Scarlet Cline is in the wrong place at the wrong time, leading up to a bloody red apple killing her.
*****
After being brought back to life by a mad German scientist. Scarlet's expired life becomes a complet...
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"After further evidence, the woman found deceased in the sewer of downtown Seattle was one of the missing women," the newsman announced. His voice was hard to hear over Dieter's whistling. "If anyone has seen or heard anything, please call the nu-" he said, but Dieter clicked off the television.
I glanced from the black screen to his dull expression. "Why?" I asked.
"I have veen informed that a hostess at a restaurant near Vike's Market knows vhere Roy is," he said, throwing a jacket at me.
As we drove down a dark alley not meant for cars, Dieter parked his piece of shit and leaned over me, opening the door.
"Vsk for Diaz. Ve should be able to point us in the vight direction." Dieter motioned for me to get out fast.
"Why can't you go in and ask?" I replied, not leaving.
He waved his arms in the air, frustrated with me. "Because he vill run if he sees me."
I rolled my eyes, jumping out into the musky air. The mist floated around the street lamp while the light lit up the narrow path below. I pulled my hood over my head, entering a back alley restaurant.
An older man sitting in the waiting area coughed while I could smell the cigarette smoke from his jacket. His eyes scanned me as I waited for the staff to greet me with a fake smile.
A tiny girl with a pad of paper quickly walked up. "One?" she asked, thinking I needed a table.
"No," I responded. "I'm here, looking for Diaz."
Her face sunk, annoyed with me. "We told Diaz that no more of his girlfriends allowed here anymore."
"I'm not his girlfriend." I removed my hood, brushing my hair back with my fingers.
She eyed me. "I don't care what you call yourself. Diaz's girls from the Red Room, banned here."
I scrunched my face together. "What the fuck?" I blurted out. "I'm not one of his hookers."
The older man laughed hard, to the point of choking up a cough. I glanced at him as he held his chest, then looked back at the troll hostess.
"I'll be right back," she said with a huff.
She rushed away into the dark restaurant while I leaned against the counter, tapping my finger on the glass top. As I thought she wasn't getting Diaz for me, a short man walked up with a poker face.
"You are looking for Diaz?" he asked.
"Are you him?" I questioned back, like a politician.
"Depends who ya with."
"Nobody, I'm looking for someone, and you know his whereabouts." I narrowed my eyes at him, stepping closer. "Royce Peterson."
Diaz licked his lips, scolding me. "And what do I get, giving his name to a pig?"
