Life in Cold Blood

Life in Cold Blood is a story set on the planet Szenaria, centering around mysterious underground killings and one particularly eccentric Drakon adventurer.

Zinc Processing Facility
“Mlakking place is smelly in here. You know this dump always creeped me out.”

Plumes of dirty steam rose into the air, hissing as they escaped from the tarnished silver piping in the walls. The tunnels and corridors spread in every direction, adorned only with metal rails and grating. It was silent aside from the constant, echoing breath of steam. The bowels of the factories were always sinister-looking places, and this one was no exception. Nox was particularly annoyed that he had to come back here. When he had first left, he was glad to get away from the soot and the steam.

“I know that perfectly well, Nox,” Delance replied, walking alongside him with a flashlight. “Believe me, I wouldn’t have come here either if I didn’t have to.”

The security scopes in the factory maintenance tunnels had detected some sort of “disturbance”. That was the entirety of the situation – at least, the situation they were briefed about. The staff had apparently panicked that there had been a disturbance, and so the Watch had been called in. As usual, Delance and Nox had been the ones deployed. It never failed. As soon as they were ready to check out for the day, something came up.

Nox looked around. “Back when I was a factory miner we never got told about this,” he sighed. “That makes me all the more uneasy if they had been reporting this stuff behind our backs.”

“You’ve been in the maintenance tunnels before?” Delance shone his flashlight at his accomplice.

“Once or twice. The bots usually do all the work, but I got called into a certain station and the only way to it was through the tunnels. Once the day was over it was an experience I never wanted to repeat for the rest of my life.” Nox shrugged. “Well, you can see how that turned out now.”

They kept walking, shining their flashlights at the walls. Nox vaguely remembered that the cooled storage areas were located somewhere around here – it was getting slightly colder as they walked, and eventually their hot breath formed a cloud into the air as they exhaled.

Delance snorted. “We’re not even getting paid for the extra hours here. Scope probably picked up a couple of gallipests.” A sudden rush of steam sounded from behind them, making them both jump. Delance sighed, and wiped his brow. “Let’s check the next batch of tunnels and get the hell out of here.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more.”

The two continued to search for a short while – although it was more like killing time – before there was a distinct skittering, scuffling sound from below. Nox stopped, turning his head. “You hear that?” he whispered.

“Of course I hear ‘it’. The steampipes are cranking away all the time down here.”

“No. Listen.”

And then Delance heard it too: the scuffling and scratching, coming from under the metal grating they stood upon. He looked down at the floor, turned his ears toward the sound, listened. “Probably just a gallipest looking for its next meal,” he finally said, although there was a tone of uneasiness in his voice. “That, or probably a bot at work.”

There was a period of silence. Neither Nox nor Delance spoke, and the sound was gone. Only the constant hiss of steam filled the air.

But then, there was a faint puffing sound, like someone breathing slowly in and out. And it was oddly subdued – very odd indeed.

Nox turned to look at Delance, and simply shook his head.

I don’t think so, he mouthed.

And then there was a voice. It was distant and muffled by intricately interwoven machinery, but it could be made out to be a voice nonetheless. It was soft at first, but then became progressively louder and repetitive, like somebody stuttering. Or perhaps laughing.

The two Drakons looked at each other. “Mlakking freak!” Nox hissed. “The guy scared me out of my mlakking skin.” He straightened up. “If we were called out late by some sorry joker hiding in the maintenance ducts...”

“Do you want me to fish him out?” Delance asked.

“Nah. I’d like to deal with this if you don’t mind.” Nox cracked his knuckes, and started trying to open the nearby hatch inside the floor grating. “Alright son, you’re very funny. Now get your sorry little face up here and...”

“Nox.” Delance quickly put his hand on Nox’s shoulder.

“What,” Nox said, turning around, and then he froze mid-turn, because the voice was back. From what they could tell, it was starting to shout.

And then, in a curious moment when the entire area was silent, a harsh, screeching snarl erupted from below the grating, followed by a panicked scream.

Delance pulled out his pistol and shot the lock of the hatch, throwing the door open before the smoke had time to clear. He and Nox jumped down into one of the ducts that trailed beneath the walkways. They ran for a short distance until, after they briefly glimpsed a fluttering in the shadows, they turned a corner and found a dead end.

Once they reached it, it was only a second or two before Nox first reacted, but it seemed like he had ample time for it all to sink in. The corridor was typical-looking; packed with wires, steampipes, and mechanical devices. On the left, there was an open electrical box with a silver key still inserted into the door latch. Some wires inside the box had been pulled loose, implying that someone had been doing electrical work inside. The floor, however, seemed oddly wet. It steamed too, but not from the pipes that were present throughout the tunnels. There was also a Drakon, dressed in overalls and fitted with a keychain: a maintenance worker – or at least it was once a maintenance worker. The body lay on the floor, its mouth locked into an eternal shout, its torso chewed open, scarlet blood dripping down onto the floor and steaming up in the cool air. The walls were also drenched with the stuff.

“Mlakk,” Nox breathed softly.

Delance turned, pulling out his pistol, searching for the killer. But the corridor in the next direction led to a dead end too. There was nowhere to have gone.

Reluctantly, he returned to Nox, who was still just standing there, staring at the mangled carcass laying on the floor. “Call Commands,” Nox said, weakly. “Tell ‘em that this mlakking ‘disturbance’ just got real.”

Delance nodded, and flipped open his card comms. “Gamma Delance here,” he said into the device. “Get the Ministry on the line. You’re not going to like this.”