I really had looked like. I was starting to forget. The screech of tires outside the window brought my attention back to reality. I growled angrily and slammed my foot into the trash can, leaving a sizeable dent. I was getting lost in my memory. Sooner or later, I'd get too caught up in it and feel the need to keep coming back. Like an addiction. I had to finish my work and leave, before I became totally swept up in it.
I focused and my body shifted all at once. Green eyes had become blue, black hair had become blonde. My normal clothes shifted into a suit, with a detective's badge in the breast pocket. I checked the folder, still in my coat pocket. I proceeded out of the motel into the rainy street.
***
Getting to the Offices of Edrik & Kessler was hard, but I had made it. I couldn't walk halfway across the city and make it in a necessary amount of time, so I hitched a ride on the cab. It's amazing what the power and threat of using a badge will do. The Lawyers had taken the fourteenth floor in the office building. I couldn't muster the willpower to take the elevator up that far, so I took the flight of stairs up.
Opening the door to the offices, I quickly realized that it was no small paying job. The offices were not cramped, and the plate glass windows gave a good view of the city down below. On good days, light probably cascaded through the windows, illuminating the offices. I proceeded to move up to a secretary's desk, flashing my badge with a smile.
"Hello, my name is detective Frank Cassidy. I'm here investigating a murder. I'd like to talk to the boss of Nicholas Rainer if I could?" I questioned, looking towards her.
She nodded, "Sure. Office number 113."
I nodded in thanks and started to head off before I heard the secretary. "And Frank?"
I turned. "Yeah?"
"Find the bastards that did this."
I nodded to the secretary, "Don't worry. I'll find justice." I didn't mention this time that there would be no trial, and there would be no judge and no jury. Only my undying and unyielding fury as punishment. This was true justice, not a mockery of what it is in the skin lands. All debts are paid.
I knocked twice on the oak door that leads to the boss of Nicholas Rainer's office. He eventually got up and opened the door after awhile. I closed the door, taking a seat across from her. He started to speak before I could.
"How long is this going to take? I have a meeting soon." He moved a pen from her desk along his fingers looking vaguely annoyed and suspicious as well.
"It won't take long." I said, taking out a pad and a pencil I had 'borrowed' from the police station.
"Aren't you curious to know who I am meeting with?" He combed the pencil over her knuckles, looking very confident.
I looked up after getting my pen and pencil out. "No, not really."
"Its another cop. Saying he would be coming by earlier. He just called to confirm it." He leaned forward looking at me, almost through me. "Impersonating a cop is a nice sentence. So why don't you tell me who you are and who you are working for."
Shit. Not what I had planned. Hainsborough wanted to get the small cases out of his way before the gang hits were looked into. He just wasn't organized. Dammit. Think fast, think fast.
"You're gonna get caught! You're gonna get caught! You're gonna get caught!" My shadow spoke. I tried to shut it up.
I threw out a response before my shadow got the best of me. "I'm a PI that's been hired by the family. Don't ask by who, that is confidential."
"Hm. Alright. The cop will be over in a half hour. I expect to see you gone from here in ten minutes. You got me? Or you get a nice sentence. Get out."
I wasted no time in getting up, not bothering to say thank you. I would make it a point to find him when he was dead. Show him how much control that bastard had then.
My shadow spoke again. "Yeah…you could make him dead right now! Dead! All it would take would be a little poke with your sword…" Shut the fuck up. Shut up. Shut up.
I moved back to the secretary. "Look, I need your help." I put a desperate look on my face. I couldn't afford to let any lead go cold. I would find them before the police.
She looked almost bewildered at my sudden move from the office of Rainer's boss to her desk. "I need you to show me where Nicholas' Rainer's desk is."
She sighed, "They moved his desk out. They're in storage. You need a password to get in."
Ten minutes. Damn. I could discorporate my form in an office full of people. "I need you to get me the box. I don't have much time."
"Alright, alright." She shrugged and got up moving to the storage room. I leaned against her desk. The bastard would check. Though I doubted security would a ghost like me, I'd get in a nice amount of trouble for displaying power to escape. I had to be subtle and this was the way to go.
I heard the click of the clock on the wall go by. It had been five minutes. The close of a door. The boss had come to check and was making a beeline straight towards me. I stared out at her, letting out a false sigh wondering where…
The slam of a box on the desk alerted me back to the secretary's presence. I turned and uttered a thank you before snatching the cardboard box by the two cut-out handles and moving hastily towards the elevators doors. Claustrophobia or no claustrophobia I had to do it. I heard the boss call out, and could feel the eyes of workers on me. Luckily someone was getting off the elevator and I pushed passed them, throwing them out onto the lobby floor. I threw them down and frantically pushed the button for the lobby. As the doors closed, the lights of my world went out. That is when hell began.
***
Black was when the elevator doors closed. I couldn't breath. It was so hot. Why wasn't there any air. The brass doors seemed to incline to me closer. There wasn't room! No room! No air, can't breathe! The lights on the elevator numbers flickered and faded into blackness. The lights of the elevator burst and sparks flew. I leaned back in the corner, but there weren't any corners around me just physical space around me. I hammered at the walls and shouted.
There was nothing but cold inky blackness and the feeling that my lungs were breathing sludge. I couldn't move. I couldn't see. And my shadow was there. It was at my ear whispering, whispering. Always whispering. Cold breath. Rot.
"You will be one with me. I have seen it." It whirled from my right ear to my left, whispering. "I am the only way to let you know what has happened. The answer is within you. Embrace nothing, feel the touch of nothing. It's not so bad. Just like empty air. That is what everything will be when we are through. Why don't you join?"
It turned from my left ear to the front of my face. I could smell the rot. I could see it outlined in the darkness. I reached out and touched its face. I saw who my shadow was. Something that was me and that wasn't me. The whispers were my own. I had not seen it until now.
"You know we are right. You see it every time you witness death. Is it not better to have nothing than to have death? To have nothing rather than pain? We are ending a sick world. Don't you see? We are doing a cleansing. Just like when you were a cop. We are just like you. Become one, and it will be over all so quickly. I promise…"
It touched along my cheek affectionately. I grabbed the finger like a child would its mother. And I bent it back to the hand. "Fuck you." It was everything that it promised. It was a cleansing of love. Of compassion of everything that was good. It was not me. And it never would. I would not be broken. Its shrill scream pierced my ears and I screamed with it. And then at that perfect moment, the elevator doors opened.
The workers saw me screaming, huddled down in a corner next to a box. I was in my normal form that I would appear in the shadowlands, no longer a cop. The conflict in the elevator had reverted me back to my normal form. Luckily the police were looking for someone with a different description. I gradually stood up and took the box. I muttered, "I've got extreme claustrophobia."
As I walked to the exit, the elevator doors closed behind me, with my shadow laughing, its oh so joyous laughter, following me down the street.
***
I couldn't have a motel room anymore, so I took up occupancy at a room of the local library. I didn't need to eat or sleep, but this was perfect for idle research. The police, being denied this lead by Frank, would no doubt search his house and get back on the trail. I sifted through the box, mostly business related stuff. Nothing much important until I flipped through his rolodex. There was a number written down for a bar on the seedy side of town. What was a well paid accountant doing with a phone number on the seedy side of town? That I'd find out. I unclipped the number and looked through the box a bit deeper.
I nearly cut my hand on the edge of a picture frame. There were two of them. The first one was of him and his sister. She was smiling in the picture. She looked vibrant, and nothing about the smile was forced. I wondered why she killed herself. Her humanity was there. I even looked to her wrists to see if they were intact. I hummed to myself, leaning back in my chair. I could feel someone behind me. I instantly turned and there she was. "Jesus!" I stood straight up at her. It was one of her fetters. Something she attached herself with to the mortal world. The one picture that she was truly happy in.
"You scare easily, don't you?" She remarked, not bothering to hide her slit wrists. Again, they attracted my eyes.
"Yeah, especially when I'm working on something like this." I adjusted my position.
"Don't look too deeply into me. And that is a request." She circled the table.
"Right, I won't. Don't worry." I gently lay the picture down on the table. She slid her hand over and took it.
"I'm taking your word for it. Don't. I won't let you. Regulations or not. You get me?" She stared at me hard while taking the picture from across the table.
"I don't plan on it. I am keeping my end of the bargain. Are you keeping yours?" I glanced to her.
"Don't worry about me. You see to it that my brother's murderers are killed, and you'll complete your mission."
I nodded, keeping myself wary. "Yeah, and we'll all be a happy bunch."
She nodded, "Yeah. I'm going to find this picture a good home. Finish them, infiltrator." And with a blink she was gone from the room.
I slumped back into my chair. With the police and a wraith riding my ass, it seemed that there was no end. The only reward was the justice that two murders would be ended, and a death would be resolved. That was reward enough. I picked through his belongings and looked at the second picture. It was of him and the secretary. I hummed to myself. The rest of it wasn't worth anything to the investigation. I took the phone number and left the box in the room.
I headed to the librarian and asked to use the phone. She grumbled and gave me a quarter. I moved outside into the still-dull afternoon and called the pub. It was closed. I hung up the phone. I had time. I wandered around, lost in the swirling sea of my mind, and tried to focus on nothing but the silent noise of the city, and not the wailing souls that were just under the surface.
***
The dreary day had become a dreary night, though with harder rain. It was coming down nicely now, running along my skin and through my hair. It felt good. It was the first good feeling I had felt since I had come here. I looked up the blinking neon sign. 'McGregor's Irish Pub'. There probably were dozens more with the same name in the city so I pushed my way in through the door. High drinking time had already begun, I could tell by all the 'happy' faces. I could smell the thick smoke, and it made my eyes water in the dimly lit bar. I approached the tender, who didn't seem too busy.
"I'm looking for information." I said plainly.
"Oh, really?" The tender smirked and leaned forward.
"About a guy named Nick Rainer. You know him?" I nearly had to shout to say it,
He shook his head, grinning at me. "I'm afraid I don't know the name there, boy. Why don't you run along."
I smiled and shook my head, "Listen, I'm not a cop. I'm just looking for information. I can guarantee, whatever you are hiding will stay hid."
"Oh really there, boy? Why don't you get the fuck out of my place." He said, suddenly becoming hostile.
Before I could respond, two men came up to the bar and one patted me on the shoulder. "No, I think we should be giving this nice man some information out back."
The bartender nodded. "Yeah, why don't ye."
Only an idiot wouldn't see where this was going. I didn't resist. I simply smiled and nodded. "Sure, lets go." Only, I was drilled every day of the week in the arts of close combat by the best military minds in history and had fought opponents with no survival instinct. Had they? No. They hadn't.
They smiled as if they were trying to be convincing. I let them lead me out of there rather forcefully, throwing me hard against the fence. I came back quick. "So that's how its gonna be?" I asked with a smile.
"Yeah, that's how its gonna be." He threw a punch, I let it hit me. I reeled, wiping blood from my lip.
"You know the first one's free. You get one too." I pointed at the other man. He looked at his friend as if I was serious. He readied a punch and instead kicked me in the groin. I didn't even breath a little as he kicked me. I had no need for the organs down there.
"Now, its my turn." They both realized something was wrong then, but they had no chance to react. I grabbed the head of the one who had just kicked me and brought it hard against my knee. This sprung his friend into action.
He threw a punch which I deftly dodged, and then he threw another that I dodge again. I laughed and backhanded him hard across the face, to knock out a tooth. He screamed, but it was cut off by me punching him hard in the solar plexus, knocking every once of wind out of him. I locked his arm tightly, with just enough force not to shatter it. His friend was whimpering in the corner, tending to his bleeding nose.
"I want to know what happened to Nicholas Rainer. You will tell me that information. Or you will lose your arm. Your choice." I said coldly, I could care less about this little punks life. He had probably raped and murdered wantonly. I had no pity.
"Fuck you." He gasped while trying to regain how to breathe.
"Wrong answer." I exerted enough pressure to make him scream out.
"Last chance. Tell me." I held him with my vice like grip, he was inhaling in pain. I would not tolerate them hiding a murderer.
"Fuck…you…" Terse and pained. He wouldn't let up. So I did the only thing I would do in the situation. I shattered his arm, causing a nice shrill scream and whimpering. I dropped the thug to the ground. His screams of agony.
"I love it when they scream like that. You should kill him for measure…just kill…kill…" My shadow whispered. For once I thought it right and almost unsheathed my sword. But I showed restraint and resisted. I had already given it far too much ground.
"I want you to tell me everything you know about Nicholas Rainer. And I want you to do it now." And the bleeding little bird looked up at the fierce cat, and the bleeding little bird told the cat everything.
***
I almost didn't make it to the apartment in time. I was disguised as Nicholas' lover, the secretary. Everything became a bit clearer. I knocked hesitantly at the door to the luxury apartment. A familiar face opened the door and ushered me in. I looked to Rainer's boss, Harold Gillam. "I put the files on the disks and deleted the originals. Just like you asked." I said meekly.
"Good good. You didn't tell anyone you were coming?" He inquired, looking towards me.
"No, I didn't." I shook my head, wiping a lock of blonde hair out of my eyes. I noticed an unfamiliar man come out of the darkness of the hallway. He had a bulge under his jacket.
"Good. Nicholas did not want to cooperate with me. I'm glad you could. I have extravagant tastes, as you can see. Hiring services." He pointed to the man at his side. "Now all can be forgotten. And a little bonus on the side for you." He smiled like he had won.
"I did notice a weird bar in his rolodex. Is that where you got him from?" I pointed a finger towards the burly man.
"Well, yes. Non descript pub. I told him we would come to a resolution there. It's amazing what you can pay people to do on the fly. Unfortunately we couldn't agree. And it was the perfect place for tying up loose ends." He grinned. The smile of a winner. The burly man stepped forward. So did I. He looked confused.
"Too bad I released the disks to the authorities. Or should I say, Ms. Aimes did. Now…there was something about loose ends." I thought. "Oh yes, you two!"
The form of the secretary washed away like the foam of the sea on the shore. I was a monster from nightmare. My skin was black and I had formed a maw of gaping teeth. My body ripped into an impossible form of muscle. I was the harbinger of vengeance. I unsheathed my blade, and it was stained with the blood of the victimizers. I was the epitome of the vengeance of the wronged. My blade sang through the air, and I felt bullets collided with my chest. But it did nothing, absolutely nothing, to stop the vengeance from being wrought. And vengeance was wrought as it always was. Cold, swift, and bloody.
***
"The bodies of two men were found today in an upscale apartment building late yesterday. Gunshots and screaming were reported. The bodies of the two men were badly mutilated and were identified as Harold Gillam, 32, and Ian Lancaster, 23. Harold Gillam was suspected of embezzling a large amount of money for the company he had worked for. His connection to Mr. Lancaster is as currently being looked into. And on a related note, the pub that Mr. Lancaster has worked at was reported burned to the ground by an early morning fire. No one was hurt, but arson is suspected."
I stood watching the dull glow of the television outside of the electronic store. The slow drizzle had stopped to open up a beautiful morning sky. It was a pity I had to go too. Deirdre stood behind me. "Thank you Adrian. I won't forget this."
I nodded and looked to her. "I know you won't. They're in the shadowlands now."
She nodded. "I know. They're getting what they deserve. To the forges."
I nodded in the warm morning glow of the sun. "Yeah, what most of them deserve. Have you found what out your part of the bargain?" I looked toward her, squinting in the sunlight.
She nodded sullenly. "Yeah, but you won't like it. We have to go back to Stygia." She nodded her head in a direction and walked across the street. I followed into the brightening city. I could feel one emotion I had not felt in a very long time. Hope. There was some chance of recovering who I was, no matter the taste in my mouth. I would finally know what I had lost, and who I was. I could begin all over again. Hell just looked that much brighter.