All Roads Lead to Ruin

Code:

Name:
Age:
Type: (Mortal, Psychic, Vampire, etc.)
Concept: (ex. Arrogant Cop, Burnt-Out Starlet, Back Alley Surgeon, Cheerleader Queenbee, Outcast Antisocial Youth, etc)
Virtue: (ex. Patient, Generous, Righteous, Hopeful, Humble, Courageous, etc.)
Vice: (ex. Arrogant, Greedy, Cowardly, Hateful, Deceitful, Cruel, Untrustworthy, etc.)  
Bio:

Name: Seth Dirske
Age: 25
Type: Mortal
Concept: Rude Sketchy Drifter
Virtue: Just
Vice: Pessimistic
Bio: Seth has been on the road for the past decade or so, having his hometown in his rearview and never returning since. He seems to drift randomly through the continental US, stopping in and staying at various smaller towns. He investigates occurrences that hint at being supernatural, and often does something to interfere with them if he finds the events to be truly paranormal. He seems somewhat paranoid, and is somewhat reluctant to give up details of his origins or what drives him- which helps to fuel the vibe that he knows more than he should about something, and is reluctant to give details on that something as well.

Chapter One: Pit Stop

The piercing brilliance of a pair of high beams cut through the thick darkness of the woods. The car rolled forwards slowly, as if it were in drive but no one pressed the pedal. Leaves and twigs snapped and crunched under the heavy tires, the car finally rolling to a stop as the stiff, pale body of a woman was lit by the headlights. Judging from the splattering of blood around the site, she was dead.

The passenger door of the car opened, a man stepping out and walking into the light of the car. He knelt by the dead body, examining it. The drivers door opened and a man stepped out, but he didn't come any further than the front corner of his car. "There she is man, I told you... this is the fourth one this month..." Gibbered the man, obviously shaken by the sight.

"You're right, Ben. Something's definitely up. This," He said, pushing the shoulder of the dead girl so that she slumped over onto her stomach, exposing the flayed muscle and bone showing between her shoulder blades, a triangular patch of skin having been removed. "isn't normal." He finished, shooting a disparaging glare over at the man as he curled in on himself, retching up vomit next to his car. The man kneeling next to the dead body stood, walking to a tree nearby. He raised his hand, plucking three tooth or claw-like spikes from the tree before turning towards the car, a leathery triangle of skin falling from the bark and slopping to the floor like a wet rag. "C'mon. We don't have all night."

Reiken had been a peaceful town, apparently, up until about a month ago. That's when the disappearances started. All young girls, all in the same school, all cut up in the same way. The local police force had a few leads but weren't getting very far; Seth, however, had. He had noticed the strange pattern of freckles on each of the victim's missing portion of skin, and had been scouring the town for others with it. Just a few days ago he had caught sight of a girl who had been wearing a dress with a low back, and his luck payed off- a perfect semicircle of freckles. And so, here he sat, sketchily leaned back in the seat of his truck while he watched the house he had followed the girl to. He had a camera in his hands, and was around to make sure if anything suspicious reared its head, he'd see it. He hadn't been seen in his car yet, and he doubted anyone would be paying enough attention to notice him, but he had parked in front of an empty house and made sure to lean out of sight whenever someone passed by.

Name: Layla Simon
Age: 16
Type: Human
Concept: Misunderstood youth
Virtue: Kindness
Vice: Passivity
Bio: Entirely normal to the opinions of most. No real close friends, or siblings. Layla spends most of her time on her own, reading, or thinking. She's kind-hearted, with a soft place for animals, and has anxiety attacks when she's shouted at. Used to certain levels of abuse at home, and still uncomfortable around strangers, she's always kept her problems quiet and unnoticed. Ah, suburbia.

Layla toyed with her newly-blue hair in the mirror. No one had really commented, except a few kids who she held idle conversation with. Everyone was so on edge lately, what with the killings at all. Her parents argued in the kitchen downstairs. Neither of them had bothered to make dinner once again, and well, she was hungry. Knowing this routine of fighting and how it never really led to anything, Layla clicked open the locks on her bedroom window, grabbing her army green bomber jacket and hugging it tightly to her thin frame, counting out the few bucks she still had saved from last year's summer job and shoving it into her pockets. Taco Bell wasn't too far.

She climbed out the window, down the small slope of the second floor and a trellis of vines that could support her incredibly thin frame. She hugged her small backpack purse onto her back, jerking her bike free from the bushes, and swinging a leg over the side to ride off towards her dinner.

Seth was just about to dive into the internet on his phone when he caught motion out of the corner of his eye. The same girl he had been trying to keep tabs on began to bike down the sidewalk. He watched the jacket-clad girl coast down the street a ways before he tossed his phone into the cushion of various grease stained McDonald's bags that sat on his passenger seat. He kicked up the engine, pulling slowly out of the space once she was a ways ahead. He continued, slowly, trying not to draw attention to himself while still keeping her in sight.

She biked with her headphones in all the way up the street, through the little bit of town this place had, leaning her bike against the wall while she went in for a couple burritos, stuffing them into her bag, (waving to him in his car before she left) and riding out toward the park, and the cliffs overlooking the lake.

Seth followed behind her at a rather set distance, making sure not to tip her off. When she made it to the cliffs, he drove past her, driving up to an overlook where the town's teens often parked to get throat deep in one another. His truck fit in for the most part, besides the camper, and he had a good view of the girl. He cracked his window, lips tugging a Newport menthol from its pack while his free hand flicked a lighter and lit it, a small cloud of smoke billowing out of the window as he dropped the cigarettes and reached for his Polaroid.

Layla pulled her bag onto her lap and opened one of her burritos, sitting on the cliffs and watching the water ripple with the wind currents. There was a sense of peace here. But more so, the sense that something was about to go horribly wrong.

Seth squinted as he looked down the hill a ways, eyeing a lone figure that stood on the sidewalk. He was dressed in a dark red suit, that looked somewhat messy from where Seth was sitting, but it was hard to tell. The man was staring straight at the girl, though. He raised his camera and snapped a photo, waiting for it to dispense before wafting it through the air, waiting for its image to form. When it had, he looked at the man in the picture, brow furrowing. There was a big of a light- an orb, or glare, or something over him. It could be something... but it was likely nothing. It was an old camera, anyway.

He looked back up, eyeing the girl and the man. Or rather, lack thereof. The hairs on the back of his neck raised, and he opened the door of his truck. He walked briskly down the hill towards the blue-haired girl, turning as to keep out of her sight and approach her as if he came from the park. He looked around, making sure he didn't see the strange man, before stopping about ten feet behind her, pausing as he thought of a somewhat believable thing to say when he approached her. It really sucked being kind of a creepy guy.

Layla started packing her food up, or rather, the garbage left over, swinging tv he backpack over her shoulders and getting up to head home. She jumped, all the wind leaving her lips. "Jesus! You scared me..." She hugged her jacket close and shoved her hands in her pockets, "Can we drop the sneaky-in-the-woods?"

Seth grimaced a bit as she began to pack up her stuff, thinking quick as he attempted to come up with an explanation. When she turned and jumped with a start, he smiled slightly- it was pretty easy to tell it was fake. "Hey, sorry about that. I was in the park with my dog, but, he got loose and I've been trying to find him..." He said, looking around in a bit of a circle, scanning the cliff for sight of the strange man, before looking back to Layla. "You haven't seen him, have you?"

She shook her head, "Only things I've seen are you and some squirrels..." she commented, "It's kinda late to be dog walking though." Layla looked at her phone, "2am?"

"Oh. Okay." He replied, almost as if it were somewhat of a relief. When she mentioned the time, though, he grimaced slightly, thinking over the holes in his rapidly concocted alibi. Fuck me. Of course its 2 AM. "Yeah, well, its late to be biking around to the cliffs, too." He countered. "And besides. What better time to sniff out a killer than the dead of night?" He half-joked, chuckling somewhat at his own statement. "But, uh... speaking of that you should probably get home. It's not the safest to be out here, as of late. I gotta find my dog, though- ah, thanks, anyway. Be careful." He said, waving slightly before turning around, walking in the vague direction of his vehicles. His eyes caught a slight glimmer from a tree, and he grit his teeth, looking around for that strange man.

"Uh... killer...?" she spoke slowly, quite thoroughly weirded out by the strange man, "If you say so... goodnight..?" She shook her head, going over to her bike by the tree and riding it slowly toward the road.

Seth waved his hand in the air, as if to say goodnight back, before walking off.

Layla would make it safely home that night. The rest of the week, she would notice the strange man she had seen various places around town. When she went by the library after school, he seemed to have already been there, sitting at a large table with a few dusty boxes of public records. She would see him in a few of the towns eateries, and occasionally walking on the side of the road- never with a dog of any sort. He even engaged her in a few more conversations, which were slightly less strange than his first. He often asked about the towns history, or if she had seen "Anything strange" besides him. Later that week, however, Layla would awake in her house to the sound of something porcelain crashing to the floor downstairs. It normally wasn't entirely too strange- mom and dad would get into it, something gets thrown or someone gets shoved. Except, there was no argument, no yelling before it- just the muffled sounds of the TV.

Layla rolled over in bed, trying not to think anything of it, but something gnawed at the back of her head and she slowly tossed off the covers and made her way downstairs.

Downstairs was warm, compared to Layla's room. Her parents had the fireplace lit, the smokey scent of burning wood wafting through the room. They often liked to keep fires as the fall transitioned to winter, but it was almost four thirty AM. They would never have let it stay burning. Nor would they be awake- they always crashed early. But, there on the couch, back faced towards the stairs, sat her mother and father, blankly staring at the flashing lights of an infomercial. It was... strange. They hadn't been very fond of one another for a while now, and yet here they sat. Her mother's form was slouched over slightly, her head slumped against her father's shoulders.

Layla slowly made her way around the couch, "Mom..? Dad..? You awake...?"

Her mother and father sat perfectly still. As she rounded the couch, she could see why- blood seeped onto the floor in front of the couch, forming a pool there as it flowed from the open throats of her parents. Their torsos were covered with blood, necks opened to let it pour out- it didn't look like they were cut, or torn open, but... chewed.

Layla didn't know how to scream. She clasped her hands to her mouth as her stomach turned. God, she wanted to puke. The smell hit her at once, the raw, rusty smell of blood, and the sickening dripping sound all combining in a pit. "Oh god..." she muttered, "Oh god, oh god, oh god...." Her hands trembled and she bolted for the old house phone on the wall behind her to dial 911.

When she turned around to bolt, something hit her from the side, arms caging her as she was pulled sideways into the inky blackness of a bathroom, a rough hand going over her mouth to quiet any screams. She was held tightly in the dark, a man's arm around her torso, holding her arms to the side as his other hand covered her mouth, holding her to him. "Shut up, shut up, shut up... quiet..." Spoke a somewhat familiar voice.

The sudden movement and grasp against her pushed out the stuck scream, and she fought against the arms around her for a second until she registered the voice. Her rapid breathing slowed slightly, but the panic to her every movement and action stuck. She practically reeked of it.

The man held her tightly, making sure to keep any sounds muffled as she struggled against him. "Quiet." He grunted. After a moment, heavy footsteps began to eerily echo through the stairwell. Slowly, a hunched figure in a tattered red suit hobbled into view. The hair on its head was falling out in random patches, and it's legs were inverted, knees snapped and angled backwards. Its hands were bloody and clawed, held close to its belly as it saddled awkwardly, panting and wheezing in a manner that had to have been caused by its bent, hunched posture. The creature took wobbly, awkward steps forward, turning its head about as of looking for The Source of the noises. As it looked around the room, the two caught sight of its face- it was a twisted visage, a man's face split down the middle by a vertical, toothy maw, eyes milky and gazing in different directions, obviously shrivled and dead.

Layla froze, ice in her veins as she seemed to turn stone in the stranger's arms.

Seth slowly released her, making sure she wasn't going to scream, or bolt. He inched out of the shadows, pulling a shiny knife from his belt. He tip toed behind the creature, moving slowly towards her fireplace.

Layla sat back on the tile, unable to even breathe, just watching, suspended just over her edge.