The world is a dangerous place. The World of Darkness, even more so. Crime is higher and poverty more extreme. Monsters prowl the streets and the suites, as billionaires spend lives as callously as drug lords in their never- ending search for more wealth. Amidst the darkness, some choose to fight back, tracking down a missing loved one and putting several bullets into the hide of the creature that ate them. Meanwhile, the rest of the world stays ignorant of the horrors around them.
Monsters who feast on human flesh lurk in the shadows. Each meal adds another name to an overpopulated list of missing people. An apathetic detective overlooks discrepancies at a crime scene to rush a case closure, his numbers are low this month and no one gets eaten as the “eye witness” suggests. It was probably drugs or someone who didn’t want to be found, Occam’s Razor wouldn’t have it any other way.
An old abandoned house has been vacant for nearly a century sits on prime real estate. No one has stayed long since, and rumor has it that the place is either haunted or built on a gateway to hell. A developer buys the place and plans to replace the house with a new condo building. On the last walk through before demolition a foreman smells something off, eggs or maybe sulfur, and sends two down to the basement to check for an active gas line. They never return. Creaky floorboards just come with old houses, but why does this one sound like a heartbeat?
A seven-year-old asks his dad to leave the light on. He’s afraid of the monster that lives under the bed. The tired father snaps and hurls insult after insult, displacing his anger over another round of layoffs at the plant on to someone more powerless then him. Between shouting “Be a man!” and “Grow up!” he turns the light off and tells the kid that monsters aren’t real before slamming the door shut. As the darkness settles in, the smell of cordite permeates the room. A voice that sounds like gunshots chuckles and says, “It’s just you and me now, kid. Don’t worry, you’ll repay the favor later.” Eight years later the favor has been repaid in blood, many times over. The boy now sits in Old Sparky as the monster looks out from behind the viewing room’s mirrored glass, sitting comfortably next to a governor keen on proving that he is tough on crime. Three hundred executions during his first term should play well in Iowa.
There is an old legend that a woman who lives in the back alleys traded her right eye to the devil for immortality. That she shows up once a month to chase children through the streets. The champion street racer laughs while taking a long drag from her cigarette and polishing her chrome bumper a little brighter. The legends got it backwards: the kids chase her.