A dull yellow light ebbed into the apartment from the streets beyond, accompanied by the distant howling of the bloodthirsty Hunters.
“Fuck this city…” Andrew Brown said with a deep scowl.
“Andy's having depressing thoughts again!” Steven called out from his spot on the sofa.
“That’s what the fairy dust is for,” Lisa replied with a smirk, toying with her nose piercing “grind yourself another crystal.”
Andrew wadded slowly back through the cluttered mess of the apartment, turning away from the flickering city lights. A grinder and a jagged slab of rusty yellow crystal lay amongst the heap of junk which was sprawled out across the coffee table, and the tracksuit clad figure was quick to set about crushing himself a line of powder. The grinder made short work of the crystal, leaving a clump of brittle dust in its wake.
“Steve, chuck me your card.” he called over to his friend.
“Fuck off, dead beat.” he wheezed, inspecting the veins on his hand with bloodshot eyes.
“He needs it to make a line, ass-hat.” Lisa laughed.
“Oh...yeah.”
Steven tossed over a slick blue credit card, which Andrew used to scrape the fairy dust into a thread-like line of gold sprinkles. Leaning in close, he snorted the dust straight off of the glass table, feeling it shoot up into his left nostril with a gruff whizz.
The Euphoria hit him almost instantly, sweeping through every cell of his body in a swift woosh of glowing softness. His body became numb and he collapsed back onto the sofa, the dark thoughts drowned out along with the howling of wolves, replaced by a gentle humming of soft gold lights.
The slender shadows which slunk about the edges of the room began to creep forwards, dancing about and twirling into mystical shapes and patterns.
“I’m supposed to be at the docks tomorrow.” Andy said distantly, staring off into the darkness.
“You’re fucked, mate.” Lisa said with a throaty snort.
She let out a soft little giggle, and soon a wave of laughter was rippling between them all, bouncing about in warm splashes.
“Yo Andy!” Steve said wobbly “When you gonna get that ounce off Keith?”
“Oh shit, yeah..” Andy spluttered, heaving himself off of the sofa in a few shaky steps.
“Keith’s a fucking creep,” Lisa declared “one of his groupies was like fourteen.”
“Pedo or not, he’s got my ounce.” Andy shrugged, snatching up his keys before making his way out of the apartment and into the corridor, locking the door behind him.
A muffled ‘We looooooove you, Andy!’ flowed out after him.
After an eternity of swaying madly through grimy plaster hallways, Andy emerged into the howling breeze and foggy darkness of the moonlit evening. He stumbled down the sidewalk, shoddy apartment blocks running along besides him, as he fished his phone out of his trouser pocket.
“Hey, Keith…” he muttered, once he’d gotten through to his dealer.
“Sup?” Keith’s voice crackled through the phone.
“Fucking Hunters, amarite?”
“Furry fucking douchebags.”
“You still game for tonight?”
“Yeah, man” came the distorted reply “meet me in the usual place.”
“Sweet.”
There was a light mist hanging in the air when Andy came stumbling down under the bridge, his awkward steps sending a few loose pebbles tumbling into the murky canal.
“You already fucked?” Keith greeted him with a soft laugh, leaning back against the heavy stone supports of the great grimey bridge which loomed above them both.
“Maybe a little stoned...not quit fucked.”
“Whatever, dude. You’re off you face,” the dealer grinned, his wicked smile cutting like a knife into the foggy darkness “So, you got the money?”
Andy stuffed one hand into his jean pocket, ripping out a fat wad of cash.
“B-e-a-utiful.” Keith beamed greedily.
“So, there somethin’ going on with you and Lisa?” Andy asked offhandedly, as his dealer swaggered over to take the cash.
“Don’t worry about it, man.” Keith said reassuringly “everything’s fine.”
The dealer pulled something slender and sharp out of his jacket in a quick blur of speed, and before Andy had time to react there was a needle tearing into his muscular neck. He let out a frantic gasp, but then Keith pushed down on the syringe with a surprisingly firm grip, and the world seemed to speed by in a flash of vivid colours, as darkness crept in at the corner of his vision.
“Sorry, bro,” Keith said with the faintest hint of sadness ebbing at his hard voice “I gotta pay the bills.”
Andy collapsed backwards, his limbs going numb as he thudded to the floor. He landed in a splash of dirt and muddy pebbles, banging his head on the solid ground.
“If I wasn’t high I’d beat the shit out of you...” he wheezed, before the world went black around him.
*
Andrew woke up to the sight of a great big whale of a woman. She had the elfin ears and etheral eyes of a Faerie, but the rest of her was all squishy and jiggly. Her choice of attire was a sparkling black rhinestone dress, which seemed to be struggling to contain her wrecking ball of a stomach, and red hair which crackled like smouldering fire washed over her pale shoulders in regal waves of stylish splendour.
“Rise and shine, kid.” she cooed with a dark grin, flashing her worryingly sharp teeth.
His surroundings faded into existence next. Andrew sat in a darkened room, forcefully bound to an old chair by a bundle of too-tight rope which chafed and burned against his skin.
“My mind’s so fucking full of questions right now that I’m amazed I’ve managed to form a sentence,” he spluttered “I think you might have me mistaken for someone considerably more interesting.”
Nyxvira Bloodbloom gave a little smirk “I think I’ve got exactly who I’m looking for...Donato Martovanni.”
Donato’s heart sank into his chest “How’d you know?” He asked meekly.
“Someone squealed,” she shrugged “someone always squeals.”
A cold silence fell over the room, as the young Martovanni dreaded to think what the dark and twisted things the future held for him.
“I have to ask,” Nyxvira grinned smugly “why come back to Santa Somabra?”
“I was in Florence when I heard about Pappa…” Donato gazed into the fuzzy abyss of the carpeted floor beneath him “He was a tough man to love...it took me a while before I was ready to come and say goodbye.”
“You should’ve stayed in Florence.”
“No shit.”
He eventually raised his head and met her fluid gold eyes.
“So, what happens next?”
“You give me something, and in return I don’t spill the beans and laugh as this city tears you apart.” Donato had seen some hard men in his time, seven foot giants of pure iron and rage, but somehow the cold, calculating venom which dripped from the Faerie Queenpin’s words sent more of a chill down the young man’s spine than any of those steroid-guzzling thugs ever could have.
“What’s it you want, exactly?” he asked with shaky hesitation.
“Us Faeries know things,” she began “we have our networks of whisperers, and they help uncover naughty little secrets which might have otherwise gone unnoticed by certain two-headed Ogres…”
She paused for a second, letting her words hang on the air.
“Tell me everything you know about the Mithril Mine, and I might just let you walk out of here alive.”
