Monster Blood Chapter Two

Chapter 2

“What the hell is going on here?” boomed a voice that made Franky insides melt and every bone rattle. Franky regretted every second that led up to this moment. His foot itched and he was tempted to take the only other exit off the roof.
A group of red eyes pierced through the night sky. Franky could almost feel each and every one. They were the color of the blood that pooled at his feet.
A posy of vampires stepped out onto the rooftop. Each of them wore the finest tailored suits that were neatly pressed and cost an arm and a leg; possibly literally. Their light grey skin and pointed ears were all too familiar to Franky. There were ones so tall you had to crane your neck just to see their face. Others were so big it made mountains jealous. The shortest of them stepped forward. Franky had to turn away, he couldn’t look him in the eye.
The greasiest slime ball found his way out of the trash heap. He only came up to about Franky’s waist, but it still felt as if he loomed over Franky. His black suit looked as if it might as well be made with angel hair it looked so expensive; and not a single scuff on his svelte frame. His eyes were so red they almost looked as if they were bleeding. There was so much grease in his hair you could almost see your reflection. His fangs were sharpened down to a fine point, most likely done by a professional. He was decked out in gold, each finger donned with a flashy ring, some with more than one. He even had one gold fang. If he could replace his blood with liquid gold, he would; but it wouldn’t take care of his pure coal black heart. It was him.
“Boss,” Franky gasped. His stomach felt like ejecting out of his throat. This can’t be happening, he thought, this just can’t.
“Why is one of my best men lyin’ in a pool of his own blood?” Boss said through gritted teeth. His accent was the thickest New Yorkan accent Franky had ever heard. It sent sharp icy chills up his spine.
“Boss, please, you got to let me explain.”
“And where the hell is Snake? I better not have to scrape him off of the ground.”
“He’s fine, just give me a second.”
“Stop speaking, it hurts my head,” Boss said as he rubbed his temples.
“I’m sorry,” the words dripped out of Franky’s mouth. “I know what I did was wrong, just let me make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me?” Boss sounded as if he might burst out laughing.
“Please! You know me! I’ve been good to you!”
Boss let out the longest sigh. “That’s what makes this so hard, Franky,” he said solemnly. His accent was slightly nasaled and just a bit sleazy.
Franky just stared at him, mouth agape. “Please,” he begged quietly.
“Please what? Just let this go?” Boss raised his voice, his fists clenched tight. “You know how that would make me look?”
“Like someone who cares?” Franky instantly regretted saying.
Boss stomped right up to Franky, Franky flinched back. “I care! I care about everyone here!” Boss yelled, jabbing his finger into Franky with every word. “But when someone goes behind my back and does what you did, I have to do something about it!”
“You said you’d look away! You said you didn’t care what bad things we did!”
“Yeah, like stealing gold watch or settin’ some house on fire, or at least beating someone to a bloody pulp. Nothing like what you did! And not just that, but you go and frame me as well?”
“What?” Franky practically shouted. Franky was taken aback.
“The words out. Us two are rowing the same boat.”
“I wouldn’t frame you.”
This had everyone in an uproar of laughter, Boss even smiled, and he thought he heard the skeleton let out a quick snort. Franky just looked at the group confused. The joke seemed to be lost on him.
“I find that hard to believe,” Boss said.
“Wait, what do you think we did together?” Franky asked.
Boss was silent for the longest time. “It’s hard to say when it was stolen,” Boss said as he started creeping around him. Franky kept his eyes forward, but he could still feel where Boss was. “Sources say there was some activity over at the Midnight Bar.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“What an odd place to dump it.”
“Dump what?” Franky asked, almost too afraid of the answer.
“I wonder where the other one is though. I wonder if that one’s still kickin’” Boss took a step back and seemed to take him all in. “What a story this is.”
Boss strolled up to the edge of the rooftop, now behind the two of them. Franky shifted uneasily, wanting desperately to see what Boss was doing. He didn’t dare take his eyes off of the others.
“We’re gonna take a little walk,” he said to the city. “You’re gonna show us exactly where it is. No funny business.”
“Where what is?” Franky asked, trying desperately not to meet eyes with Boss.
“Don’t play dumb,” Boss said so strictly it made Franky’s skin crawl. “I don’t like no idiots. Now, let’s go.”
With the snap of his fingers, the vampires closed in on him. All of them seemed much too eager to get their grubby paws on them. A smug smile leaked onto their faces.
Franky lifted his arms up in defense, his fingers twitching. Each of them did stop moving, but only for a second. One by one, they each pulled out tommy guns, pistols, and revolvers. Everyone was aimed at the two of them.
“No funny business,” Boss said, emphasizing each word.
Franky’s skin felt as if a thousand blades were being pushed into it. His chest tightened so much it hurt to even breathe. He felt violently ill, as if his stomach were being liquefied. Out of the corner of his now watery eyes.
Arms reached from everywhere, grabbing at him, practically ripping them apart. They squeezed so hard they might as well have been pulling them with their teeth. They yanked Franky’s arms behind them, twisting them to their limits. Franky winced in pain. Boss just stared coldly at him.
“I’m goin’,” said Franky solemnly.
The vampires forcibly dragged him off towards the exit. Franky took one last look at the night sky. It was clear. The fireworks had stopped. The nightlife was swallowed up by the stairwell doors. He should’ve enjoyed it while it lasted. Franky’s eyes welled up once more.

~

Franky closed his eyes. For just a moment, he could feel the music. The soft pluck of the cello, the up and down of the saxophone, the gentle rap of the cymbals. He could feel it place its arms around his chest and squeeze tight. He held his breath, never wanting it to let go. It lifted him up off the ground and rocked him back and forth tenderly.
Plucking out the rhythm, he started humming along. Quietly at first, then he got louder and louder. He could feel the music pulsating in his chest and yearning to break out of his throat. He opened his mouth, ready to belt out.
“Franky!”
That one word brought the whole world come crashing back down around him.
Franky tripped as if he missed an invisible stair step. No longer could he see the tranquil city. Instead, a hazy stream of smoke filled the air like a fog; it flowed along with the music. People filled booths dotted all over, whiskey in one hand and a cigar in another; their eyes half closed. They gave a quick one over of the group and went back to zoning out at the band. The band looked as they were about ready to nod off and fall right into the crowd. A barman eyed them cautiously and consistently, wiping away at a glass that was practically invisible by now it was so clean.
If only he could join one of the patrons and be whisked away to another world by the lullaby lounge. He doubted Boss wouldn’t be too sharing and caring about that right now though. Or ever really.
After being practically tossed down several flights of stairs, Franky cursed himself for that, they had been stuffed into a limo. They then spent the next half an hour in dead silence in what had to be the most awkward and uncomfortable car ride Franky had ever experienced. The whole time Boss’s red eyes bore into Franky as if he was trying to melt his head with his sight alone. What made it worse was they were smashed in with the rest of the gang, which made it hard to do anything else but sit and stare.
Franky had spent most of the time staring out the window, hoping that someone would see him and on the off chance just swerve into their car. A gun jutted into his side refrained him from pulling too much attention to them. Instead he simply took in the lights and sights as they sped by.
Then they were here, in the middle of some lounge Franky had never been too with a vampire screaming his ear off.
“Wake up,” snapped Boss.
“Sorry.”
“Are you?” scoffed Boss. “Alright, everyone spread out and blend in, except you, Franky, you stay close to me.” He practically spat that last instruction.
The rest of the gang did just that, going to separate booths and corners. They each tried to look as inconspicuous as possible, which was hard to do with a bar full of vampires. The patrons didn’t seem to notice though, that or they tried their hardest to look as if they were clueless to the fangs in suits. Boss headed straight to the bar. After a hard push from one of the other goons, Franky regrettably followed.
A few of the patrons sat hunched over looking as if they might bring back up their last few drinks. None of them seemed to even acknowledge the two of them. Franky wanted to grab one by the shoulders and scream for help. Boss seemed to see this in Franky’s eyes and pulled up his suit, revealing a reason not to holstered in his pants. Franky visibly shuddered.
Both of them sat down on the stools as if they were customers. Franky tried his hardest to act normal, but how normal could he be whilst sitting down with a gun not a foot away from him. He sighed shakily.
“I am truly sorry, Franky,” Boss said as he just stared forward. “For it to come to this, it’s not what I had in mind.”
“What’s gonna happen now?” Franky asked as calmly as he could, which wasn’t calm at all.
There was the longest pause; Franky felt his body cramp up and he couldn’t move. “I think you know, Franky.”
Franky fought back hot tears and the urge to vomit. “Can’t you just let me go? I can go in hiding.”
“It’s not as simple as that.” Boss looked over at Franky who avoided his gaze. “I can’t just let a possible criminal just roam the streets ready to strike again? Plus, what would Ace think?”
Ace. The name brought the slightest bit of comfort to Franky. Only for a moment. “He wouldn’t want this.”
“I’m the person who’s gotta keep the streets clean. If it weren’t for me, this city would be overflowing with all sorts of psychos and crazies, you know that.”
Franky didn’t say anything, he couldn’t.
A man came bursting out of the backroom who looked rather excited for some odd reason. His face looked shriveled up, almost dry. It matched the rest of his decaying skin, which was surprisingly all there. There sure was a lot of skin. The gentleman was way past pleasantly plump and verging on optimally obese. While his back as up against the wall, his front pressed against the bar. He carried it well and seemed to move as if it were all just air under there. He didn’t look half bad for a zombie.
“Oh, my, if it isn’t the prince of the underworld! What brings you to my humble establishment on tonight of all nights?,” he uttered with a gravelly voice that sounded as if he smoked a pack a day.
“Just some sight seein’,” was all Boss said.
“Oh, okay, I’ll leave you to it then.” He seemed to catch a glimpse of Franky. “My oh my, you sure look down in the dumps.”
“He’s just tired. Long night,” Boss said.
“Ah, a party animal, well, I have just the thing to pick you right out of that sour pool you’re wading in.” The zombie rubbed his hands together eagerly.
“We won’t be having anything tonight.”
“Won’t be having anything? Are you sure?” The zombie leaned in close to the two of them. “There’s slim pickings here tonight and unless you wanna go home with each other, I’d order a few rounds to pass the time.”
“I’d need more than a few,” the words slipped from Franky’s mouth. He suddenly forgot how to breathe. He pursed his lips as if he could suck the words back in.
There was a moment where Boss looked as if he’d make Franky eat not only led but possibly the entire gun. “Just leave us alone, would ya’?,” Boss said.
The bartender leaned back and crossed his arms, almost offended. “Well, lucky for you, we got more than just booze here. Can I get you anything to eat?”
“No, we’re fine.” Boss said as he gritted his teeth.
“Well this is called a bar not a chair, so you can’t just sit here all day.”
All Franky wanted was for the guy to just shut up.
“You wanna keep workin’ here? Then I’d advise you to shut it and beat it.” Boss growled harshly.
The bartender went a bit pale in the face and even backed up a bit. “Sorry, Boss, it’s just your buddies seem to think otherwise.” The bartender gestured his head over behind them.
There were Boss’s minions, about four or five to a booth. Each of them was stuffing their face or guzzling down booze or both. They acted like it was air and they had just come up from an hour underwater. They scraped clean dishes and emptied out mugs.
Franky couldn’t help but smirk, but quickly wiped it off. Boss on the other hand looked as if he was about to blow several blood vessels. He closed his eyes and breathed a heavy sigh that seemed to take a long time.
“Fine. Its fine,” said Boss. He didn’t sound fine.
“Well you want anything now?”
“A scotch.” Boss rubbed his temples.
“I thought so.”
Boss eyed Franky. “Make it two.”
The bartender nodded with a rather nervous smile. Franky was rather surprised and a little relieved. He wasn’t going to retaliate. If Boss was being generous, well, Boss was never generous.
The bartender placed a glass in front of the two of them, poured the liquor of the gods, and went on his merry way. Franky took a careful sip and felt the soothing burn glide down his throat. Boss chugged it all in one go, slamming the glass back down onto the bar.
“Franky,” Boss said a bit wistfully, staring into his empty glass. “Franky Delbani.”
“Boss.” Franky said a bit sorrowfully, staring at the distraught vampire.
“I know, Franky, I know.”
They both sat in a rather comfortable silence for a while. The barkeep filled Boss’s glass again. This time he just stared at the glass and twirled the liquid around. Only the soothing flow of the band could be heard. The ruckus of the others died down as they got their fill. The two of them shared a warm moment together. One that Franky felt would be their last, one way or another.
Franky’s eyes started to burn a bit. He caught himself almost falling face first into the bar, nodding off a few times. He checked his drink which was still practically full. He checked the clock. It was late. Parties were probably ending now. Drunks would fill the street and wake up in jail. Some were still grasping onto the magic of the night and partying like tomorrow would never come. Franky was stuck at a bar with a bunch of literal deadbeats.
The others still gorged on whatever sat before them. It was surprising the plates weren’t gone as well. They weren’t neat about it either. Shirts covered in stains of various food items along with somehow sweat. They were wrinkled and untucked, as if they all just had a quick wrestling match while he wasn’t looking. A bunch of empty plates were strewn about the table. They must’ve ordered the whole menu.
“Guess eating is hard work,” Franky said quietly. He nearly slapped himself on the face as he clasped his palm over his mouth.
Franky turned and saw Boss wasn’t next to him anymore. He scanned the joint and found Boss sitting at a booth over in the corner. He was enjoying a plate of pasta of all things. Boss rarely ate on the job, but he was known to only on very special occasions. There was also a second plate across from him. Franky’s last meal.
Boss gestured for Franky to join him. Franky walked incredibly slowly over to him, somewhat on purpose. It’s as if he was walking through water with his jelly legs and his lungs on fire. He regrettably sat across from the vampire.
Boss took in Franky for a long minute. He looked tired, beyond tired, as if he hadn’t slept in years. There was the slightest smile on Boss’s face. Franky didn’t join in.
“Tell me, Franky, why are we here?” Boss asked, pretending they were best pals.
“What do you mean?” asked Franky.
Boss sighed disapprovingly. “How many times have you actually seen me?” Franky didn’t move. “Eat up, you’ll love it, the man here’s a fantastic chef.”
Franky just stared at the plate. “I don’t really know, about a handful I think.”
“And in that handful, have I visited just to say hi?”
“Well, no, I don’t think so.”
“Look, what I’m trying to say is, this is important and because it’s so important, I need you to cooperate.” Boss paused. Franky’s body ached from shaking so much. “So, let me ask again, why are we here?”
“I don’t know.”
Boss smashed his fist into the table, just missing his main course. “WHERE IS THE GOD DAMN BODY?” Boss yelled so viciously it hurt Franky’s throat.
The other goons immediately stopped what they were doing and stood at attention like trained dogs. A few of the other patrons jumped and looked their way. The bartender quickly slipped and hid in the back. Franky nearly leapt right out of his booth seat.
“A body?” gasped Franky. His insides churned and were desperately trying to get out.
Boss breathed heavily and pinched his temple. “Yes, that’s the reason you’re here. This is it. Somewhere here you hid the body.”
“I hid a body?”
“Yes.”
“I hid a body.” Franky repeated to no one in particular. He stared off into the distance and his whole body went limp. The fireworks from before seemed to now be in his brain, but more sporadic. It was all static, as if someone had the controls to his body and was going crazy with the buttons.
He felt a slight squeeze on his arm that brought him back onto the boat from this crazy storm. It was the bartender’s hand. His was the only concerned face from the crowd of faces in the room.
“You okay?,” the bartender asked.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Boss said with a wave of his hand, shooing the zombie away.
“Are you sure? He looks about ready to black out any minute.”
“We are fine, now leave!” Boss’s fists were clenched tightly.
“Alright then.” He seemed more scared of Boss than worried about Franky. “Are you all ready to order then?”
“Oh right,” said Boss.
Franky’s mind flashed back to the vampire he knew for so long, now lying cold and empty on the concrete. He or it was probably buried in snow by now, unless Boss had him tossed somewhere. Maybe the bottom of the ocean. This was different though. This body would be less blood and more rot. Franky quaked at the thought.
He himself felt like a corpse. Unmoving and frozen in place, staring at the ceiling. Every time he thought of a possible victim, his eyes rolled up and he nearly passed out several times. A body meant it was a person at one point. They had habits and memories and a personality. Now they were just a thing, a waste of space.
Franky didn’t want to close his eyes and see any more horrid images of a murder. He also didn’t want to keep his eyes open and stay in this living nightmare. Instead he just cried. The tears welled in his eyes before dripping down on his suit, causing more spots. Boss didn’t say anything.
A clank of silverware brought him back down to hell. He found himself alone in the booth.
Boss was sitting at the bar once again, his hands folded tightly in front of him. He stared directly at the bartender who looked as if he had seen something truly terrifying. Franky didn’t blame him. Behind them stood the goon crew all lined up neatly in a row like marines yet they were far from it.
Their hair was distraught, their skin was shiny with grease, and their clothes were ruffled. It was as if they had all just woken up after a few rounds in the ring. They were just in an eating frenzy like hyenas to a zebra though. Even Boss looked a bit on the messier side, but he was so greasy to begin with, it was hard to tell. That’s just how the boys rolled, they had never really cared about appearances.
“Remember me?” spat the king of the vampires.
“Of course, sir,” shakily stated the zombie.
“And you know what I’m capable of?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Okay, so, do you or do you not know who these that fine gentleman is?” Boss faintly gestured behind him to the culprit, Franky.
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, why don’t you look a little closer?”
With a snap, the goons were on him faster than Franky could react. They snatched him up and out of the booth and dragged him over to the bar. There they slammed his head down onto the countertop with a loud thud. The room immediately started spinning as Franky’s brain rattled around. One of the vamps smashed his hand into Franky’s face, holding him down as he squirmed to break free. Another nearly crushed his fingers as they held his arms behind his back by his hands.
“How about now?”
“Oh, uh, well,” the bartender stuttered. He seemed distraught, as if he had never been tipped by a monster with a monster. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”
“His name’s Franky, Franky Delbani, ring any bells?”
“No, sorry.”
“And why not?”
The bartender looked to the others for some hint of an answer. He even looked toward Franky with pleading eyes. Franky tried to look as sorry as possible. There wasn’t much he could say without bringing out the wrath that was Boss.
“I don’t really know, sir.”
“Well, he’s apparently met you before.”
“He has?”
Boss scraped his fork across his plate which made everyone in the room cringe in pain. “I must be missing something here, because there’s something stored here.”
“Um, alcohol?”
“Don’t go down that road,” Boss almost pleaded.
“Something bigger, much bigger.”
A faint look of realization glimmered onto the worker’s face. Boss leaned in a bit closer, his look brightening up a bit. The bartender looked around his establishment, as if anyone else was interested and might be listening in. He leaned in real close to Boss.
“I got something you might be interested in,” he whispered so softly Franky just barely caught it. “See, I don’t know about this guy, but some other fella had a nice pound of beef delivered the other day.”
“Now, that’s what I want to hear,” Boss said. He lifted his glass in cheers and took a swig.
“Let me just close up shop real quick like and I’ll lead you right to it.”
“Great!” Boss turned to Franky. “See, nice and easy, no trouble.”
With a weak wave of the Boss’s hand, the pressure that caved in on Franky’s head was released. He slowly lifted himself up and away from the group, his head now pounding.
“While I’m at it, why don’t I get you guys something to eat while you wait? You all must be starving” said the bartender.
“Guess we might as well order something.” Boss said.
Boss listed off a few entrees along with some sides and plenty of drinks, then the others ordered their share. The bartender disappeared into the back. Franky hoped he would return with actual entrees of meat instead of the sickening alternative. Franky felt as if he’d pass out any minute now, he wished he would.
“Holding on there, Franky?”
Franky flinched so hard his knees banged up against the bottom of the table. “Jesus!”
Boss had taken a seat across from him. “Pretty worked up?”
No. I’m actually just peachy! God, I am absolutely loving this whole situation! It’s like a dream I never want to wake up from!, Franky thought. What he actually said was, “No, I’m fine.”
Boss squeezed into the booth seat with a bit of trouble, a good few plates in front of him filled with goodies. Boss never missed a chance to try out the local dining. Every time he had been on a job with the king of vamps, he’d always take some time out to sample the menu. Boss had always lived lavishly. With all the money he spent on fine attire and flashy toys, he also drowned himself in rich foods. It was really starting to show on the vampire’s small frame, his body now reaching the table while leaning back into the chair. All that meat was packed in tight into the glorious suit, the buttons were even straining. The others had eaten well along with him; each of his men nice and plump so he could flaunt his vast riches to everyone. Their flesh peeked out from under their clothes, buttons were undone, even some of their attire was ripped.
Franky smiled to himself, which he found odd but couldn’t stop himself. “Boss, remember when you got me my first official suit?” asked Franky.
The vampire looked at him as if he had had one too many drinks. “Why are you bringin’ this up?”
“Just passing the time while I still got some left I suppose.” That sounded sad, maybe he was drunk. He was starting to feel a bit droopy; he could barely keep his eyes open.
Boss gave the longest glare before finally easing up. “Yeah, of course I do, Franky. A suit makes the man and I was so proud to finally accept you into our home.”
“What was the fitting place called? No Strings Attached or something? Sounds a bit shady now that I think about it.”
Franky almost did a double take when Boss laughed. “Yeah, it really does.”
“Didn’t something go wrong with the fitting?”
Boss stuffed his mouth with noodles and rich alfredo sauce. “Apparently some people weren’t meant to work as a tailor.” After another bite, he stuffed in some more. “Not only did we re-check everything, but I made sure to triple check the numbers. Of course even after all that, they still got it wrong. Your sleeves ended being off. One sleeve was shorter than the other.”
“I think you might’ve been cross eyed.”
Boss took a big chunk of lasagna. “Hey, it was noticeable.”
“You got it fixed though.”
“With how much I spent on it, of course I did! I got the suit fixed and I fixed the tailor.”
“Fixed the tailor?”
Boss took a breadstick and ripped it in half with his teeth. “He doesn’t deserve the job if he can’t do a simple task right.”
“You fired him?”
Boss slammed his fork down into slice of cake and pierced it, the gooey center oozing out onto the plate. “Something like that.”
Franky stopped talking.
“So, what’s the situation looking like, Boss?” said one of the goons.
Boss dabbed at his face with a napkin. “The owner of the joints gonna give us a real good show any minute now.”
If Franky wasn’t nervous before, he sure as hell was now.
“Boy, you look a bit under the weather,” said the bartender. “Anyone ready to order yet?”
“What’s good here?” asked Boss.
The vamps ordered and had their fill of an extravagant meal. As they ate, the bartender circled the room and closed up any and all things that some people might sneak in by. Before closing the entrance, he took a peek outside, probably to check if any police just happen to be patrolling by. The police were probably extra busy tonight dealing with drunkards and the like. Apparently there was no one around. He closed the door, the backdraft bringing in some fresh green leaves into the bar.
All the other chairs in the joint were empty. Empty glasses and messy plates were all that were left. That and the people who caused it. Their suits were splayed open now, their juicy plump bodies now overflowing the booths.
There was a rumor that had gone around the vamps Franky worked with that maybe Boss fattened up his men for another reason other than to flaunt his money. It was said he wasn’t actually a blood sucker, but a fat sucker. This was always followed by horrendous laughter. Franky would always cringe. He’d imagine the few unlucky ones sucked down to just skin and bone.
After the place was locked down and secure the zombie wandered over to the two of them once again. “Ready when you are, Boss.”
“Great.” Boss struggled for a moment before getting out from the booth. His suit he had kept buttoned up, but the buttons were really straining, holding on for dear life. Boss was big, very big. Bigger than even the bartender which was actually saying something. His limbs were nice and meaty, like sausages packed so tight in his sleeves they seemed ready to burst. His belly was immense, almost reaching the floor, any bigger and it might drag and cause him to trip. Boss didn’t care, he actually enjoyed the eyes of anyone who gazed upon him. It meant he was wealthy and if there was any way he could show it off, he would take it. Franky had always admired his confidence. Most people would talk behind Boss’s back about his weight, saying it was grotesque or unhealthy, but Franky thought he had always carried it well. He looked good, handsome even. God, Franky, how many have you had if you’re thinking about Boss that way, he wondered.
“You boys stay here and stand guard.” Boss said, shoving his chubby fingers in his taught pockets. “If anyone comes nosin’ around, you know what to do.”
Some nodded in all seriousness, others continued indulging. There were a few others who remained blank. Franky noticed they were just standing in the middle of the room, perfectly still as if pretending to be a statue. What an odd way to stand guard. Franky glanced up to their eyes. They were full of fear.
Before he could say anything about the odd behavior, a pistol shoved into his hip told him to move on. They were led behind the bar and into the backroom. Just before they did, Franky swore he saw something move in the corner of his eye. The others were completely still, almost frozen.
It was dim in the back; lights were scarce and darkness flooded every corner. They were led down a flight of stairs which creaked loudly with every step. Each step down was harder than the last. It felt as if they were climbing down into a dark abysmal pit where they’d never escape from.
There were no words he could think of to say now. Nothing came to mind and if they did, he was too terrified to even form sounds. Instead he followed the zombie, the vampire digging a hole in his back.
Eventually the stairs ended much to Franky’s dismay. There at the bottom was the most cramped room he had ever been in. He was thankful he didn’t have claustrophobia, the walls were so closed in. A few shelves, a couple chairs and tables; there was barely any room for all three of them, especially with two plus sized gentlemen. They all crammed in anyway.
As soon as he saw it, the rest of the world melted away. Everything else didn’t matter, it was all a fuzzy blur. There was a table right in the middle of the room. There were no mugs, no drinks, none of the sort. There was a large sheet that was draped across the entirety of the table. It of course wasn’t flat, there was quite a bit of a bump underneath it. It was shaped like a person.
Franky couldn’t move. His lungs ached as if someone were squeezing all the air out of them. No matter what, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. His mind buzzed and banged around in his skull. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run, he wanted to be anywhere else but here.
None of them made a move. Each one of them just stared at the elephant in the room. Franky yearned for this moment to never stop.
Boss turned to Franky and just stared at him, like he was a child that just broke something. “Look familiar?”
Franky couldn’t respond, he couldn’t manage to move a single inch of his body.
“What’s the matter, Franky, you act as if you haven’t seen a dead body before.”
Nothing. If Franky could talk he’d vomit. Boss seemed confused by Franky’s actions and seemed to notice the pure fear in his eyes. After a moment, he shook it off and turned his attention back to the lump.
The bartender stepped out of the way and stood guard near the only exit. Boss slipped towards it. He soaked it all in for a solid minute. He breathed a heavy sigh and reached towards the head of the sheet.
“No.” A single tiny whisper escaped Franky’s mouth.
Boss pulled off the sheet.
Skin. That’s the first thing Franky noticed. It wasn’t grey, or furry, or even scaled. It was just pale skin. Human skin.
Its face was covered by a mask that looked haphazardly cut up. It was made from a felt material. It had a neatly stitched smile, two blushed cheeks, and two glass eyes. A doll face.
The lights went out.
Franky fell to the floor. He couldn’t move.
Muffled screams came from a world beyond. A moment ago, he had felt Boss’s presence, now there was none. Something grabbed tight of his leg. He then fell once again.
Down, down, down, and down some more. Before it was just dark, now it was nothing but the purest of darkness. He was limp and couldn’t struggle against the force pulling him down into the depths. There were familiar figures in the distance, so far away, they were dots. They weren’t moving except for down.
His chest constricted. He couldn’t breathe. His lungs were on fire.
The figures went blurry, then slowly faded away. So did Franky.