My mood soured by the day’s events, I decided work was the best distraction. I bundled up my uncle’s gift, leaving the partially used vial out, and returned the rest to their hiding place. They had more uses than just healing and it was comforting to have one close at hand. I never knew what kind of trouble might pop up, so it was best to be prepared for anything. I took a quick shower to wash away the blood and dressed for action. Black pants, black T-shirt, black boots. Beneath the shirt I wore a thin, small-ringed mail shirt, which a LARP (Live Action Role Playing) pal of mine weaved together. While far from the best protection in the modern age of guns, it would help ease my mind should I run into any more of my ex’s cronies. Clothed, I checked to ensure my spare. 45’s were loaded, then slipped them into a double holster shoulder rig. I buckled an ammo belt on and covered it all up with a black jacket. I looked in the mirror and grinned, ready to rock. I threw the horns up and stuck my tongue out, head-banging.

Unable to think of an excuse to stay home any longer, I headed out. Since I couldn’t tear open a dimensional portal, which would transport me in a blink of an eye like certain other people, I took the car. Blasting Cradle of Filth’s, Godspeed on the Devil’s Thunder, I rode out.

On the Trail

Just as the sun started to set, I pulled up outside the second location, a rundown warehouse deep in the south end of Old Town. The first, an abandoned strip mall, turned up nothing. It was obvious someone had been there recently, but the area had been swept clean. Too clean. I couldn’t find a dust bunny if I farted in a corner.

Giving in once more to paranoia, spoiled bitch that she is, I parked the car a block over. I walked the long way around the block just to be sure.