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A man sat in the gathering gloom as dusk began to sweep over the city of Lost Haven. The café had lights on and in truth it really wasn’t gloomy in appearance, there were twining ropes of light that seemed to have been intended to resemble vines and even though it was chilly there were a few other patrons of the café nursing drinks or eating a meal at the outdoor tables. 

The man held a paper up in front of his face as steam wafted up from a cup of coffee that was set in front of him. The outside of the paper displayed a headline that read “Nightmare Killer To Strike Again?” and the man had a slight smile on his face as he perused the paper. The man wore a beaten up coat that had clearly seen better days, and his face while of uncertain age possessed a certain weathered look that spoke of experience. Dark blue eyes, so deep as to be almost black were set beneath heavy brows and set in a face that was ruddy and looked like he had a few too many drinks. His hands were scarred and weathered as well, seemingly those of a man who had spent years using them. 

As the man’s focus was on the paper it appeared that the approach of another had been unnoticed until that person slipped into the seat opposite at the table. 

“A penny for your thoughts?” The newcomer asked with a feminine voice laced with an English accent. 

“I suspect the paper’s claims of the three day pattern are right.” The man said and lowered the paper down to reveal who it was that had joined him at the table. A woman sat there now, and the first thoughts on who have upon seeing her face was likely one of awe at beauty and then a moment later noticing how the two sides didn’t quite match. Raven black hair framed a face that could have been the face of a doll; no blemishes adorned the perfect milk-white skin, and there were no apparent flaws in the structure. But the left half of her face aside from her eye seemed to be frozen in a bemused expression, and where her right eye was a brilliant gold, her left was dark, almost black in color. Unlike the man her coat was clearly of fine make, expensive and quite likely genuine leather. “And that it has been too long old friend.” The man finished and took the woman’s left hand with one of his own. “How long has it been now?

“Far too long.” Was the answer as the woman half smiled it was the most that she could really do with only half her face able to move. “I do think you could have been more discrete. You could always have sent a card.” And at that comment both the man and the woman with the half frozen face laughed. 

The man let go of her hand and raised the coffee cup, sipping at the warm liquid as a waiter came over. “Just water.” The woman preempted the query and the waiter backed away with a nod. “So what do I call you this time?” 

“Jack.” He replied simply as he put the coffee back down on the table. 

“A fine choice and fitting too. But perhaps a bit tired? Or was it the name?” 

“The name.” came as his reply before he asked his own question. “And you?”

“Helen.” 

And as she said the name the man laughed long and loud, loudly enough to turn a few heads in his direction for the briefest moment. “And you said mine was tired. Do you plan to launch a thousand ships again?”

“You know it was only 867, and that only half of them were really seaworthy.” She pointed out in return but then laughed herself. 

“I have missed you.” Was the man’s reply and there was a genuine smile on his face, an expression that seemed decidedly out of place on the weathered and naturally gloomy seeming face. 

“We did keep missing each other.” Helen replied with an unhappy expression of her own. “Just bad luck. We were due for this. Let’s make this one last.” She finished and then as if she had forgotten started up again. “By the way a mutual friend should be here in time for the next set. And he’s rather miffed, apparently some fool villain took his go to name.”

“It will do him good to be creative for once.”

“Perhaps it will. I picked one out. How does Soulfire sound?” The woman asked, with the half of her face that could smile shaped into one.
“It sounds grand. And tonight shall be your night.” And at that point the waiter returned with the woman’s water.
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And in the darkness a monster still prowled. STRIKE’s efforts continued to have been in vain and the efforts of more visible agencies had also had very little success. Even the fact that the brutal murderer had struck three times in a pattern had not been enough to make the city stop its nightlife. As a result despite the increased police presence and the fact that STRIKE patrols, as well as the occasional hero were out in force in the city there were still places that were not covered and it was one such place that was about to feel the wrath of the monster in the night. 

The rave was going strong in the night, loud music blaring and several hundred people packed tightly into a warehouse that could barely hold them. No one there was worried; the attacks had all taken place in small group settings, a home, a car in a dark street, a woman who walked down the wrong dark alley, surely such a large group was safe. Of course they were to be proven incorrect in that assumption. The first sign that something was wrong came when a scream sounded outside of the building, but with the music so loud and blaring, and with the people inside making so much noise themselves the scream of the bouncer went completely unnoticed. 

Then the doorway was broken and a man was sent flying through it, or at least the top half of a man was sent flying inwards through it. Behind the man’s corpse came a visible and creeping darkness that crept inwards slowly, herding people away from the one unlocked entrance. 

Albert Johnson admitted that he had panicked when the bouncer’s body had suddenly been thrown into the middle of the crowd and the darkness had erupted from the doorway to start to pour into the room. He wasn’t certain but his guess was that it was something to do with this Nightmare and what he had heard was completely terrifying. Fortunately he thought quickly on his feet. There would be a way to escape, sure the other doors were locked but the guard would have had the keys and there was a chance he would still have them on his body. 

Albert didn’t really think there was any other option, especially as he watched a man who tried to run through the shadows be thrown back out in little pieces like so much confetti. And so shoving his way through hysterical and screaming people who were scrambling towards the locked doors he attempted to make his way to the half of the man. He had reached it and was thanking a god who he rarely believed in for his luck as the darkness continued to spread when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m afraid you can’t let them all out.” The voice was slightly accented and sounded like the speaker was enjoying herself in the terror of the situation. Albert turned around and looked at the person who was speaking. The woman was wearing a costume of some kind, a large pointed cone of a hat, half gold and half black was set atop her head and from the sides came a neck guard of fabric that flowed downward, the left half of her face was covered by a black mask of metal and the right half was covered by a golden veil. Two long streamers, one gold from her right side and one black from her left side hung down her back, the chest of the costume seemed to be armored with thin scales of metal under a layer of fabric that still managed to cling tightly to a generous figure. Her lower body was covered by what seemed to be a long skirt like garment that went down past her knees made of the same sort of armored fabric as the top part of the costume. Both of her hands were left free.

 He cast a worried glance as the shadows that were drawing closer and the terrible gurgling screams continued to sound every time they shadows closed around another of the people in the crowd who couldn’t push far enough away. That glance was the last he got as a hand gently brushed against his face and then he burst into flames. “Nothing personal.” The woman said as she laughed and fire lashed out around her in a storm, white fire that seemed to cause those struck by it to simply flicker out of existence.

And from the shadows came an answering laugh, deep and inhuman as the darkness poured forwards, no longer slowly creeping but sweeping through the warehouse like a flood of death.