[FFML] H.P. Lovecraft (Lovecraftian??) Floors

[Robyn, Duke of Amber]

                         Floors
                      A modern Innsmouth tale
                          N.A.Sinclair
                          seraphim at sentex.net





   Word had it that Coral was gonna be the place to be.
   The club was new and the building was old. rumors had it that with much
 finesse and greasing of the right palms zoning on the old church
 had been altered and the old Methodist Church meeting house on French Hill
 had been transformed into a different type of meeting place entirely.
   The place had been open for only a few days and word of mouth of those
 not admitted had made soon made it the most desirable place to be and
 be seen.
 Colin knew a guy and he knew a guy and with the right words and a
 chunk of change Colin didn't want to think about he found himself somewhere
 near the middle of the line (it wasn't cool to be eager and at the
front) and with his name on the guest list.
 Soon he was inside.
 Greenish spots pointed diffusely at the gray walls which were draped with
silvery nets. Bits of dark metal, bronze fish lay trapped within
 - flotsam from a storm which glittered and threw dim reflections in scattered
 patterns across the large room. Two walls were set full of booths and
  the corners were filled with gray screens on which were projected with
slow swirling patterns like pieces of twisting solid smoke.
  An empty stage like a tiered dais lay at one side and
 The place was dimly lit and rather than loud the music provided a
throb like a heartbeat. Colin didn't care. He was sure as fuck not
here for the music.
 Bingo.
 There they were. Scattered at the bar or at some of the small tables
 by the bar.
 Young. Too Young and on the outside of the pack the Trying To Be Young.
 He licked his lips.
 He couldn't help it.
 It was a fucking smorgasbord.
 He didn't consider himself a predator. After all it was a matter of
choice wasn't it. If someone chose to be with him for the night
 (or part of it) then they were mature enough to know what they were
getting into. - Or letting him get into.
 Any sort of tears or bitching well that was just sour grapes wasn't it?
 Some bitch who wanted to catch him in something long term or
 someone who said they made a "mistake".
 Well they were here weren't they?
 No point in rushing things though was there?
 He headed for the bar.

  He nursed his first drink for a while and carefully looked over
his potential targets. So much available flesh so little time.
 It seemed like all the tastiest were out in there best and choosing
would be hard.
 He danced with a girl.  She had golden hair and a gold ring in her
 left eyebrow to match. She couldn't have been more than 16 and he
looked at her like an appetizer.
 First a fast song, then a slow. She had been on the floor longer
than him and her skin was damp with sweat the golden glitter on her
face had begun to run. Her T-shirt bore a butterfly and sweat dampened
clung to her small breasts.  He pulled her close, As they danced
 he could feel her prominent nipples harden. He kissed her, nuzzled
her throat and scented her freshness. She moaned as he rubbed
between her thighs with a carefully placed leg.
 After the song ended he drifted away leaving her flushed and
confused. She would be to easy.
  He headed for the bathroom. He considered relieving himself
when he got there but he had been denying himself all week.
 tempting himself with the promised of release but that was for
whoever he chose.
 The bathrooms were downstairs, probably the least refurbished
parts of the club. The walls were black and the dim light
 caused them to sparkle - glitter in the paint or stucco.
 The bathroom was small. To small for a club like this and
 surprisingly empty. It was generally pretty normal except the
lights seemed to be controlled by a motion sensor. The floor
 (which he noticed as he looked down pissing into the urinal was
odd.  The floors of the bathroom and the hallway (he noticed upon
exiting) were crudely painted look like bricks.
 At places the bricks were missing and *under* the bricks was
water with fish swimming as well.
 This was as close to something that related to the name
of the club that he had seen but then that wasn't that strange really.
 Owners call things whatever they damn well pleased.

 Upstairs again he danced with this oriental chick she was like
Chinese or Japanese or something. Cute, but she wore to much leather
and black shit around her eyes, and one those ankh things all the
 Goth chicks liked.. She seemed like she would put
 up the wrong kind of fight.
 He bought her a drink and drifted.
 A few more girls, a few more dances and a few more drinks later
and he was down in the bathroom again.
 The heat of the bar was probably making him feel the booze more
than he should.
 He noticed something about the floor then as he swayed slightly
pissing on the urinal cake.

Painted below the oceans that lay exposed was yet another floor with
chunks and bricks broken off and then deeper water with creatures of
a deeper sea that lurked in the further depths.
 Creatures only half-glimpsed: some with glowing eyes, others with
great curling arms like fronds of sea-wrack.

 "FUCK!" So intent on the floor below him he came close to
pissing on his shoes.


 He sat at the bar and sipped his drink.

 "Hey, you want some candy?"
 The voice was a purr. An amused sound.

 He turned.

 This was what he had been looking for.

 She was older than the others he had been with but her looks were
that of sensuality and amusement. No bit of leftover meat was she.
 Her hair was a storm of black, her eyes catlike jade.
 In open palm she held a white sphere.

 "Candy?" He asked amused.

 "A hint of mint." She said and the slight bit of huskiness in her
voice made his groin twitch.

 "Home made." she said. "Pearls of Wisdom."

  "Not before swine I hope."
 He bent down and took the candy from her palm with his lips.
 His nose brushing her upturned wrist and smelling the musky
perfume she wore.
 She laughed.
 Not a girlish giggle but a throaty thing full of desire.
 He tasted mint and crunched the peppermint, his teeth
flashing white in the subdued light.

 "Dance?" She asked.

 And he did.

 They danced slowly, they danced fast and he admired the sinuous way
she moved.
 Tight dark skirt. Sheer white silk blouse that showed but did
 not flaunt her form. A curiously carved green stone at her throat.
 Oh he would have her.
 She would moan and cry and arch her back and need him more and more.
 He would have her. He would take her and then when she begged him
to stay he would leave.
 He laughed at her jokes and they drank expensive champagne.
  The night wore on and unusually the crowd thinned.
 Colin found himself in a booth with her, A booth in the shadows
 with Selene, kissing and fondling her as she ran her hands over him.
 He found himself pulling back from her and standing unsteadily.
 "Why don't we get the hell out of here?"
 "I'd like that." She said. "If you plan on going somewhere else?"
 "Your place." He said.
 "I was thinking the same thing." She replied.

  "I do have one thing I have to take care of first." He said.
  "For some reason those drinks have been running through me
 like water."

 "Probably because the place makes 'em with so much water." Selene laughed.
 She waved him off. "Hurry back."

 Going downstairs Colin felt rather than heard the splash.
 "Shit!" He shook water from his expensive shoe.
 There seemed to be a thin layer of water across the entire floor.
  Great. Some jackass had plugged the sink or a toilet had backed up.
 He really needed that.
 He opened the washroom door and entered into darkness.
  Another plus. The lights flickered to life like the motion
switch was broken.
 Looking around he saw nothing overflowing but the same water splashed
on the floor.
 The place had a brackish smell and he suspected a toilet overflow.
 Well as long as he got the hell out of here it wasn't any of his
business.
  He turned to wash his hands, and slipped.
 With a splash he was up to his arms in the chill water.
 The bricks that held him felt like chunks of ice and the water stank of
salt and fish.
 At first he was to surprised to call out then as he felt colder he began to
call out.
 No one answered.
 the lights went out.
 Now he was calling in out the dark with the same futile effect.
 After a few moments (which seemed like forever) he noticed a strange
phosphorescence to the water. It was light but an unclean light.
 Cold.
 So cold.
 He could see he breath by the witchlight, puffs of white.
 his fingers felt as cold as the slimy stone.
 He couldn't keep his grip and several times was plunged into the
 briny chill only to scrabble himself a purchase spitting the foul
water.

 The door opened and the light came on.
 There she was looking down at him with that amused look.

 "Thank God." He thrashed towards her, slipped and fell under.
 Pulling himself up he hit his head on the barnacle-covered rock cutting
his scalp.

 "Quick! Pull me up."

 "Why would I do that?" She looked at him curiously.
    He noticed for the first time that her brooch looked like
  an octopus or some kind of squid.

  "I'm slipping." He spat out water and tasted his own blood.

  "I can see that." She said.

  "I...I don't know if I can hang on."

  "I'm sure you won't - for long."

   "Wh-Why?" He questioned.

  "Well, they get hungry." She said. "So hungry, So I help them."
  "I like to think of myself as a fisher of men." She smiled.

   It took no effort at all to nudge his chill fingers off the rocks.

    Exhausted he sank down, down, down and those he saw  with his
 dimming eyes made him chillier still.

  "Just a matter of using the right bait" The woman said to herself
 as she watched Them feed.


             Fin




background


I went to this Ethiopian place a few weeks ago.
 The bathrooms (of all things) of this Restaurant really had an effect on
motivating me
 (I'm guessing the women's washroom was like this as well.)
 - I do know that they also had the motion sensors.
   The floors of the bathrooms and the hallway downstairs were painted look
like bricks. At places the bricks were missing and *under* the bricks was
water with fish swimming as well. Painted below that was another floor with
chunks broken off and deeper water with deeper sea creatures.
 This idea came to me the night I was there...although writing an asshole is
more difficult than I thought. It may need some filling out. I dunno.

 I haven't written a lot lately but want to get back into the swing.

 Neil




     __________________________________________________________________
            Seraphim, the Restless Angel with a (borrowed) sword.
                       _______________________
                 Robyn, Duke of Amber. Agent of Chaos.
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