[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/J2p1lxg.png[/img] [b][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBRCvVpknvg]Sleep Walk Chapter 1[/url][/b][/center] [b]New York City[/b] [b]January 1937[/b] Dian Belmont knew she shouldn’t be here. The city morgue this time of night was no place for a girl like her. But... she just had to see it for herself. She had never really figured out why she was like this. Maybe it was being the only child raised by an NYPD detective? Her mother had died at an early age, so it was just her and her father for most of her life. Whereas some widowers turned their girls into tomboys, Larry Belmont had turned his daughter into a certified crime addict. She loved reading the crime stuff in the papers, and would always race to the newsstands to get the latest issues of [i]Black Mask [/i]and [i]Thrilling Detective. [/i]Those stories, both real and fictional, of brave detectives, slimy criminals, and deadly femme fatales could only satisfy her needs so much. It was why she was here tonight. She just had to see the bodies for herself. Her father had been home for only about an hour, long enough to only enjoy dinner really, before being called back out into the streets. It seemed as if there was another victim of the poisoner. This marked the fourth person to die of very violent and mysterious circumstances. Like all the others he had dropped dead in the street. The only thing that let the police know it was connected to the other three was the burning. Each of the four victims seemed to melt from the inside out. The smell of burning hair and fat wafted through the area within a four block range. Or at least… that’s what her father had told her. Or, more accurately, what she had heard her father being told as she eavesdropped on his phone conversation. That sort of gruesome death, she had to see for herself. Was it morbid curiosity? Yes, she fully admitted that. But perhaps, there was something else. Dian thought of herself as above average in intelligence. She had been described once as "pretty smart for a broad" and that just made her more determined than ever to prove herself. Maybe she could see something all the old flatfoots with their tired eyes couldn’t? She knew it was probably a lost cause, but she had to try. If she could stop the madness before a fifth victim then it would be worth it. Dian slowly made her way down the tile floors of the city morgue. This time if night the place was nearly deserted. She knew a few older sergeants on the way to collecting pensions acted as security for the place, but their prowess had been found lacking when Dian quietly walked past the sleeping cop at the desk. There was really no need to walk that softly, though. He had been snoring loudly and in a very deep sleep. The only other soul in the building at night was the night attendant, but Dian’s father had often complained about the man spending most of his time stashed away in some supply closet with a bottle of whiskey. He seemed he was still celebrating the repeal of the 18th amendment four years on. The storage area where the bodies were kept was cool and dark. Dian flicked on her flashlight. She could see her breath steam from her mouth. It seemed to be as cold in here as it was outside in the bitter January cold. Dian turned a corner and let out a scream at the sight before her. [img]https://i.imgur.com/aN9i3LV.jpg[/img] On instinct, the masked man pulled some kind of weapon and shot her with a cloud of gas. She coughed and gasped for air as he ran past her. Dian leaned against one of the walls and began to slowly slide down. She suddenly felt tired, lethargic. Sleepy. Her head rested against the cold tile floor as sleep overtook her. [hr] [b]New York City[/b] [b]Now [/b] Ramone Gutierrez limped down the hallway of his brownstone, one hand against the wall while the other hand gripped his gun. He was too afraid to put weight on his left leg. He knew it was broken in at least two places. Blood dripped down the open wound on his forehead and made it hard to see. And the wounds on his chest oozed blood onto the floor. It was slick and slow going as he tried to make his way downt he hall in barefeet. He had been getting ready for bed when the bedroom door flew open and a man came in. The son of a bitch had a knife in one hand and used it like he knew what the fuck he was doing. Gutierrez managed to get to his gun, but not before taking at least a half dozen stab wounds to the torso, neck, and face. The sight of the gun made the fucker retreat. His retreating move had been delivering a crushing kick to Gutierrez's leg. He heard the bone snap, felt the pain so intense he almost vomited right then and there. He fell back on the bed screaming in pain while the attacker disappeared further into the house. Gutierrez looked through his nightstand for his phone, but it was nowhere to be found. He still had a landline down the hall that he could use to call 911, and then Manny and the rest of the crew. If he could get to the phone then he would be safe. Gutierrez slipped against his own blood and managed to catch himself before he put any more weight on his broken leg. When he was sure he was steady, he looked up and saw the attacker in the hallway. It was dim but he could see the glint of a giant hunting knife in the man's hand. Gutierrez raised his gun at the same time the man flicked his wrist. Suddenly a great searing pain bloomed through Gutierrez's body. He looked down and saw the knife embedded in his chest all the way to the hilt. The shock of it made him put weight on his bad leg and slip on the blood. [sub]“Thunk”[/sub] The pain sent Gutierrez down to the ground, flat on his back. The fall knocked his breath from him and he gasped before coughing, phlegm and blood spraying from his mouth. Gutierrez could feel the knife in his chest bob up and down with every rapid breath. The attacker stood over him and looked down. He couldn’t see anything with that… fucking mask of his. The man yanked the knife from Gutierrez's chest, causing pain to shoot through his body as blood poured from the wound. [b][sub]“Sllllorp.. Drip. Drip. Drip."[/sub][/b] The masked man threw the knife over his shoulder and reached for something on his hip. Gutierrez begged for his life as he saw the gun in the masked man’s hand. [img]https://i.imgur.com/QFsmEZZ.jpg?1[/img] [b][sub]“Bang.”[/sub][/b]