Raving Moon, Lords of the Night Book One

Chapter 8: The Little Bits

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains violence and mature subject matter that may distress some readers.

After meeting with the leaders of the Praetorian I went straight to the new crime scene. The address was an apartment building in a part of Dark Town called Rat City. No one remembered the neighborhood's original name, but the packs of wererats and natural rats made the new moniker stick. Israel Park was on the other side of Stygia, but the crime scenes were too similar for coincidence. We didn't have a profile yet, but the type of carnage pointed to a related perpetrator.

I had a driver drop me off at the corner so I could walk the street, and get a feel of the area's personality. The first thing I noticed was the sense of age and neglect hanging in the air. The buildings were old, most built in the 1910s, but it was more than that. The area hadn't received attention from local government in decades and it showed. Buildings leaned. Empty lots had gone wild with plant life attempting to reclaim the land from a concrete jungle unwilling to release its hold. Streets were reminiscent of battlefields, the uneven terrain crisscrossed by fissures and gaping potholes.

The people of Rat City reflected their surroundings. The old looked worn and spent, after years of hard work for relentless and unforgiving jobs. The young looked lost, tied to a crumbling home with the prospect of their inheritance being ruins forgotten by the outside world. There never seemed to be a medium. The adults who could leave fled, and those who couldn't prowled for what scraps could be found.

Then there were the rats.

They were everywhere, crawling in the gutters and watching from the tall grass of forgotten lots. On the rooftops I could see the occasional set of beady red eyes. Packs of wererats had long ago infiltrated the gangs of Rat City, turning their leadership and claiming the streets for themselves. The Pack of the Hunting Moon, the strongest werewolf pack in the country, could never hope to field the same kind of numbers. However, the rat kings squabbled amongst themselves instead of uniting. Individually none could ever challenge Earl's unmatched power.

Rat City felt like a place dying a slow and final death.

Two black throne vans were parked outside the residence. A group of young S77s sat on the steps rolling dice. One watched as I approached, grabbing the attention of the others when I stopped in front of them. They sized me up, measuring whether I was predator or prey.

"You need something, B?"

"I have business upstairs," I replied. I tried to step around the boy, and his companions barred my way.

"Lookin' to buy something, Moreno?"

"Nah, homey kinda looks like a narc."

"Mister, you gonna have to wait until the OG is finished handling business."

The last was said with a gesture towards the building's glass door.  A pair of S77s were inside arguing with a guy not wearing any gang colors. As if sensing my presence they looked out at me. The larger one sneered, but the other locked eyes with me. Behind her cold stare lurked an inner-beast with a mouth full of fangs and a naked tail.

I held her gaze until she flinched. She threw the door open, and the other S77s jumped. They weren't lycanthrope, but she was still their alpha.

"Let the man pass," she said, her voice deep and menacing.

The others looked at her confused, but they stepped aside. I walked past, and she gave me a respectful nod as our paths crossed. I made my way up to the third floor, passing an open door where a pair of thrones interviewed a witness. I let them work and continued up. A sergeant stood at the top of the steps, his face grim and his eyes distant.