American Bad Blood: City of the Dead

Sandman

I'm so cold.

and wet.

I'm also confused.

Where am I? Oh wait-why am I here?

It seems this rain is never going to stop. I'm drenched in pure, salty rain; my opaque sheer ivory-tinted dress clinging onto my body, allowing my skin to show through, right down to the rosy dark pink of my nipples. My body reacts to the wetness of the droplets, goosebumps developing all over my skin.

Gio? Thomas? Z? Anyone?

I look around, the only thing in sight was the grim fascade of The Graveyard-nothing more. But why would I be here? I never cared for this place. This was her place. Her sancuary. Her baby, if anything. Right now-it was looking more like a menence-just mocking me with it's grandeur. Cue Otherworldly Concerto "Haunted Mansion" theme song, please. I shiver at just the sound of the eerie organ notes playing in the back of my mind.

The Graveyard is all I see-I look to my right. Total pitch, black darkness. I look to my left-darkness again. Where was the city scape? Hell, where was Heritage Memorial Park? It seemed The Graveyard had emerged from this blanket of darkness; well, at this point, it was starting to look like my only option. I gather the drenched hem of my dress, the bottom soaked from standing in this pouring rain for so long, the droplets trailing down from my face to my collarbone, my hair slick and sticky from the water. My feet meet pavement, the rocky, pinching slippery wet pavement causing friction against the bottom of my feet. I rally up some courage to sprint up to the midnight black carved wood double Victorian doors, the ornate carvings embossed into the solid oak of the castle like doors. I hesitate for just a millisecond until I decide it was now or never-I pound on the doors, calling out to whomever-whatever-was listening on the other side.

My cries and pleas for entry go un-heard-or so I think. I give up-forfeiting my one chance to find comfort in some sort of heat rather than being soaked in coldness. I look over my shoulder to stare out at the rain, which seems to have picked up. Ominous, hushed thunder claps nearby, it's regal sound booming over The Graveyard as the rain pattered onto the grovel. Just when I give up all hope, the eroded black ornate lanterns on each side of the doors flicker on, one of the doors to the "mansion" suddenly creaking open, the sound of a dead blot being moved sliding out of place. I shiver, not because I'm cold, but because of the sound of the eerie creaking and moaning of the door mysteriously opening, not a living soul popping their head out to greet me. The slow, aching creaking makes my stomach turn, even more, it makes my heart drop to my knees. I look back out towards the bleak darkness and coarse rain-well, it was either standing out here like an idiot or it was venturing inside the house of hell.

Great.

I opt for the Haunted House on Haunted Hill. I gather as much courage as I could before taking my first steps into the "mansion."

"H-Hello?" I peek my head into the "home", expecting to be greeted by The Graveyard's usual interior-a gothic high vault arched foyer leading to the larger high vault domed shaped "ballroom" with the six tier disco balls chandelier twinkling in the low light; rows and rows of dark red velvet tufted cushioned booths scattered like a crescent along the glassy-LED trimmed dancefloor. Tall, dark oak columns hold up the cathedral like ceiling, the gothic dark oak ornate carved bar seated towards the far left side of the club. The Graveyard is over the top-much like her, but something is off about this place.

I'm afraid I'm not in Kansas anymore.

Instead of being welcomed by such, The Graveyard has somehow become what it pretends to be-that of a haunted mansion. It was as if I had become Jim Evers and was transported into a foyer resembling Gracey Manor from "The Haunted Mansion" except this foyer screamed regal and evil. There was no way this shit hell had 999 happy haunts. Flames from candle operas flicker on once I step foot into the mansion, and that ghostly tune of Otherworldly Concerto hums in the back of my head once more. This place is giving me the fucking creeps. No way am I going to stay any longer...