He crept around the forest, stretching his new legs before lifting his nose and sniffing. There he thought. He had a faint scent, one that was definitely Atla. He got down on all fours and bounded after it, moving through the night with the swiftness that only came from the best of predators.
The smell of flowers and cherries mixed with a tinge of sweat was indeed the smell Finn had come to know Atla by. Though there was now something foreign also. Smoke, cheap cologne, and perhaps most worrying of all, blood.
If Finn was to follow this scent he would find himself on his way into the nearby city Jameston about a half mile away. The same city Dragon was leading his band of bruisers to. Right into a neighborhood that is considered the "bad part of town".
Rabbit lane is rundown and dying. Roads are bumpy from quick repairs, the sidewalks covered in grass growing from the multitude of cracks, every building has barricades, whether it's bars to protect home owners or boards for condemned buildings, the street lights that haven't been smashed are dim and flickering, and at this time of night the only people that are out are the kinds you don't want to talk to.
Through all the foreign noises and smells Finn may track down the source to an abandoned warehouse. Both to the left and the right are more warehouses of the same kind. The front door of the building is sealed with a rusty padlock. There are multiple windows around it, most of them have been boarded up but some have been broken into. Graffiti is sprawled on the worn walls.
The gravel road leading up to the warehouse has car treads worn into it, and oil sits pooled in the dirt. There is a small trail of blood drops leading into the locked building. There is still the small of exhaust in the air, but there are no cars nearby.
Across the street are a group of people, it's too dark to see what they look like or who they are. But you can hear hushed whispers being thrown back and forth, and one man points a finger quickly at you.
Finally, standing next to one of the other warehouses is a small figure in a hoodie concealing their face. They are just barely hitting five feet, and they stand still and silent looking in your direction.
Then, as what could follow as one of the most bizarre things of the night, music began filling the tent. It was Fred Astaire's 'Putting on the Ritz.' The puppets, if they could be called that, began shuddering in what was a ghastly attempt at a tap-dance routine. The audience continued waiting. How horrifying! But how stylish those jackets were!
Nora stood at the edge of the ring for the entire performance, silently baffled. Luckily she didn't try to talk during any of this or she would have found she couldn't, and then
somebody would've been in trouble.
Once the
dance was over Nora slowly held her head in her hand. "I pay them for this." She whispered to Dragon Jr. who just wagged his tail in response.
Most the audience members were courteous enough to give a half-hearted applause. Though a few at this point had gotten up to leave. A yell of "Screw this!" could be heard from somewhere in the crowd, and Nora let out a sigh.
Nora walked back to center ring and with a clap of the hands said, "Well, It's been great having you all. I'm sad to say that Atla is not feeling well, so her performance will have to be canceled." Nora gave her best appeasing smile to the crowd hoping they would understand.
They did not. A second later cries and boos could be heard from the crowd, along with the occasionally shouted "REFUND" which made a chill go up Nora's spine. Dragon Jr. started yapping unhappily in response.
"Now, now! I know you all must be unhappy." A brown grey mist starts to flow in the from the doorways, with it the smell of rot and grime. "But there is nothing that can be done!" The mist begins to roll throughout the crowd. No one sees or reacts to the mist other than a stray cough. "Also, I'm sorry to say, but we have a
strict no refund policy! So I must.. in-..sist." The crowd, and Nora, finally take notice of the mist that has engulfed the seats. Coughs are all that is heard from the crowd. But before anyone can move, scream, cry, or panic the entire crowd faints in their seats. A few of the people that were already leaving end up eating floor.
A one man round of applause can be heard from the back of the seats. "Beautiful as always!" A voice like gravel says.
From the back enters an Orc in a pinstripe blue suit with a large cigar, his mouth is set in a twisted grin underneath a thick black mustache and cold grey eyes. At his feet are three hellhounds, one could mistake them for rottweilers if it weren't for the fact that they were the size of small grizzlies, had patchy harcoal black fur, fiery red eyes, and teeth bigger than some people's hands.
Behind him is a goblin, his face of scars held in a sneer and a bowler hat to compliment his black jacket. He stands with his arms crossed looking to the orc. Towering above the goblin is a pack of Vampires. Not your sparkling lover vampires, the real deal. Fangs like combat knives, wide black eyes staring endlessly, appendages inhumanly long and thing with deadly claws. They stand motionless and silent, the only sound coming from them their ragged breathing.
The Orc begins to walk down to the ring with his friends in tow. "We have business to discuss." He says.
Nora sputters for a moment while Dragon Jr. gives a small growl at the advancing group.
"Nora Silverheart is it?" The orc asks, though by the tone of his voice it seems he already knows the answer. He smiles and looks down to the goblin. "What do you think Rufus?" The goblin scowls and with a shake of his head replies, "I don't like her."
The orc shrugs and extends his hand to Nora for a shake. "Call me Allister."
She shoves aside his hand and says, "I don't know who you and Mr. Sleeps-with-knives are." She gives a gesture to the goblin. "But we're a bit busy at the moment, so I want you out now!"
"Rude." Allister says. He snaps his finger and the same mist quickly engulfs Nora. Before she can do anything she has already fallen to the ground, with Dragon Jr. whining in worry.
Looking down at Nora, Allister says, "I like her." Slowly beginning to walk towards the backstage tent, he shouts, "Could everyone please come out! There is a dire matter that needs discussed."
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