The club the station clerk had mentioned is just down the street. Odd design on the outside, reminds me of a moselium. I head further down the street, near where Isaac had mentioned the cafe. I toss the empty coffee cup in the wastebasket next to a public phone booth. Don't feel rejuvenated, but at least my mouth's warm. It was good to see Sam again. Out of everyone left in my family she's the only one I never really blamed for what happened to dad, and I think she's the only one who never blamed me for what happened to mom.
I'll have to see her again when I get this mess sorted out.
First step on the road of being a nightmare errand girl, a run down internet cafe that looks like it belongs in the fields of Germany. I don't know what kind of people need an internet cafe, I always imagined anyone who cared about the internet had the money to get their own. I step inside and sniff the air.
Whoever it is, they love the fuck out of some Cheetos.
I head to the nearest free computer and don't bother sitting down. My fingers stick to the keys as I type and I hope to God it's Mountain Dew.
Ten to one I get jumped by a pack of thugs. Two to one they know what they're dealing with. One to one that either way I'm going to have to kill some people.
I head out of the cafe and hurry across the street, rinsing off my fingers in a public fountain. Not great, but I feel a little cleaner.
The Fast Buck. Goddamn Hemingway in that company.
And there's my man. I check the colt before he sees me, just to make sure it isn't stuck in my pocket. Not exactly a quick draw, and it'll be left handed, but it'll do. I should really get holsters for these things.
"Y-yeah? What do you want?"
"The tape. Isaac sent me."
"O-Okay. I-I mean, what? Who the hell is Isaac?! I don't know anyone named Isaac. Get lost, bitch!"
Jesus Christ, that wouldn't have scared me if I was twelve.
"Kafka I'm going to hurt you unless you give me that tape. If you take too long, I'm going to hurt you anyway. In fact, I might shoot out your kneecaps right now for making me take the time to explain that to you."
"Alright! Alright... S-sorry. It's just that... I mean, something is..." He pulls a cigarette up to his mouth in shaking hands. "Look, I just want out of this. Out of the whole thing. I don't want anything to do with that damn tape." He struggles for a moment with a set of matches before he calms his hands enough to hold a steady flame. "I'm not some kind of pussy, alright? I... I've seen people die, I've watched them get tortured, I don't... but Jesus... that tape." He blows a whiff of smoke lowers the cigarette, his voice breaking a little less.
"You see it... you see it and you know it can't be real, but it
is. God, you have no fucking idea... that girl... the things they're doing to her. It's like the god damn exorcist."
"I see."
"I watched... I watched some of it. Most of it, maybe, I don't know. Now... I don't know, something's after me."
"Something? You don't know what?"
"No, I... ever since I watched that movie, I've been seeing things. There's these awful shadows darting across the walls everywhere I look, I hear breathing when nobody's around, my phone rings and the line goes dead as soon as I pick it up." He shakes his head, taking another long drag. "I'm out. I'm out of this whole fucking thing. Isaac can go to hell, I'm not getting the other half of that tape for him."
Other half. Ten to one the half I'm getting now doesn't count as the favor.
"Fine, give me the half you have. That's all I came for anyway."
He looks surprised.
"I don't have here! Good god, I'm not carrying that fucking death trap."
"If you buried it in a crypt guarded by a minotaur and locked with four magical crystal wards I'm going to murder you. I'm not even going to be slow about it, I'm just going to murder you."
I point my finger at his forehead and cock my thumb.
"Bam."
His hands are shaking again as he takes another drag.
"Ginger Swan. Tell Isaac it's with Ginger Swan's."
"What the hell? Did you see that? Oh fuck, oh
fuck I'm getting out of here."
He charges past me, running straight for the ally. I could have stopped him, but I got what I wanted. Well, I got the only thing he had. There's a scream from the alley and I hear something metal drag across the ground.
You know, if I catch this thing now, I might not have to go digging for the second half of that tape.
I race around the corner to find an empty alleyway with a recently dislodged manhole cover. Metal dragging.
Party time! Who is excited for party times?
I am excited for party times.
I crawl to the end of the tunnel and find what must be the remains of my contact. Blood along the pipe, some in the water. I don't see the rest of his body, but if it left the pipe it wasn't dragged.
Nothing trailing to the left.
Nothing to the right either, just one of many four way cross sections. God damn it, I'm never going to find him or whatever took him down here.
At least, that's what I tell myself because I don't really want to go tromping through any more sewers. I climb back out the manhole and glance across the street.
Huh. Could've sworn that was on the other side of town. Hmm. Ginger Swan. Could be the name of a dancer, maybe the club matron? Wouldn't surprise me, I've heard worse names.
Not quite as dead inside as I was expecting. The receptionist watches me a little oddly as I pass, I suppose I'm not really a strip club's typical clientele.
Perfume. Lots of perfume. Probably not as much as it seems, though. I think my nose just works better now than it did before. Christ, how's that for a kick in the teeth?
Wow. This is... it's almost a kind of classy.
Bartender is probably the place to start, he'd know if there's a Ginger Swan working at the-
"A hundred clubs in Hollywood and you just happen to walk into mine. How's that for fate?"
Her voice is soft and low, but it isn't sultry like Jeanette's. It's... gentle.
"I..." I blink a moment before I remember what I think I was going to say. "...do I know you?"
"Apparently not, but... I think you will soon. My name is-"
"Ginger Swan."
"Velvet Velour."
That isn't right. That
can't be right, the club was... and she... it's too perfect...
"Ms. Velour will do. I was wondering if I'd ever meet you." She looks me over, eyes lingering a little longer on my breasts than the rest of it, but it doesn't seem... predatory, like when Jeanette did it. More like somebody admiring a sculpture. When she's done, she almost smiles.
"And here I was expecting horns."
"I don't-"
She glances around us before leaning in close to my ear, her fangs glistening under the neon light.
"I think... we... should get to know each other a little better."
Her breath isn't cold. "Someplace where we can... be ourselves."
Her voice is so soft. "Come up to my room... just... fourteen little steps."
Warm. She's warm. "I'll make it worth it."
"A-Alright."
She turns away and heads up the stairs behind her, glancing once over her shoulder before disappearing around a landing.
Wait, what the fuck? Did I just... I just fucking... what the hell?
And how the fuck did I get here?
------------------------------------
End of that mini update! I'm going to be away for a good ten days or so on Christmas Vacation so I'll try to get a regular update in before I leave Monday but I work straight through the weekend so who knows how that'll go. Also I clicked too many pictures while uploading and got my Left 4 Dead spray in the batch, so you're getting that too.
Guess who my friend always plays as?