Clownvamp

S1-01: My Name is Jack Another day, another blood-soaked reminder of why the mayor is down our throats.

The crime scene is barely secured. Los Angeles’ finest...idiots who fumble their way through the academy, only to end up beating some poor souls at a traffic stop.

Anyways, I’m here now. Called away from the west side, beckoned into the hellscape of Beverly Hills. Ready to figure out who killed this man, now splattered on his own linoleum floor.

Dying in a kitchen. Not as bad as the toilet, but close. Your body watched over by appliances. Your last breath witnessed by the breadbasket.

What they won’t teach you in a book is that it all means something...A murder in a bathroom. A murder in a kitchen. Nothing is inconsequential. Did the offender mean to keep things contained (the bathroom)? Was it a crime of passion (the bedroom)? Or was it a domestic escalation (the kitchen)?

That’s why they pay me the medium, government bucks. Fuck it. I’m rambling. Time to figure out who did it. If I was a gambling man (I am), I’d bet the wife did it.

S1-02: A Pool and a Pop “Detective, look round back.”

The blue shirt knew how to get my attention. A vague statement. A promise of a clue.

I found myself walking around the flimsy stucco siding, the murder scene could wait.

In the back was an urban oasis—some dead man’s American dream. Not just deferred, but now out of his hands.

And there it was. Footsteps. Bloody footsteps. Delicate in size. They punctured the backyard’s irksome tranquility.

Where were they going? The pool house?

More importantly, whose footsteps were they? And whose blood?

And then I heard it, a car engine going off. Pop. Pop. A shitty engine at that.

I ran.

S1-03: The Headless Horseman Pop!

As I turned the corner, I saw something that would have to wait...could that be another body?

In the meantime, there was something more certain: In front of me was a speeding car. And what a car it was! Bright pink, with a fresh wax that glistened in the sun. And it appeared...somehow...that it was driving itself.

A greater fool may have thought this some sort of magic. But a brief teenage job at the carnival taught me that “magic” was always a trick. The driver must have been bending over.

Like a headless horseman, the car sped and swerved right past me.

As it came by, I could just make out the license plate: G8D90C.

I didn’t need to take a note. My photographic memory was still solid after all these years of drowning my brain in booze and not-to-be-named chemicals. Anyways.

S1-04: Giorgio Beverly Hills Giorgio’s was an attempt by the business community to turn Rodeo Drive into some sort of “center of luxury.”

I’m not a businessman, but it sounded like a shitty plan to me. Who would want to trek over to this hellhole?

Anyways, here I was. Amongst the fine linens and finer specimens of our species, chasing down a clue. I would leave the license plate to my friends at LAPD.

The pink blankets, seemingly everywhere in this investigation, all had a tag: Giorgio Beverly Hills.

The clerk told me he would look up and see who bought these blankets.

As I waited, I noticed something. The clerk had ducked behind a shelf and started to whisper with another employee. They kept glancing back.

It didn’t look like they were discussing how best to help me.

S1-05: A Clerk with an Agenda and a Knife Suddenly, one of the clerks returned.

She looked pissed. As I noticed her odd necklace, she started shouting.

“Where did you find these blankets?”

“Ma’am, I am an LAPD Detective.”

Without missing a beat, she pulled a giant knife from under the counter.

Suddenly, I realized I was in actual danger.

“You are meddling with the affairs of The Circle.”

I heard a click as the other clerk locked the front door.

Before fully processing what was happening, I started to move my hand toward my gun.

But I was too late.

S1-06: I Brought a Gun to A Knife Fight Sometimes things just don’t work out.

I reminded myself that I was surprised. I wasn’t expecting a small machete to appear from behind the counter.

By the time I could unholster my gun, it was too late. A massive incision straight through my stomach. The world immediately went dark.

I woke up in the hospital.

Why was I alive? A nurse came around.

“How did I get here?”

“You were robbed. Someone found you and brought you.”

I stared at her. “No, I wasn’t.”

The nurse seemed to chuckle. A slight smirk appeared on her lips.