"Welcome one and all, to your personalised adventure... at Club Strange!"
The extravagant announcer opens the hottest show in the district, to thunderous applaud. Hundreds of excited customers plug in to the clubs virtual stimulation center, rows of booths filled with all walks of life gather to release their inner desires. The premiere mind weaver developed specifically for this illustrious venue, the 'Mind Blaster', A virtual reality system will all the bells and trinkets. Lacking on no fronts, the mind blaster is equipped with enhanced senses to heighten the experience, from the lightning touch to the orgasmic tones. What really makes the 'MB' truly special however, is the automated subconsious sensor. The mind blaster knows what you want before you even do, it knows you better than you know yourself, its ready to make every hidden, repressed desire flow to the surface like an erupting... volcano.
In the exotically lit hall with darkened shades of velvet; cherry blossom and azure commanding the venue's lustful tone, the Strange's performers lie connected to their patron. The MB doesn't create a virtual person from the clients memory, thats far less profitable than marketing their beautiful girls to appear alongside them. Patrons of the classy establishment will simply choose their desired available entertainer like selecting fine wines off of a menu, delievered in much the same fashion. All shapes, sizes, aesthetics and personalities are covered for. The enormous venue contains more than just the main hall; there is a bar room, a plethora of private spaces if you have the credits and a viewing plaza if thats more your style. Other than that, the staff only locations are heavily guarded by men you'd not like to get the wrong side of.
Club Strange offers more than just a virtual tug of course, dancers, strippers and a show. A large decorated stage stands at the far end of the hall that can be watched inside the MB or out. A chorus of moans ring out around the plaza; pleasure, pain, fear and anger. Every need being catered to at once, a low bassline fills the air as the lights flicker in tandem to the music, dancers glide to the beat and show off their expertise. A long night of pleasure ahead, Club Strange is in full swing.
Such is the way with all things wonderful, they must come to an end and so, Club Strange closes for the night. Satisfied customers exit in droves, the odd trouble maker made an example of for getting carried away. The number one rule of Club Strange is an easy one to follow in princible, don't touch the girls, not in real life anyway. This proves to be far more difficult in practice for many however as the security earn their upkeep nightly.
After a nights work, the dressing room is filled with actresses changing out of their work atire, preparing to return to their lives outside of the club. Many of the girls lived here, not because they weren't paid well but out of the kindness of the owners heart, while some had their own places and preffered the independence.
After the hustle and bustle of closing time, only a handfull of girls were still lingering, outside in the alleyway one such entertainer took her time enjoying a long awaited cigarette. Her slow, deep breath frosted and highlighted in the cold air.
"Blyad, what a long night"
The girl muttered to herself with a sigh, watching her shadow wave in the spotlight of the door.
She stood there oblivious to her surroundings as the world gradually began zone out around her. Her thoughts slowly wandered off as she took drag after drag of her cigarette. Suddenly a noise snapped her out of her trance, a figure she couldn't distinguish was standing in the shadows, just outside of the shine of the light. They didn't speak a word but the harder she tried to focus on them, the more intangible they became.
"пр-привет(H-Hello?!)"
The rising fear forced out her mother tongue.
Her vision started to blur, the figure suddenly spoke out to her but nothing made sense, as if someone was speaking a foreign language behind a cloth mask.
"No- please... Help"
The figures hand reached out towards her. Her sight resembled the glitching of- Suddenly her fear came to realisation, the optics she used for work we're still connected. Pitch black followed and a deathly scream pierced her lips.
"Hey Andre, got a warm one for ya' nice and early in the morning, just how you like it."
The officer joked loudly towards the approaching detective.
"You know I prefer my drinks iced, and my mornings late, what've we got?"
Andre let out a dry chuckle, no stranger to lightening the mood, even in the most dire of circumstances.
"Forensics already in there, they've got the deets, up your alley I'm sure sarge."
The officer gestured behind him to a short drown haired lady hunched over a set of analytical equipment in an alleyway.
Andre nodded and passed through the alarm barrier which turned green in recognition of his badge number, before returning to red. As he closed in on the scientist, her apparent keen insticts alerted her to his presence.
"Sarge."
She nodded towards Andre.
"What we got here Lily?
He raised a hand towards the outline of the body long removed, waiting on an expert analysis.
"Collections already taken her in for an autopsy but... Female, twenty three years old russian immigrant, an adult actress working at the establishment on our right, time of death around 2 to 3 am, stone cold when we found her."
She explained.
"Well not surprising, it is winter, anything else?"
As if not missing a beat, she continued.
"Stone cold when we found her, except, for her spinal column leading up to her macular holes. Someone fried this girl."
"Fried? They fried a dancer? Thats odd, to someone with those skills shes worth more alive..."
Andre began to theorise.
"Yeah but thats not all, according to her records she had four expensive implants, three of which are genital related and one to her optics."
Lily transferred the list over to Andre via her netlink.
"Thanks, and you're going to tell me they're gone?"
Andre sighed as he spoke.
"Yes... And no. The genital implants haven't been touched, which is weird because they're far more expensive than the optical ones."
Lily's face bore confusion but she continued through it.
"However her optical implants, while not expensive, are rare. An older model not in circulation anymore."
"Well aren't we lucky, the cyber unit knows about this already?"
Andre postured, scratching his chin.
"Of course, they've probably already emailed you, you really should check those first thing sarge."
Lily teased in a nagging kind of way.
"SIR! HAAA, HAAAA, HAAAAAAA, Sorry I'm late sir! Got here as fast as I could!"
A shorter girl rushed up in front of the two and gasped for air, hands on each knee.
"Junior Detective Peterson, word of advice, if you're going to be sorry about something- just don't do it in the first place."
Andre's tone held some venom, on the surface at least.
"I won't let it happen again sir!"
She bursted out in panic.
"Anyone see this shit?"
His tone instantly reverted to a tired old man.
"Theres a girl in the dressing room the other side of that door, and the owner is in her office waiting for you."
Lily motioned with a thumb over her shoulder and Andre walked off with a simple 'thanks'.
"Don't worry Terry, he's a big softie really"
Lily winked to her and continued her work, leaving Terry to chase after Andre.
As Terry stepped past Lily, she noted the trash cans thrown about, blood splattered everywhere and the light above the door cracked. On the other side of the door opened up to a lavish dressing room, in comparison. At one of the numerous dressing tables, a young lady with short red hair sat nervously with an officer. Everything about her appearence gave of the aesthetic of a punk, covered in tattoo's and piercings. In contrast, right now, she just looked like any terrified kid on the street.
"Ahh Sarge, sending you the statement now."
The officer stood up from the stool at Andre's presence and acted accordingly.
"Thanks, you can wait with the other for now if you want."
Andre casually instructed as he poured over the notes.
"Hmm, Hello Miss... Hall is it?"
His words were soft, but strong, demanding response but without fear.
"Ahh! Sorry, I uhh, Jenny. Names Jenny."
She replied sporadically.
"Relax miss... Relax Jenny, I just want to ask a couple of things, if thats alright?"
Andres tone softened further, adjusting to Jenny's behaviour.
"A-Alright, please, I knew Maria, we worked together."
Jenny's eyes tremble as she speaks her now dead friend's name.
"And you live in this venue Jenny?"
"Thats correct, a lot of us girls do, not maria though."
Andre nodded to her words, all of this was already answered of course, he just wanted to calm her down.
"So you were the one to first found her body right? Know anyone who might want to hurt her? Anyone she's close to? Anyone seen close to her?"
Andre rapid fired questions towards Jenny, eyes locked on her.
"I uhh- I mean, no... Just no. She wasn't always all that close to the other girls her, kept her own space, lived in her own appartment. She was a nice girl though, just liked her own space is all. Always went out for a cigarette after her shift, just like last night..."
Jenny's eyes wattered with each passing sentence, fear rippling around her like an aura, fear and shock.
"It's okay Jenny, we'll get the bottom of this, don't you worry!"
Terry said in her most comforting tone, which was quite smoothing to be fair. Terry was the youngest Juinor Detective for a reason.
Jenny responded with a wry smile, she had calmed down slightly but the fact one of her comrades were dead still haunted her. Andre paused for a moment and asked again.
"Is there anything about Maria you can think of that might help uncover what happened here?"
Andres voice wrapped in warmth, conveyed a sense of desperation. A technique he'd learned to pull on the heart strings of vulnerable witnesses who were too overwhelemed to think straight.
"Well, when she first came here I noticed underneath her hair, behind her ear... She had a tattoo, I can't be certain because I never asked. But I think it was the clasping hands of the Carthanon."
She steeled herself to give over what little information she had.
"The cult of Carthanon? Thank you Miss Hall, you're free to go and we'll contact you if we require anything further."
Jenny nodded and shot off to her room.
"You don't think the cult would pull something like this right sarge?"
Terry nervously questioned.
"I don't know, it certainly isn't beyond them but outside of the slums? Not likely... Lets go, we've keeping one more lady waiting."
Andre strolled off in front of Terry, rubbing his index finger with his thumb as he walked.
"Come in."
A saltry voice echoed out the intercom to her office.
The classically carved wooden door gently swung open as Andre and his partner Terry carefully entered the room. Before them an elegant lady roughly the same height as Andre sat crossed legged behind an ivory desk, her aura radiated exquisite. Like if fine dinning was a person, adorned in an expensive looking fur coat with leopard decal, her pitch black hair curled around her ears revealing a pair of diamond encrusted earings. Without knowing this woman, you knew she was the boss.
"So what can I do for you two fine officers?"
Her suggestive tone could fool you into thinking someone hadn't just died on her doorsteps, an employee no less.
"Petty Strange, is it? Proprietor of Club Strange, quite the place you've got here if you don't mind me saying."
Andre's words, tone and even his kadence had completely switched from how he spoke to Jenny.
"Thank you officer but-"
Terry cut her off abruptly.
"Detective Sergeant Andre and Junior Detective Terry, we have some questions for you, if you wouldn't mind, ma'am."
Terry, after closely watching Andre, decided to mimmic his actions and take a more aggressive approach. Petty smirked at the young detectives words and responded with a chuckle.
"Of course, how rude of me! Ask away, although I wonder if you have anything left to ask that previous officer didn't?"
Her wry smile continued as she teased once more.
"Ma'am, one of your employees was found dead on your back door last night and forgive me for saying, you don't seem too choked up about it."
Andre's words cut with precision. Petty's smile vanished as she slowly uncrossed her legs, placed to fists on her desk and gently rose.
"Forgive me officer Andre, if my tone offends you. But every single girl working here, is under my care. They are in essence my children."
Her words remained calm, but the grit teeth and eyes filled with explosive hatred said otherwise. Petty was either an excellent actress, or she truly did care for everyone here. With a flick of her wrist, petty threw a data chip out across the table while taking a deep breath.
"Detective, you're aware of what our speciality is here, correct? We offer an experience like no other!"
Petty extended an arm out, slowly stretching outwards until horizontal with her shoulder in quite the boisterous fashion.
"Our Mind Blaster system is one of a kind, its also, always recording."
Her tone dropped substantially, more serious than ever.
"We going to see anything with this? The forensics said she was fried."
Andre postured the question with doubt.
"The fuck if I know, can't bare to watch it. Take it and get out, don't come back till you've caught her killer."
Petty rolled her eyes towards the door in a very expressive motion. Not to overstay their welcome, the two made their way out.
"Well at least we have something to work with, right Sarge?"
Terry, ever the optimist, chirped out.
"The cult of fucking Carthanon and a mind weave that might well show us nothing, the odds are in our favour junior."
Andre tugged at his coat before the two made their way back to his unmarked car.
