[Sodium_noir] FW: Mortals & Ghouls at play in Darktown

[eagandigh]

Mbango, Antoine, Onitt and the others
strange mortal, 2 ghouls, even more mortals
 
Darktown, Saturday night
 
The man called Mbango slowly walked along the dirty pavements of the
streets of Darktown. He had slipped out of the Den of Ogoun shortly
after finishing the ceremony. He had avoided the risen Bêtenoir and left
the filles de la nuit to their own devices. Night had descended deeply
upon the ghetto, but still there was life on the streets. Compared to a
few nights ago the neighbourhood was quiet. Mbango walked with
confidence, something a lone figure seldom did in Darktown. But here in
the quartier hatienne every nightly predator knew that this strange man,
newly arrived, walked with the Papa’s permission. To prey on him would
spell disaster of a most terrible sort.

Mbango was deep in thought. The last days had been taxing. He had
invested a lot in the ritual although he had only assisted as a guide.
He still remembered the shock on Tuesday night, just as the ritual had
started. Suddenly the other side had been filled with ancient Les
Invisibles. The impact of their fighting had nearly broken the ritual.
He had been sure that more than once he had lost the loa that walked in
the flesh. Ogoun Bêtenoir. The wrath of Les Invisibles had been
terrifying, but that wrath had seemed to be contained amongst them. He
rubbed his temples. For a disturbance of this magnitude his knowledge of
the other side, as extensive as it was, was not enough. Some of his
mentors had the power to look into this, but they were not here. In this
he was alone. He would have to look into this problem, but not tonight.

He navigated the streets of the ghetto like someone who knew the streets
by heart, not like a stranger recently arrived from Haiti. He stopped at
a rundown tenement, entered it and after ascending to the fourth floor,
opened the door to his little apartment. The staircase was dirty and
graffiti tags of many years decorated the walls. A large vèvè was
painted on his door. The sign of Legba. The walls of his apartment were
also decorated with the vèvès of all the major loas. Damballah, of
course, Legba, opener of the ways, guardian of the journey between the
worlds, Aida-Wedo, the rainbow serpent, Erzulie, loa of love, lust and
beauty, Baron Samedi, Loco, the ruler of herbs, healing and visions, and
Ogoun, the Chainbreaker, loa of conflict and metal.

Mbango was tired; he had given a lot of himself to the ritual. He took a
bottle of rum from the cupboard and settled on a chair on his tiny
balcony. He took a deep sip and watched the street, while he considered
Les Invisibles.

 

 

Antoine had retired to his apartment in the Den of Ogoun after the
ceremony and a later talk to the risen Bêtenoir. He had wanted to know
everything that had occurred during his absence. Antoine had given him a
rough sketch of all he was aware of. The annihilation of the Sharks, the
Tongs, the police cracking down on the Sharks in Darktown, of the two
detectives noising around the ghetto before. The two detectives had
occupied Antoine’s thoughts more than he cared to admit for the last
couple of days. They even had gotten an audience with the Houngan.
Antoine had memorized their names, Cody Brannigan and Hope Zagorsky, and
had drilled everything about them out of Onitt, who had actually met
them. Antoine hated unknown Cops in Darktown. They always were a
wildcard. He had the local Cops in his pockets, or better, the pockets
of the Children. They were known, they were paid, and they were docile.
>From them, no unwanted shit would come. 

Now Antoine was standing under the shower, washing off the sweat and
blood he had accumulated during the ceremony. He let the water rush over
his head. He was still tired, even getting the loa’s blood had only
slightly diminished that. But there was one last thing to do tonight and
he shuddered at the thought of it. But the Bêtenoir’s order had been
explicit. “Clean sse ssecret ‘aven. Get rid of everyssing ssat iss down
ssere.” He didn’t dare to not follow that order and instead take a
deserved rest. Ah, no rest for the wicked, he thought, left the shower,
clothed himself and went to his living/bedroom.

Ninive lounged on the bed, idly eating yoghurt. Her eyes took in
Antoine. “You won’t stay here tonight?” Antoine grabbed his two Colt
Pythons and tucked them into their usual places on his body. “No, still
one thing unfinished for today. I’ll need to leave the Den, so don’t
wait up.” He nodded and left the apartment. Her eyes stared at the door,
a glimmer slowly arising.

He went down, met up with Onitt and grabbed hold of Dédé and Jaleel. “We
have business to take care of, follow me.” They entered the now deserted
petit temple, the revellers of the ceremony had already left for other
parts of the building or gone out into the night of Darktown. Antoine
moved to the Poteau Mitan. He reverently touched the pole and fingered
around it. There was a slight clacking sound and the Poteau plus the
floor four feet around it lowered slowly down, revealing a hole and a
ladder leading down. An awful smell wafted out of the hole. “Great! Are
you ready? Down we go.” He grunted and disappeared down the hole,
followed by the others.

Antoine found a light switch and light flooded the room, lightening the
grisly scene. Onitt stared at the dead and mutilated bodies lying there,
at the blood covering the floor and the walls, the entrails strewn
around. “Shit! That is really fucked up!” He said, a slightly greyish
pallor around his nose. Jaleel nervously eyed the scene, while holding a
handkerchief to his nose. Antoine held his mouth with one hand, trying
desperately not to vomit. He had imagined it being bad, but it was
worse. To think that Maurice was capable of this
 Only Dédé studied the
bodies with a detached air. No flicker of any muscle betrayed any
feeling he might have at seeing the scene. It looked like he was
committing a few new ideas to memory.

Antoine looked at his compatriots, noticed the lack of reaction in Dédé.
This guy is cold as a fish, he thought. “Well, gentlemen, I think we
need several plastic bags, a transport vehicle of some kind and a few 

mops.” He said at last, after getting a grip on himself. “Fuck!” Onitt
groaned. “Any idea where we could get rid of those? No real point jus’
throwing them into da river, man.” Antoine tried to find a place to put
his hand on the wall to brace himself, but found none and looked
disgusted at the bloody smear on his hand. “I might have an idea. We
need to let these bodies disappear. Completely. The Cops already noised
around our ghetto, no need to give them more fodder to sink their teeth
in. A few more cases of disappearance though, won’t harm anyone. Will
probably be attributed to the Sharks. But for this they must vanish and
stay vanished.” Onitt raised an eyebrow. “You are not thinking about
?”
Antoine made a grimace. “Yes.” Onitt sighed. “Shit.”

 

TBC

 

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