Club Claw Prologue: (Patreon)

Concrete jungle painted by neon light, sky scrapers reaching as far as the dark smog that hung over the city, rain pelting the large open window nearby, how long had it been? three days? perhaps four, it was all a blur, the walls surrounding becoming too familiar, claustrophobic and closing in, the screams still rang prominently in her ears, body aching from blurred memories.

What had happened? what caused the sudden loss of control? although washed, the blood stains still vividly painted her hands, the guilt a heavy weight resting on small petite shoulders, bones burned from the change, jaw numb and throat raw, couldn't remember anything...

It was on that night that the hallways of the complex building rang out with the sound of panic and fear, terror stricken occupants running for their lives, the resonating cry of something not human bouncing from the walls.

A moment to gather thoughts, eyes closing and squeezing tightly as hands gripped at a partially shaven head, the ground was still littered with the scraps of clothing, limbs now half rotten scattered across the crimson soaked carpet.

The authorities had been baffled, the majority of the apartments now off limits with yellow and black flimsy tape, the building practically barren, those who had not been involved had long since fled the chaos and destruction, the massacre of innocents, witnesses in custody or innocents swamped with media, it was painted across every single screen in Nevada City.

She rose from the bed on which she had sat for hours now, lips dry and cracked, a short treck to the small bathroom located in the corner, glass filled with water and necked down a parched throat, her reflection seemed almost alien, staring at dark brown eyes knowing that the beast resided somewhere within, waiting for the next opportunity to break free, lurking in the darkness of her veins.

A moment of recollection, an attempt to figure out prevention, a flash back of searing pain, snapping bones and shredding clothes, the power that came with it, how it burned every single inch of her body, how many more lives were going to find their resting place on her conscience? there had to be a way, some work around that her de-railed train of thoughts were simply not settling on.

The eyes that were fixed on reflection shifted back to her hands, nails not claws, a single digit poked at upper lip, teeth not fangs, this hadn't been the first time the change had happened, but it had been the first since moving to the city, no confines and no one to help keep control or containment, perhaps she should return to the facility? no, there was nothing there for her now other than a prison, a fist clenched, white knuckles forming.

There had to be someway to approach this, something that would make logical sense, perhaps approaching it with the wrong mind set, this after all was a gift that had been given, that she could bestow onto others, the internal conflict only escalated, morals screaming back against the voice inside her head, she needed to look for answers, a purpose, solve this lost fleeting feeling that she felt so deeply.

Squeezing both eyes together, Rancid turned away from the mirror, leaving the coolness of the washroom in order to grab the neon piped jacket nearby and wrap it around her shoulders, she paused at the doorway, taking one last look at her current residence, no doubt the police would be here soon, they'd find the evidence but by then she would be long gone into the depths of the city, the door behind was slid open, stepping out into the claw mark painted corridor and headed out of the building, not looking back, it was time for a new start and a real change to come...