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#Post#: 21151--------------------------------------------------
Sin City Story: The Gangster, The Cop, and The She-Devil
DIR By: Coolcat207
Date: August 11, 2026, 5:12 pm
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Prologue: Welcome to Sin City:
Prologue Theme Song: Evening Cafe:
(
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s-zAYHeV4i8&list=PLnkQVM0UNGAG4NUudIOqayxH9mezUCxIP&index=1)
It was a foggy night when he rode into Nevada on a Greyhound
that smelled like old cigarettes and broken promises. Thirty six
years on this earth, and Detective Elias Crane had already seen
enough corruption in Chicago to make a priest curse. But Sin
City? Crane was warned that this cesspool of a urban world is a
different breed of wicked. A place where people don't just lose
their souls, but they just auctioned them off cheap. The bus
hissed to a stop under a flickering streetlamp. Midnight heat
pressed against him like a hand on his throat. Neon signs buzzed
overhead, painting the pavement in sickly reds and radioactive
greens. The city looked alive, almost hungry, even. Crane
stepped off, adjusting the brim of his fedora. His coat was too
heavy for desert nights, but he wore it anyway. Habit. Armor. A
reminder of where he came from. He wasn't here for the nightlife
or the showgirls. He wasn't here for the casinos promising
fortunes they'd never let a man keep. He was here because Dwight
McCarthy, an old friend from the force, had sent him a letter
written in a shaking hand.
Eli. I need your help. The bastard's here. The mob boss who
vanished from Chicago. They're protecting him. Sin City isn't
what you think. Come fast.
Dwight wasn't the type to scare easy. If he was shaken,
something was very wrong. Crane lit a cigarette, the flame
briefly illuminating the scar along his jaw: A souvenir from a
case that still haunted him. He took a drag, letting the smoke
curl upward like a ghost escaping his lungs. A black sedan
rolled past, slow enough to be watching him. The driver didn't
look his way, but Crane felt the eyes. Sin City had already
noticed him. He walked toward the Lucky Mirage Hotel where he
would be staying for the night or two. Every step echoed with
the weight of the case he'd dragged across state lines. The mob
boss known as Vittorio "The Saint" Bellandi, had slipped out of
Chicago like a phantom, leaving bodies and bribes in his wake.
Rumor said he'd bought himself protection out here. Rumor also
said the protection wasn't human. Crane didn't believe in ghost
stories. But he believed in fear. And this city reeked of it. As
he crossed Fremont Street, a woman in a sequined dress brushed
past him, whispering without turning her head.
Woman: Careful, stranger. Sin City doesn't forgive curiosity.
He stopped. She was already gone, swallowed by the neon haze.
Crane exhaled slowly. Chicago had taught him to expect danger.
Sin City was teaching him to expect sin (obviously). And
somewhere in this desert playground, this place will either give
him answers or a corpse. Crane tightened his grip on his
suitcase and stepped deeper into the glow.
Story:
Bar Theme: Your Heart Is As Black As Night:
(
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kmc1XN3iVVc&list=PLnkQVM0UNGAG4NUudIOqayxH9mezUCxIP&index=18)
Renato's Theme: Sift Heads 2 Theme:
(
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bo2B-2dFYKA&list=PL2UDcOhGBtfOD8VRfPE457TI1k1HFWLrI&index=5)
Danae vs Renato: D+T:
(
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5gAax1nDl4&list=PLRW80bBvVD3X8HKFna8WZqSLW_Mv0MWfL&index=4)
Danae's Cambion Mode Theme: Exorcist. Yes, that one.
(
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PR-wiO1a4jc&list=PLRW80bBvVD3X8HKFna8WZqSLW_Mv0MWfL&index=7)
Old Town Theme: Moscow Morning:
(
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2plIJHiBxk)
Epilogue Theme: Lake of Fire
(
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NpGczM7gYFU&list=PL5NaQUcLY2gCJL2NZnbrJM3qYc3aEB2Vr&index=14)
It had been a long day, longer than most. Crane had spent hours
chasing leads that dissolved the moment he touched them, and
dealing with a sleazy local cop named Harlan Briggs, who had
perfected the art of being useless. Briggs had given him nothing
but smirks and warnings about "Keeping his nose out of Sin City
business." Crane left the station with a headache and a growing
suspicion that the rot in this town ran deeper than he'd
thought. He needed a drink and quiet. Unfortunately, he got
neither. The bar he just walked into was dim, lit by a few
tired bulbs and a neon sign that buzzed like it was dying. Crane
slid onto a stool, ordered a bourbon, and let the burn settle
into his bones. He was halfway through his first sip when
movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. A young
woman with ebony skin, long black hair, dark brown eyes that's
sharp enough to cut glass. She sat alone at a corner table. Her
clothes were casual but crisp, the kind of outfit that said she
cared about appearances but didn't need to flaunt anything. A
sleazy gangster hovered over her, leaning in too close, his
breath probably as foul as his intentions. Crane watched the
strange woman silently. Straight spine, steady gaze, and no
fear. He was about to step in anyway, because that's what he
did. But she moved first and fast, almost like a bullet. Her
fist **** across the gangster's face with a clean, practiced
snap. He stumbled back, landing on his ass, clutching his nose
as blood poured between his fingers. The bar nearly went quiet.
Crane stood, stepping between them before the mobster's buddies
could decide to make it a group activity.
Crane: Easy, pal. She's with me.
The gangster glared up at the woman with murder in his eyes. But
he also saw Crane's stance, the weight in his shoulders, the
Chicago grit that clung to him like smoke. After a tense second,
he spat blood on the floor and walked off. Danae brushed a
strand of her hair back, unimpressed.
Danae: I had that handled.
Crane: I know. I just wanna avoid any unnecessary escalations.
Danae makes a half smirk but doesn't protest. They then found a
booth away from prying eyes. Crane noticed the way she studied
him—measured, curious, not intimidated.
Crane: You got a name? Or do I call you Sugar Ray Robinson?
Danae: Heh. Funny. The name's Danae. Danae Levesque. And you?
Crane: Elias Crane. But Crane is fine for now.
Danae: You're from Chicago. I can hear it. The accent. The way
you talk. That and I've been there before.
Crane: smirks a bit And you're from New Orleans. That drawl's
too smooth to be anything else.
Danae: Her smirk becomes a small smile. Kind of. Been a long
time since someone pegged it that quick.
They talked. Small things at first. Then bigger ones. Danae
nodded toward the gangster nursing his broken nose.
Danae: He's part of a small mob outfit. New. Sloppy. They popped
up after some big boss from the north came down here looking for
protection.
Crane: You got a name?
Danae: A lowlife name Vittorio Bellandi. Guess it didn't stick
when they threw the book at him, huh? notice Crane's expression
changing You know him...
Crane: Leans back, exhaling through his teeth Too well. And
unfortunately, the slippery bastard manage to burn a few pages
during his run.
Danae: taps her fingers on the table I can take you to his
hideout. The new one. They move around a lot, but I got intel on
where he's staying tonight.
Crane: I don’t want you getting hurt.
Danae: I can handle myself. You saw that.
He had. And he believed her. But belief didn't erase danger.
Still, she held his gaze with a confidence that didn't waver.
Crane nodded once.
Crane: All right. Lead the way.
Later on in the evening, The old gas station sat alone on the
edge of the desert, its rusted pumps like gravestones for a
business long dead. A single flickering bulb above the garage
door cast a sickly yellow glow across the **** pavement. Crane
didn't like the look of it. Hideouts were supposed to be
discreet, not abandoned monuments to bad decisions. Danae stood
beside him, arms crossed, eyes sharp. She didn't flinch when he
pulled a small revolver from his coat.
Crane: Take it.
Danae: I don't need a gun.
Crane: It's not about need. It's about not dying.
Danae hesitated, then sighed and took the weapon. Danae: Fine.
But I'm not shooting unless I have to.
Crane: Trust me, you will.
Before she could reply, gunfire erupted inside flowed by a
chorus of screams of fear, pain and agony. Crane's instincts
kicked in. He lunged for the door, but the handle didn't budge.
Danae tells him that she'll head to the back as she runs around.
He heard her footsteps vanish around the corner, then something
else. A deep animalistic roar that sound like it didn't belong
to any living human. Crane swore under his breath. He didn't
wait. He raised his gun and fired at the hinges. He threw his
shoulder into the door, and it burst inward. As he charges
inside, the smell of blood and gunpowder hit his nose like a
train. There were bodies littered all over from gangsters to
strangers in dark cult like cloaks. Some of the bodies had
bullet wounds but others were torn apart like a wild animal was
let loose and went feral. As Crane was distracted by the
carnage, he managed to snap out of it when he heard a shout
echoing from the back office. Crane ran toward the door, yelling
for Danae. He reached the office just in time to see Danae
thrown through the doorway, hitting the ground with a cry of
pain. She clutched her side, breath ragged. Crane rushed to her
side and dropped beside her. Before he can do anything, a figure
steps out of the shadows. He was young, ebony-skinned, with
dreadlocks tied back. He wore a mobster's suit, but his hands
dripped fresh blood. His eyes glowed a predatory golden yellow,
and when he grinned, his teeth were fangs. He spoke with a
smooth Brazilian accent, voice dripping amusement.
Man: I swear, you have a bad habit of picking up strays at the
worst possible time and place, Danae. Now unfortunately, I'm
gonna have to put him down before we continue our little fun.
Three's a crowd after all.
Crane raised his gun, but the creature didn't flinch. Meanwhile,
Danae struggled to sit up, glaring at him. Crane's whole world
tilted. Mobsters. Cultists. A literal bloodbath. And now this...
thing. That was when he realized something: Sin City wasn't just
sinful. It was monstrous. Regardless, he's not going to leave
Danae alone with this thing. So he stands his ground as he aim
his loaded gun at the figure..
Crane: Get back!
Man: Huh. Look at that. He's still here. He tilted his head,
golden eyes gleaming with an amused sneer on his face.. Normally
people run, cower, or beg for mercy. Usually it's all three.
Crane: Shut up! Where's Bellandi?
The man's grin widened, fangs catching the dim light. Man: Oh
him? I took care of him. He was talking about making it big and
trying to rebuild his gang, blah, blah, blah. Cute, until he
started messing with the wrong people. Powerful people. So he
had to be taken care of. He stepped forward, voice dropping.
Just like you.
To Crane's horror, the man shrugged off the bullets like they
were nothing. They slowly push out of his body and hit the
ground. Crane could barely comprehend it because next thing he
knew, the man appear in front of him, brought his two fingers
out and flicked Crane away like he was a bug, sending him flying
toward a wall and falling onto the ground with a pained grunt
and thud. The man hops down and walk toward Crane who is in and
out of consciousness when Danae yells out to the man.
Danae: Leave him alone, Renato!
The man now known as Renato, sighed dramatically and turned
around to fully face the young woman. Danae stood tall, eyes
blazing, her earlier wounds already healed from earlier.
Renato: Great, now I really have to kill him.
Danae: You're not touching him.
Renato: Barks a laugh. That's rich, coming from you! Last time I
checked, you don't owe people like him a damn thing. Why are you
even protecting him? His kind are all the same. The moment he
finds out what you REALLY are, he'll treat you like all the
hairless apes before him treated you. How they treated us!
Danae: I am nothing like you, monster. She growls as she balls
her fist, cr@cking her knuckles
Renato: grins Oh, we're more alike than you want to believe.
You're just too prideful to see it. But I'll be happy to give
you a quick reality check.
With a growl, Renato lunges at Danae with inhuman speed, pinning
her toward a wall. Danae manage to break free of the hold and
the two begin to fight each other using martial arts. While this
happens, Crane manage to come back to reality. Using the
distraction, Crane crawls over to the ammo boxes to try to find
some silver bullets. Although he is unsure what Renato is
exactly, he knows that he is not human. As he loads up the
bullets as quietly as he possibly can, Renato began to have the
upper hand. During the fight, Renato is shown to be a werepire
(half werejaguar, half Nubian vampire) and use his werepire form
to overpower Danae. Danae tries her best to fight back but it's
no avail. What makes it worse is that Renato tapped into his
Become the Beast transformation power to give Danae a harder
time.
Renato: Did you really think that this would get any better for
you? It didn't go so well for you last time when you barely
survived me back in Brazil. And I was just in my human form! I
can easily rip your damn guts out in seconds with just my teeth!
snorts But what really p*sses me off is that despite all of
this, you still choose to hold back. And for what? In fear of
giving Gaia some second degree burns? To avoid being seen by
those inferior? Pathetic! Grins as Danae hissed at him,
struggling beneath his weight. We can't fight against our true
nature. It'll only hurt us at the end. You out of all people
should've known this. Guess the lesson Valentino taught you
prior didn't stick after all. Maybe he should try harder.
That was when Danae snapped. With an enraged snarl, blue
hellfire erupted from her palms, blasting Renato backward. As he
recovers, he looks at Danae, who has dark blue eyes with black
sclera, small ram like horns curled from her temples, sharp
teeth and claws, followed by a demon tail unfurling behind her.
Renato laughs at this as he brush himself off.
Renato: There she is!
He exclaims as he throws himself into the fight. Unfortunately,
Crane saw the whole thing. Despite being shocked, he manage to
get a grip and readies his gun. He then fires his gun, but the
bullets hit Renato, which gives Danae a chance to blast a blue
hellfire ball at Renato, sending him flying back. Though
unfortunately, the fight and injuries wore Danae out, making her
pass out. She collapsed on the ground, reverting back to her
human form. Noticing the building burning down, Crane begins to
get up. Despite being hesitant, Crane runs over to Danae after
putting his gun away, scoops her up and carries her out of the
burning building. Sin City wasn't just sinful. It was
supernatural. And Crane was already in too deep.
Morning:
Danae drifted in and out of sleep, the kind where dreams felt
too close to memories. Danae's stirring suddenly changed to her
shooting up awake with a start. She begin to calm down when she
heard a familiar voice call to her. She turns to see Kabir
Solomon, a friend she made back in Chicago who is a wereleopard
hybrid (from his father's side. His mother is human).
Kabir: Easy, now. You're safe.
Danae sigh softly to herself, not out of relief. It was a wary
one. She examine at her bandaged hands as she talks to Kabir.
Danae: It happened again. I let it take over.
Kabir: Danae...
Danae: That damn freak...! How on God's green earth can I be so
stupid?! I can't believe that I let him get into my head like
that! Augh! What the--?!
Kabir: Yeah... sorry. I had to use my Heaven's Gate powers and
then some to dampen your powers. Gail's orders. Last thing she
needs is to explain to the landlord why the place is on fire.
Danae: Gail's place... wait, how did I end up here?
Kabir: That Detective Crane guy brought you here with help from
Dwight and a few of the Old Town girls.
Danae: Wait... Crane brought me here? What about the fire?
Kabir: The "hell" part of the fire was taken care of to the
point that it didn't get the chance to spread or for the
authorities to catch any suspicions. We were able to flee when
the firefighters came to put the fire out.
Danae: That's good. But what about Crane? How long will he be
here? Did you wipe his memories at least?
Kabir: Um... not sure yet. Right now, he's talking to Gail and
Dwight. And whatever Gail says, goes. You know that.
Danae: Yeah, but he can't be here. Him being in this cesspool is
bad enough. But not only he knows about our world, but he is
also very much aware that we are not human, mainly me! This is a
problem. Damn it, I need to talk to Gail and Dwight.
Crane: Guess this is a bad time to come in, huh?
Both Danae and Kabir stop talking and turn to see Kabir holding
a 'Get Well Soon' card and a bottle of bourbon whiskey. He
strides over to Danae, grabs a nearby chair and bring it over to
where Kabir is sitting so he can sit by him. Although not
afraid, Danae and Kabir can smell a bit of uneasiness from him,
as if he's still trying to adjust. Not that they can blame him.
Danae: Couldn't help yourself, can you?
Crane: To be fair, you two suck at whispering.
Danae makes a face but the smile quickly disappear due to the
situation. Danae: Look Crane, I'm sorry about everything. You
weren't supposed to know about all of this. Hell, I didn't even
know that all of this was gonna happen--.
Crane: Yeah, I understand. Don't get me wrong, this whole thing
is weird. But you did save my ass back there. Would be a real
d*ck move to leave you alone to die. That and Dwight would've
kicked my ass all the way back to Chicago if I ever did that to
any decent soul like that. So, let's start with the basics. Do
you know what that thing was? The one I shot?
Danae: ...His name is Renato. Not gonna lie, this is my second
time running into that bastard. Nothing much is known about him
other than he's from Brazil and that he's a werepire.
Crane: Sorry, what is that again?
Kabir: A hybrid of a vampire and a werebeast, most typically a
werewolf. They're very rare. The fact that he's half jaguar is
even rarer. Especially since werecats are known for being
solitary animals for the most part outside of their respective
tribes.
Danae: And obviously, werepires aren't really well liked by
either of their parent species. They're viewed as abominations,
even in the supernatural community. To be honest, I've only
heard stories about them when I was young from my godfather,
Xylo.
Kabir: Same here from my father, but he's pretty neutral about
werepires. Though personally, I don't really care about stuff
like that. Especially coming from an activist myself. As long as
you're not an assh0le, you're alright with me.
Danae: Unfortunately, this werepire turns out to be a real
assh0le... almost to the point that I do not want to encounter
another werepire anytime soon for the next decade.
Crane: I don't know, you seem to handle yourself back there. You
set his ass on fire. Literally.
Danae: Yeah, along with the building, genius.
Crane: Look, the point is that whether you guys like it or not,
I'm in it. So I might as well use the time to help out Old Town.
Who knows? Maybe then I'll earn enough trust to learn more about
you.
Kabir: That's gonna be a while, Detective. By the time she opens
up, humanity will end up on the moon.
Danae: F*ck you. She mutters with a glare
Crane: laughs a bit Fair. Now let's have a drink.
Danae exchanged a look with Kabir which is a mix of exasperation
and acceptance. Then she shrugged and reached for a glass. The
three of them sat together, sharing bourbon in Gail's cramped
living room. The afternoon outside buzzed with Sin City's smog,
but inside, something new had formed. A strange alliance. A
fragile trust. And the beginning of a partnership Old Town
didn't know it needed.
Epilogue:
The docks at the edge of Sin City were quiet. Too quiet for a
place that usually crawled with smugglers, night‑shift
workers, and things that preferred the dark. Fog rolled in from
the water, thick enough to blur the moonlight into a smear of
silver. Renato sat on a crate, shirt torn, suit ruined, blood
drying on his skin in dark patches. His wounds were healing
slowly, but enough. The silver burns still stung, but he'd felt
worse. Much worse. It was still annoying since it wasn't just
any type of silver. That silver was specifically blessed by a
certain priest which affected him. Officer Harlan Briggs hung
from a hook behind him, tied up with industrial rope, face
swollen and purple from the beating. He whimpered through the
gag, barely conscious. Renato stretch and lazily begin to speak.
Renato: You know, I expected more from you. Batista told me you
were reliable. Turns out you're just a sleazy pig who can't keep
Chicago trash out of our business.
Briggs tried to speak, but only managed a wet groan. Renato
raised a clawed hand, ready to finish the job, but a new scent
hit his nose which made him stop. A cultist stepped out from
behind a shipping container, robes dragging across the wet
concrete.
Renato: sighs You reek of sulfur, blood, and avarice. If Batista
sent you about the pig, tell him I'm almost done.
Cultist: The son of Mammon is aware of your mission and knows
you will not fail, werepire. I am here because the son of Iblis
sent me to deliver a message. You are being summoned back to the
sanctuary immediately.
Renato: Any idea what for?
Cultist: No. He did not specify. Only that your presence is
required. Especially after your recent encounter with the
daughter of Satan.
Renato: Yeah, I know. Not only did this sleazy swine try to
screw me over and fail at keeping that Chicago detective out of
our affairs, but now I'm gonna smell like sulfur and singed hair
for a week if I'm lucky!
The cultist waited silently as Renato wiped blood from his
hands, annoyed.
Renato: Tell them I'll be there for their little meeting ASAP.
But if this matter is about the princesa, then we're going to
have to get crafty in order for her to get that reality check.
She can't pretend to be sheep forever. Valentino proved that
point back in Brazil. He'll do it again here. He glanced at
Briggs—broken, useless, terrified. Besides, I've got unfinished
business.
The cultist stepped back into the fog, vanishing as if swallowed
by the night. Renato turned toward the water, golden eyes
glowing like twin lanterns. Sin City had changed. The daughter
of Satan was awake. A Chicago detective had survived him. And
the Church of Demons wants him there. Renato has established to
Zarek that he will not be a follower of any religion but he will
stick around since he has nothing better to do. But he is able
to do nearly anything he wants with the cult by his side. He
just has to do odd jobs for them here and there. As long as he
can also go after certain people like supposed men of cloth,
it's alright with him. Besides, this city is a cesspool of Sin.
They either admit their own faults or end up slaughtered and
damned like everyone else. Renato grinned, fangs glinting as he
faced the corrupt cop again.
Renato: Welcome to damnation. Let's see how deep this rabbit
hole goes.
End
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