My first attempt this sort of thing. It's style is heavily influenced by that of Nigel D Findley amongst others but if you like it let me know and I'll continue the story
The broken window above me let in the sounds of the street immediately outside. The low droning hiss of the rain constantly punctured by the crack of water being ionised by the blinking neon “L ve Gir s, ive Gi ls” that adorned the front of this hole. I was definitely grateful for the extra chemical protection I’d paid my tailor to add to my greatcoat as my throat clogged with the cloying chemical aftertaste of the ionised acid rain, though upon reflection maybe it was whatever was in the glass in front of me, purporting to be whisky, that was leaving the sour taste.
The mood lighting did little to hide the drawn and hollowed out expression on the face of the obviously mammary enhanced skinny orc girl gyrating, so consistently out of tune that she deserved special recognition for it, on the stage to the left of what masqueraded as the bar. Not that she was getting any recognition, or even simple attention, given by the current patrons. A group of orc and troll gangers were busy insulting each other’s heritage in the corner, though it seemed friendly enough and unlikely to erupt into furniture destroying violence anytime soon, whilst a couple of humans were propped up against counter staring at the small trideo display above the grubby bottles with the glazed look of the habitually incoherent bar fly.
Right now I wanted nothing more than to be back in my doss, I was sure there was still at least 4 fingers of Laphroaig in the bottle on the kitchen counter, but that wouldn’t pay the rent this month so here I was in the hole hiding from the rain ruminating on my next move in the case I was currently investigating. Seven missing girls, all aged between 7 and 9, all SINless and so far not a single body had turned up. I didn’t have much in the way of leads and the barrens being what it was people were reluctant to talk to strangers, even those purporting to help. I had managed to speak to 3 of the families and given how broken up they appeared to be, along with what seemed to be good attempts at providing some sort of normal life, it was unlikely the girls had chosen to leave of their own accord.
I took another sip of the synthetic whisky, hoping against hope it would at least change the taste in the back of my throat, and the synthahol finally did it’s thing. The neurons and synapses in my brain finally started firing properly, I swear that my subconscious is smarter than me sometimes, and the idea I’d been grasping at finally kicked in. I’d been on this street because the 4th missing girl had last been seen here when the rain had turned sourer and more acidic than normal forcing me into this hole. What my subconscious had taken in, whilst my conscious was too busy adding the missing letters to the blinking neon, was the almost un-noticeable camera above the door was most likely working. There had been a red glow in the bottom right corner of the camera, masked and made almost imperceptible by the neon glare beside it. If it was working and I could get a copy of the footage from the day in question maybe I would finally have something solid to track down.
In triumph I rewarded my brain, though my stomach seemed to argue with this description, by knocking back the remains of the drink in front of me. As I began to lift my arm to signal the bored looking kid behind the bar for another the front door opened and what could only be trouble, though for who was yet to be clear, walked in.
As trouble goes this was definitely packaged better than most any I’d seen before and I took my time evaluating her. Tall, probably not far short of my own height, and the way the red gown clung to her body beneath the now open rain cloak definitely female. I couldn’t yet tell if she was human or elven in heritage as her head was still covered by the rain cloak’s hood leaving her face masked in shadow.
A heavily pregnant pause filled the hole as the woman, so obviously not dressed for a visit to such a princely establishment, stepped in before being filled by an even louder “your mother” comment from one of the bigger trolls over in the corner returned the hole to a simulacrum of it’s previous ambiance though my ears detected just a hint of both bravado and fear that had previously not been present now emanating from the gangers in the corner.
Pulling the hood from her head and sliding the cloak from her shoulders, she revealed her features for the first time as the now released raven black hair cascaded down her back. She was of human heritage and caucasian ethnicity with beestung lips coloured to match her gown. Her eyes were deep dark pools that seemed to suck in the viewer, in this case me, as she scanned the room. As they rested their gaze on me I felt my pulse jump a couple of beats and my autonomic adrenal response was definitely kicking in as she sashayed her way across the room towards me, each move seemingly part of a sensual dance with her gown clinging to the curves of her body.
As she slid into the seat opposite mine I caught the slight and subtle, yet definitely intoxicating, scent of fresh roses. My pulse quickened again and, though there was no overt threat to me, I was definitely comforted by the weight of the Colt Government holstered on my left hip hidden away beneath the folds of my coat and cheap suit jacket.
“I think you and I need to have a little tete a tete mon cherie.” Her soft voice and slight accent, Cajun or Creole I thought, washed over me like a lover sliding her soft oiled hands across naked flesh and yet again my pulse jumped a couple more beats. Not yet fully trusting myself to talk I nodded slowly before gesturing at the empty glass in front of me. She inclined her head in acceptance, “Whatever you’re having wil be fine with me.”
Swallowing, I lifted my hand with 2 fingers raised to indicate to the now staring kid behind the bar that I wanted 2 more, whilst forcing myself to speak for the first time, all along hoping that my voice would not crack or waver as I did so. “I’m afraid you’re unlikely to enjoy the experience if my tastebuds are anything to go by.” When I don’t know what’s going on I have a tendency to fall back on my, admittedly somewhat poor, sense of humour, usually in an attempt to take back some control and get a grip on myself.
“And are they?” She seemed happy to play along with my opening conversational gambit.
“Usually, at least where this stuff’s concerned anyway.”
“Then I guess it’s a risk I’ll just have to take. After all it’s a risk you seem happy enough to take yourself mon cherie.” I thought I caught the slightest hint of either a pout, smile or both as she finished her last sentence.
This brief period of repartee had allowed me to get myself somewhat back in order, nothing like a mental kick to the hypothalamus I always say, and I allowed myself to relax slightly as the kid delivered 2 more grimy glasses filled with the brown liquid that tried to pass itself off as the product of Scotland. “On the house” the kid whimpered as he shakily placed them down in front of us. Whilst I was obviously still not in control of what was happening here I was at least running my reasoning and logic circuits again. Who was this woman sitting across from me that could have such an effect upon everyone within the room?
