The head office of Liberate Recover Bank was in the busy part of New York, a good distance away from the Dune home. Therefore, Lacey Dune, the daughter of the founder of Liberated Recover Bank was at the head office alone and at the late hours of the night. Lacey had fed before she came, just in case she was trapped in the loud, busy building the next day. Only right now it was quiet inside, only a few workers left behind to work during the night to keep things running smoothly.

Lacey’s eyes were dark, as she walked down the dimly lit hallway, her hands pushed into her jacket pockets as her heels echoed down the tiled hallway. Pursing her lips slightly, a nice red colour, her hair was pushed all the way back into a straight ponytail, showing her hazel eyes to the world. Feeling a buzz in her pocket she let her eyes move to the left for a moment before moving back forward to look at the nothingness in front of her. Her hand grasped the Iphone in her pocket before pulling it out and looking down. It was a message from her father, just useless stuff, that he wanted to know about when she got back.

A snarl of discus for her father twisted onto her face, before she quickly composed her emotionless cold expression. Her father was a man that controlled every part of her life, like she was his tool to use. She hated the man and would someday be the one to kill him. However, there were too many things getting in her way of killing him, and with the odd number of centuries that had passed since she learned the truth of his ugly self. Something she was now herself, and because of this immoral state, she was forever trapped as his second in command. Life as she knew it was still moving, but she was forever frozen. How much could she learn and how long could they pull of playing the owners of this bank before someone found out. Closing her eyes just slightly she turned the corner, and pushed her phone back into her pocket.

She could hear the people around her, not just inside put outside. All alive, all living, all normal. She hated people, she hated everyone. Yet she had to deal with them every day of her never ending life. “Miss Dune!” Called a woman’s voice.
‘Great’ Lacey thought before opening her eyes again and looking over her shoulder as an older woman ran towards her, the fat on her moving to a point where Lacey want to vomit. Yet Lacey said nothing and only kept her cold eyes on the woman.

“I’m so sorry you had to come in by yourself. No one informed me that you were coming in tonight.” Useless chatter, that is what it was. Why would Lacey need someone to walk her everywhere when this was a place she owned? It would be like having someone show her where the bathroom was in her own home. Stupid. So with that Lacey said nothing and started walking again. “Miss, Dune!” the woman said again before charging after Lacey again, yet the only thing Lacey could do was tune her out and keep walking.

It wasn’t long until she was in her office alone, time passed and she was able to take a small break. Pushing herself away from the computer and off the chair she turned away from the desk and looked out the large window behind her. The lights, in the city were like stars. The cars on the streets, like the farmers under the sun and the people. . . so many people, the planets in the field. What it was to live as a child. Something she longed for, but could never have again. Trapped in a city so busy, with so much noise. Even at two in the morning. It was as if there was no time for peace in New York.

"Detective Thompson, Sir! We can't do this! We need to give announcement fi...DETECTIVE!?"

The young detective Summerfield struggled to keep up with the old man's stride. In his forties, Michael Thompson was still as strong as boys in their twenties. Heck, he seemed more vigorous than his younger peers in the force. The only complain toward him might be the attire mimicking those hard-boiled private eyes shown in 90's black-and-white TV shows. His rough personality as well. "It was for intimidation. Works better that way," that was his only answer regarding his style. Sure, it intimidated criminals. But the effect was the same for civilians.

Said detective was now shoving through Liberate Recover Bank's hallway despite protests from the workers around him. Summerfield was left further and further behind as he kept on bowing down with shame, apologizing on his superior's rude antics. Out of a whim he had decided to pay a visit to the Bank in the midst of their investigation. Before Summerfield could say anything, there they were, half-running through the Bank office's hallway as if they were the owner.

Detective Thompson stopped in front of the head office's door, knocking it with heavy thumps three times. He didn't wait for answer. A woman, one of the employees, tried to stop him but failed. He was already inside the office. Uninvited. Unwelcomed. With a flick of his hand he showed the badge of the Force.

"Michael Thompson, NYPD. Miss Lacey Dune, I presume?"

The smoke from his cigar started to puff up, filling the room with choking smell.

The moment the unwelcome guest had made their way into her building Lacey had been notified. She knew everything that was going on in her building. This was the main branch of her company, that made her father and herself the third riches people in the world. So after hanging up her phone, she sat in her dress, her legs crossed under her black pencil skirt. She leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping along the dark wooden desk, her eyes watching the door in a cold stare. What fucking cop thought he could march into her building without her permission. Someone was going to pay for this. If it wasn’t some fucking cocky ass cop, their head would be blown off the moment they opened her door.

It was then that she could hear the raising voices of the people coming down the hallway. From what she could tell there was at least two men, one older than the other as a number of her employee’s chased after him before the door opened. Her eyes narrowed more when she saw the thing in his mouth. She stood up quickly her hands coming down hard on the desk, she almost forgot to let up some of her force and would have smashed the thing to pieces. “Put that fifty thing out!” She screamed her voice ice closed and harsh, almost growling at him.

She could hear her secretary calling out from behind the man rolling out excuses of her failure to stop it. “Get the fuck out of my building. If you have something to discuss with my father or myself then you may do so tomorrow through our lawyers. “ She said her tone not changing or faltering before she continued totally unfazed by this surprise visit. “If you do not leave willingly I’ll have you escorted out, you are trespassing unless you have a warrant, which I presume you don’t since it fucking two in the morning.” She wanted this trash out of her building now.

Thompson shrugged off the immediate hostility shown by the young miss. He had seen worse, especially with his way of doing things. You can’t expect smile and welcoming arms all the time if you want to solve a crime. The only response he had done was snuffing out his cigarette using the tip of his zippo lighter. Some of its ashes fell down to the expensive carpet lining the floor.

“Pardon me, Miss Billionaire. I can’t calm myself without a smoke or two, especially when dealing with such tough case. True, I don’t have a warrant. Probably never will anyway. This is just a quick visit as a sign of my goodwill,”

Without waiting for approval, he put an envelope on her desk. It was mostly documents. Some were adorned with close-up photographs.

“It’s just a list of missing person in this area. Some were not just missing, but found dead. The manner of death, which is interesting, is that they were wrinkled so much as if their very life was sucked from their body. Scary, eh? I’m here to ask your assistance about these people. Surely someone as influential as you would be able to recognize one or two of these people. Now, I’m not suspecting you of anything, not at all, although your arrival to this city was coincidentally the same as when these cases started to pop up, but…”

Thompson’s words were cut off by Summerfield’s sudden entrance. His face was beet red from embarrassment. The sight of Lacey and Thompson confronting each other nearly made him faint. Not only his superior barged illegally into others’ place, it was the third richest person in the world’s to boot. He wanted to cry now; his career was finished at that instant.

“Excuse me, detective!” he pulled Thompson away as hard as he could. Strangely the senior detective didn’t struggle at all. “I’m sorry, Miss Dune! This is a mistake, a horrible mistake! I…”

“Enough, greenhorn,” Thompson stopped his frantic rambling with a chop to his head. “I’m done here. Let’s go.”

“Oh thank God! Err, I mean…okay, detective.”

The young detective rushed out with relief washing his entire body. It was too nerve-wracking for him. Yet Thompson remained behind, glancing toward Lacey before turning away completely.

“Oh yeah, I’m here to warn you. There is a killer on the loose. Someone had spotted a person, apparently a guy, killing a bunch of people with what they’ve identified as sword or some sharp weapon. Tell this to your employees. Don’t wander alone at night. We’re chasing this maniac right now. Stay safe. That is all.”