Creep- Chapter 3

The waking world returned to Creep in a blinding flash of light like some divine revelation. He put his hand over his eyes, trying to protect them from the brilliance. For a short while his entire world was light, a sharp contrast from the night before. But the light did fade, and Creep saw where he was.

He was on a bed, sans all of his clothes and his last gun. The gun he missed more than the clothes; he could always fight naked and if he was going to freeze he could kill someone and take their coat. But the absence of the gun made him feel more naked than his lack of clothing. Finding it again would be his top priority.

Someone had brought him inside. The bed he was on was in a spacious extravagant room, with silks draped everywhere and the aroma of perfume hovering in the air. Jasmine and myrrh, that was what filled his nose now. It was better than the sewer. But where was it?

Creep tried to get up to begin looking for his gun, but his side exploded into pain and he collapsed back on the bed. A grimace crossed his face and he put a hand to the rib he had broken in last night’s subterranean scuffle. Another surge of pain told him that he wasn’t going anywhere soon. The pain combined with a new anxiety that he would be discovered, that he would be connected with his actions of last night and be handed over to the cops. That could not happen. It was out of the question.

There was the creaking turn of a doorknob, a sound that seemed to last for an eternity. Creep shook and began to look around himself, searching desperately for some way out of this. His body shook now, both from his nervousness and the pain which still did not want to leave him alone.

“What’s the matter?” asked a smooth voice that traveled through the silks and scents like an entrancing spirit. Its very nature made Creep turn towards it. Across the room, closing the door that led to who knew where else, was a strange and alluring creature. It appeared to be a werecat, a very beautiful one, dressed only in a short dress. What parts of her body could be seen were covered in soft grey fur. Her tail twitched as she put a key into the door and locked it behind her. Creep remembered his nakedness and covered himself up as best he could. The werecat turned to him and gave a little snort.

“I would cover that up if I was you too,” she said as she stalked across the room towards him. “It is embarrassing.”

Her words made blood flow to Creep’s cheeks and he got hot around the neck. In the end he could offer up no response to her, but simply reached out for a sheet and pulled it over himself. The werecat sauntered over to him, her alien eyes looking him up and down.

“So you’re the creep that shot up the party?” she asked. “Huh, didn’t expect you would be a kid.”

She’d gotten his name purely by chance, perhaps. His actions had been those of a creep. He supposed that the news of what had happened at the party would have gotten around by now, there was no denying that. But what Creep could not figure out was how she knew he was a kid. Then he put his hand to his face. The bandages, the black strips that had been wrapped so tight to conceal the very thing she now knew, were gone.

“If you’re wondering about your mummy mask, I got rid of it,” the werecat said. “We’re the only ones in this house who wear masks.”

A reaction was still beyond Creep. Was there anything that he could do? His body was too battered to allow him to flee anywhere.

“Are-are you going to turn me in?” he asked, his voice faltering a little.

The werecat shook her head. “Oh, gosh no,” she said, waving a pawed hand at him. “Do you think I give a damn what happens to the uptights? So long as you don’t kill enough of them to affect my business I’m alright with it. Fill em with bullets, they’ll fill my pockets in their grief.”

The werecat’s response confused Creep. “Where am I?” he asked.

“Empyrean Heights,” the werecat said. “I don’t mean to brag, of course that means I do, but we’re the best burlesque show and whorehouse in the entire city. I’m Concetta Lucca. I run the place.” She stared hard at Creep. He almost could feel his head hurting from her gaze. “And what’s your name, kid?”

“Creep,” he replied.

Concetta stared at him perplexed. “You must have gotten bumped on the head. Or else your parents were teetering idiots when they named you.”

Creep shook his head. “That’s what I-I call myself,” he said.

“Hm. Fitting enough,” Concetta said. She got up and walked over across the room, pushing aside the hanging silks with one hand. “Especially considering what they were saying about you. Though, you don’t appear to be the kind of individual who’d kill an entire room of people.”

Creep only faintly heard her words. In his mind he was already back at last nights party, still running and shooting. He could see the gun flashes in his head, see the pretty people and the creatures falling dead, could hear his laughter still echoing in the halls of his brain. A cold feeling cut right down to his bones, though he didn’t quite know why. His stomach began to churn as he remembered the way he had mowed down all of them, a smile plastered across his bandaged face. He leaned over to one side, and was about to ask Concetta for a bucket or something, when he lost it. Puke went everywhere, all over the silk sheets, on some of the hanging silk, and onto the wooden floor.

Concetta turned around and sighed in frustration. “I swear, men can’t keep anything down,” she said as she walked over. “And you boys are no better, cause you think you’re men, and you drink more than men can.”

“I…I’m not drunk,” Creep said as Concetta grabbed a towel from a nearby rack.

“Yes, I’m sure that’s…” she began to say as she wiped him up. Something caught her attention as she began to sniff the air. Then she wrinkled her nose. “Well, as unpleasant as you do smell, there isn’t any drink in that scent. So what happened? Your little escapade too much for you?”

Creep just shook. He didn’t want this. This was worse than having the police turned in. All of his pride screamed out against this. He would rather be taken to the police, rather be beaten and thrown in some dirty jail cell. This, being treated like a baby by some whorehouse madam, it was pitiful, almost as pitiful as his inability to handle what he had done the night before. He needed to be able to kill without remorse, and he needed to be able to do it again. His work in the city was far from over.

“Hold still, kid,” Concetta said as she wiped up where Creep had puked on himself. “I swear, you’re worse than a nursing cub.”

Creep tried to push her away. “I’m fine,” he said.

“Like hell you are,” Concetta said as she ignored him and continued with her work. “You’ve gone and bitten off more than you could chew, and in more ways that one I might add. What got you all torn up? Did you find a gator in the sewers?”

At another time, when he was not around her at all, perhaps, Creep might have appreciated the irony of Concetta’s remark. However, all he could say was, “No, it was bigger. Some dragon thing.”

Concetta nodded. “Sure it was honey. And I’ll bet he was laying on a mound of gold and everything too.”

Creep tried to ignore the sarcasm and her babying. But she would have none of it, and kept after him even when he tried to turn over. Finally, she drew away.

ind

“I’ll help you up in a bit,” she said. “There’s no use in you laying in your own filth all day. One of the girls will clean up the floor.”

“Where’s my gun?” Creep asked.

“Do you think I’m letting you, a dangerous murderer, have a gun?” Concetta asked. “I’m not giving it back to you until I know you aren’t blowing my head off when I turn my back.”

“Well then, where are my clothes?” Creep asked.

“Being washed,” Concetta said. “And they’ll stay that way for a while. Bast knows that sewer smell clings to everything, especially if it’s soaked in.”

“Do you have anything to wear?” Creep asked.

“Unless you’ve got a kinky streak and fancy a corset or the like, nope,” Concetta said. “You’re stuck in your skin for a while, little boy.”

Creep’s face grew red again. “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

Concetta reached out and stroked Creep’s face. He trembled, and a little smirk crossed her face. “I’ve got my reasons,” she said. “You’ll have to be content with that. I won’t turn you in, even if you do more killing, but I will want certain things from you. Alright, boy?”

Being called boy did nothing for Creep’s pride. He considered simply turning away from her, but he knew that would only prove her point. So he just stared ahead, embarrassment rather than rage running through him. Concetta laughed and stalked away from him, humming some generic speakeasy tune as she sashayed back to the door. With fluid movements she left the room and locked it behind her, leaving Creep alone.