[Coat.]

Todd had been gasing at the seat in front of him, he had forgot the time. He looked down at his wrist watch.

"Where in the hell is Jack," he muttered.

Todd had been expecting an old friend of his who worked in the mines a few years back. Long story short, Jack moved to New York to invest in the stocks. He was in need of Todd's help. Jack wanted to meet half way, which seemed reasonable to him.

It was getting late and he had been offered many beers, but put them aside. He tapped his thumb violenty on the table and frantically scratched his forehead.

'It's hot in here'

Smoke from the smoke machine covered the stage were a band played. Todd wished he was out on the dance floor with all them beautiful women. He had no time for women but after leaving the West Coast, anything was possible.

A barmaid strutted over to him with a cold beer. She stared down at him and pulled a cheeky smile. Her dress seemed skimpy but Todd was in the mood. His eyes darted around her body; from her smile, all the way down to her frilly short skirt.

"I had no idea I was at Hooters," Todd joked.

She bent down and gave him the glass of beer. He couldn't help but stare at her clevlage.

"I wish," she said.

Todd continued waiting for Jack.

[glenn tha killer]

I hope the best man. My bro and sis are in similar situations although me, my Mother and father are taking care of them. I can`t imagine what its like alone trying to do it. Best of look man, I hope everything is as easy as it can be for your whole family and your grandmother.

[Dr-Mayhem111]

Vincent "Hulk" Jenko walks into the bar along with his brother Robert "Spike" Jenko. It is their first time coming at that bar, because they lived miles and miles away from the location. They find a available booth and they take it and order two jugs of Budweiser. They converse about their young days as soon as their drinks arrived.

"Hey Spike, do you remember back in '89 we would always go to the Jackson Corner Bar in Downtown after a big game?" Vin asked.
"How can I forget, our fake IDs worked everytime. I remember our last game, Lincoln Crusaders against the Ferris Mohawks. We won with 7 points ahead." Robert replied.
"2 minute warning, we were tied, we had one more chance to score. We called Python Path and it got us the touchdown." Vin said.
"I remember Davis was so confused when I hit that juke and pitching the ball to you giving you a clear path to the touchdown." Robert said.
"After that game they renamed the play the Hulk and Spike Tag." Vin said.
"Those were good times, and now look at us. Sometimes I wish I could time travel back to 1988 when that was rock n roll." Robert said.
"Cheers to that little bro." Vin replied.

The two remain talking and drinking at that same booth for a while until Spike wanted to put on some music. He gets up and walks over to the Jukebox and puts on Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N Roses.

"May the 80s remain in our mind until the we stop breathing." Robert shouted as he was walking back to his booth.
"Amen to that, I remember when that song came out. Tommy Samson was having that house party." Vin replied.
"It was a plot to get that girl ummmm what was her name.......... Veronica Zane." Robert said.
"She was one hell of a girl at that time, so hot and smart. She was way out Tommy's league." Vin replied.
"Tommy always wanted the hard to get chicks. Man that poor bastard, lets drink to him." Robert said.
"Rest in peace Tommy." Vin said as the two drink in Tommy's honor.
"The Party Monster himself had to end in a party.He was young and stupid but most of all, he was fun." Robert said.
"When I found out he died I was like, he probably died in a party. Turned out I was right." Vin replied.
"I just can't believe he OD'd on heroin. I never thought he would go that far." Robert said in a sad type manner.
"You know what he said."Vin said.
"If you can have fun with it, I'm in." Both said at the same time.

They continued to drink and talk about their old times.

[Mokrie Dela]

Jimmy wondered how people did it. Even his lighter version was horrid. He stood there as everyone else sat. Why don't I get a chair? It didn't matter that he had things to do, he simply didn't want to do them. He wanted to be at home, playing his video games, watching films, seeing his girlfriend. Yes, he'd somehow got a girlfriend, after six years of longing for one. Companionship. Relationship. Was there a difference? Apparantly not. How he'd landed he he didn't know. She was plain to look at - but that only made her more attractive to him. He eyes were always bright, even when she was sad. She wore the puppy dog look naturally. At times she'd look up - he was taller than her - and remind him of a Sand Cat, the wild feline that's self defence technique was an overflow of cuteness, their heads slightly too large for their bodies, their posture so child-like. They looked like kittens, despite being fully grown. Somehow he'd picked that human Sand Cat up. She was petite with a nice body - not toned, but not fat. Her skin so smooth....
And his job, he'd landed that with the same inexplicable luck. God knows how, but he did sixteen hours a week. It was enough for him, though she always wanted more. More money, more hours. Why did eveyone demand that people had to waste ninty-nine percent of their life at work? Who's life was it after all?

He watched the girl as she walked around, eventually heading in through a door and out of sight. A drunk man followed, his tongue practically on the floor.
I don't blame you pal. Although he had a girlfriend, and regularly stripped her to make love to or to f*ck - there was a difference - he still looked at other girls. He wished it wasn't taboo to sleep with any girl you saw while in a relationship. He wanted everyone. The clothes they wore didn't help, though he wouldnt want them to cover up. Working in a bar only made it worse. Would he get fired if he took some of these girls out back, in more ways than one?

Someone ordered a drink, to Jimmy's disgust. He was getting paid for it but he didn't want the work, just the money. On bad days he deliberately messed with people's drinks.
"A beer and a white wine spritzer." Sure thing, pal. Here's your beer, and for the lady, wine, lemonade and vodka. A few of these and she'll be all over you. It never occured to him that he should mess with both drinks - actually, no it had. He now eyed the couple, the blonde who really had no point in wearing that top, her tits were pretty much out anyway, and those shorts were so short they served no purpose. She was drunk, kissing and - oh come on! Her hand was now touching his crotch under the table. Jimmy could see the man's pants buldge. Why can't that be me!?

Another customer, another drink another sigh. He checked the time. half hour till he's done. He wondered if he could pick up any of these drunk girls. F*ck knows he never had a chance with the sober ones.

Where did that stripper girl go? No one identified the look in his eye, the overpowering lust that often made him contemplate one of the worst crimes a man can commit.

[Greenline]

Patricia felt relieved. She managed to escape from Marlon, but she knew she would not be able to escape the trauma that came with it. She sat on a rather old chair next to Marlon's unconscious body and took out her cellphone.

"Did you see that?!", she said without waiting for a greeting.

"Yes we did, Patricia. We -", he was interrupted, "So, why the f*ck don't you come and help? Isn't this why I have a camera?"

"Because that would have compromised us. That is not how we work!", followed a loud sigh. "Do what you have to do. Make it look like an accident. Get out and focus."

"Easy for you t - ...", the man hung up.

Patricia began to dress as she mumbled what seemed like every single profanity in the English language. She placed a random bottle of rum in Marlon's hand. Hoping that he'd think he'd drunk to much. Hoping that he forgot.

Patricia left the dressing area and entered the back room...

Current Position: Backroom.

[Mokrie Dela]

The woman danced in front of him, her hair leaving trails of color as it waved. Suddenly the image faded, and all that remained was a horrible feeling in his gut. His eyes opened in the dark room and he sat up. He felt ill... like...

Jimmy was watching the couple leave, wishing he could be in that man's shoes. He never questioned why he wanted to have sex with every woman he saw. He assumed he just had a high sex drive.
But once again his inconsiderate job got in the way. The door to his right flung open and a man ran out. Immediately he stopped and stepped back, as if he'd run into an invisible wall. Jimmy didn't laugh. The man shook his head and began to act drunk. Yeah, right pal.

Marlonwas hit by the lights, as they tore holes into his eyes. He'd no idea where the rum had come from - he hated the stuff - but right now he was about to sh*t himself. He stumbled into the blinding haze and managed to find his way to the bathroom.

Twenty Minutes, Jimmy said to himself as the man exited the bathroom, looking pale. What the f*ck did you eat?!
The bar door opened and another woman entered. Jimmy had to exercise some self control to not start drooling.

"So this is where you hang out, is it?" The woman looked pissed - at Marlon. The words sounded like overdriven bass coming out of cheap speakers. Distorted. Growley.
"Keep it down..." Marlon tried to say calmy. His voice was harsh, his throat dry. He waved at the barman and asked for a drink of water.

Water? In a goddamned bar!? Give me a break! But Jimmy got the man a glass anyway. He hadn't served him before, but he'd seen the man there, paying no mind to him. Now the man downed the free water - free! - as Jimmy stared at the woman.

"You just don't care do you?" Why the hell was she here?
"Leave me alone." Marlon whispered. Suddenly he felt drunk again. He didn't know it but the spirits had fermented in his stomach, the water diluting them and making him drunk again. Drunk and hungover. "You don't need to tell me - i know what i did, i was wrong, ok? I don't deserve to - "
"Wrong?! Wrong!? You were more than wrong! God Damn it Marlon, that's all you can say? I've spent the last week trying to find you. Somehow i keep missing you at work."
That's deliberate, Marlon didn't say. He was avoiding her. But the glimmer of hope was there. Was he forgiven?
No:"I've been to the police. They're looking for you." Marlon wasn't stupid enough to think this was a good thing. She wasnt giving him a chance to flee, she was giving him a chance to be scared. Time to answer up to things.

Jimmy's job was back. He had to end this didn't he?
"Ma'am, I'm sorry but could you keep it down? I don't care what's going on but take it outside yeah?"
"Forget it, I'm done here. See you in hell, Marlon."
The woman stormed out and Marlon merely sat on a stood. The patrons turned back to their drinks.
Jimmy looked at the time. Close enough. He exited the bar and began to follow the woman. Five seconds later, Marlon did the same.

[shiva s]

I think, I'm the late one here.
Tom Chist decided to get in combat with the guy who was following him for almost a hour but on seeing the sheriff standing near the entrance of the bar, he abandoned his SUPER HERO intentions. He decided to have a drink in the bar so he approached the bar. He stepped in. People seemed to have fun inside. No one seemed to care about his arrival. He walked towards the bartender and took a seat. He looked back to check if the man's still following him. As he had expected, the man was staning near the pool table staring at Tom.
"what would you like to have, sir ? " The Bartedner asked.
"Beer" Tom replied.
The Bartender pulled out a beer bottle from the fridge and gave it to Tom. Tom gulped down the beer and looked back again. The man was still staring at Tom. Tom placed the bottle on the table and stood. He wanted to get in a brawl with the man but the rules of the bar came to his mind. A plan came to his mind. He looked are around for a toilet and saw the ground floor toilet. He took a deep breath and walked towards the bathroom. He looked back again. The man was already on his move towards the bathroom.
"Yeah, get your ugly dick in here" Tom thought and stepped into the bathroom and waited for the man.
Last seen in: Ground floor bathroom

[AceRay]

Well, back here again. Lets get this going again!
-
A hazy mist overlays the gloomy 50s street, casting dark figures and ghostly shadows. Sweet shops and groceries line the road, lampposts every hundred feet and a sleek new Cadillac rolls down.

All Elmo can see are the Bachman twins, leaning against their shiny Black Buick, laughing as they fiddle with their switch blades and comb their greasy hair. Elmo always thought they were tossers, always shouting for attention. When he was 14, they were stealing hubcaps daily, bragging about it to their mates. Lyle, the slightly taller, better looking one, told a few tales where he was the hero and Joe chortled in unison, his round face jiggling with every laugh. And here they were again, like Elmo always remembers them to be, leaning against the Buick.

Elmo never took their boasts seriously, that is, until September 1958. After a few stints in jail, the dui got into B&Es quite a bit. Take little something here, a little something there, just for laughs. Elmo pitied their criminal lifestyle, although as he was just a shop clerk, he wasn’t much better off. They ignored him and he ignored them until they decided to break and enter the wrong house.

The Snow family heirlooms were gone. Mother’s rings and jewellery were nowhere to be seen. She was in shock, had a fit. It made Elmo very, very mad. So one day, he pulled out his dad’s pistol and aimed to get back at them.

That’s where he saw them. On that street, laughing and singing without a care in the world. Elmo, wearing his coat and working pants, strolled over to the pair, the gun in his pocket. Lyle saw him immediately, approached.

“What you doing here, twinkle toes?” Elmo shot Joe right after he said those words. Lyle screeched in panic and turned to run but got shot down, hitting the side of the car. Elmo, stood there, looking at the bodies, hearing police sirens in the distance. Then, everything went dark.

As Elmo woke up, he saw a dark figure standing over him. He couldn’t see who it was and squinted his eyes to see...

[Greenline]

Patricia left the back room and made her way to the front door of the bar. She opened the squeaky old door and entered the street.

"Why're you leaving, sweetheart?", she heard a blond tattooed girl say as she exited.

"sh*t, sh*t, sh*t. They will not like this, they won't like this at-f*cking-all", she thought.

She entered her car and took a quick look into her mirrors while adjusting them. She saw the bartender, Jimmy, enter a cheap Ford Fiesta.

"f*ck, is he following me now?", she said out loud while deciding what to do.

She started the car and drove off, hoping to loose the bartender somewhere in this damned city. The well built woman made drove towards an intersection, hoping to find her way to her Hotel before the clock hit 12. She wanted to make sure that they wouldn't force her to stay in this sh*thole. Sinatra had to be taken care of by some other poor sack of sh*t, this one definitely couldn't do it, and she didn't want to either.

Another quick look in her mirror revealed the Fiesta right behind him.

"He's not even trying to hide from me either.", she mumbled. "Who the f*ck is he? Why the f*ck is Marlon here?"

Tears collected in her eyes. She kept repeating to herself how this will all be over soon. But she was overwhelmed, and she was *this* close to breaking under the amazing amount of pressure put on her fragile shoulders. She wanted out, but it was too late.

Current Position: Redstone Street, in her car.

[Mokrie Dela]

That ass! Jimmy said to himself, watching the peaches swaying in the man-made twilight. It had been raining, and her footsteps had that wet click-clack to them as her heels met with the pavement.
Her figure was subtle, but no less sexy. He'd seen her cleavage, and imagined placing himself in between them, both facially and more primitively. The images that flooded his mind did little to dampen his appetite. Soon though, his meal would be in front of him.

Marlon could just about see the man ahead - he had fallen back too much. He knew he was a bad man, he knew he was not worthy of redemption, but he was still human. He might have been the worst person in the world, but he still loved her.

Her choice was the wrong one. The train station was near, Jimmy knew, but instead of walking the four minute journey to the front entrance - the safer route - she'd elected to cut through an alleyway, cutting three minutes off of the journey. But that meant going down that architypical alleyway, then a small empty lot, through a foreboding subway under the rail.... Perfect


Her scream was muffled by his hand, and her skin felt silky smooth. So cold. His fingertips touched the flesh with the respect she deserved - such a pretty thing shouldnt be mishandled. His breathing became unsteady, his body tingling with excitment.
Her avoided her eyes, knowing that they contradicted the image of beauty in front of him. She was beautiful, and she had to be his.

Marlon had lost them. They'd turned a corner and disappeared. He stood there, looking around, remembering where they - she - lived. Too far to walk... The train... Wait....

The breasts were as perfect as he'd imagined. As the bra was torn apart, they didn't fall down. They stood proud, teasing him. come get me. He did, leaning in with his mouth first before stroking her skin, blue under the night-time light.

Marlon had hurried down the alleyway. She wasn't that foolosh was she? Where was that barman?

It took his breath away. The warmth surrounded him at once, the silky wetness was welcoming, but the eyes were shut. His body shuddered and he rested his hand on her flat stomach. He stroked, feeling the perfect skin under his fingers, moving slowly, every act sending chills up his spine. She was naked now, and his fantasies of her grooming weren't far off. His heart was pounding, his body on fire. Dinner was served.

Marlon couldn't believe it. That man was doing that to her?! His feet now moved with speed, his hands no longer reaching for redemption, but for something else.

His eyes shut, he felt his meal slip away. Suddenly he cold feel the wind on him. He opened his eyes as he hit the ground and was aware of the man who'd tackled him.
Marlon stumbled to his feet, but Jimmy was quicker. He had grabbed her now, and was holding her by the throat with one hand. The other hand held something....

Jimy was angry. How dare this man interupt his feast?! What right did he have to do so?

"Let her go." Marlon said, his voice weak and his attempt to free her feeble.

"No..." Jimmy's voice was smooth and low. Almost devoid of emotion, despite the rage that was burning within. His knife-weilding hand stroked her breasts, tracing a line to her navel and even further.

Marlon lost it as the man's fingers disappeared. "You bastard!"
It was a mistake...

[Typhus]

"Hello?" Archie barked quietly.

The Crying Man was breathing, he could smell the stink of his breath from a mile away, as well as the popping bowel movements that made the entire room reek of rotten eggs.
Archie nudged the mans face with his nose but the man only slobbered and winced.

"And they call us 'animals'." He chuckled, moving around the tiled floor in a nervous circle.

Usually, his nightly routine would have kept him firmly in the main room, he would sit there staring daggers at his masters throat until sleep released him of this duty. But that cat had gotten to him.
He didn't want to admit it, especially as he seriously doubted the existence of the cat at all. But the vague promise of Tigger The Disembowelled Ghost-Cat had stirred something inside him. Hope? Was that it? Hope?
He supposed it was, the promise of getting back his old life, his old status held a lot of weight. Archie was not a fool, he understood that his old life only led to an early grave but in that regard both dogs and cats shared an affinity. They were beats of the night, howling at the moon, screaming in ecstasy in alleys as the apes slept, dancing through traffic, killing rivals, living by their own rules - and eventually dying by them.
That's what he wanted, that was the life he wanted back.

Then why were you just checking on that human? A voice inside asked him.

He looked at the man again. Noting the flayed collar of his clothes, the scabbed over cut on his forehead, the tired mouth beginning to form the jowls of middle age and steady decline.
He walked over to the Crying Man, bent his head towards his face and gently licked the wound.

"Means nothing." He grunted.


Suddenly he shuddered, his white fur offering no protection against the chill which spread from his nose to his tail.
From inside one of the toilet stalls there came a gurgle, the sound of water moving and bubbling, the thud of a toilet seat being thrown open.
Splat!
Something fell on the floor, something damp and heavy. And slowly there came rustling footsteps that faltered clumsily as though unused to walking. The toilet door moved to open and Archie felt his mouth draw back in a snarl.
Something emerged from behind the filthy door, Archie saw four feet lurch forwards and instantly knew it was a cat. But as its head peeked out, he saw no ears, no eyes and no fur. There was only a blue plastic bag, stained black with old blood and drawn tightly around the tabby cat's neck.
It walked into the light and seemed to wobble for a moment before turning towards him.
Archie saw with disgust that there was no tail, only a rotten patch of dead flesh. A sagging, putrid used condom hung limply from its backside.
Archie looked at the beast, still snarling, and knew that it could see him, bag or no bag.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"I was loved." The cat replied, its voice low and mournful, the blue bag wheezing in and out with every word. "I had a name and a family and a life."

Swallowing his disgust, Archie flashed an uneasy grin.

"One of Tigger's mates?" He laughed joylessly. "Here to give me a guilt-trip, no doubt. Well, do your worst. That pretentious twat's been nagging me for ages and I still don't give a sh*t."

"You didn't kill me." The cat replied.

Secretly, he felt some relief at this. His nerves were jangled enough without the ghosts of the past emerging to play with his mind. But then, why was he here? What relevance did this creature have to what Archie was supposed to do?

"What do you want?" He asked.

The cat sighed, its entire body dripping with toilet water.

"Things had been different back then, he was young." The cat began. "I wasn't even his first. Can you believe that? I wasn't even his first. He actually whispered into my ear about all the others he'd killed. Called them whores."

Archie said nothing.

"I lived with his step-sister. She was a good girl, bright for her age and kind too. The boy hated her, hated her happiness. It's only now that I understand that hate is all he can really feel. Hateful love, hateful lust, hateful joy. I was only small, I couldn't stop him from tying me up, he taped up my mouth so I couldn't even scream when he dumped me in his backpack."

The cat started to slouch and shook its head.

"There was an old field near his house, people barely went there once it became too overgrown to walk through. But he knew the land, he could slighter past the thorn bushes and navigate the ditches. He did it often, it was his killing field and he knew every inch of it. He took me to a clearing and dumped me on the ground."

"What did he do?" Archie whispered, a knot of dull pain forming in his stomach.

"He beat me." The cat muttered. "He tortured me. He violated me. And when there was no more enjoyment to be had, he took out his step-fathers hammer and caved in my skull. The boy took me to a public toilet and tried to flush me away, like a goldfish. But when he realised that I wouldn't go down no matter how much he stomped and pushed, he ran away. My girl never found out, you know. She never found out what happened to me. She thought I left her."

Archie stared for a moment, silent, dumbfounded.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked, recovering himself.

"Because he's waiting for you." The cat replied.

The words lingered between them, the silence looming overhead like a vengeful spirit.

"Because he can't stop himself." The cat continued, starting to stumble back into the toilet cubicle.

"Because this is the only way you'll ever find peace."

"Waiting for me?" Archie growled. "Where?"

He saw the cat enter to the cubicle but didn't dare move any closer.

"Where?" The cat answered, his voice becoming fainter. "He waits with the rats and the maggots, he waits in the dark with the dark things, the Rotten King crouched in his Rotten Throne, waiting for you and whatever judgement awaits the sick and the lost."

"What do you mean?" Archie barked madly. "Where is he? How will I know him?"

But the cat was gone.

This post has been edited by Typhus on Thursday, Dec 20 2012, 23:03