Haven: Part II
an excerpt

“And you tell your parents… you tell them, like, so what? So what if I am a little rebellious, you should thank your lucky stars I’m not snorting coke off some lesbian’s pasty disease-ridden ass. Girls like me, you don’t see many that haven’t been snatched up by some pimp or even worse- check out that man over there,” Inferno Maverick said, sitting with a very fine young woman. He was now pointing at a not-so-fine looking man with a harem at his sides, “He’s pretty much the go to guy for illicit sex. Know how many fine women he’s got under his belt? Two hundred. How many women do you think, in this city, are good looking? There are a few thousand people, with at least half of them women, and how many of those are under 30, and over the age of 16? How many of those do you think are good looking? I’ll tell you- it’s not much more than 200.”
“That pimp can not have the whole population of beautiful women to himself.”
“At least half. Look at him- you know when they say when women are pregnant, they’re glowing and beautiful? They say that because of the expression of joy they’re supposed to have- they’re not beautiful, they’re just fat. But you only see that glowing look in the most joyful of people, and those are either happily expectant mothers, or men who can expect to get laid whenever they want. That man is probably always no less that 1 kilometer away from a woman willing to have sex with him without question, at any given time- that, my friend, is a man with a very happy schlong.”
“But that’s what the Church of the Conclave is fighting against; I would never stoop to that level.”
“How many women in that group do you think have said that to themselves once or twice in their life? I’m not saying you’re going to end up like that, I’m just saying, thank your lucky stars.”
“And sleeping with you is any better?”
“I’m not a pimp; I’m just a hopeless romantic without a care in the world. He treats women like they’re packed up in dozens at your nearest fast food joint- at least with me, you know you’re going to be treated like fine wine, and furthermore, I’m not going to force it on you. I’m no criminal, either; I’m just looking for some good old fashioned love making, the way my grandma used to make it.”
“…I’m sorry, that last bit completely threw me off.”
“You know, old fashioned, like grandma used to make it. It’s a family restaurant sort of thing- ‘come get your old-fashioned cookies, just like grandma used to make ‘em’. Never heard of that?”
“…Yeah, I get it, but-”
“But I don’t get what the big deal is! Women always complain about never having any self respect. What do you think is the cure for that? Self-help sessions with your local fat chick that’s never tasted the sweet aroma of a supple, throbbing cock? No, that’s all feminist propaganda that keeps the masses entertained, because if everyone knew what the real cure for a lack of self respect was… well, there’s only one easy cure, and that, is a good hard boning from a master of love-making in the flesh.”
“You mean, you.”
“Not necessarily me, but I make a fine substitute in lieu of an organized competition for the ‘master of love-making’. Maybe I’m wrong, I don’t know, but ask around and you’ll know that whether or not I’m the best of the best or not, I’m damn satisfying at the very least.”
“The Church of the Conclave warns about people like you.”
“Me, specifically?”
“No. The temptation of lesser desires.”
“Well I’m hardly a merchant of pestilence and famine; I’m just a horny bastard who goes picking up women at sleazy bars. Your religion gives you an extremely vague vision of temptation and of course, you go seeing it everywhere. The reason for this is that, if you indulged those ‘lesser desires’, their ideal society would be in shambles. Now, you could argue that they were good men who just wanted a good society, but anyone who lies to get people to do what they want doesn’t sound to me like someone I want running my life.”
“But it’s the Gods of Light, the evil ones incarnate, who want us all to live meaningless lives of debauchery, crime, and illicit sex! The Conclave might have it’s problems, but it-”
“Hey now, my best friend is a God of Light.”
“…What?”
“Never heard of him? Ananth, the God of Light,” Inferno said.
“…No, I haven’t heard of him.”
“Well, he’s a well rounded young man, and he’s with the Church of the Council. Er, Creation. Whichever one ran the Gods of Light as a pantheon.”
“Council.”
“Thank you.”
The door to the tavern cracked against the wall. The whole place went silent, with all eyes turning to the one who entered so loudly. And in the doorway stood Ananth, his white hair filtering the dull lights in the tavern.
Smoke filled the room, masking the ceiling completely. There was a counter on the far side of the room, but mostly it was darkness, with wine red walls with a fine wooden trim at chest height, and a mahogany floor that now bore several pools of alcohol, vomit, and some things Ananth didn’t much care to discern.
Ananth’s cloak had been taken away, and he stood in the garb he wore underneath. He had a hard leather strap that covered his chest, yet leaving his stomach exposed, with thin strips of black silk around the shoulders, holding it up. Two white sleeves covered his arms, not connected to any other article of clothing, with black lace holding the ends to a spot under the shoulder, keeping them on. He wore white pants with rough black leather boots and a sort of half-dress that hung from his leather shirt, hanging down and covering only one leg.
Around his neck was a black leather collar, with magnetic currents running through that apparently worked to keep his mind more focused, or at least the fabric went held firmly to his neck would do the same thing. It was studded with silver, giving his whole ensemble a very monochromatic look.
The bar was silent, with only the light surf rock music rolling over the denizens of the dark and dirty hive. Mercenaries, criminals, druggies, and prostitutes… and somewhere in the middle, Ananth knew, Inferno Maverick would be lounging around.
And indeed he was.
“Ah, here he is now!” Inferno exclaimed, pointing to the albino in the doorframe, “See? God of Light, in the flesh.”
“Him?”
“Oh, by the Three Circles…” Ananth muttered, “Not again.”
“Ananth!” Inferno said with a cheerful grin, “Care to meet Rebecca? Lovely damsel, isn’t she?”
“Yes, yes, she’s a fine woman and I suppose you’re very proud of yourself. Or are you in the midst of taking her for yourself?”
“Ananth… are Gods of Light all cum-thirsty, fiendish and vile people who condone illicit sex, drugs and violence?” Inferno asked, “Just to settle a little dispute I’m having with this young lass.”
Ananth looked from Rebecca to Inferno, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You’re seriously getting into a theological debate purely in the hopes of getting laid,” Ananth sighed.
“Pretty much.”
“All right, Rebecca…” Ananth said, putting a foot up onto the table, “Now, I want you to take me seriously, so I’ll show you a thing or two, but only if you promise not to repeat them.”
“Ah… sure,” Rebecca stammered.
“Sweet, the bartender left the fridge unattended again,” Ananth whispered, “Inferno, what do you want?”
“Ooh, a whiskey.”
“…Could I have a gin?” Rebecca asked.
“You’re too young, hon,” Ananth replied.
“Eh? What are you talking about, she is not,” Inferno said. Ananth had already started making small gestures while everyone in the tavern had gone to their business, forgetting about Ananth entirely. Slowly, as Rebecca watched, the fridge behind the counter began to open.
Suddenly, two bottles flew out and zipped into Ananth’s open hands, where they immediately stopped. Ananth passed one to Inferno, and they hit the bottles together, making a satisfying clang.
With a mere thought, Ananth popped off the cap of the bottle. Inferno latched the cap into his eye socket and pried it off, smirking lightly.
“Holy shit!” Rebecca whispered.
“See, what’d I tell you?” Inferno said, “Here’s a true god- none of those bullshit prophecies, he’s completely on the level. Down-to-earth gods are the best kind, aye?”
“So… what do you think, sir?” Rebecca asked, “Is it okay to just go around having sex?”
“No,” Ananth replied.
“Well, if you put some thought into it, it’s okay,” Inferno muttered, “Isn’t that right, old boy?”
“Of course it is, so long as you keep your wits around you,” Ananth said, “Now… I know what it’s like, at your age, believe me. Like everyone else, I had to grow up, and I went through this phase. But, for god’s sake, don’t do anything rash.”
“What do you mean?” Rebecca asked.
“Well, for starts, don’t sleep with this asshole.”
“Hey!”
“Miss Rebecca, you have your whole life ahead of you, and you’re going to make a few mistakes. I whole-heartedly condone that you live life to the fullest, and if it means having hot passionate sex outside of marriage, damn it, go right ahead and find a man who’ll give you a toe-curling orgasm every time. But, make sure that at the very least, you connect with that man. And don’t bullshit me about being righteous, that’s all out the window at that point- you’re here in this bar by your own will, hoping that someone will snap you out of the religious stupor you’re in. And I don’t blame you- a religious upbringing can be so strict, anyone would want just one night of illicit sex or drugs or maybe even violence. You need to meet yourself somewhere in the middle- you’re unhappy with your religion, and that’s fine. Religion is meant to be a blessing, not a burden. Think for yourself, and do what makes you happy. But, for the love of the Gods, don’t go into a bar looking to get yourself picked up. Be honest with yourself, and go find a bad boy like every other insecure woman. At least score a boyfriend, rather than settling for a one-night stand the moment one becomes available,” Ananth said to her.
“…You’re right,” Rebecca whispered, “I have to be honest with myself. I can’t just do what my parents tell me, and I shouldn’t just mindlessly rebel, I need to do this for myself, not for them and not for some stupid prospect of rebellion.”
“That’s my girl. Now, get out of here, and keep your legs closed and your heart open. When the right person comes along, you’ll know.”
“Thank you.”
Inferno watched, mouth agape, as Rebecca stood up and ran out of the tavern. He started spluttering something incoherent, his face mixed with irritation, anger, and confusion.
“What the hell, man?!” Inferno cried.
“Hmm?”
“You blocked my cock!”
“No, I saved your ass.”
“I was just about to get some barely legal poon!”
“Inferno, she was 15.”
“…What?”
“She’s 15.”
“No she’s not, she’s 16.”
“No, she isn’t.”
“She said she was.”
“She was hoping you were going to convince her to sleep with you, so she lied.”
“And how would you know?”
“Well… her parents are waiting outside for her, and asked if I’d seen her. Overprotective parents, you see… told me her age, showed me a picture… hell, that’s why I gave her that advice. Demanding to know where your kid is at all times in a fairly safe part of town is really just very creepy.”
“Huh.”
“Yep, if it weren’t for me, you’d be taken in for statutory rape and branded a convicted child molester.”
“Oh well, at least then it’ll be legally acceptable for me to run up to nine year old girls and tell them I’m a child molester.”
“Yeah, but you’d have to do it every time they talked to you.”
“More’s the giggle, then.”
“Anyway, this isn’t important. Inferno Maverick, I have some news!” Ananth exclaimed.
“I like good news,” Inferno replied.
“It’s not good news.”
“Shit.”
“Well… at the very least, it’s the sort that offers closure. I found Maxx, Inferno… your information was right on the dot.”
“Fantastic…! And?”
“He’s dead.”
Inferno set down his whiskey, staring, shocked, at Ananth as he casually took a sip from his bottle of vodka.
“He’s dead…?” Inferno whispered.
“It’s Lorinthos. I don’t know why, or how, but he took Maxx’s fiancée, and held her hostage. Maxx got it in his head that Lorinthos was always watching him… and the thing is… Lorinthos ordered Maxx to kill me. Maxx thought if Lorinthos didn’t think he was trying hard enough to kill me then… he’d kill Snow. And so, I had to fight back. It was self-defense.”
“God damn it… did you at least get the flute?”
“Rita has it.”
“How do you know?”
“Maxx left me a note as well as a fake flute. Rita gave you the information in the first place, didn’t she?”
“Yeah.”
“So she must have run over there and snatched the flute,” Ananth sighed, “And that’s that.”
“I can’t believe Maxx is dead. He was a good man, for all intents and purposes…”
“I know there was another way, but damn it… I wish I could have had time to think. Oh well… all that’s left is finding Rita, and getting the flute back.”
“Ah, er…”
“…What.”
“That could be a problem.”
“What do you mean, it could be a problem?”
“Rita’s in a coma.”
Ananth just stared at him, his white eyes growing wide.
“You’re kidding,” Ananth whispered.
“I’m serious,” Inferno muttered, turning a plastic cup over in his hand. It was one of those used to hold pop or soda- opaque, plastic, and sort of tacky, “Hey, ever wonder what the three bumps on the cap here are for?” Inferno asked.
“…What?”
“You know, these bumps on the top of the cups they give you for soda. You can push them down but they don’t seem to serve a purpose…”
“Those… those are just for when multiple people order pop. They push down the bumps on the top and that’s how they tell the drinks apart, based on which-”
“That’s the only system?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“That’s stupid, there are only eight combinations.”
Ananth shook his head, blinking a little.
“Okay, that observation was so stupid, and so out of place, I feel dumber just hearing it. Maverick, we have more important things to worry about.”
“No man, this is going to be bothering me all day if I don’t get it sorted out.”
“It’s a plastic cup!”
“Yep. Hold on one second…”
Ananth threw his head back, spluttering something random just as Inferno had done a few minutes ago. Inferno had stood from the table with the cup in hand, and was now strolling over to another table.
Inferno Maverick was an interesting sort. He had dark crimson hair, just like Rita, but his eyes were a bright red, like the color of fire. This is fitting, because Inferno just so happened to be able to create or manipulate fire at will. It’s hard to believe, but it’s true- Inferno Maverick, like Ananth, had a strange sort of power that was, for reasons unknown, unreachable by others. While Inferno only manipulated fire, however, Ananth was able to manipulate a colorless, bodiless force that only manifested as a form of light.
Furthering Inferno’s fascination with things that burned, he wore a trenchcoat, jet black with a few custom additions. Along the riffs of the sleeves and at the very bottom where it nearly swept the floor, a design resembling flames was sewn in, complete with sparks hovering over them. And, there was fireproof fabric sewn into the trenchcoat itself, and it was reinforced by some other fabric underneath that made it almost completely indestructible. In fact, Maverick had kept the coat for 300 years. It was, apparently, very important in some personal way.
Underneath the coat was a net top that exposed his muscular physique, and grey pants with a belt that had a sort of ‘double buckle’- as in, there were two rods that stick into the belt to hold it in place. It made the shape of a wide ‘I’ out of the belt. Also, he wore some steel-toed black leather boots, as was the popular trend in the underworld at the time.
“Hello, boys,” Inferno said to a group of mercenaries sitting at a table.
“Yo,” replied a really very intelligent man with a submachine gun hanging from his neck.
“Gentlemen… what do you think of this?”
Inferno placed the cup on the table in the middle of all the mercenaries. There were 11 of them in all, in fact, and all of them have a few guns. No, not just one or two- they were hiding in their socks, shoes, pants, underpants, shirts, bras, or hanging from a goddamn necklace.
“Soda?” A mercenary replied.
“No man, this is fucking pop,” another interjected.
“It’s fucking soda, shut up.”
“No, soda is the Delgorian term. The Deltion term is motherfucking pop, so shut your ass.”
“We’ll call it a soft drink,” Inferno said.
“A motherfucking soft drink.”
“That works too.”
“No man, the proper term for it is ‘tonic’.”
“Look, it’s a goddamn soft drink, and we’ll leave it at that!” Inferno shouted, “Okay, you see these bumps on the cap here? Guess what they’re for.”
“You know, I’ve always wondered about that…”
“I always thought they were, like, nipples.”
“No, guys,” one of the mercenaries said at last, “It’s when more than one peep orders soda-”
“Pop,” another interrupted.
“No, tonic.”
“Shut up!” The smart one grunted, “When more than one person orders a soft drink or whatever, they push down one of the bumps. That’s how they tell the drinks apart.”
“That’s ridiculous, that only leaves, like, eight different combinations.”
“But what happens if you order more than eight?”
“Gentlemen,” Inferno cut in, “That’s what we’re going to find out. I have here a 20 credit note, and we’re all going to get ourselves a soft drink.”
“Yeah! We’ll show these guys what it means to have an inefficient means of organization!”
“Down with the institution!”
Inferno watched as the mercenaries all rose from their seats, shouting and hollering, hooting and cheering, for some unknown reason. Once they’d all ran past on their way to the counter with the money in hand, Inferno started walking back to sit with Ananth, laughing softly.
“Anyway,” Inferno said, sitting back down next to Ananth, “She was found outside the City Spire. They took her up to the White Room, but they don’t know-”
“Traumatic fever,” Ananth sighed.
“What?”
“Rita’s condition. Something horrible happened in her childhood and whenever she remembers it… it triggers a fever.”
“Shit. So, what’s the cure?”
“Some herbs that only grow in the mountainous region; I can nip up there and be back in half an hour,” Ananth said, “It’s no problem at all.”
“Really? Fantastic.”
“Thank Lorinthos. He’s the one who told me exactly where to find them.”
“And again we have no idea whose side he’s on.”
“So…” Ananth said, “Let’s just go, then?”
“Oh, hold on.”
“…Oh, for the love of the Gods…”
“Yo. Sup, bitch?” One of the mercenaries said, slamming the note down on the table.
“Can I take your order?” Young Sam droned, her hair draping over her eye.
“We’ll have every drink on the menu,” said another mercenary, “At least 9 of them.”
“We only have 8, sir.”
The mercenaries all went silent. They turned over to Inferno, looking awe-struck at him.
“Order a mixed drink?” Inferno called.
“What’s a mixed drink?” The mercenary replied.
“You know, coke mixed with root beer or something like that.”
“That’s right! Bitch, we’ll have all 8 drinks and a coke mixed with root beer!”
The mercenaries started hooting and shouting again in light of their triumph. Sam nodded slowly, going to get the drinks.
Ananth patted Inferno on the forearm, starting to rise from his seat.
“Dude, let’s go,” Ananth whispered.
“They haven’t gotten to sorting them out, yet!”
“It’s not important! In fact, it has got to be the single most unimportant thing I’ve ever heard! Now, let’s go save Rita, get the flute, and-”
“Settle down, we have plenty of time.”
Sam set down each individual drink- all 9 of them.
“All right,” She said, “That’s 9 drinks. 19 credits, please.”
“Here’s 20. Now, how’s about we get these sorted out, eh?” The mercenary hooted.
“Uhm… yeah, I’ll just push down these little nipples they put on the cups, hold on a minute.”
“You know, personally, I thought they were more like clitorises,” Another mercenary said out of nowhere.
“They’re clitorii, you dumb fuck.”
“You guys are crazy, those are clearly nipples.”
“They’re nipples, guys,” Sam said.
“They’re clits.”
“Nipples.”
“Clitorii.”
“Just shut up so I can push the goddamn nipples! By the Three Circles…” Sam growled. She got to the ninth one, and suddenly froze up.
“Er…” she muttered.
“Ha!” One of the mercenaries hollered, “Can’t find your way out of this one, can you, bitch?”
“Wha-?”
“We’re not leaving until these drinks are adequately organized!”
“Yeah!”
“Okay, that does it!” Sam shrieked. She whipped a gun from a holster hanging around her waist, swept all the drinks off the counter, and pointed the gun straight at one of the mercenaries.
“What the shit?”
“I’ve had it with this place! Had it with life! I’m taking myself out, and I’m taking you all with me!”
“Yo, bitch, we got guns.”
“And I’m a bitch on PMS!”
“We’ve reached an impasse.”
“Indeed,” another mercenary responded, “Okay, guys, we’re all very tense…”
“I’m not, I’m in the back,” added another. The leader of the group swung around with the gun hanging from his neck and fired with that same gun, killing the one who’d spoken up.
“What the hell is going on?” Ananth called.
“Everybody freeze!” A voice shouted, echoing through the entire tavern. Two police officers sprung up from their seats, each holding a badge and a gun, “Nobody move!”
“Oh, by the gods…” Ananth muttered, slamming his head onto the desk. Inferno lit a cigarette, crossing a leg over his other.
“It’s the pigs!” The lead mercenary shouted.
“Everyone lower their guns!” The police officer boomed, “Right now! Don’t make us shoot!”
“Hey man, we’re doing this for science!”
“For science!” All the mercenaries shouted in unison.
“Okay, we’re all tense, except for the guy in the back… who is now dead,” said the exceptionally smart mercenary, “Let’s all…”
“Enough!” Sam screamed. She fired, and as soon as she did, so did everyone else, including the officers. Ananth and Inferno were driven to the back of their seats, watching wide eyed as everyone killed themselves. The police, the mercenaries, and Sam all laid dead, the smoke from the guns now converging to meet the rest of the fumes on the ceiling.
“Oh my Gods!” Ananth cried.
“Yep,” Inferno said, now inspecting the plastic cup in his hands, again turning it over and over as if expecting to find a magic picture, “See? If they had a more efficient system, this would never have happened.”