“No, please!”
The scream seemed to ricochet off the walls of the large bedroom. The clouded leopard who was wrenched from her nightmarish dream sat upright in bed, panting heavily. Beverly leaned over and barely managed to grab the small wastebin next to the bed before she retched violently, the bile burning her throat. She laid back down with a loud sigh and debated on whether or not she should go into work today. This had been the third time this week that she had the recurring nightmare and the lack of sleep was starting to take it’s toll.
It always started the same, she was walking down a long corridor with several doors. Beverly would knock on each one and wait for a reply. When she got to the fourth door there was a feeble response, she’d open the door slowly and peer into the dimly lit room. The image of her father sitting at his desk would shock her for a moment before she would rush in. Bev would try to say how much she missed her father and that she was so glad to see him but all that came out when she opened her mouth were hateful words filled with malice. Her father’s face would crumple up in pain and anguish before he would drop to the ground, dead.
Beverly wouldn’t even have time to process what happened before the image shimmered and re-focused, replaced with a stark white room illuminated with artificial lights. Her mother would be standing on a small bed frame, the mattress ripped to ribbons to fashion into a makeshift rope. Her small hands trembled as she tied the end of the rope to the light fixture that hung from the ceiling, the other end was tied around her neck. She’d tug one, twice, three times on the rope to test her weight a bit before taking a deep break and stepping down from the bed frame. Beverly would watch her swing back and forth a few times, the life slowing draining from her eyes. Before she could make any sort of attempt to save her mother she’d be swept to another frightening scene. Now up on stage at the Spiked Tiger she squints into the room, the bright stage lights blinding her. A saucy tune is blaring from the record player and it echos in the eerily silent room. Bev hops down from the stage and into a gruesome sight, the walls are riddled with bullet holes and the plush carpet is soaked with blood. The dead and dying are sprawled out on the floor, most with a look of shock on their pale faces. Beverly doesn’t even realize she’s screaming until she’s wrenched from her sleep by a wave of nausea.
“And then I wake up.” Beverly finished with a sigh and tried to keep her lower lip from trembling.
“Ah, jeez. Bev that sounds awful.” Tanya sat next to the troubled dancer and drew her into a tight hug, Evelyn was watching the two from her vanity a few feet away.
“What’s goin’ on, girls? Dishing out the daily gossip?” The orotund voice of the newest member of their little clique held a bit of a teasing tone as she entered the dressing room.
“Good morning, Rameka. How are you on this lovely morning.” Beverly’s voice was sickly sweet as the memory of their last encounter was still quite fresh.
“Better than you, you look like you got hit by a truck.” Rameka’s face twisted into a look of distaste as she examined the weary looking trio of dancers. “If this is what you gal’s look like every morning you sure clean up nice.”
“Yes, well not all of us are blessed with peaceful slumber.” Beverly sniffed as she fussed with her hair. Rameka decided to ignore that comment and instead took a seat on one of the frilly ottomans that were in the dressing room. The three other dancers in the room watched her with varying degrees of curiosity.
“Oh don’t worry, I’m only waiting for Yury. I don’t want in on your little dancing operation.” Before any of them could retort a loud bang echoed through the mostly empty speakeasy.
“Don’t worry ladies and gents, Isaac Martinelli has returned! No longer will yous guys have to struggle on without me-” His speech was cut short when he was clapped on the back, none too gently.
“Well lookie here, never thought I’d see the likes of you ‘round here again.” The rumbling voice of the Spiked Tiger’s maitre'd resonated in Ike’s chest. He spun around to shake hands with Dee before the both of them made a beeline to the dressing room.
“I hope you girls are decent, ‘cause we’re comin’ in!” Ike threw back the curtain and was immediately embraced by his three favorite employees.
“Ikki! I didn’t realize you’d be back to work so soon?” Beverly did nothing to hide the surprise in her voice.
“You think a couple fractures and a coma’ll keep me away from this shithole?” He gave a warm smile as the dancers continued to fawn over him.
“I hear squealing of little bitch, Samka must be back.” The deep chuckle that followed had Isaac grumbling in irritation. Before he could complain he was pulled into a headlock by Yury, the tiger tugging on Ike’s antlers a bit before releasing him.
“I wish you’d stop calling me that.” Ike righted himself and threw a halfhearted glare at the club owner.
“What everyone sitting around for? I don’t pay you to sit on asses all day.” Yury waved his hands in an attempt to shoo everyone off. When no one budged his jaw twitched in annoyance.
“Ah, jeez. Yury, can’t we have a little bit of time to catch up? It’s Monday, and I’ve had one hell of a weekend.” Tanya complained as she rubbed her stiff neck.
“Yea, I bet you have.” Ike dodged the open hand that came flying from Beverly at his insinuation.
“Stuff it, Ike. I haven’t slept a wink thanks to these stupid dreams.” Beverly and Evelyn whipped around at the confession.
“You’ve been having nightmares too?” Beverly’s face was serious as she watched for the response from her friend.
“Well, ya. I mean really freaky kinds of stuff.” Tanya shuddered as she thought back to the dreams.
“What kind of freaky stuff?” The quiet question caught everyone else in the room off guard as they glanced at the wide eyed stallion who was waiting for a response.
“Like there was this one where I was watching a sacrifice ritual but when it came time to kill the sacrifice turns out I was the offering. Then there was one with this creepy guy wearing a skeleton mask…” She trailed off as the images flashed before her eyes. Evelyn had started to wring her hands in worry as she heard about these strange dreams.
“Okay, has anyone else been havin’ deese dreams?” Evelyn spoke for the first time that morning, her voice hoarse and quiet. Everyone else in the room shook their heads no.
“Well,” Rameka paused, debating on if she should reveal her recent troubles to them not sure if it was even related, “I’ve been hearing these really creepy chants at night, or when I’m alone. It’s like some sort of tribal hymn. Endless warbling until the sun comes up.”
“Oh no, no, no, no.” Evelyn had her head in her hands and was whispering to herself.
“Evie, do you know what’s going on?” Beverly’s voice had risen an octave as she attempted to pry information out of her troubled friend.
“Evelyn, what did you do?” The gruff voice of the achromatic tiger had the others glancing at him in confusion.
“What happened to you, Yury?” Rameka’s eyes were wide as she waited for her beau to reveal what he had experienced.
“Nothing, it was probably from booze,” Yury’s attempt to make it sound like it was indeed nothing was betrayed by the haunted look in his eyes, after an urging look from Rameka he continued, “Well, I was doing inventory last night and some guy appeared out of air and started saying nonsense.”
“Like?” Beverly was latched onto Ike’s arm like it was a lifeline.
“Don’t know, it was like static. Just gibberish. But his face...was...horrifying.” Yury’s eyes were unfocused as he was picturing what he witnessed last night. Rameka had made her way over to the large tiger and wrapped her arms around his waist, giving him a squeeze. Yury returned the hug, his face impassive.
“Eve, what’s going on?” This time Beverly’s face held an inkling of anger as she waited for an acceptable response.
“No’ting, Ike was dyin’. I had ta do sumthin’.” Evelyn looked quite reluctant to continue on with her explanation.
“Something like what?” Ike’s face had ‘worried’ written all over it, the thought that he was inadvertently the cause of this mess had his brow wrinking.
“I went ta go see T.ya. The Bayou Queen, she said she’d help wit Ike. Gave me some gris gris, but I tink I made a mess of it.” Evelyn had taken to massaging her temples as she tried to remember the warning the sickly lioness had given her.
“So now...what? Are we doomed to hearing strange sounds and having night terrors for the rest of our lives?” Rameka inclined her head in confusion, not sure what the consequences for a botched hoodoo spell were.
“No.” Evelyn bit her lip, reluctant to recite what has sprung forth in her mind.
“Well is this nonsense temporary or what?” Ike crossed his arms while he waited for a reply.
“In a way…”
“Ah, jeez. Evie, just tell us what’s going on here. You’re the one who put us in the mess after all.” Tanya’s patience was wearing thin.
“Look I dun recall all de fine print! But it’s no’ting good! I tink, since Ike was saved de Baron wants a…” Evelyn had to push herself to reveal the last bit of information, well aware that this might sever some close ties she had, “sacrifice.”
The unexpected shout of laughter had the group turning to look at the lioness who was doubled over, her lips drawn back in a toothy smile as a barrage of laughter came tumbling from her mouth. Rameka took a few minutes to compose herself, giving Evelyn an incredulous look.
“Oh man you Southerners sure love your witchcraft.” Rameka had a small smirk on her face as she watched Evelyn visibly bristle.
“Dis ain’t no joke, a chic. If we dun set dis right we could all be in a world of hurt.”
“Sacrifice? What does that even mean? What constitutes as a sacrifice? Does it have to be one of us? Or can it be any bimbo off the street?” Beverly was shaking her head in confusion as she tried to find some clarity in Evelyn's cryptic words.
“What are you suggesting? That we take any old joe off and offer him up to these satanic barbarians?” Ike fixed Beverly with a skeptical look at her insinuation.
“No, Ike I’m just wondering if it has to be one of us?” Beverly retorted in exasperation.
“What does it matter then?” Yury piped in, wondering where Beverly was going with this line of questioning.
“Well, I-I’m just saying that-If someone has to be sacrificed then there are obviously some people of….questionable morals that would be better candidates.” Beverly’s flowery words did nothing to mask the grim suggestion.
“And who are you to judge who’s ‘worthy’ of saving and who isn’t?” Rameka took a couple of steps forward, her intimidating height making Beverley take a step back though her gaze didn’t waver.
“Are you trying to honestly say you can’t name a few undesirables that you wouldn’t miss?” The question had Rameka growling in irritation as she looked down at the haughty leopard.
“Okay, enough!” Dee chose this moment to speak up, “Instead of us sitting around here trying to decide who we should offer to this Baron fella why don’t we instead try and find a way to avoid having to give a sacrifice?” The others looked at the stallion with realization lighting their eyes. Tanya turned to Evelyn, hoping the polecat had some alternative.
“Surely there’s something we can do?”
“Dere is no way ‘round da Loa’s laws. If we dun come up with an offering we’re all gonna pay. ‘A soul for a soul, no substitutions’.” She quoted the words her sister used when she explained why dark magic was so dangerous. The room went quiet as they all let that sink in, each wrapped up in their own little scenario of what it’d be like when the Baron came for them. Rameka was the first to speak up.
“I say Evelyn is the one that goes,” At the round of guffaws and angry shouts Rameka explained herself, “She’s the one who got us into this mess. None of us agreed to be dragged into this. I mean I barely know Ike, why would I have volunteered my eternal soul to save him?”
“You heartless trollop! Evelyn did what she thought was right at the time, are we supposed to condemn her now for an honest mistake?” Beverly’s face twisted in anger as she hissed at the indifferent feline.
“Watch it, Beverly.” Yury warned her, he wouldn’t tolerate anyone speaking to Rameka that way.
“Oh shut it, Sy. As if you’re judgement is worth anything with her around.” Ike motioned towards Rameka, a distrustful glint in his eye.
“What's that supposed to mean, Samka?” Yury’s upper lip was twitching, he was using all his willpower to control himself.
“You know exactly what I mean. Ever since you started shacking up with that dame you’ve been slipping.” Ike threw another glare Rameka’s direction.
“How have I been ‘slipping’?” Yury crossed his arms in an attempt to refrain from slugging Ike. After a long pause, Ike thumbed his nose and shook his head.
“Forget it.” The mumbled reply was barely audible to the others in the room.
“Yury-” Beverly had attempted to get the tiger to drop the subject but the club owner wanted to see this through.
“No, no. Speak freely, my friend. Finish your thought.” Yury’s eyes narrowed as he watched the fuming elk.
“You were supposed to watch my back si stronzo! Figlio di puttana*, you knew Sappo’s gang was looking for me and you said nothing! Not even a fuckin’ warning! Instead you stayed all cozied up with your little sexpot. I could have died, Yury. Man, her fica* better shoot fuckin’ rainbows or some shit for you to not even bother.” Ike finished his rant with a huff and for good measure flipped Yury and Rameka the bird. Everyone in the room was stunned into silence at the confession. Yury was the first to react, a flicker of guilt flashing across his face before it was replaced with rage. He drew his fist back and decked Ike right in the mouth. The elk’s head snapped back and he let out a grunt, before he could throw a punch of his own Yury grabbed his shirt and slammed him against the wall, causing several knicknacks to topple over on the nearby vanity.
“Who the fuck you think you talking to, huh?” Yury gave Ike a shake for emphasis. “I am not your fucking ‘pal’, I owe you nothing. Next time you talk to me, or my girl like that I will finish what Sappo fucking started. You understand, Samka.” Yury spat in Isaac’s face before releasing him, the elk stumbled a bit as he wiped the saliva off his face.
“Yury, you didn’t have to-” Once again Beverly was cut off by the Amur tiger.
“You shut your mouth,” He bent down so he was looking her in the eye, “I did not hire you to tell me what to do. You are just pretty face here to entertain my guests.” With that Yury turned and stormed out of the dressing room with Rameka hot on his tail.
“Of all the-he’s got some nerve!” Beverly huffed and started to pace. The ones left in the room gave her space, worried that she would plow them down if they were in her way.
“Bevvy, you know he didn’t mean it.” Tanya offered.
“Well how would he like if I up and quit? He’d be in a real pickle then.” Tanya had opened her mouth to try and calm down the riled leopard but she could see Beverly was beyond reason. It was then that the coyote realized that Evelyn was nowhere in sight.
“Dee, where did Evie go?” She hoped her co-worker had noticed the polecat’s departure since he was standing right next to her but he just shook his head and departed, mumbling about how he had some chores to attend to. Tanya was about to go off and grab herself a much needed drink but something caught her attention. She watched Ike rummage through a few of the drawers in search of a handkerchief to clean up his busted lip. The elk paused in his search when his hackles rose at the feeling of being watched. He turned slowly to lock eyes with Tanya.
“Yaya, what’re you lookin’ at?” His brows crinkled in mild irritation as Tanya ignored his question and instead reached for his rapidly swelling face. He tried to brush her off but she gently cradled his face in her hands, reaching in her pocket to grab her handkerchief and dab at his bloodied lip.
“What in the world is this?” They both examined the cloth with interest. Fear bubbled up in their eyes as they looked at the inky black substance that had stained the cloth. Ike turned away from Tanya and looked at himself in one of the many mirrors in the room, a shout of surprise left his mouth when he realized the viscous liquid was leaking out of the cut in his lip.
“We’ve got to find Evelyn.” Ike muttered, his voice tinged with fascination. He had a feeling this ‘soul for a soul’ deal had come with quite a bit of ‘fine print’.
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Not cool, Yury, not cool. Bros before hoes and all that jazz. X3 But in all seriousness I personally think spitting on somone is one of the most disrespectful things you could do (don't ever do that, really, it's just an awful thing to do). So now the gang has to figure out how to get out of this mess (spoiler alert, there are no loop holes in the laws of the Loa).
In another note I sad a BUNCH of swears in this one. :O But alas when Ike gets heated he's got quite the sailor's mouth.
*:
Si stronzo: 'You asshole' in Itlaian
Figlio di puttana: 'Son of a bitch' in Italian
Fica: vulgar slang for vagina