Thirty-two-year-old Jeremy Winters laid down the heavy blue folder on his lap and bit his lower lip, restless fingers tapping on the plastic cover as if it were a keyboard out of tune. His warped facial expression was that of a man caught between surprise and anger, but rapidly leaning towards the latter.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" he said, nodding in utmost disapproval. Coming back to work after a prolonged vacation was always torture but doing so only to receive such a weird assignment was even worse.
"Watch your language, my boy. Does this look like the face of a man who's kidding?" Alfred asked, pointing at himself with his right hand while holding a triple cheeseburger in the other.
No, it didn't. It was the same old expression every employee knew by heart already. Alfred Lancaster never joked around and he hardly smiled either, despite believing he was God's greatest gift to mankind when it came to funny things. The incredibly down-to-earth and annoying Chief Editor of Signs and Wonders Magazine lived only for the job and chances were he would die on it as well, considering how much time he spent sitting behind his overstuffed executive desk, eating greasy food no mortal creature should be allowed anywhere near. The fresh ketchup stains on his teeth made Jeremy think of a starving vampire. His boss definitely wanted to suck the life out of him with this new idea.
"This is preposterous, Al! I didn't sign up for this!" Jeremy continued to protest, his hands all over the place.
Alfred rolled his wrinkled eyes in between vigorous bites and a spurt of red sauce flew across the room. "Don't be such a wuss. You wanted to investigate an urban legend, so I'm giving you one. I really don't see what the issue is."
"The issue is that you want me to write a story about porn!" Jeremy growled.
"I believe the proper terminology is Erotic Mind Control," Alfred corrected him, another thing he loved doing even when he didn't have his favorite red pen on hand. If he didn't do it at least once a day, chances were he was sick.
"Whatever... When did we ever stoop so low?"
"When sales plummeted because everyone and their mother is buying our direct competitor's new publication, that's when. Sex sells and please don't tell me you don't find some of those accounts intriguing at least."
"Intriguing? No, I really don't. They're dumb, deranged fantasies of idiotic minds who clearly don't have anything better to do with their lives. It's sad, Al, and you know it. You've changed. The old you would never go for something as ridiculous as this."
"Ouch, you're awfully judgmental, today! You shouldn't be talking like that about your next paycheck, you know? Well... the truth is I really don't care what you think. We're running this story and you'll be the one to write it. I'm giving you two weeks to learn everything you can about it, and believe me I'm being generous because the powers that be wanted it for yesterday. I expect nothing but 100% commitment and professionalism all the way through, understood?"
"Yeah, sure..." Jeremy grumbled before getting up and exiting the office, heavy footsteps in sync with his foul disposition. Any other day, he would have insisted on his point of view until exhaustion wore him off but he was tired already on account of several sleepless nights and Alfred wasn't going to budge. Retreating to his desk, the journalist paused to regroup his thoughts.
Urban legends come in all sizes and shapes. Monsters hiding in plain sight and fantastic tales about elusive serial killers were among his personal favorites, but this one was different. It had sprung in the corners of a mysterious Internet archive, feeding the libido of everyday loners, hopeless dreamers, and pathetic wankers, with emphasis on the latter. Unlike what he adamantly had told Alfred, Jeremy understood the forbidden allure of a dazzling woman ransacking minds for her personal gain but fantasies are fantasies and should stay in their proper place.
"But this one didn't," he thought. Inside the folder, there were dozens of police reports and eyewitness accounts about this mysterious figure clad in purple who had turned men into mindless zombie addicts, forced to comply with her every whim, even if that meant renouncing family, friends, and all personal possessions. The original stories that started it all were there too, absurd constructs that made him laugh out loud. 
Still, those stories were ground zero and any proper investigation should start there. Not much was known of their author other than a pen name and a most likely outdated e-mail address. On his own, he didn't have the means to know more but, luckily, he knew someone who did. Whether she would be pleased to hear from him again remained to be seen but there was no harm trying. He picked up the phone and called her right away.

* * *

Laura "Jailbreaker" Hawthorne's fingers moved at trailblazing speed across the keyboard as her on-screen neon blue-haired avatar vaulted over cartoonish environments. She had recently installed a new jiggle physics mod on her favorite Battle Royale game and the results were impressive. Nothing screamed "Your ass is mine!" more than having breasts the size of extra large Pilates balls and still being able to trounce the competition with one hand behind her back. The latest round was almost over, her winning streak heralding a new record.
"Seventy-six, boys. Why are you still trying? Just give up already and crawl back to your mother's basements, if you ever left them, that is." She said over the mic, already expecting the familiar "Fuck you, bitch!" in return.
It didn't come. Instead, the remaining three players roaming on the verdant field opted for complete silence, each one going about their business. A coordinated effort would have been the appropriate course of action but she didn't complain. Without a moment's hesitation, she tracked them down one by one, blazing guns turning their dreams of online glory into an amalgam of red pixels.
"You sure love making my life easier," she gloated. "That's seventy-seven. Who's ready for the next onslaught?"
No one. The number of active players on the server dwindled by the second until she was the only one left. "Pussies," she concluded, reaching for her cup of coffee. A caramel macchiato always served her right before any big decision but having her liquid delights interrupted by the phone wasn't part of the plans.
"Jeremy, my hero," she mocked, staring at her nails. "Back from your holidays so soon? What do you need me for this time?"
"Hi, Laura," he smiled upon hearing her infectious voice once more. "Why do you assume right away this isn't a courtesy call?"
"Because you and I both know you're not courteous enough to do something like that," she replied.
"You need to work on your flirting skills, girl," he grinned.
"I'd rather trash fools online but alas they're all gone. I don't suppose you want to play with me, right?"
"The only thing I can shoot right now are words. Alfred gave me a new story to pursue and it's the craziest shit I've ever heard."
"Oh?" She leaned on her chair. "I'm interested already, big boy. Tell me more."
"I need to chase down the source of an internet erotic urban legend."
"Spicy!" She sipped her coffee." Which one?"
"You're probably not familiar with the source material."
"You'd be amazed at all the things I'm familiar with, Jer. Don't make me ask again." She commanded.
Besides being an amazing player, Laura was also a hacker. In her teenage years, she was a menace to every single financial institution in the country. Her idea of a good weekend was to mess with their websites and make the strangest transactions come alive. She never stole a dime but loved to make everyone else think she did. Laura was known for disliking many people but bankers were the worst.
She liked Jeremy, though. He understood the way she saw the world and he was always a good laugh. They had been friends for almost fifteen years despite some broken promises now and then. They were both to blame for that but especially him. Work was the primary excuse but there had been others and Laura never missed an opportunity to remind him of that.
The lovely cyber expert had just turned thirty. She was five foot six in flats because she refused to wear heels, had curly black hair that was often dyed in shades of bubblegum pink, dark brown eyes, and a mellifluous voice even when she was in a bad mood. Her lovely smile was one of her favorite weapons and anyone who dared to wrong her suffered the consequences rather sooner than later.
Jeremy told her every sordid detail of his new assignment. She listened, and then a gentle moan filled his ears with promises of lust.
"I don't think I ever read that one before but that's fucking hot!" she declared.
"It's also impossible. You know that, right?"
"So? Being impossible doesn't make it less hot. Live a little, will you?"
"I'm trying but right now I need to find the author. Do you think you can do that for me if I give you the last e-mail address he was associated with?"
"Oh please! You wouldn't have called me if you didn't already know the answer."
"You were always the best. If you can get me that information a.s.a.p., I'll make it up to you the next time we're together for real."
"Sure you will..." she chirped, eyes looking at the ceiling. "I'm still waiting for that dinner you promised me the last time I used my skills to help you. Did you forget I'm not running a charity here?"
"Of course not. You're quite the shrewd businesswoman and that's why I love you. I heard you sold a new anti-piracy app, recently. How's that working out for you?"
"I can stay indoors honing my gaming skills to the max and talking on the phone with you for as long as I want without having to worry about my bank account so I think it's working out pretty well."
"I'm glad, but you don't want to become too lazy, do you? I just sent you the e-mail address and a link to the author's stories online. Please let me know when you find anything, and Laura..."
"Yes, Jer?"
"Are you masturbating right now?"
"Too much information, don't you think? But..."
"Yes?"
"Next time, I'll wait for you, stud."
She hung up the call knowing that the tease had already taken effect. Jeremy was quite easy when she put her mind to it. Tracking down this mysterious creator of urban legends would surely turn out to be the same. However, her record had to come first. Hopping into another server, she cracked her knuckles and prepared to launch her feminine rage on a new group of unsuspecting foes.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Jeremy was sitting in his apartment, going one more time through the notes Alfred had given him when his laptop informed him of an incoming video call. It was his mother, reaching out all the way from sunny Portugal where she was staying for a month with her new beau. Melanie Winters was a retired accountant who had always been supportive of his only son's life choices even if she believed there was no money to be made in journalism. Not once did she stop him from pursuing his dreams but suspected they wouldn't go that far, In part, she was right.
Before landing on Signs and Wonders, Jeremy had tried his luck at various writing-related projects, including self-published works. Those included a volume of poetic musings and three short stories with supernatural overtones. None of them had been particularly successful but that didn't stop him from trying. One day, he would find a way to get a big publisher to notice him but, until then, he had to play the game of life with the cards he had been dealt, and the rules kept getting stricter.
Alfred was right. The magazine was no longer drawing the numbers it once did, and the medium was getting stale. He doubted this new piece would set things on the right track again but he was no quitter. The job would come to fruition one way or another... after he talked to his mother.
"Hi, Mom. How are things in the Algarve?" he asked, butchering the Portuguese pronunciation as he always did.
"They've never been better. I'm really enjoying my time here, dear. If you're ever feeling too stressed, you should get on a plane and come here." the gray-haired sexagenarian with a smile as big as the Ritz replied.
"Mom, we've been through this a million times already. I'm not interested in visiting Europe. Not for now at least."
"Well, you should. It should do you good. I love Seattle, you know I do, but the rain..."
"It's not raining now," he said, glancing at the window. "Why are you calling, Mom? What's the occasion?"
"The occasion is that I've decided to prolong my stay for a while longer. I won't be back home until after Thanksgiving. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. As long as you're having fun..."
"Definitely! What about you? How have you been doing?"
"Oh, same old... Getting a bit tired of working for Alfred, to be honest. If this new story he gave me today doesn't pan out, I'm thinking of giving him my two weeks' notice, soon."
"I'm sorry to hear that, but I hope you can work things out. What's this new piece about?"
"I'd rather not say."
"Why? Is it a secret?"
"For now, let's call it that, yes."
"Hmm, juicy! You're getting me curious here but I won't pry and wish you good luck instead, if you don't mind."
"Not at all, and thank you. I promise I'll tell you everything after I see how this goes, okay?"
"Okay, Jeremy. I've got to go. I'll call you again the night before going home."
"Okay. Have fun, Mom, and say hello to Matthew for me. Bye."
The screen went black and Jeremy dove into the dossier once again. There were so many impossible descriptions and contradictory information in those pages that it boggled his mind how could anyone believe the stories to be true. It was pure horsecrap.
"Come on, guys. The Black Queen isn't real," he muttered as he sauntered to the fridge to get a cold beer. When he returned to his workstation, he had an e-mail from Laura that read,

"Good news, Jeremy. I found your man. And the best part is, he's been living in the city for the past three years. The address is in the attachment as well as a few tidbits of info you may find useful when you go talk to him. I'll be waiting for that dinner at a restaurant of my choice when you finish working on this. Good luck!
Laura"

"Laura, you did it again. This is great!" he smiled as he perused through the new stuff she had sent him. She had just made his life a lot easier... or so he thought. He was wrong.

((to be continued))