девочка

He took a deep breath as he left the building, sucking in the wet night air before he set off, trudging through the gray drizzle toward the next nondescript building, hands tucked in his pockets, eyes forward. These shit holes all looked the same, all smelled the same, all peddled the same garbage, but each had its own unique menagerie of incels, cat-fishers, and pedophiles that kept it in business. There was just enough crossover to set down a subtle trail of breadcrumbs to the next crime scene, but they almost always ended up as dead ends or self-fellating feedback loops. Sometimes it was like connecting dots, other times it took a leap of faith. 

After a short walk he came to to the next building. This place was old. The red bricks were cracked and worn and the door didn't fit in the frame. He gave it a gentle push and it flung open, slamming against the brick wall with a jarring thud. With the door open, a riotous flood of neon light spilled out into the wet street, bathing him in a grotesque rainbow of debauchery. He squinted his eyes, peering through the doorway and down the hall, then took a deep breath and pushed himself into the building. 

He made his way quickly down the hall, skipping past doors that his gut told him held nothing. One hall led to another, then another, then another. One floor led to another, then another, then another. Hall after hall, floor after floor. Ever so often there would be something that would catch his eye and he would take note of it or nibble at the bait and take a closer look, but each room turned out to be just another dead end.

The weight of the night was beginning to settle on him, pulling at his shoulders and blurring his vision. "One more," he whispered to himself, something between a promise and a threat. He shook the weariness from his eyes and jogged up another flight of stairs, taking them two at a time. At the top of the stairs he was hit in the face by the large neon letters: "девочка". 

"Fuck," he said to himself. "Gotcha." He reached into his jacket, pulling out the only weapon he ever carried, and kicked in the door.