The Beauty on the Beat and the Beast in the Sewers

Treasure

Void
It was quiet down here. Quiet and dark. He liked it that way. Above his head, the roaring 20's were in full swing, and everyone was making the most of every second, for better and worse. It was so much better to be here in the dark than being Up There. Up There used to be his home, but now it carried only bitterness and fear. He paused now and looked up through the holes in the lid of a manhole cover, staring up at mists and the glimpses of light above. He was feeling incredibly melancholic tonight. Perhaps it was soon to be the full moon? New moons made him feel aggressive, and full moons felt thoughtful and lugubrious.

He heaved a sigh and started walking once more. His scales rasped softly against the sides of the tunnel as he walked and his tail hissed like the coils of a serpent as he made his way through the narrow passages. Lower down, the service tunnels were much larger and better suited to something his size, but he'd wanted to try to get a glimpse of the moonlight. Of course, it had to be a cloudy night. It seemed even nature was against him lately. Or perhaps always. If only he-

Noises above him stopped him. He angled his head to peer up through one of the tiny holes in the manhole cover. It was difficult to make out anything from this angle, but he could only just make out the blurred figures of four men fighting in the night street. Three of them wore white robes with pointy hats. He thought they looked ridiculous, but the fourth man, a man of darker skin color, had a look of terror on his face as they dragged him down the street. He followed, watching. Such cowards. They made certain no one could see who they were and carried out these violent acts under cover of night. He did not care much for violence, himself, but if he were to fight someone, he would look them dead in the eyes and fight them one on one. Then again, that was easy to say when you were as large a creature as he was.

The three men in white dragged the colored man to one of the access grates. Two held the struggling man while a third dragged aside the heavy metal bars that blocked the gaping hole to the city's underground. He crouched down, watching as the first man climbed down the metal ladder then stood aside to let the other two come down with their captive. The poor colored man was forced down the ladder only to be knocked off halfway down to land in the muck. Laughter rang out as they pushed the man down. Then the beating began.

He hung back, squirming and wincing at the wet thuds and pained cries. He should leave. He was not far away from these men, and they would see him. He needed to get away and hide. Yet his claws remained rooted to the floor. They were going to let him up soon, right? And let him off with nothing more than some terrible bruises? No... Even as he watched, he could see the focus and the cruelty in the blows. These men were not going to let up until the colored man was dead. He squirmed and let out a quiet whimper.

Oh, Fine!

He took a deep breath and charged forward. He did nothing so crass as to roar, but his claws scraped harshly on metal as he charged down the pipe. He opened his wings as much as he dared to fill the tunnel entirely. Light from the open manhole glinted off sparkling white teeth shaped like daggers. The three men looked up from their victim, and for a moment, all three stood like statues. Then they bolted, screaming as they tried to climb the ladder all at the same time. One managed to make it out before he reached them. The second was not far behind, but the third still clung to the ladder when his horned head whipped into it. The ladder clanged and bent slightly under the impact. The man fell with a cry. He caught the man in his mouth. He took care not to cut the man as he looked up at the open grate. Then he flung the man out. The man flew into the air, screaming, and came down hard. If he had landed on his side, he likely would have been fine aside from some bruises and possibly a broken bone or two, but his shoulder hit the pavement first, his head striking next with a solid crack! He lay like a rag doll.

He winced at the sound. He had not meant for that to happen, but perhaps the man was alright. Perhaps. He turned away and looked down at the colored man who lay in the muck panting, eyes starting out of his head. The man did not move, lying perfectly still. He was already showing some impressive bruising. He stepped over the colored man delicately and continued on his way down the pipes, disappearing in the darkness.

After a minute of playing dead, the colored man dragged himself up, clambered up the ladder, and took off running. The body of the man in white lay forgotten in the street. A few more minutes passed. Then the sound of iron scraping stone disturbed the night as a single claw carefully moved the grate back into position blocking the access into the sewers.
 
Evie tumbled out of the red door of her favorite speakeasy. She held her index finger out, pointing at the man who had decided to toss her out into the unforgiving night. "You better be careful throwing out all the pretty women, soon all the men will have to look at is your ugly face!" The young, blonde hurled the insult, albeit with quite a bit of slurring, only to have the door be slammed against her unceremoniously. She huffed, picking up the suit jacket she had dropped on her way out. Flinging it over her shoulders, she let it lay there nonchalantly as she dug around in her trouser pockets for her cigarette case.

"A-ha!" She said triumphantly, holding the case up to the light of the moon. And what a beautiful moon it was, she thought. And while she had managed to find her cigarette case, that still meant she needed to find the lighter. Placing the thin white stick of nicotine in between her red painted lips, she let it rest there as her hands went searching for the second step.

It was as she was standing off to the side of a row of red, brick buildings that she first heard that shuffle down the street to her left. She paused her searching and squinted into the foggy darkness that seemed to permeate the city at night. Four shadowy figures became clearer, and in her curiosity, she plucked the cigarette from her mouth and put it back into its case. She pocketed the case and began to silently meander towards the grouping of what was becoming the outline of men.

She was about four yards away when she saw the three men that were dragging the fourth, open a city grate and drop into its depths. They dragged the wounded man with them and Evie spurred into motion. Making it to the grate just as they seemed to finish descending, she peered into the darkness, looking down the stairs there. Now would be a great time for her to have found her lighter, she teased herself. Luckily, though it was dreadfully dark, it seemed like the grouping had moved away from the direct entrance. With about as much grace as she could manage, she eased herself down the stairs, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light that streamed in from the moon and stars above.

Evie tip-toed the farther down she went and soon she could see the three men again. But something was wrong. There was screaming now and it was coming in her direction. She flung herself to the left, off the last few steps of the ladder. Slamming her back into the wall of the sewer, she folded in on herself to crouch as small as she could to not be seen as the two men from before approached the ladder.

The next series of events would forever be burned in Evie's memory. She watched as two of the men practically raced up the ladder and up to safety. The third man however, spent just too long and when he looked behind him he gave a horrified expression before something snatched him from the rungs. Evie pulled her knees to her chest, and wrapped her long, slender arms around them, her eyes went wide. The alcohol that had clouded her judgment before seemed to dissipate in her stomach as she watched a monstrosity of a creature heft the man out of the sewer as easily as if he was a bug.

She sat very still, trying not to make any noise with her breath, as the creature then approached the other man, who seemed to still be wounded on the ground. She expected another show of strength but instead the creature moved with such gentleness as it inspected him. Without any other action, the creature then disappeared farther down the tunnel where it had emerged. Evie, still in complete shock, didn't move when the remaining man hopped into motion and exited the sewer. She didn't even move when the creature came back and slid the grate back in place, effectively sealing her down there with it.

Evie only moved when she felt something moving into her hair. With a yelp she flicked the rat, who was trying to make a nest of her hair, out into the central area of the sewer, right in front of the creature. Her breath disappeared, and her eyes shone with terror as she looked up to meet the gaze of the creature before her.
 
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During the fight, he hadn't noticed the presence of the fifth person. He made his way slowly down the pipe, intending to delve into the lower levels, but then he paused. There was a scent that pierced through the usual smells of the sewer and tickled his nose, making him wrinkle the offended apendage. He paused and sniffed. Yes, something or someone was down here. Scents of tabacco, perfume, alcohal, shoe leather, startch... A female. He tipped his head, listening to the thump of a beating heart. He turned with surprising ease for something so big in a space so small and lowered his head to the average human eye-level and turned back around the corner.

The human flicked a rat, tossing it right at his feet. The look on her face as she met his eyes was almost amusing. And then it wasn't. She had seen him! She had clearly seen him and would not be able to put it down to shadows or drunkenness. She was clearly intoxicated, but not that intoxicated. She would tell others about him! No. He could not have that. His existance down here might be a dark, lonely, smelly one, but it was something, and here he was moderately independant. If he wasn't killed outright, he'd be captured and studied. He was not going to do that!

He growled, letting the low rumble build in his gut, rise through his chest, and tumble out his mouth like a stone landslide! Then he roared.
 
Evie's first thought was to try and appear invisible, but since she was not some magical wizard, she realized rather quickly that this was foolhardy. So her next inkling was that the safest bet was to launch herself to the stairwell. But the moment she stood up, preparing to reach the stairs, she knew there was no hope, especially when the growl started low in the creatures throat. She backed up into the wall, her palms laying flat against the stone there as the growl erupted into something more.

Soon the sound was deafening and the creature opened it large maw to roar. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly shut, and turned her head away from the creature. He seemed to roar for an eternity but eventually it went quiet and Evie peeked out to see the creature still looking at her.

The most curious part about this encounter was that when she gazed into the creature's eyes there was something human about them, intelligent and thoughtful that made Evie pause in her fear, if only for a moment. She stepped forward, one tentatively front only, and then held her hands out in front of her in submission.

"I'm not here to hurt you," she whispered. "I just followed those men." It was a confession and her voice was tinged with regret for ever coming down here in the first place. "Please, just let me go." Evie lowered her gaze and hoped that the humanity she saw in the creature's eyes was also filled with compassion.
 
He hissed, a terrible sound, like the sound of lava as it met the ocean and vaporized the water. He did not advance, instead taking a careful step back, taking care not to step on his own tail. The ladder leading to the surface was there right behind her. All she had to do was leave. Go up the rungs and get out of here. Hopefully, no one would believe the tale of one slightly intoxicated female, and there was little doubt he could hide himself away so they would never find him. He knew these tunnels better then the men who had built them, even better as he knew of several preexisting tunnels, as well.

He growled again and snapped at her. His gleaming teeth clashed furiously. Away! Go away! He dared not retreat until he saw her vanish up the ladder. Surely the grate would be no trouble for her, especially not if she was scared he would eat her. And he would! Well, in truth, no, but he could not let her stay!
 
Evie watched as the creature hissed, which made her flinch. It didn't move though, didn't advance on her and Evie even felt like he'd taken a step or two backwards. Her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and it was just enough of a pause for the creature to then pivot to growling and snapping at her. His teeth were roughly the length of her forearm, maybe longer, and no one needed to tell her twice to get the hell out of there.

So she scrambled to the bent ladder, scampering up it carefully. When she got to the grate, she pushed against it roughly, and much to her gratefulness, it popped up so that she could slid it over. As she hauled her body our of the hole, scampering up the last few steps, she stopped. Whatever possessed her to look back, she had no idea, but she gazed down into the depths to see the gleaming eyes once more.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. Evie then stood up and took to a jog. It was a long shot but surely Robert would be at the office still. He seemed to spend all his time there anyways.

--

It took her nearly fifteen minutes but she managed to make it to just outside Robert Douglas's office. Her editor-in-chief and uncle. She'd never known what her aunt had seen in this man but she'd married him all the same. And Evie couldn't really complain because the family connection had made it possible for her to even work at a newspaper. Sure, she was relegated to writing about nuptials and engagements, with the odd obituary thrown in, but it was more than most women got a shot at.

Tonight, though, she had the story pitch of a lifetime. Surely, he'd listen to her. Even if he didn't believe her. What harm did it do him to have her trudging around in the sewers in search of a mythical monster?

Still she paused, nervous of the rejection she often got when pitching a story to him. Taking a deep breath, she knocked twice on his door, opening it slightly to peer in at him still at his desk.

"Mr. Douglas," she said tentatively, family or not he was still her boss. "Do you have a moment?"

It was as he looked up at her that she remembered how she must look. She was disheveled, surely smelled like alcohol and smoke, and the entire backside of her clothes were dirty with muck and whatever other stains clung to fabric in a sewer.
 
Robert Douglas was tired from a long day of work and looking forward to going home as soon as he finished putting the finishing touches on tomorrow's paper, leaving the possibility of breaking news in the morning. He heaved a sigh when he heard the voice of one Evelyn "Evie" Fern, the one person in this world who was not only a thorn in his side, but someone who twisted that thorn. Why? But what work she did was good - when it was not highly controversial - and a good reporter was not to be sneezed at. Besides, his wife doted on her.

"I thought you'd gone home for the night, Evelyn, or at least gone," he said wearily before he looked up. He blanched at the sight of the woman in his doorway. "Good heavens, woman! What happened? Are you alright?" He rose from his chair and started around the desk. "Are you in trouble?"
 
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