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Author Topic: ...ever so humble...  (Read 570 times)

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Offline joeyfxTopic starter

...ever so humble...
« on: May 07, 2011, 12:29:56 PM »
"Pull over, Monkey."
The black Cadillac came to a rolling stop beside the curb, steam blowing up from a nearby sewer grate just beyond the rear door, the reflective tinted windows obscuring the view of it's villainous cargo. The door opened up and a pair of Converse attached to the longest legs in Denver slid out. The white hosed legs ran up into a pink-pinstriped knee length skirt worn by a Monster; tattoo clad and cute as a button. Her red, black, and violet dreadlocks were piled and pinned atop a head that swiveled back to the car, face scrunching as she watched it's other passenger speak to the driver. She could just see that driver's jawless maw with it's hanging tongue and the beady eyes beneath it's chauffer's hat. He nodded to the lingering passenger who gave it orders in a deep baritone voice that gave her shivers even at a distance, though she couldn't make out the words.
Toxic green eyes framed in bruise black turned to Shiloh as she stood in the drifting white steam. Brutal hands with black painted fingernails and bulky silver rings gripped the door frame, followed by heavy boots beneath black jeans falling to the pavement. Hentai pulled himself from the Caddie and made his way past his Tzimisce companion, moving in long measured strides towards an access door at the side of a brick building.
"What'd you say to him," asked the living mosaic as she fell into step behind him.
"I told him to find someone and bring them to me," was his response.
"Why the fuck would anyone go with that freak-show?"
"Because they know that if they don't, I'll be coming for them myself."
He led her into the sewage system via a maintenance door on the surface, and from there to a series of tunnels through the pitchest of black. She knew he couldn't see through darkness completely, and his eyes didn't glow red, but she'd also note the way it seemed thick... like if she were to breath, the darkness itself would crawl it's way inside of her nostrils and mouth and settle into her very chest. If he hadn't offered her his ring clad fingers, she would have been lost in those  sewers for Christ knows how long. After some fifteen minutes of walking, and about a thousand "are we there yet, Harvey?"'s, they finally seemed to reach an end.
She first heard the scraping of stone against stone, as did the secret chambers other occupants. She could hear the stirring behind grated steel doors; whimpers and groans... curious whispers and pleas.
"pleeeaaase... pleeeaaase let me go..."
"hungry... so hungry..."
"master...? daddy...?"
"no... god no.... please god let me die..."
Shiloh's cherub voice began to sound, "Wh-" when Hentai cut her off- "Shh."
A few dozen dark steps later and steel grated against stone.
"We're here."
A zippo clicked and finally she could see where 'here' was. The master of this section of Denver's underground kingdom stooped to light a candle and rose holding the unornate golden stick, crossing to a kerosene lamp that he passed the flame to. It's glow grew with the twist of a dial, casting it's baleful orange light across the stone chamber. It was cold and damp, Shiloh's nipples poking against her tight white shirt as her curious teal painted eyes peeled from one end of Hentai's lair to the other.
"Well isn't this a piece of heaven," she commented on the grim surroundings. The chamber was barely furnished. A shelf sat off to the corner, it's contents clearly damaged by the moisture in the air, while on the opposite wall sat a black and white Fender electric guitar plugged into a tiny Peavey amp that must have contained a thousand batteries. It was to this guitar that Hentai moved, picking it up and loosening the tuner, unstringing the guitar until six strands of wire looped about his hand.
Her attention was drawn to a spool of black against the faint candle light stretching from beneath the table. It rose to Hentai, it's mass constantly rolling, folding in on itself, and against it she could see a slick movement. The man in black stooped to collect an empty mason jar from beside a tool box and unscrewed the lid. his hands reached into the stretching black mass, collecting the spider's collected from the walls as they traversed the tunnels. All form and fashion crawled upon his ringed fingers. He flicked his fingers, slapping his hand against the jar to shake them off.
The pain hungry sadist could practically feel the vibrations of his muscles tensing in reaction to the stings, his face twitching in annoyance. Once he had the lid on the jar, he held up his palm, sneering at the bloodless veins running black just beneath the surface of his pale skin, crawling much slower than the few stray spiders up his wrist and disappearing into his sleeve, but moving in the same direction nonetheless. "Yeah, you got a few black widows in here." Poison leaking from his fingertips, he stooped again and snatched up a couple of wrenches and a hacksaw.
As he passed, Shiloh saw something familiar in the corner and, naturally drawn to it, she soon stood before the rug she had 'sewn' for him. The guardian carpet of flesh made a guttural sound that cut off as Shiloh neared it, either afraid of it's maker, or uncertain as to whether to consider a Shiloh an intruder in the haven under it's protection. At the moment of the sound, poisonous eyes shot to the corner, his leaving his body and seemingly rising from the concrete around the woman. "Reminds me; someone was in my haven while I was away. At first I thought it must have been whoever left the package, except they left the package outside the door. That thing only howls if someone enters, right? So if it was going off anyway, why not just leave the shit inside?"
Shiloh's artfully sculpted brow perked with a look of overt obviousness. "Why not just ask it?"
"I can talk to it?"

"You can't... but I can." It was almost mocking, that sly grin of forced dependence.
He gave a snort and shook his bullish head. "Do your shit, I'm gonna go get the misery iron," and was off to do just that.
Knuckles fell upon an apartment door in a dank hallway. It would be a minute or two before the guy behind it had his dick back in his pants and his computer screen to a picture of anything but the illegal and immoral pornography plastered upon it.
"Hang on, I'm comin'!" followed by a mutter of, "I wish... fucker."
The locks unsnapped one by one before the door pulled open to the chain and a bespectacled eye fell upon the dry gaping maw of Monkey. It wasn't the first time the occupant had seen the man with half his face missing... with those utterly defeated eyes.
"Wh- Wh- what does he want? I- I- I- I've been good, haven't I? Look, I mean..."
Monkey lifted his hand, and though he clasped a note, he might as well have been holding a gun to the man on the other side of the door, who let out a shriek and stumbled backwards, the door catching hard at the end of the chain. The man realized his error and extended his shaking hand, taking the note and unfolding it slowly, afraid of it's withering words.
-Find me twins that hate each other in Denver. True hate. ETD: 2am-
The man looked to the clock amidst the clutter, his eyes going wide. "Oh Jesus! How- How- H-" He looked to Monkey through the crack in the door, but his gaze wasn't immediately drawn to the ghoul's ravaged mouth, but rather to those cold, dead eyes.
The car picked up it's tragically hip passengers at the same corner it had dropped them off. Monkey saw his master's fuming anger before he even applied the breaks. He also noted the monkey wrench clutched in one hand. Hentai had left with only Shiloh, but he had picked up some additional baggage for their departure. Items seemingly unrelated to one another, though each serving a distinct purpose to the Queen Bitch. In tow, though, was an additional passenger as well. A girl with her eyes low, with dark hair and plush lips... A girl in clothes too tight and wearing a layer of grime like it were body glitter who disappeared onto the cramped floorboard with an eagerness that was both frightening and sad. 
The driver's frail hand reached back, presenting a folded piece of paper; a printout from a news article online. He gave it a glance amidst Shiloh's clucking of "what's it say".
"Basically... Donny Darvis got accused of rape by his sister, Daisy. Turns out he had a solid alibi. Little shit flipped out when they said he was innocent, threatened to kill the bitch, so he was back in county for making a threat, but so's she for contempt. Whole point of the article though is that their parents were stupid enough to post bail and now they're both back under one roof again."
"Sweet! So, we're going to go there next?"
"Nope. We're going to collect a few other ingredients first. Monkey, take us to Mommie's."
And away they went...