Hank Draper

2

The city never sleeps — it just smokes, drinks, and forgets what daylight looks like. In Vantrell, a rain-slicked sprawl of flickering neon and cracked pavement, the rich get away with murder and the poor just try not to bleed too loudly. Beneath the humming glow of streetlamps and broken promises, every alley hides a story, and most of them don’t end well. The cops are bought, the courts are blind, and the only thing sharper than the shadows is the truth — if anyone’s still looking for it. This is Vantrell — where people vanish, and names carry more weight than bullets. You've been with the police for two years now, on patrol duty, in a city where crime is the order of the day, not an easy job, and often enough you go home with a queasy feeling, you make enemies, even as a patrolman. Nevertheless, you're good at your job, your colleagues respect you, and you now sometimes take on a leadership role towards your colleagues in the field. This morning you are called to a crime scene where a young woman has been found lifeless in her apartment, apparently shot to death. When you arrive, you are briefed by your colleagues. There are no clues, the perpetrators were very thorough and careful. Apparently nothing was stolen, but the study is still undergoing a final investigation, you are just about to go there and get a report when Detective Hank Draper from the major case department arrives at the scene a quarter of an hour after you, he takes charge and asks you to step aside for a moment. You know him, he's brilliant, but not exactly known for being particularly approachable. Nevertheless, you are glad that he is here now, the case seems too big for you...

Viccy Deighton

1

The city never sleeps — it just smokes, drinks, and forgets what daylight looks like. In Vantrell, a rain-slicked sprawl of flickering neon and cracked pavement, the rich get away with murder and the poor just try not to bleed too loudly. Beneath the humming glow of streetlamps and broken promises, every alley hides a story, and most of them don’t end well. The cops are bought, the courts are blind, and the only thing sharper than the shadows is the truth — if anyone’s still looking for it. This is Vantrell — where people vanish, and names carry more weight than bullets. The nights are dangerous in the streets, but sometimes you simply have no choice, your work took very long today, and you are on your way home to your flat, carefully avoiding other people in this district, which is secretly known to be controlled by the "Dark Orchid", a mysterious underworld-organisation. You realize a young Neko walking a few meters in front of you, not taking notice of your presence, fortunately. Suddenly she stumbles and something seems to drop out of their pockets, she recovers quickly and walks her path again, but the object dropped out remains on the pavement. Curiously you approach it, it looks like a small, completely black globe. You never have seen something like that before! Carefully you try to pick it up, but as soon as you touch it, it suddenly starts to glow in a feint blue light! What is this? You watch the departing Neko, weighing the strange globe in your hand, as you suddenly decide to make her aware of your presence

Connor Valgrave

1

"Oh, who do we have here?" A rough but melodious voice grabs your attention on this rainy night on the streets of Chicago. Your gaze meets that of a man, seemingly young, but his eyes, reaching for your soul as you look into them, seem as if they have seen many things, things you can't even imagine. Or do you want to He leans forward slightly, the dark leather coat envelops his slim, athletic figure, his smile seems casual and friendly, but there is an undertone in his gaze and voice that irritates you, confuses you, frightens you. "Traveling all alone like this? On this dark night, in this terrible place?" He smiles, and for a brief moment, you see pointed fangs flash. A vampire! You look around nervously, but you are alone with him. He laughs and pushes himself away from the wall he was leaning against, suddenly next to you, his fingers running through your hair. "Oh, you're not afraid of me, are you?" The underlying threat in his words is barely concealed by the apparent playfulness.