Conticent

I fixed my eyes on the ground and bit my lip, frustration gnawing at me. Leo continued talking to James over the phone, discussing the autopsy findings—how she was killed and when, give or take. Everything was getting more tangled by the minute. These kinds of cases were the ones I hated the most. Most of the time, the cases were straightforward: a wraith goes berserk, kills everyone in their path, we track them down, and stop the madness. But this? This was turning into a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

“It could be the bite,” Leo said, switching the call to speaker so I could hear. “Maybe she instantly turned before she was killed, these things happen even if it’s rare. That’s why the autopsy is so messed up?”

“It’s possible… probably what happened,” James replied. “You talk to the landlord?”

“Yeah,” Leo said, glancing at me. “Miranda’s definitely hiding something. We’re headed to the station now.”

“Alright,” James responded. “I’ll be talking to the eyewitnesses from the stadium.”

Leo nodded, stepping into the elevator as the doors opened. “Let’s meet up at Golden Cats afterward.”

“Right,” James agreed. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

—

Leo entered the room without a word, dragging the chair across the floor deliberately, making that unsettling, ear-piercing screech. He positioned the chair closer to Miranda, his eyes locked on her, then sat down. I followed suit, pulling the coffee table toward me and lowering myself onto it. The tension in the room was thick, and Miranda’s fear was starting to show; she could feel the pressure as we closed in, both of us on edge and pushing hard.

“What was it that Alisha wanted to talk to you about?” Leo demanded, his tone sharp and cold, skipping the usual formalities.

“W—what?” Miranda stammered, startled.

“Don’t answer the question with another question, Miranda.”

Her face twitched, a mix of nerves and confusion, before she quickly masked it, her expression turning neutral. “Oh… you must’ve talked to Jeremy, Alisha’s landlord, right? She tells him everything…”

Leo wasn’t having it. “Miranda, again, another question…”

She faltered, then sighed in defeat. “Okay, yes… she wanted to talk to me about something important. She was looking for a man to marry so she could get her temporary citizenship. She asked for my help.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you mention this from the start? And what did you do?”

Her gaze dropped as she fidgeted with her hands. “We went to a bar, tried to find someone. But… Alisha is—was shy. She didn’t find anyone. We stayed at a nearby hotel, then the next day, Friday, I suggested we go to the football match, hoping we’d have better luck there… but she was murdered before anything could happen.”

“Where’s this bar and the hotel?” I asked.

“We started at Polished—then I don’t remember what we did. I was, well, kind of drunk and high on red crystal.” She said, “I vaguely remember we stayed at a hotel.”

Leo leaned back, arms crossed. “She was reported missing on Friday. So you were at the hotel that day? Before the murder?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding slowly.

“Did you notice anyone acting strange around you?”

“No, no one,” she replied quickly, shaking her head.

Leo let out a small, frustrated breath, then spoke sternly. “Next time, don’t leave out important details, Miranda. Now, is there anything—anything at all—you’re not telling us? Even the smallest thing can make a difference.”

She shook her head, her lips tight. “No, nothing else.”

I stepped in, watching her closely. “Where was she working? Jeremy told us she was paying her rent on time, never missing a day. Without legal papers, finding a job shouldn’t have been easy for her. She was getting money from somewhere.”

Miranda looked away for a moment before answering. “I’m not going to sugar-coat it—she was working as a hooker on Bark-Bark Street.”

“Hmm,” I nodded, taking in the information. “She had a pimp?”

“Yeah, a guy named Don. Most people call him Big Don.”

“Where can we find this Big Don?” I asked.

“He’s in Polished, Yukaru Megabuilding.”

Leo stood, brushing his hands on his pants. “Alright, I’ll ask around Bark-Bark about Alisha. C, you check on Don. Take Jane or James with you—don’t go alone. You never know what might happen, ya know?”

“Hmm,” I agreed, rising to my feet. “Got it.”

I dialed James as I left the room.

“James,” I began, after he picked up the call. “You free? Alisha was a hooker in Bark-Bark street. I’m going to talk with her pimp now.”

“Take Jane.” He said. “Alisha’s—uh, working friends are here. I’m talking to them right now, C.”

“Gotcha. See you at Golden Cats.”

“Yep.”

—

Jane stood in front of Yukaru Megabuilding, sipping her cold coffee as neon lights flickered overhead, bathing the streets in an unnatural glow. Towering skyscrapers surrounded the area, their sharp, angular forms piercing through the dense fog that clung to the lower levels of the city. Gigantic holo-ads blinked with vibrant colors, promoting everything from synthetic food to cybernetic enhancements.

The streets were packed, but the people moved sluggishly, their faces hollow and tired, worn down by the weight of their daily grind. Trash littered the corners, and the distant hum of machinery filled the air, giving the whole area an industrial, oppressive atmosphere. The Megabuilding itself loomed over everything, its structure cluttered with balconies and cables, glowing windows, and pulsing lights, a concrete beast holding a hundred different lives inside its metal walls.

Parking the car by the side of the road, I hopped out and made my way over to her. Jane glanced at me, tossed the last of her coffee into a nearby trash bin with perfect aim, and wiped her hands on her jacket.

“Hey, C,” she greeted, nodding. “Heard about what went down with Miranda and the landlord.”

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice carrying a hint of frustration. “It’s all getting complicated.”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “She was already dead, huh? Though, Leo thinks the autopsy can’t be trusted since she was bitten. I agree with him, to be honest.”

“Hmm,” I muttered, not entirely convinced. “Eh, let’s just go and talk with this Big Don.”

We walked through the automated sliding doors into the apartment lobby, greeted by a strange mix of luxury and grunge. The place felt like an overworked tech hub, with worn-out couches lining the walls, but the residents were anything but relaxed. A few people lounged in VR headsets, twitching their hands in the air as they played games or watched immersive holo-dramas. The ceiling was low, crisscrossed with exposed pipes and wires that made the space feel claustrophobic despite its size.

We approached the reception desk where a bored-looking woman sat, her fingers tapping away at her computer. She barely glanced up as we walked over, then returned to her screen.

“Hi,” I said, leaning on the counter. “We’re looking for a man named Don. Which floor is he staying on?”

“Mr. Don doesn’t want to be bothered,” she replied flatly, eyes never leaving her screen. “You should call him first.”

“We gotta see him now,” Jane interjected, flipping open her ID for the woman to see. “We need to speak with him.”

She shrugged, clearly unimpressed. “I don’t care if you’re cops, gods, or whatever. No means no.”

“At least let him know we want to talk to him?” I asked, trying a different approach.

“Nope. I can’t do that. Anything else?”

I turned to Jane, frustrated. “I’m calling Captain Helion. He can get us a warrant.”

“No,” Jane grabbed my arm, stopping me mid-reach for my phone. “We can handle this.”

“Hmm…” I muttered, giving her a skeptical look. “Alright, what’s the plan, then?”

Before Jane could answer, the elevator doors slid open, and we came face to face with Big Don. Just like in the photo—bald head, strong jawline, muscular build. His brown eyes narrowed the moment they saw Jane’s badge, and his hand immediately shot to the elevator panel, frantically pressing the close button.

I nudged Jane, catching her attention. “Look.”

Don’s panic was clear. The doors were taking longer than usual to close, and as soon as he realized that I was coming for him, he bolted through the corridor toward the back exit.

“Shit!” I shouted, breaking into a sprint. “Stop! Police! Stop!”