Nightside 02 - Agents of Light and Darkness

was a mess. Every stick of furniture had been wrecked or overturned, and in some cases reduced to little more than kindling. The expensive carpeting had been torn and rucked up, as though whole armies had trampled across it. There were signs of bullet and bomb damage on some of the walls, and a tall potted plant in the corner had been pretty much shredded. The sheer extent of the destruction might almost have been funny, if it hadn’t been for the blood. There was spilled blood everywhere, gallons of it. The torn carpeting was soaked from wall to wall, most of still so wet it squelched under our feet. There was more blood splashed across the walls, in thick red swatches and spatters, and the occasional handprint. It dripped from the shattered furniture, and from a wide wet stain on the ceiling. I didn’t even want to think about what could have caused blood to jet almost a dozen feet into the air. I stepped around the dripping ceiling and advanced slowly across the lobby. I glanced at Suzie.
    “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you’d been here.”
    She sniffed unhappily. “No, this is Razor Eddie’s work. I’m a professional, he’s … enthusiastic. You know what worries me the most about this? Lots of blood … but no bodies. What the hell has he done with the bodies? And what’s with all this religious stuff on the walls?”
    She gestured at the paintings hanging crookedly on the walls. They all depicted extremely detailed scenes from the deaths of Christian martyrs, with the emphasis very much on blood and gore and suffering. There were large crucifixes too. Extremely graphic crucifixes. And there were signs in ugly block lettering; Pray for mercy while you still can. Every day, God is judging you. No mercy for the ungodly. The Church’s way is the only way. Have you killed an unbeliever today ?
    “Hard-core,” said Suzie.
    “None of that was here the last time I had occasion to have words with Big Sergei,” I said. “He believed in profits, not prophets. I can only assume that the Warriors of the Cross wanted to buy so much from him that it was easier for him to rent them the whole warehouse, for as long as they were here. And they … made themselves at home. Just how many guns were the Warriors buying, I wonder?”
    Suzie scowled. “Didn’t he realize they were planning an invasion of the Nightside?”
    I shrugged. “If he had, he wouldn’t have cared. As long as they paid in advance. Someone was going to make a profit anyway, so why not him?” I looked around at all the blood and destruction. “The Unholy Grail has a lot to answer for. Jude said it attracted evil.”
    Suzie looked at me. “Jude?”
    “Our client.”
    “Oh yeah. So much has happened, I’d almost forgotten about him. So, where do we go now, Taylor?”
    “I think I may have spotted a clue,” I said. She looked where I pointed. By a door marked stairs, someone had drawn a large arrow, painted in blood. “The stairs lead up to the offices on the third floor. We’d better get a move on. Razor Eddie’s waiting for us.”
    “Wonderful,” said Suzie.
    We made our way up the stairs, following bloody arrows on the walls. Suzie took the lead with gun at the ready, checking every shadowed corner before she committed herself. There were no nasty surprises, only more damage and even more blood. A hell of a lot of people had to have died here, and recently, given how wet the blood still was. But there was never any sign of a body. The smeared scarlet arrows eventually led us to a small office at the back of the third floor. The door had been kicked in and was hanging drunkenly from one hinge. Suzie and I ducked past it, into the office. The cheap but practical furniture was still intact, but there was a long splash of blood across one wall. Not far away, there was a wall safe, with its heavy steel door torn away and left discarded on the floor. And sitting behind the office desk, slowly working his way through a pile of papers he’d taken from the safe, was Razor Eddie. He didn’t look up as we came in.
    “Hello, John. Suzie. Come on in. Make yourselves at home. Be with you in a minute.”
    Suzie headed straight for the open safe, grinned widely on finding it still packed with bundles of cash, and immediately set about transferring as many of them as she could into the many pockets of her leather jacket. Suzie had always been a deeply practical person.
    The Punk God of the Straight Razor looked much the same as always,