[center][h2][u]Scene 1, Minor Arc 1: Sheep’s Clothing [/u][/h2][/center] Location: Loom’s Slums, heading to Club Ambrosia Time: 3 AM [hr] What in the hell was she doing here? Hazel Cairns, a freelance accountant for New Century Medical, asked herself. Most of her life consisted of paperwork, sitting in a pretty little office and number crunching all day. Not wandering around so damn early in morning, looking for a Club. Especially to add a little ‘risk’ to her life. Nervously she curled one of her cropped bangs behind her ear. For a moment it wrapped about, but she knew it wouldn’t stick. It rarely did. Her hand reached to tug down her skin tight, black dress to a more modest position on her thighs. Formal office attire were her normal after all so she even wondered if she was walking in it right. She dreaded when she didn’t have the overlapping trench coat to spare her embarrassment. Trying to not think about how much skin was exposed, the woman turned her brown eyes down to the clutched and crumbled paper in her hand. The wrinkles broke along the written lines causing them to be hard to read. She bit her lip, hesitation sliced through her confidence. Like a knife through butter. She thought visiting Club Ambrosia might’ve been a good idea, but now she questioned her sanity. Was this risk really worth the anxiety? It was too late to turn back as she followed the street names carefully. Occasionally her eyes thought she caught sight of something shifting quietly in the shadows, the crevices holding hidden dangers. Like a living thing mocking her. Hazel swallowed her fear and pressed on. She increased her pace slightly, driven by slight discomfort, as her heel stomped into the nearest puddle. Water splashed back across her calf with a fresh chill. The rain continued to pour around her while clouds silently menaced down upon her. When she reached another pale, illuminating lamp, she looked at her instructions again. Something wasn’t right. Hazel squinted at the poorly lite sign then frowned. Instinctively her figure turned about, and tried to retrace her steps back. “SOMEONE HELP ME, PLEASE!” A scream broke through the air. From the alley’s other side, a bloodied and panicked woman bolted into view. Hazel’s head jerked backwards to see the blonde stumble. Her front was covered in red, blood leaking from a wound along her neck. What remained of a blouse and slack were shredded and barely hung on her. Upon spotting Hazel, the woman managed to shout out again. “Please, please. Help me.” The last of her energy collected, the blonde rushed forward. Again, she crumbled just a foot from Hazel’s position and panted loudly. Her skin was pale and trembling while she held herself, the air’s chill not helping. Cautiously Hazel bent down to examine the woman. At her touch, the woman flinched then jerked. Hazel frowned, wondering if she had stumbled upon some sexually assaulted victim. Her mind recalled the recent newspaper articles where women had been mysteriously gone missing for a few days then turned up randomly. Shortly after, they fell into a coma without any medical reason causing companies like New Century Medical to spend notable amounts in finding out why. Unable to leave the woman, Hazel kneed down to eye level, “Hey, hey. What happened?” “I don’t… don’t know,” the woman sniffled, her arms clenched tightly about her. Hazel was sure she wasn’t going to get anything else out of her as she pulled off her coat, then gently wrapped it about the woman. Slowly she managed to get the blond to stand on her feet. With her other hand, Hazel pulled out her cellphone. She pressed 911 with her thumb only to hear the blaring rejection of having no signal. Biting her lower lip, she snapped it back shut then pocketed it. She adjusted the blonde against her shoulder before edging toward the exit. “We’ll get you somewhere safe-” A deep, guttural growl echoed behind them. Both women stopped in their tracks, paralyzed by fear of the unknown. Cautiously Hazel turned her head over her shoulder to glimpse a large, biped shadow snarling from the shadows. The blonde whimpers then leaned her head into Hazel’s shoulder. “Please, god please protect me. It found me…” [center][h2][u]Mistakes were Made[/u][/h2][/center] Location: Holly’s Apartment Time: 3 AM [hr] The man… or whatever he was, grinned at her. His lips curled nearly beyond his face’s limits causing her stomach to curdle. Each little tooth neatly and all too perfectly fits into place. His head tilted to the side at an odd angle as he seemed rather pleased to see her. Long arms hung unnaturally past the knees with even longer fingers narrowed into wicked claws. The pale light from Loom’s active city life slipped in through the window, shedding faint highlights across his black skin. “My, you smell…delicious,” he…it whispered. What unnerved Holly most was the fact he got in here undetected, not even using the door. Her eyes shifted to the left recalling where she kept her gun and coat. As if reading her intentions, the man’s grin vanished. “Now, that’s not very nice.” Without a second thought, Holly bolted for her gun. Her arm reached for the holster just when four long fingers wrapped around her wrist. She felt it jerked back causing her to inwardly winch from the force. The grin returned as his arm whipped backward, sending her flying across the room. Holly screamed when her back smacked into sofa’s back causing it to flip over. [center][h2][u]Scene 2, Minor Arc 1: Sheep’s Clothing [/u][/h2][/center] Location: Loom’s Slums, Alleyway to Club Ambrosia Time: 4-6 AM [hr] Hazel’s milky eyes stared at the far wall. Her head was bent at an angle and leaned against her shoulder, exposed by the lack of her trench coat. All color seemed to have drained from her skin giving it a grey undertone to it. Flies buzzed and crawled along her curves as they tasted her corpse. Blood clotted near the side of her dress, centered on the four jagged wounds across her side. The flesh was pushed aside to reveal pieces of organs had been torn free as more white, wiggling worms were scattered across the surface.