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The Seven Rooms

_ Of_

_ Hadese Manor_

By

Argo D.D.

Thank god you're here.

You haven't run from my ghastly figure, so I can tell you are a brave soul. Yes, you want to know. It's been so long. I've never gotten to tell of the Gangster King.

Don't you believe me?

You think this confinement has made me mad? Let me tell you, my friend: mad men know nothing. Please stay and let me tell you who--and what--he is.

It was not more than two years after the Great War, though I can't remember exactly when. The hours in my convertible passed seamlessly as I drove passed the familiar western plains and into the mysterious wetness of the southern bayous. My car jolted severely as I navigated through the gravel back-roads of the south. The entire journey, I kept my hood down, exposing my fur to the brisk air, keeping it from boiling over. I'd never been to the Hadese Manor, but I knew every room. I'd never met the Gangster King, but I knew him.

In my thirty-one years, I'd seen plenty blood. There was plenty that I had to do so that my family was the only one operating on the Rio Grande. Plus, my father was put down in front of me the year before. But still, nothing could prepare me for this. I turned the plan over in my head again and again, the images flashed through my mind like celluloid. It was so clear: seven pieces of a dagger in seven different rooms, placed there by Torra, my squeeze.

Could a mad man have made an old squeeze hid seven pieces of a specially crafted dagger in seven different rooms of the target's own house? Your wonder is enough an answer. The dagger was made of gold and designed especially to be taken apart into seven separate parts, all of which could be smuggled in and reassembled easily. Two halves of the blade masterly designed to slip back into one; two halves of the handle that could steady the blade; and three bolts to hold them all together. They could search every crevice of me and they'd find nothing. The instrument of their doom was already in the walls of their own turf, waiting for me. Not until I got Torra's telegram did I accept the Gangster King's invitation.

"They are all planted. See at the bar in the orange room. -Love, Torra"

I replied to my host immediately. I would be attending the notorious Gangster King's gathering of the greatest bosses in the nation. Once Torra lead me to each place she concealed the them(I don't care to think who she got them in the house) I'd ease my way to the Gangster King's close side and, when he's the most expecting of my friendship, I'd plug the dagger into his throat. Through his blood, I could see mural of the face of my dead father. I know it was the tentacles of this Gangster King that smothered him to death.

But even after reviewing the plot a thousand times for eleven hours, my fur stood on edge as Hadese Manor finally came into sight. My ears stood up like spades and my snout twitched at the dank smell of sentiment. In the middle of this Louisiana bayou was this gothic house. Its walls were of pure gray stone and its towers leaned toward me. What I found to be most unsettling was its absence of windows. Not one. It certainly didn't look like a house from the antebellum south, except for the Greek pillars lining its front. Still, I kept my composure. As the black clouds of a violent storm were finally gaining on me, I pulled up to the coble drive way with ease. The red crescent moon hung over the house.

As I pulled up to the front of the manor, I was stuck by the absence of cars or any sign of life. It dawned on me that my worse fear was coming true. I had been lured out here to be killed in the open. I reached for revolver. My nose searched for the slightest scent of an intruder. But there was nothing, except for the ever present stink of barren swamp. I looked up the entrance saw plant pots beside the door. The oil lanterns at the door's side were burning. Someone was home. I stuck the revolver under my coat and proceeded up the steps. I plopped the gun into the pot, within reaching distance, and I tapped the door. If anyone was going to pull something, my arm was close.

There was a pause. I knocked again and I could hear an echo on the other side. For a moment I wondered if I was at the right place, but I knew that I couldn't have made a wrong turn.

There was a noise, a kind of jostling.

I jerked my paw to the pot, my eyes tore across the air looking for where it was coming from. But all I saw were the trees as they bended with the approaching storm. I leaned down toward my gun when suddenly the door shook. The door snapped open, revealing the darkness inside as well as the blackest eyes I had ever seen. They didn't even glisten as they moved into the door's lantern light. Then a grinning muzzle materialized.

"You're Lil' Czar aren't you?" the muzzle said to me. It was then that I realized that it was a wolf. He towered over me at by at least a foot. He wore a dark suit with odd strips of red running down it. His voice was forceful and smooth. I knew that this was my man, the one Torra told me about.

"The name is Calmonte Lighthorn," he said as he held out his large paw. "Please come in."

I hesitated but forced myself forward. I took his paw, which held onto me longer than I liked. "It's great to finally meet you," he exclaimed in what sounded like a Chicagoan accent. I nodded and made a quick sweep of the room. It was very dark and smelled of flat, moist stone. However, there was something that was as clear as day: a clock made entirely of silver that shinned at the slightest ray of light from the lantern outside. It was five feet in diameter and had etched into it Roman numerals for the hours and the long hands were about to strike...

BRING NAH NAH NAH!!!!

My ears pierced at the sound of its chime, nine of them. My body contorted and my canines grinded. It was horrid, something I couldn't describe, except that it sounded like distorted children snickering.

"Ha," shouted Lighthorn as he slapped my back. "Yea, it's a real rigger. No matter where you are in the house, you can hear it." Suddenly, I was grabbed by two thugs. That hustled my over to a corner. I couldn't make out their features, only that they were also big wolfs with faces as blank as manikins. "Alright," Lighthorn sounded as they held me in place. "Let me check you out. First, your hat and coat."

I complied and he went through every pocket and hole. I resisted the urge to smirk. When he was done, he threw them on the ground and held up his paws. "Okay, now for the fun part." His paws went through my body, padding every inch and swerving around my waist; he seemed to be enjoying it. He eyed me up and down. "You're an interesting looking critter," he said as he he continued to explore me. "What breed are you?"

"My father was a Siberian Husky," I replied." From Russia. My mother was a Coyote. A western girl."

Lighthorn's grin widened. "So...dirth meets dirth."

I gritted my knuckles.

"Nothing personal," he waived. "You're parents produced something very...interesting."

"You know," I huffed. "I figured a big shot liked you'd get one of your thugs to pat me down."

"No," he chuckled. "I prefer to do it myself. You'll see I like to get intimate with guests."

"Which guests?"

"They're around. I'll take you to them."

"I'm flattered," I said without emotion, "that I am worth taking your attention from the rest of them."

Lighthorn leered. "You'll also find, Lil Czar, how I can be in a number of places at once."

The thug behind me closed the door and another lit a candle, handing it to Lighthorn, which barely illuminated his face. He waved me to follow. After going for about seven feet, Lighthorn pressed his hand against my chest. "Watch your step."

"Okay."

"Really, it's quite a descent." Then, as he continued forward, he looked like he was sinking. "Step down," he ordered. "Beware. There're no railings."

"Don't you have any electric lighting?"

"No," Lighthorn scowled. "It'd ruin the house's integrity."

"You have interesting taste."

His smile returned. "It's not just me who appreciates the bizarre."

I scraped my foot across the floor until I found the ledge of the first step, and we began our descent, the two thugs following from behind. Lighthorn's candle revealed nothing. I had to make mental notes on the length of each step to prevent myself from tumbling over. I didn't have the nerve to count each step. All I could see was...him.

My heart raced and my chest burned the more I looked at him as we continued down the stairway. This was certainly him, no question. His scent gave him away, with all its contamination, heat, and musk. This was the Gangster King.

Time stood still in the stairwell. It was only until I noticed a slight change in the scent did the seconds return. Within the dank stench of moist stone was some fragrance that was subtle at first but grew in intensity the further we walked. Soon it became so prevalent that it had depth and clogged my snout. It smelled like cigars, sugars, salts, vinegars, perfumes, musk, and sulfur all mixed together. I had to shield my hanging and watering mouth.

Suddenly, an orange light burst over me and I realized that I was standing at the bottom of the stairway. The light was so piercing that it warmed my fur. With it came a flood of voices.

"Come on!" Lighthorn boomed. As my eyes adjusted to the brightness, a large drawing room faded into my vision. People were everywhere and from all species, each holding a plate loaded with suspicious looking food or a long glass of steamy liquid. The commotion of their conversing and laughter bothered my ears. Lighthorn led me over to a long table that scratched right down the center of the drawing room.

"Enjoy yourself," he said patting my back. "I'll be lingering." And he took off.

I leaned against the table, looking down at the food as I let out a long sigh. I wasn't very hungry, but if I were starved I couldn't touch this stuff. The meats and sweets were placed together haphazardly, each dish separated only by a pitcher of beer or a bottle of wine. It was like a pup set up this buffet. Some of the dishes I couldn't tell apart, especially those dishes that contained ruminants of tentacles and other amphibious or reptilian trademarks. My stomach turned violently at the sight. I was never one who liked much food and the sight of this much made me nauseous.

Relief came when I saw the open bar in the corner and my heart leapt. This was the place I was to meet Torra. As I made my way toward the counter, my eyes panned the room frantically, at first with caution so I won't draw any unnecessary attention. But my movements became more hurried as I realized that Torra was nowhere to be seen.

"What'll it be, sir?"

My face almost bumped into the snout of the horse bartender. I muttered something and I didn't realize what I had ordered until he handed me a Black Stallion. Pressing my body against the wall, my drink hovering near my nose, I noticed that Lighthorn had disappeared from sight. The room was full, but not over crowded, and I was sure that I would have seen him if he had gone. But he was nowhere. I looked up at the chandelier with over a hundred candles pressed into to it, proving light for the entire room and the orange glass window that I could tell had a brick wall behind it. Orange tapestries hung from the walls. My mind was shorting though all the possibilities.

Where was she?

Where was he?

Then I saw him.

Standing at the base of one of the orange tapestries, which curled over his thin body, was a slender Dalmatian with sharp yellow eyes, a dozen black spots around his face, and such thin fur that it had a pinkish taint. He was looking right at me. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again. He was still there and moving towards me, smiling. He was like a specter gliding across floor.

"Have you forgotten you promise to me?" said the Dalmatian in his signature sly smile.

"Rox?" I uttered under my trembling jaw.

"Czar."

I almost didn't recognize my own name. "What are you doing here?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost," he chuckled.

My eyes wandered up and down his slender frame. After eleven years, he hadn't changed. My body shook from within, reminding itself of his beauty. His black and white vest wrapped tightly around his curves, his hips, and his tail, all rocking as he moved around me. In all our years apart, I haven't found any women to match his sensuous gestures. My mouth had gone numb and dry.

"I don't know..." Rox continued, still circling me. "Whether I should be flattered by your astonishment or resentful."

My mind whirled back to the last time we saw each other--on the Algery Fields--our own spot not far from Shullen Academy, where I parted from him, his eyes a flood and his mouth howlingprotests and appeals. It was the day I told him that I was going back home to take over my father's wing of the Rio Grande and that I would not be returning to Shullen. The sound of his crying as I walked away still rings in my ears. Now it was especially irritating.

"You know..." Rox's voice grounded me back in that orange drawing room. He spoke like he'd also seen my vision. "It's torn at me all these years. What is it? God almost ten now. I guess I forgot remind you of your promise."

My eyes stung at the scent of the Algery Fields that I could swear still emanated from him. His humor hadn't changed either and it made my heart ache even more.

"Don't play dumb, Czar. It was your promise to marry me."

Then he slid his paws down the blade of my jacket. "You remember. That first weekend at Sullen? You'd been spying on me the whole time and you knew that I liked to come out to the Algery Fields between sessions just to be alone. You came to me."

My heart throbbed and I was afraid that someone would hear it. With every word, I could see the vision of my assembled dagger melt away.

"And we barely exchanged words," the Dalmatian reminisced. "We didn't know each other's names!" He laughed and rolled his eyes. "Still, you said that your mother told you not to doubt yourself when you found your mate and that you were sure that it was me. You couldn't explain it, but you just knew it. Then you said that when we had graduated, you'd take me out west, and you'd marry me. You didn't care who you had to bribe or extort. Then you asked my name, which was necessary for the certificate. And before I could say it, you kissed my mouth."

"Oh Rox," I uttered involuntarily. His eyes gleamed in amusement. "It's...I'm..."

"So you are glad to see me?"

"Rox," I whimpered. "I've suffered just as much. You must believe that. I wish there was a way--"

"There was," Rox flared. "You had to just come back to Shullen and take me."

"It wasn't that simple."

"And you've not been faithful, Czar. I've gotten a look at your latest affair. Interesting name. Torra isn't?"

My muzzle drooped. "You've seen her? Where?" I sank as I saw Rox's indigent face. Even I admit that my emotions can get the better of me. But hearing the drunken laughter and the gasps of gorging of the company around me, I took some comfort that I was not alone in that regard.

Rox's eyes glowed. "Of course I've seen her. She was part of our staff. Unfortunately not anymore. She had a conflict. It's too bad. She was a popular among our guests, and me."

I couldn't feel my heart. "Is she..." I trailed off. Rox shook his head. "Gone? Oh no...well, I'm not exactly sure. I think she's still around somewhere." I choked down my drink, it being the only thing to keep me from screaming. The apparition of the dagger faded off like sand.

"Don't fill yourself with anguish," Rox said, nudging his slender frame against mine. "Because I have what you want. It's an interesting plan I have to admit."

By now, I'd given enough of myself away. My plan was not going to be disrupted, even by strange reunions. As I finished off the last drop of my glass, I composed myself. Then I looked down at the Dalmatian with as icy a glance as I could muster. It seemed to work since his flushing fur seemed to dim and his face retracted.

"I know about the pieces you're looking for," he snapped, trying to gain the high ground again, but his game was up. There was nothing in the world I feared more than him, and in this place at this moment. But with the sight of my father's carcass and the gangs cross the nation being swallowed up by this Gangster King, my head returned to its right place. "I know where they are hidden, Czar, and I know what you intend to do with them."

"Really?" I smirked. "Well Rox, no matter what you thought then or now, I never revoked my offer." Rox's ears perked up, which I admit filled me with memories of their habit of doing that when I nibbled on them. I was pleased with how I managed to turn the tables on him so quickly. "If you help me out here, I might take you too."

Rox huffed. "You haven't changed, Czar. Always trying to get a leg up on everyone."

I laughed. "From what I recall, that is exactly how you like it."

"Well, I think someone may have outdone you in that."

Before I could respond, my body froze as the giant shadow of Lighthorn came over me. He swooped in between us and wrapped his hefty forearm around Rox. I clenched my glass as I saw Rox's face look up at the great black wolf and light up.

"I see you've met my squeeze," Lighthorn chuckled as he pulled Rox closer to him. "I think it'll do you well to know him better."

"We were just talking about marriage," Rox scoffed. Lighthorn burst out laughing. "You're a serial thief of hearts, Rox. That's why you've made a success out of yourself."

"You don't have to worry, rump." It tore my ears to hear Rox call Lighthorn that, but I held myself. "No one's gonna replace you."

Lighthorn smiled at me. "Then I'll leave you to your devices. By the looks of this place, I think we'll have more souls under our belt before the clock strikes midnight." Then the wolf left, almost disappeared.

"No one touches you like that!" I snapped.

Rox rolled his beaming eyes. "There used to be someone who only had that privilege."

"You're not like that, Rox. You're not someone's whore."

"You made me yours!"

"Quiet down!" I looked around to see if there were any stares in our direction.

"They don't give a damn, Czar. Plenty of that goes on here. The only thing that's keeping you from joining in..." He tugged at my collar, "is you." The fragrance of the fields was so strong on him, it watered my eyes.

"Where is it, Rox?"

Rox pulled away. "Fine," he pouted. "Believe me, I don't want to see you succeed at this, but...I think there is a chance for you to get back into my good graces."

I swept my paw in the direction of Lighthorn's exit. "How do I know you're not gonna--" Suddenly, one of the horse busboys leapt in front of me displaying a try. I coolly placed my glass on the try.

"I like a little action," Rox persisted, "because these nights can get so boring and predictable. And considering our past pleasures, I'll give you the first one for free. The rest, however, you're gonna have to earn."

Then he trotted into a cluster of people.

"Wait!" I called back.

"You'll find what you're looking for in the mouth of the pig, Czar."

I didn't go after him, it was best not getting noticed--or anything could be used against you. I was troubled that Lighthorn saw us together, but I couldn't worry about it then. Mitigation of Rox's effects would have to wait.

What did he mean?

The Rox I knew never talked in riddles like that, he was always blunt, one of the reasons I was so attracted to him. Something that most people do not share: man or woman and regardless of species.

I slumped back over to the table of revolving food and the fact that anyone could be chugging it down in such great quantities baffled and disturbed me. And some were. I couldn't help but think of the third circle of Hell. Then I heard puffing, which grew into a huffing. I looked up to see a pig, the one I'd seen before gobbling down mouth-fulls of the patters, clutch his wide throat and harshly gag.

I jumped onto the table and charged toward the pig. I ran with such power that the food exploded from off of me and I was lucky didn't slide off the table's display of goo. When I reached the other end, I dived down onto the pig, clutching his solar plexus with my paw and pulled. His width made it difficult to get a good grip. But I kept pulling back, trusting with all my might. The pig moaned in pain, I might have been crushing his ribs, but I wouldn't let up.

Finally, something projected from his mouth, striking the ice sculpture of a goose and shattering it to pieces. I let the pig fall onto the table. If he thanked me I didn't hear, because when I went over to the pile of ice, I saw it. A gold bolt. I looked around to see who was watching, to my surprise, and unease, everyone was carrying on as if nothing had happed; even the pig, who was beginning to slowly work his bridge back into rhythm. I picked up the bolt and marveled at it for a moment before placing it into my pocket.

_Oh yes...he still wants it. _

Then I left the drawing room. After going down a narrow corridor, I came to the next room where I knew I'd find the next piece: a dance hall.

It was dark, but illuminated by hundreds of green spots of light swirling around the walls and green tapestries that brushed against the smooth floor as people pranced across it. They danced to a band of shadowy figures that played under three dark green windows, each larger than the last. As I entered, a fennec girl winked at me before she was pushed off by the cat at her arm who glared at me. The moist heat dampened my fur and the pungent smell of perspiration and musk took the air out of my lungs. Rox and Lighthorn were there too. Together. Arm and arm and gently swirling.

My temple throbbed and my teeth grinded. I damned myself for only having one bolt of the knife. As I approached, they drifted away through the tapestries, swirling lights, and stumbling dancers. When I tried to pick up my pace, my body bogged down, crushing my chest. As Lighthorn encompassed Rox and nibbled at his ears, my body flooded with such hot rage that the slightest movement was a step in Hell. Still, I kept on until I was sure that they were in reaching distance. But I was suddenly interrupted by the feeling of water under my feet. Freezing water.

"Watch it!" shouted a smell weasel who had his head buried in the bucket of ice water I'd stepped it. I looked up and they were gone again. In a sense, I was glad, the pain and converging had somewhat subsided. I dunked my head into the ice bucket too and felt my sharp focus again. The music was stale and no longer enthralling. The dancing subsided.

Inside the bucket, through ice, something was shining gold. I dove back in and caught it with my teeth. When I tore my head back out, spraying water over a hyena who yelped, I spit the object into my paw. The first half of the handle for my dagger. I cackled a little to myself as I placed it into my pocket and dried my face off on the green tapestry. As I left, I tossed the green aside.

I made my way down the next corridor. I found it strange how sharply they turned. The next room I came to was, like the drawing room, very bright. A hundred candles reflected off the gold molded over card tables and a giant roulette wheel in the middle of the room. There was also a stone frog near the base of the roulette table, pouring steaming liquor out of its mouth. When a busboy handed me a drink in a bright yellow glass, I almost didn't notice as I ran my paw against one of the tables. Yes, it was solid gold.

There were approximately thirty people in this room, playing cards or spinning the roulette wheel, but there was no money or chips being exchanged among them. Instead, there were these white cards.

Could they be gambling over paper?

"You son of a bitch!" I got my answer when a jaguar was cleared out.

He shot up from his table and went for the throat of the bear player who cleared him. It took three thugs to hold the jaguar down against his screaming and cursing. As they carried him past me, his last piece of white paper fell to my feet. Only one sentence was written on it: "Barton to Hazel Streets, Chicago, Illinois."

I was holding the deed to gang property in my paw. Territory was the currency of exchange tonight. I had just seen the death of a boss and he couldn't be given even the honor of being gunning down defending the last of his turf. I curled the end of my tail in terror and excitement, which accelerated when I saw Rox. He was beside the steaming frog, his tempting yellow eyes locked on mine. When I approach him, he darted off, but not before slipping some flat and smooth golden object into the jacket pocket of a skinny tiger in a bowtie who was dealing the Blackjack table.

"Are you playing!" The tiger called over to me. I nodded and sat between a grunting bull puffing on a cigar and a short weasel who held his territorial cards close.

"Whose territory are we playing for?" I asked the bull.

He huffed. "The King's. It's his house, isn't it?"

"What are you playing, sir?" the tiger asked, his shining eyes matching the room. I placed the jaguar's card in front of me. Then the tiger dealt the three of us. The bull got 19 and decided to stay. The weasel yelped when he got two tens, but he was struck dumb when I flipped my cards up to reveal two faces. The tiger handed me another card.

"South Taming to North Tout Street, New Orleans, Lousiania."

Rox was standing at the frog again, grinning at me as Lighthorn slid his paw down his curvy side. I flipped the card around, scribbled onto it, and gave it back to the tiger. His eyes raised in astonishment. "This is your bet?"

"I'll ask the questions. How much is it worth?"

"I-I don't--" the tiger hasty waved someone over. It was Rox with Lighthorn who came over. Lighthorn looked at my card and grinned. "So you're betting your house?" Rox snickered.

"How much is it worth?" I repeated

"How about..." Rox peered at Lighthorn who was nodding, "one third of our house or nothing?"

There was a gasp and everyone in the room peer over at us; even the echoing music from the ballroom paused. The bull nearly swallowed his cigar. "I fold!" exclaimed the weasel and the others followed.

"A fourth and..." I pointed to the tiger, "the shirt on his back." Rox and Lighthorn laughed in unison. "You've got a deal!"

The tiger he dealt and I won.

Lighthorn didn't flinch and Rox calmly ordered the tiger to hand over his jacket. I grinned when I heard a rumble of what I thought was applause from behind me. But I sank as soon as I realized that it was actually the jaguar returning and wielding a golden blade between his claw. He lunged at the bear who won his territory. Shouts and screams ricocheted through the room. I was in a trace as I looked at the golden blade with no base or handle (the jaguar was using a cloth to grasp it).

The bear grabbed at his paw and they went tumbling around the room, smashing chairs and tables. The roulette wheel fell off its hinge and rolled into the frog statute, sending it crashing to the floor. Playing cards and territory cards went flying everywhere.

I searched the tiger's jacket and found the blade and pulled out the smooth golden object I saw Rox slip into it. It was nothing more than a gold coin.

"Rox!" But he was nowhere. The jaguar had found my blade.

I followed behind them, well out of the jaguar's fire range. Not even the thugs would go as near as I was, but there was enough commotion to keep off suspicion. We spilled into an adjacent room that was made of marble walls and pillars and empty except for a couple of plants. Their bodies slammed into each other and against the pale marble. Their feet slide on the slick tiles (I even had to watch my balance). The jaguar pinned the bear to the corner. I eyed the jaguar's neck and bent my knees, bracing for the attack. They both were beginning to waiver. Once the bear had let go of the jaguar's throat, I leaped onto the jaguar's back and squeezed his neck.

The jaguar gasped for air and the bear took his chance to escape. Unfortunately for him, he was so disgruntled that he didn't realize he was stepping right into the range of the blade. The jaguar clawed his face and sent the dagger into his neck. When the jaguar pulled the knife out, the bear screamed through his gaggling as blood sprayed onto the marble wall. It was just the two of us now.

The jaguar bent down and hurled my over him. I came crashing down onto one of the plants, smashing the pot and sending soil everywhere. Wiping the soil and blood from my eyes, I shook off the pain. The jaguar charged me, bearing his fangs. The husky traits in me allowed my body to rebound quickly and my inner coyote provided me with the reflexes to dodge the blade. It sparked as it hit the wall. The jaguar, stunned, paused just long enough for me to dig my teeth into his leg. He roared and kicked me back into the soil pile, then he charged me again. I was finished.

Suddenly, I could feel something sharp in the soil under my paw. I didn't wait. When the jaguar was close enough, I sent the sharp golden object into his wrist. He screamed and fell backward. When I heard the blade hit the floor, I laughed out loud. But before I could take my prize, a Dalmatian stomped his foot down on my paw, snatched the blade, and proceeded to slice the jaguar's throat. His blood joined the bear's on the wall and my fur. When the jaguar fell cold beside me, I looked up to see Rox, the blood blade in his paw and his fur stained brownish red. The clock upstairs struck the next hour and its ten piecing chimes shook the room. I could only sit there captivated.

Lighthorn's shadow casting over the room struck me with enough sense to bury my end of the blade back into the soil. The black wolf joined Rox's side, playfully pulling at his tail as if nothing had happened.

"What's going on?"

Rox looked at me and then at Lighthorn. He told him that the jaguar wasn't pleased with his luck and took it out on the bear. He handed the blade to Lighthorn, who eyed it with disconcerting glee.

"Things always seem to show up," he said.

Rox went over the fight but added one detail. "I was in danger. Czar protected me." He also left out another detail: the other blade I found in the soil.

Lighthorn helped me back to my feet. "I thank you," he said. "For preventing this night from becoming a complete nightmare."

"Well," I nodded. "We get nowhere with violence alone. There's a time for that."

"Here, here," Lighthorn exclaimed. "What I meant was keeping my most prized possession safe." He patted Rox's backside. Then Lighthorn ordered two of his thugs to remove the bodies. Rox kept on staring blankly at the blood. "You plan on cleaning this up?" Lighthorn hissed in Rox's ear.

"No," I blurted out. I couldn't resist after seeing Rox's stained fur and the place in the soil where I'd stashed my blade.

"I mean...let me do it."

Lighthorn inclined his head in astonishment.

"I've been around plenty blood out west," I continued. "So why ruin someone else's night?"

Lighthorn billowed again. "Pacifier and blood-luster. I like you more and more every second. You value control." Lighthorn pointed to the people in the adjacent gambling room, who were starting to gather up the mess left behind. "They have none. After only three rooms this house already dominates them. They're good for minions, but you..." he raised his firm finger to my nose. "You have the making of membership."

"Thank you." Something roused in me, it disturbed me to think that it might be the force in Lighthorn's voice. "By the way," he went on. "You had a strong showing. Why did you reduce my own offer?"

"Give and take," I said. "I didn't want you to think I'm too eager to drain you of all you got. It's all about control."

"You're father's words." Lighthorn looked at Rox. "Too bad he didn't take his own advice." Then he licked the blood off Rox's muzzle. My own blood was on fire and the desire to see Lighthorn's blood on that wall was never the more immense, but I kept the lid on.

He handed the blade back to Rox. "I'll have some rags and hot water sent down. Rox, after you and Czar are done here, why don't you take him to our special steam room to freshen up?" Then he turned to leave with his thugs. "Oh and Czar. Considering the mess, all bets have been voided. Sorry. But you can still keep the jacket." After he left, a couple of thugs dropped off some towels and hot water.

As Rox and I started to clean, calm swept over me. It was good enough to have him here with me. Only me.

"Rox, come here."

He obeyed and I took his paws, lifted them to my muzzle, and cleaned them. He shuttered at my touch. I knew he was having the same flashback I was having: when a group of jocks beat him up after seeing him eye them and I cleaned his wounds with my tongue.

"Why are you doing this?" he whispered.

"Because you're filthy."

"No! Why are you here to kill the Gangster King?"

I looked into his yellow eyes, which were glistening. "Where'd you learn to take out someone like that? That's not you."

"Not everything is anymore," he huffed. "You gotta learn to pick up some rougher skills out here. But you still didn't answer my question."

I looked at his paws in mine. "Because," I answered. "It's my father he's taken and my turf he's encroaching on."

"Damn it!" he snapped. "The same father and turf that took you from me?"

"It's not that simple. The Gangster King...god...Lighthorn is amassing something that will be unstoppable and unchecked if left--"

"Or..." Rox cut me off, "at his right paw, you will be the second most powerful person in the county." My ears perked up.

"Think about it," Rox continued, his voice full of lure. "We could change the world, together. We couldn't make things work when we were pups, but we can now. We can make the world the way we want it."

"All wishful thinking, Rox," I said. "What makes you think he'd have me as his right henchman?"

"Trust me, Czar. He holds you in more esteem than you think. He can't lie to himself, no matter how hard he tries."

"Even if that were true," I sighed. "The world would rather die than change." I pointed to the people in the other room. "That's why people are so corruptible. That's the secret to Lighthorn's success. And to this place."

Rox lowered his eyes. "Then there can never anything between us?"

I raised his eyes back to mine. "I didn't say that. I had to leave you when I was a boy, but I'm a man now. I'm the boss and I intend to say that way."

"Don't let it go to your head."

I pulled him closer. "That's why I want that blade, Rox. Let me have it. When I'm done here, we can leave together. Like I said."

Rox sneered. "It's not that simple."

I held out my paw. "Do it."

Rox looked at it and then into my eyes. Then he sighed and placed the golden, blooded blade into my paw.

"Give and take?" he sniveled.

"Yes."

When we were done, Rox led me to the steam chamber. Its heat was like an ocean of wetness coming down on me. He whispered through the vapors "Let me prepare you." All like he used to, he started with my belt, my pants, my shirt, and then my undergarments. When he was done, he slipped out of his own clothes. I took a towel and wrapped the golden pieces in it. Then I pulled Rox's waist close to mine as he guided me through the halls of the chamber.

The chamber had several steam rooms where I could see some of the nation's most notorious bosses (and some unknowns) just basking in the vapors as blobs. There was no life to them in this beating steam, and that's what made me nervous. But feeling Rox's touch, I couldn't help but grin. He still wanted me and that was an intoxicating relief to know. But with him so close, I could see the vision of my dagger begin to fade again. Even in this heat, I knew that my greatest test was yet to come.

We came to an empty private room with walls of purple and a coal pile in the center. Rox sat me down next to him on the stone seats. He watched as I began to put the pieces of the dagger together: first sliding the two blades together and attaching them to half a handle with one bolt. It was a flimsy fit and it didn't help that my hands trembled from the draining heat.

"Why are you doing that?" The Dalmatian asked.

"Better...to have some protection...than none at all."

"I mean why in front of me?"

I grinned at him. "I wouldn't if...I thought you were a threat."

"And I'm not?"

"Not the way you lied to keep...Lighthorn from knowing...about the other blade." I grabbed the back of his neck. "You think...heh...that you're tempting me from...going through...but..." I pressed his muzzle. "You're finding yourself...on the path with me. You want me...more than...hah...the Gangster King himself."

Rox tore from my grip. "You're wrong. It's the Gangster King who's keeping you on the straight path." He pointed at the dagger. "And it's this that's making you stray from it." Then he waved his paw toward the coal pile. "Melt it! So we can--"

"The next piece is in this room, isn't it Rox?"

He was struck dumb.

"Torra once mentioned a steam chamber." I held out my paw, which was becoming more of an effort in this heat. "Come on."

Rox raised his lips to an inch from mine. I was sweltering, my body was going numb. Still, I kept my senses with the thought of the blood and the scattered cards.

"Don't force me to be you're enabler," his searing breath fell on my nose as he spoke. "You have to make your own destiny and I won't stop you."

"You won't, huh?" I held the golden coin to his nose. "Then explain trying to make a fool of me."

He wrapped his fingers around my paw. "I was hoping you'd take this in place of--"

"Just..." my voice trailed off in the heat--and in the taste of Rox's mouth. His tongue slipped between my lips and delivered the next golden bolt. My eyes rolled back in the taste of Rox and the golden metallic. Then he abruptly cocked his head back.

"Will nothing keep you from doing this?" he yelped.

"I...I told you..."

He stood up. "Well then, I hope my last offer can." Then he left. I whimpered. In my head I screamed curses at this place. It was like it had its own self defense mechanism with something special for everybody. For me, it was Rox. My paws trembled in weakness as I desperately tried to screw the next bolt into place. Then I returned the dagger to my towel. My mind swirled with thoughts of Rox and only then did I realize that the coals were starting to die, and where the heat had really been coming from.

_ What is this place?_

Suddenly, I could sense movement from behind me. Excitement pulsed through my body at Rox's return, but it sank into terror when I turned to see Lighthorn in the doorway and the clock upstairs striking eleven.

He was naked, but his nose didn't moist in the heat nor did his fur ruffle in the steam. I could feel the temperature rise ten degrees as he circled the room. As much as I didn't want to admit it, his muscular body was a site. The finest of masculinity I'd ever seen, except for the hideous scares that ran down his back, like something had been pulled off from there.

He sat down next to me, placing his paw right down on my towel between us: the towel that hid my dagger.

"It touches me," he said "to see such an innocent connection between you and Rox."

I couldn't speak. The heat was burying me into the stone seat.

"Don't look so pale," Lighthorn snickered. "I understand. He's a real grabber. And that's his own weapon. But rest assured 'cause that kind of thing happens here all the time. It's our norm."

"What?"

"You know what I mean. The world rejects us, so we make our own here in this house. As I said, most are consumed by it fairly quickly. But few others," his eyes flashed in amusement. "They won't stop until they find what Hadese Manor really has to offer."

"And...what's that?"

"Power!"

Then he stood up. "Congratulations, Czar. You're getting a personal invite to join the club. You've proven yourself to be one of those few. You can't image the perks of being on our inside. Enough to impress even you're little boyfriend." Then one of the thugs entered, handing a tall glass of water to Lighthorn. He lifted it to me in cheers. "Together at last!"

"Aren't you two..." I exclaimed out. "You're not jealous?"

"Jealous?" he chuckled, handing me the glass. "We've both passed that stage. And I think we know much a danger jealously over trivial things like...heh...tail...can be."

I ran my finger against the edge of my towel. "Yes."

"Good. We can discuss the details in the lounge. Consider it an honor. Hardly anyone except the inner circle is allowed back there. If anyone gives you any trouble, just drop Rox's name and you'll be fine." He ran his eyes down my body. "There're some bathrobes at the other end of the chamber. Don't be much longer."

I nodded. "Where is it?" I already knew.

"Just following the next corridor," Lighthorn yawned. "It's a straight shot, so don't be fooled by the sharp turns. Course, I'm sure you're used to that by now."

When Lighthorn and the thug left, I splashed some of the water on my muzzle and the rest on the fizzling coals.

When I got to the lounge, it was like no other room in the house (or like any other I'd ever seen). I couldn't see the walls because all the light (which was blue) was focused in on the center, creating in the darkness an oasis of couches arranged around one large red cushion. Seated were eight of Lightorn's thugs: all big wolves with very similar features, their blank faces their trademark. But these were wearing black robes. I hesitated before I entered the blue light, but was pushed in by Lighthorn as he passed by me. They all stood in his presence.

"Oh stop," he waved them back down. "Let's welcome the newest member of our club. Czar, come and sit up front by me." I took my place at his right side so that he won't feel the lump of my towel tucked away on my right under my robe. He lit a cigar and offered me one.

"No, I don't smoke."

"Ha! A monk!" the smoke danced in his laughter. I looked at the thugs, who were all staring forward at the red cushion in the center. Lighthorn likewise looked at it idly. He went on talking about how Prohibition was coming and the great opportunities it presented for the organization, and now that me and the Rio Grande were on board, the potential was incomprehensible.

"Prohibitions," he extorted "allow for monopolies. And we're already gaining a monopoly on monopolies. You do the math."

I did and I liked the calculation. But it was quickly deluded by the image of my father, my land, his monopoly and... and Lighthorn's paws all over Rox.

Suddenly, a ray of red light shot down from the ceiling onto the cushion in the center. Distant music began to play from an unseen phonograph. It was crisp and clear without any crack in its sound. Then someone stepped into the light and my jaw dropped. It was Rox with a flimsy black robe hanging from his side. As he stepped into the red beam, his feet treading the cushion, he let his robe fall off. My slender Dalmatian laid himself down onto the cushion in front of us, his body swerving and grinding against the fabric. He danced in synchronicity with the disembodied tune and the woman's voice that came with it.

"I remember when it was spring,

_ with your eyes glistening._

_ Please stay in my warm hold,_

_ before you step into the cold_."

My mouth hung limp. The thugs didn't move, sitting in place as stern as soldiers. "Is this some kind of joke?" I cried.

Rox rolled onto his back, looked at me with his wily smile and nipping in my direction. Lighthorn chuckled. "I think he wants you to join him." I froze. "Come on," Lighthorn urged. "He's practically biting for you." I clutched my towel tighter to my body. "Fine," he said getting up. "If you won't..."

I stood up and started abruptly for Rox. But before I stepped into the red light, my robe pulled off of me. I stood there embarrassed and exposed, thanking above that the robe fell over the towel, keeping it hidden. I looked at Lighthorn. His black, mocking eyes glimmered through the blue light and his foot on the edge of my robe.

Rox got up on his knees and directed me to kneel down behind him. I wrapped my arms around him and was stationary as I let the Dalmatian dance over my body. The mastery he had over his figure hadn't faded in the least bit. The smell of Algery Fields was as strong as ever and I wanted to hold onto his warmth forever. Rox pressed against my chest, grinding his tail against my abdomen as he nipped at my muzzle. In a whisper, he sang with the music.

"Stay here, stay now

_ I remember how._

_ If you fall from here,_

_ Let me take you there_."

I grasped him close as I lowered the tip of my muzzle to his nose. "Where's the next piece, Rox?"

He giggled. "Stop panting. It looks so eager." I pulled his ear back with my teeth.

"I meant it."

"Oh, Czar. So rough. I can't wait."

The mockery in Lighthorn's eyes stung me, so I continued to nip at Rox's ear for cover. "Is it the bolt or the handle?"

"Just enjoy the moment for a moment."

There was a murmur among the thugs. It bothered me to hear them have any personality at all, especially when they were watching a heated little Dalmatation putting his tail between my legs and caressing my crotch. They were all waiting to see it.

Rox looked up at me and placed his paws at both sides of my head. "You know...this is all show for them. I have a private room tonight...for you to spend the whole night." A thousand sharp pains stabbed my lower body. My firm thighs began to shake. My mouth trembled. He was melting me. He wanted to see it more than any of them.

"You just have to show the slightest excitement," he slurred at the tip of his hanging tongue. I fought it. The music was becoming like razors in my ears.

"Stay here, stay now

_ I remember how._

_ If you fall from here,_

_ Let me take you there_."

"You said you wouldn't stop me," I uttered.

"Yes, but I can still offer you some options." His fragrance of the spring field pollen filled my eyes and snout with mucus.

"What are you wearing?" I sobbed.

Rox laughed. "A little something I know you like."

"Why won't..."

My words cut off as he trust against my doghood. "Because I know you want this more. It only takes a little..."

"NO!" I shoved him off me. The music went silent. Lighthorn's face, which the entire time had looked like it was waiting for a punch-line, fell in bewilderment. I stood up and collected my robe, coiling it over my towel to ensure Lighthorn didn't see it. The thugs looked at each other. "Excuse me," I said to Lighthorn. "This has been a nice little distraction, but I'd like to discuss the terms of my membership now. In private." Lighthorn's confused glare evolved into laughter.

"Of course," he exclaimed, as if to himself. "Sorry my boy," he called over to Rox. "He's mine now." Then he rose, putting both paws on my shoulders. "Come, we can talk in my room." As I put the robe back on, keeping the towel out of site, I looked over at Rox. He was still kneeling on the edge of the cushion, his fur ruffled, his teeth bearing, and his eyes glazed. The flush in his fur was receding. I couldn't tell if he was holding in a cry or a rage. "Goodbye, Rox," I whisped. He responded with something inaudible. Then I looked back at Lighthorn. "Alright, let's go."

I followed him into the darkness, where the blue light didn't penetrate. As we walked, the lighted oasis of coaches became more distant until it was only a beam on the horizon. It was like I was entering a dream.

But I wasn't bothered, because I had become accustomed to the strange proportions of this house. And there was something else. A wave of pride and exhalation. I'd overcome my greatest test. I wasn't able to get the next piece, but give and take. I had to give up a piece to be with Lighthorn alone in the room where the last piece was located. Now I could claim the prize. Still, it was hard to keep up with the darkness hiding Lighthorn's fur and only being able to follow the sounds of his footsteps.

"Here!"

Lighthorn stopped me with his arm. He lit two touches to reveal the black door to his room. He led me inside. When I entered, an indescribable sense of ecstasy pulsed through my body. There was a smell of pure adrenaline and it was wonderful. It was a wave of fulsome emotion that swept over me.

The features of the dark room were made out by the light coming through a large, red stained glass window. I didn't inquire to where the light was coming from (it wasn't from the outside) because I accepted it in a stupor. The angles of the room were spaced in such an irregular way so that no matter where you stood, you felt twelve times taller than you were. It was like being on the top of the world and I couldn't help but stretch my arms out like a king.

My trance was heightened as I heard Lighthorn whisper in my ear. "That's the effect this room was designed for. I hope you like it as much as you look, because your choices tonight have made this room yours as well as mine." He led me over to the room's only furnishing: the bed that was situated directly underneath the red window. The bed was as round as a roulette wheel and its covers were dark purple. Words sown in silver circled its edges: miluna,invidia, avartia, iracundia, inertia, and cupido. There was one long pillow, on which was written in silver the final word: suberia. When I looked up at the towering stained glass window, I saw that same word etched above it and with two stone horses prostrating before the carving.

Lighthorn sat me down on the bed's edge, looking at me with his empty dark eyes. "The power of this room is insurmountable," he said. "Even for me." Then he let his robe fall to the floor. Seeing his naked self in this room, with all the glory of his power illuminating, was more titillating than ever. It was then that I knew how wrong I was.

"You're one of us in this inner circle now," he hissed as he ran his paw down the edge of my robe. "Now consummate the agreement!" I stood up and dropped my robe off the side of the bed, taking care that it covered the towel and the dagger. I grabbed the pillow and laid it by my side, just within reaching distance of the towel on the floor--and the dagger. I rested my head on the cold silver words of the pillow. What scared me was the eagerness of my actions, especially as Lightnorn took his place behind me, and mounted me.

The pleasure was immense. The scent of the room and his fur made me scream by its sheer power. All thoughts of my territory, my father, and even Rox fled my mind. I was Lighthorn's second. I came an assassin and became a prince, what more could I do? Mission accomplished and beyond my wildest dreams. I was filled with such exhilaration. I squeezed the pillowed tighter and tighter until I thought it's stuffing would come flying out. I panted and bit at the silver words. The room as so prevailing. He was so powerful. I was so powerful, second only to the greatest boss in the world.

_ Second...prince...his subordinate..._

It was then that I realized that I was feeling the third bolt of the dagger under the pillow. Its coolness gave my heat a direction .Lighthorn's thrusts grew harder, but he didn't pant or scream out. As my paw slipped over the bed and retrieved the dagger, I knew that must have been lost in his own euphoria because didn't respond as I pressed the dagger against the side of the bed and screwed in the third bolt. Every bit of the ecstasy and pleasure fought me... and urged me. I opened my eyes to the room and thought of it as all mine, where my shadow would never be matched. Where I would be king forever.

Then I sent the dagger between Lightnorn's shoulder blades.

He screamed out as I pulled away and proceeded to stab him in all his vital parts. The blood that ran down his chest was blacker than his fur. He continued to scream, but offered no resistance. After eighteen stabs, I stopped, and he stopped screaming. My body dropped as he, covered in a mess of his own blood, smiled at me and chuckled. I stabbed again, then several more times, but his chuckles only grew into laughter.

"What are you?" I shouted.

Suddenly, a bullet shot through my paw.

I dropped the dagger and held onto my mutilated paw, crying in agony. When I finally turned my head, there, leaning on the edge of the bed, dressed in a black robe and with a pistol in paw, as Rox. "No, Rox. Please...you said you won't stop..."

"I'm sorry, Czar. But I do eventually need to protect myself."

"W-what?"

He crawled onto the bed and curled beside Lighthorn. "He came an assisian and would've stayed a prince," Lighthorn billowed. "And now he wants to be king maker. Well I think that's a conflict of interest..." he patted Rox's head, "...for you."

My mouth dropped.

"Yes, Czar," Rox jeered. "I'm the Gangster King. Lighthorn may be the spirit of the operation, but I'm the flesh and blood."

"But...how..." I uttered though my mouth dripping in pain. Then I realized that, to my horror, this entire night, aside from Rox and the lifeless thugs, no one else seemed to even notice Lighthorn.

"Give and take," Rox chuckled. Lighthorn held Rox close, his black blood staining the Dalmatian's fur.

"Please, Rox..." I pleaded. "I had no idea. I wouldn't kill--"

Rox held up his paw. "I don't think that's true."

"Please..."

"Now that you know," he picked up the bloody golden dagger, "I don't think I can trust you. After all, you went through all this trouble to kill the one you thought was the real deal." Rox crawled over to me as he ran his paw across the silver words on the bed's edges. "Czar, of all the vices this house has to offer, you had to settle for the worst." Then a snuffle entered his voice. "After all I've done to make you choose me you chose this?" He placed the end of his muzzle to my ear. "Suberia?"

Then he looked at Lighthorn, who braced himself.

I pleased. "Please don't..."

It was too late. My voice was cut off as the large wolf seized my mouth and dislocated my jaw. There wasn't enough time to even howl in pain before he shoved me into the stain glass window. The thick red glass broke my head and shoulder bones and the fragments cut at my fur. I was falling and all I could do was to wait for the final crunch of my body hitting the ground. But it never came. I just keep on falling. After what seemed like hours, the pain still throbbing, I realized that I was in an empty abyss, and just falling. The last thing I heard was the manor's clock striking midnight.

Some say that there is no sense of time in eternity. It's a lie. I can feel the years, decades, and centuries go by. I can sense the distance and it kills me every inch it gets longer. To know I'm falling further from my world and time. From where I was a boss. From Lighthorn and his Hadese Manor. And from Rox and our Algery Fields.

Only to find you.

The End