The spider Calls {Discontinued}

Chapter 6-7th June

He had spent the rest of the previous day tracking the number. It had taken a long time and a million records, but eventually he had done it.

He had traced the number back to an iPhone 6s, owned by one Sanjay Edwards. The murder victim from yesterday. It was too close to be a coincidence. As it hadn't been commited by the spider killer, Dacanery hoped the assassin or murderer had left a calling card of some kind that was recognisable and could be traced easily.

His phone rang, and he saw the caller ID. Detective Stevens. May as well find out why he's calling, Dacanery supposed.

"Detective Stevens?" He asked into the phone after picking it up.

"Speaking." Answered a firm voice. "Regarding the murder from yesterday there has been a calling card. From the assassin we've been trying to find recently."

"Right."

"I only told you." The other detective said drily. "Because you seem to know more than the rest of us on the assassin."

Damn. How to phrase it so Stevens would understand? "I don't know much more, but the briefing I had had planned was for the day the first murder happened."

"Fine." Well, that had seemed to do the trick.

"Well I have to go..." Dacanery trailed off.

"Ok, goodbye."

"Bye." Dacanery said before hanging up.

Well he had the calling card then. Time to visit the black bull, where the assassin was said to feature.

The drive took one and a half hour. The silence was so different to the hectic atmosphere of the station, trying to find the spider killer.

He scanned the scene once he entered the bar, sweeping the decor for hidden exits and entrances, likely suspects to who would be the assassin.

His eyes followed the course of the bar, till they reached a lone figure. In a smart suit. A shadow was cast over his face, rendering his identifying features near invisible. But Dacanery could see the snake tattoo peeking over the man's suit, the green head just above the collar, the demon red tongue glistening in the dim light like poison. He knew that if the man looked up, and his face was bathed in light, he would see the assassin's neat brown hair, smoky eyes and the scar just beneath his ear would also be visible.

The man looked up, his face bathed with the light Dacanery had predicted. And every identifying feature Dacanery had named was outlined on the man's face.

Dacanery walked over to the table. It was just the man there, no other people. He sat down, and the man's eyes narrowed, partly in distaste and partly in suspicion, mistrust and knowledge. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again. He thought for a few more seconds before deciding to speak.

"Why are you here?" He asked. The accent was nothing like the burly cockney accent Dacanery was expecting. It wasn't exactly posh, but someone who was born low and dragged themselves up from the gutter.

"Mr McAllister? I think you know why I'm here." The guy was Snake McAllister, a master assassin. Not as good as the spider killer, but then nothing could beat a supernatural monster, as he was now seeming to be. A serial killer with murders in the double digits, he had famously risen up from the gutter to become one of the best paid freelance assassins. Dacanery judged the man to be in around his thirties, early to mid thirties. But if only little was known about how to contact him, even less was known about his past. Nobody in the police force could work out a way to find out how he contacted the people he killed for. If they had, the police force would have probably already caught him. The police had trouble finding his history and creating a file on him, but at least it was easier to create a file on a human than the spider killer. And Dacanery would teacher have had to hunt down a hundred Snake McAllisters in this world than take down even one spider killer. But luck never smiled on him, did it?