[DFM]

I exit the cemetery and head towards Isaac's jewelry shop. He's waiting for me at his desk.



"Certainly took your time, although I'm glad to see you're enjoying Hollywood. I assume the tape wasn't much trouble?"

"No trouble at all."

He takes the VHS and studies it for a moment before leaning down and popping it into a video player near his desk. "Let's see if this is thing is worth all the fuss." He turns to a flatscreen TV hanging against the wall. "You might want to watch this, it concerns you, too."



The screen sit blankly for a few moments, and I can hear the tape whirring in the machine. Almost instantly a picture blasts onto the screen, a woman tearing up a flight of stairs, strange noises coming behind her.



The noises burst around the corner, hot on her trail. They bound over each other and off the walls like meatballs falling up hill. The noises they make are guttural and savage.



The view switches to another stationary camera, and the woman charges through an open doorway.



Another camera switch. She runs down the hallway, the pack of monsters snapping and snarling tightly on her heels.



She closes the door of what must be a bedroom, leaning against it while the monsters try to pound through the other side. She glances somewhere past the camera and screams.



When she hits the ground there's another on top of her, tearing her skin off while she kicks and screams. The two of them begin to rip into her, eating the girl alive until her only movements are the jerks from their snapping jaws. The camera begins to fade, and a log appears over the carnage.



Isaac shuts off the tape and turns back to me, pondering for a moment.



"Hmm. More disturbing than I was lead to believe. You understand my concerns with this video now, don't you?"

"Certainly. I don't see why it concerns me, however."

"Around the same time this snuff film started circulating, the Nosferatu disappeared. I tried to elicit their help in tracking down the source, and for the first time in all these years, I was dismayed by their absence."

"And you think this film has something to do with the entire Nosferatu clan turning up missing?"



"Given the time frames? I assume it does; it's awfully coincidental otherwise. And those creatures... not many professional FX houses could pull those off and certainly none that'd be peddling low grade smut."

"They're not some kind of documented supernatural creature, then?"

"Certainly not. And, unfortunately, most of this tape's been damaged. If we can find out what's on the first half, we might be able to figure out where this thing was filmed."

"So we'll need another copy."



"And I think I know where you can get it. Behind the spit-shine gloss of the Hollywood dream factory, there's another city churning out a vile by-product for the furtive consumption of a debauched audience. There's a depraved little man by the name of Flynn, runs a smut shop called the Sin Bin, how he avoided a pun with his name I'll never know. He'll know where you can find a copy."



The Sin Bin.


Great.




No problems there.



Let's watch the criminal return right to the scene of the crime.



Huh.


I don't see any cops.



Maybe they're all already gone.



"Hey ya, hot pants."

I glance around the deserted store.

"What was with all the cops here earlier?"

"Awful thing. Somebody decided to off one of my dancers, were pretty messy about it too. Least it happened to Chastity and not one of the good ones."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's tragic and all but that girl barely earned table scraps. She wasn't exactly open to experimenting and there ain't many customers happy with a little fully clothed dancing."

"That's why everyone's gone?"

"Yeah, cops cleared out awhile ago, got pushed out the door by a couple of suits, don't know what that was about. Name's Flynn, by the way. I'm the proprietor, not just some cashier."

"And this place is mainly dancers?"



"Hot pants, this place is everything. Anything you want, you can get at the Sin Bin. Just tell me what makes your bits tingle, honey. I'll set you right up."

I need to be careful, no idea how well fishing for snuff, especially snuff like that, is going to go over.

"What kinds of things?"

He gives a salesman's half smile and begins railing off items like an auctioneer.

"Everything you'll ever need. Soft-core, hard-core, gay, straight, farm or furry. We got shockers, shiverers, self-lubricators and strap-ons. Chains, crops and canes are in the back next to the triple-ripples and that's not even half the inventory. Like I said, we got it all."

Alright, not working. Maybe paint the bullseye a little smaller.

"Any from Death Mask Productions?"

His tone changes instantly from the helpful salesman to the backyard conspiracy theorist.



"I heard of 'em. Why're are you asking?"

"I need a video they made awhile ago. A specific one."

"Really. You a cop?"

"If I was we'd be having this talk in a cement room with the cameras off."



"Alright, listen. I'll tell you a little bit, but if anyone comes askin' you never heard it from me. They produce only the most hard-core videos. I'm not even talkin' black market here, more like black-hole market. Every cop in five states and every bureau DC has been trying to track these guys down. Not the kind of product you want to get mixed up in."

"What kind of stuff do they have in their videos?"



"The kind of stuff that gets you put in jail for just talkin' about it, alright? Snuff films is just the tip of the iceberg. I only seen one of their videos, a-and I swear I couldn't eat for a week. They're bad news, pal. You want some advice from me, stop thinkin' whatever you're thinkin' and get your ass back to Kansas."

"That's not really an option. I've got half a tape they made and I need to see the rest."

He looks surprised.

"A tape? You mean THE tape? You've got a copy of it? Have you seen it?"

"The second half, yeah. Haven't seen monsters like that before."

Flynn shakes his head.





"Look, kid, get the hell out of here, alright? I don't want any part of that scene. I hear people seein' that tape ain't been comin' home for dinner. I don't deal in that kind of stuff anyway, so just take it somewhere else."

I lean forward, resting my hands on his desk.

"Flynn, I've killed more people than you know and most of them would give the boogie man a run for his money. When I find these high school dropouts I'm going to come down on them, Flynn, and I'm going to do it hard. The last you'll see of Death Mask Productions is when their bodies turn up in the news."

He shakes his head slowly.



"O-okay. If you're serious about getting rid of them... look, all I know is that a guy calls on the pay phone down the street every once in a while. He'll say something like, 'The moon is a terrible mistress' or some creepy shit like that. And then all you have to say is, 'who walks the night with demons of dread.' Then... I think... you get told where to meet a guy to pick up the product. I don't know for sure. I, uh... never tried it." He looks down at his desk like he's admitting failure. "Thought of it scared the shit out of me."

"Thanks Flynn."

I turn around and almost cross out the door before he calls again.

"Please, I'm telling you, lady... whatever you're in, get out of it now."



"Sorry Flynn. Once I'm in, I'm in."





God, I should be ashamed.








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Originally Posted by Riin Whitewind

I didn't realise Helen was a fan of Kate Beaton.

Everyone is a fan of Kate Beaton.

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