Tagged: Serial Saturday

In the years that followed I became a recluse. I was now thirty-five and Tana’s parents never heard from me again, nor did law enforcement or officer Daniel. Her murder when unsolved. I spent my time working at a manufacturing plant and rented out a small high rise condo in the heart of the city. I still saw Rose Kay from time to time. She forgave me for stealing her jacket and was equally of fearful of Mr. Henrys threat in the first few months. We talked about Tana, but always wound up talking in circles.

Tana was killed because her goodness of heart could not be undone. She cared to much for the common people to live the life of Dream Rabbit. Dream Rabbits philosophy while anti-society and anti-goodwill, was unfortunately, the way of the world. Tana knew that, but she didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to believe people were capable of kindness, charity and goodwill but humans are primarily self interested organisms influenced by two things: Hunger pangs and satiating their sexual impulses. Mr. Henry knew this. Tana knew this. And now I knew this. Every human activity outside these was just a knack for killing time. Our only real function was to consume and copulate. Emotions, feelings, thoughts didn’t matter. Civilization was a farce. The general rule of life was, above all things, to enjoy oneself and to indulge in pleasure seeking as much as humanly possible while avoiding pain.  

 In the winter time I met with Rose Kay at a coffee shop in the upper part of the city. She knows I don’t go out much in fear that I might be being watched.

“So you’re gonna stay a recluse forever?” Rose Kay ask.

“No, but you have to understand why I fear them.” I say, “I really fucked up putting myself in the crosshairs like that.

“Do something for me?” she says.

“Anything”

“Come see me dance at the club.”

“Yeah, the club he manages. I don’t think so.”

“It’s been years Vincent.. Had he wanted to kill you he’d have done it by now.”

“You think so?”  

“I think you let this whole Tana Molnar thing ruin your whole life.” She bites her lip and smiles “If you continue to live like this you’ll regret it on your deathbed.”

Pause.

“I mean, I never thought of you as much of a man, but I never took you for this much of a coward…”

Silence.

“I have an idea.” I manage to say.

“What’s that?”

“I’m going to write a memoir about what happened and release it to the public. I don’t care if I’m killed. I honestly don’t.” I look out the window to the side of me watching

traffic go by. “That’s the only thing to do.”

“You know why I’m your girlfriend?” Rose smiles

“Why?” I say

“Because deep down you’re not a coward. You’re fearless.”

In due time, Dream Rabbit expanded. They now had their reach across the entire US. There was a national crisis of missing girls the same year, an epidemic of kidnappings. Young women were turning up dead left and right and the president issued a program to stagnate said crimes, but it was all useless. Dream Rabbit had become too powerful and there were too many public officials who were clients for the program to have any real stopping power. I felt useless but I continued to work on the novel.  I spent my days writing the novel from my apartment. I fasted during this time and lost weight. At night I went for long walks in the central park recounting all the details of the story, taking notes on my iphone. Was my apartment bugged? Rose called me one night and told me she thought she was being followed. Dream Rabbit had a watchful eye over every aspect of our lives down to our employment to the point where we’d notice men in suits staking out our workplace.  One night we decided to go to a Boy Harsher concert at the Electric Factory. The song “Fate” was playing. The lyrics “You’re always running. Always running away.” 

In the news, girls continued to disappear. A brothel was found abandoned and left as evidence were the remains of two college age girls clothes, all bloodied and tarnished. Law enforcement was always two steps behind. Dream Rabbit had been in the game all this time and not once had any of their operations been busted, at least to public knowledge. It got to the point where anonymous internet users began speculating on internet forums about a hidden ring. Said users were more useful than police ever were and having known about the organization, many of the posts were accurate to my experiences. One night I was sitting on my computer participating in such forums where a user made a post that stood out to me. The post reads:

My name is Isaac and tonight I’m dropping some vital breadcrumbs. There was sex shop in Philadelphia called a Sex Machines. Last Friday the Owner, Otis Blackwood, was found dead of an overdose and the place has since shut down. Rumor on the street is He was a connoisseur and distributor of snuff films and used the business as a front to launder money to some defunct corporation known as “Dream Rabbit Enterprises.” I did a little digging and found an unlisted website. Though their ‘about us’ section is vague, it claims they are a “hedonist paradise” and a membership costs five hundred thousand a year. Listed was their New York address. I went to the building only to find it completely abandoned. I got spooked when I felt I was being watched in the warehouse and got the hell out of there fast. For the past six weeks I have been receiving anonymous phone calls. Last night I heard a loud bang at my door and this morning when I went to open said door I found a decapitated kitten on the floor of it. My bank accounts are frozen and the power has been shut off in my house. I’m writing this from a library computer. Pray for me.  

This was Isaac’s final post.

I get a call in Mid-March concerning Rose. She’s been killed in a car accident. My first thought is one of profound acceptance as I never believed for one second Dream Rabbit would let her go after she killed The Siren and he waited years to carry out the hit only to toy with my emotions. It was no accident. Rose was driving along the freeway when a car came from the other lane and hit her head on. When I read the article online, I saw that the vehicle who caused the accident had no registration or inspection stickers. It was a hit and run which only confirmed my suspicions. I went to the funeral the next week and was not surprised to see that no family showed to pay their respects. Her obituary had a bitter tinge to it, like it was written by a scorned family member, perhaps her father. I lay flowers down at her gravestone to pay my respect and shed tears and when I do the wind picks up and it starts raining.     

The same week I visit my old college. My old stomping ground. I feel uneasy walking past the site of the shooting and when I did so I tread carefully almost as if the violence of it was still there, stuck in time. I pass through the music hall and go to the grand hall for the athletic department. I run into a janitor mopping the halls and he ask me if I know where I’m going.

“I used to go here.” I tell him.

“You need  a visitor’s pass..” He tells me.

“It’s okay, I’m leaving.” I say. “I just wanted to check out some of the alumni photographs.”

If you are reading this, it is the end of my story. Once I put out this memoir, a

 target will be on my back if there isn’t one already.. I’m not sure I will survive and frankly I don’t care. I’ve lived in

fear long enough. Tana wouldn’t want me to live like this, nor would Rose, the latter of which death I hold tremendous responsibility. It’s a burden I carry every day and one I will never put down.  To Tana’s  parents, I am sorry I could not bring her murderer, Jaques Mallick, to justice. I am sorry for being weak. But know your daughter was the person she projected herself to be and not the other way around. I wish to fight my own hedonistic ways and be more like the public figure Tana was.The last time I saw Tana I was standing next to her in a picture that we had taken at a college film festival. When I went through the athletic section today I notice the picture had been apart of their grand hall, dead center between the trophies they won for their basketball team’s big championship victory. Tana, Casey and I. I took the fragile photo from the case and held it dearly to me and in the reflection of the glass I saw a black van watching from outside the building and then drive off as I turned around to meet it.

 

 

 

Part Six 

I entered the Casino lobby at ten PM. I was met with the faint smell of smoke and the sound of coin machines echoing throughout the floor. There’s no cover charge. I ask a waitress if I can speak with Rich Boyd the owner of BoydCasinos. She laughs inmy face and walks away with her tray. I walk up to a table where they’re playing Black Jack. I join in on the game and am met with a subtle look of nonchalance by the host and the other two party members, one of which is wearing a gray suit and the other still in his pajamas who looks like he rolled right out of bed. Another big chested waitress approaches me and ask what I want to drink. I tell her I’ll have a Heineken. The game goes on for about thirty minutes and I hardly know what I’m doing. I look to my right and near the ceiling is a CCTV camera looking right over the table. I get an idea.

“Sir, do you want to draw or stay?” the card dealer asks monotonously.  

“Draw” he throws me a card. “I mean stay.”

“Sir you can not retract the draw you just made.”

“Oh can I not? I asked for a fucking stay and you threw me a card.”

“Sir?” his voice remaining calm. 

I throw the chips all over the table in frustration, upon which the two gentlemen I’m playing with grab me by my leather jacket and lift me into the air. Within seconds security rushes to the scene. I’m whisked away from the table and before I know it being escorted down the halls of the casino by two security guards towards the back street of the casino. The metallic door flies open and I’m thrown into the guttural street. I immediately spring into action and try to throw a swing at one of the guards and I hit him in the ear. He screams assault and the other guard runs to his aid and pins me down on the ground.

“You just assaulted a casino employee. We will hold you for that til the police can arrive.”

I’m brought to an office where I sit tied to a chair.  There’s a calendar of a nude model and on the desk a cactus plant.  The two guards laugh at me while I struggle with my nose bleeding all over my white shirt. 

“Don’t worry tiger…” The guard I hit says. “A swing like that will get you a nice criminal charge.” He starts ranting more about fines and whatnot until the words escape from my mouth “Tana Molnar.”

Silence.

“What?” one of the guards says “What did you say?

“I came here to talk to Rich Boyd about Tana Molnar.”

I’m uncuffed by the guard I punched and once again hauled into a hallway, which leads to a suite on the fourth floor. They put me in a chair where I’m sat across from a finely groomed man wearing a suit, his leg folded over the other and his hairline somewhat receded.

“I am Rick Boyd” he says.

He gives me a tissue to stuff my nose.

“I came here to talk to you about Tana” I say, my voice muffled as I apply the knotted Kleenex into my nostril. “She used to work here.”

“Indeed she did.” Replies Boyd. “But that doesn’t give you the right to break the rules and trash the casino floor.”

“I’m sorry.” I’m exhausted. “It was very foolish of me.”

“Anyway you have it Tana is dead. The whole community is grieving over this. Why Would you come to our establishment and ask about her?”

Silence.

“Because I know you were one of her clients as a high end call girl.

“So what if I was?” He smirks. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“You could be implicated in sex trafficking if people suspected it… You could have saved her and instead you chose to use her as a sex object like everyone else. As far as I’m concerned, we all have blood on her hands.”

“But I didn’t kill Tana. Someone else did. And If I knew who had done it I would gladly join you in wrangling their neck. Now quit it with the school-boy heroics and go home. We will dismiss what you did to my employee if you promise to stay off the casino grounds.”

“Wait….” I say “Did you really have sex with Tana?”

Boyd smiles. “Many times.”

Boyd told me about all the degenerate acts Tana would perform. She was willingly to do everything and anything. Once again I felt a mixture of envy, resentment and passion. Passion that had and never will be mine for Tana. I was foolish for my school boy infatuation. Tana was no angel. If anything, she had the heart of seasoned harlot and the mind of a criminal.

“No, I didn’t kill Tana, my dear boy. Tana was a good employee. We all loved her,” he begins to cry profusely. “And I can’t imagine what her poor parents are feeling, or wondering if her double life will emerge in the public eye.”

“One last thing” I say defeated. “Do you know anything about Dream Rabbit.”

“Dream Rabbit?” says Boyd “No. But I did talked to Tana about a client who scared her….”

According to Rick, Tana had met a man named Otis Blackwood who was into more extreme forms of sex.

“He was a connoisseur of extreme porno films” The security guard says. “Have you ever seen a snuff film?”

“No.” I say.

“Otis Blackwood is a distributor of pornographic bondage films. He owns a sex shop in the city called ‘Sex Machines'”

I took out my Tanas black book. Otis is listed as a client.

“I’ll check it out.” I add.

I leave Rich a crying mess and start towards the nearest hospital for my potentially broken nose. It was in the early morning hours of night I approach Sex Machines, the rain coming down hard against a jet black sky. I hadn’t been in contact with my mother in over a week. I checked my text and had one from Rose Kay with only three words:

 

 HE’S WATCHING YOU!

 

I try to send her a message back but the service from my cell  phone is in a dead zone. I’d panic, but I know it’s no flub. Someone IS watching me. I can feel it. I go into Sex Machines. The store was across from a parking garage in the middle of a metropolis. The whole place smells of rubber and candles. It’s vacant. I ring a bell that sits on the glass countertop of the front desk. Inside the shelves are sex toys and poppers. Other sex stimulants and gas station viagra. A man in leather emerges from behind a red curtain in a backroom. He’s in his mid-forties and gaunt like a skeleton dressed in bondage gear with a handlebar mustache.

“Are you Otis Blackwood?” I ask.

“Yeah man.” He smiles with an unnerving presence. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m into Serfdom.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask who told you to tell me that?”

“A girl named Night Nocturne.”

“Step this way” He says as he pulls the curtain back which leads to another hallway, booths of televisions playing pornographic films. Another black man stands at the endof the hallway keeping watch. “I’ll take you to our special booth.” Otis says.

All I can hear is the barely audible sound of women orgasms coming from the televisions. The hallways are dank and dark. We approach the black man who stands in front of the final door.

“My new friend.” Otis tells the bald black man, his arms fold and his facial expression deadly serious. The black man steps aside and we go into the studio room which has a big seventy inch HD television equipped with surround sound and a DVD player. Otis goes to pop in a DVD. I sit on the couch.

“Wait til you see this shit man.” Otis remarks.

The video starts as incomprehensible pixelated images flash across the screen until it suddenly stops flickering and the camera focuses on a woman tied up in bondage against a table sitting on a wall. First she is whipped. She seems to enjoy it. Then a a man in a mask comes into frame. He has a large hunting knife. He puts it to her throat. Suddenly she becomes on edge, but she’s bound and can do nothing about it so she tries to relax. The man then socks her in the face, leaving a large bruise near her cheekbone. She starts to cry. The gimp makes his mark by cutting into one of her breast and making it bleed. I look at Otis who watches in a daze.

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part man.” He says. 

I immediately stand up as I can no longer watch what’s happening on screen. Otis shuts the film off.

“Hey I told you this was some extreme shit. Still, even though you didn’t watch til the end you still gotta pay.”

I throw him eighty dollars and tell him I want out of the shop. I feel my face start to redden. I’m sweating, unable to hide my anxiety. He can tell I’m on edge.

“What was the name of that girl that sent you here?”

“Night Nocturne” I gulp.

“Here you go, bro.” Otis hands me a business phone. A Verizon flip phone. He tells me to go to the contacts. I do and I see a number for Dream Rabbit. I take the card and run out the studio door and through the hallway past the black man who screams at me to slow my pace. I make it back to the parking garage and whip out my own phone. First I go to call Rose Kay but once again it says service is disabled. I try to call Tana’s Parents, but the service is a no go. I’ve searched and uncovered all their is to uncover. But none of the calls go through. I call the number for Dream Rabbit from the flip phone. It goes through. A man with one of the deepest sounding, almost inhumanly so, voices I’ve ever encountered answers. I recognize his voice from a dream I had about Tana.

“Hello, Vincent.” He says. 

“You know my name.” I reply, my voice stoic and without trembling.

“I’ve been watching you.”

Pause.

He continues “My name is Mr. Henry.

“I know who I’m speaking with. Your reputation precedes itself.”

“I’m in a high rise building on Samson street, the fiftieth floor. The top floor. I wish to speak with you as soon as possible.” He continues “I wanna talk about Tana.”

“I’ll be there.” I say. 

It’s two AM when I make my way past an intersection and I am surprised by how desolate the streets are, almost apocalyptically so.  I arrive at Samson street and come to realize it’s a construction zone and there likely isn’t a police unit for five blocks. I look up at the building, a brooding monolith, it stands erect like a fierce dragon. I’m surprised to find the glass front door open and when I enter I close it quietly behind me and head past the marble lobby and towards the elevator. The place is seemingly empty, or is it? I go in and push the fiftieth floor. The elevator doors close and it goes up weightlessly and without any real effort.

I stand in the elevator soaking wet, my hair dripping. As it rises I can see all of the city below me sparklingly vibrant and without a sound. The doors open and that’s when I notice the big scar on his face, the overwhelming whiteness of his eyes. I approach him cautiously. Mr. Henry. His sky rise is posh and free from any blemishes. Mr. Henry himself is rather fit and proper. I notice there’s a fireplace and beside it a bar with every kind of liquor known to man. I feel out of place and on the defense. I imagine there’s spooks hiding in some corner of the room ready to guard him, but after further inspection it looks as if it’s only the two of us. He eventually turns from staring out the window at the rainy dark and we lock eyes for the first time. 

“Mr. Henry?”

“You are, Mr. Black, I presume?”

“Yes.” I say shivering. 

“I want to explain to you my philosophy of pleasure.”

Silence.

“You see, the only real thing worth pursuing in life is carnal euphoria. Nothing else really matters. Everything you hold sentimental to you is but a distraction. Your family, your work your artistic pursuits. “ He continues, “ All of it pales in comparison to the sexual limits one can reach. Not even the greatest sunset or the most breathtaking view can compare. And I think you know this to be true.

“I’m listening” I reply.

“You want to talk about Tana Molnar, don’t you.”

“That’s why I’m here.” I say, “Do you care if I smoke?”

“Go right ahead.” He laughs.

“Tana was one of my dearest girls. I was watching her when she was just sixteen. I knew of all her troubles. Her depression, her suicidal thoughts, Her forced institutionalization.”

He pours himself a drink, “Tana, initially showed interest in ‘crossing over’ but her heart was too pure for it and that was her undoing.”

“Crossing over?”

“The Outer Rim, yes.” Mr. Henry Continues “You see, there exist another world outside of this one. Few people can reach it. I possess the power to do so. It’s a place of never ending sexual pleasures with young nymphets who are eager and willing. The violence and the brutality of this world ceases to exist there.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“It is.”

“Then why did Tana reject it?”

He ignores my questions and goes back to his sermon.

“You’re whole life has been a lie, Vincent. Pleasure will always triumph over justice. Deep down you are like me. And soon you’ll have realized what a waste of time this whole silly adventure has been trying to get to the bottom of Tana’s death. Tana takes the appearance of a lamb, but deep down she is a dog who will always surrender to her evolutionary biology. Hedonism is the only real..”

I cut him off.

“Why did you murder Tana?”

“Because of the ‘goodness of her heart…’ he mocks her “…won over paradise.” Tana disagreed with my interpretation of the world. I may have had corrupted her, but I couldn’t corrupt her unselfish spirit. She still wanted to stay here to help the needy, the downtrodden and lesser beings.The commonwealth I wish to make my slaves. 

“That doesn’t explain why you killed her.” I shout.

“She knew too much about The Outer Rim. I feared she would expose me. She became a liability.” He continues “Which is why I brought you here today Mr. Black… To relay to you the same message. If you continue on this path, you will be killed.”

Paused.

“Mr. Henry continues. “ Dream Rabbit is a large organization. We’ve been handling girls for many years, all of which respect or at least fear us. Some are happy to leave this world and go to The Outer Rim.”

“I know all about it.” I say “You’re a cult leader.”

“If you don’t back down, I’m afraid your life will be also treated as a liability for our organization.”

I think for a moment. I think of something profound to say but the only thing I can muster is “What about Rose? Will she be okay? Will she be safe from harm?”

“She’s safe as long as the two of you give up your inquiries and turn the other cheek.”
He stares at me for an uncomfortably long time and then walks towards me, almost as if he’s gliding and goes to shake my hand. Reluctantly, I see no other choice but to meet his gesture. “What about Mr. and Mrs. Molnar. What will I tell them?” I say weakly. 

“You are never to talk to them again. In time, they will understand and hopefully see you in a favorable light for trying.”
Pause. 

He continues “Now go out and enjoy life. You have a great new girlfriend. It would be a shame to throw that all away.” 

I took the elevator downstairs. My phone was still out of service so I hit up a nearby dive bar and grabbed a drink, defeated. A woman my age tried  to chat me up but I was too distracted by Tana and what Mr. Henry had told me I barely registered her talking to me. I walked the cobbled streets of the city and saw an entrance way for a subway. I sat at the wooden bench waiting for the train. Thirty minutes later it arrived and I sat in the back booth by myself. When my stop came I noticed a group of Frat boys smiling at me from a distance. I was in no mood to fight. They probably thought I had cash. I didn’t. I had no more than forty bucks left in my wallet. When the first one jumps on me he strikes me across the face with a weight that nearly knocks me off my feet. The second one kicks me in the gut and the third one rolls me over and takes out my wallet from my rear back pocket.

“Forty bucks!” the leader exclaims “You broke faggot.”

They take turns wailing on me and I’m honestly too tired other then to just roll up in a ball and try to protect my face. They eventually get tired and run off once another a woman spots them wailing on me. I spit up blood then puke in a nearby trash can. In the guttural street, the dawn rising, blood and bruised I remember Tana and proclaim my eternal love for her.

 

 

Part Five

In the morning we pack up our clothes and I grab Tana’s black book. We eat at a
Mexican restaurant called El Limon and afterwards check into the Red Roof Inn near
the airport. I take the car out for a drive by myself while Rose hangs back at the Red
Roof. I’m on I-95 and it’s raining again and from my passenger side I can see planes
taking off amongst a gray airspace. I look in my rearview and that’s when I see it. The
same black van from the film festival trailing me ever so innocuously. I get off at an exit
to see if the driver is following me and sure enough he switches on his turn signal and
heads towards the ramp. I pull up to a light. It pulls up behind me, The windows are still
tinted and I can’t make out whoever’s operating it, but I assume Jaques. To the right of me is a state trooper. I decide to follow him all the way to the police station and when we get there the van peels off speedily in the other direction.

I haul ass back to the Red Roof and let Rose know what happened. She gets
spooked and once again we change motels, only this time it’s the Days Inn. That night
Rose tells me the story of how she became a stripper as we lie in bed.

“I was nineteen.” She says “My home life was one of domestic violence. My step-father,
an ex-cop, was a real mean son of a’ bitch.” She continues “One night he kicks me out
as he claimed I disrespected by raising my voice to him during an argument. He trashed
the whole place and said if I came back he’d kill me. I had nowhere else to go and I was
walking the street I saw The Rabbit in Silk from a distance. I thought ‘What is that
place?’ the fancy lights flickered and from down the street I could see men going in and
out in and out. I went inside that night and did and interview and the next day I was
working. I made 2k my first week. Enough to put a deposit down on my own place. From
there it was a no-brainer. I was going to be a dancer.”

Pause.

“What about you Vincent? What’s your story?”

“I come from a single mother household.” I tell her. “My dad left when I was four. He
was a deadbeat. Wouldn’t work. Claimed disability yet it wasn’t enough to provide for
my mother and I. He started abusing my mom because she was hiding money to use it
for me to go to college with. I haven’t heard from him in years. Not sure I want to now.
We do fine on our own.”

“Does your mom know about Tana?”

“She knows the police pulled me aside and I left it at that, but she thinks I’m currently doing
internship stuff.”

“We should go visit her! I’ll introduce myself as your girlfriend and make her so proud!”
“Not now. There’s too much heat on us.”

Pause.

“Vincent, I am your girlfriend, right?”

I kiss her on the lips and we embrace under the blankets and I think to myself what a
a strange world it is that a beauty queen’s murder led me to find my first real girlfriend.
Before escaping the Pleasure Point, Rose managed to grab a book from Jaques
desk. The book, worn and dated, and seemingly of ancient greek descent was titled
‘The Pleasure Imperative’ written by ‘the board of directors.’ Multiple authors. Rose is
sleeping. I watch her snore ever so gracefully and turn my head when a floodlight of
high beams lights up our room casting a white glow over her. I run to the window to see
who it is, and I see a family of four exiting a mini-van with their dinner going back to their
room. I go to my desk and retrieve the book from my drawer. The first page reads:

Mission Statement:
Dream Rabbit embodies a set of consistent principles that align with human nature. When you are reconciled to the fact that every human being is out for his or herself, you will begin to understand our philosophy. Men seek one thing in life: Pleasure. Dream Rabbit seeks to optimize its ideology by focusing on sex as a transcendent act. Men are the buyers, and women are the sellers. That’s how it’s always been since the beginning of time. The family unit is blasphemous. Our true function as humans is to consume and copulate and spread our superior DNA far and wide.

In the shadows, exist another realm. One of never ending pleasures such as orgies, wealth and the taste of the finest wines. This place is called: The Outer Rim and it’s governed by its king, Mr. Henry. One day we will lead all young nymphets into said superior realm and cast our controlling hand over the rest of the country, and in time, the world, turning them into our serfs.

On this day, we shall rejoice as we have escaped the trappings of the world and created our own faultless utopia.
– The Board of Directors

The rest of the book went into detail about the early days of Mr. Henry. He was born in
Bulgaria, came from poverty, and in his college years had been a student at a
university in New York getting his masters in biology acing all classes with a 4.0 GPA. It
went on to detail the early days of the cult and how drawn its members were to Mr.
Henry, a man of charm and intelligence citing him as “Potentially not entirely human.” In
the early days, the team preyed on young runaways of “genetic superiority” and as the
organization grew larger they focused on modeling agency and runway models and
eventually, pageant queens. In the early days, Girls were threatened and blackmailed if they
tried to flee having provided collateral during their initiations. As the organization grew
more powerful, they began eliminating girls sawn as liabilities or threats to the
foundations of “Dream Rabbit.” These deaths were staged as suicides mostly. Most girls
were killed once they reached thirty. That was the expiration date.

In one of the stories, a young woman by the name of Erin Cunningham tried to escape
from a private brothel set up in the Philly suburbs. She escaped out into the street, but
was pulled back into a van by Jaques and branded and put in a cage for thirty days for
the failed attempt. Neglected, she died weeks later of starvation.

At the final page of the book exist a quote:

“It is only by way of struggle, where one
arrives at pleasure. Never give up.”

I close the cover and go outside where it’s raining and light up a smoke. When I do I
notice the power is out as far as I can see.

We need money so Rose dances a few nights at a place called Baby Dolls. I’m
watching from my seat as she dances to a new song by She’s Passed Away – Ritual. The man sings in Turkish “Kemiriyor Bockler. Direniyor Kemilker. Aciyi Hisset!” Rose slides down the pole. She claps her heels together making a loud clicking noise and does an upside down split prompting the crowd to wolf whistle. She pushes herself against the mirror and waddles her ass while pouting her lips. She shakes her hair back and forth as she grips the pole and from the sidelines a businessman throws a wad of twenties on the stage that flutters in the air like floating feathers.

Rose quickly collects them. Next to me is an older man attached to an oxygen tank who looks like he has one foot in the grave. A fight breaks out between two customers, a pagan biker and some frat boy so I signal to Rose it’s time to leave. She stuffs the cash
inside her bra, throws on her fur peacoat and we exit out the back door and stumble into the alleyway.

“How much?” I say.

“About nine hundred.” She shows me the cash.

“That’ll last us for the week.” I continue “Listen, I want you to take the car and go back to
the motel. I’m going to catch a cab to the Casino to see Rick Boyd, the owner.”
She hands me two-hundred dollars and tells me to triple it up, to which I smile at the
thought.

From across the way I see a dark figure emerge from behind the wall of a smoked out
sewer. He begins walking towards us and I see he’s wearing a fedora and long wool
trench coat, his face shrouded in mystery. Rose grabs my arm. I pull out my blade and
and raise it in defense. For a moment, I think it’s Jaques but when the mans comes to
me stepping under the alleyway light, I realize it’s not Jaques, but Tana’s father.
“Mr. Molnar.” I let down the knife.

Silence. His face is solemn and without any emotion then perhaps permanent grief.
“I ask you to talk to my daughters friend for information and I find out the two of you are
running around fleecing gentlemen’s clubs?”

“We needed more money.” I say “Mr. Monlar…. We are on the cusp of something big.”
“Go home and be with your wife. She needs you.” Rose says.

“You’re right.” He says slightly embarrassed. “I shouldn’t be out here. I just needed some
fresh air. I can’t seem to find it in this godforsaken dump of a city.”
I nod.

“I’m going home.” He nearly cries “Vincent, I am sorry for putting you through this. You
can go home too if you want.”He falls to his knees and immediately Rose gasps and goes to help him up. In a puddle on the damp street, his pant legs all wet, Rose and I escort Mr. Molnar back to a cab. I tell him to take care of himself and I’m on my way to the casino to see Boyd.

 

 

Part Four

 

Jaques Mallick was married to a woman who was a nightclub singer at a joint called The Pleasure Point. The dress code was a strict business casual or cocktail attire. At the motel I put on my Tom Ford suit and Rose slips into a dress resembling something out of the roaring twenties. “It’s a modern place” I tell her. “You’re gonna stand out.” She ignores me and puts on black lipstick in the bathroom mirror. 

“We are going into the belly of the beast.” I tell her. “Are you ready for this?” She approaches me and runs her fingers through my hair. “Are you ready?” She reveals to me she has a gat in her garter belt strap. 

We approach the club which is a two level speakeasy and from outside I can hear the music pulsating from inside the congested establishment. A long line of guest waiting to get in wraps around the corner. Since I’m with Rose, couples are first to enter. We pass the bouncer and once I’m inside I’m met with a bustling dance floor of swampy people dancing to The Sisters of Mercy’s “Dominion.” The singer chants “Some Day, Some Day, Some Day…. Dominion.” Neon spotlights shift up and down and every which way casting vibrant colors all over the walls. On the high stages, two half-naked women dance in cages with Venetian mask and perform faux-sexual acts on each other. Rose and I approach the bar and order a drink. “What’ll it be?” the middle aged bartender ask.

“Two Heinekens” I tell him. 

“That’s twelve.” he responds. I pay him and he hands me two ice cold drinks and I turn around and lean up on the bar soaking in the rich atmosphere. I notice the VIP booths on the top floor. The members all fat-cat big suits, out of shape and repulsive, laughing like hyenas next to a group of beautiful women who only see them as ATMs. I tell Rose the woman we are looking for is named “The Siren.” The song continues – “In the land of the blind, be a king, a king, a king.” In the midst of the crowd I see a stunning woman, her gown a cascade of midnight blue wrapped in elegance. She has dark red hair and a large diamond necklace. 

A man turns once he catches a whiff of her perfume – Jasmine and danger. And she walks past him towards another intimating, more serious minded male figure who signals to her from the top of a spiral staircase to follow him into an employees only room. I ask the Bartender who she is. “That’s Big Jaques’ wife…” He raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Dream on, college boy.” They exit the main floor and retire to the back rooms.  I tell Rose to stay put. I approach the door and when no one is staring at me I go to see it’s unlocked. I swiftly enter it and close the door behind me, the music now becoming dull reverberations of throbbing bass. I’m in a narrow dark hallway. The light ever so red-dim and I can barely make out what’s in front of me. I hear a couple laughing. I follow said laughter to find the woman and the man, who I assume is Jaques intimate with one another in an office. He’s taking her from behind. I look away until I feel fingers tracing the hairs on the back of my neck. I jump and scream and turn around only to see It’s Rose.

“What the fuck.” I whisper. 

“Oh shit, he’s really giving it to her.” She says.

Rose accidentally touches shoulders with a shelf of metal cocktail mixers to our right which prompts a loud crashing noise. The couple are alerted. I lift up Rose’s dress and take the gun and barge into the room and point it at them. 

“Don’t move” I say “Are you Jaques?” I ask the man.

“Who wants to know?” he says angrily.

“You’re Mr. Henry’s right hand man.” I say. The couple laughs and the woman looks to me and speaks.

“What’s the matter young man? You want some young tail? I don’t think you can afford me.” Rose emerges from the darkness and comes to my aid.

“You shot Tana Molnar” I point the gun at Jaques. 

“Who told you that?” he says calmly.

“A judge by the name of Brian Sennett.” I say. 

“Yeah too bad about Brian” the woman says, her lipstick smeared. “I heard they found him this morning in his car in a parking garage dead of a heroin overdose.”

“What?” Rose says.

“Corrupt scum.” Says Jaques “You know how many innocent people he put behind bars?”

“You were in the van that day.” I calm myself. “I saw you peel out.”

“Forget what you saw. Go home, you pathetic vigilante wanna-be. You’re no PI. Look at you. Is the safety still on, on that thing.” The couple laughs and I feel and overwhelming sense of embarrassment realizing it is. Rose takes the gun from me and fires a shot into the couch to which prompts the two of them to jump back in fear.

“Know this.” Rose says “We know about Dream Rabbit and we intend to see you exposed. Sennett was just the beginning. We have a whole book filled with client list and you’re all going down for Tana’s murder.”

“You know why she was killed, don’t you?” The Siren chimes in.

“The Outer Rim” I say.

“Well you might not be a firearms expert, but you’ve done your research,”Jaques says. “I’m impressed”

“The Outer Rim can only be entered via Mr. Henry’s portal” says The Siren “Those that go, usually don’t come back. Tana was an anomaly.”

“Who would want to leave such a place?” says Jaques. 

“You can’t murder people who don’t wanna be used as play things and toys.” I say. 

“Says who?” Jacques grins.

He attempts to grab the gun from Rose and when he does it goes off unexpectedly and shoots The Siren in the face, where she drops like a brick to her knees and falls backwards hitting her head on the desk as she falls. I jump on Jaques and Rose as we all struggle for the gun. Another shot hits the ceiling and another shot hits a sprinkler which prompts water to fill the room. I strangle Jaques and begin wailing on him. Rose drops the gun and runs out a back door exiting into a gray alleyway. I continue to wail on Jaques with my fist until he goes unconscious. Outside I can hear people in the club screaming from the gunshots and alarm system. I look at The Siren whose eyes are wide open, an entry wound and her forehead and a bloody gash stemming from behind. I straighten my tie, my hair a wet mop, and run after Rose and as we round the corner I see drenched club patrons running out the front doors in confusion. We grab a cab and when it pulls off I take rose and kiss her harder than I ever have before.

I get a voicemail from my mother when I get back to the motel. I play it back. her voice muffled and distorted: “Vincent, it’s mom. How’s your internship going? Come home soon please. I’ve cooked your favorite meal. Won’t you have dinner with me for once?” I ignore it and text her back that I’m busy and I’ll see her soon. Rose makes me coffee and that night we have sex again. I’m lying on my back while she rides me, her petite hands pushing against the wall to support herself. Afterwards we share a cigarette and lie together under the sheets watching an older B-movie called Carnival of Souls. In the film, a church organ player is involved in a car accident that she survives and subsequently moves to Utah to start anew. As she begins a new life for herself she’s drawn to a mysterious carnival on the outskirts of town. The carnival is haunted by dead Ghouls. Turns out she never actually survived the crash. The Ghouls were calling home to her from the afterlife and the whole movie took place in a sort of purgatory.

“Wasn’t tonight…. Thrilling.” Rose takes a drag from her smoke.

“Are you talking about the sex or what happened at Pleasure Point?” I say.

“My adrenaline is still kicking.”

“We dropped the gun.” I remark.

“It’s unregistered. I got it from a guy at the club. It won’t come back to us.”

“We have to change motels.” I say. “I’m not sure I feel safe here anymore.” 

“Okay.” She sighs “I could use a change of scenery.”

That night I have a dream about Tana. She’s alone at a bus stop dressed in her pageant gown and it’s snowing. It’s cold and she’s surrounded by endless white. Her phone is out of service so she crosses the street and goes to a nearby motel, only no one is watching the front desk. The place is abandoned, the phone receiver left off the hook. She exits the front office and starts walking past the motel room doors. The final one, room sixteen, seems to have been left open by a crack. She slowly creaks the door open and when she does she sees two bodies under the covers of the bed, the TV still going only it’s endless late night static in an otherwise black room. She approaches the bed and when she does she goes to pull back the cover. A single tear drop runs down her face. It’s Victoria and John Molnar. Next to them is a bottle of barbiturates that is empty and a note that reads.

“WE ARE COMING TO BE WITH YOU TANA.”

A man’s somber, deep chilling voice calls her name from the door where she promptly turns around, her face all wet and glistening. The dream ends.

 

 

Part Three

 

I figured I’d rent a motel room to set up shop. The place is called “The Blue Moon.” It sits on the fringes of town and it goes for about seventy a night. I park my ford focus and am greeted to its neon sign stuttering against the backdrop of a black sky. I grab the tarnished keys from the clerk, a haggard man in his fifties with bloodshot eyes and when I open the door to room thirteen I’m met with the smell of mildew and weed. I survey the room. There is a single bed with a lumpy mattress and a desk and a small bathroom with a shower without hot water. This is where people came to die, where the downtrodden let their hair down, where degeneracy festered. I’m told by the clerk that the police circle the place constantly looking to crack down on drug transactions. I rest Tana’s black book on the desk, lock the door and go to rest on the bed. My first thoughts traced back to childhood memories. When I was young I remember being at a similar motel with my father. I mustn’t have been over the age of four. We had rented out the motel room for a weekend trip where he promised he’d take me to a new theme park that had had its grand opening no more than five miles down the road. Instead he left me at the motel and went to get drunk at a nearby dive bar where he lost track of time. I remember the room being blisteringly cold and I wasn’t tall enough to change the room temperature thermometer. At midnight, cutting through the silence, I heard a high pitched cry come from the neighboring room. I stepped outside the door and when I did I saw a woman in her early fifties, skinny and all marked up with red scratches, frantically trying to escape an intimidating black man who had stripped her naked and given her a black eye. He shut the door behind her and left her to fend for herself in the wintery dead of night. When she finally noticed me standing there, she gawked at me with this dead vacant expression that made me turn rigid in fear. And without saying anything, she lifelessly crossed the empty freeway in the full nude and disappeared hopelessly into the thick woods that loomed from across the motel. My father came back in the morning and took me upon the knee and apologized. I said nothing about what I had seen. We went to the park the next day, but all the time I was joyless as I couldn’t forget the woman, hoping she had found shelter from the cold. Whenever I pass said woods in my car, I turn my head to look for her, as if she might emerge, clothed and smiling. But upon reflection, I felt that whatever fate fell upon that woman, it wasn’t one of pity and she more than likely died in those woods that night from hypothermia.

I fantasized about Tana in the middle of the night and it occurred to me I’d never done so before until I started investigating her life as Night Nocturne. I never really thought about her in such a way before. My motel room was dingy and oppressive so I lit a cigarette not caring if the staff would charge me for a smoking fee. I could hear a couple fighting next door—something about not having enough money to spend the week. I tried to drown out their screams by increasing the volume on my TV and turning on the bathroom fan. I began looking through Tana’s black book. There were names that meant nothing to me and others that blew my hair back. I tried to imagine her decked out in lingerie, the innocent school girl with a congenial personality wearing a black G-String and bow trim ruffle suspenders. The ass of an angel. The Ass of an Angel. The Ass of an angel. An ass I’d never get to witness as it was now buried six feet under… I clear my mind of said thoughts and when I do I feel more lucid and focused, the detailed exploits of her call girl encounters becoming major distractions. 

A night goes by and a dark shadow is casted over me as I pour myself a whisky and light up a smoke, trying to connect the dots between Tanas hostess job and how she got wrapped up in online chat rooms. They seemed to be at odds with one another. It’s eleven at night. The couple is still fighting. I go to shut the window and when I do the phone rings. Front desk. My card has declined and they want to know if I can pay cash. I grab my things, but before I can exit the room the table phone rings again. I slow my pace and cautiously approach it, putting the receiver to my ear with reluctance. A woman is singing in a deep soothing voice “Kick the chair right down from under me… Leave me hanging alone in misery…”

I know the song. It’s Rose.

 “What’s up? I say.

 “What did you think of last night?”

 “I want more.”

 “You’ll get it, but now is not the time.” Rose tells me she’s been fired without justification and she’s scared to leave her apartment. I tell her she’s being paranoid. No one saw us go home together, did they? I quickly end the conversation and tell her to come over because I’m starting to feel a little paranoid myself. When she arrives she’s dressed in all black, in fishnet stockings sporting an eighties post-punk look. 

Rose tells me about a basement party in a small church where a goth band is playing. I consider it a distraction, but it’s Friday night and getting away from Tana’s black book for a few hours might do me some good. We speed down I-95 and she lights her cigarette from her car lighter and cracks the window ever so slightly to allow the smoke to escape. The rain outside taps insistently on the windshield and ahead of me the asphalt’s yellow lines blurring indicate to me she’s going over the limit. From her radio, the vocalist mumbles “Like a flash of light, in an endless night, life is trapped between two black entities. Cause when you trust someone, Illusion has begun, no way to prepare, Impending despair.”

“You wanna slow down?” I say calmly “What’s the rush?” 

“How to tell me you drive like a bitch without telling me you drive like a bitch.” She says “I’m doing like ten over.” 

We get to the church and outside on the front steps are a bunch of scene kids tapping their feet on the pavement from the music coming inside. I enter the door and pass a front that holds holy water for baptism. The clerestory windows pierce the nave’s upper walls. We pass the altar where the crucifiction is held and go into a back room with a spiral staircase leading down, the music growing louder now and I wonder to myself how such a metal band managed to infiltrate a place of worship such as this. Inside, large tables have been set up for drinks and a crowd of people gather around a band who seem to have their faces painted in an attempt to mimic something demonic. I take a seat at the bar and watch. Rose sits next to me. 

“What a bunch.” I say flatly. 

“You’re no fun, Vincent.” 

“Someone is going to take the fall for this. This is not what I’d call Christian music.”

 Just then the band stops playing. The music cuts off like a buzz saw. The lead singer speaks into the microphone.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” He says “We wanna take a moment to honor the fallen.”

 Oh no, I think to myself. He continues. “Tana Molnar was a sister to us all. She didn’t just wear the crown. She wore her empathy, compassion and resilience on her sleeve as well.”

The crowd goes quieter. He continues “She reminded us that beauty isn’t skin deep. It’s the light that shines from within.”

If they only knew, I think to myself. “This one is called ‘Midnight Queen’” The band starts jamming horrible noises and I can’t take it anymore so I tell Rose I’m going out for a smoke. Outside I bum a smoke from one of the kids and when I take a seat on the front steps I notice a man from across the way staring at me from across the street, his face shrouded in darkness. The kids run up to me and give me an envelope.

 “That guy across the street gave it to us.” One says “It’s for you.” I rip the envelope seal and when I do a note falls out, the paper aged and brittle. It bore nothing other than the words

 “Your curiosity dances on the precipice of danger. Give up your inquiries now or forever be a marked target. Consider this your final warning.”

 When I lift my head the mysterious stranger is gone and the kids look at me with concern. I crumble up the paper and throw it into a nearby trash can. Fear has now left my body.

After seeing the band Rose drops me back off at the motel. I offer her to come in and she does, but she is taken back by the sheer clutter on display. We order food from a nearby Chinese restaurant and she sits edgerly next to my as my desk looking at all my case files on Tana. I show her one of the names in the Tana’s book belong to a county judge named Brian Sennett. 

“Fucking wild.” Exclaims Rose Kay. “Hey, maybe I could see him as one of my clients and try to get some information out of him.”

“I don’t wanna put you in danger” I say rather dismissively of the idea.

“No, I’m having fun. This is fun.” She laughs “I’ve always wanted to tie up a judge. It’s on my bucket list.”

“How would we get him to seek out your services?” I say.

“Vincent! You underestimate me. You really do.” 

“Well how would you?”

 The following night I got a call from her saying they were meeting at a hotel in the inner-city for a dominatrix session. Perfect. It’s dangerous, but I attach a wire to the inside of Rose Kay’s robe. I tell her to tie him up first and once he’s subdued, lock him with handcuffs and start asking questions about Dream Rabbit. I’ll be listening from the next room over. I’ve also set up a hidden surveillance camera in the room so I can see the two of them in case things get out of hand. The session is at ten PM. At the high rise hotel, once again the rain is coming down hard outside. We wait in our room. 

Rose gets a text.

“He messaged me. He’s in the parking lot.” She says.

“Okay, You go into the next room. Don’t worry I’ll be watching and listening from here and if things get out of hand I’ll barge in.”

From the camera’s point of view, I hear a knock at the door and when rose goes to open it, Brian Sennett is standing at the entrance all soaked from the rain. He removes his hat to chaise the rain off of it and Rose welcomes him inside. 

“Hey Daddy.” She says. “You came to play with me.”

“Indeed I did.” He smiles “Look at you. You are beautiful.”

They kiss. Once again I feel a mixture of minor betrayal and jealousy. Was I falling for Rose Kay? I wasn’t sure. All I was sure of was the two of us were making a great team and we were about to get some answers on Dream Rabbit. Sennett puts the 1k donation of the night stand and starts removing his clothes. He urges Rose to do the same, but she tells him to go first. Sennett lays on the bed nude. He’s rather unashamed of his below par genitalia as he lays on the bed, arms stretched. First, Rose binds his feet with rope, then she handcuffs each arm to a post of the bed. He’s not going anywhere now. Then she does it. She smacks him across the face. He screams and gags him with a ball. 

“Now listen to me Mr. Sennett.” Rose says “I know who you are. You’re a judge for the local county who’s put a lot of people behind bars, some of which were victimless crimes. Right now you’re being videotaped” She points to the camera. “We wouldn’t want this footage to get back to the district attorney’s office now, would we?”

He shakes his head terrified. 

“I want to ask you some questions about a girl. You might have heard of her. Goes by the little known name of Tana Molnar…”

He sighs through his nose and tries to get out of the cuffs to no avail. 

“Now…” Rose Kay Says “I’m going to undo your gag. And if you as much as raise your voice above the way I’m speaking now I’ll whip you and torture you and gag you again. Are we clear?”

He nods and she undoes the gag. He gasps for air. Rose leans in close. 

“I wanna know about Dream Rabbit.”

“What do you wanna know?”

“How you came into contact with them..”

“You don’t come into contact with them. They reach out to you.”

“Go on.”

“It’s a sex trafficking ring for members of the elite. Your common civilian will never get an invitation.”

“How was Tana initiated?”

“I don’t know, but she was one of their highest priced commodities. Most of the girls are runaways, some are underage in their teens. They send them all over the US to work in and out of hotels and private brothels. They take their IDs and passports and are held captive never to communicate with the outside world ever again.” 

“Do you know Mr. Henry?”

“I don’t know him personally, but Tana did. She was his most beloved possession.”

“How many foot soldiers are there?”

“About  three hundred active members which doesn’t include the girls. They’re probably watching you right now. These people are more powerful than you could ever imagine. Their goal is to expand across the US and create a dominion, a self governing nation of kidnappers and traffickers that secretly rule over the commonwealth. Your daughters no longer will belong to you. They will become slaves of an illuminati class.”

“We know they’re watching us. They’ve warned us to back down.”

“Then you should take the hint. Solving Tana’s murder won’t get you any closer to bringing down these people. You will never find them.”

“Where is their headquarters based?”

“Somewhere in the heart of Philadelphia. That’s all I know.”

“Last question. Did Tana ever tell you she was worried for her life?”

“Yes, multiple times. She said she wanted out and they wouldn’t let her leave. She threatened to expose the organization and each time she went to an elected official they told her to yield and surrender.” He continues “Who do I think killed her? A man by the name of Jaques Mallick. He’s Mr. Henry’s right hand man. They call hits on girls all the time but usually they stage the deaths to look like overdoses or suicides. With Tana they just shot her right out in broad daylight. It was a warning to everyone. Do not fuck with us.” 

Rose Kay frees Sennett from his shackles. He throws the cuffs on the floor and immediately attacks her. I jump up from my seat and burst into the room. He clawing at her and she’s putting her arms up to defend herself. I tackle him to the ground and put a taser to his neck. He goes stiff and I tell him not to move or I’ll fry him. 

“Where do I find Jaques Mallick?” I ask him.

“He owns this hotel..” 

My stomach drops and when it does I hear a knock at the door. I let Sennett go and when I open the door a member of the hotel staff, a young spanish man in his early thirties, ask that we vacate the premises as soon as possible.