Log edited with Logedit 2.6.6pl on Fri Jul 31 16:25:06 EDT 1998

Using configuration file /turquoise/homes/ammer/.logeditrc Editing out: arrive/left ANSI tf-messages Regexp stripping: Queue, Semaphore, ^Huh\? +Type, ^I don't see that Word-wrapping at 72, 0, 2 Statistics at end of log -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Elan is at a junction in the sewers, having just met up with Hank. He shakes his head. "Only a couple more tunnels to go. You ain't seen anything on your sweeps, dude?"

Hank shakes his head. "Not where I've checked so far."

Elan grimaces. "OK, let's go on down this one here." He begins to move down the tunnel, glancing about and keeping alert. He motions for Hank to follow.

Hank nods, following close behind Elan. He keeps an eye out the way they came - just in case.

Elan contorts and blurs as he is transformed.

Elan sparkles and blurs, shifting into Glabro form.

The tunnel slopes downward, the everpresent stench of hydrogen sulfide growing stronger--but not yet disappeared, which is the real danger sign. Water splashes around the ankles of the Gnawer packmates, then the sound softens to the swoosh of displaced water from wading. Hank stumbles, tripping over something under the water.

Elan shifts up, the better to move the occassional obstruction.

Hank windmills his arms, to keep his balance, then glances down to see what he tripped over.

Elan looks back, anxious. "Whatcha got there?" he growls. He moves back to his packmate, and looks down.

A bloated white hand surfaces and falls back to barely below the surface, as if the dead were gesturing Hank to join him. In the near-darkness of the tunnel, even with eyes long-adjusted to the lack of light, nothing beyond the top three twisted and bloated fingers can be seen.

Hank's eyes widen. "SHIT!"

Elan nods silently, and reaches for the flashlight clipped to his belt. "Light," he says, signalling to look away so they won't be blinded. Once it's on, he turns back to look at the bobbing corpse.

Hank turns his head back after he's used to the light, and stares at the corpse.

Even with precaution, the light makes for watering eyes for the first few minutes--the adjustment to see by the distant service lights has its price. Still, the dead isn't going anywhere. After the tears clear, the top part of his hand is visible, purplish and red where the skin is beginning to slough off the muscle and bone. Two fingers are twisted unnaturally to one side, indicating broken bones. The light glares on the dirty brown water, but there is a shadow under its scummy surface.

Elan winces and reaches under the man, trying to use his greater strength to lever the man (?) up without causeing bloated, waterlogged flesh to tear too much. He looks into the face, studying it.

Hank moves up, reaching to hold the light for Elan.

As the body surfaces, something heavy shifts and tears under the surface. The sound is a wet, muffled thump. Thick plastic--apparently some sort of bag--is this nameless body's shroud in his ignoble grave. The light picks up the shadow of dark hair in the plastic, but no color of clothing.

Hank shakes his head. "Hell...any idea who?"

Elan growls softly. "Damn. This looks professional. Suffocate him, then dump him." He looks to Hank. "Not until I can get this off, buddy..." He tries to move the corpse so that it is at least partially supported by the ledge running down one side of the sewer tunnel. He flicks out his knife and begins to cut off the bag. "OK, m'friend...let's see who you are."

Hank nods, grimacing, holding the light steady for Elan.

The bag is tough but not against the edge of a knife; the thick plastic takes some sawing, but it peels away to expose the staring brown eyes of a young man that might have been in his late teens or early twenties. At least, it's possible from the color of the greasy black hair and the fact that, despite being rotted looking, he still has teeth. His face is mottled with bruises, and one eye is deflated, the lid drooping without a quiver of life. The nose is swollen and looks slightly crooked; water gushes from the nose when the body is lifted higher against the wall. Cause of death seems not to have been suffocation, though. Naked fish-white and purple-black skin where a shirt would be makes it easy to see the second smile beneath the chin. Bone shows where the cut opened through the windpipe, as well as the soft tissue.

Hank growls. "Hell...."

Elan looks the corpse over, frowning.

Elan points to the cut throat. "Hank? That hooker I told you about: Honey. She had her throat cut the same way when I found her. Same stroke like that, see..." He traces a finger above the gaping cut. "Deep, then shallow here. She wasn't in no bag, but.." He shakes his head. "I don't know this kid from Adam. Maybe he's one of the rent boys over on Chapel Street?"

Hank frowns. "Dunno. I can ask around, see if anybody's missing....."

Elan says "So far, Honey, Hellcat and Mary -- all Joe's girls -- are the ones been getting slicked. I dunno if ol' Joe's turned to boys or not, but it ain't his style. He don't look familiar.""

Hank grimaces. "Guy's branchin' out, maybe?"

Elan shakes his head. "Or our killer is." He looks up and grins to Hank. "Man, I been reading too many damn comics, talkin' like that." He grows serious again. "Let's heft him up,and take a closer look." He moves to lift the man up, his much greater strength in this form a help.

Hank nods, stepping closer to help Elan, though he grimaces at the nearness. "Poor bastard..."

It's hard for anything to smell worse than the rotting sulfide stench of the sewers, but the body makes an attempt. As the body is brought out of the water and partly out of the bag, bits of flesh smear on Elan. Where Honey was merely bruised and beaten in many places, this young man is marked with welps and cuts. He's missing his right nipple--though it might be in the bag, or floated away.

Elan licks his lips in concentration as he looks over the boy's ruined flesh. "Fuck, man...this looks a little familiar. Lemme think..." He shakes his head. "Coul;d have been smoebody being questioned. But it also could be torture. Like, sex play stuff." He glances to Hank. "'member what I told ya about my Rite of Passage? And some of the stuff I saw when I was back in SanFran? This ain't too different. Might be wrong, but it's something to look into."

Hank frowns, and nods. "YEah....first thing t' do, see if anybody's missing."

Elan says "Second thing, put this where a sewer crew can find it and the rats /can't/, and tip off Jeremy. I'd love to know this guy's name, and where the hell he came into this. But...fuck, I don't want any police involved. And a fingerprinting, or autopsy will do that." He sighs, looking at the young man's ruined body. "Damned if this shit is gonna continue in our territory..""

Hank nods, looking grim. "We ARE gonna find who's doin' this shit. An' he's gonna regret it."

Elan stares at the face a long time, fixing it in his memory, and trying to think of how he must have looked alive.

Hank holds the light steady for Elan, regarding the dead man's face as well. When it looks like Elan's done, he shifts up to glabro to help.

Elan says "OK, let's get this guy someplace better than this, then scurry back. Third shift tunnel inspectors should be by in about three hours."

Hank nods, moving in to help take up his share of the load. "Yeah..."

With both in glabro form, the body can be hauled to the noted place. Pulling it from the water causes more ripping in the plastic, and Elan especially has putrid little pieces clinging to him now. Otherwise, the tunnels are dead silent other than the noises of the Gnawers' efforts.

Elan moves the boy down and to the side of one tunnel, close to one of the inspection points. He moves the legs a bit, so it looks like they wedged here, from moving down the tunnel naturally. He takes a moment to trace a sign on the young man's forehead, and closes the putrid eyes, if he can. A prayer of peace for his soul, and freedom from any harm in the underworld.

Hank watches quietly, bowing his head a little.

The deflated eye refuses to close properly, and the lids both feel slick and slimy. But at least his lost gaze no longer stares into the dark waters as the Gnawers prepare to leave.

Elan looks to Hank. "Let's go back and check that spot one more time, see if they dropped anything. The way he was pinned, they did that specific, to keep him from floating away or being seen. I wonder..."

Hank nods. "Right behind ya."

Elan moves back towards the area they first ran across the corpse, and begin to search the area amore thuroughly, looking for maybe anything dropped, or maybe a pre-prepared tie-down point for the body.

Hank goes over to the other side of the area, and searches it as he walks back towards Elan.

The search turns up two bricks, normal red-brick like used in house construction. It also turns up less benign debris, including bits of rotting material and (for the lucky Hank) a used condom.

Elan stands back and hmmm's. "OK, I guess we're done. I'm gonna talk to Jer, and see what he can do and what he can keep quiet." He turns to Hank. "Let's go, dude, and find some clean water."

Hank nods. "Amen t' that....gah..."

Elan takes the cloth and condem, and slips the bits into a plastic zip-loc he pulls from a belt-pouch. "Maybe he can use this, maybe he can't. Hell, we'll find out. Man, I wish I knew some way of questioing someone's ghost."

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