HM Mafia 1:00AM SERIAL #3: Not Quite the Alamo

Alexander Richards paced his room, the spurs clanging on the ground with each step. He had always wanted an adventure but had a dreadful feeling that this wasn't it. This wasn't going to be some great story of heroism, the stong and silent man, and romance (and damn it, some of these guys were pretty cute!). This was turning into a nightmare of a story.

*Clock Clang*

First the photographer had died, which really was too bad. Alexander had wanted to go with him to the bathroom, of course, but not to help him find it. He wanted to help him find something else. But, in the end, he decided against it, still trying to flirt with that foreign boy. He had always loved accents.

*Clock Clang*

And then the stupid-head had to go off and die. It really was a shame, he would have loved to get some voddo action. Voodoo, whatever.

Out of habit, he reached for his Reds and flipped open his zippo lighter. Taking a few deep drags, savoring the bitter aftertaste and the harsh bite to his lungs, he moved towards the table in his room.

*Clock Clang*

With a screech, the chair slid across the hardwood floor. The cowboy settled in with a graceless, and yet satisfying, thump, and started to write. Clearing what little was on his desk out of the way.

Dear Diary,
he scratched.

Things have gone from bad to even badder. Not only is this whole place a disaster (it would take months with a crew of hardworking men to clean this place up), but now people are dying. They are going down like 'actors' in a gay porn. At first, it was just one or two, but now...
He paused to count on his fingers. Now five whole people have died. It is horrible. I am positive now that I need to just hole up in my room, as appalling as the decor is and wait out the night.

Yours Truly,
Alex Richards, The Last Gay Cowbo


With a crash, his door came flying open. The killer raced across the room, smashing the gay man across the face with a piece of splintered wood. Stumbling to the ground, Alex looked at his assailant and resorted to begging.

"No, please, I don't want to die. I don't need this house, I just want to get out of here! I just want to go home!" He almost added 'Where the buffalo roam, and the skies are not cloudy all day' but for some reason doubted it would be appropriate.

"Shut up, freak," came the voice. And once again the makeshift club came rushing in.

~.~

By the time anyone arrived at the cowboy's room, the dead man's Marlboro had gone out, his pack floating in a pool of spreading blood. There was little else left to identify the man, his head and body were a mutilated mess of gore. Blood covered the walls of the room and broken furniture pieces were scattered about like confetti. The desk, smeared with bloody handprints held only the cowboy's precious diary, still barely used, and a small travelling Bible hastily pushed to the corner of the desk.

Most seemed surprised the cowboy had been targeted, but there was little else that could be done for him now. Silently, a guest reached towards the desk, closed the still open diary, and lay it next to the man.

Cobert 19 years ago
"First the voodoo priest, now the homo cowboy? This adventure has gone from bad to worse."

Clara looked into what remained of the prisoners in this sick game of cat and mouse.

"Unless we get our act together, we are going to meet the same fate."

Clara's confidence however, wavered. The last few attempts to oust what they may have thought have been the people responsible for this, ended in dismal failure. Her survival depended on finding the truth, even if she had no clue where to find it.

Clara paced off, deep in her thoughts, but kept a eye out behind her for she no longer trusted anyone.
Slipnish 19 years ago
Reverend Bob walked down the hallway, and saw the swelling knot of people milling around that homo-seks-uals bedroom. He straightened his tie from nervous habit, and knew at once that this was trouble.

Already the ugly looks and mean spirited mutterings were beginning, and he knew full well the crowd was hell bent for his head on a spike.

"People. People!" He raised his voice to be heard above the mutters and harsh whispers.

"I have told you that this would happen. I told you that this was GAWD'S own judgment on these people for their wicked ways. Now, because I have made my position known to you, you suspect me, a man of the cloth as being culpable for these grisly and hateful acts.

There is probably nothing I can say to dissuade you at this point. I can see from the looks on your faces that many of you have made up your minds.

I have always found comfort in scripture so let me impart some wisdom from the Good Book."

Bob reached in one pocket and pulled out some gold toned reading glasses which he perched at the midpoint of his bulbous nose. Then he reached into his vest pocket and removed a tiny black covered book that everyone was familiar with. It was after all, the best selling book in the world.

Bob looked over the top of his glasses at the crowd, and said, "Today, I'l be reading from the book of Cereals, Chapter 5 verses 9-15.

'And it came to pass that many were anointed and many did partake of the church ritual of holy smokes, and many were sent visions from Gawd.
But many were the disbelievers, and many were the doubters, and many were those that complained for their turn in the holy ritual of Puff, Puff, Pass. And low those that were denied turned their backs on Gawd and were sent away from the Temple out into the wilderness where feral dogs, pigs, stoats, snakes, ferrets, and wildebeasts did attack them, and rend them asunder.

And the Lawd spoke and said, "Oh...wow. Like...you know... Just wow.'

Amen."

The Reverend closed his book and looked at the darkening faces.

"Now what can we learn from this? We can learn that is was NOT the messenger of the holy word that turned upon the masses, but their own choices that lead them astray.

Much like you people are being lead astray. Should this be an end to my ministry, I can only say that I did it for Him. And mark my words. The killings will continue."

The Reverend gathered himself and returned to his room, quietly closing the door, and began looking for an avenue of escape.
Dia 19 years ago
Dia watched as The Rev Bob walked into his room and closed the door. Her mouth agape. she stormed to his door pounding on it.

"Thats all you have to say! Another dead body! Another murder and you preach to us and go hide! Death isnt that easy to just brush off! You bastard come out here!"

she didnt care who heard her tantrum, the reverand was an indignant fool!
Slipnish 19 years ago
Reverend Bob opened his door quietly, and stepped partially back into the hallway.

He stood there, turned sideways, half in and half out of his room, for perhaps fifteen seconds before he spoke. An observant person would have noted that he seemed to be wrestling with his thoughts and trying to curtail his words before he spoke.

"You have something you wish to say?" He asked quietly.

"Perhaps you are disturbed that my way is to find comfort in the voice of the Lawd, while you are more concerned with this earthly shell?"

Bob paused and pushed his glasses up on his nose. He sighed largely, and then turned back to face Dia, stepping fully into the corridor.

"Indignant fool? You call me an indignant fool, and want to bandy about words? Where were your hands when those people died? Have you washed them clean? Or are you stumbling about this hallway, intoxicated with guilt, screaming in the vein of Lady Macbeth to wash the blood from your own damn-ed hands!?! Scream if you will, sinner. Scream raw the lungs that held the breath that fueled the muscle that struck down not one, but three people in this house. Then stand there, wrapped in your indignation, and cast stones from the confines of your own glass house!"

Reverend Bob's voice began to carry, his face grew red, and his eyes narrowed to tiny slits. His hands began to move and his body began to sway with the rhythm of this speech.

"As the Good Book says, 'Let he who is without sin, die young, for surely his is a wasted life. Let him that have no sin step forth and weigh his soul against another, that he may be reminded, judge not, lest you be judged.'"

Bob's speech grew louder again, and flecks of spittle flew from his pudgy lips, striking Dia in the face as he screamed.

"Yea though I walk in the shadow of evil, I will cast no stone, lest the other pilgrim have a half brick. And yea though I walk in the valley of harm, I will place my faith in He who leads me beside the still waters, for of such is the best barley and hops grown. Verily I say unto you, it is better that you had never been born than to cast thy sin on others, and deny that portion of guilt that is thine!

I tell you, take your sanctimonous, holier than thou, sedition down the hall way sister, before I forget that He commands us to love our neighbor as ourselves, 'cause right about now, GAWD may forgive you, but I can sure as hell promise you, I don't have to!

As far as I am concerned, it was probably you that is working behind the scenes for all this time. So quiet and reserved until now. You think that by staying low until now, the others are unaware of your activities? Do you honestly think that by hiding away, you can deny your part? I remind you sister, that there is no closet dark enough that GAWD can not see. There is no SIN so horrible that GAWD will turn away. There is no heart, that GAWD can not touch, though at this moment, I have some non-christian views in mine that say I hope you resist His touch so I can wave to your burning soul from heaven!"

Bob was screaming now, no other word could describe the volume and pressure of speech as he spat each word out towards Dia.

"Now get thee hence! I rebuke you in the name of GAWD! Go about your business of sinning, and lust, and whatever else it is you have been doing since your arrival! I'll pray for you, but the humanity of me won't like doing it one bit! GAWD forgive me!"

Bob turned his back and stomped back into his room, slamming the door hard enough to crack the frame.
Dia 19 years ago
She watched as the door slammed shut once again, this time in her face.

"Judge not, lest ye be judged indeed might Reverend." she send quietly, mostly to herself.

With a small grin on her face, Dia crossed her arms behind her back and walked away.