Prologue:
The leader was a plain looking woman who lived in a small apartment. It was night and she was naked. Several of her followers were also naked.
Each of them were regular, everyday people. The leader herself was a financial analyst who looked at numbers all day. None of her colleagues in the office could ever imagine that she'd have bizarre macabre paintings on the wall.
When the leader was presented with a gold mask, she smiled and tried it on. Still naked, she savored her new appearance and her followers were pleased. The followers wore their masks as well.
They lit candles and turned off the lights before chanting. This ritual came from ancient scriptures and was the source of their power, along with the events that would soon follow. When they finished chanting, they felt energized for the night, each of them hungry for more.
Laying across the carpet, the leader spread her legs and allowed each follower to have a turn. Pleasures of the flesh were a reward system of their beliefs. And every night, a different follower was required to share.
It wouldn't be long until their first mission. Targets and locations were already selected. Soon, they'd be the most infamous group in America.
The Investigator:
Detective Ling Wong had interviewed inmates in federal prison before, but this was different. This time, she was newly promoted to the homicide division where she had greater authority. A string of recent retirements allowed her to nab the spot around her 40th birthday.
It was an open secret among law enforcement that this prison was corrupt. There was a mutually-beneficial alliance between prison officials and the criminal groups inside. The Warden turned a blind eye to smuggling and bribery, in exchange, violence was kept to a minimum.
Despite the danger of it all, Detective Wong felt safe coming here alone. After going through security and making her way inside, the detective met a lawyer named Catherine, a tall statuesque woman who'd fit in any corporate boardroom.
They were both clean-cut professionals who could have been anything in life, yet here they were, inside of a prison which housed violent offenders. Ling almost became a lawyer herself. In her early 20's, she got accepted into a good law school, but backed out at the last minute to pursue criminal investigation; a decision which dismayed her parents.
"Good morning, detective," Catherine said while offering a handshake, with a stone cold beautiful face.
Detective Wong shook the woman's hand. "Good morning. Security took longer than expected. I hope I didn't keep you waiting."
"Not at all. I'm accustomed to being here. These days I spend more time around cell bars than in my office, if you can believe that."
There was a slightly crooked grin that formed on the lawyer's face, and Ling could certainly believe that the exaggerated statement was true. It was commonly known that Catherine was the go-to lawyer for organized crime. The best legal expertise that money can buy.
A corrections officer led both women down the hall, while they each carried their respective briefcases with them.
The man they were going to see was Mr. Bruno, who by all accounts, was the inmate who ran the prison from the inside. He was in charge of what crimes were allowed, and which crimes weren't. Drugs, gambling, and even prostitution. It was also believed that many of the officers, and potentially the Warden, were all on his payroll, which explained the excessive perks he got.
Mr. Bruno was sitting alone in an empty room where conjugal visits were held. He had a cup of coffee and had finished smoking a cigar. A perk he flaunted, knowing that a detective was coming.
"The visitors are here," the corrections officer told the inmate.
He nodded. "Very good."
While the officer kept a distance, Detective Wong sat across the same table as the inmate, while the lawyer sat to the side.
Greetings were brief. They'd met before on several occasions, back when Ling was assisting a lead detective on a bank robbery case and they needed information from this man. She had always found him to be intimidating.
"Let's get to the point," Detective Wong said.
Ling opened her briefcase and took out a folder. She spread the pictures on the table so the prisoner could get a good look.
The pictures were a glimpse of the twisted violence that plagued the city and had citizens on edge. There were macabre murders being committed with religious tones. Strange rituals were performed at each crime scene.
"Creepy stuff," Bruno said, half nodding. "I'm glad I'm locked in here, where it's safe."
"What do you know about these people?"
Ling tapped her finger on two of the photographs. Surveillance images of masked men wearing hoods and robes leaving a crime scene.
"I may have heard a few things," Mr. Bruno said vaguely. "Just rumors. People talk behind bars, ya know."
Detective Wong leaned forward. "Listen, you arranged this meeting. If you want a deal, we can work something out. If you can provide helpful information, then I'd be happy to talk to the parole board on your behalf."
"All I know is, cops lie. As for me, I'm a man of my word. Whatever I say, happens."
"Mr. Bruno, you're dealing directly with me now. I do everything by the book. If we make a deal, it'll be in writing so that your lawyer can review it."
The man looked over to his lawyer, who gave a curt nod, signaling that this was a deal worth making.
"May I propose a firm offer?" Bruno asked.
"Please do."
"We become partners of sorts," he said, striking a business tone. "I help you. And you help me. Everybody wins."
She kept a strong poker face. These kinds of secret arrangements were common in law enforcement, which Ling always frowned upon. This was the first time she had ever been offered such a deal because of how straight-laced she appeared.
"Why are you offering this to me?" Ling asked. "Surely you have plenty of connections with other agents."
He smiled, "I had my attorney do a little research and you're the best choice for what I'm looking for. And I'm looking for something very, very specific. Something only you can give me."
"You're being vague."
"Need me to spell it out, detective?" he asked.
"My time is valuable. Tell me what you want for the information."
Bruno leaned closer. "What does every man want inside prison?"
"Sex," she replied. "For someone like you, that's readily available here."
He shrugged. "Sure, I can get my dick sucked. It took years before I could finally bribe the right officers to bring me pussy during weekend conjugal visits."