UV light still lightly grasped, bottle of Luminol at his feet, Lefleur sat brooding. Decadent assortments of apparel surrounded his folding chair throne. The faux fresh scent of detergent tickled his nose.

Yet he did not laugh, however much he felt himself the jester.

Troubled thoughts swirled behind his brutal face, a face that bore the dents and lumps of man’s lesser nature. Despite all this, he liked to see humanity as fundamentally good. That was why he did what he did.

People are good; they deserve to be helped.

Some things fly so directly in the face of this supposition that the whole system is turned on its ear. Some actions just don’t sit well. There are always exceptions, but some exceptions seem too unwieldy to reconcile.

Some people are bad; perhaps even, they deserve to die.

A voice from upstairs called him away from his dark contemplations. In looking up he saw the light of dawn, a light after too dark a night, slipping through dusty basement windows.

But what had the day brought?