Cavington Chronicles, Part I: Inspector Mason

I slowly open my eyes to a dimly lit compartment. Rain pounds the window next to me, and I can hear the steady clacking of a train racing over the tracks.

Jennifer Young: “Oh, good, you’re awake. We’ll be there soon.”

I look across the compartment. Jenny sits, a newspaper in her hands. Her hair is tied up in a bun, and she wears a long, black dress.

I look out the window at the rain outside. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window. I reach up, feeling the hat that’s perched atop my head. I look myself over. I’m wearing a fancy pinstripe suit. Why was I-

Chad Mason: “Where are we going?”

Jenny peers over the top of her newspaper at me, a smirk flashing across her face.

Jennifer Young: “Don’t play dumb with me, detective. We’ve only been talking about this trip for the past four months. Are you getting cold feet?”

As soon as the word “detective” leaves her lips, I’m aware of a small weight in my breast pocket. I reach in, and pull out a small leather case. I peek inside, and, sure enough, there sits an identification card, complete with my picture.

“Chester Mason
Private Investigator”

Chad Mason: “How far?”

Jenny looks out the window.

Jennifer Young: “Oh, I can’t imagine it’ll be long now. Have you looked over your notes?”

Chad Mason: “Not yet.”

Jennifer Young: “Well, I suppose you’re the expert. I would have practically memorized them by now.”

Chad Mason: “Do we have a plan in place?”

Jennifer Young: “Not unless you’ve decided to change it. As far as I was aware, we were heading to the Institute, and you intend to ask a few questions to Mr. Eastwick.”

Chad Mason: “Right. No, I was only curious.”

I was slowly starting to piece it together, though it still didn’t make much sense. Yet, for whatever reason, this DID seem strangely familiar. Had I spoken about this before? The train blows its horn, and I look out the window as a city limits sign zips past. A bolt of lightning flashes just long enough for me to read it before we pass by.

“City of Cavington
Pop. 1,213,500”

Chad Mason: “Big city.”

Jennifer Young: “And riddled with crime. Right up your alley, I think.”

I laugh.

Chad Mason: “I suppose so.”

The train slowly pulls to a stop. One of the conductors pokes his head into my compartment.

Conductor: “Inspector? This is your stop.”

Chad Mason: “Thanks.”

I grab my suitcase and a thick leather briefcase. Jennifer follows me off the train.

Jennifer Young: “Shall I take your stuff to the hotel? I suppose you’re ready to work.”

Chad Mason: “Yeah, go ahead. I’m going to check into this whole Institute business.”

Jennifer kisses my cheek.

Jennifer Young: “Good luck, inspector.”

I smile at her, and watch as she hails a taxi. I look around the city. It certainly had that big city feel…

A taxi pulls up to the curb, and I slide in.

Driver: “Where to?”

Chad Mason: “Cavington Institute.”

I spot the driver’s eyes, staring at me suspiciously through the rear view mirror. His eyes are a cold blue, and seem to stare straight through me to my core.

Driver: “What business you got there?”

Chad Mason: “My business is my own.”

Driver: “Lot of loonies up in that place, I’m telling you. Better men than you have gone up there and came out changed men.”

I smirk.

Chad Mason: “I think I’ll manage.”

Driver: “Whatever you say, man.”

The taxi pulls through the streets, and I have a chance to look at the city as we drive through.

Driver: “So what brings you to Cavington?”

Chad Mason: “I hear you folks have a bit of a crime problem.”

The driver snorts.

Driver: “Bit of an understatement.”

Chad Mason: “Care to share?”

Driver: “If you ever want to witness a crime in Cavington, just wait five minutes. Bound to be something happening.”

Chad Mason: “THe police don’t get involved?”

Driver: “You’re kidding. Half the cops in the city are on someone else’s payroll. Crooked cops, man.”

Chad Mason: “Nobody’s tried to stop it? Nobody’s ever blown the whistle?”

Driver: “Closest thing we got to that is Redentor. But that asshole’s as crazy as they come. Surprised he ain’t up in the Institute, to tell ya the truth.”

Chad Mason: “Redentor?”

The driver chuckles.

Driver: “That’s what he calls himself, anyway. Cristo Redentor. Like that fancy statue they got in Brazil. Christ the Redeemer. He’s sort of a vigilante, I suppose. Total nutcase, mind you…but he stops criminals. The ones he can catch, anyway.”

Chad Mason: “It’s a start.”

Driver: “Don’t say that til you see the man in action. No such thing as ‘due process’ with Redentor. He catches you, and he plays his little game. You survive, you’re free to go. You don’t…well, that’s one less bad guy on the streets, isn’t it?”

Chad Mason: “He kills them?”

Driver: “Like I said. Total nutcase.”

Chad Mason: “I see…”

I notice for the first time that it’s snowing. The driver mutters something under his breath, and puts his wipers on.

Chad Mason: “Strange weather you have here.”

The driver laughs.

Driver: “Someday, kid, you’ll learn the ins and outs of this town. Nah, this ain’t natural. We’ve entered Frost’s territory.”

Chad Mason: “You lost me.”

Driver: “She leads some sort of gang. Bunch of anarchist punks, really. They don’t pose much of a threat. Frost though…powerful little bitch.”

Chad Mason: “What about the snow?”

Driver: “Not really sure what happened to her. Some sort of freak accident, I hear. Totally warped her. Fucked with her head, I think…but the funny thing is, it gave her this weird…ability, I guess. I don’t know. All I know is that ever since she and her gang set up shop here, it hasn’t stopped snowing since. This part of town is always colder than a witch’s tit. Don’t matter the time of year. Could be Christmas, could be the middle of July. Fucking snow, all the time. Doesn’t take an idiot to see she’s got something to do with it.”

Chad Mason: “And nobody’s ever thought to-“

Driver: “Put a stop to it? Like who? Fuck, I’m nervous just driving through her part of the city. You tell me how to fight a bitch that can somehow freeze twelve city blocks, and I’ll lead the damn task force in to take her out myself. They say even Redentor wants nothing to do with Frost. Especially now that rumors are circling around that she’s got Killbane on her payroll.”

Chad Mason: “And-“

Driver: “Yeah, yeah, you don’t know. Killbane. More of a mercenary than anything else. He’s a dude that cares about money, only money, and nothing but money. I’ve seen him in person, and….shit. I can count on one hand the things I seen that are scarier than that…thing. I don’t even know if it’s a real man. Gotta be some sort of machine. Hell, people say he can’t feel pain. I believe it. Rumor has it he’s survived six shootouts against Cavington’s police. And Killbane doesn’t like to use guns.”

Chad Mason: “He fought them off single-handed?”

Driver: “Very possible. Course, he wasn’t working with Frost back then. He might’ve been with Snake Eyes.”

Chad Mason: “And Snake Eyes is…”

Driver: “Giovanni Corelli. He’s gone now. Shot down. But he was good. One of the best, in fact. That’s why it was so scary when he turned up dead. Shot between the eyes, no less. He was one of the best marksmen I’d ever seen. Got his name from those freaky eyes of his. Like these two little yellow slits in his head. Freaky shit, man. But he wound up dead. Scared a lot of people, too. We don’t know who did it. Wasn’t the police, they spent ages investigating to try to find out who done it. Probably wanted to send him a fruit basket or something. Wasn’t Redentor, he would’ve made it public if he did it. Wasn’t Masterpiece either. If it was, we’d have had one of her freaky artworks by now. Whoever did it though…they got past Killbane, and beat Corelli at his own game.”

Chad Mason: “Interesting.”

Driver: “That’s the weird thing about Killbane. He’s been around the city a time or two. Worked for a lot of big name crime bosses. But they always end up getting knocked off. Snake Eyes, Crash McLeod, and Senator Monroe all got themselves killed. Word is, Killbane worked for Kryptic for a while too. Kryptic ain’t been seen in months.”

Chad Mason: “He died?”

Driver: “I don’t think so. They never found the body if he did. Kryptic is a weird one though. See, I don’t think anyone’s ever seen him. Or at least, not many have. Some think it isn’t even one guy. More like a group of people, working under one name. He was on top for a long time. Pretty much ran the entire city at one point. Then one day, he just sort of disappeared. His puzzles stopped appearing around the city, and the cops couldn’t trace crimes back to him. Some think he died. Others think something scared him off, and he left town.”

Chad Mason: “Is it possible he’s still working, and police just haven’t been able to tie him-”

Driver: “Nah. That ain’t Kryptic’s style. He never gets caught, but it ain’t for lack of trying. That was his weird thing, you know? He’d leave these puzzles. Sometimes they’d hint at the next crime he was going to commit. Sometimes they were hinting at who he was, or where they could find him. Hell, I think there was one time he left one that told them where to find the money from a bank he just robbed. They found it sitting in a warehouse, with nobody around. Like he didn’t even care, he just wanted to see if they could figure it out.”

Chad Mason: “OCD, perhaps? Or narcissism. He demands everyone play his game, try and solve the clues he leaves behind.”

Driver: “He’s picking the wrong crowd to test it on. Half the cops in this city are too dumb to drive through the streets alone, let alone solve Kryptic’s puzzles. The guys who might be smart enough to do it are getting paid off, and don’t bother looking into crimes when they present themselves.”

Chad Mason: “So you think Kryptic’s still around?”

Driver: “Personally? Wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest. I think he’s sitting back, biding his time. There’s a reason he never got caught. Dude’s too smart. He knew exactly how the system worked, and he exposed its every weakness. I think right now, he’s waiting for someone to come along and test him. I think that’s what he’s after. Wants someone to match wits with. Wants to see if anyone can beat him at his own game. Once his work stopped appearing, we had a lot of new faces pop up. Frost took power. Shocker went on his run. Killbane had a solo career of his own for a while, then went back to being a paid hitter. Redentor came shortly after that…lot of crazies in this town, man…”

Chad Mason: “Sounds like my kind of place.”

Driver: “We’ll see about that, I suppose. You got some guts, kid, I’ll give you that. But I think you’re greatly underestimating the things this town can do to you.”

Chad Mason: “Nothing I can’t handle.”

The driver pulls up to a massive building sitting on top of a hill. Massive metal gates creak open, and I’ just able to see the rusted metal sign above the gates.

“Cavington Institute”

Driver: “Welcome to the Institute.”

I nod slowly, looking up at the building. It looks almost castle-like in appearance, with spires that reach to the skies, cutting into the stormclouds overhead.

Driver: “You need anything else?”

Chad Mason: “No…I think I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

I slip the money into the driver’s hand as I step out of the taxi. Cavington Institute was a massive building, with massive buttresses holding up gothic-style walls. Gargoyles sneer at me from their perches atop the castle walls. I slowly walk up to the front doors, and raise the heavy brass knocker, letting it fall to the wood with a satisfying thud. A moment passes, and the door slowly opens.

???: “Enter.”

I look into the building, expecting a face to greet me. None was there. I cautiously step inside, looking up at the marble entrance hall. The ceiling depicts a massive mural, a large hand extending from white clouds and light, pointing to a barren land of fire and destruction. A man in the center is shown, falling away from the light, and into the wasteland. The man’s face is split. The light shines on part of his face, showing a handsome man with a boyish face. In shadow, however, the man looks distorted, aged, and angry.

???: “You enjoy the painting?”

I turn to see a man step out from behind the door.

Chad Mason: “The fall of Lucifer?”

He nods.

???: “Seems fitting, I think. Just as he rebelled against God, and was sent out of Heaven, so the people here have fought against the society that kept them, and have been sent out to a Hell of their own.”

Chad Mason: “Kind of a bleak view on this place, don’t you think?”

???: “This building is home to many nightmares.”

Chad Mason: “Seems that way.”

THe man extends his hand.

???: “James Cavington. And you are?”

I shake his hand.

Chad Mason: “Detective Chester Mason.”

James Cavington: “Ah,right. We spoke on the phone.”

I nod.

Chad Mason: “Everything is in order, then?”

James Cavington: “I’ll have security lead you to his cell.”

I smirk.

Chad Mason: “Wonderful.”

He motions for me to follow him. We walk through the massive entrance hall, into a series of narrower hallways. Every so often, we pass by a cell, and I’m able to catch a glimpse of the inhabitants. Some cells seem to be specially made to accommodate some sort of strange quirk about the inmates. One particular cell contains a massive heat lamp which hangs from the ceiling, offering a circle of intense light on an area on the floor. A man lies, curled up in the center of the circle of light. His entire body seems to be smoking, and every so often, I swear a burst of flame erupts from his skin.

Chad Mason: “This isn’t your ordinary prison, I take it.”

James Cavington: “My father funded its construction when he took office as mayor of the city. Call it the strange nature of the criminals here, but we found it was necessary. A lot of strange things happen around here. This place is not truly a prison, though, you’re right. We think of ourselves more as a mental institution. We hope to study these people, learn a bit about how their minds work, and perhaps help to change them into productive members of society.”

Chad Mason: “And how is that working?”

James Cavington: “If my father wasn’t the mayor, this place would have been shut down years ago, I think. I’m afraid there’s no hope for the people who stay here.”

He pauses, and almost as an afterthought, adds:

James Cavington: “It’s almost like they don’t want to be helped.”

Chad Mason: “Some people don’t.”

We come to a stop in front of a large wooden door.

Chad Mason: “Wood? Seems low security to me.”

James Cavington: “It serves its purpose. Please, touch the steel rod to your left.”

He motions towards a large metal pole that juts out of the ground next to the door. I stare at it cautiously for a moment before grabbing hold of it. Nothing happens.

Chad Mason: “Why-“

James Cavington: “Grounds yourself. Eliminates all static electricity from your body. Believe me, it’s important that you do this.”

Chad Mason: “Right.”

I look at the door in front of me.

Chad Mason: “Anything else I should know?”

Cavington looks from me to the door, and back.

James Cavington: “Not that I can think of. You sure you want to go through with it?”

Chad Mason: “It’s something that needs to be done.”

James slowly opens the door.

James Cavington: “Godspeed.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chad Mason: “I won. I now hold the briefcase that allows me a title match. Anytime, anywhere. Like a guaranteed world title run, right here in my hands.

Watch it, Shark. Eventually, I’m coming for you.

I think there are a lot of people that think I’m going to fuck this up. They’re wrong. I will not waste this chance. I will not lose this match. I am going to be the IWF Champion. THe rest of you can just sit back and watch it happen.

As for this week? What is this week? This week is meaningless. It’s me and Sea against Steel and….whoever the fuck this guy is. Sean hasn’t been impressive since he first started here. And Steel? He got his ass kicked by Corey Casey, after a long month trying to fool people into thinking he could actually win.

What I do is my own business. Why I do them is my own business.

This week, I continue on my path to try and turn things around. Steel Angel….you’re another victim on my path to the top.”