Friday, 31 May 2013

"The Morgue" A Short Story



 "Of course they left me. Why am I even surprised?" Claire thought as she stumbled across the wet pavement. The warm, summer night made her even more frustrated than she ever thought she'd be. Her dress was now feeling too short, too tight and was bothering her, her feet burned in her one size too small red stilettos and all she wanted to do was rip the clip that was holding up her straight black hair out, whip it across the street and watch it get run over. Tonight had not been a good night. Walking the two miles home was the only way to clear her head, which was now soaked in the assortment of cocktails she had downed in a matter of a couple hours. The older, dirty guy across the bar who made all those comments towards her was now a dull vibration in her brain, thanks to the cosmopolitans. Walking along the street at 2am was not her idea of a good ending though. 
  
 "At least it's not raining" she thought herself, as she heard "Du Hast" resonating from her purse and echoing off the windows of the local store fronts. She stopped dead in her tracks on the corner of the street to dig through in the light of the street lamp, rustling around and finding everything but the iPhone. As she continued to dig, she was suddenly splashed by a passing car running through an oil and rain water filled puddle. Jumping back, she felt the heel of her right stiletto catch on a crack in the crooked sidewalk and snap, causing her to fall back, landing flat on her rear in a puddle in front of the local chinese restaurant.
  
 "Shit!" she exclaimed under her breath as she got up and looked at her stiletto, which was completely destroyed. Frustration built up inside of her as she felt tears spring to life in her eyes. Pulling herself together quickly as to not draw more attention to herself, she began to hobble down the deserted city street. She heard her phone ring again, and dug around as she continued to walk along.
  
 "Hello?" she said, sounded exhausted and exhasperated as she blew a string of hair out of her face.
  
 "Heyyyyy girl," Tonya slurred from the other end. "I'm so sorry but me and Rach met these guys and they wanted rides home. We were going to come back for you but we are wayyyyyy too drunk to drive."
  
 "Don't worry about it," Claire said, regretting it instantly. She should have told her where to go, but she was too tired to care anymore. After a few minutes, Tonya had passed out on the phone and Claire returned her cell back to her purse. She was suddenly aware of her surroundings as her drunk brain began to sober quicker than she would have liked, and looked around. The china town district was easy to navigate through. Restaurant on the left, butcher shop beside that, and an assortment of the local convience stores full of nicknacks and doo-dads. She knew this area very well. The bus stop was 10 blocks away if she was to continue down the same street, but soon realized she could take the shortcut she had taken as a child and teenager, and cut through the old military cemetary. Crossing the street and walking up the steps to the front gate, she could see the blinking light from inside the bus shelter. It was only a 5 minute walk, and as it began to rain, she risked the mud, dirt and soggy grass and walked in between the gravestones as her one stiletto heel sank in the earth with each step she took.
  
 Claire stopped at a mausoleum half way across the cemetery, looking across to see the comforting light of the bus stop blinking at her as she took off her stilettos. She was fed up of this night and just wanted it to end. As she continued to walk, now slightly more comfortable as her burning feet touched the cold, wet grass, she heard a scraping noise from behind her. Before she had time to turn around, she was grabbed by a cold, clammy hand and pulled back into the mausoleum. She tried to scream out but somehow, she knew no one could hear her as she watched the mausoleum door scrape closed, encasing her in complete blackness. In the darkness, she could hear another door open, and hands grabbing her waist and hoisting her over the shoulder of a man as he made his way down a flight of stairs. Too confused to say or think anything, she stayed quiet until she was dropped on a cold, smooth floor. Her ears were suddenly flooded with the sound of pumping, cyber goth music as she tried to adjust her eyes to the blackness that covered them.
  
 "Hello?" she said loudly, then instantly cringed at how cliche she sounded. Suddenly the music stopped. The silence rang in her ears as she stood up and tried to feel in front of her for anything that she could grasp onto. That's when she heard a familiar sound; clicking of stilettos, slowly creeping closer to her. 
  
 "Well what do we have here? You look just a mess," a soft, feminine voice echoed through what seemed like a vast empty space. "Welcome to The Morgue." Suddenly a spotlight flashed on, and Claire was blinded as her eyes, now adjusted to the darkness, throbbed in her skull. 
  
 "Ok, I know this is going to sound about as stupid as any horror movie script, but where am I?" Claire wrapped her arms around her waist and shivered as the coldness of the room chilled her to the bone. "And why can't I see anything?"
  
 "Manson! Dim the lights a bit, you're blinding our guest," the mystery woman called out to someone. The lights dimmed and Claire slowly opened her eyes. All she could see was herself in a pool of light. The woman giggled as she inched closer, making her black, pvc stilettos visible in the light. Claire watched as the woman stepped closer, revealing her very pale skin, black and white striped, latex mini dress and dark makeup,
  
 "Welcome, again Claire. I'm Macabre, but please, everyone calls me Dame. And this," Dame clicked her heel on the now visible black and white checkered floor and all the lights went on, filling the wide room with dim light. "is The Morgue."
  
 Claire looked around, not able to say anything. Everything in the room was something out of a gothic night club. The DJ booth was high on the wall behind her, with no visible way of access, and behind Dame along the opposite wall, were 5 cages, each with a name and a girl inside. The girls were all pale, almost ghost like, as they danced to the music, which had started again as the lights went up. She read the names to herself, as Dame watched her intently with a small grin, her black hair shone all the way down her back in the lights of club. 
  
 "Allow me to introduce you to everyone," Dame said over the music as she touched Claire's wet back and guided her to the cages. Her stilettos clicked loudly on the floor as the crowd of people, all dressed in latex with dark makeup and almost dead-like pale skin, parted for Dame to pass by. She pointed to all the cages, naming them off one by one by what Claire hoped were nicknames. Lexx, Sullen, Lollirot, Memento, and Psyonide or, as Dame called them, The Gore Gore Girls. Each girl looked over and smiled, waved or nodded as Dame called their names, but stayed in the character of the job they were assigned to do: entertain Dame's many guests. 
  
 Stepping in front of Claire, Dame eyed her attire with a worried look. "You're positively soaked. Necro grabbed you just in time. We must get you out of this... outfit. Come with me,"
  
 Claire was guided to a doorway on the right side of the club. Opening the black, silk curtains, Claire stepped inside with Dame behind her. She realized where the club got it's name instantly. Inside the slightly smaller room, morgue doors covered the sleek black walls in rows, each with a corresponding number. In the far corner was an autopsy table with an attaching sink, and lined with tools and knives. The sour smell of death filled Claire's nose as she felt Dame's hand reach up and pull the small clip out of her hair, and feeling it unravel down her back.
  
 "You know what? I was on my way to a bus stop to go home. I can change there. There's no need to change now. I can just be on my way. I hope you enjoy your night, but I really must be going," Claire said anxiously. She did not want to be a part of this. All she wanted to do was go back to the cemetary, down to the bus stop and eventually get under her covers in her own bedroom.
  
 "Nonsense!" Dame exclaimed with a smile. "You need out of this dress before you catch your... Death of cold." Claire did not like the pause before the word "death" and continued to try to excuse herself. Before she knew it, she was handed a short, red dress by a tall, rather attractive man, along with a pair of white, latex stilettos, and was accompanied to a small screen by Dame and instructed to change.
  
 As the music continued in the other room, she could hear Dame speaking with the man who handed her the dress and shoes, finding out his name was Mortician, and was Dame's brother. Claire stepped out after a few minutes, slightly surprised at how well the dress fit her, and wondering how Mortician knew her dress size. Her mind darted back to when she first heard Dame's voice, and remembered she had known what her name was. Who were these people and what did they want with her?
  
 "That looks lovely on you. You look a bit more alive than I'm used to, but I'm sure that will change by the end of the night. Shall we?" Dame opened the curtain that led back to the club. Claire suddenly felt like she had no control and walked through the curtain. Every one of Dame's guests eyed Claire like she was the next meal, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her waist to sheild herself again. Dame motioned for her to join her on a sofa as she sat in between Necro, the man who brought Claire here, and Mortician. The couch sank under Dame's tiny frame, the black and white cushions seemed to blend in with her dress as she crossed her legs and lit a cigarette with the ease and grace of a queen. Introduced to the two men, Claire found out that Necro was Dame's fiance. He didn't say anything to her, and just nodded as his name was mentioned. Mortician said a simple "Hello" but nothing more as Dame chattered on, talking with guests as they passed her. 
  
 "Would you like a drink? Some of the Gore Gore Girls have cracked open the liquor so the party is really starting," Dame asked with a smile as Sullen and Lexx came up in front of them. Before Claire could protest, she was handed a drink by Sullen, who skipped off drunkenly with Lexx, their big platforms clunking as they ran back towards the dance floor, as Dame sipped her drink. Claire was confused by the hospitality of these strangers and took a sip of her drink, which was her favourite cocktail. She finished it quickly, and suddenly felt a bit tired. Fear crept over her, sending chills up her spine as she gripped the soft, leather sofa.
  
 "I'm sorry," Claire slurred. She grew even more scared as she heard herself speak. The world was spinning around her, and she felt like she was beginning to pass out as she tried to stand up. "I would really, really like to go home now. Please, Dame. I'm tired and I need to sleep. I want to go home."
  
 Claire blacked out then. Falling back onto the sofa and her glass falling onto the floor and smashing over the black and white tiles. Dame smiled at the sight of this and stood up, leaning over Claire to brush the hair out of her eyes. Necro picked up Claire, and hoisted her over his shoulder as he and Mortician followed Dame across the dance floor back to the small room where Claire changed out of her dress. Necro placed Claire on the autopsy table with a kind of gentleness that was not placed upon her at first. Dame stood at the head of the table as Mortician pulled on latex gloves and picked up a scalpel. He grazed Claire's jugular vein with professional precision and grazed the scalpel again along her femoral artery, and the embalming process began.
  
 As Dame watched her new member slowly bleed out under Mortician's care, she invited her guests, Gore Gore Girls and her DJ, Manson to observe his handy work. As she watched Claire be sewn up, and her skin turn a milky white colour under the lights, She smiled ear to ear and picked out a Morgue drawer just for her. 
  
 "Number 8962. What does everyone think?" Dame asked as she turned towards her guests. They all nodded and agreed with her as Necro once again picked up Claire, this time cradling her like a child. Dame opened the door and slid out the slab that was hidden inside, and Necro placed Claire on it gingerly. Dame looked over Claire, examining her positioning and smiled, very pleased with her choice of members. Claire looked more beautiful in Dame's eyes than she had when she was pulled in from the the cemetery. Her black hair splayed out along the slab and her expression seemed more peaceful than Dame had ever seen anyone's before her. She motioned for Necro to push the slab back into the freezing drawer and grasped the handle of the door.
  
 "Welcome home, Claire," Dame said with a broad grin and shut the Morgue door, locking her newest member inside until the next party was held.


~Crissy D

Love is...

   How can we be certain that the one we love the most is actually genuine? How do we know that when we don't have eyes on them.. They're not off frolicking in greener pastures? We don't for sure. I guess having a little bit of faith goes a long way.

   I have been asked by numerous people what my idea of love is. It seems people trust my opinion on such matters because I have successfully held down my current relationship for the past four years. My idea of what love truly is is quite simple....

   When I think of love... I think of the the feelings that come right up from the pit of your stomach. It's warm and it just grows and grows until there is no where else for it to go but through your pores, out of your orifices and into the presence of the one who makes you feel this way. It is the smile that crosses your face as the individual that you adore calls you; the familiar ringtone that makes your heart jump into your throat and you can't help but fumble as the need to answer it quickly causes your fingers to turn into melting sticks of butter. It is waking up, looking like the swamp thing with swamp breath to match and knowing deep down in your soul that they really do not care what you look or smell like; as long as you are with them as they flutter their eyes open for the first time at the start of a new day.

It is not flowers, candy, date nights and expensive jewelry. Love is a feeling that manifests into something spectacular. It is the only thing in this world that can give you a natural high that lasts for days, and the only thing that can destroy an individual from the inside out. Love is indeed a dangerous, beautiful thing.