Black Babylon

Black Babylon

There are some places where few mortals dare to go. It calls out to them. It's almost as if pain and death speaks to their inner being and lures them in like moths to a flame. In an ordinary redbrick warehouse downtown Chicago stands such a flame. Black Babylon. It is unknown how long this place has been standing. But somehow it is infamous. Money is the only thing that thing that will get you in. If you have it, you're in. If you don't you are "greeted by a living cereberus. His name is Larrs. He stands at a massive seven feet tall. Mountains aren't as solidly fortified as Larrs. He would be considered by many to be a freak of nature. His lineage dates back to the hordes of Attila the Hun himself. It had been thought that men of Larrs' stature had all but died out in the evolution of the times. But here he stood. The gatekeeper that no one had the gall to agitate. His word was law. If you wanted safe passage past this dark skinned golem, you played by his rules. In the past there were a few who tested his might. Some tried weapons. Many tried the safety of numbers. In the end there was only Larrs. His scarred, sculpted features inspired fear and demanded respect. He seemed to be the bravest creature in existence. But Larrs knew something that many did not. He knew that in most circles he could take control of the whole operation by strength of arm alone. He had done it several times. Larrs lived for the thrill of battle. Deep beyond his expressionless face he reveled in the joy of conquest. But Larrs knew something. He would never tell. But he knew that his place was at the door. He knew he could crush any man with his bare hands. Being shot only angered him. He had been set on fire and was reported to, for the only known time, crack the slightest of smiles. On the streets among several gangs and criminal circles there were bets on what his Achilles heel was. No one has been able to collect in over 30 years. In fact no one has even witnessed Larrs blood ever leaving his body. Larrs was invincible. Too bad he was the weakest man in the employ of The Unhinged.

Tonight was a normal night at he Black Babylon. The rich clientele felt free to indulge in whatever form of debauchery tickled their fancy. It was, in fact, encouraged. Women, booze, drugs, torture, and even the thrill of murder was allowed if you had the money. As long as no one interfered with the flow of money, a body could do whatever they wanted without reprieve and leave at the end of the night with their lives. High-powered individuals from all over the world frequented the Black Babylon. Kings, queens, senators, mayors, stars, clergymen, all could live out their darkest lusts without worry of ever being caught. Come in and make yourself at home. Eat, drink, and strangle the life out of Mary. It's all welcome here. And when you are done, we'll even clean up after you. Such is the way¦of the Black Babylon. Even the hungriest tabloid reporter knew better than to find themselves within a 50 mile radius of the Black Babylon. It was a haven for the worst of humanity's repressions to be set free. But the real attraction could be found deeper than the VIP rooms where the girls pleasured their customers. It was deeper than the crystal meth labs in the basement. It was even deeper than the snuff film theaters. No, the real attraction was found at the bottom. The copper smell of blood stifled the senses. The sounds of agony and finality gave serial killers nightmares. Only the strongest of sadists sat in the seats around the concrete battlegrounds of The Unhinged.

The Unhinged have never been accused of being human but they will always be called warriors. Night after night they take on all challengers. Night after night they paint they night red. The death toll of the Unhinged has been astronomical. But their performance is awestriking. In their arena below the Black Babylon they don't do battle. They wage war on all life set before them. The arena is a recreated roman coliseum with additional pillars and stone structures to make combat more¦interesting. Some would say that the arena is a place where the gods come to play with us mere mortals. The crowd screams and salivates with bloodlust as they see the challengers step into view. Six large powerfully built men dressed in black leather covered in tattoos. Their leader is wrapped in chains brandishing a barbarian style battle-axe. One of the monster was heavily salivating and cluthing the heads of the opponents that they had beaten earlier that night. The other three were triplets covered in blood, smoking cigarettes and popping pills of PCP. Their earlier match could only be described as an image from the worst level of hell in Dante's Inferno. They were a savage bunch. They came to compete against the Unhinged in order to take over their operation. They came into the Black Babylon and raised quite a ruckus. They disturbed quite a few financial transactions in their demands for the right to face the Unhinged for leadership. It is well known that the only rule in the Black Babylon is don't stop the money. However the six behemoths failed to adhere to the golden rule but were still given their wish. They got to get a chance to meet the Unhinged. The crowd went silent as a large double door was opened. The triplets put out their cigarette and smoothed back their long, blood stained hair. The leader told them to split up and take their positions. They moved swiftly despite their size. One at a time they moved in three to five second rushes from pillar to pillar. Despite their uncouth appearance there was evidence of military training. The leader calmly walked in plain site down the middle of the pillars confident that his men were right along side him. He had taken this walk many times before. It let his enemies know that he wasn't afraid but he wasn't stupid either. He also knew that his men would take out any of the Unhinged before they could make a move. He was confident that he was walking into his destiny. He reached the large double doors and found that no one was there. He laughed.

Good job boys. I knew the Unhanged wasn't worth all the bullshit that followed them.

Actually. Said an unknown voice from behind him. Its not Unhanged my friend, its Unhinged

With the speed of countless battles the leader spun on his heels with a backfist faster than the eye could follow aiming for the voice of that mysteriously found its way behind him. He turned to find that there wasn't anyone there. No one except his men. The man with the skulls was twisted like a piece of taffy from head to toe. One of the triplets just stood there with blood running from his eyes and and unnatural depression in his midsection. Another of the triplets lie strewn about in several pieces, yet no blood spilled. He looked about for his last member but he was nowhere to be found

Marvelous, isn't it? We do good try to make impression.

The terrified giant slowly turned to see the voice that spoke to him. Coming to grips with the reality of the situation he became overcome with madness and desperately swung his axe at the voice once more. Then with a series of gut wrenching pops, he found his body to be useless and in full body agony. He tried to scream but the pain was too great. The only thing that snapped him out of his insanity was the drip drop of blood on his forehead. He looked up a found his lost comrade. He was embedded up to his chest in the ceiling fifty feet above him. Not only that but he had company. Over one hundred people in the same condition as his comrade, some fresh, some decaying.

My friend has quite an extensive collection, does he not? By the way if you are wondering what has happened to you, don't. We have even gotten started with you yet.

Darkness closed on him and the madness overtook him once more. At least this time,¦he could scream.