Living Apocolypse Esoterica - #1

I'm a week late on this (and Weird Writer beat me too it) but here we go.  

The Cast :

- The Referee, played by Wendi.  

- Amina "The Hack" Kandinsky, a salvager, played by myself.

- Charlotte “The Doll” Dufour, a homonculus musician, played by Weird Writer. 

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Late evening at Amina and Charlotte's regular haunt. The bioluminescent lamps paint the place in a queer, underwater sort of light. Charlotte is sitting at their regular booth, watching a modded man with four arms playing two synths at once, to the accompaniment of a singer with a truely prodigious number of breasts. Charlotte didn't think highly of the musical talent tonight, but that's how it was with open mics—take what you can get.

Amina was over at the bar, waiting on their drinks, when out of the crowd steps Fat Zejneb, cornering her. The older woman put out her cigarette and leaned in conspiratorially. Amina fidgeted, wanting to get away, but still waiting on the drinks. It was surprising to see the fence here. She almost never left her computer repair shop.

Zejneb had a job for her, see. A lower level had recently been opened up for salvage, but the first crew that went down had all died—to the last man. Zejneb's buyers were willing to put down big money on the recovery of whatever was down there. Double—triple even—the usual rate.

The Hack nodded along in a non-committal fashion, internalizing what Zejneb was saying, but looking to wriggle away the first opportunity she could get, so that she could think the thing over. Eventually, she got her chance, and slunk back to the booth where Charlotte sat.

While Amina had been talking with Fat Zejneb, Charlotte's mother had turned up, carrying a big suitcase, and flanked by two other witches.

The Hack sat down at the table just as the witches got up to leave. Charlotte filled her in. Amina begin to complain about Zajneb, but stopped short, as they both watched two pale men stand up and very deliberately follow the witches out.

They glanced at one another, then stood, and hurried to the door. There was a flash of light from outside.

They arrived just in time to watch Charlotte's mother run off into the gloom with her suitcase, leaving the other two witches to struggle with the pale men at the end of the block. The pale men wore suits and their heads were shaven. They carried mean looking knives. One of them was missing an arm (it was lying on the pavement nearby) but it didn't seem to bother him.

The witches were crouched down low, like the knife-fighters, but with pieces of chalk pinched between their fingers. When they got the chance, they'd lunge and scratch a marking onto the ground.

Amina scooped up an empty bottle from the litter on the curb, yelled "Hey fuckface!," and hurled it at one of the pale men. It bounced of his back and onto the ground, but he swung around to glare at The Hack and to tell her to mind her own business. She spit a glob of phlegm at him.

Charlotte began to play her flute, weaving together a potent melody, but in her nervousness mucked up the notes and fumbled the instrument into the curbside refuse.

Amine collected another bottle, and another, taunting the pale man, threatening to throw them whenever he took a step toward her, ready to run the moment he actually advanced on her.

But while he was distracted, the witches finished their spell. The first pale man, the one-armed one, dropped his knife as he began to bubble and melt from the inside out, collapsing into a pile of steaming meat. The second man's face began to boil and, after a glance at his fallen comrade, he booked it into the night.

Amina dropped the remaining bottles she'd been holding. Charlotte found her flute and began wiping it off. They both trotted over to where the two witches stood, tending to each-other's injuries.

Immensely grateful, the witches explained that they were relative novices, who'd sought out Sophia, Charlotte's mother, for protection. Someone was hunting witches down for the "eggs" inside them; the knots of alien flesh gifted by the Black Goat, which granted them their flesh-shaping powers. With Sophia gone, they were distraught.

Amina's mind worked fast. She told them about how she was planning a salvage expedition to one of the lower levels, and that Sophia's secret lab was on the way, so they could take the witches with and drop them off. Everyone quickly agreed to this plan.

Deciding it was best to get off the street (and since Charlotte's home was with her mother), Amina lead the gang to her own apartment, which was nearby, up a rusty flight of stairs, clinging to a support pillar.

The interior of the apartment was a mess, cluttered with salvaged junk that Amina hadn't yet sold, or couldn't sell, arranged in a haphazard fashion.

Feeling nervous, she closed the door to her small bedroom, cleared off the kitchenette, and began to make coffee for everyone. The performance soothed her nerves.

After making everyone coffee, Amina got on the phone and started calling up contacts, feeling out if there was anyone who'd act as a guide for the lower levels. While she did that, the two witches and Charlotte talked. Then the witches started disrobing.

As she watched, phone forgotten, the two witches pressed their nude bodies together and began to paint strange symbols upon themselves in their own blood. As they chanted their wounds began to knit back together.

The ritual over and Amani feeling strange and embarrassed, she called up a guy with snail-eyes named Danton, who worked as an illicit guide, and agreed to meet tomorrow to go over the details.

That night, the two witches slept naked and curled up around one another on the floor of Amina's living room, while she and Charlotte slept on opposite sides of her bed. The homonculus had a fitful night, spent in the grip of strange dreams.