The door handle was at the same time a feat of artistry and a golden warning. Delicately detailed, it was shaped in the image of a goddess holding aloft a plate. Every bit of her gown was shaped to be as functional as it was beautiful. Its unmarred surface in an otherwise dingy, trash-strewn alleyway was an unspoken warning; This is neutral territory.

That neutrality was more sacred than High Priestess Renneth’s panties here in the slums and protected by twice as much weaponry, I’d imagine. Wrapping my fingers around the goddess’ waist, I took a deep breath of Twilight’s slum air. As soon as the smell of rot hit my tongue I regretted it. Pulling on the handle, a soft click came and the wood groaned as I pulled it aside. The door was, surprisingly, unlocked.

Immediately, I was met with a cloud of smoke. Thick haze of an amber hue visibly poured out into the street. I reached into my vest pocket to pull out a handkerchief. I brought it over my nose and mouth before stepping inside. Tables dotted the center and veiled booths lined the walls. Only one table wasn’t occupied.

Thugs, enforcers and criminals of all kinds occupied the place. Scars and missing facial features were commonplace. Sidelong glances, some more glassy-eyed than others, turned my way. Small censers dotted a few tables as the source of the smoke. I noticed a few hands drifting towards clubs, swords and other assorted weapons at various waists. Breaking through the tension was a woman’s harsh rebuke, “I told you all to stop smoking that shit back here! Meela! Open the windows!”

My head snapped to the front. Through the mist, I could make out a sharply dressed woman. Her elegant dress was slit at the waist to let one leg slide out from its purple hem. Like a good third of Twilight and myself, she was Drow. Her skin was a lusciously pale ash color and her pointed ears were sporting several golden rings all with a differently colored, perfect cut gem dangling from the hoop. Her hard, purple eyes cowed everyone at a table with a censer into putting it out. She then beckoned with a gloved hand for me to approach the bar as she stood behind.

As I crossed the room, a different woman rushed out from behind the bar. Being a halfling, she didn’t have to lift the gate on the bar but just walked under it. A thick, black collar around her throat even boasted a perfectly cut gem. Meela was another declaration of the Matron’s money. Halflings lived on the eastern Continent alongside the mountain and wood clans of Elves. So, she’d been ‘imported’ at great cost.

Using a stick longer than her, the slave opened hatches in the roof and windows over each booth. Complaints began to grow about the smell from the alley. Ignoring this, the Matron had an almost lilting tone, “A new face through the back door. That is rare. Who are you?”

“My name is Arcavato Solface. I’m supposed to meet a client here.” I introduced myself as I pulled the marker that had been given to me. It was a golden emblem in the shape of a teardrop. For a second, the woman’s eyes narrowed and looked me over. Then, she waved a hand towards the back. Calming myself, I refused to look behind to what I’m sure was someone bringing some weapon up behind me.

Soft steps came from behind as the Matron walked out from behind the bar. Motioning to a pair of stairs leading up, she motioned for me to follow. Every step elicited a groan as we ascended into a brightly lit lounge. Several musicians played a soft tune and several slave servers were present for each guest. I was guided to a table near the band.

Settled in was an older Half-elf with faded blonde hair. A telltale scar ran diagonally across his left eye. A hook hand rested on the table while his other palm was wrapped around a deep, purple drink. Green eyes looked at me as I felt my breath hitch. This wasn’t the defensive look of the thugs from downstairs. These eyes sent shivers down my spine.

He rasped as I sat down, “You come highly recommended from the Church and Imperial sides as a competent investigator. Do you know who I am?”

“Duke Sinir Nightsbane, a former slave named a Duke but who has no lands.”

“Good, good. But, in this situation, I’m just a concerned citizen of Twilight. You see, the streets haven’t been safe these past few weeks. People keep dying.”

“That’s hardly anything new,” I tried to sound bolder than I felt. Those piercing, emerald eyes narrowed at my unspoken jest; So long as you’re around. The Duke had purchased his freedom and then his title by supplying slaves and drugs into Twilight despite both being illegal. In doing so, his family had grown influential.

I watched the old man’s shoulders rise and then slowly collapse. He opted for several gulps of his drink before continuing, “I’ll keep this short. Someone or something is killing people down here. I know the Church and Legate don’t care what happens down here in the slums. So, I need someone to investigate what’s going on who won’t start a war or interfere with businesses necessary to keep the city running. Am I understood?”

“Yes, but I have questions first.”

“Artea will give you the details.  I’m not expecting much but give me a place to look for this shadow.” The Duke dismissed me with a wave of his hook. At once, the woman returned to my side, silently urging me to leave. I got up and followed her back down the stairs.

As we passed the bar, Artea looked to the bejeweled slave to loudly announce, “I’ll be back in a bit. Smack anyone who starts burning that shit again while I’m gone with your stick..”

“Yes, mistress.”

With that, we departed from where I’d begun. Slipping her arm around mine, Artea gave me a coy smile. She explained as we followed the alley onto the main road, “The most recent attacks have been taking place on Silent Street. All have been associates of Sinir in the past month but were random nobodies before. What’s made them notable is that we don’t know how they’ve been killed.”

We stepped out onto the main thoroughfare. Buggies and carts drawn by pack beasts of varying species kept to the center while the rest walked or ran to their destinations. The wide, brick road rubbed up against varying buildings. Twilight was a burgeoning city where the slums had grown around newly built factories. All protected by high walls that were patrolled by the local militia and the Church’s guards.

Shaking myself from the marvel of the afternoon rush, I inquired, “No wounds on them?”

“Exactly, that and any witnesses can’t make out the person. They always claim it’s too dark. Even when they’re drow.”

“A dark elf who can’t see in the dark?” I scoffed. Altea just shrugged. We turned down a side road where a restaurant sat nestled between several apartments. The road ended suddenly rather than continuing to the wall, leaving a vacant lot at the end. Altea then indicated a road that split off and curved to follow the outer wall.

“That’s Silent Street. The Legate’s militia patrols this area of the wall so it’s strange that no one saw anything.”

“Can’t see if you’re not looking. The soldiers were likely more interested in keeping things out of the city than what’s going on inside.”

“True, it’s what our taxes pay for.”

“You pay taxes?”

“Just because my clientele is rough, doesn’t mean I don’t run an upstanding business!”

I winced as the sharp heel of her shoe dug into my foot. Through gritted teeth I managed to speak, “I’m sorry.”

“Good, just follow the road and you’ll see flowers where they were killed.”

“Aren’t you coming to escort me?”

Altea pointed to the dimming night sky as she shook her head, “Not a chance! If it’s some psycho just out for a cheap thrill, you’re sure no protection.”

“Ow, my pride.” I winced and clutched my pinstripe vest as I watched the Matron strut off. Her hurried steps were clearly born from true anxiety. Now alone, I followed the road, noting that anyone who passed by didn’t make eye contact. Hushed whispers and anxiety that the Matron had shared were present. Apparently, these killings had everyone spooked.

Reaching the first set of flowers, I looked at the alley. Nestled between a candy shop and a laundromat, I began walking down the alley. Someone had painted letters on the laundromat side together. Discarded old sheets lay in a heap near some broken bottles. I muttered to myself, “Guess I couldn’t have expected much help from criminals hiding out of fear.”

Evening had fallen into night by the time I reached the second flower. The world took on its colorless shade as my eyes adjusted to the lightless gloom. It felt easier to make out details like that. As I continued my inspection It made sense to me that people thought it was the work of a single killer. There was a clear pattern.

Every flower was at an alley.

Every murder would be easy to conceal due to tight corridors.

Even more bizarre, I never found any signs of a struggle at any of the locations. Most people I tried to speak to were tight-lipped about the murders but the locals who would talk to me let something slip; Mostly admitted knowing that the victim was involved with either the Duke’s smuggling ring or his rivals, the Apertune family. However, they’d called a truce till the killer was found.

Hours had passed in the blink of an eye as I retraced the murders along Silent street. Which was obviously the person’s hunting ground. As I knelt down by a flower, I noticed someone hurrying along the road. They were wrapped in a heavy coat but their high heels were clearly a woman’s.

Clicking my tongue, I followed the woman. Something drew me after her. She passed down Silent and stopped in front of a distillery. Rather than enter the doors, she walked around to the back. I crept along behind her, listening. She began to talk to someone else. As I drew closer, the alley seemed to dim. I narrowed my eyes to try and see further along. Now, I kept my hand to the wall to make sure I didn’t lose my place.

Reaching the turn in the wall, I slowly poked my head out. That’s when I heard the first gasp of pain. I could only make out the woman I’d followed. Another creature stood beyond her, just at the edge of my vision. In a sensuous voice, the indistinct creature asked mockingly, “What do you intend to do with the money?”

A new cry of pain came from the woman.

“Are you aware that you’re Duke Sinir Nightsbane’s daughter?”

Another cry of agony. I tried to creep closer, the second figure starting to become clearer.

“Who contacted you?”

At that, the woman fell over, clutching her breast. Then the silver eyes of the creature looked at me directly. I froze, they were silver with a narrow, black slit down the middle. A predator’s eyes. I was seen and made. Panic welled up in my throat as the creature closed in.

Try as I might to look away, the eyes held me, unblinking. Then, that velvet voice filled my ears, “How do you think I killed her?”

My mind reeled at the question. I recalled the woman not answering and being in pain. How could questions kill? It made no sense! My mind reeled and I realized I might die if I didn’t answer! My mouth was a mire as sweat stung my eyes. I managed to stammer out, “P-poison?”

The creature giggled and shook its head slowly, “Nope.”

With that, she boldly walked past me. My body shook and as she vanished from my sight, I turned to follow her, but she was gone. Nothing but mist from the distillery was left.

Immediately, my legs buckled. I’d feared for my life and been terrified. Yet, at the same time, my mind raced. Why ask me to understand? Why let me live? Could it not kill without questions? My mind circled and rampaged before I looked back to the young woman I’d followed. Hurrying over to her, I pressed an ear to her chest. No heartbeat came.

Doing my duty, I found the nearest Militiaman and reported the murder. Not long after I was in a Militia interrogation room. A colonel in a haphazard uniform and with two cups of coffee asking me for details. The only two things that came to mind were those silver eyes and somehow I knew the creature was female. That was all I knew. After a few fruitless hours, I signed a report and was sent home. My credentials put me above suspicion.

It was early morning when I reached my combination apartment and office. Rather than pulling my bed out, I crashed onto the couch. I don’t even remember feeling it, just that blessed sleep overtook me. In my dreams, I saw those silver eyes. They followed me, everywhere. I couldn’t escape them. Their gaze melted my hand. When I tried to scream they silenced me. When I tried to beg I was ignored. I was helpless.

My dream was ended by a loud knocking. Another round of loud raps came as my eyes adjusted to the midday light. Aching and groggy, I stumbled over to the door as the taps shifted to thunderous pounding. As I opened it, I saw nothing.

A polite cough dragged my vision down to see a slave collared halfling with brown hair. My mouth moved faster than my brain, “You’re um… her slave.”

“Meela, yes. Mistress has requested you come to the bar tonight and use the back door.”

“Any time in particular?”

“After nightfall.”

“I understand.”

The slave then turned on her heel and dashed back down the hallway. Shutting my door, I collapsed back onto the couch. My mind still reeled, trying to piece things together. Eventually, I fell back into a dreamless sleep. It was afternoon before I knew it. I decided to write out what I knew about each victim. The questions. And the creature who had asked them.

As the sun slipped beneath the horizon, I knew nothing more. The nearest thing I could assume was that the creature had tricked each victim to be alone to ask the questions. It sounded impossible. Questions to kill? Could they be turned against it then?

I noticed the stars, I cleaned myself up and headed out. Grabbing a loaf from the cupboard, I ate it on my way back to the club. Once again I fondled the golden goddess and stepped into the criminal den.

Altea was awaiting me. Once I stepped inside, she motioned me to follow. We approached the stairs and she stepped on something on the floor. I couldn’t make it out but the stairs that had lead up to the private rooms lifted up to reveal steps leading to a basement.

“That’s quite a secret you’re showing me.”

Altea shot me a quick, humorless glare. She was on edge, just like when she’d left the night before. Her hurried steps lead us to a narrow corridor with four doors on either side. Every door had a thick, heavy lock on them. Torture chambers, their purpose went unsaid.

On the last door on the left, Altea stopped. She looked at me, “You saw the killer last night, right?”

They had connections deep into the Militia if she was asking me that. Focusing on hiding my nervousness, I nodded. Altea unlocked the door.

I peered inside where a woman dangled under a light by chains that attached to the ceiling. Black hair hung loosely over her face. Her simple, white work shirt and pants had strips cut away, obviously where her interrogators had decided to persuade her to talk. Altea demanded, “Was this her?”

I hesitated and Altea loudly repeated her question. The figure was similar. Lean, powerful but still soft. A trembling hand reached out to touch her hair. It was damp and tangled. How long had she been hanging here? How had they captured her? Questions buzzed in my mind.

 Parting the captured woman’s hair, her head lifted up. Silver eyes opened to look into mine. I fell backwards onto my ass and started scrambling to get away. Smacking into the wall knocked the words out of me, “Yes, that was her!”

    “Oh, you remember me, I’m flattered,” mocked the captured assassin. Placing a hand over my chest, I reminded myself, she was captured. Chained. As I watched her flip her head so her hair was out of her vision, I managed to get my feet under me. The hammering in my chest slowly turned into a steady drumbeat as I reminded myself of the situation.

Altea walked over and slapped the assassin several times across the face. Letting her nails leave fresh cuts. She seethed, “You arrogant bitch. I look forward to watching you die one drop of blood at a time!”

Even so, the assassin gave only a silent smirk.

“Altea, could you let me ask a few questions? I need to know more,” I pleaded.

The Matron spat in the assassin’s face, “Fine. You’ll have until we’ve fully prepared for her execution.” She quickly turned around and slammed the door shut. I could hear the heavy lock clack shut behind her. I was trapped. Yet, I was in charge. I stared into her eyes and then re-examined her again.

Muscular but lean. Much of her body was strong but for the plump curves of womanhood. She would be a sight to behold naked. Her skin a faintly tanned brown. My eyes watched her as she hung limply, trying to conserve her energy. Her grin spread as she asked, “You’re still scared of me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted. She began to speak and I cut her off, “Why didn’t you kill me?”

“Because you amuse me,” She answered and cut me off, “Did you figure out how I killed her?”

“No. Why did you kill her?”

“Cause I was contracted to. Why does it matter to you?”

 You can’t be brought to justice otherwise. What species do you belong to?”

“My own.”

I grabbed a chair and sat in front of the woman, “How did you know that woman was the daughter of the Duke?”

“I asked the one who had told her,” The assassin admitted as she knelt down to sit on my thighs.

 “What is your name?”

“Eos.”

“Why are you being so forthcoming, Eos?”

That only earned me a giggle. Pulling on her chains, I watched Eos’ head duck lower to reach my shirt. Biting on the top button, she kissed my chest and managed to undo the button with her tongue. I watched in amazement as she repeated the skillful act.

Taking a handful of her hair I demanded, “What are you doing?”

“Looking to enjoy myself. You heard her, I’ll be killed soon,” Eos leaned in and whispered, “And I love how you’re looking at me.” Her sweat-slicked hair slipped from my fingers as she undid more buttons and then kissed my chest. Her soft flesh melded against my own.

Ignoring my obvious arousal, I made this assassin look into my eyes. I was angry. I was being aroused, taunted and teased. I’d had enough, “Do you really think I’d lose myself to simple lust?”

“No, but I would like to imagine you’d be enough to knock answers out of me,” She smirked. Even now, chained and at my mercy, she didn’t seem daunted. She was about to be killed and laughed. She was insane, yet her eyes sparkled with such confidence. I growled at myself.

Fine, I would play her game. But on my terms.

I let my erection out of my pants. Immediately, I felt Eos lower her hips so I was nestled against her heated groin. Shamelessly, she pressed against me. I looked into her eyes, “How many have you killed?”

She whimpered but didn’t answer. So, I thrust against her as my hand pulled on her shirt. Thin fabric shred easily to reveal her heavy, mudbrick nipples atop ample breasts. I slapped her breast as I reminded, “I asked a question!”

“Nnnah! I’ve killed twenty-seven targets since coming here.”

 My fingers sunk into the soft flesh of her tits unkindly. Intent on bruising her skin, I gripped her chest tightly and pulled her down against my cock. Eos’ eyes fluttered as she ground against me.

“Who do you work for?”

Getting no response, I tore open her pants to reveal her swollen pussy. Juices glistening as I pressed the head of my cock inside. I thrust up roughly demanding, “Who do you work for?”

Eos cried out. Her tight inner walls clamping down around me with crushing power. Pushing deeper inside I made her squeal, “Honoria!”

The Honoria family? One of the church’s lapdog syndicates? My hips went on autopilot as my mind reeled with that revelation. The pleasure fogging my mind. Eos kissed me desperately. Moans and whines escaping us both as I bounced her up and down for my pleasure.

Using her relentlessly until my head rocked backwards, my cock erupted inside her quivering walls. Gasping and panting for air, I leaned back in my seat. Eos had ridden me hard and gave me a tender kiss once more. As she did, I watched as her shackles shattered. The metal broke into jagged pieces that floated impossibly around Eos.

Lowering her newly freed arms, the assassin stroked my chest. She whispered, “Mmm, that was fun. We will have to do this again someday.”

At that moment, I felt no fear of her killing me. She could have at any point. My shoulders slumped in defeat, “The questions wouldn’t have killed me, would they?”

“Nope, but it made it fun that you thought so.”

Eos lifted herself off me and used the remnants of her pants to wipe up the excess juices dripping along her inner thighs. I watched in a reverent ecstasy as she discarded the clothing. Her wonderful figure was a feast for my eyes. The metal hung around her as I heard the door swing open.

Meela, the halfling slave stood at the center. Her own eyes fixated on Eos. The assassin walked sensuously to the slave. Soft fingers stroking under Meela’s chin as Eos advised, “Stay down here until the noise stops.”

Meela nodded and closed the door when Eos went upstairs. Out of consideration, I made sure to tuck my cock back into my pants. By the time I did, I heard a thundering boom from upstairs. This was followed by crashes and deep groaning from the floorboards. The ruckus of a fight.

I’m not sure how much time passed but eventually, things grew silent.

Meela gave me a nod and we dared to venture back upstairs together.

“She just had to have doubled her body count,” I muttered as we reached the back room. A bloody mess was everywhere you looked and no table was upright. Discarded pistols covered the floor. I winced seeing Sinir and Altea next to each other in one corner. My eyes widened as I realized aloud, “Eos was working for the Honoria family, rivals to Nightsbane.”

“I just don’t get how she did it. You saw, she walked up here naked but I don’t see her body,” Meela observed as she walked over Altea. A single swift kick was all Meela gave. A whistle from outside distracted me from thoughts of the slaughter.

Black coated enforcers rushed in. The militia had arrived. Meela and I were escorted out and into their headquarters. Another long night of questioning occurred, made more complicated by the death of Altea as Meela’s owner. However, I offered an exchange, the feared assassin’s name in exchange for her. The militia was all too eager to learn the identity and get an artist to draw her.

Rather than dawn, it was midday when Meela and I arrived at my apartment. The halfling stole my bed and I got the couch again. Those silver eyes haunted my dreams. However, this time they pleaded and begged me. And I gave what I felt the selfish criminal deserved.

She was at my mercy. I made her yelp and whimper.

And I looked forward to seeing Eos again.