Isla was fucked.

She couldn’t escape her father’s men. No matter what she did, no matter where she went, there was always danger lurking around every corner. She’d ran and hid as much as possible to conserve her energy, but when escape wasn’t possible, she had to fight however she could using whatever was available- broken bottles, traffic cones, a loose brick. She’d even thrown a tray of piping hot fries from a restaurant’s deep fryer.

And everyone inside that same restaurant had died because of her.

Don’t think about that, idiot, she chided herself. You need to not die yourself first.

Still, she wouldn’t last much longer. Her ankle was twisted. Her clothing was stained and torn in some places from knives. Her chin had a large purple bruise. People stared at her wherever she went, and she had no way of knowing if any of them were reporting on her current condition to her pursuers. She knew for a fact some of them (mainly Vincent) would laugh at how pathetic and desperate she looked right now.

Limping down the sidewalk, she turned the corner and suddenly found herself into a bustling side street, brightly lit by neon signs.

Fickster Street. She’d only heard rumours, but it was the ever-popular heart of the red-light district. Isla saw signs pointing to sex shops, strip clubs, seedy restaurants, and cheap motels- all places she was not interested in. But the dense crowd would serve a good place to blend in and hide as she moved further away from her last sighting.

Doesn’t make it any less awkward, though, Isla thought. Regardless, she plunged right in, pulling down the hood of her sweater to try and be less conspicuous.

She’d always thought such a place would be crowded with gross single guys looking for gratification, but there were a surprising number of women and couples as well, alongside various, barely clothed entertainers. She couldn’t ever imagine taking a boyfriend to a place like this, much less having a boyfriend that didn’t eventually get his throat slit open for associating with her.

What the hell am I even thinking about? Isla wondered if the stress and pain was driving her crazy. She glanced around to check if anyone was looking at her or following her- and saw them almost immediately in the crowd, straight behind her.

Demons.

They were way too close for comfort. Three men in midnight black suits with a red dress shirt, black tie, and black dress shoes, staring directly in her direct as they approached. Isla could see the slight bulge of pistols at their hip, but it wasn’t likely that they would start firing in the middle of a crowd this big. For now, she had to run-

A menacing grin formed on the lips of one of the men, sending Isla into high alert.

An ambushing arm began to wrap around her neck. She brought her chin down and slammed her back into her attacker.

The Demon barely budged from the move, but it let her slip out of his grasp and slam his jaw with a left hook. He fell to his knees, and Isla brought an axe kick down on the back of his head. Her attacker crumpled- and so did Isla with a yelp, cradling her injured ankle.

She whipped her head back around, expecting reinforcements, but the other men had disappeared into the crowd. People were starting to take even greater notice of her after the fight. Some were even recording, no doubt about to post her on their Instagram story with some cringey caption. Great, she'd be famous in no time.

Gritting her teeth in pain and irritation, Isla rushed back into the crowd, moving as fast her ankle would allow her, looking all around her. Where the hell had they gone? Were they waiting to get her alone so they could use their guns?

She found out her answer pretty quickly as a hand reached out, trying to grab her arm. Isla stifled a scream and pulled herself away, making her way further into the crowd- and straight into the clutches of another. She would have been screwed if a passerby hadn’t bumped into him, allowing her a window to dodge a bear hug.

They were using the crowd against her. She needed to get off this street.

Ducking into a shop, which was filled with all sorts of… things, for certain people who enjoyed them, she made her way to the back and jumped the counter, ignoring the cashier chewing her out as she searched for a back exit. She slammed open the back door, leading into a small alleyway. Maybe she could find a place to hide until the coast was clear.

Then a fist slammed into her jaw, and none of it mattered anymore.

----------------------------------------

“Commissioner! Commissioner!”

In another part of the city, a large crowd of reporters had formed outside of a fast food restaurant surrounded by yellow caution tape. The bright flashing red and blue lights of police cars illuminated the area as the city’s police commissioner made her way towards the crowd, trying to get to the crime scene.

“Is it true that this was the work of the Demons?”

“When are you going to address the city’s rising crime rate?”

“What do you know about the girl they’re chasing after?”

Ignoring the questions, the Commissioner pushed her way through the crowd, managing to make it through without getting a migraine. She observed the outside of the restaurant. Shattered windows. Bullet marks on the walls. A dead civilian on the ground being photographed by investigators.

Standing at the steps of the restaurant’s entrance stood an officer smoking a cigarette. When the Commissioner approached, he tossed a cigarette to the floor and stomped it out, nodding to her in respect. “Commissioner Prentice.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Lieutenant Singh. Do I need to inform your wife you’ve started smoking again?”

“Go ahead. I never actually quit, anyway.” He exhaled shakily. “Besides, I don’t think even my wife would even blame me after what I just saw.”

The Commissioner bit her lip. “How many?”

“I think… thirteen D.O.A’s total. Two of them are kids.”

Thirteen?

“And Isla?” the Commissioner asked, her heart pounding.

“She’s not inside, but she was definitely here based on eyewitness reports,” the Lieutenant said. “We think she managed to run out the staff entrance after.”

The Commissioner exhaled in relief. At least Isla had made it out, but thirteen people… the Demons were getting out of control, as if they thought they could get away with anything. That needed to change.

She spotted a security camera attached to the roof, right in front of the entrance. “What about the security footage?”

“The computers were wrecked, and they took the hard drives.” Lieutenant Singh muttered a few curses in Hindi. “These bastards always get away with the craziest shit.”

“Alright.” The Commissioner took a deep breath. “I’m going in.” She put her foot on the first step, but Singh grabbed her arm.

“Rachel.”

“Yes?”

“...Don’t blame yourself.”

She headed up the rest of the steps and opened the door. Immediately, she could smell it- the metallic scent of blood, overwhelming her senses.

The bodies were strewn around all over the restaurant- a family of four in the booth, an employee slumped against the wall behind the counter, an elderly woman sprawled out on the floor in a pool of blood. With a jolt, the Commissioner realized she was standing at the starting point. The Demons had begun shooting as soon as they had gotten their foot in the door. They clearly hadn’t wanted to leave any witnesses.

Shit...

As she made her way through the restaurant carefully as to not interrupt the investigators taking photos and evidence, her eye caught on one of the booths. A deceased young woman was slumped back in her seat, a bullet hole in her forehead. A laptop was open in front of her, but a bullet had gone through the screen, so its contents weren’t accessible. Across from the woman sat a half eaten burger meal combo, but there wasn’t a body to match.

Isla had been meeting with this woman, the Commissioner realized.

The woman herself had brown hair tied back in a bun and wore professional clothing. An expensive looking camera and purse sat beside her in the booth. Her face looked familiar…

“Oh, lord,” the Commissioner murmured. “That’s the Forth’s daughter.”

Lieutenant Singh appeared to her left. “Do you know her?”

“Not personally. But… someone I know does. She’s a reporter.”

“A reporter?” Singh frowned. “But wasn’t Isla already your informant?”

“She stopped at some point,” the Commissioner explained. “I think she learned something, something she couldn’t trust me with. Or the department in general.”

“That’s…” Singh trailed off, but the Commissioner knew what he was thinking. She’d had the same thought many times before. The only issue was the proof, which she’d been hoping Isla would have. She just needed to find her first.

Her phone began to vibrate. One glance at the caller ID made her wince. “Give me a second, lieutenant.”

“Of course.”

She stepped outside and put the phone to her ear. “Sophia, honey-”

“What happened? Is she there? Is she okay?” Her daughter’s voice on the other end was so frantic it hurt her heart.

“She’s not here, but she’s okay,” the Commissioner reassured her. “We’re going to find her, but you need to let me work, okay? It’s going to take time.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t forced her into this!” Another stab through the heart. “I know you needed her help. I know it was necessary, but-”

“You’re right, you’re right.” The Commissioner pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I’m going to find her, honey, I promise. Is your father there with you?”

“Mhm. He’s preparing his statement about this, I think. Was it… that bad?”

The Commissioner swallowed. “Just… tell him I’ll be home sometime tomorrow.”

“Okay. Cross your heart you’ll keep me updated.”

“I will.”

“Cross!” Sophia demanded.

Her mother sighed, wondering when her daughter would finally grow up. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’ll keep you updated.”

“Good. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

As soon as she ended the call, a shout came from inside from the Lieutenant. “Commissioner Prentice!”

Heading back inside, she found the Lieutentant inspecting the laptop. “What is it?”

“Look.” He brought his fingers to the top of the laptop. Besides the built-in camera was a small piece of black tape covering something. It was difficult to see what, but when the Lieutenant removed it, a bright green light shined back at them.

It’s been recording this whole time. For almost two hours.

“Shit!” The Commissioner snatched the reporter’s purse out of the booth and began fumbling inside it. “Look for a power outlet!”

“W-what- a power outlet?” The Lieutenant stuttered, looking around.

“We don’t know how much charge it has!” The Commissioner explained, as she jammed the charger into the laptop’s port. “If the battery runs out-”

As if on cue, the green light suddenly went out, and the Commissioner cursed so loudly the entire room went silent. All the investigators in the room were staring at her. She let the charger drop out of her hand and took a deep breath.

“...I want all the files on this laptop’s drive on my desk by tomorrow afternoon,” the Commissioner instructed, pointing at it. “No exceptions.”

One of the crime scene investigators spoke up. “But, Commissioner, that’s a Futurebound laptop. If it’s encrypted-”

“Then contact Futurebound and tell them to decrypt it,” she snapped. “If they don’t, tell them I’ll slap them with every charge that’ll stick and otherwise.” She turned to the Lieutenant. “You’re with me. We’re leaving.”

“Uh, sure,” the Lieutenant replied nervously as they exited the restaurant. “But where are we going, Commissioner?”

“To the source of this bullshit.” The Commissioner gritted her teeth. “Let’s go see Jin Ikari.”