Hunters

[Lumeneire]

A thread between @Lumeneire and @jade162 .

 

[jade162]

Name: Jack Kingston


Age: 24


Height: 6'1"


Hair color: Black


Eye color: Green


Wolf fur: Black


Wolf eyes: Yellow

 

[Lumeneire]

Name: Winta Everett


Age: 23


Height: 5"6


Hair Colour: Red


Eye Colour: Blue 



Detective Everett pinned the criminal to the floor beneath the heel of her boot. His bloodshot eyes and spotty face exuded an expression of fear. Saliva frothed from his mouth as he tried to speak and the veins on his neck bulged like lengths of rope forced up through his skin. Winta released her boot and crouched down beside him. Her red hair fell over her face like a veil of molten lava as she loomed over his shivering form and her milky white hands looked like starlight against the mans grubby clothes.


"Tell me what you know and I just might not charge you for obstruction of justice." The words escaped from her mouth like a snake. It sounded truthful and charming, but underlying hints of sarcasm and deceit bubbled below the surface. The man lay on his back with his hands groping at his throat now. His drugged up eyes darted from her face to the door behind her and was clearly calculating how to escape. Winta shook her head and tutted.


"Nuh, uh, uh buddy boy. Don't go thinking about doing anything crazy." Her hand slipped to the side arm strapped to her hip and his jittering gaze followed.


"I wouldn't want to have to use this on that pretty face of yours. I guess I could use the boot again..." The man scratched as his neck as if trying to claw off the memory of her last attack and finally gave in. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and looked her in the eye. His stinking hot breath brushed against her nose like a garbage bin on a hot day and his brown teeth churned her stomach.


"I don't know the guy's name." The words came out with a drawling Texan accent and Winta drew in closer with ferocity in her eyes. She wouldn't let the perpetrator slip through her fingers so easily as she had done before and making him talk was her main priority. She showed how serious she was with the gritted jaw that seized her face.


"All I know is that the guy who killed all those perdy ladies visits the Vanity Tank club every friday night. It's where he finds the girls he wants to take and..." His words stopped there and a look of disgust and fear washed over his redneck features. Winta pushed him back onto the floor and stood up herself. At least she knew where to really start looking now. As she stood, she lifted her boot over his body and the man coward in fear, hiding behind his skeleton thin arm.


"If I catch you selling again Petey, I will arrest you, this is your last chance." She slammed her boot down next to his head and watched as his body shrank with fear. A puddle of yellow spread from his crotch down his left leg and she watched as he curled into a fetal position and cradled himself from her threat.


As she left the building, the bright sunlight stung her eyes. The drugs den she had been interrogating in had boarded up windows and musty sweat hung in the air. She sucked in a lungful of clean oxygen and pulled the flip phone from the back pocket of her tight black jeans. She flipped open the cheap silver phone and her fingers danced across the keys at lightening speed.


To: Sergeant Wallace


Perp gave up location.


Suspect frequents Vanity Tank Club.


Requesting information of site


and known accomplices of


establishment.


From: Detective Everett


As soon as the message beeped away, she flipped the phone closed and shoved it back into her pocket. With her eyes fully adjusted and lungs filled with fresh air, she felt as fresh as a daisy. She licked her lips to moisten the chapped skin and it dawned on her just how thirsty she was. Winta thought of this as a perfect opportunity to mix work with pleasure. The Vanity Tank sounded like a fine place to moisten her tastebuds and it was a friday evening afterall.

 

[jade162]

Jack stared down at the glass that rested on the counter of the club he'd wandered into- Really just for a drink, and nothing more. He wasn't a very big fan of the Vanity Tank place itself, but he didn't mind the drinks that he got there. His right hand was wrapped loosely around the small round glass, his thumb softly and slowly rubbing along the rounded, smooth edge of it slowly back and forth while he watched the two ice cubes that had been plunked inside floating in the contents of the glass. At the top of the glass, he could see small beads of sweat forming on the sides of the glass, and he scrunched his nose slightly for the smallest moment.


Lifting the glass edge to his lips, he took another nicely sized swallow, before setting the glass softly back down against the counter, his heels resting against the bottom bar of the stood chair he sat at. "What another, sweetheart?" The bartender casually asked him as she was drying a few glasses with a white rag that she held in a hand after they'd been cleaned. "Might as well," Jack gruffly replied with a small huff. He knew what he was, but he didn't know much more then that. After he'd realized the first night that he'd shifted forcefully by the full moon's intriguing luminous glare, he'd read as many books as he could find. Sadly, they didn't help much. Lifting the glass again, Jack easily downed what half was left of the mildly burning liquid, before setting the glass down with a small clink, and pushing it forward, and away from himself. He'd realized with previous attempts, that even to get a buzz, it took him slightly more drinks to get himself to that point.


After another full glass was set in front of him, Jack thanked the bartender, his voice deep yet smooth. For a moment he rolled his shoulders, of which were covered along with his back by the collared leather jacket that he wore- Beneath it wearing a somewhat tightly fitting white t-shirt, along with a loose pair of jeans and casual shoes to go along with it all. His strangely cautious and aware emerald gaze glanced around the room before he picked up the new glass to take a few swallows, before he leaned back slightly in his seat, glancing towards the ceiling as if in silent prayer or hopeful thinking.