The Black Dahlia

Neon Grey

"The tired sunsets and the tired people. It takes a lifetime to die and no time at all."
-Charles Bukowski-

The loading bay door opened, headlights poured into the space and caught a glint on the edges of their silver masks. Selukos checked his watch; diamonds danced around the hands, they were half an hour late.

Duties kept them longer than expected. politics already had them stretched thin, now add war to the mix and you've got an ugly mess of dogs and snakes chasing tails. Insult to injury, there was no other duo the King would entrust a deal like this to. For Selukos and Pythes, working with bounty hunters was routine.

"Rattlebone's not going to be thrilled." Said Pythes.

"He'll live."

"Well...yeah, he can't die."

"I didn't mean it like that. You know, it's like an expression or whatever—a figure of speech."

"Oh. Well, I think a better expression would've been "he'll get over it", maybe that's just me."

"Get over what?" Said Grimm, stepping in through the curtain of rain and into the loading bay. He was a tall skeleton familiar, independent of his summoner. How he managed that, many are unsure, but the popular opinion is that he strangled him shortly after gaining sentience.

"It's not relevant." Said Selukos. "we apologize for any delay, we hope you understand."

Smoke filtered through his teeth from the hot cigar, he removed it, and dusted flakes of ash off his three piece suit from a more tasteful era. "I've got all the time in the world, my friend."

"Must be nice. Well it's good to see you, and more importantly to see that you brought the package." Selukos extended a greeting hand and no sooner was rejected by a cold stare. "Perhaps it'd be better to cut to the chase, Mr. Rattlebone. Or, Grimm, if our current situation is better suited for names than aliases?"

"Depends if you brought your end of the deal." Said Grimm, flipping the cigar through his fingers like a coin before crushing it in his fist.

Selukos was, despite his humor, very well acquainted with Grimm. He'd worked since he was an initiate playing fetch for many of Grimm's packages—usually debt collections; however, even with their extensive history, he still feared Grimm.

Selukos signaled and Pythes stepped forward, coming between them. He set down the briefcase, popped the latches and spun it around to face Grimm, revealing to him its contents.

"Half-a-million enough to earn a first name basis?"

Grimm's luminous green eyes cast a dull light on the dollar bill as he lifted it to his face, "Never, but it'll do for now." He tucked the bill in his handkerchief pocket and set the box beside the suitcase.

He pushed the latches back into place and stood. Pythes stooped at that same moment and retrieved the box. Grimm eyed him, then the box, from which came another whine. He then looked beyond them to their vehicle, parked a ways back at the other end of the warehouse, faintly, he could make out another figure sat in the passenger seat. While he couldn't see much, he was able to make out the horns, a determining factor which divided each rank in the Dahlia.

Long, deer like horns, and no glinting which meant that the mask was a matte black steel instead of silver. A mask worn only by one rank in The Black Dahlia, their master, The Alpha.