“It doesn’t matter,” Brooks said to his darker half. “Whether we have our power or not, Xia needs us.”
Brooks kept to the shadows until the entrance of the building was visible. Strobing red lights filtered from the closed door as daemon of all variety stood in a line. He debated his tactics for only a moment before stepping from the shadows and into the line of club patrons. Without their full power, their chaos, he and his darker half would have to be strategic to avoid making a scene. He was unwilling to test its limits before he needed it most. Chaos paced in his confines inside his mind, but Brooks maintained focus. He had to get to Xia.
“Hey handsome,” a shrill voice rang to his right as a vibrant pink claw traced his collarbone. “That’s quite an outfit. Headed to Level Lust?”
A quick look down and the realization hit– he was naked.
Jeers and whistles followed her comment.Kill her, Chaos sneered.
When he’d created the world, nudity was the standard. The time spent sculpting their bodies until each inch was uniquely perfect filled his empty moments. The evolution of his creatures in front of him was remarkable, though, and the mixing of the bloodlines seemed to know no bounds. Their skin was a cacophony of colors from pastel blues to fiery oranges. Feathers and fur, wings and hooves. They were beautiful.
A glance around confirmed that it was now custom to clothe the skin in scanty shreds of fabric. His mind flicked back to the scratchy tan scrubs he’d worn in the asylum and he shivered. Brooks glanced around the standing crowd and caught the eye of a nymph dressed in ripped black pants and a white v-neck shirt.
That would do.
Brooks pulled on a small thread of chaos like a weaver holding yarn and knit the fabric of reality to his whims. He looked down to find his body clad in the same fitted ensemble.
“Aww, I wasn’t complaining, honey. You can take it back off.” The female was beautiful in the most exotic way. Her body was shaped like his original creation made in his image, but that’s where the similarities ended. Her arms resembled wings– long feathers draped to her sides with a hand at the end of each. Smaller feathers covered her legs, groin, and breasts and a brilliant headdress sat atop her head. Her entire body, feathers and all, was one shade of magenta. All except for the piercing yellow eyes staring back at him.
“Either you like what you see, baby, or you’ve never played with a harpy before. I can make all your wildest dreams come true,” she teased as the group of daemon surrounding her laughed.They were all harpies, each a different color with various arrays of feathers patching their skin.
He ignored her taunt and asked, “How do I get in?”
“Just buy me a drink, handsome.” More laughter.
Kill. Her. Or I will drain her dry myself.
Ice spread from under his feet and crawled up the side of the club as Chaos fought for control of his body. The cold lingered with each breath puffing from the patrons standing closest in line. Stares turned their way as the group of harpies regarded him with cautious glares.
“Tell me how to get into this club, harpy.” His fists clenched as he fought for control.
She will answer or she will die in this line.
A blue male with impressive muscular definition and a tall frame stepped in front of her and crossed his arms. “Or what, freak?”
Brooks imagined that most would be intimidated by the stance. If he were back in the asylum, he may have been frightened, too.
No longer.
The Deathless God feared nothing.
“Don’t waste my time.” Brooks’ tone was menacing and dropped with the temperature.
“Don’t make idle threats, asshole, and I won’t waste my time shutting you down.” His posse closed in and the pink harpy’s smile turned venomous.
“They’re not going to help us,” he thought inward. “We cannot make a scene. Calm. Down.”
Chaos’ sigh was palpable. Brooks turned from the group and moved forward with the line surveying the area for an alternate entrance. When none appeared, he eavesdropped on the conversation between a few daemon and a hulking horned figure guarding the door, but their words were indiscernible under the bass pulsing through the walls. The bouncer pushed the coupleback as a group of males escorted a pink-haired female in a scrap of silver through the front doors.
Maybe if you summon her dress next, they’ll let us through.
Brooks rolled his eyes. He didn’t have fucking time for this. His Siren was in there suffering and he was sorting through club politics with a sarcastic leech riding his ass. He moved to push his way through the line, but before he could take the first step a fist collided with the back of his head.
The smell of piss and opium filled the darkened alley as bodies stumbled along, hands grazing the brick wall to guide them toward the door into Hel. Moans lingered in every corner, just loud enough to be heard over the bass from inside.
Nyx checked her reflection in the pocket mirror and gave a weary sigh before tucking it back into her handbag. The long, pink wig she’d stolen from the woman passed out behind the club was less than ideal, but her self-cut shoulder-length black hair was too inconspicuous to gain entry into the infamous club. Black kohl lined her cat-shaped eyes to emphasize the violet of her irises. Pale skin stood out against the black lipstick painted on her lips and the beauty mark drawn just above them.
The stolen dress she’d donned was a barely-there silver piece that her curves couldn’t quite fill, but it would have to do. If you wanted to be a patron of Club Hel you had to eitherknow someone big or catch their attention. Wigs and flashy clothes were her best bet, since everything else about her was unremarkable.
