literature

Between Fiction and a Fae Place Chp.2

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My feet beat against the cement with renewed invigoration, that wicker doll was my way out of this whole mess. All I had to do was find a dame. I kept one eye on my shoulder bounding from street to street Oberon's boys would be out in force by now and I needed more information. No shortage of information brokers in Arcadia, problem was just the fact you needed it was information…which they would sell. I needed someone off book out of the way and not on anyone's radar. My mind drifted to Candy Man's comment it was all manner of bad idea but any good one carried to many risks Oberon's influence ran wide and his pockets deep. The Mad Man was my only option.

It took me longer than I remembered to get to The Church of The Sacred Tentacle then again it had been years since I had been uptown. A disgusting building made of tentacles and flesh interweaved in basic structure mocking the real church that had once stood on the same ground. Complete with stain glass windows depicting the Old Ones: cosmic horrors sleeping but not dead and so much bigger then good and evil. A fresh coat of human excretion was on the steps as I trudged up the stairs to the inner sanctum. A small reminder that they don't burn heretics here.     

I made it into the inner workings it smelled like a rotting whale the structure holding damp still moving flesh in place was bleached yellow bone. The pews had teeth or were teeth it was hard to tell; the animal that had been slain or allowed its self to be used as structure never swam in our oceans or should exist in our world. At pulpit lazily flipping through a large grimoire made of human flesh was The Mad Man the Old Ones Avatar. After years of communing with them most of his humanity had been ripped away now only a creature from the black lagoon with tentacles where dreadlocks should have been, he looked up at me with irregular pupil from his book and waved for me to take a seat. So I took the seat that looked less likely it was going to eat me. I sat there trying my hardest to focus solely on my shoes. Even covered in crap it was the least horrible thing in here. He eventual lifted his head up again a smiled at me; his teeth had been replaced by suction cups.

"How long has it been?" My skin began crawled his voice still sounded like my brother.  

"Three years, give or take." I said.

"You and I had an altercation?" His tentacles began to move languorously rubbing against one another.

"You don't remember?" I asked.

He shook his head no. I didn't believe him but if he was willing to put our mutual past on hold, so was I.

"Best to just leave it in past then." I said. 'Anyway I'm lookling…"

He lifted a webbed hand and silenced me. "I know why you're here. I knew before you did. I knew before you got up this morning. I know everything it's what I do."   

A maw opened up in his hand it puckered and sucked in air reaching out to me. "My price hasn't changed dear brother, all the knowledge you want for all the knowledge I want. Is the location of one woman really worth it?"

I gritted my teeth, the last time I had seen him collect payment the poor fool was balling in a corner for six months and the information he obtained didn't help at all. He and his horrible maw was inched for me it breathed and whispered it apatite was peaked. I choked back down some vomit at the sight of it and was about to answer. However The Mad Man withdrew his hand smiling a horrible suction cup smile with a slipshod laugh walked back to his pulpit. After flipping through what was probable not the Necronomicon Ex Mortis but sure as hell looked like it tossed me a Trade some trashy tabloid crap from a grocery store checkout.

"You know there are other information outlets then the occult right?"

I glared at him and leafed through the magazine. "You read this crap?"

"Endless knowledge provides great power but little entertainment. I would use those internets but the floor keeps eating the installers. Turn to page three."

I flipped, on the third page on it was two page spread of Alice Liddel the new queen of clubs In Arcadia and her bar Drink Me. Along with the article was a photo of the bar with Alice in front she wore a pale blue dress a blonde knock out but then again weren't they always.

"Feeling less sure of Whitey, hard to miss someone…apparently this famous. I looked up to see the Mad Man back at his pulpit.

"He does seem quite mad."

I just glared at him, it took him a second but he gave me a curt smile and a head nod.

"Wouldn't let it bother you humans always expect the answer to be hard and the scene only really matters to those in it. I do so miss schnapps." He said eyes to the door.

He must have known then again he always did. Took me a second to hear them delicate steps not out of stealth but a delusion of grandeur, two Fae stepped into the "Church". They had brandings over their bodies glowing emitting a sic purple light each had a bowler hat cocked to the opposite side of the other. They were Brownies the Fae's bullyboys, punters. I was little bit impressed I warranted such measure of assassin.

"Hello, hello come, come let us all give tribute to the Black Azathoth, to the eternal madness let's sound the drums in the whispers of the dark." Mad Man preached from his pulpit.

"I thought this was a temple to Cthulhu?" I said slowly pulling out a cloth folded many times over again from my back pocket.

"Pff! That guy is so main stream."

The Brownies drove forward one rushed the pulpit the other b-lined it for me. They spoke terrible words of power it sparked the air, sour sounds that only those in the know understood. Mad Man spouted off a long precession of similar words except sourer and more toxic stopping the Fae words before they could reach us.

The Mad Man grin was malignant looking down from up on his perch. "You know old words, very old words full of time. Pompous words of misplaced superiority! The Fae were so pretty when they were young. Where are the rainbow colored wings that danced on the wind now?"

Both bullyboys growled their magic ripped away by a force beneath them and advanced again their steps never making a sound. One unfortunate soul touched the pulpit the floor beneath exploded in storm of tentacles restricting his movement. He cried out in fear and pain as he is dragged beneath the floor boards, yelling at The Mad Man in old tongues that no longer worked. The last thing he saw before the floor swallowed him whole was the Mad Man's horrible visage and the last sound was the floor going mmmmm happily.

As Mad Man handled his, I danced around mine his magic was gone but he was still a Fae with three feet on me. I ziged and zaged barely missing punches as I whisper an incantation I used when I had to move furniture.

The Fae and I were on equal footing I was out of shape; he likely hadn't thrown a punch in decades. Too use to seeing his enemies lungs exploded with a single word. Still an errant zag landed me a punch in the face sending me flying across the room. He walked slowly towards me giving me plenty of time to climb back to my feet. (His partner was being eaten not five feet away and still with the arrogance.) I spit out the last of my spell unfolding the cloth in my hand into long, elegant I might add cape. Spinning it around me yelling Toro, Toro the Fae smirked at me rushing forward clearly he had heard of my winning sense of humor. I stepped in wrapping the Fae in the cape then un-wrapped it sans one Fae.

"Pause for applause!" I yelled addressing a crowed that wasn't there only getting a slow clap from Mad Man.

"Nice trick but where's the Fae?"

I grabbed both ends of the cape turning into to a sack over my shoulder. "Right here."

I banged the sack against the wall, the floor, the pews anything I could find that was hard eventually deciding to just drop it on the floor and kick it till my leg hurt. I undid tie that bound the cap together and unfurled The Brownie beaten and battered golden bloods dripping from his wounds down his scars. Smiling down at him I plucked his bowler hat off his head on my own.

"Thanks for the hat." I walked away as he gurgled out. "You're still going to die."

The rest was the wrapping of tentacles chopping of a grand maw and the never ending growling belly of something bigger than life itself. Or he was pissing himself I didn't bother to look, my cap refolded itself back into a folded square in one hand and other had plucked the tabloid of the ground and was gunning for the door.

"Double M I'll be in touch." I said.

Mad Man responded. "I know."

I exited the church quickly, adjusting my new hat against the cold. In the span of a few hours I was driven up market had a target on my back that warranted the attention of a significant threat and now I was on my way to one of the beautiful peoples places Drink Me. It would take some time to climb that far uptown and public transport was out I didn't need to draw civilians into this mess with me. My mind wandered as a roamed from one street to the next. Whitey was unhinged that was clear. Was I handing this girl over to a craven stalker? Then again he was talking about a party and she was the queen of clubs. What did he say, what stood out? Think. Think! Oysters, tea, tarts, party. Not sure what oyster or tea could mean outside of an actual food and drink. But Tarts? Tarts are what the old Mafiosos use to call women, before the Fae hung them all by their entrails. Was Whitey a Sicilian name?

"Doesn't matter." I said to myself not believe it.
inspired by Simon Green's nightside story.

comments and critiques welcome.
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