DCM Volume 2 - Chapter 19: Dinner with the Madame Part 1

"Nice car." Albert couldn't but look in awe at the absolute beauty before him. It was pitch black, nearly completely fading out of existence in the bits of darkness the overhead street lights failed completely at illuminating. The style of the vehicle was more reminiscent of older car from his past life than the more modern and streamline appearance cars took on near the end of his demise. Like it belonged in an automobile museum for all to owe and decry the loss of style. It's front had a massive grill forced into a kinda grimace, like the machine was disdainful to the world itself and all it's filth. Bright headlights piercing unnaturally through the smoggy night, the engine purring like a big cat that new nothing in that jungle could ever hold a significant threat to it. Rumbling enough to even shake the cement beneath his feet. The rims shined under the ambient light, exposing the dark tires that, to his eyes, looked brand new.

He wasn't even a car guy, only ever really learning how to change his tires and oil. But even he could appreciate exactly how beautiful it was.

'And expensive as hell…' Honestly, with Appraise constantly throwing up imaginary dollar signs over every aspect of the car, even the thoughts of touching that surface with his bare hands didn't even try to form. It would be blasphemous to even dare to leave a smudge behind.

"She's a beauty, ain't she?" Willow grinned widely besides the vehicle, running her gloved hands over it's surface in revelry. She wore a simple black dress that hung tightly to her frame, a pair of high heels making her already tall stature even more pronounced. And her hair was let out that tight braid, making it more akin to a lion's mane. Majestic in all ways with it's loose curls. "Got her a few years ago as an absolute wreck and one my friends fixed her right up. She probably takes up a majority of my income but she's well worth it."

"I can believe that." His eyes roamed over the impossibly thickly tinted windows, something that would've gotten anyone else pulled over without a second thought. Just the tickets alone would gobble up any money like a slathering beast.

"Shall we?" After a few more moments of petting the car, she opened the door for him. A dim, internal light illuminating the cabin. It's dark brown leather seats with not even a single wrinkle or appearance of use, made him a bit subconscious of his muck covered boots. Stomping through the streets of Gotham would do that but tracking it inside and staining the upholstery was something that he found he simply couldn't do. "Don't worry about making anything dirty, just keep those boots on the floor mat and we'll be square."

"I'll try my best." And it was the truth, sitting utterly still shouldn't be too difficult...right? At least he sure hoped not. Without further ado, Albert carefully slid into the leathered seat and nearly melted under exactly how soft it felt underneath him. Far outstripping his lumpy bed at home over even the platform bed in his past life, it was said to have some health benefits but that was nothing in comparison to that bit of heavenly cloud. Only the door clicking close next to him dusted that pleasure filled stupor off his shoulders. Making him readily apparent of the barrier between him and the driver seat. It was something belonged in a limo...or a police vehicle. A series of buttons underneath was enough for him to know that he could roll up an interior window to build a sense of privacy from the driver. Whether or not Willow could do the same, he wasn't too sure.

He could feel the car shake slightly as Willow slid into the driver's seat, their eyes locking in the rear view mirror. In that moment, she looked a lot older to him. Someone who has seen a lot of the world and not all of it good.

"You ready?"

She asked, but they both knew he wouldn't back out now. Nonetheless, the branch of kindness extended his way would always be appreciated. Instead of answering verbally, he only pulled and locked the sea belt in place with an audible click that filled the rumbling cabin. Only then could he appreciate exactly how cozy the car was in comparison to the outside world, hot air flowing all around him and attacking his body with a series of warm tongues. It instantly made his gloved hands clammy, which he used to loosen his collar a bit just to allow some relief.

Willow only gave one final look in the mirror before her right reached down and pulled on the gear shift, and began to drive forward. It was a smooth ride, the gentle rumble coursing through his bones. Combine that with the toasty atmosphere, which easily outstripped his own furnaces ability to keep his room heated, and it almost rocked him right off into dreamland. His actions would be excused of course, who in the world would get mad at a malnourished teen catching a few much needed minutes of sleep?

But it seemed that wouldn't be the case here.

"So Lovecraft." The lady of the night called out to him conversationally, just loud enough to shake the clutches of sleep right off him. "How can live in some place so haunted? I swear I got the heebie jeebies just waiting for you."

"It's cheap, quietly literally dirt cheap right now." There really wasn't a need to keep such a thing secret, anyone would find out the deal he had with the city just by looking up their records. Sowing a bit of goodwill now, would only ever benefit him. "I don't even need to pay utilities."

"Makes sense," She chuckled lightly. "They want to draw people to live and build there after...that night. It sounds nice not having to worry about utilities at least but I think I'll keep my apartment. I'm sorry to tell you but your place HAS to be haunted."

"If it is, I haven't had anything happen yet." Albert shrugged, his secrets were fine to share but going around telling people he had a medium scope out his home due to that same concern didn't sound like the best idea. Not only would it make him seem a bit off but also might make poor Marceline seem like a scammer at best. Mad woman at worse. "But I'll be sure to tell you if any paranormal activity occur."

"I'll hold you to that."

The woman smiled a bit before they both fell into a comfortable silence, only the gentle rumbling keep the pair busy. In that moment, he looked out through those heavily tinted window to the Gotham night scene. He could see it all. Thugs swaggering down the street, cackling at any unfortunate citizen getting off work later than normal with the same ferocity of hyenas. Wide grins spreading across their face as they roared in laughter at their fleeing prey. Addicts hunched in large packs near ally mouths, their bodies skinny and pockmarked. He could practically feel the desperation coming off of them in heavy waves and suddenly he felt infinitely glad to be behind the incredibly tinted window as a hungry yellow rimmed eyes whirled around to lock onto the passing vehicle. Turning his gaze away from those awful orbs, new sweat dripped down his back. Cold and clammy.

The desperation was there, the willingness to do anything foul or depraved just to get another hit. There was no morality in those eyes, no sense of right or wrong. All of it stripped away layer by layer under that nagging NEED.

"So…" Willow's conversation voice was more than welcome in that moment, and he pulled his attention away from those eyes. "It's been kinda nagging at me since we first met, what's the deal with the name 'Lovecraft'? I've searched everywhere for that name and nothing really popped up, no matter how obscure I looked. The closest I got was this crafting game Wayne Tech has in development, something about blocks or something. I don't really expect that to preform too well if you ask me."

Albert paused in thought, grateful to the much needed distraction. There was a lot to unpack there, in particularly the complete lack of The Father of Cosmic Horror presence in this world. Sure, not a lot of authors included him in any story-lines but they for sure used his work as inspiration. Take the famous Arkham Asylum, that a lot of the more deranged members of the Rogue's Gallery frequented, for example which was named after a fictional city invented by H.P. Lovecraft.

There were a lot of benefits to him if that person just didn't exist in this world, he wouldn't go as far as steal the man's work. Especially not with the type of system he had embedded in his being, none of those creatures beyond space and time were to be handled so carelessly. Less he start some of epidemic and wake up with cults busting down his door in belief that cracking his skull open would free their lords.

"I don' t think you would've heard of him." He would have to be careful but as long as he didn't ranting about eldritch gods, it shouldn't be a problem. "He was an obscure horror author that I read up on...some time ago. He feared people, feared the world and feared things he didn't truly understand. But most of all, I think he feared his own blood the most. And that fear allowed him to create stories that stick with me to this day."

"Does he have any work available?"

She asked, sending a rather intrigued eye his way.

"Sadly, no." Albert shook his head, already beginning to feel bad for this world. There were so many medias inspired by the man's fear that it culminated in some of the greatest movies, books and games of all time. And just to not have that same inspiration here almost made him feel a degree of pity for these poor, uncultured people. "I don' t think there's any of his works left in this world."

"Ah, a shame." Willow shrugged. "Since you're so passionate, why don't you tell me one? Just a short preview on exactly I'm missing."

"Are you sure we have enough time?"

"Yeah, you live very far away from Madame Clements. And plus besides, the more time we waste the more time she has to prepare the food. Which I can tell you, she will appreciate."

'Which story is safe to tell?' Most of HP Lovecraft's more iconic work like 'Dagon', 'The Dunwich Horror', or even the story he's most known for 'The Call of Cthulhu' were instantly cast aside. It just wasn't a safe thing to do, Albert even got the feeling that just switching out the names wouldn't help make the stories safer to tell. But cosmic horror wasn't all the author was known for, the name of the game in his era was Pulp Horror and most them should be fine to use.

"I should warn you, his writing style is kind of dry. Most of them are from the point of view of scholars or researchers so do tell me if it gets too boring for you."

"Sure will Lovecraft, don't worry. I'm not someone who keeps her opinions to herself. Go on, I'll stop you if I feel like shutting my eyes for a few z's."

"Okay," He took a steadying breathe, a story already coming to mind. "This story is called 'The Picture in the House'…." 1

****

"So wait." Willow spoke up for the first time in the tens of minutes it took for Albert to scrap the edges of his memories to actually remember every scrap of detail. And even then, he still had to fill a few blanks in. So honestly it was than more like that he hadn't done the story justice. Of course there were some...left than savory bits he left out in fear of getting his mouth washed out with soap. "Why the lightning in the end? Like was it from all the past victims of the sorcerer or something?"

"Uh I'm not really too sure," He shrugged. It was a common question after such a tale and there had been plenty of people on message boards arguing for years over that bit. "A lot of his work has a lot of unanswered questions, mysteries that he probably forgot about."

"Are some of his books connected? Sounds like a pretty good way to make an expanded universe just filled with this stuff."

"…." Again, it was like stepping around shattered glass. Sure he enjoyed seeing her become entranced by an author that heavily impacted his old world, but that in itself could be dangerous. "His earlier work? No. But in his later works, he actively encouraged other authors to write addons to his verse…. You wouldn't have heard of them either."

"Damn, that's a shame." The woman paused for a moment, drumming her fingers across the steering wheel before continuing. "But tell me this, what was up with the guy's magic system? Sure the old man some form of immortality but it seems like the ghetto version. Like he couldn't die from old age as long as he consumed the flesh of humans but that didn't seem to stop him from aging. It sounds pretty brutal all things considered."

'..You don't even know the half of it..'

There was desire. A burning need forming at the pit of his stomach to just go on a long speech on the intricacies of the Lovecraftian magic. All it's upsides and heavy downsides. But the taste of copper filling his mouth washed those desires underneath the table. He just didn't know how dangerous giving out such information would be, especially with the grimoire subsystem just idling in his being. And combine that with the unknown that was Madame Clements, letting out even a smallest hint of even theoretical magical secrets could possibly be very disastrous.

Given how curios the human mind tended to be, it was better to keep everything in the realm of pure fiction. And so after gulping down coppery spit, he answered after a few beats of silence. "HP Lovecraft had a very interesting relationship with the idea of immortality, only monsters could achieve such a status. Humans could devour the imperfect scraps, hence why all human immortals had terrible prices attached to them. Why inhuman creatures got it for free, and not just the semi-immortality that people strove for but some of them even had complete immunity to anything we could ever create."

"That doesn't seem fair but honestly the world isn't either so I shouldn't really complain, but I do gotta ask does all his versions of immortality involve cannibalism?"

"No, some require sacrifice, or by making some dark deal or even complex rituals."

"You sure I can't find his work anywhere?"

"Maybe if you looked hard enough."

In a different world.

While the conversation was a nice distractions, he wasn't lost in his own mind not to realize the sudden change in his environment. The usual smooshed together appearance Gotham had started to lose it's form as they drove, buildings spreading farther and farther apart. Patches of bright green growing for large stretches before being cut off my picketed fences. Even the road went from a rocky mess, that caused his bones to nearly jolt out of his skin with every pothole they flew over, to a road so smooth it made it seem like they were skating.

If that wasn't enough to clue him in, the sharp decline of people sure as hell did. If before there were an endless mass of shady people shuffling to and fro to whatever trouble they were going to get in that night, now the citizens he saw were much better dressed with not even a patch in sight. And even more hauntingly enough, he could even see a few smiles. If Gotham wasn't eventually an island, then he would've thought they had traveled outside the dower city.

'This must be the area where Angeline and her family lives.' While Albert hadn't even been to the blonde's home before, it was evident she came from money. Not dirty, filthy rich money but still wealthy enough to not live in the gutter that was the majority of Gotham. 'No wonder Marceline loves coming up her so much.'

It must honestly look like quite a site in the day time, but even now the streets looked safe enough to walk without a care the world. No casting side-eyes at anyone within arms reach, no clutching his wallet in a vice-grip nor even strolling around on a hair trigger. Sure, maybe if he actually tried to walk around as he was now in such a nice neighborhood the cops would definitely make it their business to throw a rat like him out of site of these nice folk.

"Nice isn't it?" Willow called out, her eyes in the review mirror dancing with mirth. "It didn't always use to look like this, you know? There use to be whole lot of buildings in a similar manner to downtown, but apparently some rich folks ran out of space on their little slice of paradise and graciously expanded. They marked down a boundary, kicked out all the street rats and knocked everything down. It took them a bit but eventually, it's like how see it now. Don't get me wrong, they still charge an arm and a leg to live here. But at least you don't gotta deal with the constant stream of bodies, you know? Plus besides, this place acts like a sort of barrier between the truly wealthy elites and the rest of us gutter trash."

'Bitter much?' It was pretty easy to bite back that venomous retort, especially with his own jealously reeling back it's ugly head. He just knew these people didn't have the same worries he had on a daily basis. They didn't have to worry about wrapping themselves up carefully in multiple layers of sheets and blankets at night because their heater was useless. Nor did they have to worry about some crackhead breaking into their home and claiming it as their own over the previous owner's cooling body.

But that was thing wasn't it? The grass would always look greener on the other-side, 'There are probably those that look at my patch ridden clothes and shoes with the same level of envy I have now.'

Albert could eventually get where these people are just by relying on the skills his system had to offer. He could become a wedding photographer and live just fine. Or an art appraiser. Or by developing his social skills to such a level that he would be dancing circles around even those that spent their entire life in the pursuit of wordplay or speech-craft. And with any of them, he could dine with the upper echelons of society, become a world shaker in the shadows.

But what happens when a planetary threat came a knockin'? Like Darksied or some other god-like entity obsessed with world domination and/or destruction? And he knew for certain the Justice League's chances of winning the first time round is going to be very minute. What use was his money to them? Maybe he could talk his way out of outright dying with the rest of his species but that would probably leave him as nothing better than a pet of sorts.

'Show me that trick once more,' He could already hear that cold voice echoing in his mind. 'And maybe I'll tell the Parademons not to eat your last finger.'

Comfort was nice and all, but making that his goal instead of it being a byproduct simply wasn't tenable. There were people in this world who could take all his wealth and there wouldn't be a single he could say in protest.

"Now that we're almost there," Willow's voice snapped him out of his ever spiraling thoughts with the ferocity of pulling back a rubber band to it's maximum point. "There are some things I must ask of you. Simple rules and what to expect."

"I'm all ears."

His only real interaction with Madame Clements was short and to the point, and turning down advice from someone who, theoretically, knew the woman would be the height of foolishness. And plus besides, he was already stuck in a pretty tough spot as is. Listening wouldn't hurt any.

"First, please do not tell anyone the location of this house. It's just one of Madame Clements many properties but given how….obsessive some of our clientele has been in the past with some of the girls, it'll be a pain to have to change locations."

Albert only nodded. So far, so good. Nothing too arduous, and hopefully all of them followed a similar pattern.

"Secondly, you will be required to disarm yourself at the door." And just like that, a cold pit fell through his stomach. Going into completely unknown territory without even a chance to fight out of, was the exact type of situation he would put his players in before they were drugged and whisked away to whatever messed up eldritch ritual. "I know what you're thinking and I understand but it's the rules. We have to keep our people's safety in mind…. Not all of them are like me. And I know no amount of promises or oaths from me will ever convince you, but just know this: Madame Clements would never harm a guest."

'Yeah right.'

She was right about one thing, no amount of sureties on their part would ever be enough to fully put his safety in their hands. It wasn't like having her as a bodyguard, there he could always at least try to flee if it turned out to be a trap. But here? He was truly isolated and unimportant enough where his disappearance did occur, the city would do nothing to investigate and only repossess his home. And given how far away he was from home, jumping out the car also didn't seem viable. There was no way he could outrun even the worse maintained vehicle with the a terrible driver missing an eye, but sadly this pair was neither.

All he could do was make sure that if he truly did go missing in the coming hours, bread crumbs would be left behind for anyone who gave a damn. And so, Albert pulled heavily upon Stealth. Swung it's heavy coat across his shoulder. Eyes locked forward, waiting for the moment he needed.

"Thirdly," Willow continued. "Do try to be courteous to our people. We don't ask you bow down to their feet or anything just don't be an absolute tool to the people there, I'm use to the passing derogatory comment but most of the girls there aren't."

Instead of answering verbally, he nodded silently. Hand lying flat against his thigh, already feeling the hard object jab under his palm.

'Not yet.'

"And fourthly," She murmured on and the teen could feel their speed drop into a casual drive as a single house came into view. "More for your own safety than ours, if you are ever left alone, do not go wondering. People actually live here and it would be rude to have some random poking around. Just because this is one of Madame Clements's properties, that doesn't mean it has anything valuable inside. This isn't like those movies, there are no secret passages or cubbies hidden behind a bookcase."

That warning went in one ear and out the other, if he was truly going to be disarmed then all bets were off. That reticent to poke his nose in places where it didn't belong would have to take a backseat tonight, anything he found during snooping could in fact be the only thing that got him out unscathed. But that could wait until he was actually inside, as the moment he was waiting for on the edge of seat finally came.

Those piercing eyes left him, returning to the road in that split instance as that house grew larger. That was the moment he slipped his hand inside his large pocket and pulled it out just a smidge. Just enough to see the screen and after scrolling through the admittedly short list, he had a bit of a conundrum to solve.

There were three contacts he could reach out to for a variety of differing results. Reaching out to Barbara of all people would be the truly nuclear option, with her connection with both the police and the Dark Knight it wouldn't take much to completely upend Madame Clements operation. With the catastrophic failure broadcasted to the world at large, the GCPD would be itching for any sort of win to avoid being defunded.

What Batman would do doesn't need to be mentioned. Unless some unknown potential love interest appeared in Madame Clements employ, then they were properly screwed.

So the red head was out, she simply didn't allow any form of flexibility. And on the opposite side of the scale, while he knew Marceline would certainly try to help if he were to go missing but there simply wouldn't be a lot she could do anyway. Sure, if the Madame truly was apart of the magical world kidnapping him rightfully piss off the Council. But given how she reacted last time, it wasn't expected a lot would be achieved. Sure she could report his disappearance but he suspected nothing would come of it.

That only truly left one option. The single wild card that could either damn him or provide him aid. Probably the only person in this city who wouldn't care about the consequences and just come out swinging that bat of hers. Frankly, he needed that bit of chaos right about now.

And so he sent her a short, to the point text.

"We're here."

Albert just hoped he actually didn't screw himself over.

1 The Picture in the House (1920) By HP Lovecraft is a pretty short story and is pretty pulpy. Don't go into it expecting any mention of any sort of eldritch creatures. Just some good ol'fashion cannibalism.