Early the next morning, she drug herself out of bed to the tune of the DVD'S selection screen that she allowed to loop as she brushed her teeth and pinned back the front of her hair, it's curls tickling her cheeks too much for her nerves. She dressed quickly, pulling on one of the new t-shirts and a pair of jeans before she headed downstairs towards the kitchen. She quickly ate a breakfast of jam and toast before she gathered herself to return to the scene of the latest crime against polite society. As soon as she walked out the door, her stomach began to sink. She was anxious to get back to work and distract herself from all this mess, her gaze lingering on the curbsides that she'd stepped down the night before, and missing the click of shoes beside hers. As soon as she made her way into the non-central hub the cafe sat in, the streets became crowded and frantic. Bodies pushed past her, rushing down the street towards a gathering crowd. In her distracted shuffling through the chaos, she ran face first into something solid and scaled. They spun around for a second, the other person grappling to keep her upright with an annoyed hiss before she was able to right herself and look her obstacle in the eye.
"Cyrus?"
The reptile demon stumbled back, quickly removing his hands from her and stumbling backwards. He looked tired, his normal pressed white button up ruffled underneath a leather duster. His words hissed together with his accent more than usual in an odd clash of noise as he spoke.
"Oh, uh, hey. I was-s-s, uh, comin' tuh get ya'. I'm gonna clos-s-se up s-s-shop for today, there was...an incident around the corner, jus-s-st on the edge of the Cannibal Colony and it's-s-s got the entire neighborhood riled up. After las-s-st night...well, I don't really wanna' make you work through that."
Clover's heart sank. This was the exact opposite of what she wanted to happen, she worked through her problems better while busy than when alone. At the hotel, Angel Dust wouldn't wake up until the early hours of the morning, Husker was the same, Vaggie and Charlie would be busy doing "hotel business" until at least dinner time, Niffty kept herself busy, and Alastor...well, Alastor was a wild card. Being at the cafe would have kept her from going over the events of yesterday until it drove her to panic, from reliving the small terror of being accosted by another demon to her odd conversation and growing infatuation with Alastor, it was best that she didn't think about it at all.
Now, that wasn't an option. Instead, she had to sit with this for the rest of the day and possibly the next. The information didn't sit right with her, this wasn't enough for her to have to deal with her own tortuous existence for the rest of the day. Besides, it all seemed suspicious. Clover made a decision.
"I wanna go see."
"What? Kid, it's pretty grues-s-some stuff, I mean-"
"So? If it's gonna close us down for the day I might as well get a little exercise. I walk around there everyday, how bad could it be?"
She didn't give Cyrus a chance to argue with her, she pushed past and headed into the direction of the cluster of demons. If anything drew a crowd, it was a fire or a gruesome accident, even in hell. Finally thankful for her smaller stature, Clover maneuvered her way toward the front by tucking under the elbows of taller demons and weaving between extra long legs.
What she saw when she reached the front, she wasn't fully prepared for.
It was carnage.
Blood was absolutely coating the brick wall and the street below, spattering across nearby windows in intricate patterns that only came with the swing of a knife. Clover mildly chuckled at the thought, knowing she indulged in far more true crime than was probably healthy when she was alive. There was very little left of the victim, just the furry head of whoever it had been, matted with blood and the eyes covered by a red…
A red bandana.
Oh.
Clover's heart jumped into her throat, held back from being destroyed by grinding teeth by the sharp intake of breath that joined the soft chattering around her. The head lying in front of her was recognizable, the teeth set into the slack jaw, the bloodstained fur, and the bandana that had been ceremoniously tied around his eyes. It was the hyena demon that had assaulted her the day before, well, what was left of him at least. The blood that now nearly stained the white toes of her sneakers had once run hot under hands that had grasped at her skin, and Clover resisted the urge to grind the gore into the asphalt below herself.
One last look at the scene gave her no further indication on what had happened to the creature, the blood splatters theatrical and precise enough to distract most. No footsteps led away from the site, nothing was left behind save for the decapitated bastard's remains. She ducked back into the crowd, feeling herself get the least bit queasy as she turned away. Cyrus was waiting for her on the other side, pacing a few feet from the crowd and flicking his forked tongue anxiously. He visibly relaxed as she appeared, his shoulders dropping for a second before he stormed towards her.
"Are you s-s-satistfied?"
"Yea, I am. If I didn't know it would have bothered me the entire day."
"...You're a weird gal, Clover. But, whateva' you s-s-say."
"I prefer 'peculiar woman', thanks."
"Fine, you're...that. Anyways, s-s-since you walked all the way ova' here and we're not goin' in today, I'm gonna' go ahead and give you this-s-s."
A white envelope was shoved unceremoniously into her hands, so quickly she almost dropped it. Clover flicked it open quickly, looking around to make sure no-one was watching beforehand.
"What the fuck, Cyrus?"
Inside was far more money than she could have possibly accrued in the short time she'd worked for him. Her outburst drew a hiss from him, his hands quickly covering hers and folding the envelope shut before shoving her hands towards her pocket.
"Why are you so fuckin' loud? Can't you just take your paycheck like anyone else?"
"Not when I've barely worked two-weeks and this is easily enough to buy a fucking condo in whatever hell's version of Miami is."
"Can you just take some fuckin' charity with grace, pleas-s-se?"
"...I swear to god if you've somehow involved me with some hell-legal bullshi-"
"Lis-s-ten, I have more time for more, uh, lucrative busines-s-s since you've been helpin', you've never touched it, I promis-s-se."
"Will you just tell me if it's drugs or something I'm gonna want to slap you harder for?"
"You have no faith in me."
"Cyrus."
The reptile sighed, running a hand through thick sandy hair before shoving his hands into his pockets.
"It's drugs-s-s, okay. Opium, weed, the natural stuff, none of that laced shit either."
Clover laughed, shaking her head at her ability to get herself into places that cause her trouble without even trying. A moment's silence gave her time to think, the idle chatter of the rubberneckers behind her dulling to soft background static as she found the words to say.
"...I've never touched it?"
"No, and you never will. You workin' is just makin' coffee, promise."
"And you're paying me 'cause…"
"Cause I wouldn't be able to do it without you."
She knew stubborn when she saw it, and lately she was far more familiar with it than she ever had been before. There was no other choice but to cave, folding the envelope and shoving it into her pocket. Cyrus seemed satisfied with the motion, glancing over her shoulder before taking a step backwards and hissing out the last words.
"Go home."
Now alone on the street, Clover was frozen with indecision. She could do as he said and head back to the hotel, but why? She would just spend the day alone, shuffling through this world's online media or wandering around the hotel. Experimenting in the kitchen was also an option, She hadn't cooked since she's landed, but that meant she would have to either raid the fridge for whatever ingredients the hotel kept stocked or go on a shopping excursion by herself. Either way, Clover had time to kill.
So, she did what she did at times like this.
She started walking.
Avoiding the crowd was easier the closer she got to the Cannibal Colony, passing the dark windows of the coffee shop and heading further towards the busier part of town. Stopping across the street to wait on the crosswalk, she noticed the bloody footprints she was leaving behind her. A perfect imprint of the soles trailed from where she had stepped in a stray splatter of gore, following her to where she now stood. She couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous her death had become, grinding her feet into the ground beneath her to rid herself of the breadcrumb trail she would leave behind.
A third print caught her eye, the dark color of dried blood standing out against the concrete beside her fresher, red prints. It took her a moment to decipher it, her head spinning slightly at the urban Rorschach test before the imprint became familiar to her.
Beside the criss cross pattern of her tennis shoes, was a deer hoof.