Continued...
In another part of Cork, three students were making their way to a house party. Leading the group was Arven, a stocky bearded fellow in a knee length overcoat. Along side him was Susan, a redheaded lady in a scarlet evening dress, and shoes that gave her a vital additional height. Trailing the group was a taller, slightly taciturn man called David, whose curly mop of wild hair evoked a scientist, or a transient.
"Remind me again why we're not in a taxi right now. Who forgot to make the booking?" asked Susan, with mock scorn.
"Hey, don't blame me! I was busy dealing with that rogue android" protested Arven, playfully.
"We can't exactly use killer robots as an excuse at Donal's party!" retorted Susan.
"At least it's not snowing. Yet" added David through chattering teeth.
"It will before the night is out though." mused Arven. "Sue, you're frozen, are you sure you don't want to borrow.."
At that moment, Arven's words were snatched away as a howling wail shrieked it's way across the city.
"What the..."
"Sounded like it came from the East"
"Tower Street, maybe. Come on!"
"Thank Christ I can change out of these ridiculous heels"
"At least a jog should warm us up!"
The trio soon made their way towards the scene of the incident. Firstly by following the screams, then by following the crowd beginning to form. They edged their way towards the front of the crew, arriving just after the ambulance crew. Inside the cordoned area lay an elderly man, face contorted in a hideous death mask. His dead, eternally staring eyes seemed to betray a sense of pleading fear. His mouth fixed into an endless, silent scream. Then, the paramedics covered the man with a sheet, and the voyeuristic crowd began to disperse.
"So Dave, any ideas as to how this man died? In your medical experience" asked Arven.
"Well, as sure as I can be without actually examining the victim, I'd guess heart attack. Probably brought on by fear, or panic"
"Does it seem natural?" pondered Susan.
"Well, it is medically possible to die of fright, but usually there's some weakness, an underlying heart condition. As for what the fright may have been, maybe a mugger?"
"So, it's unlikely to be something befitting our skill set" Arven concluded.
"No, remember that cry, it sounded female, and he definitely couldn't have made a noise that would reach that far."
"Good point, Susan. Perhaps we should ask around, see if anyone knew the man?"
As they scanned the thinning crowd, Susan spotted a large gentleman discreetly trying to dry his tears. She approached him, preparing to begin her investigation.
"Excuse me sir, did you know the deceased?"
"Aye, Frank was a good man. He didn't deserve to go like this. I could have stopped him too. If only I'd insisted on him having one for the road..."
"So, you were with him tonight?"
"Yeah, he was in my pub. He left about 11.30, and not five minutes later, I heard the cry. And I knew."
"I'm sorry for your loss"
"Thanks lassie. So, are you with the police? Do you need to take a formal statement? Cause I'm not interested. You won't believe me. Like you didn't believe when my mother died..."
"No, no, I'm not with the police. I'm more of a private investigator, of sorts. You'd be surprised what I'd believe, I've seen so much"
"Aye, but have you ever seen the Banshee? If you want to know more, call to the pub tomorrow. I need some time to meself"
And so the three investigators continued with their evening, as if nothing had happened. But the party they attended seems subdued. The city seemed restless. And the entire city had nightmares. Horrible terrifying nightmares, which nobody could recall, save a tiny sliver of cold fear in the bottom of their hearts. The investigators awoke the following morning. Keen for answers. Keen to banish the dread wind that enveloped their city.
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