The Velvet Room: A Crime Noir Short Story
The Velvet Room stood on the edge of Sugar Bay like a ghost refusing to fade—a relic of jazz’s golden years, now long dead. Declan Cross crouched under the rafters, the stale air pressing down like a weight as his hands worked at the hidden compartment in the spotlight. Milinah leaned lazily against the stage below him, arms crossed and smirking like she knew just how much his patience was fraying.
“You always take this long to crack a code, or is it your way of keeping me here for company?” she teased, her voice sharp enough to draw blood if he wasn’t careful.
Declan didn’t look down, prying at the panel with his knife. “You got somewhere better to be, sweetheart?”
Milinah tilted her head, her earrings catching the faint glint of the streetlamp outside the boarded-up window. “If you keep calling me ‘sweetheart,’ I’m gonna start thinking you don’t know my name.”
Declan gave the panel one final shove, the wood creaking in protest as the latch gave way. His voice was low, steady. “Oh, I know your name, Milinah. I just figure ‘sweetheart’ suits you better.”
She straightened, smirking up at him. “Careful, Cross. Keep that up, and I might start thinking you like me.”
“Wouldn’t go that far.” He reached inside the compartment, pulling free a battered notebook. Dust spilled around his fingers, thick like the secrets inside. “Bingo.”
Milinah stepped closer, heels clicking softly against the warped floorboards. She took in the notebook with narrowed eyes, the faint Seraphim emblem etched onto the leather cover. “Someone’s been keeping secrets in all the wrong places.”
Declan hopped down from the rafters, landing just close enough for her perfume to catch in the air between them—a mix of wild roses and trouble.
“You ever think,” he murmured, flipping through the pages, “that secrets are just truths too ugly for daylight?”
Her smile faded, just enough to soften the sharp edge of her expression. “You mean like this one?”
Declan stopped, his hand resting on a page filled with cryptic symbols. “This one’s not ugly, Milinah. This one’s dangerous.”
They moved fast after that. The clues in the notebook were scattered like breadcrumbs across Sugar Bay, and the trail got darker with every step.
The stained-glass window at the old pier church cast a crimson shadow over the stone floor—a shadow Milinah swore she could feel in her chest as Declan brushed dust away from the hidden engraving.
“You sure about this?” Milinah asked, watching him from the edge of the light.
Declan didn’t pause. “You wanna walk away, no one’s stopping you.”
She didn’t move. “And miss the fun? Not a chance.”
His fingers traced the symbols, stopping on an etching that matched the emblem in Celeste’s notebook. He glanced back at her, his voice quieter now. “I don’t think this ends clean.”
Milinah stepped closer, her gaze locked on his. “It never does. You know that.”
By the time they reached the docks, the air reeked of saltwater and decay. Declan lit a cigarette, the flame catching briefly before fading against the darkness. Milinah flipped through Celeste’s notebook beside him, her brows furrowed in thought.
“These clues are insane,” she muttered. “They barely connect, and the ones that do feel like they’re leading us off a cliff.”
Declan took a drag, smoke curling around his words. “Celeste wasn’t writing for amateurs. She knew her audience. Someone who could think like her.”
Milinah looked up, her frustration softening just slightly. “Someone like you?”
He smirked faintly, exhaling smoke into the night. “Maybe. But it takes two to figure out what she left behind.”
She turned back to the notebook, flipping pages with steadier hands. “Fine. Just don’t expect me to let you take the credit.”
Declan’s voice was almost too low to hear. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The Shipyard at Dawn
The warehouse loomed ahead, its rusted doors hanging crooked like the grin of a man who already knows your hand’s a losing one. Fog curled up from the bay, thick enough to smother the faint orange glow of the rising sun. Declan flicked his cigarette into the water, watching the ripples vanish like promises never kept.
“You always this dramatic at sunrise, or is it just for me?” Milinah asked, adjusting her coat against the damp air.
Declan smirked, keeping his voice low. “Sunrises are for suckers. Night’s honest. Sunrise just makes everything look prettier than it is.”
She arched a brow, stepping closer as her boots crunched on gravel. “Does that line work on everyone, or do I get the VIP treatment?”
“VIP,” he said. “But don’t let it go to your head. That coat’s trying hard enough already.”
Milinah snorted, but the sharp edge in her laugh softened when her eyes drifted to the warehouse. “This the part where we knock on the devil’s door and hope he’s out for a coffee break?”
Declan slid his revolver from its holster, testing the weight in his hand. His tone was quieter now, the tension building in his voice. “No knocking. Whatever’s inside, it doesn’t care for invitations.”
She reached into her pocket, pulling out her knife—a blade sharp enough to cut silk but used for things far meaner. Her voice was softer too, barely above a whisper. “Think it’s worth it? What we’ll find in there?”
He glanced at her, the revolver steady in his hand. “If it’s not, this’ll be a short story.”
Milinah sighed, nodding toward the warehouse. “You lead. I’ll make sure nobody takes a shot at that charming back of yours.”
Inside the Warehouse
The air inside was colder, thicker. The kind of heavy that clings to your lungs and makes every breath feel like it belongs to someone else. The faint light from the shattered windows above cast jagged shadows on the floor—shadows that moved even when Declan and Milinah didn’t.
“What’s that smell?” Milinah asked, her nose scrunching.
“Decay,” Declan muttered, stepping over a broken crate. “Or bad memories.”
Milinah stayed close, her blade glinting in the faint light as her eyes scanned the dark corners. “You always this fun in the morning?”
“Only when I haven’t had breakfast,” he said, his voice low enough to feel like part of the shadows. “Keep your eyes open.”
They found it in the center of the warehouse—a single crate, untouched by the rot and ruin around it. The Seraphim’s emblem was stamped into the wood, its grooves painted with something too dark to be rust.
Declan’s grip on the revolver tightened. “They didn’t leave this behind by accident.”
Milinah knelt beside the crate, her fingers trailing over the emblem. Her voice carried a thread of something softer, something almost hesitant. “Celeste wasn’t just leaving clues. She wanted us to see this. She knew we’d follow.”
Declan crouched beside her, his eyes scanning the room for movement. “You think she knew what was waiting for us?”
Milinah’s gaze flicked to his, her knife resting lightly in her grip. “If she did, she didn’t leave us much of a warning.”
Declan leaned in, pressing his fingers against the edge of the crate. “Then maybe we stop waiting for warnings.” With one swift motion, he pried it open, the wood splintering under his grip.
Inside were records—old reels, thick with dust but intact. Each labeled with dates, locations, and names written in a tight, deliberate hand.
Milinah reached for one, brushing off the dust to reveal the title: End of the Line. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Her final song.”
Declan’s jaw tightened as he lifted another reel, the name scrawled across it making his gut turn cold: Sugar Bay Terminal - 3 AM.
Milinah met his gaze, the color drained from her face. “She wasn’t just singing about shadows, Declan. She was naming them. Calling them out.”
He nodded, slipping the reels into his bag with a grim resolve. “Then we’re not done. Not yet.”
Her hand touched his briefly—unexpected, fleeting, but grounding. “Whatever’s in these,” she said softly, “it’s bigger than us.”
“Doesn’t mean it gets to win,” Declan muttered, pulling her to her feet.
And as they moved toward the exit, the warehouse seemed to breathe behind them—silent, waiting, as if the secrets inside weren’t done with them yet.
The Hidden Reels
Declan and Milinah didn’t waste time. They drove straight to a small recording studio tucked behind a laundromat on Sycamore Street—a place that didn’t ask questions and ran on favors instead of cash.
Inside, the reel-to-reel player sat on a wooden desk, the dust barely disturbed since the last time anyone had used it. Declan threaded the first reel, Sugar Bay Terminal - 3 AM, into the machine, pressing play with a quiet determination.
The room filled with static—then footsteps. Heavy breathing. A voice, hushed, tense.
Celeste.
"They know. They know I’ve been watching. God help me, they know."
Milinah stiffened, her fingers curling against the edge of the desk. Declan remained silent, eyes locked on the machine.
The sound of train whistles cut through the background, the distant murmur of Sugar Bay’s underbelly in motion.
"The Seraphim think they own the dark, but they forget—I learned how to listen. And I’ve heard things they don’t want getting out."
Declan exhaled slowly, lighting a cigarette with a flick of his wrist. “She was playing a dangerous hand.”
Milinah’s voice was barely above a whisper. “She lost.”
The tape crackled as Celeste’s breath hitched.
"They move at night. They meet at the water’s edge. They carry something with them. Something old. Something they stole."
Declan and Milinah exchanged a glance.
"I saw them leave it at the terminal. Locked behind steel, hidden like it never should’ve existed. It’s not just knowledge—it’s power. I think… I think they’re scared of it."
Milinah leaned in, voice tight. “What kind of power?”
The tape hissed, her last words barely legible beneath the static.
"If someone finds this… don’t let them bury it again."
The recording cut off. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the reel spinning empty.
Declan tapped ash into the tray beside him, his expression unreadable. “Whatever she saw, whatever the Seraphim locked away—it scared them enough to kill her.”
Milinah stared at the machine, then reached for the second reel: End of the Line. She swallowed hard before pressing play.
This time, music filled the room—Celeste’s voice, smooth, aching, dripping with warning.
"Darlin', don't go chasin' shadows in the tide...
You know the night don’t play fair, it keeps secrets out of sight..."
Declan listened, his jaw tightening as realization crept in.
"Follow the tracks, but don't look back...
Find the lock before the clock runs out of time..."
Milinah whispered, almost to herself, “She left instructions. In the song.”
Declan killed his cigarette, his pulse steady despite the weight in his gut. “Sugar Bay Terminal. Something locked away behind steel.”
Milinah looked at him, something sparking behind her eyes. “Whatever scared the Seraphim, it’s still there.”
Declan stood, rolling the tapes back into their cases. “Then we’re going hunting.”
Sugar Bay Terminal – The Final Discovery
The train yard stretched out before them, soaked in the damp haze of pre-dawn. Steel tracks gleamed under flickering overhead lights, casting long shadows against the loading docks. Declan parked three blocks away—close enough to move fast, far enough to stay off anyone’s radar.
Milinah pulled her coat tighter, scanning the deserted platforms. “Celeste wasn’t vague. She said steel. Whatever the Seraphim locked away, it’s underground.”
Declan eyed the restricted section ahead, where thick iron doors were bolted into the concrete. “They didn’t just hide it. They sealed it.”
Milinah smirked, flipping open her knife. “No seal stays locked forever.”
They moved quickly, slipping past silent train cars, stepping into the shadows where the Seraphim wouldn’t think to look. Declan stopped near a rusted vent—a grate that looked useless but whispered of hidden passageways below.
Milinah knelt, running her fingers along the base. “This was pried open before.” She looked up at him, her voice hushed. “Someone else tried to get in.”
Declan crouched beside her, tracing the bent metal. “Or get out.”
A shift in the air. A distant sound—a hiss, metallic and wrong.
They didn’t hesitate. Milinah wrenched the grate free, exposing the tunnel below. They slid in fast, dropping into the concrete pit beneath the terminal.
The smell hit them first—old earth, machine oil, something stale with time.
Declan flicked on his lighter, the small flame illuminating the underground chamber. Locked behind steel bars stood a vault, untouched by the outside world. And there, branded deep into the metal, sat the Seraphim’s emblem.
Milinah ran her fingers along the lock. “This is it. This is what Celeste saw.”
Declan exhaled, pressing his palm against the cold metal. “Whatever’s behind here—”
The door shuddered open on its own.
Milinah stepped back, pulse kicking up. “That’s not normal.”
Declan tightened his grip on his revolver. “None of this is normal.”
Inside, the room was lined with old archives, stacks of sealed documents, forgotten recordings—an entire history buried beneath Sugar Bay. But in the center of it all…
A glass case, untouched, housing a single artifact.
A black ledger.
Milinah’s voice was barely a breath. “That’s not just records.” She turned to him, her expression sharp. “That’s who they are.”
Declan’s grip tightened. “And if we take it, we take their power.”
For the first time, the Seraphim’s secrets sat within reach. But the shadows were already moving—the real question wasn’t what they’d found.
It was who was coming to make sure they never left with it.
The Reckoning at Sugar Bay Terminal
Declan barely had time to lift the ledger before the shadows surged forward. A flicker of movement—silent, controlled—the Seraphim were already here.
“Move!” Milinah hissed, drawing her knife as she whirled toward the entrance.
Declan didn’t hesitate. He stuffed the ledger into his coat, gripping his revolver tight. The first figure lunged—fast, too fast—but Milinah met him with steel, twisting as the blade caught the man’s wrist.
The vault became a war zone.
The second figure swung at Declan, a blade glinting in the dim light. Declan fired—one shot, then another—but the Seraphim didn’t fall easily.
“We’re boxed in!” Milinah growled, shoving back another attacker, breath sharp.
Declan scanned the chamber, calculating. Only one way out. He grabbed Milinah’s wrist and yanked her toward the nearest exit—a ladder leading back to the main platform.
“Go!”
They climbed fast. The Seraphim weren’t far behind.
Milinah reached the top first, kicking free of the tunnel just as the first gunshot screamed past her. Declan pulled himself up, gun raised, firing back without hesitation.
They ran.
Across the loading docks, weaving through silent train cars, dodging bullets that bit into metal just inches from their heads.
Declan’s breath came rough, adrenaline fueling every movement. “We get out of here, we make this count.”
Milinah smirked, ducking behind cover, eyes burning with defiance. “That ledger? It’s gonna burn them alive.”
Another shot. Another shout. The Seraphim weren’t slowing. They weren’t giving up.
Declan took Milinah’s hand, pulling her toward the back fence—toward the only chance they had to make it out of Sugar Bay Terminal alive.
And behind them?
The truth—their victory—and the Seraphim’s wrath.
The Narrow Escape
Declan felt Milinah’s hand slip just slightly as they reached the back fence. Blood.
“Damn it,” he muttered, catching her weight as she pressed a hand to her side. The bullet had grazed her—not deep, but enough to slow her down.
Milinah gritted her teeth, shaking him off. “I’m fine, Cross. Move.”
The fence loomed ahead, rusted but climbable. Declan fired another shot behind them, buying seconds, not safety. The Seraphim were closing in.
Milinah didn’t hesitate. She climbed, fast, ignoring the pain.
Declan followed, boots scraping metal, lungs burning. Below, the shadows surged forward—too damn close.
Milinah reached the top first, twisting her body over before dropping to the other side. Declan wasn’t far behind, landing rough, but still standing.
No time to breathe. They ran.
Through alleyways, past shuttered storefronts, deeper into the maze of Sugar Bay’s underbelly.
Milinah stumbled once—just for a second—but Declan caught her arm before she could hit the ground.
Her breath was ragged, pain in her eyes, but she still smirked. “You’re—” She sucked in air. “—not gonna start worrying about me now, are you?”
Declan shook his head, gripping her tighter. “You got shot. I get to worry for five minutes.”
She chuckled, weak but sharp. “Three.”
Declan exhaled, scanning the street ahead. No sign of pursuit. For now.
They stopped beneath a broken neon sign, the hum of electricity barely audible in the quiet.
Milinah pressed a hand to her wound, muttering. “Could’ve been worse.”
Declan pulled the ledger from his coat, flipping through the pages, eyes narrowing.
“It almost was.”
Because what was inside was bigger than anything they imagined.
And now?
The Seraphim weren’t just hunting them.
They were hunting their own secrets.
The Fallout Begins
Declan didn’t waste time. They needed a safehouse, somewhere off the grid—somewhere the Seraphim wouldn’t find them before they cracked the ledger.
The Salty Seamen was out. The Velvet Room was a coffin waiting to be filled. That left one option.
A warehouse by the docks—abandoned, but not forgotten. Just like them.
Milinah slid onto a crate, her breath uneven as she pressed a rag against her side, red seeping through the fabric. “Tell me you got something good in that damn book, Cross.”
Declan flipped through the pages, scanning rows of names, transactions, coded entries that read like the spine of Sugar Bay itself.
The Seraphim weren’t just pulling strings. They owned the city.
Milinah let out a dry laugh, weak but sharp. “Looks like we stole the keys to the kingdom.”
Declan glanced at her, his jaw tight. “Yeah. Only problem is, the kingdom wants us dead.”
The warehouse door rattled—the wind, or something worse.
Declan stood fast, gun in hand, moving toward the window. Shadows.
Milinah’s fingers twitched toward her knife. “Tell me you got a plan.”
Declan exhaled, steadying his grip on the revolver. “I got two.”
She smirked, wincing slightly as she adjusted her position. “Let me guess. One of them gets us killed.”
Declan’s eyes flicked to the ledger, his mind racing. “Yeah. The other just pisses them off.”
Outside, the Seraphim were watching.
They weren’t running this time.
They were ready.
And Declan & Milinah?
They were about to set Sugar Bay on fire.
The Razor-Sharp Escape
The second Declan saw movement in the shadows, he knew they were out of time. The Seraphim weren’t hesitating—they were closing in fast, and the warehouse had just turned into a death trap.
Milinah pushed herself upright, pain flashing in her eyes, but she was still steady. “We staying or running, Cross?”
Declan shoved the ledger into his coat, eyes scanning the room. “We don’t have the firepower to stay.”
Milinah let out a ragged breath, tightening her grip on her knife. “Then let’s make them regret chasing us.”
The first gunshot shattered the window.
They moved.
Declan kicked over a crate, sending tools clattering across the concrete as he grabbed Milinah’s arm, hauling her toward the back exit. The Seraphim were fast, cutting off the main doors, but they weren’t expecting desperation.
Milinah vaulted over a rusted railing, landing rough but moving forward. Declan wasn’t far behind, his revolver snapping off three sharp shots—not to kill, just to make them flinch.
The alley was tight, tangled with crates and forgotten scraps from the docks. Footsteps echoed behind them, but Declan knew these streets better than they did.
“This way!” he barked, dragging Milinah toward an old fishery, slipping through a narrow passage only a local would know.
Milinah bit back the pain in her side, keeping pace. “How much longer do we have to keep pissing them off?”
Declan smirked, firing one last shot toward the docks. “As long as it keeps us breathing.”
They cut through the fishery, slipped between half-rotted walls, and sprinted toward an abandoned lift shaft leading straight to the bay.
Milinah skidded to a stop, looking over the edge. “This your genius plan?”
Declan gave her a sharp look. “You want to fight them instead?”
She exhaled. “Hell no.”
Without another word, she jumped.
Declan followed, hitting the cold water just as shouts erupted above them.
They vanished into the tide—gone before the Seraphim could land a second shot.
The Bigger Reveal
The night air hit like a brick when they finally hauled themselves onto the edge of a forgotten dock. Safe—for now.
Milinah coughed, pressing a hand to her wound. “You owe me a damn drink after that, Cross.”
Declan sat beside her, dripping water, revolver still in his grip. “You didn’t have to jump first.”
She smirked, shoving wet hair from her face. “Wanted to make sure you’d follow.”
Declan pulled the ledger free from his coat—soaked, but intact.
Milinah eyed it, the exhaustion in her voice laced with intrigue. “You think whatever’s in that book is worth almost dying for?”
Declan didn’t answer at first. He flipped the ledger open, scanning pages, stopping cold when he saw it.
One entry.
One name.
Celeste Vale.
Milinah stiffened beside him. “She was—”
Declan’s voice was quiet. “Alive.”
The last recorded transaction. Made two days ago.
Milinah stared at the page, breath shallow. “Celeste should be dead.”
Declan exhaled, feeling the weight of it settle in his chest. “Then someone’s lying.”
They weren’t chasing a ghost.
They were chasing someone who wasn’t supposed to exist anymore.
And that meant the Seraphim weren’t just hunting them.
They were burying the truth.
Full Throttle: The Storm Breaks
Celeste Vale was never supposed to be found.
Declan and Milinah stood in the shadows of the forgotten depot, guns drawn, hearts hammering. Celeste sat on the edge of an old bench, wrists bruised, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion woven into her skin.
“I don’t have time to explain it all,” she rasped, voice hoarse, heavy with urgency. “But you need to listen. The Seraphim—they’re not just running Sugar Bay. They’re covering something up. Something old.”
Declan stepped closer, the weight of her words sinking deep. “We already know they’ve been erasing history. But what’s worth keeping you locked up for this long?”
Celeste exhaled sharply, gripping the back of the bench. “There’s something beneath Sugar Bay. Something buried. The Seraphim weren’t always in charge—they took power from the people who built this city.”
Milinah tightened her grip on her knife. “Who built it?”
Celeste’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Not men.”
Declan froze.
Celeste swallowed hard, glancing toward the vault door. “There’s a chamber—a sealed site beneath the lagoon. Older than anything anyone’s ever documented. And the Seraphim have been guarding it for centuries. But not because it’s theirs.”
Milinah’s breath caught. “Because it belongs to something else?”
Celeste’s expression darkened. “Because if the seal is broken, they lose everything.”
The depot shook.
The first gunshot tore through the iron walls.
The Seraphim were here.
Declan threw himself against Celeste, knocking her to the ground as the next bullet splintered the bench. Milinah fired back, her breath sharp and focused, eyes locked on the shadows moving in fast.
“This ends here!” a voice called through the depot. “Hand her over, Cross!”
Declan rolled behind a crate, gripping his revolver tight. “Yeah? Then come and take her!”
The next wave hit hard—three, maybe four Seraphim agents, trained, relentless. Milinah dove toward the old steel beams, using the structure as cover while she sent two quick shots into the dark.
Celeste was pinned, terrified, but still fighting to speak.
“You have to listen!” she shouted over the chaos. “If they’re willing to kill for it, then you know it’s real! The seal beneath the lagoon—it's cracking!”
Declan’s blood ran cold.
Milinah snapped her gun closed, firing again. “What happens if it breaks?”
Celeste’s voice rang sharp, her words the only warning they’d ever get.
“Then Sugar Bay isn’t theirs anymore.”
Declan fired the last shot in his revolver, landing a hit that sent one of the Seraphim collapsing against the iron beams. He grabbed Celeste’s wrist and hauled her up.
“We’re leaving,” he growled.
Milinah didn’t argue.
They moved—fast, cutting through the depot, gunfire snapping at their heels.
The Seraphim had finally shown their true desperation.
And outside the depot, beneath the surface of Blackwater Lagoon, something was waking up.