One model closer towards finishing the Shadows of Red Chapel crew box. Copycat killer is the totem for Seamus. A challenging model (so tiny) but a sculpt that is loaded with character. Below is a fluff piece and some pictures. Do you ever run Seamus without Copycat?
End of the Hunt by Craig
Five months came down to tonight. Clarence suspected the dapper Sebastian Baker. He watched him during the day and into the night. It was all making sense. In the few hours he would lose track of Baker another woman was dead. The other investigators were confident that it was the Red Chapel Killer, Seamus, that was killing showgirls and prostitutes. Clarence was now confident who Seamus was.
He watched Baker step out of the theater. The Guild investigator checked his watch. The show wasn’t going to end for another twenty minutes. Perhaps Baker had an urgent appointment?
Baker strolled down the street. Clarence kept twenty or thirty yards between him and the killer. Cautious but in full stalk. He wasn’t going to lose track of Baker tonight. Tonight Baker would make Clarence’s career. The man that brought the Chapel Killer to justice! The man who made Malifaux safe! He was reading tomorrow’s headlines in his head as he carefully shadowed Baker.
His prey stopped, took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around. This part of downtown didn’t have the theater and saloon lights to keep the shadows away. Baker put his ridiculous hat back on and slipped down an ally that Clarence didn’t see at first while the few gas lights casted odd shadows.
He didn’t have time to run around around the building if the ally opened on the other side. He had to keep following. He reached the edge of the ally and listened without peering around into the darkness.
Was that bastard whistling?
“Well, my dear, I am afraid your story ends here.”
Clarence heard the words clearly. This was it. He would save the girl. Save the town. It was happening. He drew his pistol and carefully turned down the ally. It was not open at the other end. The two lights from the apartment windows above bounced just enough light to make out shapes.
He didn’t need more light. He could see the animal’s silly hat. He had his back to Clarence. The poor lady must be on the other side of him. He squinted trying to figure out of Baker was facing him or if he had his back to him as he spoke to the girl.
“Put down the gun, Clarence.” He stopped. His feet suddenly fused to the dirt and gravel. He kept his gun up and ready as Baker turned towards him. He was not afraid. Even hearing Baker call him by name wasn’t enough to block him from his destiny.
“I know who you are, Baker.” Clarence tried to sound confident as if he had the entire Guild behind him. He still couldn’t make him out but the angle of his hat meant he had turned to face him.
All attention was forward. All fear was buried as he leaned on his training. “Don’t jerk the trigger,” he thought as he began to squeeze it back.
“BWAHAHAHA,” the target laughed and jumped down off the trash can. As Clarence’s mind tried to reconcile what he saw and what he believed the hand came from behind to snap his chin up so the knife could slide and open his throat. Clarence went black before he could process how Seamus shrank in front of him.
“I think killing Guildies is almost more fun, boss,” said the little man as he slapped the top of the can he jumped off of.
Seamus grinned and put the blade back into the inside pocket of his long jacket, “My friend, that just means its been too long since we’ve saved a pretty lass. Let’s fix that tonight.” He let Clarence flop face-forward away from him.
They walked back out of the ally together. In the poor light they looked like a father and son sharing a stroll. “No, my loyal little friend, this does not prove you look like me. It only proves that Guildies are either stupid or have very bad sight.”
