A Felicity Black Mystery

A Felicity Black Mystery
I stood in the one dark corner on the street and took a long drag from my cigarette. I stood and watched as I saw green, purple, slimy, shiny, and scary, things and people pass me. Quick glances like knives, “Haven’t you ever seen a shifter before?” I mumbled under my breath.
I’m Felicity Black, shape shifter, part time bounty hunter, and full time freak, and sometimes not the nicest of people.
A mother with green hair, and purple skin risked a glance at me. Her eyes were black almost as weird as mine, almost. Prancing along, jubilantly beside her was a child that was identical to the mother. She stopped dead in her tracks. She hesitantly dragged her eyes up to meet mine. I couldn’t blame her jaw that now was on the floor. I would have done the same thing if I saw me. 6’2 which is enough to intimidate anyone (including dates). All 6 feet and 2 inches of me, covered chin to toe with my black trench coat, big bad combat boots covered my feet (and added another inch). Then there was my punch line, the creepy of the creepy, my eyes.
The kid burst into tears, screaming and clutching to her mother who now looked up at me disapprovingly and quickly walked away, never looking back.
“No don’t worry about it. It happens all the time,” I said sarcastically to myself, taking another bitter drag of my cigarette.
I glanced at my watch, where is Vince? I “work” for “Johnn private eyes”. Aka I’m a bounty hunter, and I hunt down people for wads of cash. It’s not that fun of a job, I’ve been shot at too many times to remember, but it pays the bills.
“Speak of the devil,” I muttered to myself as I threw my now spent cigarette down and stomped on it with my size 12 boot. I glanced back up.
Johnny’s is one of the rare shape shifters who have made a “human” name for himself. About seven years ago the United States of America had officially accepted witches, weres, vamps, shifters, and all other creepy creatures. Thought to be fiction in a book written by a mad man on opium. We now have rights and live happily ever after, not quite. Though accepted by the United States, my kind have not been accepted by society. No one wants the ogey bogey man, or the thing that goes “Bump” in the night to live next-door.
We’ve made a place for ourselves though, a little slum called Hollow’s Eve where you can find the weirdest of the weird, and the creepiest of the creepy. All living in harmony, most of the time at least.
Johnny was now in “business” form, which for him seemed to be a wanna be mafia boss. Black slicked back Dracula hair, black Versace suite, and the most blinding black shoes; it hurt to look at him, and not only because of the shoes.
“Hello Felicity, how are you?” he asked hesitantly.
“Who do I have to hunt down?” I don’t like small talk it takes too long and is a waste of valuable and expensive time.
“Well, you know Felicity, I would love to sit and chit chat, but I really have to get to business,” he sneered sarcastically. “And besides you don’t mean person, you mean thing!”
I was going to take my newly lit cigarette and shove it into Vince’s eye. “Johnny,” I managed through clinched teeth, “You know I don’t find THINGS, I find people!”
I can not onely shift to any form I can hear peoples thoughts. Well it’s a little more complicated, but basically I’m a search and rescue dog, without the rescue (usually). I can hold something of someone’s and instantly have a psychic connection with them, and usually find where they are by picking through their thoughts. How am I supposed to find an object? Objects don’t have thoughts if you didn’t already know that.
“I know, I know, but Felicity, he’s paying five times the usual fee! Also he’s Arthur Banks.”Johnny squealed with glee, like a little school girl.
Don’t let the name fool you Arthur Banks is the second biggest and strongest vamp in the United States. The first biggest vamp though is Victor Poe. Coincidentally both reside in our humble little community of Hollow’s Eve.
“It should be easy! You just have to get a goblet or something. Here, this is the file. I have to go now!” Johnny shoved the bulging folder into my hands, and was gone.
“What if I don’t want it?” I asked the now empty street.
“Not even you would turn down one million dollars, unless all your cigarettes have killed too any of your brain cells,” answered a voice that belonged to a still transparent Johnny.
I glared at the general direction of the voice, and lit up once again realizing my other cig had burned itself out. “This is going to be a long night,” I mumbled to my cigarette as I looked down at the bulging folder in my hands. I was working for a ridiculously powerful vamp and had to find an OBJECT that may or not exist, with no help form my “gift”. “This is going to be a long year,” I sighted once again and started to walk home.