Task One: Mortal

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Iris Bell

It was strange how human emotions seemed to hang in the air, infecting it and polluting it until soon it was the only thing Iris could smell. Everywhere she went it reeked of fear and confusion. It almost drowned out the smell of meat wafting through the alleyway. Almost, but not quite. Iris ignored the emotions and padded quietly to the open door at the end of the dark alley, illuminating her for a split second before she darted behind a dumpster. The butcher stuck his head out of the door and peered around, eyes narrowing suspiciously before he closed it softly. Idiot, she thought. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. As if on cue the door opened a crack, squeaking slightly. Iris padded over to it and squeezed through the gap reappearing in the worn out kitchen. She much preferred fresh livestock, but she was in a hurry so frozen would have to do. She followed the smell of meat, being careful not to make a sound. Suddenly, she appeared in a huge room full of meat of all kinds. Taking her time, she carefully selected a lovely chicken carcass and ran back outside, being careful not to make too much noise. She settled behind the dumpster, eating until she was full. It was almost light by that time, time to change back. She morphed, attempting to ignore the twinge of pain every time her bones snapped back into the right place. Years of transforming had made her almost entirely immune to the pain. Almost. She stood, gathering her clothes in one hand and began to change, pulling on her black leather jacket and worn out jeans. The Sun had begun to rise. It was time to leave.

Iris slipped quietly out of the alley and onto the almost deserted streets of Chicago, the sky a dismal gray. On a day like this she would normally have barricaded inside her room and stayed there under the pillows and blankets all day, listening to Alex Clare to drown out the noise of the busy streets. Speaking of which. She might as well on a day as bad as this. Iris popped in her earbuds and cranked up the volume. Lucky her. Too Close was her favorite song. She continued to walk down the streets that were steadily becoming busier and busier. Unlucky her. She hated big crowds. And the daytime. The night was much more quiet and relaxing.

As she walked she wondered why she agreed to take this case. Maybe it was the mystery of it all. No, it wasn't that. The whole thing made Iris uncomfortable. What in God's name could be powerful enough to kill a dragon, and a powerful one at that? Stop it, she chided herself. You'll scare yourself senseless. Best not to think about it. She was getting close to the scene of the crime, and she didn't want to be too jittery when she arrived. Iris suddenly got the feeling she was being watched. The hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle and she took out her earbuds. She whirled around, ready to attack she she saw the woman. She was an average height with dark hair and eyes. In fact, everything about this woman was dark. She smiled and licked her lips.

"Hey. Where are you heading off too so soon?" she asked, a malevolent gleam in her eyes. This lady obviously wasn't human, that was sure. Maybe she was a Bloodsucker. No, she wasn't pale enough. Or maybe a Demon. But no, she didn't stink of Hell. The smell of blood and pain wafted off her. Then Iris saw her piercings. They were slightly burning her skin. So, she was a Fae. Obviously an Unseelie. Iris tensed. She'd only ever met an Unseelie once before and the encounter hadn't gone very well. The street had slowly cleared until it was empty, obviously because of this Fae's aura. It sent off nothing but bad vibes.

"Hey!" the Fae said again. "I'm asking a question." Iris studied her carefully.

"I don't want anything from you," she said. "I don't need any favors." The Fae pouted.

"Everyone needs a favor. You look like you're looking for something. So, what's going on. What can I help you with." Her face split into an obnoxious grin. Iris waved her away.

"It's nothing. Just some old house." The lies flew as easily to her as she did to a fresh bag of Oreos. The Fae still grinned.

"How about this, I'll tell you where I'm headed if you'll tell me where you're headed. Sound like a fair deal?" Iris declined. She knew better than to make a deal with an Unseelie Fae. The Fae pouted again, but didn't push the subject. Iris continued to walk down the street, but the Fae followed her.

Author Games: Empty NightWhere stories live. Discover now