Night's Crimson Veil - Part 3

Night's Crimson Veil - Part 3

The sun had long since retreated for the night by the time Melisande entered her apartment. It was two stories high; the bottom an office, and the upper level a living quarters. The building looked ancient inside and out. Melisande assumed the building had been there since the founding of Railing, it being in an old district. She strode up the stairs, which led to the bedroom. There was an arcadia window with rusted hinges on one end of the room, while on the other, a door leading to a rustic restroom with a small claw-foot tub.

Before retiring for the night, Melisande laid out the collection of evidence she had gathered from the place of the sight on the apartment’s small dining table. It wasn’t much; vampires were typically clean beasts. There was a bloodied scrap of blue cloth, a curly lock of dark brown hair, and a single pointed tooth. It was obvious that the ragged cloth and bit of hair belonged to the victim, although why the vampire carried them from the attack site was another mystery altogether. Of course, Melisande had never heard of vampires losing teeth after attacks, either. She had only dealt with them once before this - she had seen it, but after a burst of flaring light, it escaped.

Melisande sighed. This could easily be her most difficult to solve case yet. “Vampires,” she muttered, “too clean for their own good.” she decided to sleep on it. Perhaps something would come to her in the night. The investigator’s plans for sleep were ruined when a loud crash resounded in the cramped alley between her office and the drugstore parallel to it. Ms. Watt, the owner called next door, frightened that it was another haunt. Melisande dully reassured her it was a cat.

What happened next, not even Melisande could have predicted. An eerie wail caused her eyes to snap open, she leapt from her bed, slid her coat on over her black silk night gown, and flew out the door, still pulling on her heavy black boots. She darted down the dark street, heading further into the historic district; the direction of the noise. A bright yellow flash materialized in the thick darkness. Melisande was knocked of her feet, and the flash grew brighter and brighter, until the light receded, and all went numb with black.

The residents of the aged complexes had heard the noise as well, and were wakened with thoughts filled with terror. A menagerie of townsfolk grouped in front of Melisande’s apartment, knocking wildly on the door, though no answer came. Without warning, a whirling ball of black flew from the inner streets into the crowd, creating utter chaos and disarray. It stopped in front of the apartment’s door. The group was mortified. They stood, rigid and dumbfounded at the sight before them.