Chapter 1
It was raining in the city. As per usual. Ever since the terraforming, rain had been a near constant. It was cold rain too, not the kind of summer you’d hope to find when they dump 100 trillion dollars into a project to save the planet from our fuckups. In the end the project left the whole damn place colder than we started, and much rainier too. At some point I stopped bothering to carry an umbrella. The damn things usually ended up breaking in the wind tunnels of the lower levels anyway, and the hassle was more than it was worth. My coat was mostly waterproof and the hat did its job. It was enough to get through the nights in this hellhole at least.
It had been six days since I’d started the murder investigations. It had been a particularly unpleasant affair, even for me. After so many years on the job and stuck in the field you’d think that it gets easier. It doesn’t. At some point you start to become jaded, going through the motions of cataloging and filing away events, but sometimes those filing cabinets like to open themselves. I can see some horrible shit when I close my eyes and I can’t say I feel like I’ve got much to say for it. I’d retired for that reason exactly... and a few others. By the time I started working the city was beyond saving in my eyes.
Population density exploded after the Third Great War as people rushed to get away from the things that lurked in the now dead cities. What we ended up with was too many people in too small of a space all killing, murdering, stealing and raping each other. Some say it isn’t so bad, as long as you don’t spend time in the worst areas or learn how to take care of yourself. I believe it, but being a detective doesn’t exactly give much choice. I would’ve stayed retired if I had the choice, but as far as life goes, I tend to lose it seems.
I’d been sitting on my couch watching old pre-war films about cool detectives and androids that save the world when I heard a knock on my door. Given how strange having a visitor was I decided to get up and check the door. What I had expected was some salesman or even a religious fanatic. What I got was a large man in a suit who was obviously a cop. At first I’d planned to just turn and leave him standing there, but reason got the better of me. As much as I hated to admit it, if they were coming to my door it was probably something they wouldn’t stop coming for till I responded. Resolving myself, I’d pulled the door open. The man nodded minutely before immediately launching into a small speech, not even giving me time to protest or ask questions. Within moments he’d dropped a folder into my hands and turned to leave. I’d been so stunned by the barrage of information that I didn’t even manage to call out to him to ask for clarification before he disappeared around a corner, into the darkness of the hallway. With nothing but the small manila folder and the whole lot of nothing he gave me in his little speech I closed the door and sat down.
I’ve seen a lot of terrible shit in my time. But some of the things in that folder made me gag. It was a string of murders around one of the lower levels. I’d been to the area frequently enough due to its less than scrupulous population, but I’d never seen anything as brutal as what was in the folder. Whoever had done these things had been truly beyond saving. One of the first ones found was a woman who’d had her eyes and tongue pulled from her head before being hung by her own intestines and left to bleed to death or suffocate, whichever came first. These kinds of things were rare, even for a city with as much crime as Citadel, but a string of them was unheard of. By the time the first 2 happened the cops would be all over the case, even pulling from other areas to deal with it. The fact that there had already been 9 victims without any headway was a very bad sign. After getting through most of the folders contents a letter fell from the back. I’d pickled it up and looked at it, finding it to be from the chief. We’d always been on good terms despite my sudden choice to retire, I’m sure he understood given the fair share of things he’d seen himself.
The letter itself was short and to the point, essentially telling me to get my ass back in the department to deal with this situation. I couldn’t say I blamed him for calling me back, after seeing the case I could see why he thought I’d be interested in working on it. Never one to let evil go unpunished in my younger days. Somewhere along the way I started to realize that we could never truly punish all the evil this world sought to provide. Combined with the steady decrease in new recruits and constant retirements, in a casket or not, it was clear he was hurting for experience by this point. The fact that he hadn’t already left himself had honestly been a bit of surprise at first, but I suppose some are able to be ever optimistic. Being honest with myself, there was something in the back of my mind that wanted to go back to that life, working on cases and trying to make the world a better place, but when it was all said and done there was always another evil ready to take its place right after. I would’ve rejected it outright if it weren’t for how unusually gruesome the killer was. These kinds of cases didn’t come often and I felt something that I hadn’t felt in quite a while when I read over the folder. A genuine sense of duty. Before I knew it I was out the door and on my way to the office for the first time in nearly a year.
———
The mid level streets were about as dark as usual at that hour. The wind between the building and coming up from the lower levels combined with the rains cut a biting chill that one never really got used to. Even flipping my collar up against the wind barely made a difference when faced with its unending cold indifference. The neon signs of the city cast a glow in the puddles on the pathway and in the rain as it fell. If it wasn’t so miserable I might’ve considered it pretty. What should’ve been a 5 minute walk took nearly 15 minutes because of nature’s damndest attempts to end my life in the street, though it was more our own fault for designing the city to seemingly always create high winds. Climbing into the taxi I’d given the destination and an access code for the pads before it took off upward through the levels. As the taxi rose above the major buildings I could see the rain glittering off the massive glass and steel structures. The neon of massive projected signs left pink and purple afterimages on the glass in the night rain. From up here it was almost easy to forget about all the terrible shit happening on the lowest levels. Hell, even the mid levels could be bad at times.
Before long the massive pyramid structure of the headquarters came into view ahead. Despite my time away it still felt as familiar as always. It stuck out from the rest of the buildings around because of the complete lack of signage. Or anything really. The whole thing was a dull gray that turned to black in the night rain. One of the few places the corpos couldn’t fully grab, not that it really helped much. In the end all we did was barely hold the lower levels together while the upper levels had private security swarming the whole damn place. Within moments we’d landed on the pad and I was rushing out into the rain once again. The taxi pad for Central was barely used, and was pinned on right at the edge of the main pad, about as far as you could possibly get from the entrance on this side. On the few nicer days that happened from time to time it gave a good view of the city as you walked. At times like this it just left you blasted with rain and fighting the wind.
After fighting the elements to get across the pad I was treated by a fresh face. He waved me inside before hitting the door controls and turning make his way down the hall. As we walked down the hall I heard the hissing of the thick metal doors sealing and locking. The halls themselves were the same old gray that they’d always been, with small white accents to try and make the place look livelier. It didn’t help. It only took a few minutes and another two security doors before we made it to the main room. Like many other buildings on the upper levels, it was based on designs of major cities of the past, with wood accents and a large statue of the first commissioner at the center of the building. Some of the dispatch areas even had a fully wood facade, which must’ve cost a fortune when the place was built.
Making our way to the chief’s office we ended up in one of the many small wood buildings in the space. It was a pretty nice office all things considered. One side was a sloped window looking out on the city and the other side led directly into the main area of the building. There was a time I was hoping to have the office for myself, although those thoughts were long gone. He was sitting behind the large wood desk as always. The chief had a white mustache that he’d always kept. immaculately trimmed. His hair was also always perfectly done. He was quite the model of a standup citizen, which made sense given his position. At least I thought it did. Once I’d left the force I admit I stopped taking as good care of myself, and by the time I was standing in that room I had a bit of scruff going on that I hadn’t shaved in a day or two. Or maybe three. I wasn’t really sure by that point.
Within a moment he’d looked up from his desk and locked eyes with me. “Long time no see Richtar.”
“Likewise,” I responded flatly. As much as I liked the man, there was a reason I left the job and I wasn’t too happy with being dragged back into it, even if I did choose to be there.
“I know you were hoping to enjoy some nice years of retirement, but like I said in the note I left for you, we aren’t equipped to handle a case like this. Everyone else senior is already working on other high profile cases, and to be honest, you might’ve been the best we ever had.” As much as I knew he was just buttering me up to try and get me to help with the case, it was still nice to hear. Even if it made me a bit bitter to know that I still couldn’t make a real difference.
“I kept your old office open if you want it back,” he continued through my thoughts. “I left all the information in there if you choose to come back to work. Everything was cleared with the department and you’re still certified, so you can start working as soon as you want. I see you came dressed for the job.”
When I started as a detective I’d been just as into old detective movies as I was then and I’d gone around wearing a trench coat and a fedora that took a whole hell of a lot of effort to get. At some point along the line I’d gotten good at my job and the costume I wore stopped being a costume, and by the time I’d returned I was basically known for it around the department. I don’t think it dawned on most of the department where the look came from, but the ones old enough to remember when I was a rookie imitating his favorite movie characters were either all dead or retired by this point. Excluding the chief that is.
Sighing, I nodded and began to turn to leave the office. I heard him call “Glad to have you back.” after me as I left the office. It looked like I was being dragged back into this shit once again because I can’t just let sleeping dogs lie. If I’d ignored it though, when I saw it on the news I would blame myself for every single victim. Even if I knew I wasn’t truly responsible, those kinds of things are hard to shake this late in the game.
