 |
| Image by Igor Morski |
I didn’t start out some kind of superhero, bent on protecting New LA. My relationship with this city is love/hate. I’m definitely not her minder. But I do look after my friends. That’s what kick-fired this whole damn story. One night. A new job. And, looking after Cate.
The Blood in the Beginning - An Ava Sykes Novel
. . . by the time I was working on round two of the best mushroom
pesto linguine in the universe, Cate, my newly single BFF, had purged.
She even moved from victim mode to outrage, (all directed at the ass hat Joey)
and that was a step up on the emotional scale, in my book anyway. I took a
third serving and smiled. With a lifestyle like mine, which included martial
arts training on my nights off, I loaded up on carbs when I could. Yum!
After doing the dishes – Cate wasn’t one to leave a spoon out of
place – I had a quick shower, leaving enough hot water for her. While she
dressed in her ‘uniform,’ which consisted of very little other than glitter and
coconut shells, I opened the gun safe and slipped my Ruger .9 mm into my calf holster
and smoothed down my jeans. I was licensed to carry, and I always did at work,
more for the trip there and back, than anything else. New LA wasn’t really a
city of angels, not good ones anyway. Cate threw on a light coat and we headed
for the bus. I looked up and down the street, frowning. Something prickled my
skin.
‘Joey won’t come here, if that’s what you’re
thinking. He’s scared of you,’ Cate said.
'Good. The dirtbag should be afraid.' I was
going for reassurance.
Speaking of scared. Daina was our mutual acquaintance, the most
recent missing coeds in a wave of unexplained murders, at least that’s what the
press called them. Not all the bodies had been found.
Cate sighed. ‘Nothing.’ The bus pulled up as
we arrived at the stop. ‘Do you think she’s still alive?’
I shrugged. ‘Can’t see how, but we can
hope.’
Yeah,
that’s how the night began. Off to work at Club Poseidon.
Innocent
enough . . . but by midnight, not so much. I was in the elevator, on my way up,
I thought, ready to take over the door, but that’s not what happened.
… In the elevator, my fingers hovered over
the console. There was a dark smudge on the button below UP that hadn’t been
there before. Without thinking, I swiped it, bringing my finger to my nose. Blood?
As I did, the elevator kicked in. It took me a second to realise it was
heading down. What the hell? I hadn’t even pressed the damn thing. I hit
the UP button several times, but nothing happened. I was definitely going down.
The doors remained open. I flattened
myself against the side of the wall, unable to blink, or tear my eyes away. It
was a ghoul’s carnival, a page right out of Hieronymus Bosch. Run! The
command coursed through my body, but there was nowhere to go. I jabbed the UP
button again. Nothing.
The music bounced off the walls. Amid blue
lights and flashing strobes, naked bodies danced, gyrating to the rhythmic
beats, but that’s where any similarity with upstairs ended. People’s faces were
streaked, dark liquid dripping down their chins, and throats. Around the walls,
victims hung from chains. People? Mannequins? I saw some move, struggling
against the restraint. The far wall was taken up entirely with the floor to
ceiling aquarium. It must run right up to the club level, but ... this was different.
The unearthly waters teemed with sharks, in a wild frenzy as they fed on chunks
of flesh and bone. What were they feeding them? The bodies on the wall? Some of
the chained victims looked dead, some not; all dripped blood. It flowed down
their limbs into crystal goblets.
You can also learn more about Kim atAvaSykes.com, the 11th House Blog, and onFaceBook and Twitter. She posts here at the Supernatural Underground on the 16th of every month and runs Save the Day Writer's Community on Facebook. All Welcome.
