Boston Posh

by Wol-vriey

  And polar animal screams.

  “Yes!” Gala-clitoris yelled from atop Vagina Fish. “The North Pole has finally cum and there’s food for everyone. Let’s feast, sisters!”

  The heads studding its labia nodded their affirmation.

  They feasted messily, spraying chunks of bear and sealmeat everywhere like an uncapped blender. Vagina Fish grew more and more blood-splattered by the moment.

  Those polar creatures closest to it tried fleeing, tried to force a way through the packed animal mass to temporary safety. To no avail.

  Malone was too bemused to be horrified by the day’s bizarro overload. He looked up, up, and away.

  A belated look at his blood hand confirmed that its ‘Gay Fist’ button had now disappeared also. Only the ‘Lesbian Fist’ zit-button adorned its rear.

  ***

  “Nothing like open skies, matey,” Captain Gumdrop said. It patted Malone warmly on the shoulders with a flipper. Unlike the polar menagerie and boat, the walrus captain wasn’t made of semen. It however stank like a soaked carpet.

  Malone moved upwind from it.

  The boat’s sail filled with wind. It rose higher above the North Pole’s glans. All around it cum clouds dissolved and rained on the erstwhile MOM camp, the semen-fall transforming into more bears, seals, and penguins on hitting the ground.

  The walrus stood in the boat’s prow, piloting it by an old-fashioned ship’s wheel. It swung the boat starboard; they headed out over the Milk Sea.

  “We go South now, matey.”

  “Who sent you?” Malone asked the walrus.

  It laughed, stroked its left tusk, twiddled its whiskers. “What ye care, matey, s’long as I gets ye back to Boston?” It focused its sad black eyes on him, pointed to the ship’s cabin with a flipper. “Ah, ye be wanting to go below deck, matey, grab ye’self fresh clothes from one ye lockers. Ye look like ye’ve been fighting pirates in ye Caribbean.”

  Malone nodded. He turned and headed for the cabin. Beyond it, the North Pole pierced the distant sky like a black lighthouse.

  All else in sight was the whiteness of the Milk Sea and a myriad brown-skinned breast hills with dark chocolate nipples that spurted milk almost as high as the airboat. Far distant in the east, Malone thought he could make out Traven’s beetle shape, but he wasn’t certain—there was just a black blob distorting the unending whiteness of the milk horizon.

  He sighed, went downstairs to change his clothes.

  ***

  Malone was bothered as he descended the stairs. He’d now missed two of Frank’s riddle notes, and still had no idea where the sicko was.

  He considered: The good thing is that I’m on my way out of the Afterwife, and still in one piece to boot.

  The air-yacht’s under-deck was a short corridor flanked by two doors on each side. Malone opened the first door on his right, and stepped in.

  Then something hit him on the back of the head and he was knocked out cold.

  CHAPTER 68

  Bulldog, Gorgeous, Lucy Tang.

  South Boston. Mid-afternoon.

  495 Summer Street—the Barnes building—was a monolithic nine-storey concrete and glass construct. Though heavily scorched, it remained relatively undamaged.

  The three cars conveying Bulldog, Gorgeous, and Sookie’s gang pulled up in front of the Barnes Building. They spilled out of their vehicles, keeping close to the sidewalk to evade observation.

  Bulldog was nervous. He didn’t like being over here in South Boston. His unease showed on his ugly face. His muscles felt like steel knots. Meat high tension wires.

  Bulldog couldn’t help his fear: Every so often groups of dragons flew hither and thither overhead, crossing the street like squadrons of USAF jets. The reptiles always looked down at the Chinese contingent, then ignored them.

  “It ain’t fair,” he told Gorgeous. “Us whites getting eaten, and you lot don’t.”

  Gorgeous, plain face severe as a mandarin’s, scowled. “Stop being nervous, darling,” she whispered so the other Chinese wouldn’t hear. “I’ve told you there’s no danger.”

  Bulldog still wasn’t convinced. “Damn fuckin’ reptile racists. I don’t see why—”

  Gorgeous squeezed his bicep painfully. “Stop worrying, Bully!” she hissed severely. “Let’s get this over with!”

  Bulldog relaxed. Gorgeous’ strict voice always calmed him.

  Just like Herbie’s had.

  ***

  Like he did from time to time, Bulldog tried thinking hard now. He gave up,—it hurt too much—his bashed-in skull refused to permit it. Thoughts clashed with each other in his head like warring armies, like his brain was playing concept pinball.

  He relaxed back into comfortable moronity, raring like an animal—a jungle predator—for the conflict ahead.

  Action was great, it came instinctively to Bulldog to fight, to hurt, to kill. But cogitating . . .

  Bulldog was delighted that now Herbie was dead, he had Gorgeous to think for him. It was a relief to simply follow orders/instructions—to be pointed in the right directions.

  ***

  Gorgeous, on her part, was smart. Once Herbie had gone missing, she’d quickly recognized the mental vacuum in Bulldog’s head and slotted herself into it.

  It was to her advantage: She needed a man, and tough woman that she was, she wanted the toughest man available to enhance her badass reputation in Chinatown.

  Bulldog’s cretinous ugliness made no difference to Gorgeous.

  What did, was that he always got hard for her in bed and fucked her when and how she asked him to. Doggy-style was best, and once she’d spread her legs and labia and instructed him in the Ying-Yang arts, he’d become great at cunnilingus too.

  Best of all, Bulldog did whatever Gorgeous told him to.

  To date, she’d hid his inability to think for himself from everyone but her Aunt Sookie Ling.

  Sookie, thinking fast, had used Bulldog’s violent reputation to assemble her own gang.

  Sookie’s gang wasn’t yet a triad, but it was getting damn close to being one.

  ***

  Wang Hao, a thin hard-faced man, came over to talk to Gorgeous and Bulldog.

  “We’re ready,” he said. “Do we attack now?”

  Gorgeous looked at Bulldog. “We go in?”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “Dumb bitch ain’t escapin’ with Sookie’s stash. But we gotta watch for traps.”

  Gorgeous looked the gangsters over. Six ruthless men, all armed with machine guns.

  “You heard Bully,” she said. “Watch your step. And don’t shoot unless it’s absolutely necessary—Aunt Sookie wants Lucy alive.”

  Wang Hao nodded. He waved his men toward the building’s front entrance.

  ***

  Staring through the five concrete floors beneath her, Lucy Tang grimly watched the armed men climbing the staircase to her sixth floor hideout.

  Her gorgeous face was set cold as marble.

  In addition to several other abilities, dragonreich allowed Lucy to see through solid objects. When, like now, she was high on the drug, the world around her became an architect’s blueprint, sharp stark lines overlaid over other lines—reality in wireframe mode.

  She looked through the six cautiously climbing men, down to where Gorgeous and Bulldog were discussing. After a while, the pair joined the climb to her apartment.

  Come and die, all of you, Lucy thought.

  Her emotions were distraught.

  Sookie’s thugs being here meant Emil had been captured. Her darling was surely dead now, killed by Bulldog.

  Lucy’s heart throbbed violently with the pain of her loss.

  Hate filled her as she watched Bulldog’s squat simian shape transpose itself up the steps.

  I’ll kill you all, she raged in her mind. You murdering bastards. And I’m saving something extra special for you, Bulldog, for killing my love. And your ugly bitch Gorgeous gets to watch me do you, before I kill her too.

  She looked b
ack up through the stairs. Wang Hao was now on the landing beneath her.

  A bitter grin on her pink lips, she watched him wave his machine gun, signal the others to be quiet.

  Lucy picked up Sookie’s jar of pure reich from her center table.

  “This is for you, Emil,” she growled. She shook a pile of the iridescent powder into her palm and snorted it.

  Nothing happened for the longest minute, then Lucy’s body melted like candle wax.

  The liquid meat flowed out of her dress and coated the floor and walls of her living room. It writhed as it went, like a flattened snake. It spread itself thin, then thickened, then thinned out again. It spread over the ceilings into a seamless blend. Only the doors and windows were untouched.

  In under a minute, however, the room again looked normal. Instead of its original blue color, it was now a pale flesh tone, its texture smooth as a virgin’s breasts, as a baby’s backside.

  The room waited impatiently.

  ***

  Wang Hao kicked Lucy’s door in. It crashed off its hinges onto the floor with a dull thud.

  The men rushed into the apartment.

  “This is a horrendous color to paint a room.” Gorgeous said on entering. “I can’t imagine anyone having such bad taste.”

  “Bulldog looked around. “Looks ordinary to me. Normal horrible girly pink.”

  Gorgeous’ nose wrinkled in disgust. “That’s the problem. It isn’t pink, it’s flesh—skin tone.”

  She scowled. “Typical drag queen bad taste—I guess anal sex makes you see garish colors when you cum. Sickening.”

  She winced. “Damn, she painted the floor and ceiling too?”

  Bulldog noticed and frowned. “Yeah, now that’s real odd.”

  Wang Hao had found Sookie’s pilfered jar of dragonreich. He took it over to his bosses. “This is here, but Lucy isn’t.”

  Gorgeous regarded the glittering powder with distaste. She had no use for narcotics— they dulled the fighting senses. A kung fu student has to keep her body pure at all times, her mind clear as a mountain stream. Only thus were you superior to your opponent.

  Bulldog nodded at the jar of reich Wang Hao held. “Sookie will be pleased to have that back.”

  Gorgeous grunted a distracted reply. “Something isn’t right about this room,” she said. “I can sense it.”

  “Forget the friggin’ color,” Bulldog said. “Let’s go.”

  Gorgeous nodded, eager to be free from the oppressive feeling the room gave her, the odd sense that it was watching and listening to them.

  “We’ve no idea where Lucy’s gone,” she told Wang Hao. “Or when the thieving bitch will be back. Have four men wait here—”

  “The door’s gone,” Bulldog said.

  Her nerves already on edge, Gorgeous spun around to see what he meant.

  There was no doorway. Behind the kicked-in door now lying on the floor, the entrance had sealed over.

  Gorgeous looked down, caught a glimpse of joining edges of pink at the bottom of the missing entranceway.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “The windows are covering over too, boss!” a young gangster yelled.

  They looked around them. The pink wall paint was streaming down the windows, sealing them off also. The room’s two other doors were also closing off.

  Bulldog pulled out his gun. “It’s a fucking trap!”

  “This room,” Gorgeous said, wide-eyed. “I think it’s Lucy.”

  “Lucy,” Wang Hao repeated.

  The gangsters stared at each other in horror.

  They all stood and waited, confused about what to do next, what to expect.

  Then the flesh-colored walls and floor split apart into stacked rows of mouths lined with sword-long teeth.

  The mouths began spitting teeth at the gangsters.

  ***

  Wang Hao was the first hit. Punctured by two teeth, one through his head, the other through his heart, he toppled over into an impossible chasm in the floor that gobbled him up like a crocodile’s mouth. The jar of dragonreich fell in with him.

  “Shit!” Bulldog yelped.

  The gangsters stood no chance. In under a minute, all except Gorgeous and Bulldog lay dead or dying on the floor, punctured through multiple times. Blood bubbled from their bodies onto the pink floor where the mouths drank it up like teens slurping sodas.

  Gorgeous knocked flying teeth away from Bulldog and herself. She spun left and right, blocking, punching, and kicking the flying enamel spears out of the air. Her defensive motions were fluid and automatic; easier for her than defending against an assailant’s punches.

  “We need to do something!” she yelled to Bulldog. “It doesn’t look about to run out of teeth!”

  “You’re right!” He grabbed a bloody machine gun off the floor, swung it at the huge mouth opposite them, and began firing.

  The mouth’s teeth fractured. Behind the shards, its throat was a dark tunnel penetrated by a tongue like an endless road. Bulldog spun from that mouth and fired at the mouths on the other walls.

  Under them, the floor rippled with teeth.

  Gorgeous ducked a tooth the length of an elephant tusk. At the same time, she skipped off the floor and kicked another tooth away.

  As she landed, the floor slid sideways under her, a yawning mouth that had moments before been smooth skin.

  Gorgeous dropped waist-deep into the midst of a circle of teeth.

  She screamed as the meat floor bit into her.

  Bulldog turned and saw Gorgeous was trapped. He rushed over to her and began firing into the mouth. Its teeth shattered, but as fast as they broke, the mouth grew fresh teeth that stabbed into Gorgeous again.

  Gorgeous’ face was pale with horror. No, she thought. This isn’t fucking happening.

  Her face wrenched with pain as she fought to climb out of the mouth. Each motion felt like hell, like she was being torn in two. Shards of bullet-shattered teeth hit her in the face, cutting her cheeks so blood streamed.

  Bulldog’s machine gun jammed. “Damn!” he yelled. He flung the weapon away, gripped Gorgeous’ wrist, and tried to pull her out.

  “Kick against it!” he yelled as he dragged her. “Kick against it!”

  Gorgeous kicked into the mouth. Her shoes found no purchase, just slimy tongue surface that felt like she was endlessly slipping. Face twisted in agony, she hammered at the teeth.

  Blood streamed over the enamel spears from the punctures they’d made in her.

  Bulldog, his ugly face white with fear of losing Gorgeous like he’d lost Herbie, yanked hard on her arms. He braced himself on the rim of the mouth and stamped on the teeth, trying to break them.

  Two flying teeth hit Bulldog in the back. One stabbed into his chest between his ribs, penetrating his left lung below his heart. The other tooth perforated him, exploding out through his belly.

  Writhing in pain, blood spurting out of him, Bulldog continued fighting to free Gorgeous. Now they were both clearly dying, the realization penetrated his subnormal mind that he loved her.

  Then, suddenly, the mouth in the floor clamped tight on Gorgeous’ waist, and wrenched sideways, chomping her completely in two.

  Gorgeous separated in the middle. Bulldog staggered back, dragging her upper body after him. Her entrails trailed down over his legs like ropes.

  He stood staring at her in horror, while, not quite dead yet, Gorgeous’ lips moved.

  “I love you, Bully,” she mouthed in a stream of blood that flooded down her chin and neck. Then her eyes shut and her head lolled sideways, properly dead.

  “Shit, I love you too, babe,” Bulldog groaned, holding her close as more teeth from the mouths on the walls speared into them both from all sides.

  Even dying, Bulldog didn’t really understand the nightmare they’d walked into that was killing them. To him, what was happening had all the illogic of a dream. Lucy Tang is a room shooting teeth at us? What the fuck is wrong with today? First Emil, then this shit
?

  He never figured it out. An arm-long tooth hit him in the head.

  Like it had been intentionally aimed, the tooth entered Bulldog’s head at the deep dent that had rendered him almost-imbecile. It punctured completely through his head from left to right, ripping off his ear at its exit.

  Dead, Bulldog crashed to the floor, impaling himself further on the teeth already embedded in his body. He was still holding on tight to Gorgeous’ remains.

  In a wave, the floor rippled under Bulldog, opening a huge mouth that engulfed them both.

  The floor chewed a while, then it was silent.

  ***

  After a few moments, the meat surface dripped off the room’s walls and floor, leaving them a normal blue again. The meat streamed across the room to the sofa and reformed Lucy Tang.

  Lucy Tang lay on the sofa gasping. Her slight body was wracked with the pain of transformation. In addition, her left forearm was broken, both bones shattered when Bulldog had shot her as the wall.

  Lucy felt her arm. It would heal. She was satisfied that she’d revenged Emil’s passing. Good lovers were hard to come by. Few men had ever satisfied her like the Bulgarian had.

  She looked around the once-again empty and ordinary room.

  It’s no longer safe staying here, she thought. Sookie Ling is a persistent cunt. The bitch will send more thugs over once Bulldog and Gorgeous don’t return.

  Lucy knew Sookie would be incensed when she found out her niece was dead. She’d start a vendetta of her own. Sookie was old school Chinese—blood was always revenged.

  Mingled with her anguish at losing Emil, Lucy felt some comfort. Sookie too, would now feel the hurt of losing a dearly loved one.

  Lucy was leaving, but she wasn’t running scared. No tail between the legs like a scared fox for her. She frowned, her slanted eyes thinning. We’ll definitely meet again, Sookie Ling. One day very soon, and then it will be a reckoning of blood and fire between us. Fire like a rain of dragons.