by David Morgan
Dex was on guard. Was it too late? He thought, perhaps, he might already be wandering into a trap—that she had already gotten to this one.
The degree of filth was a usual symptom of these types, and he’d been exposed to it more than his fair share. Still, no matter how many basements he’d entered, he could never get used to it. It would drive a normal man insane and yet these individuals not only survived it, but made their home in it.
Edwin sat down in an easy chair, regaining control of his breathing and motioning to another chair across from his own.
He had been found out. Who was it? How much had he taken from them? Was it one of the romance scams? Had they traced the Bitcoins? He scanned his memory as best he could, attempting to assess the worst-case scenario and then play it to his advantage.
“How did you find me?” If he could take control of the conversation, he might learn more about the invader and think up a way out of this.
“I found your Facebook chat with her.” Dex answered.
“With who?”
“Milady.”
“Who?” Surely Edwin called lots of girls that. Who was he referring to?
“I need to know if you’ve had any other contact with her besides through Facebook.”
“How did you locate me here?”
“It’s extremely important—I must find her.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about. How did you locate my home?”
“It’s not hard, you dumb shit.” Dex had little patience to begin with, and he couldn’t tolerate fat, smug little hackers trying to push him around.
“Your internet dialect is easy to track and you drop hints throughout every post, tweet, and comment you make. I used your Facebook profile to trace you to Reddit and twitter and put it together. I reverse-imaged your photos to determine your locations and then cross-referenced your social site histories. Now shut up and answer my questions.”
Edwin shut his mouth, relieved that this was apparently not any of the people whom he had screwed over, but furious that he’d been taken advantage of like this.
“Her name—as you spoke to her—was Daria.”
“Rings a bell,” now feeling out of the way of immediate harm, Edwin again embraced his previous, smug tone.
“You spoke to her on Facebook. What do you know about her?”
“That was the only conversation I had with her. Why? What’s this all about?” Edwin grew excited at the thought of a delicious, young girl being in the center of the intrigue.
“She is extremely dangerous and I must find her. Her name is not Daria—she has gone by other names: Darlene, Dasha, Devon, even ‘Damsel’. She lures unsuspecting men, enslaving them or killing them outright—and I believe you are her next victim.”
Edwin sat up in surprise. “Devon?” he asked with sudden interest, adjusting himself in his seat. His eyes brightened and he sat quietly, pondering what he should or shouldn’t reveal to this intruder.
“This Daria,” He began, “we had only one conversation on Facebook, and she left it abruptly. The next time I checked her profile, it had been deleted—but I received a message from a new one, directing me to her OKCupid profile.”
“What is her profile name there?”
“I don’t know—it’s since been deleted.”
“Where is she located currently?”
“Look, I don’t know! We flirted for a little bit online, talked about Manga—we set a date but she never showed. When I went on to ask her what happened, the profile had been deleted.” And then he added, “Typical bitch. I don’t care…Good riddance, I say. Doesn’t know a good guy when she sees him.”
“You will take me to the place that you agreed to meet. Did you suggest it, or did she?”
“I did. And who are you, by the way? And what do you want with this girl?”
“My name is Dex, and my mission is Daki--” he stopped, “that girl is my mission. You will tell me everything you know and take me to her.”
“You won’t find anything at the bar.” Edwin had decided to cooperate. “It’s just a bar—and I suggested it.”
“But she agreed—it means that she’s close.”
“Maybe—but I can take you to a place where you can get real answers. The security is tight, but they’re not afraid of the dark, if you understand me.”
“Where?”
“If any kind of darkness is spreading—He knows it. Because in this place—in his place, they talk, they infiltrate, and they collaborate.” As he spoke, Edwin got up and walked to an old bureau where, with a little force, he shuffled and pulled open a large, stubborn drawer.
“Who?” Dex unfastened the small leather pouch at his side and withdrew a red pill, popping it into his mouth.
“They call him, Palantir.” Edwin asked.
“And this place--It’s a place where secrets are told…for a price.” He continued, emptying bundles of clothes and leather onto the ground, the metal bits rattling to the floor.
“You’ll take me there.” Dex demanded.
“We’ll go—but you’ll need to look the part if you want to learn anything.” He stood back, sizing Dex up, analyzing the black leather trench coat, the fingerless gloves, and the samurai sword at his side.
He tossed a bundle of clothing and a pair of leather gauntlets to Dex.
“You’ll need to lose the fedora.” He decided.
“No I don’t.” He corrected as he fastened the leather gauntlets around each forearm.