III

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Beta(s) : King of Salt Pillars, Dr. Pestilence, Specalist, novanater, fangWolfsbane

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Co-Writer and Requester: Gib

Lead Editing: ChaosInRush

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"Once, twice, three times, I told you." The fat old man grunted, leaning on the railing of his shop's back door into an alleyway lined by filled garbage cans, old, rusted fence dividers and dully lit doors into other buildings stretching on around and above her.

"Why the hell not?!" Paz hissed, "This is the tenth place today that won't take good silver! What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know that's silver-"

"Oh fuck right off."

"-and besides, I don't have to explain shit to you, kid." He grunted and shrugged, flicking looks to either side, up the alley's length, and then up at the distant next level of the city. What he was looking for, Paz couldn't be sure, but he turned back to her with a frown and grunted, quietly, "Don't make a scene, kid."

"But it's good silver." She argued, pinched the bridge of her nose, and offered, desperate, "Look, take one and test it. If it's real, then you can-"

"Look, I ain't taking 'em no matter how much silver is actually there." He cut her off, stepping back and reaching for the door. "Now get gone, before someone rough 'n stupid finds a young lady all alone out in the back-alleys. You should know how damn dangerous level two is. Especially back in the alleys…"

"I do, but-" He slammed the door in her face and she sighed, backing away and throwing a middle finger up as she turned away. She laced the sack she was carrying the trove in up and slung it around the front of her stomach. One hand resting on it protectively, she grumbled, "All damn day with this shit… What, did everyone go in on a silver mine or something?"

She had no idea, but it was making her feel anxious…

Something was wrong with all of this.

Curious, she looked up, searching for whatever the hell the old man could have been looking for…

But all she could see were the drab old buildings, rising up side-to-side around her to the dark sky, where she could make out the barest hint of the next level through the smog and fog. There were a few long concrete slabs stretching between the buildings that stood further apart, and she could see the headlights of cars driving along them, but she couldn't make out anything standing on any of them. Not at this distance. And, so far away and down, amidst the concrete, building connecting piping, and meandering walkways, surely no one could see her, either.

Still, she felt like someone was watching her…

And, for once, she wished more of the lights mounted along the walls actually worked. Instead of sparking and sputtering uselessly.

"Fuck it." She swore under her breath, "Just gonna head home. Maybe tomorrow will be better."

For all the big deal the old man had made of it, level two was, strictly speaking, safer than where she and Rachel stayed. Or at least, this part was. The old mall she lived under was a few dozen blocks away, beyond the housing district she was in. But the best way to get there was to head away from it, to a rail station a couple blocks away with an adjoined maintenance hub. The maintenance yards were full of scrap and old sections of pipe, meant to be repaired or repurposed, that hid moving through fairly well. And the yard had more than one way into the sewers, which connected to the level's enclosed tram station, too. Convenient access for maintenance workers.

And, as it turned out, for rats, too.

The nice part about the alleys between the housing units was how quiet it was. The space was too tight for rats to make a nest, so aside from workers smoking or tossing their filth into the large dumpsters, or down large trash chutes that lead to who knew where, she was alone. It was nice, and meant that she was safe. Or, when she did run into someone that wasn't more interested in their e-cigarette than her, it meant she knew it off the bat.

Which could be the difference between a beating and not.

The alleyway wound and twisted at sharp angles as she meandered along its path, until she reached a wider, circular maintenance section. It was surrounded on all sides by towering, rusted and decrepit atmospheric machines that crawled several stories up the corners of the buildings around her and snaked out along the buildings to distribute hot and cool air wherever it was needed. Most of them were fenced in, at least partially, but those were rusted away in places and missed whole sections of fencing. But more important than all of that…

The noise they made made them a favorite place for gangs to get together.

There were only three of them, dark-skinned with bright, swirling tattoos that crawled over the entirety of their bare backs, chests and arms, but Paz drew to a stop at the edge of the alleyway anyway. In the spotty, dim lighting, the tattoos glowed faintly in a wash of bright reds, purples and pinks that lit their skin in neon. They wore tight, worn pants that let splashes of vibrant neon through where it was thinnest, but more importantly, she could see they didn't have much in the way of weapons.

Beyond a couple of old, duct-tape wrapped bats, anyway.

"Hey, doll." The oldest out of the three called out, leaning against the wall behind him with his hands laced behind his head. She gave him a tiny nod in greeting and he grinned a wide, neon-lit grin - even his teeth had been inked to glow.

What kind of crazy person injected ink into their teeth?!

"Me an' the boys were just hangin' out, 'bout to hit up level three for something fun." He cocked his head to the side, eyeing her up blatantly. And hungrily enough she wanted to run. And would have, if she wasn't sure they'd take it for an invitation. When she didn't, he flicked his gaze back to her and asked, "You wanna come with?"

"N-No, thanks." She almost winced at her stupid stammer, and rushed to add, "I already have some plans with someone."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." She murmured and added, after a second, "Sorry."

"Whatever, doll." He sighed and leaned back, letting his eyes close and shrugging. "No skin off my teeth."

Seeing her chance, she gave them a wide berth and tried to cross over to the other alleyway. She could see the maintenance yards maybe forty feet away, down their path. She made it a few more steps and felt something jerk her back by the neck of her hoodie. The ganger spun her around and threw her, stumbling, back the way she'd come from.

And straight into one of those shoddy bats that swung in and sent her reeling.

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The old subway was… Interesting, in a weird, almost archeological kind of way.

Filthy enough to give her a headache, but interesting, too. Even just the architecture was so different to what she'd seen so far. Arches, dilapidated and crumbling but made of still-fine brickwork colored a dull russet red, and lights set into fine, iron sconces that cast warm light and shapes onto the ceiling and walls around them. If they were still hanging at all, that was. Or even lit…

"Honestly," she sighed, "it's a wonder this all hasn't burned down…"

That might have been explained by all the leaking pipes… Cause of the mold she could see on the ceilings and walls, she was sure. But that just begged the next question - who the hell hadn't noticed their absurd water rates?

Ah, well, she had bigger concerns, she supposed…

The girl was as inattentive as she'd been when Budhu first arrived in the dank, decrepit subway, but Budhu supposed that wasn't her fault. Not really. She was hard to perceive at the best of times, a very literal part of her charm - or, well, Victor's in some cases. She fingered the broach on her chest, a dainty little violet made of some thin but powerful metal she couldn't place, and sighed. The shadows molding around her were her own power, and meant the disguise Victor had given her was useless, but…

Well, it'd still be useful.

Whenever the other brat showed up…

"Where the hell is she?" Budhu's ears quirked as the woman stood up, pacing around the little space the two women seemed to call home. "It's been hours…"

So Budhu wasn't the only one getting impatient…

"Fuck this." The redhead grunted finally, after another half an hour of pacing and muttered swears. She pulled a hoodie on, old, ratty and grey, and tucked the hood around her ears as she made for the door Budhu was standing beside. "Stupid little shit, making me go out and find you…"

Budhu's ears flicked in agitation - she wasn't supposed to be seen now, not yet, but if Red Head left then Budhu would either lose sight of her while she waited on the other to get back, or not know when the other got back at all. Victor had made it clear he wanted them both, though. He hadn't said why yet, but that part had been clear, and Budhu gnawed at her lip as the woman brushed by, trying to think of what to do.

'Well,' she supposed, 'I guess stealth was optional…'

She pushed off the wall and felt the shadows around her drag across her form as they broke away and fell back into their natural form. The woman had already passed her, but her instincts had to have told her Budhu was there - she flinched, hands coming up in fists, and spun on her heel. But Budhu was shorter than she expected, and her instinctive punch swept over her head without so much as blowing air across Budhu's hair. Budhu's hand snapped out and up, and caught her by the wrist. Yanking it down, she dragged it with her as she swept behind the red-haired woman and drove her foot into her calf, forcing her down and bending her arm up for leverage to press her into the ground.

"The fuck did you come from-"

"You don't want to know." Budhu cut her off, settling both knees on the woman's wrist, just below her shoulder-blades, and leaning back. "Where's your friend?"

"Where's-" The woman scoffed, turning to look up past her shoulder and glaring at Budhu. "I don't know what you're on nabout."

"Mmm, I really do think you do, though." Budhu countered, then sighed, and offered gently, "Look, we don't want to hurt either of you. But you gotta understand, kid, you stole something that belongs to someone you don't steal from."

"Someone I don't…" Budhu made a show of dramatically dragging her finger across her throat and saw the fear flash through her eyes. After a minute or three, she finally relaxed and sighed, resignedly, "L-Look, I dunno where Paz is. Okay?"

"Really?"

"She's supposed to sell our haul." The woman answered, voice quiet and weak. Terrified, even, which made sense - Budhu had basically materialized out of thin air and overpowered her. If she wanted, she could just kill her now, and the woman had to know that. "But she's been gone way too long… I'm worried."

"About…?"

"I dunno," the woman hissed, "maybe that someone jumped her?"

"Touche." Budhu sighed, then thought, and rolled to the side and stepped off the woman. She rolled over and scrambled away to the wall, then dragged herself up and glared at Budhu. Budhu only crossed her arms, though, and said, "So, where'd she go, then?"

"To sell some of the loot…"

"Some?" The woman laid a hand on the pouch of her hoodie, and Budhu nodded. "Alright, where would she do that?"

"Uh…" The woman blinked, "Level two? Three? There's, uh, shops in the tenements."

"Got it." Budhu nodded, raising her hand and rubbing her finger over the ruby of the ring she wore. She felt it heat up as the connection formed and solidified, and then whispered into it, "Boss, the girl still isn't back. Her friend, the red-head-"

"Rachel." The woman grunted sharply, shrinking in on herself when Budhu rounded on her, one brow raised. Quietly, she said, "M-My name's Rachel."

"Rachel, apparently," Budhu rolled her eyes, "said the other girl has been gone way too long. She says she should be somewhere on this level, but she doesn't know where. Do you want me to bring the girl to you and head out to find her missing partner?"

"No." Victor said, voice materializing in her ear, like he was standing over her. "I have a feeling I know where she is…"

"You do?"

"I can… Feel it." The hair on Budhu's arms stood on end at that, but Victor went on. "I will find her myself. Watch the other girl, and thank you, my dear."

"R-Right, boss." Budhu nodded and turned to the other woman as the ring cooled, and its power slept. "He'll find your friend. For now, you and I are going to get to know each other. And you're gonna tell me all about her, too. Sound fun?"

"Sure…" Rachel sighed, backing away into her space warily, "Sounds great."

"Awesome…" Budhu sighed, leaning against the side of the door and frowning.

Things had been going so well today, too…

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Paz came around painfully slowly, tasting copper and trying to ignore the dull throb that swelled behind her eyes with every heartbeat. Her throat was dry and rough, and she coughed as she tried to breathe, which only made her headache worse. Each cough and heave sent fresh waves of almost nauseating pain radiating through her head. She blinked her eyes open and winced at the bright light, groaning quietly.

Until a hand struck her across the side of her face and she gasped, "Fuck!"

"Mornin', Doll." The ganger sneered, pacing back and grinning his wide, stupid neon grin again. He spread his arms out to either side, glowing brightly in the dully lit room, and added, "Welcome to our lil' slice of paradise."

"Hng…" Bleary eyed, and with a busted lip and nose now that she was awake enough to tell, she turned a look around the room.

It was a mostly normal hab-unit, like a hundred others she'd been in, wanted or not, since she was young enough to remember. It was rectangular, with the door out right behind the ganger and another in the corner that would let into the tiny bedroom. Habs like these didn't have their own bathrooms, normally there was a communal one in the hall. Aside from the man himself and his two goons lingering by the door, all she could see from her spot hanging against the wall was an old, ratty couch shoved into the corner by the door.

And all kinds of trash.

Trash, just, everywhere…

And, god, the swirling neon paint smeared everywhere made her eyes water. It was obvious that the neon ink was part of their whole 'thing', but did that mean they had to put it everywhere? Evidently it did, obviously, but…

Head throbbing, he managed to force out, "W-What do you want?"

"Answers to questions, Doll." He chuckled, turning and moving over to collapse on the couch. Arms stretched out along its back to either side, he set her foot on his knee and chuckled. "Well, a few billion credits and someone hot 'n soft in my lap, but… Answers to questions for now. Startin' with your name, Doll."

"Princess Salan." She grunted, and spat a glob of blood out on the floor between them.

"Funny…"

"M'serious." She forced out, heart racing and head aching as she tried to work out a way out of the whole situation.

"Uh huh, uh huh." The man sighed and leaned his head back, eyes rolling closed as he grunted, "Dominic?"

"Mhm." The larger man grunted, crossing the room in one long step. His fist came back and down, and Paz grit her teeth.

Somehow, her back slamming into the wall and the chains wrapped around her arms yanking on her skin hurt as much as the fist did. Coughing, she used the time the large man, Dominic, spent moving back to the door to steal a look up. A loop of the old chains had been tossed over an old meat-hook bolted onto the ceiling. The loop itself was more than wide enough for the chain so, hopefully, she could throw the loop off the hook if she could get enough momentum for it.

But her feet were half a foot off the ground, and taped at the ankles and knees, which made doing anything about it right now… Hard.

So, she grit her teeth and glared at the man lazing on the couch.

"Now, wanna try again?"

"Candace."

"Candace…?"

"Candace foot fit up your ass?" She smirked and spat at him again, and then grit her teeth as Dominic turned and trundled back over.

This time he hit her in the side of her head, which made her vision spin and her head ache even more. Distantly, she heard the ganger get up off his couch and felt Dominic's hand fist in her hair, yanking her up to meet his eyes. Even with his underling there, the older ganger felt a need to grab her by the throat and press her back into the wall so he could lean in and sneer.

"You sass me again and I'll pull your damn fingers off until you beg me to let you answer my questions." He threatened quietly, "Then, when I'm done, I'll strip you down, ink a target on your back, and set you loose down on level one with the real monsters. You got me?"

Head spinning, she murmured a, "Y-Yeah."

"Good." He let her go and stepped back before he grunted, "Eh, Dominic, one more for good measure. Eh?"

"Mhm." The man pivoted and, fist still holding her up by her hair, slammed another blow down into her chest. It drove the air out and left her to hang, limp in the chains, and wheeze for breath.

"Now," the ganger sighed, "your name, Doll?"

"P-Paz…"

"See? That's better." He chuckled and went back to his couch, lounging across it with his feet resting one one of the arm-rests and his head on the other. "Now, I know you scored a day or so ago. Somethin' big. Special."

"W-What?"

"What, do I still not have your attention?" The ganger snapped irritably, "Cause if not I, don't mind letting Dominic have some more fun."

"N-No, I just… Don't understand."

"What's so complicated?" He sighed and crossed his arms, head bobbing to either side boredly. "I want the rest of your score, and I wanna know what the hell it is."

"J-Just some jewelry." She answered, coughing up another bit of blood, this time from a gash on the inside of her cheek, and spitting it out on the floor. "M-My old ring and just… Random crap."

"Ugh." The nganger grunted, "Dominic?"

"Mhm."

"W-Wait, I'm bering-" The door opening cut her, and Dominic, both off. The large ganger backed up while his boss sat up quickly, straightening his hair and trying to look more… Well, more than he was.

The man that stepped in was old, and wrinkled, with long, wispy gray hair tied back into two long tails that trailed down in front of either shoulder. He leaned on a walking cane made of sterling, silver titanium capped with a marble grip, and wore a fine, dark blue suit that matched his hard, sharp eyes. Silent as the grave, he paced over to stand beside the lead ganger, leaning down to look at him expectantly.

"U-Uh," the man swallowed anxiously and dipped his head lowly, "Boss. Welcome to my, uh, my base."

"Your base? Hah, I suppose it is that, at the least." The old man grunted, watching him for a moment before turning to the other two gangers and cocking his head. Finally, he turned back to her, barely flicking a look up and down her while she hung her head, desperate to hide, before turning back to the lead ganger. "Terry, I trust, very sincerely, that you have a good reason to have called me all the way down to this… Filthy place?"

"Y-Yeah, Boss." The man grunted and stood, waving for Dominic to come over to Paz with him and then grabbing her hair and yanking her head back so the man could see her better. "Come 'n take a look what I found for ya."

Paz avoided the man's gaze, ice flooding her veins and entire body trembling.

She knew who this was, more or less - a member of the Circuit that ran pretty much everything as far out in the city as she had ever even heard about. And as far up, too. She knew they had rivals that controlled other parts of the… Well, of everything, really. But the 'borders' of the Circuit's territory ran further than Paz had ever even tried to learn, in every direction.

"And who is…" The old man's voice trailed off before Paz felt a hand on her face, turning her to face him. He stared into her eyes for only a second before he stumbled away, towards the door, and gasped, "You absolute fools…"

"What?" The lead ganger grunted, pushing off the wall and following the man. "What the hell do you mean, fools? Someone way up wants her, so we got her!"

"No." The man stammered, sweat pouring down his face as he turned for the door. "No, I-I can't be here- Not for this- Not when he-"

The door opened again, as the Circuit boss reached for it, and another man stepped into the room.

He was taller than all of them, and dressed in an odd, almost… Cop-ish uniform, with thick leather boots up to his knees and gloves to match up to his elbow. It was all a dull almost-black sort of brown, with thin gold and red laurels hanging off a shoulder and brass buttons that dotted down his stomach to the large, brass belt-buckle that kept the thick leather belt cinched around his waist. His collar was wide, fanning out to either side of his head almost like wings, with a bright red ascot in the center tied in front of a mildly lighter shirt. He kept his head dipped low, face hidden under a sort of officer's cap, as the door clicked shut behind him.

For a moment, he just stood there, in a quiet room.

"V-Victor…" The Circuit boss murmured, "Please, I-I didn't-"

"Shhh, Felix." The man whispered, stepping to the side and holding his hand out toward the door in an invitation. "I know you would never be quite so… Moronic. And I do hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

The Circuit boss, Felix, didn't waste time thanking him or even glance towards his fellows. He simply ran out of the room as fast as he could. As the door clicked shut again, Paz watched his cane roll across the floor with wide eyes. He hadn't even thought to keep a grip on it. It was worth more credits than she had, or probably would, ever even dream of, and he'd just left it there in his rush to leave.

To get away from this… 'Victor'.

"Now then." Victor said, pacing across the room and reaching up to take her by the chin. She stiffened, expecting it to hurt for the bruising if nothing else, but… His grip was gentle, almost kind, and only stung her bruising for the tiniest bit as he turned her head up and to the side, inspecting her.

"Bruised ribs." He murmured, pressing a finger to her side and drawing a hiss of pain from her. As her gaze came down, he went on, "A mildly fractured nose, a black eye, a cut to the side of her head… Hmm, inside the cheek, too, from the swelling."

Finally, their gazes met and she felt a thrill of fear settled into her stomach.

His skin was nothing like she'd ever seen. Dull gray skin, colored almost like steel, stretched all across his face. He didn't have lips, or a mouth, but he still sighed and murmured to himself as she stared at him. He turned his head and she could see the muscles and veins in his neck flex and work, like anyone else's, in spite of it all. And his eyes…

Bright red, like something out of her nightmares as a little kid, glowed faintly back at her in a terrifying almost-mimic of her ring's dull echo of light. Impossibly, he had a scar over one eye, jagged, deep, and a dark black.

"And there it is." He murmured, tapping the side of her head, right above one of her eyes. "How interesting…"

"What the fuck is goin' on…?"

"I'm checking her for injuries, you pathetic, luminescent little lark of a boy." Victor sighed, "Is that not obvious? Or are you too dim to even comprehend that?"

"You mother- Dominic!"

"Mhm." The large man grunted and grabbed Victor by the shoulder, turning him. Victor went with it without even a token resistance, and then spun sharply.

His hand shot down almost faster than Paz could even see, fingers steepled to a point, and then cut up. Dominic screamed and staggered away, turning away from the man and clutching at his arm. But Victor followed, pointed fingers launching in towards the small of his back.

And then disappeared into him.

He buried his arm halfway up to the elbow while Dominic screamed, and then yanked it out. As he toppled, Victor turned and held up a hand, Dominic's large arm hanging limp in his grip. In the quiet, he let go of the meaty, muscled and glowing arm, and it landing on the floor echoed in the room like a gunshot.

"Holy-" Victor swept in towards the other ganger as he leapt for the door, his hand passing through his neck and freeing his head like a blade, before he turned and advanced on the leader.

"What the fuck?!" The man screamed, turning and bolting for the bedroom. Victor followed him and a gunshot split the air. Then a second, and a third, before Paz heard him scream, "Don't come anywhere near-"

Something wet gushed from the room, and Paz felt her heart start to race. Pressing her back to the wall, she tried to raise herself up on her arms, and then pushed off the wall with her hips. She slid up the curve of the hook, but the chain didn't come free. It just scraped back down. A second and third try fared no better.

Then a hand gripped the chain and lifted her up, into the air.

Victor turned, carrying her like she didn't weigh a thing, to lay her on the couch. Kneeling, he grabbed her chains and gently disentangled them, talking as he did, "If you try to run, do understand that I will catch you."

"R-Right…" She'd seen what running accomplished. And shooting, too… Quietly, she murmured, "I-I won't."

"Good." Victor nodded and stood, turning for the door, "Come, then."

Too terrified to even ask where they were headed, Paz scrambled up and limped along behind him on stiff, aching legs.