The moonlight follows my every step, in the distance screams and laughter, together as one, nothing special. Going deep into the Platinum Quarter tonight. A certain dining establishment up by the docks beckons to me. Used to be a frigate back in the day, but those days have long since passed. Place is called the Rusted Swordfish and on a rare occasion one might even spot an aristocrat dining here. Tonight probably isn't such an occasion, but I'd be fine if they all just jumped off the pier instead.
A string quartet plays a haunting melody of the sea on the aft upper deck, where the helm is, while couples dance in circles around the base of the mast below. On the forward upper deck are the outdoor dining tables, positioned for the best possible view of the ocean. Above them is a tarp which has been positioned much higher at the aft end to ensure that any rain that might come runs into the water instead of on the patrons.
The few times I've been here the place has been packed. Tonight, however, it seems rather empty. A lovely hostess named Beth greets me at the quarterdeck, smiling from ear to ear. I remember her when she was just a classy whore who used to get top dollar at a brothel nearby, could be she still does. Never had the pleasure myself, paying for it was never my way, then again, I guess we all pay for it in one way or another. Beth is a lovely blond, sporting long curly locks like royalty. The cleavage her specially tailored sailor outfit reveals doesn't leave much to the imagination nor does her short skirt do much to hide those luscious-looking tan legs of hers. She starts bouncing up and down with glee when I come into view.
"Bertie! Fancy seeing you here. And you look so dashing tonight-" she says.
"Thanks love, point me to the kitchen, got a delivery."
She makes a gesture toward the stairs that lead below decks, then winks at me and I tip my hat. I step aside in time to avoid a woman being twirled around with reckless abandon on the dance floor and make my way down a set of very steep stairs. There's a private dining area here, with more people than I saw topside. Lots of noise coming from the level below, shouting and singing, but the kitchen is in the forward-most room.
When I walk through the door a pungent aroma of garlic and onions hits the nostrils. My eyes water a little and the steam circulating through the kitchen does little to clear it up. The cook is a skinny little fellow with glazed eyes and lots of stubble. His chef hat seems to be on inside out. He squints at me and stands with his mouth hanging open and his tongue pressed into his lower lip. I have half a mind to smack him.
"Where's Cassandra?" I say.
"Unnh." he groans in my direction.
"The fuck did you say?"
His eyes get a little wider and his head wobbles, but little else changes.
"Wha-chu-want?" he mutters.
"Cassandra, you twat, where is she? I've got her order." I say.
He smacks his lips, cocks his head to the side, starts licking the air, and then grumbles. "Dems-da-steaks, inn'dey? Jus-put-em-on-da-counta-dere."
I take a few steps towards him and get a whiff of a different aroma. My head starts to spin and I see a colorful smoke rising from the incense burning behind him. The first few breaths of it make me cough, then I laugh a bit and the cook laughs with me like it's all a big inside joke we share. Nice fellow really.
I pause for a few moments to look at the concoction he's stirring in his pot; it seems to be mostly water with one finely diced carrot in it. Why did I come here anyway? I stare at the cook and he just stares right back at me. So I look away, blink a few times, start squinting through the steam and the haze in the room. Then I look back; why's this fuck still staring at me?
"Y'want-summin-else-mate?" he says.
"Yeah," I say.
The light is refracting through the haze of the room and the blue cabinets above that counter the incense is burning on start to look pink then yellow then green. Everything slows down and I stare back at the cook and we start to laugh and shake our heads. It all makes sense. Nothing makes sense. I begin to stare at a fly on the wall, it seems to radiate with energy. The cook pokes me in the chest.
"Hnnnh," I say.
"D'you-need-summin-else?" he says.
I laugh and stare at him with my eyes wide. The smile he returns reveals the only three teeth he has left. Then he holds out a bottle of liquid that's bright yellow. All I can see on it is a horned skull and a bunch of X's.
"Take-a-swig-a-dis-mate." he says.
When the liquid hits the back of my throat I almost puke. It's like pure alcohol, but it seems really salty with other weird shit in it too. I start wheezing and gagging after swallowing it. Feels like I want to cough up my insides at first. My brain is on fire and I start to tingle; then I'm overwhelmed by an intense lingering frustration. It's like ants are eating my face.
"Wh- the fuck is this?" I say.
"S'devil-piss-mate." he laughs.
"Fuck me stupid." I say.
My head pounds and I let out a shout of rage and I pick the skinny little cook up off of his feet by his shirt and shake him. He screams then laughs then screams again and I do the same.
"Wha-d'you-want-fucko." he says.
"Huh- Cass- yeah, Cass- *gag*, where is she?" I say.
He laughs so loud and I start to laugh with him but stop myself and give him an assertive glare.
"Cassandra," I say.
"Down-inna-bar-mate." he says.
He points toward the door out of the kitchen. I nod and drop him to the floor. He howls with laughter, flat on his back. I stumble through the dining area to the stairs down to the bar and bump a table on my way and the man and woman sitting at it stare at me and scoot their chairs away. One of the serving girls has to jump out of my way to avoid a collision. Then I reach the stairs and when I get about halfway down I just fall.
I roll onto the floor in the bar taking out one man who falls on his back. Another man moves to avoid me and collides into a cluster of people who either stumble into the wall or fall down themselves. I feel a large hand yank me to my feet. I'm seeing red and I glare at a very large bald man who looks like he has a tattoo of a bird on his face. He dangles me in front of him.
"Look fellow, you need to get the fuck out of here before you get hurt." he says.
I laugh and he slaps me and I scream with rage. My left fist connects sharply with his side and I hear a groan then I unleash my right elbow to his chin, such a nice popping sound his jaw makes. He drops me and moans and I start to laugh again and barely duck his right hook then I follow it up with a very quick leaping headbutt that floors him and when I land on my feet I shout and start to do a little dance.
A couple of people are clapping somewhere, but the room is so crowded, I can't pinpoint them. I grab the man nearest to me by the shirt and shout in his face as loud as I can and laugh when he falls on his ass and mutters something about shitting his pants. Then I shout for the cluster of people in front of me to get the fuck out of my way and stumble through them, throwing elbows when they hardly move.
One of the drunks close to me just screams when I get near him and I slap him in the mouth, hard, again and again and he runs for the stairs but trips and falls and the cracking sound of his face hitting the wooden floor can be heard even over the crowd. Some people start darting for the stairs but most of the crowd just stands there and mind their own business.
