Storybook | Game

Moon Street Blues

Some people are just non-stick when it comes to the law. Seems they can do what they want to whoever they want and the law, for whatever reason can't touch them.

Sidney Novaks had started small, panhandling around Moon Street, preying on the young kids. You get a lot of students around Moon Street; the bars are cheap, a lot of bands play there, there's a lot of late night opening that shouldn't be late night opening, but there's never any trouble. Well, almost never.

Novaks had started shaking kids down, mugging them, slapping them around, dragging them to atm's if he thought he could get away with it. And he'd started getting nastier with the girls. Then a girl had come forward sobbing, shirt ripped, holding her ruined jeans up with her hand. Said she'd been raped, and she had. Gave a description of Novaks fitted him like a glove, corroborative witnesses put Novaks in the right place at the right time and Novak's own alibi didn't hold up.

And he walked free. Sons of bitches jury took just under an hour to take his word against the girl's and he walked free. Patrolwoman Riley stared at them. Not one of them could meet her eye. “Sons of bitches,” she whispered under her breath, “you useless sons of bitches.”

Her partner laid his hand on her arm. “Hey now,” he said, “nothing we can do. Due process of law.”

Riley tried to avoid the girl, she could feel the stunned disbelief from her. Hell she could feel the stunned disbelief from Novaks. There were shouts from the public gallery, Novaks stood there as if freedom was the one thing he hadn't planned on, which it probably wasn't.

Outside the courthouse Riley sat in the patrol car staring straight ahead. She did not want to see Novaks. She really didn't want to see the girl; God alone knew what she was going through right now. Riley stiffened. No, she told herself, this was not defeat, this was not the end, Novaks would trip up, he would put a foot wrong. But in order to put a foot wrong he had to commit a crime. Another girl had to turn up at a police station, her life torn apart. It had to happen to someone else.

She punched the steering wheel. Not a muscle flickered in her face but tears rolled down her cheeks. “This is shit,” she said. Her partner nodded. She glanced at him. “How do you stand it?” she asked, “Oh God Pete how do you get through a day like this?”

Pete took out a small paper bag full full of mints. He popped one in his mouth and offered the bag to her. “You're being emo,” he said.

She turned, white faced. “I'm being what!? Godammit Pete were you not in that courtroom?” She stared at him incredulously. “Fucking emo? Emo? Fucking emo? A girl's rapist walks free and you know he's going to do it again, you look me in the eye and tell me he's not going to do that again. We've failed. We've failed that girl, we've failed the girls that'll come after. We've failed Pete, we've fucking failed.”

Pete looked her in the face. “He'll do it again,” he said.

Riley stared at him. “What?”

“You said look you in the eye and tell you he won't do it again. I'm looking you in the eye. And he will.”

Riley slumped back in her car seat. “Thank you Pete for that little bit of native wisdom there. Man I love you like a brother, I would die for you but what the fuck am I supposed to do with that.”

Pete regarded her carefully. “Nothing.” he said.


Sidney Novaks walked the streets like a colossus. He felt invincible. Untouchable, he could just reach out and smack down any one of these pretty young punks and there wasn't jack shit they could do. It showed in his walk, his manner, people got out of his way, he felt it. He was dangerous, he was a predator and these were his streets. The little butterfly knife in his back pocket pressed against his ass impatiently, his cock stirred in his jockeys at the the thoughts of the adventures ahead. The lights of Moon Street, its little bars and clubs, its galleries and little fringe theatres flowed around him and he felt alive.

He saw her at an atm, already staggering a little, tight jeans hugging plump ass, a little too dressed up, showing a little more skin than the classy girls. An outsider, not one of the popular kids, making an effort, probably one of the quiet kids in glasses during a college day, but putting on a show tonight. He checked for a group of friends, an attentive male. She was alone. Her friends, and these girls never came out here alone, had left her to visit an atm alone. Novaks felt his predator spirit rising, here was his prey right in front of him, here was the lame beast a little adrift from the herd, hell she'd probably be grateful for a little attention from the Novakster. He liked that, felt a grin slide across his face. Novakster, he might start using that.

Conversation was easy, she was scared but the lights were bright and there were plenty of people around. She was too dumb to realise that no-one knew she existed, too naïve to know just how alone you could be in a crowd. Novaks linked his arm in hers, she was no more than eighteen, nineteen, weak with the fear already in her, already considering whether to scream for help but dithering, unsure. She was prey, he was predator and she was his by Nature's right. His cock ached against his jeans and the knife battered against him for attention. In a single smooth unbroken movement she tried to unlink his arm from hers, he slipped the knife out of his pocket and pressed it low against her belly and, tears and pleading already forming, she allowed herself to be hustled into an alleyway.

Funny thing about Moon Street, all bright lights and outdoor bars on the street, but just ten yards away you're in a maze of alleyways and back streets standing in piss and garbage. And all is quiet. And all is dark. The girl was pleading now, telling him she was still a virgin. Stupid cunt, that just made it better, Jesus he was hardly going to last 'til he got his jeans down at this rate. Hampered by the knife in one hand he fumbled at her jeans, cursing the puppy fat hanging over the button. She resisted, sobbing, but the knife was at her throat and her resolve was breaking. This was good, thought Novaks, this is almost too good.

“Sidney Novaks.” For a moment the voice didn't even register, then he squealed and span. There was a man standing in the alleyway. In the darkness Novaks could only see a vague outline. Guy was big, broad. Novaks squinted. “What the fuck you want?” He said, his voice high. “I ain't doing nothing, you got nothing, I'm helping this girl she was attacked I chased the guy off I'm a fucking hero you can't prove jack shit otherwise.” Some of the Novakster started to creep back, Novaks squared himself, weighed the knife in his hand. The guy was big yes, but that was just more to cut. “So you just leave mister,” he said, “you just get the fuck out of here. This is between me and my girlfriend, this ain't got shit to do with you.”

The girl was getting up, recovering herself. “Please,” she said, her voice faint but recovering, “please help me.” Novaks felt his evening slip away, suddenly the lord of the streets wasn't so lordly any more. Rage rose within him. “I am going to fucking cut you you cunt,” he roared at the shape, “I am going fucking make you bleed you are going to bleed on the fucking floor, you are going to fucking scream for your momma and then I'm going to stick her too you got no right, no right. No fucking right.”

The man nodded. “Run,” he said. Novaks flailed desperately, trying to salvage something of his evening. He turned to the girl. “Don't you fucking run anywhere,” he roared, “you stay right fucking there. You don't run fucking anywhere, you got me?”

“Sidney Novaks.” The voice was quiet, level. Novaks turned almost in tears. “What!?” He roared. “What do you fucking want? What. The fuck. Do you want?”

He couldn't see the man smile in the darkness of the alleyway but he could hear it in his voice. “Not her, Sidney Novaks,” the voice said, “You. Run.”

It's not like in the movies, with the guy vanishing under a table then reappearing with bits of fur on his face. It's like.. it's like the whole of reality shifts and suddenly there's always been a timber wolf in the alleyway staring at you with amber eyes. There never was a man, it's always been a wolf. Novaks shook his head, how could he have fucking missed that? Six feet long, heavy as a man, pure muscle driving teeth like chisels, power to weight ratio off the fucking scale the thing could run at forty miles an hour and bite through solid bone. It was a perfect killing machine and it was less than thirty feet away from him. How could he have fucking missed that?

Novaks began to run, the scream he heard was probably his.


“You ok? You look like shit.” Riley handed her partner a coffee. “Sorry about yesterday, I got a little .. you know.”

Pete nodded. “I know,” he said. He sipped. “Good coffee.”

Riley smiled. “I'm glad. Something to remember me by. Because I swear if I see Novaks today this is my last day on the force because so help me I will kill him myself.”

Pete shushed her with a look. “You won't,” he said. “See him.”

“You seem awfully sure of that, you know something I don't?”

“Hear a rumor he might have left town.”

“Really? Any idea where to? We should warn the local force. Look are you sure you're not coming down with something? You look as though you haven't slept a wink. If I'm spending all day in a patrol car with you I don't want to be catching something.”

Pete smiled into his coffee. “I'm fine”, he said, “probably something I ate.”

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