Detective Barlowe's Investigations

Josh drove along through the streets of The Slums, well outside the beaten path of the typical citizen. It wasn't Gotham- which he had only heard about through heresay through training. He had never been there personally so couldn't vouche for whether or not the comparison that 'Gotham's Streets' were worse or not was true. People liked to exaggerate when they told stories like the ones he heard but were too consistent to be discarded as mere heresay- for the most part. So why was he here? Well, to begin with there had been a noticeable spike in domestic crime in the last month or so atleast. They weren't committed by any big name villains or else the local "superheroes" would have handled them. However they were also done in such a way that there were no solid evidence to tell who was responsible. Instead they had one other theme in common: ninjas.

Never in his life would he have thought he was trying to hunt down ninjas. Only these ninjas weren't human, that much he and everyone at the station agreed on. It also explained how they were able to so easily get in and out without a trace. They would simply "appear" through some blindspot in the cameras, get by whatever lock was in place and make off with the goods for the owner to find missing the following morning. Was your typical stolen goods, jewlery and electronics mostly. But then reports of cars and even people going missing started to add to the list. It also came to their attention that a new gang had set up shop, seemingly appearing overnight and snatching up turf contested by other local street gangs. There wasn't much info on the gang, apart from their oriental roots. And surprisingly thus far, none of their members had been caught doing anything illegal- nothing serious enough for an arrest anyway. Their sources also said that the local gangs weren't happy about these outsiders snatching up turf they were "entitled" to having. So why wasn't there more signs of conflict?

That was one of many questions he was hoping to answer, learning of one of the new gang's preferred hangout spots in The Slums. A recently remodeled nightclub that once belonged to one of the local gangs. "Onan Lounge." Josh blinked as he read off the name to himself. There was... something he was missing here but he couldn't put his finger on it. Finding himself a parking spot, Josh went by the line straight toward the front and flashed his badge to the bouncer. "Police business," he said loud enough for the people in line to hear him aswell. The Bouncer looked at him for a moment as if sizing him up, to what end Josh didn't know but there would be consequences if he were denied- which The Bouncer seemed to be aware of in his contemplation.

Once he stepped aside, Josh walked into what he was going to call "a cyberpunk" strip club. You wouldn't be able to tell by the outside but this was in his opinion, too nice of a place to be in The Slums of all places.The Music currently playing didn't completely match, though he didn't know much about the genre in the first place. He only thought to place "cyberpunk" because of the mostly black, to dark interior with colored neon lights lining the edges. It reminded him of Tron- that counted right? There was a coat check by the entrance, which he ignored for the obvious reason his jacket helped conceal his firearms. And he got the idea to label the place a strip club because of how some of the workers were "dressed." He noted that a lot of the security here were atleast wearing the jackets similar to the new gang he was investigating.

Walking passed the coat pickup, he made his way further inside and took in everything. He made a mental note to bring a pair of sunglasses next time, his eyes adjusting to the dark only to get burned by the lights of the main dance floor. It also continued to surprise him. The layout was two floors, with the street level descending down to the main dance floor where most of the clientele danced before a stage where a DJ blared music. That took up most of the main floor alongside a bar and sitting area with a door to what he presumed to be the kitchen and employees only areas. There were also some bathrooms off to the side just across from the dance floor, along with two doors along the wall that each had another Bouncer of sorts. One door was by the stairs he had just walked down, and the other was further down closest to the kitchen where workers (and "entertainers") would go through. There were also some stairs between the two that went up to the second floor, which mostly looked like more sitting or viewing areas along with a number of what he assumed to be "VIP" rooms.

He also thought he saw where the owner's office was when someone tried getting his attention. "Can I help you sir?" Josh turned and saw who was talking to him. He tilted his head at how she was dressed. What she was wearing was very loosely what you'd call a uniform- either she took a lot of creative liberties or the owner didn't have much in the way of dress code.

"Yeah, I'm Detective Barlowe. I need to speak with the manager or whoever is in charge of this place," he replied casually, flashing his badge again. He would have offered an apology for oggling her but quickly noticed that she didn't seem bothered in the slightest. Was it arrogant to think she was trying to flirt with him on purpose?

"O-oh? Is something wrong?" She flinched, her tone becoming nervous after she saw the badge.

"I hope not. Just wanted to ask them some questions for my investigation," he said reassuringly. Why was she suddenly so nervous?

"O-oh, alright- follow me," she said relaxing alittle bit as she led the way. Josh continued to keep his eyes peeled, continuing to get a feel for the layout and also an idea of what he was dealing with. He noted that there were quite the number of security goons- most of which wearing similar jackets to the ones worn by the gang he was investigating. It was hard to tell if the owner of the club simply didn't enforce much of a dress code at this point. And it made plenty of sense for there to be so much security because of where it was located. "Wait here for a moment please," his guide told him once they had made their way around to the office sitting over the kitchen, another flight of stairs down a door marked "employees only" nearby with another guard by it. And there were several people clearly linked to the gang at the sitting area just outside.They seemed to stop talking for a moment to look up at him suspiciously.

"Sup; any of you got a light?" He asked as he started to pull a cigarette put, trying to gesture that he wanted a light with one hand. He didn't need to ask if he could smoke based on some of the smells he picked up from some of the VIP rooms. One of the gansters glanced at her friends before pulling out a lighter and offered it to him. "Thank you kindly," he said flicking it on with much practice. He took a long drag, looking at the lighter for a moment before handing it back to her. "Nice lighter," he commented, letting alittle smoke out before completely exhaling afterward. The gangster merely took it back, looking back to the others before saying something in Japanese.

The others then mostly ignored him as the girl from before came back. "She'll see you now," she said holding the door open for him, closing it once he was inside. The office was rather simple compared to the rest of the club. It's only notable feature being that unlike the rest of the place, this place was well lit- which was very jarring for anyone coming in.

"Hello Detective, have a seat. Can I get you anything; a drink maybe?" The Owner offered him as he came in. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he could make out who was speaking. Another oriental girl like some of the ones sitting outside. She did not however have the look of a street gangster, not on the surface. Her tone was also sincere, welcoming even. However, there was a small but still noticeable tattoo near the corner of one of her eyes.

"Thanks but I'm on duty right now," he replied with a sigh. A place this nice had to have some good stuff to drink too. But he didn't know how long he'd be here and he didn't need any more ammo for his superiors to use against him should something go south. That was a concern neither here nor there at this point. "Which is a damn shame too. You've got a nice establishment here," he added sincerely, taking a seat across from her. He quickly took note of the fact that there was not a window from this room to the outside, not an overly important thing to note but he had missed it while his eyes had been adjusting. There were also a few paintings that he didn't recognize.

"So how CAN I help you? I was told you had some questions for me," she brought him back to why he was here.

"Right, that IS why I came here. So what is your relationship to the people sitting just outside your door?" He asked simply, taking one last puff from his cigarette before putting it out the ash tray on the table.

"They're paying customers," she smiled nonchalantly, sounded like a rehearsed answer to him.

"Alright- and what of some of your security? Are you aware that some of your security is wearing colors and identical brands as them?" He continued watching her. She hadn't asked him why he was asking about them specifically.

"I would guess that they're friends. And it IS a popular style from when I still lived in Japan. Why do you ask?" She replied, finally asking him about his reason for asking.

"Are you aware that these people are part of a new gang that's set up shop here in Jump? One that 'I' would assume is from Japan, based on your statement about it being a popular style before you left Japan. How long did you say that was again?" Barlowe continued, watching her expression go blank for a moment.

"I-I didn't say," she replied, catching herself from making a mistake. "What does that have to do with me or my establishment?" She questioned simply.

"A lovely young lady like you doesn't look like she has much work experience, which also rules out the possibility that you've been here for long. This ALSO used to belong to a known member of one of the local street gangs before he suddenly vanished without a trace, and here you are now," Barlowe replied seriously. Her expression didn't change too much, she looked like she was getting more agitated by his line of questioning.

"What are you getting at detective?" She asked after catching herself again. Her tone wasn't hostile or defensive as he had expected, just... uncomfortable.

"Well don't take this the wrong way- but it seems like a very strange series coincidences that a new gang of mostly foreigners come into town, a known gang member of a rival gang going missing, and this club that he used to own suddenly being bought and remodeled where this aforementioned new gang has been seen hanging out. On top of that, SOME of this club's security is wearing jackets belonging to the same brand as this gang- who are also oriental. And here you are, in the middle of it," Barlowe replied simply. "And like I said, you do not strike me as someone who has been here for too long, or that has been working in this kind of field for long enough to be hired by the kind of spender that completely remodels an old gang hangout," he pressed on, relaxed in his chair. But he was giving her a piercing gaze as she looked nervous.

"Stranger things have happened," she said stiffly, clearly alittle rattled by what he was saying but there was something else about it that seemed off. "It was not easy for me, back in Japan. I am not proud of some of the things I had to do. I am fortunate and grateful for the chance I have been given to... live without fear," she continued in a guarded tone of voice. That was not quite what he had been expecting to hear, it wasn't directly an admission of guilt but it didn't dismiss it either. It almost sounded like she knew what he was getting at, had been more involved with this gang and was now "enjoying" a life with some extent of comfort. Or maybe there was something else to this.

"We all have our skeletons. I'm glad it's worked out for you like it has," he smiled sincerely. "You're very lucky indeed to have gotten this job. I'm just worried about some of the clientele you're attracting, and the circumstances behind it. Would be a damned shame to have worked all the way up to this point for it all to suddenly fall apart because someone discovered something you wouldn't want found out," he continued getting to his feet. She blinked with a start to see him stand up, clearly looking like she thought she said something she shouldn't have and trying to recall. "Thank you for your time, I'll be on my way," he finished straightening his jacket.

"O-oh? Is that everything? Did I help any?" She questioned, also getting to her feet. She sounded like she was trying to find out if she had royally screwed up or something.

"Alittle. It's shed light on some things, thanks for that. I might drop back in some other time, maybe when I'm off duty I can take you up on that drink," he chuckled pulling out a small notepad and tearing off a piece of paper. He wrote a number down and offered it to her. "If you find out anything else that you think might help my investigations, here's my work number," he added.

She looked at it like it'd burn her before taking it. "S-sure, we're always happy to serve our men in uniform," she said slipping back into welcoming tone. Barlowe made his way out, passing by the now vacant chairs by the office door. He hoped she wouldn't get into too much trouble- if his intuition was right, she didn't serve a direct purpose in the gang's operations. That didn't mean she wasn't involved, just that she no longer had to partake in their more illicit activities. It also gave me alittle insight into the gang's workings- it seemed like there were more women than men, with the women being given more liberties than the men. Was too soon to know for sure but he did have more stops to make. She didn't strike him as the gang leader either, and it was too soon to know if she was important to someone in the gang to warrant giving her a cushy job. As far as he knew, once you were in, it was very hard to get out.

Making his way out to his car, he suddenly had the feeling that someone was watching him. But naturally when he turned to look, there was no one there. He also thought he heard a giggle from somewhere, which meant only one thing. It was time for some more pills! Hopping into his car and reaching into the glove compartment, he pulled out a bottle of water and a couple of his antipsychotic pulls which he downed. Then for a split second, he thought he saw a pair of amber colored eyes staring at him in the rearview mirror- spinning around and looking to find... no one. Back in the mirror there was nothing, only confirming that he needed his pills before he started to pull out of the parking lot. Nothing to do now but head home and get some sleep for tomorrow- maybe he'd follow up on one of his other leads when the sun was still up. For some reason he didn't feel like he was safe right now at night...

**WARNING, graphic material involving some gorey detail and disturbing "Jack The Ripper" styled murders coming up in places which will be marked off by Spoiler tags. Read at your own discretion. Also swearing in varying degrees! Again, the subject matter and details might be disturbing to read so this is your only warning!**

3:00am...


He pulled up to one of the low end apartment complexes in the slums. He had JUST settled down to sleep when he got the call about a gang-related shooting. So taking some anti-psychaotics, Barlowe hopped in his car and drove to the scene which is where we are now. Making his way up some stairs and squeezing by the cops that went to and from the crime scene, when he got there he quickly took in the scene. It was fairly gruesome, visually. One of the younger and newer cops couldn't handle it and was throwing up into a waste basket nearby.

The Scene:

Barlowe frowned and tried to ignore the gruesome scene, which was sadly easier than one would like to think with what he's experienced during his service. The only body that really got to him was the one in the bathroom, and not the body alone but the whole visceral details of the bathroom reminded him of things that he would rather forget. "So what clues do we have? Any prints?" Barlowe questioned trying to get someone's attention.

"We do have some prints that we'll have to run. Some witness reports that were outside said that they saw an unmarked black van pull up before they went back inside," an officer said walking up to him. It figured, in this kind of neighborhood it was easy to figure out that a mysterious black van pulling up didn't mean anything good.

"What about voices?" Barlowe pressed on. Surely someone heard SOMETHING other than the gunshots.

"Yes, besides the Japanese, someone said they thought they heard some European sounding accents. Like Italian or something, their exact words," the same officer replied as Barlowe put on some gloves and checked the body against the wall just across from the door. He also took note of the bloodied shape close to it, which had been marked out. There was also a slight smear of blood on the victim's face. Only the marked shape on the carpet stood out at the moment, it implied that it had been there before they got here. It didn't make too much sense why it would be here, imagining how the scene played out it would be obvious that this person would be dead after getting through the door. "Also, the last victim in the bathroom seemed to have put up a fight- but with their missing hands and teeth we don't know if we'll get any usuable dna to identify a suspect," they continued.

Barlowe got to his feet and continued looking over the next body, noting the bloodied print again. This one was an obvious hand print, with another on the victim's face again. "Anyone here touch their faces with bloodied gloves?" Barlowe questioned out loud, getting a consecutive no from all of the officers.

"No, the blood was there when we got here. We believe the shooting was heard by another of their associates who got here before us," the officer that had been talking with him this whole time explained. That seemed to fit the odd placements of bloodied shoe and hand prints. Barlowe went back to the door, looking about the room as he tried to play out what he thought the scene played out. The door had been kicked down, the one directly across from it was immediately blasted by what he guessed to be a shotgun- there were multiple assailants he thought because the one to the side of the room upon seeing this would have leaped into action. A couple discarded pistols would confirm that the dead gang members weren't all in the same spot. Then the one in the bathroom had to have been shot, possibly grappled before being dragged into the bathroom before the horrible beating she got.

So then hearing the shots, their friends come to help but got here much too late where they probab;y checked for survivors before also getting out before he and the others got here. "Detective!" A voice called from outside. Barlowe followed where it came from to a pair of officers standing by a secluded area in the parking lot, standing over a weird 鬼 symbol encircled and drawn on the ground in what he assumed to be blood. "Any idea what this is?" One of the officers questioned before taking a picture of it.

"I don't speak or write Japanese," Barlowe replied simply, having a closer look at it and the place where it was found. It was beneath one of the stairs leading up, closest to the parking lot. There was also a barely visible trail of footprints, like the kind that are partially behind after you step into a puddle and start walking the water off little by little with each step. Other than that there wasn't anything else remarkable here. None of the witnesses probably saw who came and went, the stairs were tucked between the buildings in small corridors that you couldn't easily see into unless you either had binoculars looking from one of the opposite balconies, or were already standing at one of the entrances. Plus they had gone INSIDE once they saw the black van roll up. After trying to examine every nook and cranny, and after requestioning the witnesses he decided to call it a night... which meant he would be going back to work since by this time he'd getting up anyway.


3 days later...


Detective Barlowe felt like he was having a case of Deja Vu- except instead of a shitty apartment complex, he was now at one of the nicer, higher end clubs run by one of the local gangs- the mafia to be exact. "Right, what do we have this time?" Barlowe called out.

"Detective, uh... you don't wanna go in the back it's... a mess," an officer coming out of there said. He looked like he had just thrown up and was much paler than normal. Another officer approached him with a notepad.

"I... don't know what happened back there, haven't seen it but remember how no one knew who had come before us at that gang hit a few days ago?" The other officer asked checking over his notes. Barlowe nodded simply. "Well witnesses say that a biker had pulled up into the parking lot, walked straight to the door and got into it with the bouncer- slamming the back of his head into the door frame before continuing on inside. After that the security gets involved- y'know? Because this guy just knocked out the bouncer and all that. This Biker just... sends them flying in all directions, making a beeline toward the kitchen when mafia thugs come out to deal with him," The Officer starts to explain, gesturing toward the back- even from here Barlowe could make out a telling tale based on the blood pooling everywhre.

"The guy takes like, every bullet they shoot his way, and more or less just... DESTROYS them. Some say they saw him grab a chair and beat a guy to a pulp with it-" Barlowe raised a hand up to cut him off.

"Right, I can guess that he somehow singlehandedly laid waste to all of the mafia goons that attacked him. What did this guy look like?" Barlowe asked wanting to skip the play by play.

"Oh, right. Well, the guy never took his helmet off so no one got a look at his face- everyone was just assuming based on his build that it was a guy. All black leathers, complete with a jacket that had this symbol glowing on the back of it-" the officer paused to show him the 鬼 symbol. After doing some research, Barlowe finally managed to find out what it was. It was Kanji for Oni, a Japanese demon. Barlowe started toward the employee's only section, stopping to investigate the mess along the way. The officer with him on seeing it paled and faltered, hanging back as Barlowe gave them a look.

This was even worse:

Barlowe pressed the back of his hand against his mouth and felt nausea creeping up on him.

Barlowe started getting some flashbacks, one hand shaking as he thought he heard a familiar giggling. It was soft, barely a whisper but started to grow louder as he walked about the scene. Apparently it hadn't gone unnoticed, as someone touched him on the arm to get his attention before recoiling. Barlowe had spun around with a clenched fist, catching himself at the last moment and stopping. "Whoa! Detective you alright?" One officer asked warily. Barlowe steadied himself and started taking some deep breaths, With alittle effort, the giggling started to die down until he felt like... well not normal but nothing about what he was doing here was normal.

"Is there- is there anything else? Please tell me there's something concrete we can use to find this bastard?" Barlowe asked, dreading the answer.

"Well the place is rigged with cameras... but I-I don't think you want to see what'they saw right now Detective," the officer offered with concern. "There IS one other thing down in the basement, where the heater and some sewage pipes are. I also don't recommend going down there right now either," they added hesitantly. Barlowe looked over and noticed that officers going in and out of the stairs down had masks. He was definitely not feeling up to going down there.

Barlowe waved him off and stubbornly started that way. It was his job, and regardless of what awaited him he had to try and stomach whatever it was. Getting a mask from an officer, he headed down- already mentally dreading what might be waiting for him down here. What he found was

probably the most disgusting thing he'd seen in his career or service.:

Instead he looked around the room, noticing that a wireless camera had been placed on one of the shelves of an opened utility cabinet. Did... did they film this? What kind of sick, demented psycho would- nevermind.

Barlowe had seen enough for one sitting. It was easy with the witness testimonies to piece together this disgusting mess. Some of the members of this new gang crossed the line with The Mafia who in return retalliated to send a message. And this new gang- or atleast THIS particular member of the gang exacted vengeance in return. Their message was also pretty straight forward: eat shit and die. Based on what he had been told, the attacker was clearly some kind of metahuman and that meant they were VERY dangerous. Barlowe felt the world twisting slightly around him again, almost fading away completely before he snapped out of it. "I've seen enough for tonight... I'll- I'll go over everything later down at the station," he excused himself, hurrying up the stairs.

For a moment, the doorway and a light at the top just outside of it looked like an eye and a gaping maw. Only for a moment as he pushed on, swearing he saw... shadowry shapes picking at the bodies of the dead bodies. They reminded him of the shadow ninja he was trying to investigate as he walked by, ignoring their amber colored eyes looking back at him as he made a beeline for his car. He neeeded an extra dose of his anti-psychaotics, which is the first thing he fished out and downed with some water. Barlowe waited in his car for a moment, trying to calm himself down when someone tapped at his window and startled him. "Sorry Detective you alright?" One of the othe detectives asked with concern.

"I didn't need to sleep this week anyway. What do you need Davis?" Barlowe deadpanned in a poor attempt at humor, he just didn't have it in him to make the effort.

"Wanted to catch you before you went over something one of the staff told me about one of the... uh one of the victims. Apparently the poor bastard in the basement worked closely with the owner or something so he was there almost all of the time. Was real jumpy lately it sounds like, claimed he was hearing things at night, felt like he was being watched all the time or was seeing eyes watching him from the dark. Felt like SOMETHING was gonna come for him, so he hid here at the club where he thought it was safe. Looks like even with armed guards he wasn't," Davis explained to him. That WAS interesting to hear. Based on the scene a few days ago, the fact HE personally felt like he was being hunted. "That's all, if I find anything else out I'll have it on your desk," Davis added sympathetically.

But these guys weren't known for breaking down so easily in their line of work. Hell they practically invented the phrase "cement shoes." But this went far beyond that. Somehow, this guy KNEW without a shadow of a doubt that something was coming for him, only to be proven right. HOW and WHY did he know? He was just driving out of the parking lot when his radio started going off, calling for police to another crime scene- another homicide. Barlowe had the strangest feeling that it was going to be a long night and like the dead guy in the club basement, he too had been proven right as he found a similar scene. THIS one however led him to one of the nicer apartments of the slums- still not the finest looking place but it was on mafia turf and still nicer than most of the places around here. To make a long gruesome story short, he found two more bodies that looked like Jack The Ripper had paid them a visit. Barlowe learned it was the same psycho but nut much else. No doubt he wasn't going to sleep any time soon, and cops would be searching high and low for him atleast until morning. There was no way this was going to blow over, there would be more blood unless he could find a way to stop this soon...