Chapter 21: Tyler Schoditsch
As I started to walk into the crowded mesh of the area, I started to think about something. It wasn't something I wanted to think about, nor had any reason to think about, but it was the only thing I could think of at the time. Paladin, Malachai, whatever the fuck you wanted to call him. I couldn't help but think about how, or where, he left and went to. Or better yet, why did he leave?
So what, he betrays us, helps us, and then fucking runs? Don't get me wrong again, I don't want him with us. But it would've been nice to have some muscle around though.
The time I was thinking about this though, I was now in between a tall, red man and a fat bitch. Unable to see Guardian, I started to look all around and try to pick up on his armor. Maybe if I could see his goggles, I could pick him out. I tried to see around the room, but it was so packed, I couldn't see more than a few feet in front of me.
I started to get nauseous. I looked faster around, yelling out Guardian's name at the top of my lungs. No one answered, no one hears me, I'm all alone. My hands start to get sweaty and my head starts to get light headed. Before I know, I'm running through the aisles and shops blurting out "Guardian!"
This is it, people packed in between and around, nowhere to go, nowhere to run. If someone wanted to kill me, this was it. Just walk up and stab me in the stomach without anyone knowing who it was or why. And then my body would just assimilate into the fold that is Alma. My body, cold and wet; my mind, clouded and dizzy; and before I hit the floor, I saw it. Standing in front of me, just smiling.
"Hey… hey bitch', its yur turn."
"Huh, what?" I asked.
"Its yurfuckin' turn ta go."
"Wait? How'd I get here?" I asked turning all around and trying to get a feel of where I was. It was, or at least appeared to be, a strip-house. A long, high boardwalk stretched out about fifteen feet with tables scattered all around it. In the center stood a pole extending from the top of the ceiling to the bottom of the walk. The room itself was crowded with tons of people, ghoul and human alike. Every single table it seemed was packed to the bone, and the atmosphere of the room was filled with the sound of cool jazz.
I breathed in the smell of cigarettes and booze. For a moment there, I was lost. But now; I was home.
"I said go ya fag!" The ghoul yelled loudly.
"Oh, ok," I looked back to see in my hands; Caravan cards. Fuck yeah. If there was any game I was good at, it was Caravan. "Here" I place down a seven on top of my nine. I look at the table; seven on nine, three, and a ten. On his side; a five, eight, and a seven. This appeared to be the very beginning of the game too.
"Nice," He spits to the floor, I look over to see no bucket though, "Arn't I just a lucky sonavabitch'?" He says as he lays his six atop of his eight.
I look over, "And why is that?"
He leans over while folding his cards, "Because how many times a day do you have a retard like yourself just walk in, half disoriented, and just sit down to play me in Caravan?" He leans back and laughs as I place my eight down on my ten.
"I don't know, how many times a day do you get to play a queer like yourself?" I rebutted.
"Well," He places a seven of clubs on top of his other seven, "I don't know the answer to that. But what I will tell you is the odds of seeing some hot bitches are a hundred."
I smiled a bit, "Hot bitches huh. So this entire place is…" He shakes his head. "Well that's great." I then place six on my seven.
"So, you're saying you don't know who is playing here?" As he asks he places a five on the last seven.
"No. I don't," I laugh a little; "I don't even really know where I am."
"Her name is Mystique," He says as I place a two on my eight, "You ain't never heard of Mystique?"
"No."
He gives me a wired look. "Where the fuck is you from?"
"I'm," He lays down a four on his previous five, "from… from out of Vegas."
"I kinda figerd, by the way yu look." He says as he fixes his crotch.
"What do you mean, the way I look?"
He waits a second to answer. "I jus' men't, yu look diffren't, that's all." As this is said he lays down a six on his second caravan; making it twenty.
"Oh really? Well, when I saw you I could've said your face has more wrinkles then a ghouls nut-sack. I also could've said your clothes look like you stole them off of a flaming child molester, I mean blue and green; fuck? You know what else I could've said?" I leaned forward, "I also could of said the way you talk make me think your mother hit you in the face with a shovel when you were born." I start to lean back, "But you know why I didn't say that?"
"…Why?"
"Because I don't need to," I laid down a two of hearts on my other two of hearts, "I won Caravan."
The ghoul gave me a familiar look, the look you only give someone you're about to stab in the gut because he fucked your sister. Yeah, that look. We stared each other down, daring the other to make a move, before the two of us smirked.
"You sonavabitch." He chuckled. "No one's ever beat me at Caravan before!"
"Probably because all you play is drugged out retards." I laughed as I mimed shaking a bottle of pills into my mouth.
He let out a rasping laugh that sounded like he was coughing up all the dust in his organs. I swear I saw some dust come too. After he pounded the table twice, he turned toward me and extended his rotting hand. "Name's Azul. Professional drug-runner, explosive expert, and lady's man."
I looked at the decayed flesh on his palm, almost ready to spit on it, before I reluctantly shook it with my gloved hand. "Tyler… Merc."
"How 'bout we play 'nother fuckin' round?"
I smirked, swiping the caps on the table into my bag. "Nah, I've wasted enough time taking your money. I'm actually here to—."
The jazz music stopped. Every head in the room snapped to attention and turned toward the platform.
"What's going on?" I asked. It seemed as if the entire room was now shifting towards the pole, metal chairs scraping against rusty ground.
"What the fuck do yu think is happening?" He starts to pull out caps and inches himself closer, "Mystique's 'bout to come out."
"What makes this bitch so special?" I asked. Don't get me wrong, all strippers are special in their own way. Just never enough to warrant a name other than 'Titbitch' or 'Asstastic'.
Azul turned toward me. "This chick ain't only hot, pendejo. She's deadly. Been tryin' to get her on my payroll for weeks."
I raised my eyebrow, "Deadly?"
He didn't answer; instead staring at the stage like a million caps were going to erupt from it.
"This brings back memories." I muttered under my breath. I stretched and yawned, "Well, I think I'm going to leave. But if I ever see you again, I'll kick your ass if you like?" I get up and, just as I'm about to go, he grabs my arm.
"Hey, just stay another second and you'll see her." He says pulling my arm back towards the chair.
"I would but-" I tried to explain. But then…she came out.
She was wearing nothing, and I mean nothing, but a white see through mesh top and a pair of red ass-less panties. She walked on the stage like a cougarbeast, sleek but strong. Her tits were the size of melons. Small enough so you don't suffocate, but large enough to motorboat.
But, the moment my eyes left her body and saw her face, I remembered. As she walked provocatively towards me, for I was at the table at the end of the catwalk, my rage started to take over and it took all my strength just to restrain myself.
My mind went back to Ruf. The bar where Guardian got his caps stolen. The prostitute who got the drop on us. Fucking bitch.
When she was just about five feet away though, I smiled. I smiled because after all the time, and of all the places, I found her here. Stripping.
It was strange though to go from complete rage to laughter, but I didn't care. Now was the time to make my move. As she approached me, I could tell she didn't remember me because; one, she didn't try and run; and two, because she asked.
"So, are you having a good time?" She whispered through full, glossy lips. And the moment she said this, I pulled out my revolver and pointed at her.
"Oh, I'm about to!" I laughed, smiling with teeth exposed."Remember me cunt!"
Right as I said this, about ten other guns circled my head and were all pointed at me. I looked for a second to see the sheer amount of people pointing weapons at me. Even Azul had a gun to my face.
"Fuck…" I muttered, my eyes wide, "…me."