The Detective and the Cult
There were five of them–each one had a bandana wrapped around their heads, and on each bandana the insignia of the Order of Blood and Bones was painted.
They were all smiles and laughs as they circled around me. I had no way of escape except for me to fight my way out—an option that would not end well for me I knew, but I had no other choice. I raised my fists as I eyed for the weakest one of them.
“Would ya lookit that,” I heard one say from behind me, “the lad wants to fight.”
That drew more laughs.
I spat on the ground. “Come on you nancies,” I said, forcing myself to smile, “I ain’t got all day. Let’s get this over with.”
Their smiles turned into scowls. “The lad ain’t nice. How about us teach him a lesson eh, boys?”
“Do not touch him,” said a voice from somewhere.
The five men relaxed and looked at the direction where the voice came from. I saw a lady clothed in a flowing scarlet dress. She smiled as she walked towards me.
“Priestess,” one of the men said in a hushed tone.
Priestess? I was surprised. I didn’t expect to see a good-looking doll to be the head of an underground cult.
“You must be the detective that’s been causing us trouble,” she said in a voice I wanted to drown in. She stood about a foot away from me while the five men were standing behind me and on my sides—making sure I don’t escape.
“Want an autograph toots?” I said.
I felt a hand smack me on the right side of my head. “You should talk to the priestess with more respect!” shouted one of the men.
“You better ask your pets to ease up. They hit me one more time and I’ll mop the floor with their ugly mugs.”
The Priestess laughed. “I like you. What’s your name, detective?”
“March. March Chandler.” I reached inside my pocket for a stick of cigarette.
“March Chandler,” the Priestess said as if tasting my name with her tongue. “I want you.”
I hadn’t time to ask what she meant. She gave a nod to one of the men and I felt a strong blow at the back of my head. The world collapsed on me and I fell unconscious to the floor.