System: Basic Roleplaying
"He could smell it from the outside. This was going to be bad. It was a noise complaint. The same number was playing over and over again on the CD and now the neighbours had had enough. If they had only bothered to go knock on the door it would not have been him, it would not have been a noise complaint. The smell of death was in the air.
It was the sweet, cloying smell of blood mixed with the smell of someone cooking dinner on the third floor. He had passed them on the way up. As he reached the top of the stairs he could see the only door to the attic apartment was slightly ajar. It was time to draw his gun, not that he thought that anyone was still there. That music playing for several hours would have driven anybody away.
He briefly considered waiting for his partner Jack who was just now taking the statement of the complainer, but if there was any glory to be had he wanted it to be his.
As he entered the apartment he could immediately tell that if someone was hiding, they where in the bathroom; it was a one-room apartment and the only body he could see from here was definitely not getting up. It was missing an arm and the loss was recent. If he hadn’t died from the shock of having it torn from his body, the blood loss would have killed him by now. The black linen of the bed looked wet and blood was dripping on the floor. The heat and humidity in this room was stifling, it was probably to drive away all thoughts about the terrible snowstorm outside that had lasted for weeks already.
If the attacker was hiding in the bathroom the gun sure wouldn’t help him, a lycanthrope or vampire with the strength to do this would also have the speed to take it from him. Besides that bullets didn’t affect them anyway. He was loaded for narcs and normal perps, not for paras. The city couldn’t afford silver bullets for ordinary uniforms.
He carefully walked toward the bathroom and as expected it was empty, weird but empty. Who but a new gothic crack head would paint their bathroom black? There wasn’t much furniture in the apartment, only a bed, and a bedside table that probably doubled up as storage, a couch and two big ass loudspeakers.
As he reached over the body to turn off the CD player mounted on the wall he glanced down. There right on the neck of the young man was two prominent puncture marks: Vampire! This looked just like the serial killings they had been told not to talk about, it was time to call in the Spook Squad."
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