Bloodletting at Bathory Row

[Author's Note: This mystery is still under construction, but is designed for Story Mode. Some clues found in scenes will unlock other scenes. When complete, I will change this note. Any playtesting in Story Mode and correspondence through private messages would be appreciated.]

I'm sitting in the corner of this all-night diner, the red vinyl of the booth as familiar to me as my old Colt .45. The smell of burnt coffee and frying grease fills the air, and I take a slow sip from my cup, savoring the bitterness. The waitress brings over my eggs over easy, and I dig in, my mind drifting to the case I just wrapped up, some missing girls in the city.

A group of college students, dressed in the usual plaid and skinny jeans, sits a few tables over, their voices mingling with the clatter of dishes and the low hum of the kitchen. "...and then they found her, in her dorm room. All alone, and the note she left, just said, 'I can't take it anymore.' Scary, huh?" one of them says.

The others murmur in agreement, and I lean in, listening closer. "My cousin goes to Williams Women's College, and there've been like, four other suicides this semester. It's creepy, right?" the girl continues. I chew slowly, my ears perked. My spider-senses start to tingle, and I finish my food in record time, my mind already racing.

"Maybe it's the stress of exams, or a cult or something, who knows?" another student chimes in. "But it's just so sad. And what if it's something more than that?" I leave a few bills on the table, a generous tip for the waitress, and I make my way towards the group of students.

They notice me, the young men's eyes immediately darting up and down my body, while the girls' lips press into thin lines. Such is the curse that my allure brings. "Excuse me," I say, my tone a smooth blend of gravel and honey. "Overheard a rather troubling conversation. Can you tell me more about the suicides at Williams Women's College?"

The students exchange a quick glance, unsure about how much to share. "Um, well, they all happened in the dorms," one of the girls begins, her voice laced with caution. "All of the girls were found with their wrists slit in the bathtubs." The group exchanges nervous glances, unsure about this stranger.

I give them a smile, hopefully more reassuring than ominous. "It's just fucking creepy," one of the guys adds, shaking his head. "The dean of the university's been keeping it pretty hush-hush. They're trying to make it seem like a fluke or something." I nod slowly, taking in the information, and I can't help but feel a flicker of unease.

"Can't say as I blame them for that," I reply, my eyes fixed on the group, sizing them up. "But if the suicides aren't random, it could pose a threat to the entire student body. What other details can you share with me, anything odd or strange you might've heard?"One thing is certain: I won't let the darkness win.

"Not much, really," the girl replies, chewing her lip. "Some students have complained about hearing whispers at night, and feeling like they're being watched. But that could just be a product of their overactive imaginations," the guy offers, his tone dismissive. I intend to find out the truth about these suicides, and if the dark is at play, I'll put an end to it.

I leave the diner, my mind already in overdrive, and head to my old Ford. A string of suicides, all at the same college? Something tells me there's more to it than meets the eye. Is there a malevolent spirit preying on the girls? Or a cult, luring them into darkness with promises of power and freedom from their mortal shackles?

I slide behind the wheel and crank the engine, the tires spitting gravel as I pull out. As the road unfolds before me, I put the pedal to the metal, ready to head to Williams Women's College and get to the bottom of this. My life may be a tangled knot of sins and regrets, but I won't let the darkness consume me or the innocent souls it preys upon.