Tales From Brightburn City... Hawke: Eternal Rain.

Prologue - Arrival

(It's an amazing thing, rain, how it could be the best thing that god ever graced us with or the worst thing he cursed us with, for example... Some ancient tribes used to worship it, praying for it to wash away their sins and grace their crops. Some people hate it as it interrupts their wedding day or special occasion. some kids dance in it; as now they have something to drink, and some kids hate it; as it's just washed away their chalk hopscotch grid on the playground... In Brightburn, the only thing it's good for is washing away the bloodstains on the concrete. There's been an eternal downpour that had drowned Brightburn ever since one fatal day. Brightburn used to be a haven of free clean energy. kids playing in the street, communal gatherings, everyone living for the moment, businesses were thriving; as the cost of fuel was non-existent, until one crucial evening. scientists who discovered this clean free energy unravelled a new element; Element zero. Element zero was to be believed the answer to all the world's problems, it run on its own accord constantly giving off free clean energy that could power a country let alone a city... Well, for about a month, until, out of nowhere, like some freak accident. The element started to surge like it was pulsing out waves of energy that our technology was not advanced enough to deal with. Then the blast came, and thousands were vaporised when the reactor containing the element exploded, sending a bright white flash throughout the city. some people got off lucky and only got a distinctive mark almost identical to one another. These people were known as imprints. The rest of the city was cursed with eternal rain... Our story brings you to Leslie Hawke, a homicide detective working to the bone, day and night, smoking his favourite brand of cigarettes whilst fighting gangs and corrupt politicians. Hawke is a relatively tall Heavy-set bloke looking to be about six foot 2 and believed to be about two hundred pounds. Dark brown hair covered up with his signature fedora, and his stubbly beard was usually covered up by the constant smoking. The blue in his eyes appeared deeper due to the bloodshot white surrounding his iris, probably because of the lack of sleep...)

My name's Hawke, Detective Leslie Hawke, another dark, wet, piss-stained, crime-riddled night in this hell hole we call a city.
335 days since the incident, I still hear the cries from the blast like souls crawling their way through the gates of limbo, even over the screams of sirens attending aid to another poor victim of this so-called justice system I serve...

(Hawke flings the nub end of his cigarette out his driver-side window, selects drive, and pulls out from the parking bay outside Joy's Diner.)

It's time to get back to work, it's gonna be a long night. Things haven't been the same since the blast.
You can still see the etchings of figures carved out on the solid concrete like their souls were imprisoned for eternity.

(Whilst Hawke draws for another cigarette, his coms radio starts to crackle.)

"Detective Hawke!! Can you read me..."

Looks like another homicide. There has been some sinister shit happening these last few weeks.
My gut tells me this isn't going away too soon...

(Hawke arrives at the crime scene and disregards his cigarette that had burnt down to the nub.
Hawke draws for another smoke, steps out of his vehicle, and slowly starts to approach the yellow tape surrounding the area.)

I've spent 20 years on the force, and in all my experience I've never seen anything like this.
Since the incident, homicides aren't like what they used to be...

(Hawke approaches two uniforms at the entrance to the crime scene, officers Barnsley and Rodriguez. )

"It's one of those horror scenes again" said officer Barnsley as he quickly adjusts his posture, whilst brushing the remains of his half-eaten cheese burger from his uniform; he then quickly flings it into a dying, saddened, shrubbery; which was wilting away on the sidewalk, just outside of the crime scene.