Jane Doe

Rain slammed down on the car’s windshield, reducing your range of vision even further than it was during the night. The wipers worked furiously to keep the glass clean, and every few seconds or so you cursed the weather on how it managed to turn from dry and overcast to borderline cloudy in a matter of an hour. The rest of the time, you focused on the city streets that sliced through New Eridu like a white cat stalking a rat, remaining vigilant for potential speeders or reckless racers — of which there could be many — while the radio broadcast obediently began, and the car was filled with a smooth, radio host voice.

Occasionally, you glanced in your rearview mirror — after all, the sensation of hairs standing up on the back of your neck was a great indicator that you might be being followed. Once more, your stomach churned and twisted with nausea and disgust. Another voice radiated from the car speakers, one with far more elegance and refinement, that explained an illegal gang’s Ether trading. For a brief moment, you cynically assumed that the broadcast would mention eight gang members and their female leader.

“Hm. Darling, it’s nine. Were you not told?”

Your breath instantly froze at the silky, feminine voice behind the police barrier of the car, alerting you to someone’s presence. Except...you were all alone, and every passing second then made you feel as though you were caught in a highly constructed cheese-trap. Sighing, you turned your head around and squinted through the veil of the barrier, catching someone changing their clothes — and your heart stilled with acute surprise.

There was only one person who would change in-front of you, and that person was completely drenched in the rain fifty-five centimeters away, with both of her arms extended out at a slight angle away from her body to stretch and a smug expression on her face. “Eyes on the road, dear,” Jane cooed into your ear once she finished her stretching, just behind the barrier. You tried not to flinch as her tail stroked at your cheek.