In Seth Gecko's particular line of work, he had become accustomed to many moments of himself speculating if he was going to make it out alive when he was on the job; and his brother Richy's debauched actions didn't help much to alleviate the problem.
No, dear Richy had a tendency to make the situation far, far, worse than it could have been had he not been there. The messes he left for poor Seth were often obscene piles of lacerated, crumpled, beaten flesh left for the torment of his elder brother's patience - and sanity. But in this moment, in a seemingly native environment of an [almost] charming gallery of rogues and thugs of Tijuana's criminal underbelly , Seth was really beginning to question just how far his sanity had been stretched all these years spending time in a prison cell with his slightly disturbed brother Richy. Through the smoky haze of cigarettes and smoldering corpses, the air was so thick with death it's miasma obscured nearly the entirety of the gentleman's establishment known only as "The Titty Twister" . It lent the place an almost unreal quality of mysticism , which seemed appropriate given the events that had just unfolded before a very weary Seth Gecko's eyes. He racked his brain time and again, trying his best to somehow rationalize what he had just witnessed. No matter what he came up with however, [even taking into consideration just how much he had to drink that night] it all lead back to one word -
Vampires.
Fucking.
Vampires.
With a broken pool stick in his slightly quivering hands , and a monstrously deformed once-human pile of semi-solid goo laying at his feet [still twitching and writhing wilst the last embers of flame died out in a charred stain on the blood drenched floor], Seth wasn't quite sure what hellish reality he had walked into , but he knew one damn thing - his brother is dead. And someone is going to pay for it.
That someone happened to be a centuries old Vampiress, that was up until a minute ago gnawing on his now re-dead brother's throat. In a struggle that seemed to last for an eternity for him , the buxom Goddess took great pleasure in humiliating the incapacitated Seth , her inhuman strength choking him against the wooden planks with only her right foot. In her arrogance, she must have underestimated the instinctual nature that is human survival. While she taunted poor Seth , lecturing him on the quality of his existence, slowly crushing him beneath her foot like an ant, the hulking Vietnam Veteran that had been amongst the first to react against the undead assault leapt from the shadows he had been hiding in and struck the unsuspecting Aztec queen with a barstool across the skull with a thunderous CRACK!
Staggered, the now bewildered Satanica Pandemonium reeled again in retaliation, only to be met with the explosive sensation of having her leg blown apart with a sawn off shotgun, the force of the pellets splintering the bone and severing the limb indefinitely, her mutilated nubs painting the wooden floor an even darker shade of scarlet than Seth thought possible. As seth shambled up from the ground covered in blood and thicker things, he shared a glance with the eyes of the crazed veteran, a grim smile crossing his face as his eyes beamed at his fellen daemonia, still awkwardly hobbling across the ground in a vain attempt to reach the other side of the bar. the veteran returned his gaze with his own, sharing a wordless understanding, his eyes too held a morbid delight . Tonight was gonna be one hell of a night, Seth mused.