Work Text:
The usual place for a crow on the Northern Square was at the bottom of the fountain basin, with all the shiny coins that attracted its attention. Such was its nature.
The usual place for Sam Milsky, was in front of the brothel Sphinx, attracted by the hustle and bustle, by beautiful ladies and gents and mainly, by all the money.
But it was all the same in the end, be it the young crow or a naive socialite, when the stops were pulled and the stream came rushing, they would both be found at the bottom of the fountain, at three in the morning, head under the surface.
It wasn't fully their fault but there was also hardly many others to blame.
Terrified shrieks would soon be exchanged for police sirens and the square is cut to pieces by a roll of yellow tape. Cries of people who knew him were few and far between and sorrows of those who mourned it were cawed across the city.
Was there anyone who saw the event? Were there any eyes that spotted the face of the one who layed the bodies down?
A cacophony of raised questions and of angered black wings spread among the people and beasts alike. The perpetrator was sure to be found soon.
But as the rays of sun turned to the electric lights for the third time, questions started to quiet and the rush of tightly bound boots slowed to a comfortable pace, the fountain was visited again.
Under the watchful gaze of Triton and a sorrowful look of two mermaids, one more body was found. With clawmarks covering his face and arms and pecked out eyes, neck broken by the impact at the bottom of the fountain, there was no more trace of jealous rage in Patrick Coulton's body.
Where justice failed, the murder took its revenge.