Endz Casino & Resort

by Ben Larracey

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  for Stacy

  1

  Wes DeLeo woke to ringing slot machines and coins falling. An attack on all his senses. The constant barrage of a casino in full motion. Its peak hour.

  In a daze, DeLeo lifted his head from the green felt poker table and opened his eyes. The casino was empty. The tables and slot machines abandoned. Any sign of people was gone. He squinted and scratched his head. Was I dreaming, he thought?

  Confusion struck him. Half drank glasses of wine and beer bottles were left on tables and next to silently flashing slot machines. Next to him a cigarette butt smoldered in an ashtray. DeLeo was alone.

  He reached for one of the poker chips in front of him and spun it between his fingers. His vision blurry, it took a moment to focus. In gold type font across the chip, it read: Endz Casino & Resort.

  Endz Casino? Where am I? He thought, and how did I get here?

  He tried to replay the night before. Maybe it was still night. It was impossible to tell what time it was in here. No clocks, no people to ask.

  The last thing he remembered was a dive bar—a solo acoustic show, somewhere outside of Cleveland. He recalled that for sure. However, a casino? He didn’t remember a casino. He didn’t even know of a casino around here—if he was still in Cleveland—especially one this nice. Impossible. This felt like Las Vegas.

  He rubbed his eyes and saw color spots. He remembered lights. Blue neon car headlights burned into the back of his mind.

  Did he drink too much and blackout? He did that from time to time. Part of the life of being a touring musician. He didn’t feel drunk or hungover. His mind was clear but foggy, like abruptly waking up from a deep sleep.

  Maybe I was drugged, he thought.

  He reached in the pocket of his gray cardigan for his phone. Empty except for a few pieces of fuzz and lint. He checked his black jeans for the keys to his old van— nothing. No phone, no wallet. He looked to his left then right for his guitar. An acoustic Gibson with burnt yellow coloring and black finish. The most expensive thing he ever bought and many would argue the most important thing in his life. He would never leave that behind no matter how drunk he got. Never.

  Cold sweat seeped from his pores at the thought of his guitar stolen. He could never replace it, especially not now. He had bought it during a time in his life when he had a few extra bucks and his music was selling.

  “Welcome to Endz Casino and Resort,” a smoky voice said from a large TV monitor folding down from the ceiling.

  Startled by the abrupt noise cutting through the silence, DeLeo saw the same golden yellow font of “Endz” spin into the frame. The graphics clicked and jumped like footage from some old commercial.

  “The finest resort town around.” The narrator’s voice continued in an old fashioned, hollow, five pack a day cigarette sound, like some long dead Hollywood icon that no one remembered anymore.

  Desaturated footage of lush green lawns with pink flamingos scattered about followed the Endz tittle card.

  “It’s easy to find but nearly impossible to leave,” the voice continued. “We have the best: gambling, service, relaxation, nightlife.”

  The barrage of footage that followed showed images of crowded casino floors, happy guests winning lots of money. A packed ballroom of drunken revilers danced under a crystal chandelier. Overweight men and woman lounged poolside drinking the happy hour special. A middle-aged man chomped on an oversized cigar, while a masseur’s hands disappeared into his back fat. Nearby, a woman smoked a Virginia Slim and received a pedicure to her yellowing toenails.

  “And don’t forget the world famous buffet,” the fat man said into the camera rolling his wet cigar to the corner of his mouth.

  The footage changed to the same fat man standing in front of a massive buffet, his belly tight and ready to pop like a boiled sausage. He scooped cheesy eggs and spoonfuls of bacon onto his plate.

  The advertisement abruptly ended, and the screen went black. The casino returned to the quiet of the ventilation system pumping recycled air in from above.

  “Sir, would you like to play?” A voice startled DeLeo. It was the same smoky, almost British sounding voice of the narrator on the commercial, but this time in person.

  A Dealer now stood at the poker table. He wore a white shirt, black bow-tie, vest with bands around his sleeves. How he got there, and so quickly, DeLeo had no idea, but he felt relieved he could finally get some questions answered.

  “I’m sorry,” DeLeo said, trying to be polite. “I didn’t see you there before.” He rubbed his eyes. The blank, distant stare of the Dealer looking back at him made him uncomfortable. The guy didn’t seem to blink.

  DeLeo nervously laughed, “I must have had a rough night or something. Could you tell me where I am?”

  The Dealer pulled out a deck of cards and shuffled. “You’re at the Endz Resort and Casino sir.”

  DeLeo pointed at the TV which just played the commercial and tried to be polite. “I know. You see, I can’t find my phone.”

  “—Oh, you won’t need that here sir.” The Dealer said interrupting DeLeo. The Dealer shuffled his deck of cards and began to deal.

  Annoyed, DeLeo gently put his hand on the Dealer’s arm, stopping him from laying the cards on the table and said, “Can you stop doing that please?”

  The Dealer instantly returned to his cold, distant stare.

  “Sorry,” DeLeo said, unable to tell if the Dealer was annoyed at him touching his arm. “Please, I’m a little out of it. How did I get here?”

  The Dealer raised his hand pointing to the slowly revolving door at the entrance to the casino. “You came in through the door.”

  DeLeo was losing his patience. “Where is everyone?” he asked now more directly. “I heard voices. There were people here.”

  “We have our good and bad days,” the Dealer replied with an indifference that infuriated DeLeo.

  “You’re a hard guy to read huh?” DeLeo clenched his jaw.

  “Are you ready to play now sir?”

  “Play what?” DeLeo stepped away from the poker table.

  “I don’t even know where the hell I am, and you’ve been playing games with me the whole time.”

  “Very well sir,” the Dealer responded indifferently.

  For the next ten minutes, DeLeo wandered the casino floor, passing still smoldering cigarettes, poker chips left on tables, coins in slot machines. The Dealer seemed to follow DeLeo’s every move as he walked through the casino. His melon shaped head swiveled unnaturally. His eyes like an owl, cold and non-blinking, observed DeLeo’s every step from a distance.

  “Can I help you?” DeLeo yelled from across the casino.

  “Are you ready to play yet, sir?” The Dealers voice hollow and without emotion.

  DeLeo ignored the Dealer and headed toward the double doors at the end of the casino aisle. He opened the doors only to find bricks. A wall of brown and red bricks stacked floor to ceiling.

  Huh?

  DeLeo opened the next set of double doors a few aisles away — more bricks.

  “Is this place under construction or something?�
� DeLeo yelled across the casino floor. A blank stare answered his question.

  “What’s going on here? What type of place is this?” DeLeo snapped walking back toward the poker table.

  “Are you ready to play now sir?” The Dealer asked.

  “I’m not going to play a game with you,” DeLeo pointed to the revolving door. “I take it that’s the only way out of here, huh?”

  “I wouldn’t go out there,” the Dealer advised.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not safe sir. I can’t protect you out there.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  “Protect you from what’s out there. Please sit.”

  “Really?” DeLeo asked rhetorically, then walked out of the casino through the revolving door.

  2

  A cold, still darkness, and faint smell of sulfur greeted DeLeo when he exited the casino. His eyes adjusted to the now almost complete darkness. In front of him lay a massive city, or the remains of one. Enormous high-rises without a single light stretched into the night above. The skyline was like the top of a busted picket fence or a row of chipped and rotted teeth.

  Abandoned cars scattered the street in front of DeLeo and slowly disappeared into the pale encroaching fog snaking through the old stone buildings. Not even the remote glow of a headlight or phone couldn’t be seen anywhere.

  Endz Casino & Resort was at the base of a massive dark tower that stretched into the coal-colored sky above. The only source of light came from the flashing casino sign droning on behind DeLeo.

  “Hello?” DeLeo yelled into the darkness. His voice echoing back.

  No one was here. Not a soul. The city seemed completely empty. Creepy. A chill ran up DeLeo’s spine. He was tempted to go back inside, but a shiny brass railing in front of him caught his attention. He thought it strange and out of place. It was something out of an awards show or special event.

  The railing stretched past the abandoned cars and disappeared like everything else. Underneath the brass railing was a blood red carpet that ran along the damp asphalt.

  “Hello?” DeLeo said again. His voice cracked this time. It was the silence that unnerved DeLeo more than the darkness. His curiosity got the best of him, and he moved down the carpet.

  Where is everyone? He thought.

  He froze at the sound of movement. It was close, but how close he couldn’t tell. The noise wasn’t quite a footstep, but it was something. Suddenly a rat scurried across the carpet and vanished into the darkness. DeLeo jumped at the sight of the rat.

  He calmed himself and continued.

  The fog seemed to be getting thicker the further away he got from the casino. He looked back. The casino was further away than he thought. A hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty feet.

  His ears perked at the sound of something in the shadows. It was different this time. He tried to place it. It wasn’t a footstep, but a dragging sound. Maybe a scraping sound against the wet asphalt.

  It was time to go back he thought. There was nothing out here. Just talk to the Dealer, and play his game. Do whatever he wants and get the hell out of here.

  DeLeo started to head back, but the casino was gone. The fog was too thick. Cold sweat ran down his back. He had gone too far. He started to panic and squinted into the darkness. He remembered the red carpet and looked down. Nothing. Only the cold wet asphalt was beneath his feet.

  You idiot, DeLeo wailed in his mind. What were you thinking?

  “Hello?” he whispered into the fog, alarmed now. “Is anyone there?”

  The slow dragging sound returned. The outline of something moved in the fog. It looked like a person, but he couldn’t be sure. It stood on two legs but hunched over. The arms were too long. Its posture crooked. Its head abnormally large. The figure stood in the cover of the fog, its giant arms slowly swinging back and forth like the pendulums of an old grandfather clock.

  DeLeo didn’t move a muscle. His heart beat faster. What was it doing? Did it see him? Hear him?

  The slow groveling sound continued. There were more of them, whatever they were. A groan came from the dark followed by another one.

  “If you come near me I’ll mess you up!’ DeLeo yelled. He waited for whatever response was imminent, but there was nothing.

  Suddenly he felt a tug on his pant leg. He almost shrieked in freight. A soft voice whispered, “Shh.”

  “Huh?” DeLeo responded. Sheer horror was plastered across his face at the thought of what those things were. He looked down. A woman, maybe thirty, delicate and grimy looking put her skinny finger to her chapped lips.

  “SHH,” she repeated then pointed to the figure back-lit by the mist, its long arms slowly swaying back and forth.

  “What is it?” DeLeo asked in barely a whispered.

  “Quiet,” the woman mouthed without making a sound. She gently put her hand on DeLeo’s mouth to get him to stop talking and said, “They’re fast.” She clasped DeLeo’s sweaty hand. “Get ready to run.”

  DeLeo’s heart sank into a slow deep thud at the implication of her words. The muscle thundered in his chest cavity, shaking him with every pump.

  DeLeo felt the woman squeeze his hand tighter and slowly nod. Whatever it was, it was going to happen soon.

  Suddenly he felt her tug, and before he knew it, he was running as fast as he could.

  His lungs burned as he followed the woman blindly through the night. All he could see was what was right in front of him. Abandoned cars, damaged street lights dangling above.

  A crash came from behind them, followed by a groan. Whatever those things were, they were chasing them.

  “Fast!” The woman yelled, this time not bothering to whisper.

  DeLeo followed the woman’s every step and turn. His eyes watered from the cold air, but it didn’t matter. She was his eyes. His only job was to run and not trip over anything. DeLeo could hear the grunting and groaning of those things not far behind them now. From the sound, he tried to determine how many there were. There had to be more than three or four, but it was tough tell. The sounds blended together.

  After running for what seemed like a block or two a structure emerged from the dark, an old building made of brick and stone. “In here,” the woman yelled pulling him toward the building.

  A cloud of dust coughed up when they entered. They were in a lobby of some kind. Chairs were flipped over and scattered all over the bleak room. DeLeo knew it was an old bank at the sight of the teller stations.

  “This way,” the woman said pointing to the back.

  A loud crash of shattering glass exploded from behind them. DeLeo looked back and saw six of those grotesque things jump through the bank window. He couldn’t make out their features. He could only hear their snarl. All he knew for sure was they weren’t human.

  In the back of the bank there was a large, closed vault made of solid steel. The woman picked up a wrench lying next to the door and started banging. She screamed in a blind panic, frightening DeLeo even more.

  The creatures were getting closer. The violent hammering on the door echoed through the small bank corridor and certainly gave away their location.

  DeLeo peered around the corner. He still couldn’t make them out, but they glistened in the darkness. They seemed slimy, like the skin of a frog or snake. Some creature. One looked up at DeLeo with giant black pupils. From his brief glimpse in the dark, it looked like nothing he had ever seen or knew existed.

  “Hurry!” DeLeo shouted. Sweat poured from his face at the sight of the beasts coming down the corridor.

  The woman banged on the vault door even harder. DeLeo’s ears rang.

  “Open up!” She screamed. “I’m back! Open!”

  Suddenly, latches and bolt locks clicked from the inside of the vault and the door opened. They quickly entered.

  3

  The vault
door slammed behind them, the steel on steel mechanism locking it securely. The concrete floor shook beneath DeLeo. A short silence followed, then the scratching and clawing of fingernails against steel came from outside.

  DeLeo backed away from the entrance praying the old steel vault would hold. The scratching turned violent and chaotic before changing into a frenzy of banging, then suddenly there was nothing.

  Silence.

  “What the hell were those things?” DeLeo looked for the woman in the darkness of the vault.

  He saw her run to a nearby table, grab an object and flip it over. In the dim flicker of lantern light DeLeo realized it was an hourglass. The white sand slowly falling through the tiny opening, sparkling like water across a pond.

  “What is that?” DeLeo asked.

  “That was too close,” DeLeo heard a booming voice say. A male voice from somewhere in the vault.

  They weren’t alone.

  DeLeo let his eyes adjust to the golden glow of the small lantern illuminating the room. He saw three faces, all wide-eyed staring back at him. Light beamed across the parts of their faces that didn’t fall in shadow. A woman, forties, with red hair wearing a large cloth dress, like the Mennonites or Amish. In her arms, a teenager sat curled on the floor. He was maybe fourteen, had messy hair and wore a Nirvana t-shirt. The third wide-eyed face staring at DeLeo belonged to a clean-cut, young man wearing a varsity jacket. He was college-aged and looked terrified.

  DeLeo knew the deep male voice couldn’t have come from any of them. He was about to speak when the booming baritone cut through the silence again.

  “Where have you been? I’ve, we’ve,” the voice corrected himself, “ been worried sick about you Sadie.”

  DeLeo looked in the direction of the voice. A large police officer with a square, serious face stepped out of the dark and into the glare of the lantern. He was both tall and wide, not fat, but muscular. He wore a blue uniform and the large leather boots of a state trooper. A leather harness across his barrel chest connected to his firearm on his hip.

  DeLeo strained his eyes in the dark looking for the woman, Sadie—the cop had called her. Maybe she could give him some information, he thought.