Severin looked about the old town, he hadn’t been paying much attention where he drifted to. It didn’t really matter. He was dead. His form whisped in the wind and he took in a deep breath.. or.. he would have, if he was alive. He sighed and floated along, above the street lights where he wouldn’t be noticed. He didn’t like scaring the wrong people. He felt another ghost in the area, and had half a mind to go check it out, but decided against it. Most ghosts were just stuck in their last feelings, and it was really irritating to try and have a conversation with someone who “just wanted to get home”, or “Couldn’t stand that stupid man anymore”. He rolled his eyes at his thoughts and kept floating.

Michael strode into the Central District with a charming grin, catching the attention of many women who were passing by. The sun had gone down, and Michael was ready to do something fun. Crime, fights, sex, it didn’t matter. Anything suited him, as long as it was lathered with good time, he was up for it. Walking into a bar he scanned out the crowd looking for someone to feed off of before the true fun began.

It was dark when Zoe left the Industrial District heading towards Central. She drank a few cups of dark coffee before she went, to keep herself up to find a vampire. She wanted the euphoria, the high. She had been dying for it since she woke up this morning, if she truly fell asleep last night, which was doubtful. The addiction was getting out of control, it got her minimal sleep and her job performance was deteriorating. But how could she stop? The feeling, the sensations were to much to give up.

• This reply was modified 111 days ago by  Moose.

Neon lights were flickering on in the Central District. Not that they were ever turned off, but their light was dulled by the day in a way that made everything seem graytoned. But now, with the set of twilight, the city was starting to buzz to life; Alyesha could feel it. She went to the front door of the Golden Lotus and propped it open, inviting customers inside. The scent of her shop wafted out into the streets – alcohol, smoke, cheap perfume, and darker, unearthly scents – just as the carnal smells of the District came in to greet Alyesha. She breathed it in deeply. Time for business.

Elizabeth looked up, “A ghost, you say?” She grinned, leaning back and crossed her legs, “No, I can’t say I have, werewolf.” She giggled, raking her eyes over Tristan. He was adorable, definitely worth her time. Elizabeth smirked, but couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose in distaste at the revolting smell of his blood. “You got a name, furball?” She asked flirtatiously.

“Elizabeth Buquet.” She replied, leaning forward and placing her elbows on the table. She wiggled her fingers in a little wave at Diego, “You must be the ghost he was referring to. Hello there.” Elizabeth grinned and eyed them both, “I can’t say that I recognize you two. You new here? Or have I just managed to forget your handsome faces?” She giggled again.

“Mopey, is he?” Elizabeth mused, a delighted little smirk on her lips, “Poor little puppy. I’m sure I could find something to cheer you up.” She returned her gaze to Diego, “You certainly seem nice. And if you look in the shadier parts of the city, you’re bound to find me somewhere.” She gave a little wink and looked around the bar, drumming her fingers against her chin.

Elizabeth pouted, “Aw, so harsh. I was only teasing.” She leaned back with a sigh, running her fingers through her hair, “The light and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye. And besides, the dark is so much more exciting.” She giggled and debated on leaving to find some trouble to get into. “Do you boys feel like taking a walk with me? I’m afraid the bar is terribly dull this evening.”

The slam of the Volvo’s door nearly drowned in dozens of other noises. The sun had only just set, but already the Central District buzzed with people, many of whom were dressed quite a bit too scantily for an early October evening. The warmth of summer had reached well into the fall, but now the temperatures had dropped, and winter felt too close for comfort.

With one hand feeling for the silver cross, which he’d borrowed from his wife’s nigtstand, around his neck, Hank stepped onto the sidewalk. He pulled his coat closer around him and shivered, only in part because of the chilly air. Everyone knew the Central District was home to vamp bars and God knew what else, and although he’d often stepped foot in one of the bars for a beer after work, he’d never been in this particular part of the district. Neon lights flickered with a lazy glow, and he could smell not only beer and liquor, but also sweat and something metallic in the air.

Hank double-checked the adress scrawled on a Post-It. The place should be around where he was… Ah! A sign and an open door advertised that the Golden Lotus was open for business. He stepped inside, his face flushing from the higher temperature. No one was to be seen. The place looked like a liquor store—that wasn’t what he was after.

He knocked on the doorframe. “Hello? Is anybody here?”

Elizabeth grinned, her fangs showing slightly. She stood to her feet, straightening her dress slightly before sauntering outside. She inhaled, taking in the strong smell of the Centrail District. A mix of alcohol, magic and the delicious smell of human blood. It all nearly made Elizabeth’s mouth water. She turned to her new companions, “Where to, boys?”

• This reply was modified 110 days ago by  Sheridyn.

Alyesha came through the back of the shop with a client. “I’ll see you next week, Mr. Matthews,” she said, bidding him out the door. The poor man came weekly to talk to his dead wife. Alyesha almost found it disgusting, really, but he was loaded, and it couldn’t be helped. As Matthews left, Alyesha became aware of a new customer in her shop. A man, middle aged; not a usual customer. She became immediately suspicious – cops had tried to infiltrate her shop before, with little success. But you could never be sure – sometimes it was just a friend of a friend that had recommended her shop. Taking her place behind the counter, she smiled at the stranger. “Good evening, sir. What can I help you with?”

Diego shot Tristan a smirk and followed, catching up to walk next to her. “So, Elizabeth. Do you often invite random strangers to take walks with you or are we special?”

Tristan sighed and followed, hands in his pocket.s

A woman came out from the back room with a man who looked obviously relieved and somewhat teary-eyed. Was this woman also a prostitute? She certainly wasn’t bad-looking, but a quick lay wasn’t exactly what Hank was after. His sex life wasn’t the most active, but overall he couldn’t complain. He’d heard horror stories from his colleagues, and was silently glad that Sarah wasn’t completely frigid. Before answering her question, he looked around for any cameras. Prostitute or witch, both were illegal, and the last thing Hank needed was dirt on his record.

He leaned forwards a little bit, cheeks flushing. “This looks like a respectable establishment, and I’m sure it is, but I, uh…” he lowered his voice. “I was told that you might provide… other, uh, services?”

Diego smiled flirtatiously, but Tristan just rolled his eyes. “If by special you mean gorgeous, then yes. Very special. But if you mean that you’re special because you caught his attention,t hen I apologize. He does this sort of thing with all the pretty girls.” Diego looked mortified, going invisible a bit.

Tristan raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I know.”

Diego shook his head and mumbled in what sounded like another language. Tristan rolled his eyes. “Really, Diego…”

Severin started to throw things around on the roof, bored. He floated around, tossing things. He grew bored. As the Vampire passed by the building, with the other two, something struck him. Something wasn’t right. Perhaps he could bother some vampires or a werewolf or two. Maybe find some old costumers… He followed the group, invisible for now. Maybe the vampire girl would lead him to someone, or maybe even the werewolf. If not, then he’d have to find someone who did. Chills don’t go up a ghosts spine, they don’t have one, so why in the world was a GHOST so un nerved.

Severin became visible at his being noticed, as there was no point in hiding after the ghost pointed him out. He let out a slightly sadistic chuckle, “Well, it seems you’re able to detect others better then I thought you would..” He stepped forward, wishing he could feel the ground beneath his feet, coming up next to the group, “And who might all of you be?” he figured if he recognized some names, maybe he’d get somewhere..

Severin would have twitched if he was alive. Elizabeth? “Elizabeth Buquet,” he laughed, “I recall you buying a pistol from me not a month before I was killed..” he said, turning to her, “Severin Wörner,” he bowed, “a pleasure to see you again – Though I know your not fond of ghosts.”

Diego tapped her on the shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Intangible? Oh really?”

Tristan sighed.

“Oh, how fortunate.” Elizabeth said to Diego, laughing, “I stand corrected.” She returned her gaze to Severin, “It’s a bit of a long story, but I got what I wanted out of it.” She let out an almost sadistic laugh.

“If you’re talking about Rousseau,” Elizabeth began with a sigh, “He’s dead.” Her expression hardened, and her eyes lost their playful look.

Hank noticed her gaze and quickly pocketed the note.

“He uh, he said it might be better if I didn’t reveal who was… sharing information about this place, if that’s all right.” In truth, Jerry from work had said no such thing. But if this woman didn’t know who had referred Hank to her, chances were it wouldn’t come back and bite him in the ass later on. The last thing he needed was Sarah finding out about this.

“My name is Otto Grover. I was told that you might be an, um,” He looked around once more, “A witch?”

Rowan sighed and scratched absentmindedly at his stubbly cheek. He’d been working for 10 straight hours, and amassed an impressive pile of mugshots and personal files around his desk. The one clenched in his hand at the moment belonged to a man named Sabine, who had long matted hair down to his waist and an eye missing. He had been arrested last week on suspicion of practicing the forbidden art of voodoo and thrown in jail.
“Monsieur DuPont?” A female voice ringing out from the other room roused him from his thoughts. “Rowan?”
He sat up straight and stretched until his back popped. “What is it?”
“Monsieur, we have Detective Casey on the line. She’s asking for the chief.” Rowan’s receptionist, Alice said as she appeared in the doorway.
“They always ask for the chief, when they know full well they aren’t getting him. Tell Casey I’ll handle it.” Rowan stood up and charged out of the office, his old trench coat flapping behind him.
“Oui, monsieur. Head for the Central District.” Alice told the Inquisitor, shooting him a tired smile. “I shall try and speak to Stroud. He has not left his office in days…”

****

After a twenty minute car journey, Supernatural Inquisitor Rowan DuPont showed up in the back alley behind one of the hole-in-the-wall bars in the Central District. Red tape had been set up around the area and it was being guarded from view by lesser constables. “‘Scuse me, is Detective Casey on hand?” He asked politely.

Before the officer could answer, a woman with masses of curly red hair stepped into view. “Of course I am. Come on, DuPont, we’ve been waiting.”
“Nice to see you too, Jacqueline.” Rowan grumbled as he followed her towards the crime scene.
“Not the time, Rowan. This one’s big. Vaud activity.” Detective Casey explained, pointing at the body still on the scene. It was a male corpse, with it’s face burned beyond recognition.
“Is it? I know Homicide is short on officers, Jacq, but this doesn’t look like anything to do with- holy SHIT.” He recoiled as the body was rolled onto it’s stomach. The man’s back had been carved with symbols in sets of twelve, almost like the face of a clock. Rowan then began to pick up other obvious signs: the chalk on the floor, the charred remains of some unfortunate animal, and the shimmering black raven feathers haphazardly bundled nearby.
“Believe me now? I thought it might have been Sabine, but your receptionist told me that monster’d been put away last week.” Jacqueline said, looking grim.
Rowan ignored her, and began sweeping the area again. “Shit… right, I’m gonna look around the area surrounding the club. Maybe somebody saw something? Jacq, if you or your men find something, for the love of god, page me.”

Severin sighed, “That is.. unfortunate..” he looked back up, this time to Tristen, “Werewolf, have you heard anything? It’s my understanding that some werewolves seem to fawn after Vampires, so I’m just wondering..” He didn’t mean to offend him, but in truth he didn’t really care if he had or not. He was just looking for answers.

Hank had watched in silence as the witch—vaud, apparently—concocted whatever a “Bloody Mary” was. It was completely clear by now that this was no normal liquor store. His armpits were positively damp now. He could almost smell whatever weird magic this woman. “Now,” she said, “where were we?”

Hank swallowed and heard an audible click in his throat. “Is there maybe somewhere a little more—private—that we can go? I don’t mean to be rude, but this isn’t exactly legal.” The customer who’d bought the Bloody Mary had been in and out in a matter of minutes, and he hadn’t hidden anything, but Hank didn’t want to take any chances.