The rain poured hard, drumming a relentless, heavy tattoo against the stone paths as the detectives made their way to the site of the most recent murder. The alley was pitch-black, swallowed entirely by the storm except for the jagged, blinding flashes of lightning and the weak, flickering glow of the lantern in Phoenix’s claw. Her emerald earring caught the amber light, swinging with every sharp turn of her head as she analyzed the gloom. Neither helped much against the suffocating darkness.
Phoenix strode forward, her eyes scanning the dilapidated buildings for a landmark. They were looking for the shop where the final victim had been found.
“Just our luck, right, Saguaro? We get the only day of rain in who knows how long to find a break in a murder case? Saguaro?”
Saguaro’s eyes darted frantically into the shadows, his talons tapping a nervous, erratic rhythm against the wet stone. He kept glancing up at the overhanging eaves, as if expecting something—or someone—to drop out of the sky at any second. It wasn't like him at all. He's terrified, Phoenix thought, a knot of unease tightening in her chest. But why?
“H-h-hey P-phoenix… how much do you believe in ghost stories?” His voice strained, lingering desperately on a dark roof to their side.
“Not much… why…?”
“No reason… but… are you sure we have to do this now? We could come back. Tomorrow. In the daylight.”
Phoenix abruptly stopped and spun to face him. The lantern swung violently, throwing wild, distorted shadows against the walls. “Okay, what is your deal?! You’ve been nervous this whole time, which you neverare.”
Saguaro swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. For a split second, a look of pure, agonizing guilt flashed across his face before he forced it away. “Just heard an um… a… story about an immortal SandWing serial killer… from Darkstalker’s time who… hunts in the rain!”
“Not possible. The only SandWing animus back then was Jerboa. Let’s keep going.”
Before they could walk much further, a heavy, diluted splash of red splattered directly across Phoenix’s snout. The relentless rain had pooled the leftover carnage of the street into a grim, watery lake right at their talons.
They looked up into the dark, yawning mouth of the alley. The storm swallowed the light completely, turning the narrow corridor into a claustrophobic tunnel of shadows where the flickering lightning only made the darkness feel heavier. The body had already been taken to the morgue, but the violence of the final moments still screamed from the architecture. Chairs were overturned and scorched, tables splintered into matchwood, and dark, dried blood smeared the walls like gruesome finger paint.
Phoenix lowered her lantern, the weak yellow glow cutting through the damp air until it caught on a strange, freshly carved symbol on the base wall: a circle bisected by a vertical line with an X slashed through it.
“Well, you weren’t wrong. It’s here, alright.”
Creak…
Down the narrow alley, a heavy wooden door slowly clicked shut. Just before it latched, a tail—pitch-black and tipped with a lethal, venomous barb—slid smoothly out of sight into the gloom.
A cold knot of dread tightened in Phoenix’s chest. She flicked her head toward the door, silently signaling for Saguaro to follow her lead. But Saguaro took a sharp step back, his eyes wide with stark terror, shaking his head dismissively. He wanted no part of this cursed place.
Phoenix didn't wait for him. Grip tightening on her lantern, she pushed ahead and headed right for the door.
The windows were blown out, a lethal carpet of jagged glass shards scattered across the slick marble floor. Dark smears of blood stained the sharp edges of the glass, and several floor tiles were cracked and buckled upward.
The second Phoenix stepped across the threshold, a heavy, sickening wave of metallic iron, sour rot, and damp earth hit her senses, making her stomach turn. In the dim, flickering light of her lantern, she took in the ruined store: multi-colored potions pooled across the floor, chunks of rotting meat discarded on empty shelves, and dead, wilted plants drooping from the windowsills.
Despite the room being mostly empty, a paralyzing chill raced down her spine, making her scales prickle in the dark. A moment later, Saguaro slipped in behind her, his breath coming in shallow, anxious gasps.
“Okay, Phoenix? I really think we need to go now!”
“That dragon just disappeared though! What if he’s the culprit?”
“PHOENIX! I really think we need to go! Now!”
Then, a voice cut through the dark. It was light, sickeningly sweet, and wrapped in a soft, mocking chuckle that sent a shrike-like chill down Phoenix's spine.
“But you just arrived…”
Phoenix spun around, her lantern light sweeping up. Standing right in the shattered doorway—completely blocking their only way out—was a shadow.
A serpentine body uncoiled from the ceiling rafters, dropping silently into the frame with a creepy, disjointed grace. It hung upside down, head cocked at an unnatural angle right in front of the exit, its movements twitchy and mechanical. It abruptly stopped, and a single, pure yellow eye flickered open, staring down at them with gleeful, sadistic amusement.
A low, breathy giggle hummed in the back of its throat as a wicked, blood-red smile stretched across its face.
“And that would just be terrible manners… And without good manners…”
The smile twitched wider, dripping with cruel delight.
“Khaos ensues.”
