Prompt#16: The Ticket

Word Count: 653 of 750 MAX
DAY 16 Prompt: The Ticket

         Charles Butternotch stood with a smile on his face as the prison gate slowly closed behind him. Three years, seven months and four days behind bars and now a technicality set him free.

         His friends, the few that existed, knew him as CB. The rest of the world knew him as Charlie Butters, the Lakeshore rapist. He breathed deep. Freedom never smelled so good.

         He adjusted his suit jacket, the fit not quite perfect but good enough. He fingered the bills of money in his pocket along with the bus pass into town and the address of the halfway house where he’d be staying. He looked up into the cloudy sky, wondering how long it would take the bus to arrive.

         He heard a clicking noise coming his way and he watched as a light blue piece of paper slowly blew his way from down the road. It fumbled along the asphalt, tapping the hard surface as it bounced. A strong draft lifted it up in a sudden gust. It floated in large swinging arcs, spinning end over end before landing against his shoe.

         CB bent over and picked it up. One side was completely blank, the other advertised an event.

Admit One
Halloween ball October 31st
Prizes and free drinks all night
3332 Louis St.

         CB’s smile got even wider. Tonight was Halloween. This was his lucky day.

         It wasn’t difficult to sneak out of the house. Everyone would rather avoid him anyway. He’d gotten directions earlier that day from one of his roommates with a threat of violence if he snitched on him.

         The building wasn’t too far from where he was living and only took fifteen minutes to get there. A large man stood in front of an even larger door. Somewhere behind it, music thumped.

         CB pulled the crumbled ticket from his pocket and offered it to the gentleman. Without a word, the big man turned and knocked twice. The door opened, the music tumbling out into the night.

         CB tilted a nod towards the man and sauntered in without ever saying a word. It was dark and hard to see. He could barely make out the walls of the hallway but he figured he’d follow the sound of merriment until he could join the party. He almost smacked his face into the dark oak door. He ran his hands over the wood searching for a knob. The door vibrated from the music on the other side. He found the knob, almost hot to the touch.

         Ready or not, here comes Charlie!

         He turned the handle and pushed open the door. Something hit him from behind and he stumbled into the brightly lit room. The door slammed shut behind him.

         CB picked himself up in a huff. It took a moment for him to realize there was no music playing any longer; the room was silent as a church at midnight. Looking around he spied a lone figure seated atop a mountain of velvet cushions. The figure simply stared at CB.

         “What the hell is this? What’s going on? Where’s the party man?”

         “Charles…” The voice was deep, rough like sandpaper and made his skin crawl. “You are the party.” The figure stood and stepped off his throne. Only then did CB see the horns protruding from the forehead, the leathery skin pulled tight over thick muscle.

         CB tried to step back but tripped over his own legs, falling in a heap. “No way! What’s going on here?” He looked around in a panic, the whites of his eyes bulging.

         “A deal is a deal Charles. You asked for my help and I granted you your freedom. Now its time to uphold your end of the bargain.”

         “I haven’t had time to enjoy it. Give me more time.”

         “Sorry Charlie, times up.”

         No one could hear the screams coming from beyond the door. No one would miss Charles Butternotch.