Rue: Perdido Part 4

An Undertaker's Task

I hadn’t really expected the visitor’s center to look normal when we reached it. I just wasn’t really expecting it to have become a stepped pyramid either. They hadn’t fooled around with the color; they hadn’t mucked about with the size of the first floor.

However, there were now second, third, and fourth floors. Each one was an equally rectangular, boring little building stacked atop the other. Stairs ascended the side of the building, giving access to each layer of the still under construction pyramid.

Rue: Perdido Part 3

Dead Tired

Those of you unfortunate enough to have been in a similar situation assuredly understand what I’m about to say. The rest of you will, unfortunately, have to use your imaginations. If you took every piece of meat that has ever gone rancid in your personal refrigerator over the course of your entire lifetime, dipped it in liquid fecal matter, and cooked it in a rice steamer, you would understand what feral dog breath truly smells like. Werewolf breath smells only slightly better. I have to imagine that’s because they don’t eat their own shit. I don’t think they do anyway.

Rue: Perdido Part 2

Lookin' Up From Six Feet Down

For the first time in weeks, my optimism wasn’t entirely misplaced. There was no trouble getting past the guards at the gates. There were no guards at the gates. There were no gates. The sign at the main entrance lay in splinters on the ground as blood dribbled out of the guardhouses in sticky streams.

“That certainly makes this easy.”

“Easy? What’s easy about this? People are dead!”

“True enough.”

Rue: Perdido Part 1

Land Of The Dead

People always complain about the smell of wet dog in the car. I doubt ever will again. A dead man on a hot day on real leather is far worse. Rick was fidgeting in the back seat; fumbling with his hat, inspecting his nails, and untying/retying his shoes. He was understandably nervous. We knew that his mayoral nemesis hadn’t tried to have him killed. Instead, things were even worse.

Someone was scavenging bits and pieces of the dead in order to bring to life people like Sgt. Johnson. Johnson was dealt with now at least, having found justice at the fiery fingers of those he stole from. His passing though, hadn’t helped us much. All we knew was that the source of this misery was in Cairo District.