“Yeah, um, I came to ask about someone who might have gotten caught up in a monster attack?”

The receptionist doesn't bother to look up from her screen, fingers tapping on the keyboard. “Name?”

“Mine, or my friend?”

“Both, please.” She says, that voice pleasant but measured. Probably has to deal with this a lot, he thinks.

“Jonah. My friend is Andrew Hughes, lives out near Watts.” He says.

A slight hum, a few fingers tapping. “We have some activity reports near there. When do you think it happened?”

“About two weeks ago.” Jonah says, a hand coming up to run though his dull red hair. “That's when he stopped showing up to work, and stopped getting online. Phone also goes to voice mail, probably missed a bill.”

A curt nod, a slight hum as she types. And then there is a slight pause. Just for a second, a break in that steady rhythm that Jonah just barely catches, but it's there. “Let's see...we had sightings of a new Kaiju variant that ended up attacking some people out there. And more reports of...ah. Yes, seems that there's a bit of activity in that area.”

“Any news about Andrew?”

A pause. “I still have to request that info through our recovery and health departments, see if we have anyone in our ward with that name. If you like, you could sit down and wait for a minute."

 

But there's something wrong. The hairs standing up on the back of his neck, a feeling like he's being watched. It feels...off.

“Actually, mind if I give you my number?” He says, reaching for the small notepad on the desk and a pen in a cup. “I think I might just ask for a call-back, if that's alright.”

“Understandable.” She says. “These things can be hard to discuss in public. It might take longer, but if a Shield opens up in your area, we can send her your way.”

Send her your way. Why did that feel so ominous?

“Thanks,” Jonah says, his address and number left on that pad as he backs away from the desk.

“Thank you, Mr. Davis.”

He forces himself to walk calmly out the door, the sliding glass welcoming him with a rush of brisk autumn air to the face as he steps back out into Awakening Square. The pressure, the weight evaporating immediately.

He shouldn't have given them his info.

Walking back across that square, passing by the Captain's Statue, Jonah pulled his hood up and let his thoughts spiral. What was he even doing here? What did he even hope to find out coming to a place like this? And now they had his info and knew that he was looking for Andrew. Amazing work, detective. How are you gonna screw this up next?

 

---

And as if to answer his folly, the ground shook behind him in a thunderous crash.

Foot.

 

Massive, car-crushing, block-busting foot. Like the Heavens themselves just tried to step on him with a heel made of black, swirling mud.

 

Jonah nearly falls on his ass as that Kaiju takes form, unfurling from a fetal position, standing to tower among the skyscrapers in a curvy, feminine shape. Thick, black ooze drips from her akimbo arms, from that hip-length hair, falling down with a sickening splatter onto the granite before that Kaiju leans forward, her massive fist cocked back before slamming towards the Shields Headquarters with a right straight, only to crash against an iridescent barrier that turns her arm into a flood of goo.

That's enough sightseeing for today.

 

Jonah turns and takes off, as fast as his legs can carry him. Across that street, jumping on the hood of a parked car to vault over and towards the back alley between two sidewalk stores as a glob of ooze slams down with enough force to break the windows on the car he just vaulted, alarm blaring and soon joined by the sound of screams behind him

Panic. The need to escape, pushing him out of that alley and towards a crush of people, police already directing them marked buildings and the subways to shelter from the attack. A shelter would be the smart move, get inside and wait out the attack. He feels someone scrambling past him, a stray elbow catching him on the temple, lurching forward and landing against a stopped car with his arms outstretched, ears ringing as he collects himself. Keep running.

At least traffic is stopped, more of that black goo raining down, as he feels it splattering against his hood and back. Screams, shouts, moans erupting throughout the crowd as Jonah pushes his way forward, through that crush, towards that next alleyway. If he could just get out of the damage zone, he'd be fine...

He'd just reached that alley when he noticed his jacket crawling on his back.

“What the hell?!” Jonah shouts, hands ripping at the front of the coat, tossing it off his back as he flings it against the wall. That black ooze writhing against the hood and the fabric, slowly soaking through, staining that cloth a dark violet and black. A glossy sheen wraps around the clothing, before it settles, now a latex copy of his favorite old coat.

“Okay, goo is bad news.” He says to himself, heart pounding, looking at the far end of that alley. Escape!

“H, hey! HEY!”

He's halfway free before that voice pulls him back, and he turns to see someone. A barista by the shirt and the slacks, tall and thin, brown hair cut in that dumb broccoli style. His apron taken off and wrapped around his leg, his face flushed. The bulge in his pants showing clear distress.

And that left foot, covered in that black ooze, slowly creeping upward. “I, I can't get it off. You gotta help me, please!”

No no no no no. He could just run, just leave. Let the Shields handle this. But he couldn't move.

A moan. Loud and open and wanton, from that alleyway. Turning the corner, their hand dripping in darkness, came a figure. Her body is sculpted into a feminine dream, wide hips and bare breast showing proudly. Purple swirls dance on her skin, turning into a spiral over her face that Jonah catches himself looking at, then tears his eyes away. “Don't look at it!” He shouts, looking back to that barista. “Just hold on, I'll keep it back, you...try to find some water or something to wash it off.”

“Okay, Okay...water, okay, mmmfff...” The barista arches his back, hands on the wall to steady himself upwards. “Don't look at it, don't look, don't look.”

Jonah forces himself to stare at her stomach. The swirls are lesser there, and he can at least judge her movements from her hips. As long as it isn't her face or tits. Those perfect tits...

A broom leans against the side of the building, one of those wide alley-sweeping types. Jonah snatches up the handle, that wide bristle head pointed at the figure. “Stay back!” He shouts, keeping his view anywhere but her face.

Of course, she doesn't stop. Now or never, then.

With a shout, Jonah leans forward. Hips pivoting, shoulder surging forward, driving that broom into her chest with every ounce of force he could, and

BOOM!

The figure is sent flying backwards, knocked off her feet by the blow.

 

“Wait...huh?”

There is a soft scent of rain in the air. A warm spring breeze.

“I'm here!”

A soft voice descends from behind as a Shield drops from the sky, landing in that alleyway with nary a sound. Her sapphire colored hair in a pair of twintails, each one tied back by a spotted mushroom hair tie. Her silver armor rests on a bright green uniform, that skirt reaching her knees, her arms covered by a pair of soft loam gloves that meet at her biceps. And on her face is a bright, confident smile.

Jonah never felt happier to see a Shield.

Their eyes meet for a second, and the Shield pauses. Blinks. But then nods. “You need to get to a shelter, now.” She says, that authoritative voice ringing in his ears.

Jonah snaps out of his daze, looking back at her. “Hold on, we need to help him first.” He says, looking at the barista. That black ooze crawling up the tied-off apron, his cock straining now, face flushed as he grips the wall. It's clear he can't think of much on his own.

The Shield pauses, looking from the barista and back to Jonah, before turning towards the distressed man. “I got this.” She says. “You block off the alleyway. Keep those drones from getting any closer. They're physically weak but don't touch them directly. And don't look at them!”

“Got it!” He shouts, turning to glance at the end of the alley. The first drone is slowly standing up again, rising up by her ankles, bent in inhuman ways as she is soon upright once more. And the sound of the fall seems to have pulled in two others, the oozing figures shambling towards them.

He has to act fast. There's a delivery cart with some crates, a trash dumpster, some recycling bins. Jonah moves, pulling the delivery cart forward, stacking it with empty bottle boxes, a full trash can, an empty propane tank. More weight, as much weight as he can as they shamble forward.

Then, he pushes.

The front of that cart unwieldy and bulky, brushing against the trashcans, pushing aside random litter as he picks up speed towards those drones. All that weight soon starting forward, his sneakers digging into the asphalt as he grunts and pushes harder. “Come on...Come On!”

Then the SPLAT! As the crate hits that first drone. He feels them tumble forward onto that litter, onto those crates, body sagging over the refuse as it leans and begins pushing back. Then the second, then the third. He feels the cart stop, grinding to a halt, as that weight fights back against him like a tide.

And then he locks the wheel brakes and steps back. Watching them pushing, jiggling, trying to get around.

He runs back, reaching out for the side handles on the heavy duty trash bin. “I'm running out of things to throw, here!”

“It's...it's almost done!” The Shield calls back. Was she out of breath? He couldn't quite see them from this angle, and had more to worry about.

“What do you mean?!” He shouts, looking back at those drones pushing against the cart. The wheels shuddering, skidding back against the asphalt.

A whistle rises on the air. Those slimy women slowly pull back from that cart. Standing upright. Heads turned towards the sky, before they melt away and slither backwards, down a drain.

Jonah looks back to see the Shield, standing up from where she had been kneeling in front of the man, wiping sweat from her brow. “They can't last long on their own.” She says, her voice a bit softer, out of breath. “So they fled.”

The Barista seems to have calmed down, at least, his body slumping back onto the steps, his foot clear of that ooze and his pants once again crease-free, softly breathing. “He'll be alright when he wakes up.” She says, smiling as she turns to Jonah. “You're not hurt, right?”

Jonah blinks, and then looks at himself. “Oh! Um, no...though I lost my coat. Just my pride, then.” He says, smiling a bit at that Shield. “Thanks for saving us, by the way.”

“It's what we do!” She beams, her confidence returned. “I'm Amaria, Healer by Vocation, still waiting on an assigned district.”

“Jonah.”

“Jonah,” She says. “What were you doing here?”

“Just, uh, looking for a friend.” He says, smiling gently at her. He didn't want to stare, but he had to admit that she looked nice in that outfit. The way the armor accentuates her hips, draws his eyes to those slight curves. “Thought I'd find them here, but ended up with...this.”

She smiles and laughs. “Well, hopefully you met a new friend today.” She says gently, offering a hand. “It's nice to meet you, Jonah!”

Jonah looks at that hand for a bit. Then takes it. “Likewise.” Her grip is firm and controlled, but surprisingly tender.

Then there is a voice, from somewhere back outside the alley. A voice calling for Amaria. A voice Jonah recognizes. That woman from the apartment.

“Oh, that's Sylvia, my mentor.” She says, turning to walk away. “Um...hope to see you again, Jonah! Stay out of trouble, alright?”

Jonah nods. “Yeah. Will do.”

And with a leap, she's gone. He's alone again in that alley, with only a sleeping man for company.

He heads back towards that hasty blockade, shoving past the trash, when he notices something there. Where the latex dolls had been before, there is now a Card. Resting on top of those crates, shimmering in black and purple swirls.

The same card Andrew had in his apartment.

“So he got the card from an attack, then...” Jonah says, picking up that odd business card. Same swirling purple design. Same string of numbers and letters on the back. “But why?”

Jonah exits the alley, and people are already coming out of shelter buildings and heading back to work, like nothing happened. Life moving on.

The world moving on.

Thankfully there's taxis out and about on the street by the time he reaches the sidewalk, and Jonah decides to drop the extra money on a cab ride. He needed the time to be alone and breathe, head on the headrest, pulling up the headphones to just let the music take him home.

 

 

The cab slows to a stop, and the cabbie waves a bit. “Sorry, gotta stop here. Road's closed off.”

The construction from earlier. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.” Jonah says, his phone beeping as he pays for the ride.

“Have a good one.”

It's already getting late, and Jonah felt exhausted. His shoulders slumped as he watched that cab drive off down the road, steam coming up from the manhole cover on the street. Not yet dark enough for the streetlights, but the shadows of the buildings looming large overhead.

“It's you.”

A voice from behind, soft and warm, a sweet contralto that makes Jonah jump out of his skin as he spins around and finds himself nearly face-to-face with that woman. Her blonde hair tied back in a braid that falls over her right shoulder, those soft cheeks a red shade from the chill air, mouth pulled into a smile. It'd be a comforting sight if it wasn't for the blindfold she was wearing, black silk with a pink heart and batlike wings sewn onto it.

“You were at the restaurant earlier.” She says, Jonah taking a nervous step back as that woman's grin widens. “But that man tossed my gift away.”

He noticed that she was wearing a long coat now, a white puffy thing that reached down to her knees, the fur collar nestled around her neck. Pink Strap sandals on her feet, showing off those black-painted nails. She didn't seem bothered by the cold.

“It's alright, though. I carry extra.” Her tone, shifting just a bit higher, wavering as her coat stirs. Jonah noticed that the buttons weren't fastened, her arm reaching underneath to grab for something, just enough to open that coat.

She was naked. Her left nipple pierced with a gold ring, a faint glowing outline of some strange marking just above her mound, but otherwise completely undressed underneath that coat as she hands him a slip of paper. Just like the one at the taco place earlier, the foil cover catching the light.

He doesn't know why he takes it from her, but his hand reaches up to take that paper, and her coat closes again. “I'll be waiting, cutie.” She says, that voice cracking slightly, her body shivering under that large white coat before she turns and walks away from him, leaving him holding that pamphlet alone on the street.

“The fuck even is today?” He asks, looking down at that shimmering paper.

It was time to clock out. Get drunk, play some games, and forget about whatever just happened. This shit was way too weird for him at this point. What did Andrew even get wrapped up in? What did he just find himself jumping into?

 

-------

 

Some Chinese takeout, a few sessions on Gunman's Paradise and two hard drinks later, and Jonah pulled up his browser. He told himself he was going to ignore it for tonight, but he had to find out more.

 

The pamphlet, first. Which, at least, seemed more like a pin-up. A picture of a topless woman with purple hair on the front, mouth open, eyes half-lidded, hands on a pole as she kneels down in front of the camera. If he was an artistic type, Jonah would say it was to represent 'desire', everything being shown as open to the subject, an invitation and a temptation.

Hot as fuck would be another way to put it.

 

But there was no info. Just the picture, and that strange foil covering. It was while he was looking at it, his eyes tired and losing focus, that it began to fit into place. He remembered these from his childhood, a fun way to pass time in a school library while waiting for a friend to pick him up. The holographic layer sliding out of focus, then seeming to lift from the page itself as he stared and his eyes adjusted to the trick.

“Sinner's Oasis.” It said above her head. And below it, an address in Watts.

“There's Watts again.” He says, setting the picture aside as he writes down the info on a sticky note. At least he had one lead. And it was near Andrew's place.

Next, that card. Searching up the letter and number combination didn't bring up a website, but it did bring up a sort of site. It needed a special browser to access, according to some threads he found, but the installation was simple enough. Within 20 minutes he was connected to a node, information copied down into the address bar, and his screen went black.

Gold swirls animated on the web page, leading to a picture of an overflowing chalice, dripping with purple and black ooze. And a warning at the top of the page:

BY ACCESSING THIS SITE YOU GIVE CONSENT, FREELY AND KNOWINGLY, TO WHAT COMES NEXT. LEAVE IF YOU HOLD DOUBT.

Not exactly a legal statement. But, how bad could it be?

He clicks that chalice, and the screen flashes in front of his eyes. The light blinding him for a second, unable to look away...

 

...before he wakes up. His cock in his hand, his shirt covered in his seed. Head swimming and heart pounding, unable to think, mouth open as he gasps awake. A notepad in front of him holding an address and a time, and the word 'SINKER' underlined. He didn't recognize the handwriting.

On his screen, the words “We hope to see you soon.” flash in gold and black.

What the hell did he just click on? He closes the browser, catching his breath, before looking down at the mess he made of himself. He needed a shower as he collected his thoughts, and decided on what he should do next.

Does he check out the Demon Spot? It was close to where Andrew lived, after all. But Jonah didn't see any of those pictures inside his apartment, not like the one that woman handed him earlier. It could be a coincidence, and they may not have anything. Either he could find information, or end up walking into a trap.

Or does he check the Kaiju's Invitation? He'd seen the card in the apartment. He'd followed Andrew to the Shields HQ and that Kaiju showed up. And there was another card left behind. It was a clear link, but given they had just made him lose a half hour staring at a screen, stroking himself raw, who knows what it could lead to?