“Wait, a minute—” Clara chirped.

From the corner of her eyes there came an orange glow. The ghouls must have leveraged the network of tunnels to their advantage and had her surrounded. She turned towards the target with glowing eyes and squeezed the trigger.

The hammer moved forward in slow motion, first air escaped from the barrel, followed by the bullet. A moment later the oxygen rich atmosphere ignited the unspent propellant, creating the distinctive flash of gunfire. While the effect was something to behold, she wished it had been faster.

Clara bit the inside of her cheek to maintain focus, and fired another round from her other pistol. Within a fraction of a second, two bullets were travelling towards her first target.

Clara had a rather long and grim history with Homo Stringa, colloquially known as ghouls. It was a ghoul who interfered with her parents’ remains.

It was ghouls who captured Edith, Clara’s former hunting partner, and left her to die slowly from an infection. Most recently, she had been taken captive by government agents and those soulless bastards used a ghoul to interrogate her.

Ghouls were carrion eaters, and not known for their intellect, creativity, or aggressiveness. While they could emulate human behaviour and speech, most who encountered a ghoul knew that something was off.

It did not help that ghouls were unusually gangly. People choose to ignore the unexplainable, because they have no interest in knowing the dangers that surround them.

She dropped into the crypt. While the crossbar was makeshift, it was sturdy enough to deter an attempted break and enter. On the nearest coffin, she found a key that she was sure would fit the locks on the doors. 

“A secure way in and out,” Clara mused.

She searched the crypt to find a gaping hole in the flooring where the dip ended. This was not unexpected, but she would have preferred to find nothing at all.

“Sometimes I hate being right,” Clara said before evacuating all the air from her lungs.

The first clue was the void of light between the doors. That meant someone had barred the door from the other side. Given there was a support column between these doors, she guessed that forcing these open would draw unnecessary attention.

The last clue was the source itself. Given the intensity, she doubted it was electric, and confirming her hunch would be relatively easy. Alas, there was no obvious way to get onto the roof. 

“Time to fly,” Clara said.

Clara confirmed she was alone and shed away her plain Jane persona. Within a minute, she took to the air, but maintained a minimalistic flight path to avoid being spotted.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Clara said.

From up here she confirmed the door was in fact barred from the inside. Since the dead were not known for locking up after themselves, Clara concluded that someone or something had done it. 

“Curiouser, and curiouser,” Clara said.

At first light, Clara was back at the cemetery. Before leaving the hotel, the bulk of her things had been picked up by a courier. That left her with little more than a light pack filled with the basics: pistols, ammunition, basic first-aid kit, a knife, lock picking tools and some rope. A gal has to accessorize.

Outwardly there was nothing peculiar about the cemetery. However, she noticed something peculiar to her last visit. It was a minor detail, even for a hunter, but one that pointed to a potential infestation.

She was back to the spot where she almost tripped. Her eyes followed the straight line until met a crypt. The depression was too long to be a grave, and given how old this cemetery was, she doubted this was a buried utility line.

In fact, the gravestones in this area were old enough that the carved lettering had faded. Years of rain, snow, and wind had smoothed out their surfaces rendering several ineligible. I’d imagine there’d be a public uproar, if a utility company tried to cut through a cemetery.

Evelyn: Are you watching the news? Please tell me you’re seeing this! 😲

Clara: It’s the top news story right now.

Evelyn: I’m so sorry! 😭

Clara: Why? You had no way of knowing that sending me in there would unleash a shitstorm.

Evelyn: What now?

That was a tough question, one that Clara lacked the situational awareness to answer. She had plenty of options, but they were all reactionary. What she needed was to get enough information to make a move and get ahead of this. At least there was someone she could turn to for help.

Clara: We need to meet. Soon.

Evelyn: No details. 🤫

This newscast reminded her of looking at herself in a funhouse mirror, the ones that distorted how she appeared in reality. Clara was not accustomed to dealing with anxiety, but her chest tightening and an associated drop in blood pressure gave her reason to worry. That’s distressing.

“We almost got her,” Silver said.

“Yes!” Sparky shouted.

“They are following in my—” Clara faltered.

“Quiet. She can hear us,” Ethereal warned.

Clara closed her eyes and focused until her heart rate settled. After several deep breaths, it was back to where it belonged, but the sisters continued to whisper in the background.

Tonight. Police are calling it a massacre…

“Is this a rerun?” Clara asked with a furrowed brow.

Authorities believe these crimes are related to the winged…

“How?” Clara asked.

Should we be concerned that this is the start of another rampage?