The body of the most recent victim was horribly maimed. My gorge rose just looking at it and the smell was horrendous. A mix between the sterile hospital smell and a septic tank. The level of detail in this game was gross. It would definitely draw the realism fanatics, but once they started playing I can’t imagine people would want this level of gore.

When the curate had led me to this small bakery, I had been expecting a dead body. I had not been expecting a horror show. The lower half of the man’s face and most of his torso had been melted. Blood and dissolved goop covered most of the floor and the chair the corpse was tied to.

“Jesus Christ,” a voice said from behind me. I turned around, surprised that the police officers at the door had let someone else in. At the doorway stood a younger man, probably in his low thirties. “That is absolutely foul,” he said, pulling his shirt over his nose. He had a British accent, but I couldn’t tell what dialect.

“No kidding,” I said. I walked over to the man and offered my hand. “Inquisitor George Silver at your service.”

“Inspector Ajax, real name’s Bill though,” he said, shaking my hand. “I don’t think we have met yet. I just started last week.”

“Oh, right… my real name is Will,” I said. I had not even realized he was a player and not an NPC. In most games players would have their names displayed over their heads, but it looked like Victoria Online didn’t follow that trend. “And I only started like two weeks ago. The only tester I have said more than two words to is Jim.”

Ajax’s eyes lit up and he smiled broadly. “I would have been completely lost without Jim. He’s totally mad, but a great guy.”

I laughed and nodded my head in agreement. My cubicle neighbor had that effect on people. His manic energy and positive outlook made him more than a little quirky, but in a good way.

“Anyway” Ajax continued. “The hell is going on here?” He said, gesturing at the melted corpse.

“The Decoction Killer strikes again,” I said in my best radio play voice.

“Do you have the quest to take him down too?” Ajax asked, surprised.

“Yeah, my main quest is to bring him to justice. I guess it makes sense that both the Church and the Government want to bring down the serial killer.”

“I suppose that makes us partners,” Ajax said. Holding his fist up for me to knock.

I gave him a fist bump and smiled. “Ajax and Silver vs. the face melting murderer.”

“I guess we should look around for clues,” Ajax said dubiously. “I think I should get some skills that help with that, but we don’t get our skill trees till level two.”

“Yeah?” I asked, excited. “How did you find that out?”

“The Assistant Commissioner had a chart, it shows what we get at each level. Here, I should be able to copy it from my journal to yours.”

After a bit of finagling, Ajax handed me my journal back with a new chart in the character section. It was fairly basic, showing that we got new proficiencies every odd level, and new skills every even level.

While I was looking it over, Ajax started checking the small room for clues. I put my journal away, knowing I should probably help look. Not that I knew how to canvass a crime scene. All my experience came from cop dramas.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. I turned to the small window that looked out onto the alleyway between stores. The face of a young boy filled the small pane, staring at the carnage in horror. The kid’s green eyes widened when they met my gaze. Then he ran, sprinting down the alley.

So I did what anyone would do. I chased. I was out the door before Ajax had even realized I was leaving. I burst onto the street, rounded the corner, and hauled ass. The runner had a significant lead, but I was fast. Apparently 10 dexterity translates to one hell of a sprint speed.

He dived left down another alley. I was going too fast to make the turn. I skidded to a halt and hurried to catch up. The kid was already at the end of the alley and scrambling under a rotted section of fencing. My breath was coming in puffs as I pulled every drop of speed I could from my legs. As I approached the eight foot wooden fence, I didn’t even slow down.

I jumped as high as I could, grabbing the top of the fence, and pulled up as I swung my legs over. I wouldn’t have been strong, fast, or coordinated enough to pull off the jump in real life, but Inquisitor George Silver was a badass.

I hit the ground hard and rolled to lessen the impact. A bit disoriented, I frantically looked around. The runner was shimmying up a drain pipe on the side of a building. I darted after him. I jumped and kicked off the wall, reaching up to catch my target.

I got a firm grip around his belt and grinned in triumph. Then gravity took back over and dragged me to the ground. The boy’s grip on the pipe wasn’t strong enough to support both our weights, and he was dragged down with me.

Unfortunately for me, the boy landed on top. The force of the impact drove the breath from my lungs and I gasped desperately for air. The kid tried to use my distraction to escape, but I had a deathgrip on his belt. There was no way I was going to let him go after all that.

“Let me go!” The kid shouted. “Why are you chasing me? I didn't do nothin.”

“Why did you run then?” I gasped out, awkwardly scrambling to my feet.

“Cus you chased me,” the boy whined.

“Bullshit, what do you know about the murder back there?” I asked.

“Nothing, I was just walking,” he said.

I glared down at the kid, but deflated a bit when he flinched away from me. “Listen, what’s your name?”

“Roach,” the kid said defiantly.

“Listen Roach, I don’t want to haul you to jail, but I will if you force me to. Now, I will ask again, what do you know about what happened back in that shop?” I said, trying to keep my tone reasonable but firm.

“I don’t know nothing about the murder.” I scowled down at the boy, starting to lose my patience. “But..but, I knew the bloke. I mean, b’fore he was corpsed. That’s why I stopped. I couldn't believe he got got.”

“What was his name?” I asked calmly. Now that he was talking, I didn’t want to scare him back into silence.

“Folk called him Slinger. He was part of the Greys.”

“Who are the Greys?” I asked. Slinger had to be the worst name I had ever heard.

“One of the major gangs. They run most of the drugs,” the kid said, glancing around as he spoke.

“And where can I find them?” I asked. Looks like I had a lead. The boy looked at me like I was crazy, but answered.

“East London. They ‘ave a warehouse there.”

“Can you show me on this map?” I asked, flipping to the map that was integrated into my journal.

“I guess,” the boy said, pointing to an area towards the eastern edge of my map just north of the river.

“And what gang are you part of Roach?” I asked, playing a hunch.

“I aint part of no gang sir,” he said, looking up at me with wide innocent eyes.

“Oh, of course,” I said, my voice thick with sarcasm. “You must have just come from your private tutor. Though your carriage driver must be sick so you were forced to walk home. It was terribly rude of me to abscond such a noble gentleman such as yourself, Mr. Roach. I am sure you recognized a murdered gang member because he often visited your father’s dinner parties.”

“Yeah, yeah, no need to be a cock about it,” Roach said, dropping the innocent act. “Me and the lads are no proper gang though. The River Rats, that’s us, do a bit of purse collecting here and there, but it is mostly toshing and corpse fishing. We just look out for each other, we don’t hurt nobody.”

“What the hell is toshing and corpse fishing?” I asked, bewildered.

“Lots of zeds fall into the river from the dead city. Some of em still have coin or jewelry, so we fish em out. Got to carry a cudgel with you though. The river doesn't always finish with the re-deading. It’s no big deal though, just have to remember. Want a zed dead, go for the head.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. See you later Roach,” I said as I stepped away from the boy.

“Not if I can help it,” Roach muttered as he took off.

Shaking my head, I started walking back to the bakery. I needed to talk to Ajax about what I learned from the pickpocket. If the other victims were criminals too, maybe the killer was some sort of insane vigilante? Or maybe a member of a rival gang? I just didn’t know enough about the previous murders to infer a pattern.

I was almost back to the shop when my vision began to swim. The colors of the street grew to a vibrant neon, and my balance grew wobbly. I drunkenly stumbled to a nearby wall and leaned against it for support.

I blinked as blood dripped from my nose onto the ground inches from my face. It hurt. Stupid ground, hitting my face like that. I closed my eyes….