The Nosferatu Adventures
page 342, chapter 342
Instability on Stage 5
Bryon cracked his neck as he let out a deep breath wringing his hands as he turned to look over his shoulder at the mirror.
Out of Time
An hour ago...
Our heroine, Edric and Vlad arrived back at Quentin's warehouse, Vlad refusing to even look at Nosferatu. The scene at the corner store had been stupid of her, and she knew it. The three stopped nearly in unison as they got closer to the building. For Edric it had only been a few weeks since he had last been there, but for our heroine years had past. She'd forgotten just how small the building actually was. But it was the smells hot in the air that caused the trio to stop cold. The female banshee snarled as she took a step forward, her top fangs suddenly exposed. Edric had no idea what was going on as he watched Vlad grab her by the waist pulling her back. The door opened suddenly but only a crack as the hellhound mix came bounding out of the doorway, Arthur behind. He turned locking the door, while the little furball strained against the leash.
"Keeping secrets are we?" Nosferatu snorted nodding her head in the direction of the building. She could smell the creature still inside. "Get off me." she shrugged off Vlad's embrace. Her stride was solid as she moved then towards Arthur. Sniffing our heroine spat at his feet, causing Twilight to yelp as the beast got out of the way; cowering behind Arthur's legs. "Unlock the door before I break it." her tone was just on the edge of becoming a roar. She sniffed again, this time because the hot smell of dog urine was now in the air. Twilight had decided the nearest edge of the wall was a good enough place as any to go since it seemed there would be no walk now. The little hellhound mix started jumping up and down his front paws treading air as he barked feverishly. He had so much to tell the female caretaker. "Why is that mutt still even here?" our heroine snorted in frustration gesturing mindlessly at Twilight. "Shouldn't it have gone back to hell or something when I lost that baby? Huh? Or when Odin returned the others to their reality?"
"Loki created it here in this reality. You know this." Vlad's own voice held a scolding to it. The hellhound stopped yelping and turned to look at the male as it sneezed then shivered. Twilight didn't understand the rest of what was said, but he did know it was said silently between Vlad and Nosferatu without them moving their lips. Our heroine had ripped the key chain out of Arthur's hand and was already inside. Stomping across the room like an angry child set on destruction, our heroine threw back the curtains to expose the large portable tub.
"So this is what bit you." she sighed in disgust, her eyes flashing the pure white of the banshee. "A water sprite. How in the hell did a water sprite even get here to this reality?" the words were barely out of her mouth as she spotted the books and pages scattered across the dinning table and the rippling energy of the not fully closed portal. Her spine seemed to fuse together as a cold sweat broke out over her flesh. They needed to close the portal completely before Dax realized it was open. Our heroine could not risk the familiar discovering it and using it to cross into this reality.
"I was trying to bring you back." Arthur's words were barely a breath. Our heroine let out another deep sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.
"You could have gotten yourself killed. Like no coming back dead. Had a mermaid come through your little portal here and not just some mire sprite...stupid." she swore under her breath in a language that made the sprite giggle. "And what do you have to say for yourself?" she was now addressing the sprite. "Huh?" our heroine let her hand slap her thigh as she gestured towards the portal. "Why come through? What it was shinny so you had to touch?"
"It opened before me. I fell into it by accident." she said in the same language that had just made her giggle, her voice echoing like forgotten windchimes.
"Well, you're going back so don't get too comfortable. Do you have a name?" The sprite just shook her head. "No of course not cause that would make sense and why would we want to do that?" another deep sigh of frustration from our heroine as she crossed back to the others. But before she could say anything else, the group found themselves starring in silent shock as a man dressed in all black fell out of the portal.
Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your heroine...me(straight up story. Water, mirrors, glass, blood...)
Sunday, September 9, 2018
Thursday, September 6, 2018
coffee talk sept 6th 2018
Spudguns! How's everything on your end? Great, spiffy, good to know.
We are 55 days till Hallowe'en, and it's a Thursday. Randomness as always leads the day. For those keeping score at home, I'm still dealing with the hand. But, the half cast-splint is off and I'm able to do a bit more. Which means, I'll have something for you in regards to the serials this weekend. (Sunday the 9th September 2018)
That's all I came in to say. See you on the weekend.
We are 55 days till Hallowe'en, and it's a Thursday. Randomness as always leads the day. For those keeping score at home, I'm still dealing with the hand. But, the half cast-splint is off and I'm able to do a bit more. Which means, I'll have something for you in regards to the serials this weekend. (Sunday the 9th September 2018)
That's all I came in to say. See you on the weekend.
Monday, August 27, 2018
coffee talk aug 27th 2018
Spudguns! I know I missed the serial this week. I injured my hand on the weekend and am finding it difficult to type one handed. That is literally all I needed to say today.
we are 65 days from Hallowe'en.
I must now go put on a bra one handed. Should only take about five hours to do. Tying my shoes one handed is an all day event.
we are 65 days from Hallowe'en.
I must now go put on a bra one handed. Should only take about five hours to do. Tying my shoes one handed is an all day event.
Tuesday, August 21, 2018
Coffee Talk Aug 21st 2018
Spudguns! We're 71 days till Hallowe'en, and how does that make you feel today? I feel groovy about it.
Okay, so I haven't really done one of these in awhile, but the movies I'm looking forward to seeing in the next few months are The Happytime Murders, Venom, Goosebumps 2, Ralph Breaks the Internet, Robin Hood.
Last week I mentioned I had watched a couple of movies on Netflix Canada and just didn't like them at all. Which is why I decided not to review them. I went back and flipped through them again, and...yeah I still can't find anything nice to say about them. The Babysitter (2017) and Wild Oats (2016) I know these two films got a lot of positive from fans, but I just didn't care for them at all. At lest I made it through those two, where as I didn't even get fifteen minutes into Father of the Year (2018) before turning it off.
When I started this blog and the movie challenge, one major rule was finishing the movie no matter what. Which was fine for the first year of the blog when I was actually doing the 'One Movie A Day Challenge' the first time around. Now that I'm just back to watching movies for the simple love of movies, I find my tastes have really changed.
Okay guys, that's about it for today. I'll be back on the weekend with the next installment of the serials. (Sunday Aug 26th 2018)
Okay, so I haven't really done one of these in awhile, but the movies I'm looking forward to seeing in the next few months are The Happytime Murders, Venom, Goosebumps 2, Ralph Breaks the Internet, Robin Hood.
Last week I mentioned I had watched a couple of movies on Netflix Canada and just didn't like them at all. Which is why I decided not to review them. I went back and flipped through them again, and...yeah I still can't find anything nice to say about them. The Babysitter (2017) and Wild Oats (2016) I know these two films got a lot of positive from fans, but I just didn't care for them at all. At lest I made it through those two, where as I didn't even get fifteen minutes into Father of the Year (2018) before turning it off.
When I started this blog and the movie challenge, one major rule was finishing the movie no matter what. Which was fine for the first year of the blog when I was actually doing the 'One Movie A Day Challenge' the first time around. Now that I'm just back to watching movies for the simple love of movies, I find my tastes have really changed.
Okay guys, that's about it for today. I'll be back on the weekend with the next installment of the serials. (Sunday Aug 26th 2018)
Sunday, August 19, 2018
The Nosferatu Adventures s13 p11
The Nosferatu Adventures
page 341, chapter 341
Instability on Stage 5
Bryon hummed to himself as he checked his image in the mirror. Black eyeliner, check, fresh pink streak on the right front corner of his spiked jet black hair, check, black suit coat with studded skulls at the collar tips and cuff links, check. Turning sideways to admire his reflection, the short male stuck his tongue out clearly enjoying himself as he continued to sing. And why shouldn't he? He'd just signed the biggest deal of his career. A male version of Alice in Wonderland. Sure, it was a schlocky little straight to late night television, but it would be playing on Hallowe'en night with a guarantee of being repeated for the next five years. Royalties that would at lest keep rent taken care of for awhile. Checking the clock over the kitchen table, he figured if he didn't leave right then, he'd be late. Grabbing his keys Bryon headed out to the lobby of the building, and to the stairs. The underground parking lot was smelling extra filthy with an underlay of rotten seafood. He didn't even want to think what the neighbours might have been up to for it to smell that way? The less he knew the better. The short goth hit the unlock button on his keychain causing the black hearse in the corner to beep twice. The one without the company logo. Bryon had spent the last three years fixing up the company castaway. It was practically a showroom quality piece. In fact, he'd based the design on the one from his favourite movie; Curse of the Bats from the Bottom of the Hunchback's Dirty Bucket. The interior of the vehicle was slime green leopard print, the wheel a wreath of carved bats, the same pattern on the rear view mirror only in chrome, while a small coffin x-mas ornament swung from it. The hood ornament was also a small chrome coffin with a skull sitting on top of it. It was a complete replica of the one from the movie driven by the main servant. The leader of the zombie drag racers. Bryon pulled up to the edge of the studio parking lot just in time to see a swarm of people huddled in a few awkward seeming groups. The car door slammed as he locked it, clearing his throat, his eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement. Then his heart sank a notch at what he saw. Teenagers wearing fuzzy glow in the dark t-shirts with the image of Reuben Blacksmith on it. They were members of his fan club. Bryon walked past them cautiously doing his best to ignore their screams and chatter. They'd worked together a few times before Reuben became famous.Checking his hair one last time in the window, Bryon let out a deep quick breath as he stepped over the threshold of the studio's main lobby.
Leaning over the edge of the bathroom sink, Bryon touched up his eyeliner as he recited his lines from scene four. The last two hours had been nothing but going over the script and standing around waiting for the head of the television station to officially welcome the cast. Of course, when he finally did arrive he mentioned that Reuben had been there for an interview on the local daytime talk show. Once again, Bryon had to wait in line because of Reuben. The thought distracted him, causing the dark haired male to stumble over his lines. Closing his eyes in order to clear his mind, the goth slapped both palms against his cheeks to bring his mind back around to the script. Another deep breath as he opened his eyes to stare into the mirror.
"But hark, the dusk is damp with humming birds and wine. The flask overflowing with broken promises and hurtful glares." he lowered his voice as he tilted his chin downward to deliver the next sentence with as much distrust as he could towards his reflection. "Know now not for who that you bring these things, but what..." he read ahead in the paragraph that said his character lifted a tea cup to toast. Raising his empty hand made him feel silly breaking his concentration once again. The bathroom door opened just as a knight in half his armor walked in. Taking that as a cue to return to the stage, Bryon picked up his script and squeezed past the larger actor. Someone with a clipboard ran up asking him his name and if he had any allergies for the lunch order. As he turned to talk to them, a flash caught his eye in the room behind the assistant. Bryon was dying to see the sets and couldn't help himself. Once the assistant was off again their head down over the clipboard, Bryon made his way quickly to the room. The door wasn't completely closed and squeaked a little when he pushed it open all the way. Thankfully no one else seemed to be in the hallways right then. The large storage room had rows of labeled boxes and bins on large industrial looking metal shelves, and rolling hangers of costumes as one would expect. But, it was the larger props in the back of the room that really caught his eyes. Particularly the giant mirror that was partly covered with a paint stained drop cloth. That's where he figured the flash had come from; the mirror simply catching the reflection of the lights. Pushing the drop cloth to the side of the it, Bryon ran his fingers over the edges. It was a 6'foot tall mirror encased in a thin black frame. Nothing special, nothing over the top as you would expect from a television prop. Just a normal looking mirror. Licking his lips, he felt a rush of disappointment as he began to cover it up again. "Shack." he brought his hand up to his mouth sucking the crimson droplets from his palm. He'd hooked his hand on a piece of the hanging wires cutting it. Not deep, but just enough of a scratch to draw blood. "All I need." he mumbled to himself as he grabbed hold of the mirror with both hands moving it enough to see the back.
That was his first mistake.
His blood left a small print on the side of the mirror. Not much, not even noticeable at first, specially after it was absorbed into the mirror itself. Turning to make his way back out of the props room, Bryon had forgotten to secure the covering as his own reflection seemed to hesitate in the mirror before dissolving. Bryon thought he'd heard a thumping noise and turned back towards the mirror.
That was his second mistake.
He tripped, stumbling towards the mirror his hands out to brace himself. The dark haired goth swore again as he tumbled to the floor. Getting up slowly, he brushed the dirt from his black pants before looking up. There was a room full of people staring at him. "So trick door. Nice." he said nervously unsure what area of the studio he was now in. But before he could ask, a woman had appeared as if by magick across the room grabbing him, hugging him tight.
"Bryon! Oh my god!" our heroine breathed as she buried her nose in his shoulder. Reaching up to untangle himself from her, Bryon tilted back a half step on his heels annoyed.
"Hi. Yeah. Is this rehearsal? Am I late?" he pointed to the floor taking yet another step back.
"What are you doing here?" she sniffed deeply. "Wait..."
"I'm sorry, do I know you from somewhere? Were we extras together on something and I just not remember?"
"You don't smell like you. Why don't you smell like you?" our heroine asked her nose practically pressed to the flesh just above his collar. Wiggling out of her grasp, he turned back towards the mirror. Only there was no mirror. There was only an off coloured patch of wall that seemed to move like steam. A panic began to build in the dark haired human as he reached his hand through the wall before walking back through.
Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your heroine...me(straight up story. Remember back in S4 p24...)
page 341, chapter 341
Instability on Stage 5
Bryon hummed to himself as he checked his image in the mirror. Black eyeliner, check, fresh pink streak on the right front corner of his spiked jet black hair, check, black suit coat with studded skulls at the collar tips and cuff links, check. Turning sideways to admire his reflection, the short male stuck his tongue out clearly enjoying himself as he continued to sing. And why shouldn't he? He'd just signed the biggest deal of his career. A male version of Alice in Wonderland. Sure, it was a schlocky little straight to late night television, but it would be playing on Hallowe'en night with a guarantee of being repeated for the next five years. Royalties that would at lest keep rent taken care of for awhile. Checking the clock over the kitchen table, he figured if he didn't leave right then, he'd be late. Grabbing his keys Bryon headed out to the lobby of the building, and to the stairs. The underground parking lot was smelling extra filthy with an underlay of rotten seafood. He didn't even want to think what the neighbours might have been up to for it to smell that way? The less he knew the better. The short goth hit the unlock button on his keychain causing the black hearse in the corner to beep twice. The one without the company logo. Bryon had spent the last three years fixing up the company castaway. It was practically a showroom quality piece. In fact, he'd based the design on the one from his favourite movie; Curse of the Bats from the Bottom of the Hunchback's Dirty Bucket. The interior of the vehicle was slime green leopard print, the wheel a wreath of carved bats, the same pattern on the rear view mirror only in chrome, while a small coffin x-mas ornament swung from it. The hood ornament was also a small chrome coffin with a skull sitting on top of it. It was a complete replica of the one from the movie driven by the main servant. The leader of the zombie drag racers. Bryon pulled up to the edge of the studio parking lot just in time to see a swarm of people huddled in a few awkward seeming groups. The car door slammed as he locked it, clearing his throat, his eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement. Then his heart sank a notch at what he saw. Teenagers wearing fuzzy glow in the dark t-shirts with the image of Reuben Blacksmith on it. They were members of his fan club. Bryon walked past them cautiously doing his best to ignore their screams and chatter. They'd worked together a few times before Reuben became famous.Checking his hair one last time in the window, Bryon let out a deep quick breath as he stepped over the threshold of the studio's main lobby.
Leaning over the edge of the bathroom sink, Bryon touched up his eyeliner as he recited his lines from scene four. The last two hours had been nothing but going over the script and standing around waiting for the head of the television station to officially welcome the cast. Of course, when he finally did arrive he mentioned that Reuben had been there for an interview on the local daytime talk show. Once again, Bryon had to wait in line because of Reuben. The thought distracted him, causing the dark haired male to stumble over his lines. Closing his eyes in order to clear his mind, the goth slapped both palms against his cheeks to bring his mind back around to the script. Another deep breath as he opened his eyes to stare into the mirror.
"But hark, the dusk is damp with humming birds and wine. The flask overflowing with broken promises and hurtful glares." he lowered his voice as he tilted his chin downward to deliver the next sentence with as much distrust as he could towards his reflection. "Know now not for who that you bring these things, but what..." he read ahead in the paragraph that said his character lifted a tea cup to toast. Raising his empty hand made him feel silly breaking his concentration once again. The bathroom door opened just as a knight in half his armor walked in. Taking that as a cue to return to the stage, Bryon picked up his script and squeezed past the larger actor. Someone with a clipboard ran up asking him his name and if he had any allergies for the lunch order. As he turned to talk to them, a flash caught his eye in the room behind the assistant. Bryon was dying to see the sets and couldn't help himself. Once the assistant was off again their head down over the clipboard, Bryon made his way quickly to the room. The door wasn't completely closed and squeaked a little when he pushed it open all the way. Thankfully no one else seemed to be in the hallways right then. The large storage room had rows of labeled boxes and bins on large industrial looking metal shelves, and rolling hangers of costumes as one would expect. But, it was the larger props in the back of the room that really caught his eyes. Particularly the giant mirror that was partly covered with a paint stained drop cloth. That's where he figured the flash had come from; the mirror simply catching the reflection of the lights. Pushing the drop cloth to the side of the it, Bryon ran his fingers over the edges. It was a 6'foot tall mirror encased in a thin black frame. Nothing special, nothing over the top as you would expect from a television prop. Just a normal looking mirror. Licking his lips, he felt a rush of disappointment as he began to cover it up again. "Shack." he brought his hand up to his mouth sucking the crimson droplets from his palm. He'd hooked his hand on a piece of the hanging wires cutting it. Not deep, but just enough of a scratch to draw blood. "All I need." he mumbled to himself as he grabbed hold of the mirror with both hands moving it enough to see the back.
That was his first mistake.
His blood left a small print on the side of the mirror. Not much, not even noticeable at first, specially after it was absorbed into the mirror itself. Turning to make his way back out of the props room, Bryon had forgotten to secure the covering as his own reflection seemed to hesitate in the mirror before dissolving. Bryon thought he'd heard a thumping noise and turned back towards the mirror.
That was his second mistake.
He tripped, stumbling towards the mirror his hands out to brace himself. The dark haired goth swore again as he tumbled to the floor. Getting up slowly, he brushed the dirt from his black pants before looking up. There was a room full of people staring at him. "So trick door. Nice." he said nervously unsure what area of the studio he was now in. But before he could ask, a woman had appeared as if by magick across the room grabbing him, hugging him tight.
"Bryon! Oh my god!" our heroine breathed as she buried her nose in his shoulder. Reaching up to untangle himself from her, Bryon tilted back a half step on his heels annoyed.
"Hi. Yeah. Is this rehearsal? Am I late?" he pointed to the floor taking yet another step back.
"What are you doing here?" she sniffed deeply. "Wait..."
"I'm sorry, do I know you from somewhere? Were we extras together on something and I just not remember?"
"You don't smell like you. Why don't you smell like you?" our heroine asked her nose practically pressed to the flesh just above his collar. Wiggling out of her grasp, he turned back towards the mirror. Only there was no mirror. There was only an off coloured patch of wall that seemed to move like steam. A panic began to build in the dark haired human as he reached his hand through the wall before walking back through.
Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your heroine...me(straight up story. Remember back in S4 p24...)
Monday, August 13, 2018
Coffee Talk Aug 13th 2018
Spudguns!, hey, how's it where you are? Spiffy cool.
We are 79 Days till Hallowe'en, and I just finished posting a little nothing of a note on my facebook page. Thought, while I was in the mood, I'd just run in for a brief second and say hey...hey.
I've got a couple of recipes half way finished for the What that Movie Inspired Me To Do segments. They are vampire themed, so I'm debating if I should post before October or not? I am doing them as both written and video versions of the recipes, so I'm toying with keeping them in the vault until October season. Honestly, I wasn't sure I was going to get around to getting them done at all, given I've had them on the TO DO LIST since last November.
I did sit down and watch a couple of random movies on Netflix Canada this weekend. I ended up hating them, so I'm not sure if reviews would be of any use? I might take a second swing at them and see if I can find anything nice to say about them.
I will have one of the serials up on Sunday (Aug 19th 2018) which one is yet to be figured out.
Okay, that's it for now. I'll be back later in the week. And as always, feel free to hang with me on my facebook page.
Till later.
We are 79 Days till Hallowe'en, and I just finished posting a little nothing of a note on my facebook page. Thought, while I was in the mood, I'd just run in for a brief second and say hey...hey.
I've got a couple of recipes half way finished for the What that Movie Inspired Me To Do segments. They are vampire themed, so I'm debating if I should post before October or not? I am doing them as both written and video versions of the recipes, so I'm toying with keeping them in the vault until October season. Honestly, I wasn't sure I was going to get around to getting them done at all, given I've had them on the TO DO LIST since last November.
I did sit down and watch a couple of random movies on Netflix Canada this weekend. I ended up hating them, so I'm not sure if reviews would be of any use? I might take a second swing at them and see if I can find anything nice to say about them.
I will have one of the serials up on Sunday (Aug 19th 2018) which one is yet to be figured out.
Okay, that's it for now. I'll be back later in the week. And as always, feel free to hang with me on my facebook page.
Till later.
Friday, August 10, 2018
The Cinema Files s1 p11
The Cinema Files
page 11, chapter 11
Drive-In Drama
"Alrighty. I've got no damned idea what I'm doing." I said slapping my hands to my thighs. Blake, Vincent and myself, had just failed at trying to get information from the city's mortician. Seems she didn't care for fruit. Or us for that matter. Detective Whitechapel had already been in to visit her and informed her in no uncertain terms, if I showed up to call him and bar me from the floor.
"Desdemona calm down now." Blake said as he thumped his butt into the wall teetering under the weight of the overly large fruit basket. The thing was nearly two feet tall and must have weighed a good ten pounds. I told him not to add the pineapple but he didn't listen.
"I don't want to calm down. I want to get some results." I think I whined. Turning towards Vincent, I got an idea. He'd worn a button up shirt; which I started to unbutton the top part of, making the collar a little more peaked. "You need to seduce her. Like not doing it on the autopsy table or anything, but you know." Vincent looked at me with a slight worry before turning back towards the morgue.
"Really Mons? Pimping out your best friend." Blake made a tisking noise before whistling. Less than two minutes caught Vincent walking back through the doors, handing me a small piece of note paper.
"See. I knew you were the secret weapon." I was nodding my head grinning widely as I took the paper. Unfolding it, I let out a deep breath discovering it was not the information we were looking for.
"Her exact words were call the top number first and then the second after 9pm." Vincent remarked buttoning back up his shirt smoothing down his collar once again.
"That's Whitechapel's number." my shoulders slumped as I felt Blake's breath at my neck as he leaned over my shoulder. The fruit basket digging into my elbow as he did.
"Who's number is under the cops?" Blake asked.
"The mortician's. Seems, I'm not her type." Vincent couldn't hold back the smile any longer. I felt Blake nudge me with his shoulder as he joined.
"I hate you both right now."
"Well...anyone feel like fruit salad for lunch?" Blake nodded balancing the basket then on his knee.
I decided to go into the shop after the lack of leads we followed. Feeling let down and deflated, all I wanted was the familiarness of my store. To stand in the middle of the building, breathing in the scent of cardboard and plastic, the posters staring down at me from the walls. I suddenly felt a heavy longing for a vhs tape. Grabbing a well used and slightly faded dvd off the nearest shelf, I held it in my hands like a doll. It comforted me as if an old friend or pet would. The door opened causing me to blush before putting the movie back on the shelf.
"Good, you are open." It was Ryan. "Did you have fun on your little field trip to the morgue?" he looked around his right hand suddenly at his tie as he loosened it. Detective Whitechapel seemed so out of his element, which of course was all part of his tack. I'd seen him do this before more than once, assessing the situation as if he were less than sure of things, all the while letting his witness or suspect feel like they had the upper hand. Which of course, they never really did.
"Detective." I moved around the room wanting to get a closer look at the expression on his face. I couldn't tell if I was about to get yelled at or not? "You looking for something in particular?" I saw his gaze travel over the current releases before stopping on a blu-ray for a movie about giant mutant snakes. He shook his head turning up his lips into a duck bill.
"No no." he flicked his left thumb over the very edge of his bottom lip. "What are you doing for dinner?" he smiled that devilish smirk of his, his eyes gleaming like jewels under the lights. They were looking particularly emerald like as he licked his lips tilting his head just slightly to the right, his eyes still encased in small laugh lines. "Been asked to help out on a case for the next town over. They need someone to pose as a couple for a few hours as a decoy. You game?"
"What time?" I had butterflies at the idea.
"I'll swing by your place about 4pm. Wear something elegant but comfortable. It's an outdoors party."
Tune in again for another installment of the Cinema Files starring your heroine...me(straight up story. I wish I was this popular.)
page 11, chapter 11
Drive-In Drama
"Alrighty. I've got no damned idea what I'm doing." I said slapping my hands to my thighs. Blake, Vincent and myself, had just failed at trying to get information from the city's mortician. Seems she didn't care for fruit. Or us for that matter. Detective Whitechapel had already been in to visit her and informed her in no uncertain terms, if I showed up to call him and bar me from the floor.
"Desdemona calm down now." Blake said as he thumped his butt into the wall teetering under the weight of the overly large fruit basket. The thing was nearly two feet tall and must have weighed a good ten pounds. I told him not to add the pineapple but he didn't listen.
"I don't want to calm down. I want to get some results." I think I whined. Turning towards Vincent, I got an idea. He'd worn a button up shirt; which I started to unbutton the top part of, making the collar a little more peaked. "You need to seduce her. Like not doing it on the autopsy table or anything, but you know." Vincent looked at me with a slight worry before turning back towards the morgue.
"Really Mons? Pimping out your best friend." Blake made a tisking noise before whistling. Less than two minutes caught Vincent walking back through the doors, handing me a small piece of note paper.
"See. I knew you were the secret weapon." I was nodding my head grinning widely as I took the paper. Unfolding it, I let out a deep breath discovering it was not the information we were looking for.
"Her exact words were call the top number first and then the second after 9pm." Vincent remarked buttoning back up his shirt smoothing down his collar once again.
"That's Whitechapel's number." my shoulders slumped as I felt Blake's breath at my neck as he leaned over my shoulder. The fruit basket digging into my elbow as he did.
"Who's number is under the cops?" Blake asked.
"The mortician's. Seems, I'm not her type." Vincent couldn't hold back the smile any longer. I felt Blake nudge me with his shoulder as he joined.
"I hate you both right now."
"Well...anyone feel like fruit salad for lunch?" Blake nodded balancing the basket then on his knee.
I decided to go into the shop after the lack of leads we followed. Feeling let down and deflated, all I wanted was the familiarness of my store. To stand in the middle of the building, breathing in the scent of cardboard and plastic, the posters staring down at me from the walls. I suddenly felt a heavy longing for a vhs tape. Grabbing a well used and slightly faded dvd off the nearest shelf, I held it in my hands like a doll. It comforted me as if an old friend or pet would. The door opened causing me to blush before putting the movie back on the shelf.
"Good, you are open." It was Ryan. "Did you have fun on your little field trip to the morgue?" he looked around his right hand suddenly at his tie as he loosened it. Detective Whitechapel seemed so out of his element, which of course was all part of his tack. I'd seen him do this before more than once, assessing the situation as if he were less than sure of things, all the while letting his witness or suspect feel like they had the upper hand. Which of course, they never really did.
"Detective." I moved around the room wanting to get a closer look at the expression on his face. I couldn't tell if I was about to get yelled at or not? "You looking for something in particular?" I saw his gaze travel over the current releases before stopping on a blu-ray for a movie about giant mutant snakes. He shook his head turning up his lips into a duck bill.
"No no." he flicked his left thumb over the very edge of his bottom lip. "What are you doing for dinner?" he smiled that devilish smirk of his, his eyes gleaming like jewels under the lights. They were looking particularly emerald like as he licked his lips tilting his head just slightly to the right, his eyes still encased in small laugh lines. "Been asked to help out on a case for the next town over. They need someone to pose as a couple for a few hours as a decoy. You game?"
"What time?" I had butterflies at the idea.
"I'll swing by your place about 4pm. Wear something elegant but comfortable. It's an outdoors party."
Tune in again for another installment of the Cinema Files starring your heroine...me(straight up story. I wish I was this popular.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)