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Living in Vegas always meant that there would be plenty of cases for me to solve. They would always be there, and each time they would somehow mange to get stranger and stranger. Today was no different. Brendon came with me to an old strip joint. I had gotten an email from the owner about one of his missing workers, who was apparently also his daughter. The place looked shady, pink tinted windows that were impossible to look through. The building was small and concrete, on the outskirts of the city. The door was the typical club door. Metal with a small slip that people could peer out of. The parking lot was half full, the asphalt covered with old cigarette buts and broken beer bottles. It was only six, which was earlier than most cases, but at the same time later than when most normal people went to go to work.
The sun was already setting, making the empty street glow with an orange and red tint, the colors shining off of the scattered glass.
"I don't know if I want to do this anymore."
"Oh for fucks sake Urie. You leave me to do this shit alone all the time. You owe it to me." I climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind me. Brendon hadn't moved from the passenger seat. I leaned down, looking into the window at him. "Either get out now or I'm not buying booze for a week." He sighed, unbuckling his seat belt before climbing out of the car.
"I hate you Ross." I laughed a little, tossing my arm around his neck.
"As do I Urie. As do I." We walked up to the building. Well, I walked to the building, dragging Brendon who had an obvious uneasy feeling about it.
Inside there was approximately 23 people, three of them were wearing trucker hats, five were under aged. The owner of the joint was standing behind the bar, talking to a flamboyantly gay bartender who was wondering why the hell he was seeing his boss so early in the night. There was two girls on stage, one of them had about ten twenties being flung at her, the other practically giving someone a lap dance on stage.
I opened the door, and we walked inside.
Smoke was the first thing that hit me. It filled my lungs in an oddly comforting way. The place was filled with mirrors, making the room look bigger than it actually was. The lighting was dim and had a purple tint to it.
"Ryan, I really don't think we should-" Brendon was cut off when the owner came up to us. He was a sweaty old man, looking a lot like a fat version of an ex-cop. Handlebar mustache, a hat covering his balding head, clad in a suit made of navy blue fabric.
"Please tell me you're the boy that's going to solve all my problems." He had a funny accent, like someone from the south, only not. I smirked a little and Brendon did a face palm, knowing the way I would take that sentence.
"Honey I'm willing to do anything for the right price." His face fell from worried to confused and then disgusted.
"That is not what I meant."
"I know, I'm just fucking with you." I rolled my eyes as I talked.
"Who's he?" The man pointed to Brendon who stood behind me like a little kid, his hands in his pockets with his shoulders slumped.
"No one important, just a helping hand."
The man nodded and then spoke, "Aren't you going to get started?"
"I can't do shit with all of these people in here. Liability reasons and whatnot." I said with a shrug.
"You think something's going to happen?" His fingers were now tangling together. Pulling on each other as they twisted around.
Brendon laughed. "With Ryan around, something's always bound to happen." I nodded with a smirk and he sighed.
"Brendon, go out and grab my bag." He nodded, turning on his heel to run out. "And if you steal my car, I will take away the cable box." His shoulders slumped in a way that said that I had found him out as he pushed the heavy door open. The ex-cop looking man was now making a small announcement to get everyone out of his club. I went over and sat at the bar, rubbing my face with my hand.
"Long day?" The bartender asked. I nodded and he handed me a drink. "It's on the house." His voice got quieter. "Are you the one that's going to fix everything?" I smiled a little.
"I'll try." I took a sip of my drink and he seemed to relax a little more. His name was Derk, and he had a boyfriend named Greg. He was only in his late teens, making him one of the youngest people who were legal in the small strip club. "Listen Derk, what exactly has happened here since her disappearance?"
He was quite for a moment, thinking. Probably trying to figure out how I knew his name since he wasn't wearing a name tag. "The thing that I've noticed that happens the most is that the girls who go on to replace her act get these sort of...holes. On the side of their necks."
"Holes?"
"Four of them. In the shape of a square. Their deep, like needles made them or something. The girls pass out when they get them, and it only happens on stage." I finish off my drink, glancing over at the stage.
"Anything else?"
"There are these moments," He shivered a little as he thought, looking down at the bar as he spoke. "when I'm closing up the place for the night....The lights go out. Well, almost all of them. The only one that stays on is the stage lights."
And just like that I'm there with him. Two days before the owner called to get me to fix it. My presence unknown, my body missing.
He's staring at the stage, looking up as the lights turn on one by one. The first one shines down on a box sitting on the stage, setting it in a florescent glow. The box is clear, allowing you to see a women that stays inside. She stands there with her eyes closed, her hand on the top of a deers head. She has blue paint all over her, the paint cracking in places to show the tanned skin that lies beneath. Even her hair is painted blue, her eye lashes, her clothes. The ground of the box shes in is white as is the back. She stands still, looking at him with her eyes closed. The only color other than blue that touches her skin is the red that's trickling down the right side of her neck, four small and black holes forming in the shape of a perfect square.
The next light came on. It was on the other side of the stage, another box, only this one was smaller. The girl had her eyes open, staring up at the top of the box that was crushing her. Her hands were flat against the top, the sides pushing up against her. If she were standing, her dress would barley cover her ass, but as she compressed herself to fit into the box, it touched the ground, brushing the bottom of the box. She was frozen mid scream, no sounds coming out of her open mouth. She had the same marks on her neck, the blood being the only thing that moved as it slowly slid out of the holes and down her neck.
Two lights came on at the same time, both on different sides of the stage, going towards the center. Two more boxes. One was filled with water. No. It wasn't water...It was half water and half bleach. Her skin was peeling back, flaking off really, her clothes going colorless. Once again, there was no movement other than the flow of blood coming out of three perfect holes in her neck, the blood mixing with the bleach/water concoction. The other was sitting on a chair, her legs chained to the legs of the chair, her arms handcuffed to a chain that hung from the top. Her eyes were sewn shut, as was her mouth, her ears covered. She wasn't wearing any clothing, her ribs showing almost as if they were getting ready to rip through her skin.
The last light turned on, putting the whole stage into view. She looked like a doll, put onto strings. A smile was painted on her lips, her mouth closed. Strings were tied to her ankles her wrists her head and back. She stayed as a pile of limp limbs on the floor, not being able to stand on her own. And yet, there seemed to be something different with her compared to the rest. She had more than just one square of black holes oozing crimson than the others. They covered her. Her arms, legs, neck, and sides. There was even one on her cheek.
I heard him scream her name, my eyes tearing away from the boxes to the bartender who looked panicked and scared shitless. He ran over to the stage, hosting himself up in a matter of moments. They started to move, each one's movements being slow and jerkish. Almost like they were being controlled. I actually had no doubt that they weren't being controlled. They moved once, the girl in the shrinking box pounding on the top as it closed in on her, the deer biting the blue painted girl as she tried to pull her hand away. The girl in the bleach filled water thrashed, wanting desperately to get out, the girl that was chained pulling on her restraints. The last girl was slowly being pulled upright, her body moving up with her legs still staying limp on the ground. There was no sound in the place other than classical music that seemed like it came from another room in the building.
Each movement was almost like a scratched CD. They would move slightly and then stop before moving more. I watched as he ran over to one of the boxes, lunging for it to pound on the glass. A second before his fists touched it the whole scene disappeared. Each box turning into thin air. He looked around, spinning in circles as he tried to see where they went. The music stopped, the lights turning on and going back to normal.
I was back in the bar, the owner walking over to me at the same time Brendon walked through the door, carrying my bag on his back.
"Candles?" He asked as he opened it and started pulling them out. I got off of the stool I was sitting on, walking over to the younger boy. We both set candles up around the room, lighting them as the bartender left and the owner stood by the bar, scratching his head.
"Why are you doing that?" He asked as I turned off the lights.
"I don't trust electronic lights." When Brendon and I finished lighting all of the candles I turned to look at the man.
"What do we do now?" He asked. I smiled a little.
"We wait." Brendon and I sat down, playing patty cake as we waited. Brendon kept looking around as I stared at his face, wondering when he would figure out what I was thinking. I could picture bad thing that happened in the club. It was old. Excessively old. So many people had been murdered. And one was a little kid...Only about five. I frowned. He was gang raped and then murdered. Who knew?
"STOP STARING AT ME." Brendon's hands dropped, as every head turned to look at the figure that stood behind me. It was the kind that always took the form of you're worst fear, something I was so used to that I hardly cared any more.
"Where did you take her?" I asked as I looked back at Brendon. He was staring at me and gave a small shrug when I looked at him. The owner was looking at the thing, looking so terrified I thought he was going to have a heart attack. I looked into the mirror that was behind Brendon to look at the face of the thing. He was sneering at me.
"Are you going to answer?" I asked rolling my eyes.
"I could kill you." It's voice echoed.
"And that's relevant how?" I raised my eyebrow at it's reflection and it sighed.
"She's in the basement." He dropped a key. Everyone stayed still for a moment.
"Aren't you going to go get your daughter?" I asked as I looked over at the owner. He nodded, picking up the key with trembling hands. The owner ran out of the room, trying to find his lost child. I stood. "What the fuck is your angle? You torture people only to give up that easily?" It smiled at me.
"Weeeeelllll, I was technically hired to do this. I have a note for you." I raised an eyebrow.
"A note?"
"Bad things are coming your way. Just you wait and see." It started to fade as a 'note' was put on the mirror.
"R. S. W. U....What do you think it means?" I sighed, looking at the letters that stayed in a perfect square on the glass, looking almost as if they were carved into it.
"I don't know Brendon...I just don't know." The owner walked back into the room, his kid walking next to him.
"Is it gone?" He asked as he looked around.
I gave a small sigh. "You should be good for a while." Brendon started blowing out the candles, turning on the normal light. The florescent lights burned my eyes as I tried to look at the other people in the room. I was starting to get a headache from all of this.
"What do you mean for a while?" He asked as I dug through my bag.
"Things like that can come back easily. Even more so in places like this that has a lot of dark history." He nodded and I pulled a large green bottle filled with blue powder out of my bag. It was about the size of a wine bottle, only with intricate designs on it. I walked over to him, handing it to the sweaty old man. "If it comes back just blow some onto it or any of it's illusions." He nodded and Brendon put the candles back into my bag.
"You're going to go now?" He asked and I rolled my eyes. Doing this for years was making me a bitter person.
"Only if you don't pay me." He nodded, walking over and giving me some money.
"Thank you so much. So so so much." I nodded, taking the bills. With that I followed Brendon out to my car, the two of us getting in to go to get dinner with our new found payment.

I was sitting in my study, looking at the 'note' that had been given to me. It didn't make any sense at all. It honestly only looked like a group of random letters that were put in a square. The drink in my glass rippled a little and I looked up to see Brendon at the doorway, shifting from one foot to another. I picked the glass up, taking in some of the poison.
"Brendon, you know you can come in. You don't have to stand there." He nodded as he walked in, looking at all of the books and trinkets that lined the shelves. He picked up a rubber snake that had been split in half and had odd markings on it. I watched him, wondering what it was he was doing. He hadn't said a word since we got back. "Brendon, there has to be a reason why you're here." He put the snake down, his hands going into his pockets as he looked over at the far wall.
"I just....Earlier today...When you said that I was..." He paused and my brows furrowed. "Never mind." He walked out of the room and I stared at the closed door, trying to understand what had just happened. And even worse, what was going to happen.


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Katrina_Adams:I'm glad you like it and think it's unusual. Is it weird that I feel like quoting Beetle Juice now? Oh well.

PartyPoison:Don't know if this one is going to get updated all that much. I just don't think it's as good as some of my other stuff. But it's still a story, so it will get some updates. And I'm hopeful that I can keep people liking this one, because it's a little odd.

marissasorrentino:I think I've said this before, but I might not have, I get a lot of inspiration from movies and books and such. And even music sometimes.
And anyway, thanks for the compliment. It means a lot.

-xoxo Pansy.