by Antjuan D.M. Briggs

Created on: February 08, 2010

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

• 1
• 2
• 3
• Next Page >>