The Underground

Chapter 6.1: Sinister Women

"This is a terrible plan."

Vivian glanced to the side, eyeing the vibrant but stubborn woman in the drivers' seat beside her. The radiancy of her friend had given her a headache. "It's like you have no faith in me at all," she pouted, batting her eyes at the big mean wolf who didn't spare her even a glance.

"I have faith in your stupidity."

"Oh, c'mon, you're overexaggerating."

Brienne flicked her eyes in Vivian's directions, her gaze leaving the road for only a second. "You're right – the word 'plan' is giving this idea too much credit," she countered, exasperation so heavy it dragged her lips into a frown.

"Do you have a better idea?" Vivian asked, fully expecting the silence of acceptance. She was wrong.

"Yes!" Brienne thundered, her knuckles lightening in color as she gripped the wheel furiously, "We report the prostitute as a witness, turn over the note as evidence to the lead detective of the case, and let Melanie do proper research on harpies so we have even the slimmest idea what the hell we're getting ourselves into!"

Vivian shook her head, crunching the note in her hand tightly. "No. There's no way they'll take you seriously after kicking you off the case. Besides, how are you going to explain how we found the information? You continued investigating against direct orders from your supervisor," she reminded, her words an extra layer of salt in the wolf's wounds. Silence fell between them.

Vivian tapped her fingers anxiously against the armrest between them, looking out the window to give her eyes a break from the frustratingly bright light of Brienne's soul. She sighed and tucked the note into her jacket, leaving it beside her notepad.

"I'm sorry, that was too much. But I really think this is the best plan. If we wait, the harpy might be gone by the time we get there. If we notify the police, they'll stop you from coming. And I already told Melanie what we learned, but she has no idea what 'harpy' could mean. The best way to discover what it is is to just," she paused, looking out at the coast of San Francisco as they approached the piers, "...find it."

Another second of silence broached the conversation, filled only by the sound of Vivian strapping the silver knife and wooden stake to her thighs.

"It's not legal to carry weapons lethal to the protected classes of supernaturals in San Francisco," the cop muttered. Vivian rolled her eyes.

"So, what, we're going to walk up and down the piers, with the best-case scenario being we find a vicious killer's lair?" Brienne questioned, pulling the car into a parking spot on the side of the street.

Vivian gave her a lean, cynical smile. "Yep. Let's go."

The two women left the car, crossing the street to approach the docks and warehouses that lined this section of San Francisco's coast. Pier 39 and forward used to be quite the tourist attraction, but even in those days, there were plenty of industrial and secretive areas outside of the tourist-friendly sections. With more blood than light in the streets, though, tourism had taken quite the decline.

Brienne glanced at a clean, black watch wrapped around her wrist. "Still got a few hours till the moon's out, but we can't take too long looking around," she said, crossing the street with Vivian following suit.

"I forgot tonight was a full moon – no worries, it shouldn't take long to at least poke our heads around," the other woman replied, waving away the concern with a small hand movement.

A poor choice.

The piers at the time were a grim sight to behold. The corrupted sun cast little light across the cold stone pathways and docks, leaving deep shadows to fall between towering warehouses. The splashing sound of the gentle pull of the sea and crisp salty air might have been enjoyable if it weren't for the overwhelming stench of fish and homelessness.

Brienne crinkled her nose in distaste as the women wound their way down the line of docks, peering at boats and examining buildings blocked off by thick chains.

"Did the note mention anything besides the piers?"

Vivian shook her head. "No, I was hoping my Super Special Seer powers would kick in," she paused to give the glowing wolf a sideways glance, "But now it's just kind of giving me a headache."

"I'll lead then, you look for anything headache-worthy," Brienne said firmly, moving ahead with her head high and shoulders back. Few people dotted the streets, in sight at least, but they were quick to avert their eyes.

Vivian trailed a few steps behind, the click of boots on damp ground echoing across the street. Long stretches of silence, from both the women and their surroundings, dragged out. The hum of city life at the heart of the peninsula brought little comfort when its edges were so thoroughly hollowed by death and decay.

Forgotten buildings and their equally lost occupants leered at her from the sealine. She could feel the tickles of whispered voices just behind her neck, setting her on edge. But no matter which way she turned her head or flicked her gaze, nothing was ever there.

Soft words and malicious intent – always right at the edge of her vision, just beyond her touch.

"Do you hear that?" she asked in a low voice, anxiety creeping through her like a cold wind, "I think we're being watched."

Brienne stopped abruptly, sticking a hand up to tell Vivian to stop too. "I smell blood," she said loudly, a sharp inhale preceding her words. The hair on her arms stood on end, nails a bit too sharp and canines a little too long.

The wolf's quick hand snatched Vivian's, dragging her towards a chained warehouse. Heavy, rusted, steel condemned the place as much as the signs did.

"Bri, wait, I'm serious. Can you hear someone behind us?" Vivian asked, wrist beginning to ache from the tight grip. Her eyes lingered behind them, searching the shadows for the source of her anxieties. The dark stared back but kept its secrets.

"A lot of blood," Brienne whispered and came to a stop in front of one of the buildings' side entrances. The mechanism that operated the heavy metal door must have been broken, leaving it in an open position. It was boarded up with plywood and planks, but enough had broken away to allow careful entry.

A scowl crossed Vivian's face, only to fall off into a shape of abject horror as she turned to face the entrance Brienne had been so insistent about.

"Oh god."