Warning(s): Language, Violence, and Sexual Themes

Girl was in the car with PomPom. And Kurt. And Uncle Roy.

He was sitting next to her and close like he always did, but he was more close today. It was weird. She didn't move away though. There wasn't enough room and he got mad when she moved too much. So she stayed and looked out the window.

The outside was different too. Water came after her, but didn't touch her. Instead, all of it hit the glass in little dots. Each beat made her get sleepy. But the mean shaking in the sky kept her awake too. Beats and shaking. Beats and shaking. Beats and shaking. Beats and sha--

"Nap, Girl," Roy said while nudging Girl. It was a soft nudge that Girl wasn't used to. Her face got real hot as her head words spun around, confused. She hated being confused and being confused about Roy was never good. Uncle Roy did things the same and she liked it that way. It was easier to obey him like that.

But not now. He sounded softer and didn't look at her. He was watching the wet dots too.

A small sound hurt Girl's throat and she squeezed PomPom tight, feeling sad mad. She hated feeling sad mad. Roy could tell she was sad mad, but he still didn't look at her. His pines and oaks smells got bigger as he put an arm around her and pulled her into his side. Now there was sweat to smell too. In his armpit. But again, his touch was soft and different.

"W-wh... why," Girl said.

"Don't make me say it again." Uncle Roy put his hand over Girl's eyes and took the wet dots away. She wanted him to take away the sky shakes too, so she could stop shaking with it. But he didn't. "Sleep, Girl. You'll need it."

Need? Girl only needed sleep and PomPom and food. But this wasn't sleep; this was a nap, just like Roy said. Her head got hotter and hotter, but she didn't know if it was from the sad mad or his armpit.

But she was a good girl, so she obeyed.

It was dark from Roy's hand, but it got more dark when she closed her eyes.

Girl tried to remember that H is for h-ho... ho...

}:{

"Land Ho," Kurt drawled while pulling the Buick into a ten story lot building. It was clearly closed on the weekends and surrounded by a collection of abandoned businesses in the seediest part of Chicago. Its condition wasn't any better--perhaps worse.

"No fucking jokes out of you for twenty four hours," Roy grumbled, "Can barely stand you breathing as it is." A chill filled the car and slithered down Kurt's spine, who snapped his lips shut. He settled for nodding in response. Death via a bullet between the eyes still swam fresh in his memory. Death via a bullet between the eyes from his brother.

The Buick steered up one platform at a time, further and further until it reached the ceiling level. Even with the windows rolled up, the ass crack of Chicago's signature smell invaded their nostrils, proving to be way more pungent during heavy rainfall.

It slowed to a stop and Kurt was first to hop out, looping around to the trunk. He barely reacted to the downpour, his short shock of brunette hair draping across his skull and into his eyes like sodden roadkill. He retracted an umbrella and popped it open, waiting for Roy to emerge. The loan shark didn't bother jostling Girl awake and dragged her along with him by the forearm, ignoring her startled snort. And displeased whimpers.

Girl never handled water well and beating the fear out of her seemed like a moot point.

Kurt trailed behind the pair, keeping them dry to the best of his ability. They approached a stand alone door boarded up by planks of wood. White rot had withered several of them into chunks. A plain slab of metal jutted from the concrete next to it, seemingly useless. Scoffing, Roy peeled it off with a crisp snap and revealed a trio of buttons.

Benette--the weird fucker always had a hard on for convoluted entrances. And cheesy ones, at that. Disgust toiled in Roy's gut when he realized he'd been memorizing all of the man's quirks. He shook off the thought. Sneering and grumbling was meant for outside of business hours. He pressed the button labeled "UG" and was rewarded with a staccato of a ding, old and pathetic. Two more dings followed.

Then the doors parted. Not the door, but the doors.

The trio rounded around the diversion entrance and came face to face with an opening in the left wall. A classy elevator plastered in honey-hued wallpaper and intricate stencil trim awaited them. Girl stared at the contraption, trapped in such a deep trance that she'd momentarily forgotten about the rain. Her bare heels slid across concrete as she hauled into the elevator.

The doors closed and, like a trigger, it set off the rickety ding once more. However, the box heaved a groan and gentle rumble immediately after, forcing panic into Kurt's eyes and annoyance into Roy's.

The loan shark shot his brother an irate glare from his peripherals. "Might be a sign, Kurt. A fucking omen."

Just as Kurt parted his lips to protest, he thought against it and studied the doors before them, then shifted his gaze further right when a series of lights caught his attention. Swift bursts of yellows and reds peeked through the cracks in tandem with lively chatter. They were descending.

Intrigue held Girl hostage. She scampered forth to sniff and palm at the cracks; if she had fur, her hackles would've risen. Roy and Kurt failed to understand what in the world agitated her, but neither of them had the patience to figure it out. Sighing, Roy clenched the back of her neck and forced her back in her rightful place--next to him. "Girl--Heel. Stay."

Girl obeyed.

The final ding resounded.

A tiny monitor located above the doors flashed "UG" in neon red, before the twin slabs parted and introduced them to a whole new world.

Music blared so loudly that their ears rang, Girl's especially so. A heavy bass ricocheted against the most intimate crevices of their organs and rattled bone, a perplexing combination of muffled volume and monstrous intensity. A single hall stretched ahead with doors running down either side, bathed in a psychedelic violet light. Scantily dressed girls wearing the masks of women staggered from room to room, their banshee giggles mixing uncomfortably with the music.

Girl crossed both arms over her head and growled under her breath, eyes screwed shut. Kurt took the initiative of stepping out first, apparently unfazed, and urged his brother to follow.

One door stood out among the others.

Unlike its neighbors, not a single splatter of dried suspicious liquids touched the surface, the golden knob glistened proudly, though not as much as the name plaque bolted to the center of it. The label read Benette Walsh.

Kurt took the liberty of knocking, stern but polite, then rested both hands on his hips impatiently. The exaggerated stoicism of his features spoke volumes about the anxiety crawling under his skin and the constant cackling of prostitutes around him didn't help at all. Add Roy's glare burning into his form and Kurt had half a mind to change his name and move to Canada by the break of dawn.

Meanwhile, Girl growled peevishly at the stumbling women, her hackles rising whenever one strayed too close for her liking. The smells. The lights. The overlapping noses. Her head throbbed from the overwhelming river of sensory feedback.

But then one woman in particular buckled. But only after she had burst out of the door across from them in wild abandon. Her legs were thin and too weak to hold her up, though nothing else about her body could be seen beyond the leather jacket swallowing up her form, several sizes too large for her.

"Fuck off!" she screeched at the top of her lungs, voice brittle and raw and desperately powerful at once. Girl flinched and clung to Roy's thigh, while the loan shark watched curiously.

Another man, overwhelmingly rotund in the belly area and sporting massive sweat stains under his armpits, emerged from the room next and crashed into the woman from behind, tree trunks for arms yanking her off her feet. "I'm gonna get my money's worth! Stop squirming, you goddamn--!"

A stiletto heel smashed into his foot, eliciting a howl of agony. He immediately released the woman and cradled his aching toes, a snarl twisting his greasy face.

"You didn't pay for this!" Her crystal gelled nails gently prodded her cheekbone, where a fresh bruise was blossoming blue under the neon lights. "That is not in my job description, fucking pig!" She emphasized her triumphant rant with the raising two middle fingers.

The celebration was short-lived.

The moment she realized she had a sober audience, her curious gaze shifted to Kurt, Roy, then Girl. It stayed on Girl. In that scant moment of eye contact, confusion ruled the stare between them, though the feeling was inspired in two completely different ways. Then confusion turned into one-sided concern. And finally, dread.

Just as the woman parted her lips to speak, bright lights exploded behind her eyes and pain crackled through her temple like a smite from God. Her balance gave and she hit the floor, back to the wall as she tried to blink through the haze.

"I don't care about the goddamn fine print," the man from before hissed as he loomed over her, "No scrawny little whore leaves me blue balled." He violently yanked her up until her heels hovered inches above ground.

Ka-chink!

A clicking back of a hammer. Roy and Kurt turned towards the sound. Girl didn't. She continued staring, even when a monstrous bang filled the halls.

Flesh and fragments of bone exploded from the man's skull, leaving behind a ruby red crater where half of his face used to be. Another hole ripped his shoulder blade to pieces, the power behind it so great that his massive body cocked to the side, flopping to the floor like a wet sack of meat.

"Leela," A voice cooed. And thus, Girl finally let herself seek out the voice, coming face to face with an average sized male standing in the doorway. Shotgun in hand. Disturbingly pleasant grin in place. His blue and yellow striped suit gave Girl a headache. "Get yourself cleaned up, okay?"

Leela, who had yet to utter a single word in fear of letting blood that wasn't her own dribble into her mouth, only nodded. She slipped off the leather jacket and chucked it onto the dead body, relieving herself of some of the splattered mess, then disappeared back into the room to wash up.

"Sorry about that!" The man said, shotgun still raised and poised to fire. Chirpy. Upbeat. Jovial. All of it stood out so grossly against the backdrop of gore that Roy couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I've been expecting you, Mr. Roy. Do come in? Oh! Don't worry about that body. I'll have custodians take out the trash soon enough." A childish giggle escaped him.

Roy felt like vomiting. Cutting a salty glare at Kurt from his peripherals, the loan shark straightened his tie and muttered, "Let's make this quick. I'm a busy man, Benette."

Benette's smile widened. "I know! That's why you're so admirable. I had our softest chairs brought in just for you," he cooed.

Roy ignored him and dragged Girl inside, Kurt trailing along silently.