Scar Ch. 01

The mayors countenance visibly brightened while answering, "You may be on to something detective!"

~~~

The following weeks; while emptying his bank accounts and abandoning his midtown apartment, Trent quietly faded into his old haunts; the city streets. Without further attacks; newspaper and public focus moved on to the normal mundane issues; traffic, weather, taxes, and the insanely fickle lives of the Kardashians. He chuckled inwardly at how easily they forgot; however, this very night, he would give them a grim reminder.

Overcast skies concealed his movements as he dispatched the perimeter sentries; swiftly sprinting across the parking lot, Scar jumped the parked cars, silently landing on the warehouse loading dock. Marcelo's trophy wife, and two sons, trying desperately to hold things together until Giovanni's release, called a meeting of the local lieutenants. Ears twitching, he could hear angry conversation from those attending the meeting; three of which were his primary targets, while the other four he considered a bonus.

Quietly gaining entrance to the building, and slipping closer to his goal, he heard Marcelo's wife speaking. "You can't possibly believe in some mythical rougarou doing this! There has to be a new player in town eliminating the competition; what else could it be?"

Suddenly appearing in the midst of the group, "I wouldn't be so sure it's not both," Scar growled menacingly.

Their inaction, caused by disbelief and fear, made for easy pickings. The four lieutenants, unable to move, died first; Marcelo's sons died watching their bowels spill onto the floor. Marcelo's wife, caught by her shoulders and struggling helplessly, screamed in horror as his massive jaws slowly ripped her head from her body.

State and local news media, receiving an anonymous tip about the warehouse attack, headlined the gruesome details through every outlet available; television, radio, newsprint and the Internet was awash with speculation. Authorities promised immediate action, parents were to keep their children inside their homes at night; angry citizens formed armed watch groups, emptying stores of weapons and ammunition.

Absolute chaos ruled the city.

~~~

"I want every pimp, whore, and known criminal brought in for questioning, somebody has to know something," the police chief ordered, ending the briefing. Pulling Detective Navarro aside as the room emptied, he asked, "Any improvement on that scumbag Marcelo?"

"None," she answered, and then continued, "He's sticking to his story about a rougarou attacking his home. We haven't told him about his family yet, figuring it would decrease our chances for anything remotely relevant, and put him into a further psychotic tailspin."

"What's your thoughts on this," the chief asked?

"Unbelievably, considering the gruesome nature of the attacks; all the evidence points to an animal or unknown creature. As absurd as this sounds, it has to have inside information, and intelligent enough to understand how to use it; how else would it have known about the warehouse meeting or its location," Celeste responded.

"You believe it's not human," the chief inquired surprised.

"At the risk of losing my job," she began reluctantly, "taking out sixteen armed guards before entering the Marcelo mansion, and eleven more inside; plus, the seven at the warehouse along with the sentries, and in such brutal fashion; does that sound human to you?"

"Well, when you put it that way, no. If we don't find this..., thing..., and soon; we'll all be out of a job," he replied uneasily.

~~~

The seemingly endless line of street scum, questioned over the past few days, proved entirely fruitless. There were plenty of hypotheses; from the rougarou to interdimensional alien beings; some suggested evacuating the city, others simply said, they could go fuck themselves.

While at a city diner, an exhausted Celeste pushed her food around on her plate, wondering if she really believed what she told the chief earlier. Surely, her grandmothers' stories couldn't be true! There has to be some rational explanation, she told herself. With no reports of random attacks, and targeting the Marcelo syndicate only, there's undoubtably a reason, a vendetta righting a wrong; something or someone behind the scenes is missing, or better yet, hiding; but whom?

Figuring she'd likely regret the answer, she dropped a twenty on the table and walked out.

~~~

Finding a ledger sitting on the front passenger seat of her car, and looking around cautiously before opening the cover; she retrieves a typed note, which reads:

Detective;

This is the original accounting ledger I took from the Marcelo mansion the night I attacked. I've decided my recent activities have, regrettably, put you in harm's way. If you try to find me, it wouldn't end well should you succeed; also, it's obvious, you could pursue the contents of this ledger with far less violence than I ever could.

I'll be watching; just do your job; follow the money... or I'll finish this my way!

(Scar: Chapter 1 of [or the END?].