It was a dark and stormy night. Ha, as if. Its never really sunny either in this dark morbid noire land. Cities flying on chunks of floating cement, soaring high in a shadowy levitated state. Nothing exists outside the stone walls of these cities that bar communication between each of the high flying civilisations. Though, creatures of the dark live outside. Creatures of fierce monstrosity, silver daggers that shine in the palest light, flayed skin adorning each ridge and crevice and the eyes that burn with crimson decent.

Chalky, the grey skinned and hard boiled detective lived a life on the edge. A life not so easily lived, due to the fact that blood thirsty Mafia and them dark beasties kept his heart pumping. Chalky doesn't really know the last time his ever had a good night sleep. He thinks it was a Thursday, a Thursday afternoon at Old Magna's. Warm and welcoming most nights. Hot coffee would usually be prepared in an instant, graceful steam seeping from the liquid. This coffee was like magic to Chalky. Hard to swallow and shoots you in the face with so much caffeine, you could swear your heart has exploded and lined the innards of your chest. How, do you say you could one fall asleep with such a Beveridge fermenting in their stomach? Well, lets just say. When you run this stuff out of your system in two hours through hard boiled activities, where Chalky believes you shouldn't be concerned about, But I won't hold back the secret. Lets just say, Old Magna's daughter is too pretty to go unnoticed by Chalky's keen eye. Afterward, Chalky just collapses in a bundle of hot sheets and gasps of oxygen.
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Night air chilled the streets of old stone walls and iron traffic lights. Strange how its always night here, no sun ever rises or falls. Eternal darkness rains down day by day. Chalky walked briskly down a stone footpath. Flickering lights from old street lamps beamed down on chalky's hard boiled trench coat and wide brimmed hat, effortlessly swaying to his rhythmic movement.

Screams echoed from a nearby apartment. Chalky stared about, searching for the source of the broads plea. Silhouettes of a violent struggle could be seen behind a curtain up in the nearest apartment block. Chalky ran as fast as his feet could take him. He beat down the door of the lobby and rushed for the stairs. Rust decorated the rail leading upwards to his destination. Two steps, three steps. Chalky leapt up the stiars and came to the source of the screams and pleas of stopping. The door forced ajar, the chain which kept the doors security tight was held within its resting, and splinters lightly decorated the floor.

Chalky witnessed two men struggling. One man which had thick hair and a scruffy beard, wielded a slender knife, trying to force it through the other man. He was a more timid build, he was wearing an office suit, his hair neatly combed down with oils and other healthcare products. Furniture was toppling over, walls being scratched apart. A terrified woman stood idle, cowering behind a door frame crying in fear begging the attacker to stop. Chalky threw himself into the middle of the fight. He gripped the assailants arm trying to prevent the blade succeeding in finding its target. The surprised attacker shrugged himself off of Chalky's grip. A firm hairy arm and clinched fist plundered its way through chalky's lower jaw, sending him a metre across the room, random furniture crushed under Chalky as he landed on the floor. The attacker had gained victory. Chalky's interference had served a perfect distraction. Steel ripped through the fabric of the confused man's suit. A train of strength forced its way through and out with speed and ease. Blood caked the blade. Deep colours seeped and dampened the victims wound and clothing. He fell to his knees and soon after lay cold and motionless. The broad screamed and yelled out the name George. She attempted to rush over to his side, but the scruffy bearded man turned his attention and palmed her out of his way like an annoying insect.
"Hey" Chalky growled in his hard boiled demeanour and picked himself off the ground, brushing himself off. The bearded man peered his glassy gaze to Chalky.
"I don't think that was very nice" Chalky breathed and wrenched his hand into his coat. The bearded man ploughed his way through the furniture readying the blood caked blade for another victim.
"Prepare to die, fool. This will teach you for meddling." In a split second, Chalky unveiled a metal housing from his coat. Holding the trigger fast and firm, hardening his palms for the force. Gears and springs were brought to life. A solid embodiment of justice forced its way through the cranium of his attackers skull.