#bronx.interactions

an uncanny farmhouse with a   ‘  ROOM FOR RENT  ’   sign

“LISTEN—— I know you’re probs looking to upgrade your living conditions, but this is too creepy… even for me and I slept in the clown tent for two weeks when my apartment flooded”, Bronx commented while leaning to the side to almost whisper the words, afraid that someone or something might be listening.

To be honest, he didn’t even know if that was the reason they were visiting this place, but a joke here and there seemed better that to admit plain fright at the sight of what could potentially be a murder house. “Could’ve found ya a place at the apartments y’know?”, he continued with a little chuckle, but even against all voices in his head, he took a couple of steps forward.

“Well, let’s get going then, it’s never too early to get butchered to pieces by a crazy man with a pig head as mask. Let’s take a look around at least”.

“Are you a local? I’ve been hearing a shit tons of stories about a haunted house near the abandoned mill. Is it true that a whole family was axed to death and whatnot?”

They tuned to the other while sipping from their drink. Bronx soon looked back to their phone while scrolling through some article about some haunted places in the area.

end of the road

It’d been weeks since Bronx and Cyrek had their heart-to-heart and left the topics rather unfinished thanks to Mother Nature aka the triplets that decided to explode in sudden agitation as if to break away any other kind of tension that had formed between the gangster and his ex boss. Still, they were in the old truck together yet again as if things were normal, as if things had not changed, as if they had not talked in weeks after the younger one decided to give up on the gang for the time being.

     DEAD END.

The sign was bright red indicating that a cliff or loose rubble could cause problems if didn’t hit the brakes. He had been silent the whole way, not even daring to look to Cy because the oldest knew how to read him like a kindergarten book.

‘She’s not as good at bein’ alone like she makes out. And neither are you’. Bronx still remembered these words every day, specially after the first week or so away from the gang felt like release but soon enough he started to feel like drifting. There had been nothing to keep him in Anchorage aside of the strong friendships and jobs he had found, of course, but still, he couldn’t bring himself to leave, not even after googling bus tickets to the border or plane tickets to somewhere far away. He just could never complete the transaction.    DEAD END.    Ever felt like even the dumbest thing could bring you to tears? Dropping your pen, spilling a glass of water, tripping with the rug at the entrance: silly little things that tip the emotions just enough to trigger something.   He felt like this at seeing the sign. But he held it back bravely and held a sigh back as well.

“Not like I doubt your genius or anything bo— Cy, but… you sure this is the correct road? If this is gonna be our new kissing place I don’t mind much but yeah, being in a vehicle kinda stuck gives me some Valentine’s Day blackout vibes, so if we could pick somewhere else to make out, that’d be peach”.

the lot behind a somber hotel

“I’m starting to think…”, Bronx begun as he looked around the empty lot. There was nothing but thick darkness and the distant barking of dogs. The hotel rose imposing behind them as it casted its shadow over the field. The couple cars at the front indicated that the place was either still running formally or that some shady business was being discussed inside.   “…that the invitation we received from those frat boys at the coffee shop had the wrong location on purpose”, he finished while zipping up his jacket. “So as I see it, we have three options: find the actual party, go find our own fun or get into that hotel and see if it’s like a ghost building or something, like those ghost ships and planes that show up every now and then to some people”, he expressed while balancing on his heels and toes in a forth and back motion. “Aren’t you cold by the way?”

LOCATION: SANTA’S WORKSHOP

“I really can’t decide...”

Bronx was crouching next to the wooden boxes were the lifeless thin plush bodies of several toys laid pathetically. He dug through the fake fur looking for the best options. He had already paid a ticket, so now he REALLY had to pick one; maybe a bear that could match his stolen diadem or maybe a cat? He liked cats; but nah, he could find something better.

Location: Diner

"It's almost Valentine's Day..."

Bronx muttered while carefully painting his nails over the table, the smell of cheap nail polish filled the are around him and a couple of sips to his peanut butter milkshake could give the idea that he didn't give it much importance.

"Let me tell you, sweetheart; if they targeted this place next I wouldn't even be surprised. Many of us work late and even leave with patrons sometimes". Bronx took a sip from his martini — a watered down one. Make up and performance outfit still on; corset and a flowy white shirt underneath were giving Regency debauchery, which a lot of people seemed to be into around here.

a police station on edge during a blizzard

There were three things that had Bronx chewing on his inner cheek anxiously as the cops rushed from side to side with grunts and stress plaguing their faces:

1. The cops themselves, of course. Bronx had had his plenty of runs with the law throughout his life and he was no stranger to the police station and even to most of the cops working there. “Hey, Steve!” “How’s the family, Mr. Shen?” “Did your daughter have that recital already, Karla?” Bronx had become familiar with most of the people there to the point where he would make ( or try to make ) friendly conversation to most with both positive and negative response. Still, there were the triple of bodies in the place for whatever reason and some of them were clearly not fond of the dancers stranded in there with them; which takes us to the second point…

2. Mary Ethel. Anchorage’s very own Mary Magdalene. They were pretty, too pretty, plastic pure, artistically driven ( which led many patrons into the club ) and also played at Cy’s band. Jesus, they were basically anything Bronx had ever wanted to be and more, although the sadness behind their eyes made him wonder if maybe he saw them with rose and green colored lenses sometimes. He could not hate her, not one bit, because she was also a victim of life, of the crudest decisions taken by generations before them. They’re painfully similar and yet, awfully different in their reactions. Bronx hugged himself tighter not knowing if he felt more threatened by their presence or a police station full of angry people.

3. The blizzard. The very reason of why they are trapped here in first place. Emergency services entered and left the building constantly as some people came in to report situations and crimes that had happened in the last minutes. Everything seemed way too important at this point to pay attention to a couple of sad souls at the corner that had been brought in by a cop for some unknown reason and had been long forgotten since; and yet, dirty looks were sent his way every time he stared at the exit for too long.

“Would rather be freezing my ass to death out there rather than spending any more time here”, he mumbled with crossed arms and a glare at the old secretary at the desk that kept looking their way over her spectacles with judging looks. “Oi, Virgin Mary”, he called for his companion, “should we try to reach the door once and for all and risk a possible arrest or wait here until someone actually tells us why we’re here?”.