From Dusk Till Dawn: Return to the Twister
The night air was cool this time of year, even in the steaming
heat of Mexico. The dark road was mostly deserted, except for a large
bar on the outskirts of anything remotly interesting. It was lit in
much the same fashion as one would expect a cheap casino or an all
night motel might be lit if it were placed smack dab on the Vegas
Strip. Bright neon lights adorned the upper floors. Below, dust and
dirt was scattered about by large semi-trucks with drivers looking
for a place to grab a drink, or a girl, whichever came first.
It was usually ten or eleven before the place really got jumping,
women hanging out of windows, people screaming, beer flying, the sound of
shotglasses hitting the floor, the sound of punches exchanging
between two drunks landing. These things together formed a quaint
little bar in Mexico affectionatly known as The Titty Twister. It was
here that a grand openeing took place, and where a criminal named
Seth Gecko would again come back to face the grizzly horrors of his
past.
2
The shining red car zoomed down the highway. Behind
the wheel sat Seth Gecko, with a dark green intertwining wire tatoo
stretching from his forearm to his neck. He had lived in El Ray, a
"Paradise" as he referred to it, for two years now, far from
the remenents of the Twister. He looked over his shoulder, the sky
turning that familiar shade of purple, the clouds disappearing,
the evening sun peaking slightly over the horizon.
Seth didn't like driving this close to the night time, not after his stay
at the Twister, not after the death of his brother or the multiple
deaths of the hundreds of hunched, brown vampires with their
stringy hair and weasle-like voices. Seth cringed. He always had this
feeling, in the back of his mind, gnawing at him constantly. He would
be driving down the road, dust flying, the wheels of his red car spinning
like toy tops in the hand of an overly excited child. And then, from the
back, while Seth sang along to an old Zepplin or Black Sabbath song on
the radio, his troubles forgotten, he would feel a cold, rotting hand
on his shoulder. He would turn around to meet the face of his brother,
fangs barred, flesh falling off in ragged strips, his dark hair mussed.
His eyes would have that familiar blank stare, the stare of a vampire....
Seth would always close his eyes and push the thought to the
back of his mind, turn it off, like a bad television program.
"It's over and done with." He said to himself, his voice grating,
like sandpaper. In the distance, Seth could hear the voices of men and
the rumble of large motors. Almost as an after thought, to confirm his
belief that the vampires were indeed gone, he muttered under his
breath.
"They can all burn in hell." He chuckled, and drove on. He had
been on his way to the local grocery, just to pick up a few odds and
ends. Milk, bread, the essentials. Possibly pull out his trusty .44 and
rip off some vender or a small time mom and pop store. It wasn't much
his style to be sure, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
A man's gotta eat, even in paradise.
The sound of voices grew louder still. Even the heat had seemed
to increase. Seth looked behind him again, the sky now almost pitch black,
the sky in front of him a dark, dingy blue. The sun was completly down now,
and soon he would be driving in complete darkness. His ride to the market
turned out to be a bust. Inside, the usual hustle and bustle of the food-buyers
was no where in site. "Family Buisness" the sign on the front door read. Seth
had nearly flipped out.
"Damn it all to hell." he had said, hopped into his car, and zoomed down
the unfamiliar stretch of highway, in hopes of finding the closest market, and
getting back to El Ray, good old El Ray. He had been driving for nearly an hour,
and had gotten nowhere. Only the growing sound of voices and motors.
Suddenly, over the horizon, in the new darkness, a large, bright neon light
appeared, tall and bright. He pressed his foot on the accelorator.
"This is it, this is fuckin' it!" finally someplace to eat. If only Seth
relized where this place was, what had stood there before this rencarnation.
Voices grew louder, motors groaned heavier. Seth slammed his fist upon the
wheel, a wide smile crossing his face, his neck craned outward in order to
read the bright neon sign in the distance. The lights grew brighter, trucks
and motorcycles flew by him, turning toward the establishment with the
neon lights. Seth swirved off the road, his car fish taling, and he faced the
buliding, cycles squeeling past him and parking outside the building, riders
clad in leather hopping off and going inside.
And then Seth read the sign. His smile faded, his hand slipped from the
wheel, and came to rest at his hip. "Oh my.." He couldn't finish, he only sat
there, jaws unhinged, eyes wide, his fear slowly creeping back into the pit
of his stomach, reading the sign. Seems the Twister was back in buisness.
(More is on the way)
The night air was cool this time of year, even in the steaming
heat of Mexico. The dark road was mostly deserted, except for a large
bar on the outskirts of anything remotly interesting. It was lit in
much the same fashion as one would expect a cheap casino or an all
night motel might be lit if it were placed smack dab on the Vegas
Strip. Bright neon lights adorned the upper floors. Below, dust and
dirt was scattered about by large semi-trucks with drivers looking
for a place to grab a drink, or a girl, whichever came first.
It was usually ten or eleven before the place really got jumping,
women hanging out of windows, people screaming, beer flying, the sound of
shotglasses hitting the floor, the sound of punches exchanging
between two drunks landing. These things together formed a quaint
little bar in Mexico affectionatly known as The Titty Twister. It was
here that a grand openeing took place, and where a criminal named
Seth Gecko would again come back to face the grizzly horrors of his
past.
2
The shining red car zoomed down the highway. Behind
the wheel sat Seth Gecko, with a dark green intertwining wire tatoo
stretching from his forearm to his neck. He had lived in El Ray, a
"Paradise" as he referred to it, for two years now, far from
the remenents of the Twister. He looked over his shoulder, the sky
turning that familiar shade of purple, the clouds disappearing,
the evening sun peaking slightly over the horizon.
Seth didn't like driving this close to the night time, not after his stay
at the Twister, not after the death of his brother or the multiple
deaths of the hundreds of hunched, brown vampires with their
stringy hair and weasle-like voices. Seth cringed. He always had this
feeling, in the back of his mind, gnawing at him constantly. He would
be driving down the road, dust flying, the wheels of his red car spinning
like toy tops in the hand of an overly excited child. And then, from the
back, while Seth sang along to an old Zepplin or Black Sabbath song on
the radio, his troubles forgotten, he would feel a cold, rotting hand
on his shoulder. He would turn around to meet the face of his brother,
fangs barred, flesh falling off in ragged strips, his dark hair mussed.
His eyes would have that familiar blank stare, the stare of a vampire....
Seth would always close his eyes and push the thought to the
back of his mind, turn it off, like a bad television program.
"It's over and done with." He said to himself, his voice grating,
like sandpaper. In the distance, Seth could hear the voices of men and
the rumble of large motors. Almost as an after thought, to confirm his
belief that the vampires were indeed gone, he muttered under his
breath.
"They can all burn in hell." He chuckled, and drove on. He had
been on his way to the local grocery, just to pick up a few odds and
ends. Milk, bread, the essentials. Possibly pull out his trusty .44 and
rip off some vender or a small time mom and pop store. It wasn't much
his style to be sure, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
A man's gotta eat, even in paradise.
The sound of voices grew louder still. Even the heat had seemed
to increase. Seth looked behind him again, the sky now almost pitch black,
the sky in front of him a dark, dingy blue. The sun was completly down now,
and soon he would be driving in complete darkness. His ride to the market
turned out to be a bust. Inside, the usual hustle and bustle of the food-buyers
was no where in site. "Family Buisness" the sign on the front door read. Seth
had nearly flipped out.
"Damn it all to hell." he had said, hopped into his car, and zoomed down
the unfamiliar stretch of highway, in hopes of finding the closest market, and
getting back to El Ray, good old El Ray. He had been driving for nearly an hour,
and had gotten nowhere. Only the growing sound of voices and motors.
Suddenly, over the horizon, in the new darkness, a large, bright neon light
appeared, tall and bright. He pressed his foot on the accelorator.
"This is it, this is fuckin' it!" finally someplace to eat. If only Seth
relized where this place was, what had stood there before this rencarnation.
Voices grew louder, motors groaned heavier. Seth slammed his fist upon the
wheel, a wide smile crossing his face, his neck craned outward in order to
read the bright neon sign in the distance. The lights grew brighter, trucks
and motorcycles flew by him, turning toward the establishment with the
neon lights. Seth swirved off the road, his car fish taling, and he faced the
buliding, cycles squeeling past him and parking outside the building, riders
clad in leather hopping off and going inside.
And then Seth read the sign. His smile faded, his hand slipped from the
wheel, and came to rest at his hip. "Oh my.." He couldn't finish, he only sat
there, jaws unhinged, eyes wide, his fear slowly creeping back into the pit
of his stomach, reading the sign. Seems the Twister was back in buisness.
(More is on the way)