York was certain the stuff was a mixture of red wine and fresh blood.
He pinched his own nose, forcing himself not to pull a face.
“Hey, you!
Yes, you!
The husky!” York turned in confusion at the call.
A hamster was standing on a tall barstool, holding a tiny glass filled with the same red liquid, its beady eyes examining him with interest.
York’s mouth twitched into the stiffest, most forced “friendly” smile he could manage.
“Can I help you?” “You’re new, aren’t you?
I’ve never seen you around before.” The hamster’s tone was assessing, almost smug.
It gave a self-satisfied clap of its tiny paws.
The sharp sound had barely faded when a server in formal attire appeared, carrying a silver tray.
On it sat another glass of that sickening crimson concoction.
“Go on, try it.
It’s Ice Crimson Brew.
Guaranteed to prolong your life.” The hamster’s voice dripped with temptation and a hint of showing off.
York didn’t hesitate.
He picked up the glass.
“Ice Crimson Brew.
Quite a name.” “It’s all sourced from the freshest children’s blood.” The hamster licked its lips.
“Drink up.
I hear a new batch arrived today, there’ll be plenty to go around tonight!” The server slipped away quietly, leaving just York and the hamster.
York glanced around, no one was paying them any attention.
He brought his glass close to the hamster.
“Cheers.” The hamster raised its own glass.
“Chee–” Before it could finish, York’s fingers bent slightly, and the hamster tumbled headfirst into his drink with a soft plop.
York pressed his finger down into the glass, holding it there.
Then, as if nothing were out of the ordinary, he carried the glass upstairs to the second floor.
The second floor resembled a hotel, lined with doors to private rooms.
York walked into the restroom and looked down at the hamster in his glass, now coughing and spluttering as it finally caught its breath.
“Let me ask you something.
Where are the captive children being kept?” “Ne–never!
I’ll never tell you…
glub glub glub~” York pulled his finger back just in time.
“Cough, cough, cough!” The hamster wheezed painfully, having just swallowed more of the Crimson Brew than it ever wanted to.
York stared at it, cold and unyielding.
“I’ll ask you one more time.
Yes or no?” This time, fear crushed whatever defiance the hamster had left.
It let out a shrill, tearful screech: “Yes!
There are!
A batch of kids came in a few days ago, they’re still being kept alive!” “Where are they?” “I don’t know…
glub glub glub~” “I really don’t know!
Only the club’s upper management knows that!” Seeing that the hamster genuinely had no idea where the children were, York clicked his tongue in irritation.
He tipped the glass, hamster and all, into the toilet bowl (commode), his paw hovering over the flush button.
The hamster stared up at him, eyes wide with terror.
“No!
You can’t do this!
Please!
Don’t!
I’m a good mouse!
AHHHHH!!” Whoosh~ York dusted off his paws.
‘Pfft.
A good mouse, my tail!’ He stepped out of the restroom and nearly bumped into a drunken stag.
They exchanged a brief nod as they passed each other.
Then the stag crumpled to the floor.
York dragged him into the restroom and used the stag’s own belt to strap his hooves to the door handle.
Then he turned and left.
He made his way up to the higher floors.
The security here was thinner than he’d expected, almost nonexistent.
No guards.
No patrols.
He was going to shut this whole place down.
Call it payment for those children calling him “big brother.” —— At the very top of the Aurora Club.
Three animals, an antelope, a kangaroo, and a horse, sat around a table.
Before each of them stood a crystal-clear goblet.
From the ceiling hung several translucent tubes, dripping thick red droplets one by one, slow and rhythmic, landing in the glasses with a sickening drip… drip… In the corner of the room sat a large cage.
Inside were three young animals, their arms attached to the very same tubes that supplied fresh blood to the three seated predators.
They lay on the floor, numb and hollow-eyed, too drained even to cry out.
The kangaroo grabbed his glass impatiently, downed the blood in one gulp, and slammed the empty goblet onto the table with a dull thud.
“What’s the holdup?
Why haven’t the new blood provisions arrived yet?” “Patience,” the antelope said calmly, a thick book open in his hooves.
He adjusted his round-framed glasses.
“The police have been sniffing around lately.
It’s only natural that deliveries hit a few snags.” The horse tossed his mane and grumbled, “I’m telling you, we should be using our own people for transport.
Outsiders are too risky!” “Who’s volunteering, then?
You?” The antelope shot the horse a sidelong glance.
The horse fell silent.
Nobody wanted to take on that kind of heat.
The antelope closed his book and set it gently on the table.
“Our superiors at the Sanctuary have been very pleased with our recent work.
They’ve promised to supply us with fresh blood provisions directly from now on.” “Really?!” The horse and kangaroo perked up, their eyes gleaming with excitement.
The kangaroo leaned forward eagerly.
“When will we get our chance to enter the Sanctuary?” The antelope gave a knowing smile.
“Soon enough.” “Before long, the ceremony will commence.
And then, all of us who have partaken in the blood will be granted immortality!” “To the coming feast, cheers!” “Cheers!” At the mention of immortality, their faces twisted into expressions of fanatical zeal.
The horse downed his blood, wiped his mouth with the back of his hoof, and glanced downward.
“By the way, what’s all that racket downstairs?” “Probably just the lower-ranked ones having too much fun.
Pay it no mind.” The antelope dismissed it without a second thought.
Sure enough, the noise below soon faded.
The three predators went back to savoring their drinks.
Suddenly, a knock came at the door.
A respectful voice called from the other side: “Sir, the fresh blood provisions have arrived.” They exchanged glances, smirking.
“Seems they were just running late after all.” The kangaroo couldn’t contain himself.
“Come in!” The door swung open.
A husky stepped inside.
If you looked closely, you could see dark stains of fresh blood smeared across his uniform.
“Where’s the stock?” the kangaroo demanded impatiently.
“Easy, sirs.” York shut the door behind him and turned the lock.
His smile was deeply unsettling.
“You’ll be seeing them very soon.” ————•★•————★ Author Note: Thanks for reading!
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