There were only so few places you could go for a quick fix. The most reliable were the clubs, the fetishists were always eager to have their sick dream of choice fulfilled. Angie was more than willing to accommodate the fantasy. Unfortunately, she was attempting to keep a bit of a lower profile around these parts. One had to keep her hunting ground and her hunting ground separate. She wasn't familiar with gangs hanging out in graveyards, but foolish children, lovers of darkness, those who fancied themselves wielders of witchcraft loved to hang out in them. She just had to find the right group.
The first thing she'd noticed upon entry was the fact that there were much more people than there should've been. Her eyes had long ago adjusted to the darkness, the moonlight shining down upon them, bouncing off the headstones. The people meandered here or there, but she could see them all eventually converge in one place. Before moving away from it and finding a nice dark corner to place themselves.
Curiosity was starting to niggle at the back of her mind. Her circles became tighter, the mystery dead center. She kept herself hidden in the shadows, pressed against the large pillars, crouched between the smaller stones. Coming up to a neighboring mausoleum, it was there from the cover of darkness that she got the first glimpse of what it was they were all going to retrieve. The exchange of cash for a vial of something she couldn't identify. She wondered idly if he was selling the drugs left in the lobby to these people. That would have been silly considering they were free to begin with.