Based on the papers, bodies were suspected of being dumped around this area. No one bothered to follow up, as the victims were typically women with promiscuous lives. Always sought out but never looked for afterward.
I approached the alley where the entrance would be,as there was also one at the front of the building. Some figures were looming outside, cooling off in the night air with a quick smoke. I wore my best impression of working-class clothing, a simple long-sleeved blouse with a brown skirt. Though I wore it higher on the waist, even the tops of my boots could be seen at this hemline. How embarrassingly improper.
Shoe polish stuck to my eyelashes and brows, hiding the white hairs that would give me away as anyone in particular. My hair was worn down as well. It was like walking around in sleeping attire. Entirely too vulnerable.
Moving past the figures who leered in the dark, I knocked on a wooden door, and it creaked open. The noises from inside spilled into the alley, as well as a dim red light.
“Business?” a gruff voice demanded.
“I’m a... Host? I’m a Host,” I said unconvincingly.
“You don’t sound so sure, love.”
“It... it’s my first time.” I lowered my voice. “Please let me in.” My voice shook as I glanced at the figures looming in the alley.
The door opened wider, granting me entry.
“Thank you,” I breathed. The tension thickened as I moved farther into the Den. It was crowded in the skinny hallway, with many rooms only blocked by thin curtains as I passed.
Movement and small snippets of images caught my eye as I passed. In one room, a woman was in a chair, letting three, four, maybe five men latch on to her and feed. It was hard to see in the dim light. In some rooms, I could see pipes being passed and sluggish bodies sprawled into piles around one another. It was worse than I would expect even a brothel to be. So unsanitary and taboo, but maybe it only seemed that way to me because I did not consume human flesh to survive.
At the heart of the building, there was a large room with asunken lounge in the middle. The platform was lined with a perfect-fitting seating area where a group was occupying it. Along the sides there were stairs leading up to a viewing area around the edges. The place looked like it had been a run-down theater, repurposed for the formidable.
Topless women with fresh blood trailing down their breasts from their necks walked through the tables as if to collect new clients. Their long legs moved slowly, and they were only decorated in stockings and a corset, though it looked like they were used more as decoration than functionality. Privacy was optional when feeding, since there were couples scattered about, tangling with each other. All seats were occupied and covered with Vipera and Hosts. The sounds of laughter, drunken men, and sucking filled the air, weaving its way around the crowded area.
I was a fly on the wall, clinging to the outer edge of the Den as I only observed. I rubbed the back of my neck and was surprised to feel my own skin for once. The blouse I chose did not have a high collar and exposed down to my chest. I realized how much I missed my armor, the garments that kept me safe and hidden. The clothes that made people turn the other way when they saw me.
While the activities were chaotic, it was primarily a positive environment. There was no need to hide anything, and everyone involved acted like they were in a club. How odd it was for everyone to be so relaxed, though I was sure the substances in those pipes helped.
The thought had seemingly hexed my surroundings. Something was unfolding down by the lounge area in the middle.
The men whistled one of the feeders forward, and some mumbled words were exchanged before the woman got down on her knees. She looked in rough shape. She was pale, thin, andhad a deadness in her eyes that made me feel a chill in my core. Three men crowded around her, circling her like dogs.
The situation slowly demanded the room’s attention, and the others fell silent, watching as if they knew what was about to happen. No one seemed bothered. It was more like the dimming of voices before a show would start.
The three men lunged but were obscured when a hand slapped across my eyes and a strong body pulled me back.
A scream was cut off abruptly before a thud was heard. Then, the sounds of ripping began.
I panicked within the arms holding me and clawed at the hand over my eyes, my body trembling from the noises alone.
“Don’t look,” Silas whispered in my ear, holding me tight against his chest. “This is why you can’t venture into treacherous places like these without me.” He rested his head on my shoulder. “The people who live in these places would make me look like a saint.”
“Let me see it,” I whispered. “I must know.”
The wet ripping noises continued, but no one else seemed to make any commotion.
After the noises died down, the regular clamor of the crowd returned to how it was before. Silas’s hand fell away, allowing me to observe the aftermath.
Nothing could have prepared me for the sight. It reminded me of how they performed dissections in universities, except I had only seen illustrations of them in books.
The woman’s body was flayed open, her chest cavity torn and the flesh peeled away from her body like a flower. Her rib cage was cracked open and posed like open jaws toward the ceiling. Nothing was inside. It was empty.
Her head laid limp. I wished I could imagine that it was painless, but her broken-jawed expression told me otherwise. Itwas clear from her oddly angled neck that it was not a clean break.
“Alina, look at me,” Silas whispered into my hair, but my eyes stayed glued to that spot on the floor. The gravity of my situation weighed on me. My stomach churned, and barely any thoughts formed cohesively.
If this was what the corrupted did, a mental picture of what Silas’s Nest would do when they found me entered my mind. What if they realized I was here? What if they all found out who I was? Silas had said my poison was on its way to infamy within these circles. What happened when they found out? My body was shaking hard, my fingers and toes getting cold from the panic.
