Clean

Fleur hugged her knees, eyes languishing on the various needles and gauges set in the gray metal walls, and gave another long, heartfelt sigh. Fully twelve atmospheres remaining, by what she could tell. Or, by a more relevant metric, a half-dozen more hours steeping in ennui inside the tiny decompression chamber. She should be grateful, she knew. Relish a bit of boredom after the mishap earlier that day, from which only quick reactions and some impressive new technology had saved her. But that was the sort of thing that happened five hundred feet beneath the surface.

Two women stepped onto the set. They were both gorgeous; long legs, firm asses, full breasts, and slender comely physiques. For all their beauty the pair looked very similar. Indeed, the shared pout of inviting lips and sparkling blue eyes seemed to suggest they might be related. The only obvious, immediate difference between the two was their hair; one girl wore hers short and scarlet red, the other had a cascade of mahogany curls down to her shoulders.

"Hey Selina, want some?" Lily giggled. Selina was a dork at high school, and everyone always mocked her for it. Her long, tangled black hair reached her waist and she had dark freckles all over her skin. She always wore tight clothing, trying to make herself look sexy, but it never worked. She was just a dork, and although she was actually pretty, nobody really cared. She was always a dork, and that's how it would always be.

Violet smith knelt down next to the newly discovered corpse. Her raven black hair fell over her cute asian face. As a homicide detective, she was called to the scene just a while ago. The strange thing about this one was, that he looked very much like the last three men who were killed in a week. He was wearing a long, black trench-coat with his blonde hair was pulled back into a thick pony tail. The strangest thing of all, was that he was carrying a strange looking, steel knife in his hand. It was just like the ones carried by the other victims.