Gothic Rave Club 'H๏ςicσ'

The entrance seemed to be no more than rusty metallic sheets that lead into the basement of an abandoned warehouse. No noise escaped through the doors, but once open, the music attacked the eardrums of the feeble while drawing in the lost souls of the night. The only sign outside the entrance was the name 'Hocico' blow torched onto the metallic sheet doors.

       There was no way to open the entrance, other than waiting for someone to open it from the inside if they chose to leave. The parties were 24/7, and the attendees were hard narcotic users, pushing the limits of their bodies until they collapsed on the ground and are eventually thrown out like garbage to let in a new wave of partiers.
There are no lights inside the basement club, the only illumination is from strobe lights and glow sticks brought in by patrons.

The club is littered with people covered in glow stick residue of many colors. Some wearing Gas masks which expelled purple fog which added to the fog that swept across the floor, making the dirt ground hardly visible. Sometimes patrons run the risk of accidentally stepping on a body hidden in the fog. There is no owner to the club, dealers from around Mexico city supply the club with party favors, from heavy narcotics to booz. The club was formed a couple years back as Gothic ravers found out that this location was the site where the Zetas took captured Mexican Military soldiers, dismembered them, and allowed wolves to feast on their remains, all while being video recorded. The sacrifices were made as tribute to the Saint of Death. This fueled the partiers, most of them wearing torn up mexican military uniforms covered in glowstick residue, fake blood, and sometimes even real blood. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6W2ekFSdEI&feature=youtu.be&t=43s

Combi arrived to the club he practically ran. Once partiers experienced his hard narcotics, they only wanted to have business with his dealers, running other dealers out of the club. A weak looking partier opened the club door with his last breath before half his body collapsed outside, his stomach keeping the doors open. Combi held the door open while fully pushing the body outside "Weakling" he muttered, the metal doors slammed shut.

Combi looked around to find his dealers, all of which were frightened to see their Employer out of his lab. One scrawny dealer walked up to him "Patron, how can i help you?". Combi stared into his eyes, and with a serious tone he said "Just tell everyone to keep their eyes open, i'm having a guest that could possibly be dangerous. If he makes a move, shoot on sight, but don't make yourselves obvious, stick to the shadows." Combi pulled out a key of coke from his back pocket and hungrily snorted it "An officer will be joining us as well, protect him at all costs" The dealer then scudded into the darkness, alerting the other dealers, eight in total, about Combi's request. They were armed only with Glocks.

Combi took advantage of his free time and headed to the center of the dance floor, blending well with the crowd and began to rave as he waited for Lenka to message him to open the entrance to Hocico. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBwPq5YABcs&feature=youtu.be&t=4m3s

--------> Streets of Mexico City

Arriving at the club, Lenka was relieved that he finally got out of the SUV, hopping out, he sent Combi a text notifying him of his arrival, then opening the door for the VIP to step out of the van.

(OOC: Short post is short.)

The ride to this secretive little club of theirs had been interesting to say the least. While he was normally very fond of idle chatter to unnerve others, every now and then it was better to simply sit there quietly examining them. So that is exactly was Almos did on the ride over, visibly relaxed in his seat silently staring at the various guards with cold red eyes. Rarely blinking, he took immense pleasure at the beads of sweat that began to appear on their faces as they grew uncomfortable under his gaze, akin to that of a cat studying a trapped mouse. It was just as fun as it was easy to do at a moment's notice.

Upon reaching their destination, Almos smirked as the young "officer" went so far as to get the door for him. They were clearly nervous around him. Odd considering the rather vicious reputation Mexican cartels held. If a head torn from the shoulders was enough to rattle them this much, perhaps he was wasting his time here after all. If he was, well, they'd done him such a kindness in showing him this wonderful hiding spot. At least he'd have a useful place to leave the bodies. That decision would come later though. As of yet he hadn't even met the mysterious drug dealer that had set all this up. For now, Lorand would withhold his final judgement.

"Well then, you've brought me all the way out here. Where's your boss?"

Unable to stop Raving to the music, Combi's back pocket buzzed. Still dancing, Combi fumbled for his phone, and read the text. He calmly put his phone back into his pocket, reached into his shirt and pulled out his blade. Still dancing, Combi reached over to a fellow raver and lunged the knife into his throat, which then splashed the faces of anyone nearby with thick, dark, warm blood. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aM_8bBM_V_8 "Today i woke to a rain of blood!" He laughed as the blood started filling his mouth.


Ravers who saw the arbitrarily violent act ran for their lives towards the exit. Although some ravers fled, many stayed and enjoyed the act. Especially since it fit the music. The victim's body collapsed and disappeared in the mist below. Combi returned to his music.

Five ravers stepped over each other as they ran up the narrow stairs to the exit of the club, crashing into the doors and scrambling to get on their feet as they ran back into the city. Fifty ravers remained on the dance floor.

A question had popped up from the VIP behind him. Lenka, slightly annoyed by this point, standing next to the large metal door, lifted his leg, and brought the heel of his armored boot down upon said door with a rather large amount of force, creating a loud noise, and hopefully alerting anyone inside he had a pretty damn important reason to have it opened up.

"In here, at ze moment." Looking around the edge of the door, and trying to pry it up with his hands, having no success, he became a tad frustrated, and let it show in his comments.

"Why ze hell can't zey put a goddamn handle on zis door? Do zey expect someone to actually vant to go inside that doesn't practically live there already?" Bringing his boot down upon the door again, he came close to the end of his patience. "Mein Gott! ÖFFNEN SIE DIE VERDAMMTE TÜR BEREITS!" He hoped his high-pitched voice would at least reach someone inside, he'd screamed at the top of his lungs for crying out loud. About at that moment, a huge amount of people apparently running for their lives came tumbling out of the door, running into the street panicked. Whatever Combi had done was apparently crude, but effective. Holding the door open for the VIP with a cheeky grin, he finally worked up the nerve to directly talk to him, also giving a cheap bow.

"Ze Spitzenreiter awaits."

Almos watched as the young officer tried to pry the cellar doors open to no avail.  Evidently the boy was a bit lacking in patience.  The Hungarian couldn't really blame him though, these extremist niche clubs were a bit pretentious in Almos' opinion.  The patrons just tried much too hard to prove how "dark" and "edgy" they were.  While he was quite the fan of debauchery himself, Almos didn't feel the need to forcefully inform others of his kinks.  Discretion had it's place, even with him.  

Before long, those same obnoxious patrons came running out of the cellar screaming bloody murder.  Quirking an eyebrow, Almos waited for them to leave the entrance before heading down the stairs, ignoring the officer's little pleasantries.  Probably for the best really, much more of this blatant pandering and he may have very well gutted the boy where he stood.  Descending into the haze of music, fog and strobe lights, Almos' vampiric vision allowed him to retain awareness of his surroundings.  There were guards present as expected, a few dancers too drugged up to flee the murder scene as well as a few bodies littering the dance floor.  Some of them were simply unconscious, others weren't so lucky.  In the heart of the chaos, a particularly odd man stood tall with fresh blood decorating his face.  He was no average dancer, the body language was off.  The guards were paying too much attention to him and Almos himself.  Hands in his pockets, Almos smirked and decided to kick off their conversation.  

"I'll make it clear right now, I have no interest in working for you.  However, I've heard impressive things about a new drug that only you can provide.  I want it."

Combi's ears perked, "No interest?" He still had the knife clenched in his hand "Well you sure are going to miss out on a lot of fun, no?" he washed the blade clean of blood with his tongue, and proceeded to place it back into the inside of his shirt.

Combi dragged the dead body and several other unconscious figures and made a small mound and sat on it. Some of the bodies could be heard groaning from trying to escape, but were too overwhelmed by the weight of Combi's ass. "So was there anything off the bat you had to offer?" Combi scratched his cheek with his powdery finger nails, snowflake-like batches of cocaine gently fell to the smoke covered floor.

"Services, Goods, or are you here to send me to hell?" His dealers started to become uneasy, their hands creeping towards their weak pistols.

Lenka, after the man had gone through the door, held the door open for his men to enter before dropping in himself. Lightly closing the door, he proceeded down the hallway, taking notice that the building was still relatively packed. Taking up a rather lax position near the entrance, he remembered the makeshift gas mask Combi had given him earlier. Taking off his helmet, he let his hair down, and slipped the mask on, then replacing his helmet with his hair still untied. Breathing easy now, he sighed in pleasure at the difference in air quality. Cocaine-laden air was definitely not his thing. He had missed the entire conversation from putting on his mask, though, and thus was not as alert as the other guards.

The man is a disgusting glutton...no wonder I feel so at home, the vampire thought to himself, watching Combi clean off his knife and create a makeshift throne of meat. There were definitely certain benefits to taking the drug dealer's offer. Wanton violence, depravity and heavy drug use were tempting but their goals just didn't line up. From the looks of it, this dealer had long been driven insane by his own product and simply followed whatever animalistic desires presented themselves. Not a bad way to live but Almos would never have been able to fully immerse himself in such a mindset. While he made no effort to deny desires that appeared before him, he was not a man to seek them out for the sake of seeking them. He had far greater goals in mind. Whereas these people might be satisfied throwing a single country into chaos and warring with other gangs, Almos wanted to turn the world upside down. Almos' war was with none other than God Himself.

"Your famous, deadly drug, I want it. I've already delivered you a rival's head on a silver platter. That should be sufficient," he said, slowly advancing with his hands still in his pockets. He kept his tone light and airy, harmless to a casual observer as he continued to close the distance to about six feet from the drug dealer. His guards were getting antsy already. Perfect. The nervous ones were always the easiest to break. Suddenly, a wide smirk appeared on the vampire's face revealing pronounced fangs. "If you'd prefer, I can just turn your guards inside out and play with you until you want to serve me more than any drug you've ever taken," despite the obvious threat, the casual tone with which it was given delayed the tension rising in the atmosphere. This wasn't some grand declaration of revenge. To the former monk as statement like that was worth no more than a promise to pick up groceries.

Combi's laugh roared "So you come to Mexico, kill a cartel boss, bring his head to me" Combi continued as he pulled out a small case of adrenaline needles from inside his shirt "and you're going to end your long and tiring adventure by killing me if i don't crawl on my knees and give you my pure, unadulterated madness that i have worked so hard to put in a itty bitty vial?" He calmly pulled out three adrenaline needles and stabbed all of them simultaneously into his own heart. He quickly injected the fluid directly into his cardiovascular system, the thin needles were swiftly pulled out. He allowed the empty syringes to fall to the floor. The Via-Gene/ Adrenaline mixture did not have mal-effects on Combi since his body has already accepted the Via-Gene, the power was unadulterated.

Combi's muscles bulged as the traffic of his blood flow had increased dramatically. He grabbed his knife, stabbed it into the cadaver he was just sitting on, for safe keeping. His 6ft 2inch body stood up with extremely heightened senses ,his combat boots crunching the syringes on the floor . He pulled his pistol from his holster, ejected the mag and popped the bullet from the chamber by cocking it without the mag. He then tossed it to one of his dealers for safe keeping, this was a signal for them not to get in the way of what was about to occur.

He turned back at his HVT and raised his powdery clenched fists "Experience the madness for yourself." Combi showed no emotion, the Adrenaline made it almost impossible for Combi to waste any energy on witty remarks or unnecessary emotions. All his body was wired for was punishment.

https://youtu.be/Z_4KEwX5FDw?t=4m

(OOC: Sorry, I thought because I wasn't in the combat that I didn't have to post. Oops.)

Lenka leaned back against the wall as Combi tossed one of his men his pistol. Obviously, he didn't want any of them involved. The boy was totally fine with that, as he didn't exactly want to get his head twisted off at the moment, anyway. Adjusting the bandages over his right eye, he settled in to watch the ensuing fistfight.

(OOC: Short post is short.)

Pale lips slowly curved upwards as the drug dealer disarmed himself. Pristine fangs were revealed as this madman attempted to bolster himself with some sort of drug. A light chuckle escaped Almos' lips in response to Combi's challenge. It was a soft sound at first, a feint trace of amusement that soon grew to a bellowing laugh that caused Lorand's chest to rise and fall. He wasn't just dealing with an over-excited druggie. This powder coated man was an absolute lunatic who had little to no idea what he was dealing with. Brushing his fingers back through his hair, Almos quieted his laughter and reexamined the dealer.

"You do have heart, I'll give you that," he said, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly. Eyes widening a bit, Lorand decided it was time to educate these people a bit as to just what they were dealing with. Supernaturally charged muscles kicked into high gear and sent the vampire into a swift forward momentum. The distance between himself and Combi had only been a few feet to begin with. Even from a standing position, crossing it in a flash was child's play. To the human eye, Almos was not merely moving quickly. He was just...gone. From his starting position, Lorand was bolting to stand just behind Combi's right shoulder, appearing there as if through some form of teleportation. Facing the drug dealer and leaning forward just enough for his breath to be felt on the nape of the user's neck, Almos' smile widened.

"Would you like me to pull open your chest and lick it til it stops beating? Or are you going to give me what I want?" the vampire exclaimed in an unnervingly familiar tone as if he were speaking to a lover.

The battle was over before it could even start, Combi's King was immediately knocked off the chessboard, it seemed. The man before him leaned forward and seemingly disappeared, only to reappear right behind him, breathing down his swollen neck.  

"Are you the Demon that is suppose to send me back to Hell?" Combi asked angrily, slowly raising his hands up in submission, his palms pointed towards his body. "My time has yet to come, Demon."  While his hands were in the air, Combi sprayed his can of Hallucinogen into the Demon's face, which could have not been more than a foot away. His face was easily targeted since his breath could be felt directly over Combi's right shoulder. The thick, sticky, peppery mist quickly escaping the can's nozzle from Combi's right wrist and entered the nostrils  and eyes of its intended target.

Combi's body intentionally crumbled down directly towards the floor, allowing the thick mist to cloak his actions. As he collapsed, he noticed he could easily be confused with the many bodies that surrounded him. To ensure his area was secure, Combi activated the blades in his boots and performed a legsweep. Keeping his torso a couple inches from the ground, Combi's strong arms supported the concentration of momentum his legs used as they swept around to hit anything within 6 feet of his body, his blades worked as an extension. His legs swept around in a horizontal 360 angle, to deeply cut into the legs of those who surrounded him. He made sure to keep his body at a low profile, all his actions were under the thick purple fog. All the movement from Combi's legs caused the fog to rise up, raising the thick concentration of fog from the dirt, bolstering its cloaking capabilities.

As he made himself comfortable with the bodies beside him, he couldn't help but think Does this Demon actually think I would carry the formula with me? Did he expect me to give him the lifeblood of Cartel Thunder Fuck in exchange for the measly head of Mexico's weakest cartel. If I were to die, no one would be able to replicate the formula for another decade.  Combi's stubbornness will be the death of him, this was suppose to be a simple business transaction.

The man in front front of Combi disappeared. Not ran, not sprinted, he just disappeared, only to reappear moments later at Combi's side, who then sprayed him in the face with something, and then disappeared under the fog. Lenka, finding that both of them fought far beyond his level, continued to lean against the wall.

Giving up already? Oh no no no, that was too easy. After the run around that this drug dealer had put him through, Almos wanted to have a bit of fun with him. Skeptical of such an early surrender, Lorand remained on guard as always. He'd worked too hard evading and countering the Vatican to allow himself to fall to some maniacal fool due to carelessness. When the spray can came out, Lorand was at least semi-prepared for it. He'd expected some form of treachery but it had been a long time since anyone had tried using pepper spray on him. That slight hesitation was enough to prevent the vampire from fully capitalizing on his position. Shutting his before the spray could blind him, Almos hopped back a few feet while bringing his left arm up to further cover his face. When the former monk reopened his eyes to track his prey once more, the only sight before him was the stirring of that obnoxious purple mist covering the floor. He had to give the druggie credit, getting out of that situation was an impressive trick. Some of the bodies strewn across the floor still had heart beats which made the task of tracking Combi with his sense of sound more difficult. The oppressive smell of filth and narcotics was stifling his sense of smell as well. Frustrating as it was, the vampire's supernatural senses were terribly inhibited.

"Keep this up and you might just impress me, friend. But how long do you plan on playing this game?" the vampire asked, wiping away the residue from Combi's spray bottle. He'd managed to avoid being blinded entirely, but his eyes had already begun to water. Frowning, Almos returned his hands to his pockets and began circling the dance floor at a casual pace. Red eyes blinked away tears as they scanned the smoke for signs of movement. "I came here to sample some drugs. I couldn't care less about your recipe, your business or your psychosis. I'm giving you the opportunity to improve my vacation or sate my hunger. Choose wisely before I force feed you your lieutenant's skin."

Test out some product? Why the fuck did he not make it more obvious Combi grumbled in his mind Instead of passive aggressively taunting a ,ripped out of his mind fucking mind, almost schizophrenic, drug dealer with the promise of death.

Combi crawled under and over the dead and the living bodies that littered the dirt floor until he was directly behind the demon. He used the heavy bass of the music in the background as cover for his movements, he would move only when the bass was deep enough to rattle the dirt floor. He felt up the pockets in his shirt in hopes of finding a nice bag of coke but couldn't. He searched the collapsed body of a raver and found a plump bag of coke in the raver's clenched fists.

Combi tried to pull the baggy out but the grip was too tight, he couldn't yank it too hard without the entire bag's contents flying everywhere. He sanely decided to chew the baggy out of the victim's hand. He put his lower jaw on the raver's thumb, and his upper teeth reached out over the index and the middle finger. With a strong crunch, Combi had a mouth full of Via-gene contaminated cocaine, and a couple of fingers. Finally, as the song came to an extremely loud climax https://youtu.be/GqNYpi2Y-W0?t=39s , Combi took advantage of the relentless noise to rise up behind the demon, spit out a thick cloud of white pleasure into the air and laughed "Well why didn't ye say you just wanted some product?" two of the three fingers flew at Almos as the cloud of cocaine sped over him. Combi picked up the other half of the torn cocaine baggy, tied up the loose ends of plastic and tossed it to the demon. "Might have a lil blood in it" Combi smiled, dark pieces of meat were clearly seen in between his blood stained teeth.

"I can give you crates of this shit, if you do small itty bitty mortal jobs for me." Combi gestured with his powdery, blood splattered fingers "I'm very excited to see the effects this shit has on Demons." Combi scratched at his chin excitedly "I know there's a slight chance in humans in which the Via-Gene turns them into something like me, but i wonder when i'll come up with something strong enough to affect you." His eyes widened at the thought.

Lenka was currently still leaning up against the door, and the music was so freakin' loud he couldn't hear a thing. Plus, the fog was everywhere, so he had decided just to sit and cross his arms, breathing the filtered air through his mask so he didn't get high.

(OOC: Meh, Short post. Not much that he's going to do/capable of doing at this point.)

Turning on his heel as slight movement occurred in the edge of his peripheral vision, Almos caught the tail end of Combi's dramatic rise from the mist. Whipping his left arm across his body in a horizontal motion, Lorand batted the flying fingers aside and fan away some of the narcotic powder coming his way. He'd just replaced this coat after the incidents in Rome so he had little desire to turn it into a powder coated mess so soon. Without returning his hand to his pocket, the vampire lazily caught the bag of drugs that Combi tossed his way. Turning it over a bit in his hand, the Hungarian considered the chances of it having a noticeable effect. Truthfully, he doubted it would be anything magical but there was no harm in trying. Finally satisfied with his trip here, Almos slipped the bag into his pocket and sent a smirk in Combi's direction.

"I'll give your little drug a try and see how it fares. Should you find yourself in trouble, you have my number. I might be willing to lend you some assistance...depending on the payment," he said with a light shrug. Turning towards the exit to the club, Lorand began making his way out of the oppressive environment. However, the former monk gave pause while passing one of the lower ranking guards stationed near the exit. He gave the minion a once over before glancing back at Combi over his shoulder. "I want this one."

"You don't even have to ask" Combi pointed to the weak, guard "su tiempo ya paso". Combi allowed the demon to take his guard. "Your place in the lake of fire was reserved when you joined me, now it's time to go." The guard broke down in tears "Santa Muerte, por favor no me matas" he fell onto his knees, praying for the Saint Death to spare him while he was whisked away.

Guards and club patrons quickly spread rumors amongst themselves that Combi was himself a Demon. After the showdown, they immediately thought Combi was a supernatural being, how else would he be able to summon a Demon? A small group of patrons began to start and spread a cult devoted to Combi.

With adrenaline still in Combi's system, he continued to dance on the sparsely populated dance floor. He then chuckled as he found out HE was the reason there were hardly any people on the dance floor. His leg sweeps slashed and maimed most of the dancers. His roars of laughter could be heard throughout the club, it might of even had the strength to be heard through the doors. "Lenka, you can return to the lab, i'm going to stay here for a while!" He added as he allowed the music to take a hold of his body.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3UBrFOrn7Fs&feature=youtu.be&t=3m55s

Hearing the command from the Spitzenreiter, Lenka immediately stood up, gave him a salute, then waved his hands to signal his men to block up, and he ran off down the hallway, kicking the door open with a combat boot and jumping out into the fresh air. Throwing off his mask, he was relieved to have finally removed himself from that terrible hellhole known as a "Club."

"Damn, Zat air vas full of crap! I can feel ze lung canzer already!" Lenka leaned over and started coughing for a couple seconds, then straightening up. "Vell, you heard ze Spitzenreiter, ve're returning to ze lab. You can get some sleep there, as vell." Loading themselves into the truck, with Romano at the wheel, they proceeded to leave the area, and head back to the heavenly safehouse known as The Lab.

--------> Combi's Lab.

Smirking darkly, the vampire's left hand shot out to grab the guard by the throat, silencing his complaints as he was swiftly dragged up the stairs and out of the club. This was getting more and more interesting. The rumors regarding this new drug were apparently true and the man responsible for their production was something of a kindred spirit. Perhaps spending a little while in Mexico wouldn't be as boring as he'd originally thought if he could sit back and watch these monsters destroy one another. To think that Mexico was actually considered a Catholic country and yet the Lord and His Church would allow it to fall into such degradation. He might just ask the next Iscariot he met about that one. Then again, perhaps saving the lives of thousands of staring poor civilians was less important to the esteemed Iscariot than hunting down a handful of supernatural muggers in dark alleys. Oh well, there would be plenty more fun to be had in the future. For now, Almos had a meal to finish. Upon exiting the club, the vampire promptly sank his fangs into the guard's neck and drained him of blood before dumping the body into the sewer through a storm drain. Memories flowed through the dead man's blood within Almos, giving him all sorts of wonderful little secrets. Chief among them was the location of the drug lab where the deadly new drug was manufactured. He'd need to test out his sample first, but should it meet his needs, the vampire would know exactly where to get as much as he wanted.

===>EXIT TOPIC

It's been two days now, the adrenaline wore off and Combi's swollen physique cooled down as a result. He wasn't as energetic as he was during his brief meeting with a Demon, a bit of blow would put him right on track. Combi slapped at his ass pockets hoping the Cocaine Fairy had magically put in a good baggy inside. His hopes were immediately extinguished as he frantically slapped at every pocket on his upper and lower body. "God damn it Cocaine Fairy" he muttered. He stopped dancing and began his journey back to the lab. As he was walking to the staircase that lead out of the Club, he noticed he picked up a couple of followers. He turned around at the fifteen ravers in a confused manner "I don't have any on me, go ask one of my dealers, they have the weak shit that you can take. As for me, i like my own stash, it has a higher concentration."

One of the ravers spoke as the leader of the group, he knelt before Combi, the fourteen behind him followed immediately. "We would like to worship you, and spread the word of your greatness. You, who has managed to demonically enchant narcotics that show us the illumination from the lake of fire. We shall spread your enchanting power, by giving you Radicals whom you can use in your army who shall never flee, or Priests who will spread your word, narcotics and influence" the leader stood up "All i need is your blessing"

Combi shrugged "I'm down." he placed his right palm over the leader's face and released the last bit of gas from his canister. "S҉p҉r҉e҉a҉d҉ m҉y҉ w҉o҉r҉d҉"  The man started to hack and wheeze but a large smile spread across his face "You shall not be disappointed!" He was aided by his fellow Cultists.

Combi jogged up the stairs and to his car, speeding off back to his lab.

-----> Combi's Lab