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Here's another short story that follows Dr. Jones in Taxtin County.
I decided to break it up into four, more digestible parts, since it's a total word count of 5870.
Contains scenes of violence and strong language. Not for sensitive viewers.
Part 3 of 4
It was exactly five days ago when Dr. Jones received the call. A shaky voice on the other end of the line had reached out to him.
“Is this Dr. Jones?”
“Yes.”
“Please doctor. We need your help. The entire town has gone crazy.”
‘He’s a brave young man,’ Dr. Jones thought.
He made his way toward Anthony and the sous-chef. As he approached, his eyes were barely visible behind the cowboy hat.
“Well look at what we have here,” hissed the sous-chef, “Another kitchen aid.”
“Go get me some carrots and potatoes. Our customers are hungry and need to eat,” he said, then spat on the floor in disdain at the sight of another honest human.
Dr. Jones made his way toward the walk-in freezer. En route, he passed by Anthony, then whispered.
“I’m here, Anthony,” just as he’d told him he would over the phone.
Anthony paused, then quickly glanced over at the doctor. A flash of relief crossed his face.
“Don’t stop, carry on.”
Anthony looked back down, then tried to scrub at the dishes with dirty, foul-smelling water.
When Dr. Jones reached the freezer, limbs and bodies lay scattered amongst mostly rotting fruit and vegetables. He picked some carrots and potatoes, then headed back out.
As Dr. Jones dropped the food by the sous-chef, he asked if there was anything else.
“No. Now get out of my sight!”
He turned and walked toward the chef working on cutting a piece of meat off an upper leg.
“Where’s that bitch who asked for a steak!”
The lady in the red dress approached, before shakily responding.
“Here chef.”
As the chef cut a sliver of the meat off to taste, Dr. Jones pulled his ‘Ghost Gun’ from his back, then carefully cocked it.
“This is the steak of the day,” said the chef as he chewed on the sliver.
“Tell your customer it will be ready in -“
Two clicks ensued, followed by light purple plumes of smoke. The first one aimed straight between his shoulder blades, with the second aimed at the back of his head. The ‘Ghost Gun’ hardly made a sound but obliterated the Keeper.
‘One down.’
“You have to carry on working,” Dr. Jones said to the chef before quickly moving away, holding his index finger up to his lips as he passed by the lady in red.
The chef, slowly coming back to his senses, spat out whatever he could. His stomach churned and he started vomiting out a mixture of black saliva, with bits of food in-between.
The sous-chef looked suspiciously toward him.
“What’s going on over there?”
The chef turned back to the butcher’s block, closed his eyes, and managed to respond quickly.
“How far is my broth?”
The sous-chef looked on for a second, then continued his work.
“I’m done searing the meat. We’ll be ready in 30 minutes chef.”
When the chef opened his eyes again, the bits of human meat laying in front of him made him vomit again. He ensured his back remained towards the sous-chef and tried to keep the sounds down to a minimum.
Dr. Jones had made his way into the entertainment hall again, scanning to see where the other Keeper was. He spotted her, sitting at a table where they were playing cards. One of the men willingly placed his hand out flat on the table, as another took to it with a cleaver, chopping his fingers clean off.
A scream ensued, followed by laughter all around, eventually causing the fingerless man to laugh hysterically, as he held up his fingerless hand, with only a thumb to wiggle around.
‘There’s no way I can get to her now,’ Dr. Jones thought.
The key was getting rid of the Keepers as stealthily as possible. If Dr. Jones had to move against her here, there will be far too many observers and he’ll most certainly be overpowered.
‘There must be one or two more somewhere in this mansion of horrors.’
As he reached the exit, the doctor pulled a pouch from his pocket, gathered some of the shimmering white dust, then recited a hymn.
“Delay the thoughts of death and greed. Delay the hunger, before you feed.”
He threw the dust into the air, then headed for the stairwell.
As he made his way up the second flight, a woman came rushing down, bloodied and screaming. She was clearly delirious, not even noticing the doctor on her way down.
‘Time to see what hell is being unleashed up here.’
He passed by several rooms. These were a mixture of bathrooms, studies, and sleeping quarters. They were all empty, and the only sounds about came from what appeared to be the main room at the end of the hall. He occasionally heard a man screaming, with sounds of heavy and light items crashing about.
When the doctor reached the door, he slowly opened it up.
Suddenly, a knife came flying through the air. He managed to angle slightly to the side, as the knife whizzed but an inch past his head.
There was a man tied to a bedpost, with a naked woman clearly whipping him. Two other men stood by her side and the trio looked quizzically at him.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, stepping forward.
‘You’re the third Keeper.’
“Get out!” she shouted, as she grabbed at a nearby chair, flinging it at lightning speed towards him.
The doctor dived into a forward roll and the chair smashed into pieces against the doorframe.
He was up on his feet in a flash, as one of the men ran unnaturally fast toward him. As the man grabbed at Dr. Jones, he smashed a vial into his face, causing the attacker to scream and scratch at his skin.
A dark shadow emerged from his mouth, being sucked into the fading, orange smoke produced.
The woman was close enough for him to hit her with the ‘Ghost Gun’.
In one smooth motion, he pulled the gun from his back and cocked it. Dr. Jones shot it at her chest, then right between her eyes.
She started laughing at him, as the gun had no effect.
‘Shit! The Keeper jumped.’
The powder that had been loaded into the ‘Ghost Gun’ was highly effective against Keepers but completely useless against Stravers.
The demons had switched hosts, and since they were only able to jump to another within eyesight, he knew it had to have been the other man left in the room.
Dr. Jones grabbed at another vile in his jacket, however, the Strava flung a drawer toward him. He managed to get his arms up in defense, but the impact sent him reeling back as he crashed against the bed.
The Keeper was making a dash for the door. Still dizzied, Dr. Jones pulled his revolvers out, sending a flurry of bullets aimed at the Keepers’ legs. He had no intention of killing the host, but the man may have to be permanently crippled.
As the Keeper reached the door, his legs gave way and he stumbled to the ground.
The Strava was already rapidly approaching, reaching out to grab him by the throat.
Dr. Jones knew he only had one bullet left in the chamber, which he used to shoot the attacker’s elbow, causing the front arm to flop down, dangling in the air. The doctor had already reached for another vial, which he splashed into the face of the Strava, causing the limp body to collapse on top of him.
He drew a deep breath, then pushed the woman off. The other man who’d been possessed by another Strava earlier started coming around.
“What? Where am I?”
Dr. Jones walked straight past him and headed for the Keeper, attempting to crawl down the hallway. When he saw the doctor approaching, he tried speeding up, shouting all sorts of profanities at him.
“You will die, you pig!”
“You’re just a worthless piece of shit!”
With two shots of the ‘Ghost Gun’, the body went still.
The doctor proceeded to apply a thick paste to the bullet wounds, causing the blood to coagulate.
“You’re going to be in tremendous pain for a while, but you’ll live,” he whispered as the man started regaining consciousness.
Dr. Jones reloaded his revolvers, as he headed out, back towards the entertainment hall. Luckily, the bunch had become so rowdy due to the lack of food flowing in, that the gunshots went unnoticed.
