<span style="font-style: italic">The steady beat of a drum pounded in Edward's chest. Light's danced at the edges of his consciouscness and the smell of sweat and perfume mingled in the air. Someone nearby laughed, though he couldn't see who. The vague taste of scotch slithered across his tongue. Then it all began to fade, whirling into nothing.</span><br/><br/>His eyes snapped open and he gasped for breath, his body constricted by the tight space he was jammed into. All senses began to rush back to him as struggled in the rectangular space like a puppy in the grip of an eager child.<br/>"Dammit." he muttered, kicking his feet out with all the strength he could manage. The wall at his feet gave way slightly and broke off with a second kick. He heard it bounce across concrete as he shimmied out of the cramped space. The sudden bright light blinded him and sent him to his knees, his temples pounding. As his eyes adjusted he glanced around the room. It was dimly lit, an operating table in it's center, and walls lined with drawers. A morgue, he thought with a wry smile. Someone, somewhere has got a fucked up sense of humor. He stood and reached into the drawer he'd climbed out of, pulling out his hat and placing it on his head. Stretching like a cat, he cracked the joints in his neck and back, rubbing out the stiffness in his muscles. He walked over to the table and emptied out the contents of his pockets. A pair of sunglasses, two stiletto knives that felt oddly comfortable in his hands, and a wallet with two pieces of paper in it. One was a business card for a nightclub.<br/>"Edward W. Wright." he said, reading the name under 'Owner'. He knew that was his name, but had no recollection of any night club.<br/>"Guess I own a night club." he said, unfolding the other paper. He frowned as he read it.<br/>DO NOT WALLOW IN MISTRUST<br/>ONE THAT WOULD RECRUIT YOU IS A MONSTER<br/>"Vague." he muttered. "I don't like vague things." Stuffing the papers back into his wallet, he deposited it into his inner coat pocket. He turned to the exit and walked out into a lobby. Outside, it was late into the night and the city streets were empty. A sudden chime startled him and he was surprised to find both stilettos in his hands, poised for combat.<br/>"Have a great night, and welcome, again, to Ivy City." said an omniscient voice he couldn't pinpoint. Slowly straightening up, he put his stilettos into his belt and flipped up the collar of his coat.<br/>"Foreboding," he said as he began to walk down the empty street. "Foreboding is the word I'm looking for."