— Posted in The Last of Us, Vampire Noir

The Last of Us [Use me up, Please]

“That was quick.”

“Your text looked intriguing, to say the least.”

It’s Mondo and Red in his office, beneath his club. Red, Red Armstrong, is an Elf who runs a lot of shady stuff on Mars. He’s not Mob, of course, but he has some pretty deep Mob connections.

“Like I texted, they’re all reagent junkies. Some brunettes, a few redheads, but mostly big-tit blondes like yourself.” He openly leers at her as he say that.

“Junkies who pay for their habit with prostitution?”

“Yep. The lowest dredges. The last one was a really good customer of mine. A regular at my shooting gallery on Phillips Street off of Haven Avenue. It’s a reagent den, most of the junkies use reanimation reagent.”

“And while she was high on the green glowing stuff, you used her, I presume?”

Red flashes a broad toothy grin.

“Yes, I did indeed.”

“What was her name?”

“Cathy Long. She used to be a high-end stock broker before she got hooked on glow. I got her stuff over here.”

Mondo follows Red over to a locker in the corner. Inside of the locker is a dead diseased Kaye and a filthy perl necklace. A battered cigarette purse. A junkie’s dirty DIY kit to shoot-up reagent. No underwear or shoes. Nothing else. She doesn’t bother asking him how he got hold of the dead whore’s personal effects.

“How long has it been feeding?”

“Like clockwork for almost two months in the rundown Penn Station area. Sometimes, what’s left of a missing girl shows up in an alley there.”

“Where in the alleys?”

“Always near a manhole for the sewers. The bodies show up late at night, and all of the girls were abducted late at night.”

“Probably feral. Hunts at night. In the dark, given the casual inspection a junkie whore high on glow would give it, it would look human enough to pass when wearing clothes.”

“That’s what I figured also.”

“Anything else that you know would interest me?”

“Well, from the looks of the girl’s faces and from the autopsy results of their brains … whatever it uses to subjugate the girls … ravages their face and brains.”

Mondo cums to this revelation.

“Excellent.”

“I knew you’d crave that last tidbit. Also …”

“Yes?”

“All of the girls have so far have been human. None of them have lasted more than two days. It’s about time for it to feed again.”

Mondo hands Red a fat envelope of money.

“Whatever it is, Red. It’s not just feeding. It’s horny and looking for a suitable mate.”

Red doesn’t bother to chitchat with her about this last deduction of hers. He’s too busy stuffing her cash payment to him into the office safe after he has happily counted it.

When he turns around, a very different looking Mondo faces him. She is filthy and infested—head ice, fleas, and crabs. Geriatric krazed. Klaw. Wearing Cathy’s necklace and Kaye and cigarette purse, looks-ruining rind makeup, and nothing else. The torn left sleeve of the Kaye exposes an arm covered in needle marks, some old and some fresh—nefarious marks that weren’t there a minute ago. Her teeth are so filthy they look rotten. Long dirty finger and toe nails. A sour body odor and equally foul smelling breath. Her white skin is so dirty in places that it is black. It’s her baglady “gimmick”. She’s placed her own personal effects in the locker.

Upon seeing her, Red gets hard. Before he can ask, she gives him her permission. They are second cousins [once removed]—related by Embrace, not birth, so it’s not incest.

“Before I leave I’ll get high on what’s left in Cathy’s kit to really look the part of a completely-spent drunken junkie whore. You have my permission to use me to your heart content after I get stoned out of my mind.”

“Thanks, you’re a real sweet Georgia peach.”

An hour later, an inebriated Mondo exits Red’s club via the back alley door and heads for the Penn Station area. Once she arrives on the scene, she doesn’t have to wait long. While working a corner along with the other working girls, she notices that she’s being watched from an alley by a figure cloaked in darkness.

“Who’s that?” Mondo asks one of the prostitutes as she points at the mysterious figure.

“That’s the real creepy bitch. But. She pays well.”

“What’s her type?”

“She prefers blondes, when she can get one. She’d love you.”

“Thanks.”

Mondo steps off the corner and walks over to the woman in the alley.

“Need a date, sweetie?”

The “woman” says nothing. It shows the girl its money and gestures for them to go deeper into the alley, away from any prying eyes. Mondo complies. The thing is wearing a dead diseased Kaye, is filthy and smelly, and has a hideous parody of a woman’s face. They stop next to an open manhole, the cover has been shoved aside.

Money is exchanged. Mondo shoves the money into the cigarette purse clipped to the waistband of her tattered skirt. Then they kiss. The thing is a good kisser. It’s some variety of Parasite, but, unlike Mrs. Peel, it’s completely base and feral. Only passing for a person when hunting.

Simultaneously, its tongue goes killer and begins feeding voraciously, and its eyes glow blue. It drags Mondo’s limp body down the open manhole, never ceasing to feed upon the girl during her abduction.