Silence and Stilettoes, Pt. 6 (Voting)

(Here it is, Silence and Stilettoes Part 6! Check it out now, vote below, and Daring+ fans pick up the accompanying Wallpaper here too! Be sure to check out the full story so far here at the Master Post!)



“Well… this is a surprise. Poison. Well… potentially. So, Mark was exposed to chemicals that might have killed him is seems, so much so it soaked into parts of his skin. What’s more, his body is completely gone, now no more than ash the likes of which fill the air in the industrial part of town, or that falls from the end of the cigar between my teeth. ‘Orders’, Kelly told me. That’s a lead worth running down in itself, but running straight at anyone who could call those kind of shots is dumber than waving a gold chain around openly in the alleys of the Rat’s Nest.

I grumble to myself as I lean on the morgue’s furnace, watching Kelly go about her work a while longer until the embers of my smoke threaten to nip at my lips. By now my head is feeling about as well as I should expect it can be… I’ll make sure Selina gets what’s coming to her for that cheap shot in good time. For now, I have one last lead to run down before the darkness of the night reaches its thickest. My God, it’s been a long day…

Closing my newly acquired files with a ‘pumph’, a simple nod is my goodbye to Kelly, a stern yet compassionate look is my final attempt to convince her to come see me with anything else she finds… it’s up to fate now if she ever crosses my path again. With a flick I toss the butt of my cigar into the fire of the furnace and with that I take my leave.

The sweat rolls down my brow as I step out into the dark night streets… damn it was hotter down there than I thought. The moonbeams and the gaslight are all that brighten up the dingy boulevards… yes, the old-timey façade of a Victorian London covers up the true face of the Downtown district. It rots from the shadows like the rest of this city. Whistling through my fingers I hail a cab, a real one, with an engine, not a daft Hansom one… it’s as dangerous to walk these streets this late as anywhere else, it just has a higher class of criminal is all.

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A few minutes pass, and one bumpy ride later I find myself on the outskirts of the city, where the urban and urbane turns to automated and the adamant, the skyline of ‘Alloy Town’ crowds my taxi window. Smokestacks fill the backdrop while warehouses, factories and forges cluster in droves in all directions. This is where the work was once done, long ago this industrial centre was the driving force of our fair city, where men would sweat and toil until the steam chime would holler and the sun set… it was thanks to them this burg was even on the map, and now it’s practically gone.

The car comes to a halt right about where I told the driver to take me, and for his efforts I toss him a few battered and wrinkled money notes from the back seat, and extra buck or two in there as a bonus for his silence on the ride over. I bet I’m not the only one in this cab that is getting screwed money-wise. Closing the door with a back-angled tap of my boot, I let the driver speed off, leaving me alone in the run-down rust city… maybe I should have had him idle for me, it’s going to be near impossible to get another cab way out here, but then again I’ve no guarantee I’ll be leaving here before daylight. Ivy always has her price after all.

Amidst the dilapidated, rundown and neglected manufacturing sites that once fuelled the city’s fires, a small out of the way construction hut stands in contrast to all around it. Where everything else is rusted, a dull brown spreading across the matte metal greys, Ivy’s home and lab is overgrown in greens, as vibrant and healthy as a forest untouched by man. Vines and climbing wisteria make their home across the prefab’s walls, thick grass lines the beaten soil pathway to the door and even a lone apple tree grows tall in the back of her garden… I swear it’s grown at least 6 feet since I last saw it, and that was only about 6 months ago…

Ivy sure has a green thumb, and a genius level intellect when it comes to chemicals, potions and indeed poisons, hence her nickname… she’s the go to girl for forensics for those in the need. She’s seriously mad scientist level. I’d take a bet she’s suffered some damage from all those chemicals she’s breathed in over the years. As is the way of balance and all this fair, what she excels in information wise she lacks in common sense, and by extent, social skills. It’s for that reason she’s only found way out here in the boondocks, and why she’s starving for sexual stimulus every time I see her. I expect tonight’s no different. Sorry Asana, but you may want to leave the light on while you wait for my return.

Stepping up to her door I give it a knock… and after a chirring groan it swings open with an eerie creak. What’s worse is the stench, that fowl, herbivorous, stale ammonia-turned-chlorine with a twist of fermented herring hits me right out here on the stoop. I wretch. Then I enter, one hand covering my mouth as if it would do any good.

It’s almost as warm in here as it was in the furnace room of the morgue… but while cooler, it’s so very humid. Damn these hothouse flowers. Pushing passed shelves of plants and dangling runners, avoiding a crowded bench of experimental equipment that bubbles away carelessly, I head deeper into the cramped storage box that now gives life to Flora over Machina. It looks far smaller outside than it really is on the inside. I must have crossed most of the way through the makeshift lab by the time a voice rings out behind me.

‘Looking for me?’

My body stops, and the cloudy, heady smell of organics suddenly dissipates around me and just around me, replaced by a sweet, tingling invisible mist of natural pheromones… when I say natural, I mean plant based… I can’t be sure they’re not one of her own concoctions.

‘Back Again I see Roy… Leave whatever files you have on the bench over there, your pants too. I’m in need of some seeding…’

This is why I hate coming here. The puns in part, but mostly the degrading and downright bizarre sex. As stunning a woman she is… I’m glad this special arrangement is not one that’s ever become public. I turn on the spot and look her up and down… she’s one provocative woman. Time to get this over with… or, maybe I can get my answers first?”

What’s my next move?

(The poll will stay open 6 days, until about the same time as this post goes live, closing on Sunday 26th of May. Be sure to vote by then!)

Be hard boiled and beWilder!