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Act Two (Ch. 30) - Keine Lust; or, Excuses Excused

Act Two (Ch. 30) - Keine Lust; or, Excuses Excused

Oh shit. Esper James's adrenal glands found another burst of hormones to pump into her veins as the text's truth, and its implications, began to set in. Like a junkie in a delusional episode she felt her body freeze and lash out simultaneously, muscles frozen, locomotion stilled, but mind screaming at her as her pupils dwindled to pinpricks and her veins throbbed from a sudden blood rush. It was euphoric and abhorrent in equal parts: dredging up memories of their date together and the night that followed, but then the rest of the night as well, and even further, Judas's rage and sadistic inclinations. Esper James had shot a Tsang employee less than an hour ago. How could she ever explain that to her boss? To the cruel, demanding vampire whose favor she relied upon for further employment? Would that employment even be possible anymore?

She cried out in despair as her racing synapses considered her scant few options, neurons firing like automatic weaponry as she tried to come up with what to do next. Mentally, she had been completely taken out of their little escape plan, and so Purity had to drag her along with what strength the mere mortal had remaining, keeping the three of them moving up and out of the secondary hatch. They were met with the dwindling midday light as they arose, the scent of smog now tinged with the scent of something burning. Looking up at the Kehler Complex, on the floor where Esper James's apartment had been, smoke now rolled out thick and black from a hallway window - it was noxious, and reeked of plastics and synthetics, but the ghoulette could also pick up another undertone: blackened, crisping flesh.

It was like a crematorium. There were only a few in Vitus, present so that those that had died or wished to die a true-death could be done away with, but even driving or venturing near them left that bitter, lingering odor on the nose to the point of burning it into the brain. Smelling one of the crematoriums, twenty-four hour operations, would never leave one's mind. And now this? It reeked of the same kind of flesh-being-carbonized smell that crematory ashes had. It only raised her sense of dread, heightened the upflow of terrible nausea and panic in her heart, and she found herself gagging and nearly retching from anxiety as she was pulled along.

The trio raced down the streets while Esper James considered what to even say to Judas. Kell led the charge, taking the other two into a small, back-alley butchery about a block and a half away, silently thankful that Vitus allowed open carry gun ownership for its citizens due to rising personal safety concerns in the last decade or so. It wouldn't even raise anyone's eyes to see the three of them jogging about with weapons drawn unless they went to make hostilities with them. And so in they slipped, past waist-depth red linen curtains adorned with kanji with meant 'HOT FOOD', small cherry blossom embroideries underlining the hem of the cloth sheets.

The butchery was practically empty within, the only patron sitting alone with an enormous bowl of mystery-meat ramen half-slurped in front of him. The interior was a rather spartan affair, overall: five small tables all sat approximately three feet off the ground, with low seats on either side of them, and the floor and walls were tile-lined till halfway up the wall with miniscule whiteish-blue clay squares. Only a few red paper lamps hung from the ceiling as decoration, the rest of the lighting coming from bare bulbs hanging on bare wires, the paper lanterns sitting on either side of a long bar-like construction, complete with hard plastic stools, on the far end of the room.

As the trio pushed inside, a bell could be hear jingling in the distance. Kell took up position aiming at the curtains they had entered through while they awaited service, the other two women instinctively moving further in, Esper James finally beginning to actually type something with her shaky fingers while Purity urged her forward. After some agonizing seconds of silent waiting, the lone patron trying to ignore the three distressed women entering the butchery, a man in white chef's attire with a stain-riddled apron and limp toque pushed into the dining room from the plastic double-doors that led to the kitchen. He began to break into a welcoming spiel, but upon seeing who it was he was welcoming, his demeanor shifted from casual workday relaxation to a subtly hunched stance of action.

He stood at around five foot and ten inches, a chef's knife in his hand, his physique toned but not quite broad or muscular. From his appearance alone, with pallid skin and eyes which were softly milky, his second-living nature was revealed - and when he spoke, his mouth full of normal molars and teeth dedicated to the crushing of bone and grinding of stubborn gristle made his zombified nature plain. Otherwise, his hair was a sandy blonde, and a light goatee of little more than stubble lined his frankly desiccated lips. Milky brown eyes looked straight at Kell, barely even registering the other two women.

"Oi! Kell! What's wrong? Come on, come on, get yourselves back into the kitchen, we'll talk there. C'mon, I've got some boxes I need help moving." His tone was measured to be that of an angry superior, a boss shouting at a subordinate to hop to work, to quit slacking. In truth, it was likely for that lone customer's benefit that he even put up that level of pretense. Kell nodded in affirmation, now moving to hustle her other associates back behind the counter of the bar and through the plastic doors to the kitchen. The zombie himself didn't even move, going instead to take up a casual elbows-propped position on the bartop, to try and look as though it was just another day at work. The lonely patron loudly slurped wheat-based noodles at their table, eyes fixated on the dark brown broth and floating chunks of hot meat within.

Once within the kitchen, a crude affair that certainly wouldn't pass any health inspections, Kell gestured towards a trio of stacked boxes in the corner. "C'mon! We've gotta move these. Get them away from the wall. Don't worry about him; he'll be fine. We've got to fucking go, though." Further explanation was eschewed in favor of action - Kell's shotgun being placed upon a metal prep-table so that her hands were free to move the boxes, Purity swiftly joining her, not even attempting to shake Esper James out of her funk so that the ghoulette might help. For all the pinkette knew, Esper James could be going catatonic - refusing to move, refusing to think, the stress of today all finally bearing down on her. It was something Purity was familiar enough with, going through it himself, and so she had some empathy for the blonde's situation.

For EJ's part, she was still struggling to even think of what to say, only a few words typed out on the screen of her phone. Slowly, steadily, she began to force herself to make further progress: to actually say something to her superior. To the woman who had broken her down for all these years, mentally for most of them, physically doing so only recently. "Hey Jude. I talked to HR, took a day of unscheduled off-time because I feel sick today. I'll see you tomorrow." - EJPW. She hit send, the message only sitting for a few seconds on unread before that little ellipsis of indication that someone was responding popped up. Esper James's eyes remained fixated on the screen of her phone, a dry, painful retch of substanceless nausea causing her already roiling stomach to do a backflip within her abdomen.

"EJ, that's fine. I'm just wondering where you are because I heard through the grapevine that shots were fired within your housing complex. Are you ok, you little trouble magnet? Send me a picture, let me know you're still good; if not, I'll send some guys over to keep you safe." - J. ALIGHIERI. Once again EJ was stricken by how sweet Judas had become with her, how caring she had recently turned, how benevolent. It was a welcome change in the blonde's mind, one that kept her both grounded and sent her already floating brain straight into space. Was Judas the one who had send the Property Reclamation officer to her apartment in the first place? Was it out of concern for her wellbeing, to try and keep her safe from some unknown threat? Kehler Complex had been at the center of some serious stuff recently, and Esper James doing a no-call no-show was very unlike her.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

EJ's fingers moved more rapidly now, the active reply spurring her to engage Judas more directly. "Sure. Gimme a second to get the lighting right. I'm out to eat right now, but I did hear the gunshot as I was leaving." The message was sent and then the pressure to produce an accompanying picture was turned up: How could EJ get a picture that looked even a little like she was in her apartment and not fucking freaking out in the middle of a strange new environment? She settled on something after only a moment of consideration, the need to produce proof outweighing the need to make it convincing. She leaned back over one of the metal prep-tables, head laid against the cool, flat surface, her phone producing a small camera snap as she took a selfie. She had tried to smile. It looked like shit, and she still had bits of beef from her lunch caught between her teeth, but that made it more convincing?

She sent the picture, setting her phone to sleep mode and putting it back into her pocket. Right on time, actually - Purity was just about to walk over to grab her, Kell having just finished moving the final box aside. A small hole, only a foot or two high, had been carved away in the wall - far smaller than the boxes of produce which had once concealed it, and the hole was pitch dark. Kell rushed over to grab her shotgun off the table as Purity took Esper James by the wrist, dragging her over towards their escape tunnel. "EJ, c'mon! We've gotta fuckin' go! Whoever you're texting can wait, it's not more important than your life!" Purity's reprimand was meaningful and caring, but still, she had no idea who she was talking about. Judas was not the type of woman who one should keep waiting.

EJ was allowed to go first this time, getting on hands and knees, the dirt and grime of the tunnel immediately marking her clothing as she awkwardly crawled forth. It reminded her of the Chateau Nocturne in a way: headed forward into endless darkness, only her heightened senses to guide her, wandering through the everblack with only touch and scent to keep her from faltering. Behind her came Purity, a comforting presence in a discomforting situation, but still, it wasn't much compared to the foreboding passage they were slowly making their way through. The sound of Kell entering the tunnel, her shotgun scraping against the rough concrete walls, marked the final member of their procession joining in.

After almost a minute straight of crawling, Esper James finally emerged into a cold and dark room, still pitch black, now containing an aura of chill that was nearly freezing in its frigidity. Purity came next, instinctively throwing her arms around EJ and pulling her close into a one-sided hug as they awaited Kell, and then finally, Kell joined them. When their third made her way into the lightless room, she rose to a stand judging by the sound of her shoes, and a light switch was flicked - the once unlit tomb of a room was plunged into the hateful radiance of fluorescent tubes set into the ceiling, revealing the entirety of the room to the trio.

They stood in a garage. A very normal-looking garage, to be blunt. A metal rack with tools sat to one side; a few spare tires hung upon the wall, above bright red gasoline cans; in the center sat a singular delivery van, a catering van from the looks of it, plain white with the words 'BENSON CHU'S FOOD FOR YOU' emblazoned on the sliding side-door in bright orange letters, surrounded by a messy starburst of red made to resemble a paint splotch. The driver's side was already occupied, from the looks of it: a big man with sandy blonde hair and a white uniform sat within, not quite the same as the man who had been in the kitchen, but close enough to be siblings. He awoke from the nap he had been taking with a start and a bit of flailing, but turning over to see Kell, he gestured towards the sliding door nearest to the trio.

Kell wasted no time in grabbing it and throwing it wide, opening it for the two other women to hop right in. The interior was all hard metal and no additional seats, though a few large boxes of tablecloths could be found within. "Get in the boxes! Pull tablecloths over yourself. If we get stopped for a check or something, they won't check a box full of linens. Go!" Kell motioned for the other two women to get in with the barrel of her shotgun, the black cylinder catching the light of the fluorescents in the ceiling, her emphasis like spurs to the flanks of a pair of horses. Purity nearly shoved Esper James forward, her flagging energy nearly spent, before rushing in alongside her to clamber into one of the boxes.

EJ followed suit after a moment, and once she was beneath the linens, she pulled her phone back out. She could hear the muffled sounds of Kell hopping in, slamming the door shut, and then climbing into a box of her own. The engine of the vehicle started up with a low rumble which became a roar, and the garage door creaked open with a sound reminiscent of the cacophony of a dying cat. Tires made a crunch as they pushed pebbles aside and ground further small stones into the concrete, and then soon after, into the asphalt. They were on the road. Soon, they would be safe. Soon, they would be free to hide.

Esper James took this time to text back, seeing that Judas had responded. "Hey EJ, is that a gun? I didn't know you carried a gun. Are you sure you're ok? Here, I'll send some guys over just to ease my own mind. I promise that you can just send them away when they arrive, no worries. Can't wait to see you tomorrow." - J. ALIGHIERI. The message was capped off with a black emote of a heart, shiny and dark, much like the catsuit Purity wore that first night at the Jezzebelle. The secretary-turned-outlaw's heart leapt in her throat as she read, eyes once again going wide, the tremble in her petite figure returning to the point she nearly dropped her phone? A gun? What gun? What had Judas seen, she wondered.

She looked back to the picture she had sent, and indeed, there was a hint of the pump and barrel of Kell's shotgun at the top of the image, near EJ's head. Tears welled at the corner of Esper James's eyes as she drank in every detail of the image: her previously-crying face had reddened eyes, her pallid skin was even clammier-looking than usual, and her hair was a tousled mess. She looked like she had been fucking kidnapped. God, how had she been so stupid? How had all this happened? She punched feebly at the plastic wall of the cramped box she had concealed herself in, unable to bite back bitter sobs of despair and regret, wishing for another time today that she could simply turn back time. Why was life so cruel? Why, after thirty years of second-life within Vitus, and fourty-some overall, had the ageless little blonde finally had love bestowed just for it all to be torn away?

Purity spoke up then. "So, Kell, right? Why the fuck do you have an escape plan just ready and waiting on contingency? I mean, I appreciate you getting us out of there, but still... Why?" Silence filled the van, the radio not even playing as they hit the freeway, but Kell spoke up after a moment. Both other women quieted down so they could listen.