The Grind House/The Crimson King. Keith Craig as GM

Setting: 1984 in New York.

Hook: You are group of friends that heard about an exclusive goth club, The Court of the Crimson King, from your friend Vanessa Lebraun, who raved about the drugs and loose morals. 

Angel Abyssmal (Thom): Goth Male Escort

Skyler ‘Skulls’ Teller (Morgan): Musician

Agnes Pennysmith (Bill): Artist.

Damon Bates (Dakota): Actor.

Guy Herring (Finbar): Aussie Bartender.

Where’s Vanessa? “Anyone know what’s going on?” “It’s been 5 days since we last heard from Vanessa and her invite. I thought she was picking us up.” “Fuck if I know; I’m just following you guys.” “Damon, what the fuck are you wearing? Cowboys?! You need goth lessons.” “Hey, it is all about standing out. And cowboys in a goth club WILL stand out.” Skulls speaks up, “She might be hung up at the museum where she works. Let’s head over there.”

At the New York Museum, where Vanessa works as a clerk, they definitely stand out in their all-black attire. “Vanessa? Haven’t seen her for a few days. Monday she looked so haggard. Kept missing meetings throughout the day. Boss thought her sick and sent her home.” Guy already betting, “Ten bucks says she’s smacked on the couch.” Agnes agreeing, “That’s no bet. She said they were dealing drugs at the club. She probably filled her purse. Let’s just walk on over and wake her.”

Not the best of neighborhoods; a bum sits on the stoop with his hand out, “Hey, got a dollar, I’m thirsty. Then how about a cigarette.” Funny that Angel calls him a bum when he just bummed a cig and light from Skulls minutes earlier. As they go on up to room 502, Agnes pauses to stare at the hall’s rusted fire-hose nozzle. At the door, Skulls even notices the handle also rusted with pits. “I know the place is rundown, but I don’t remember it this bad.” With the door locked, impatient Angel kicks it in. All are blasted by a cloud of red dust. Skull steps in and notices an envelope on the kitchen counter. She also notices a black leather outfit laid on the floor, “Damon, now’s your chance to dress goth.”

There is another pile of dust in the bathroom. Agnes checks the closet for shoes, “Her knee-high boots are still here. And those are the only goth ones she owns. Unless she scored at the club.” 

Skulls checks out the envelope, “Here are the five tickets to the club. She must have grabbed her own and left.” Angel already dismissing their friend, “Tickets and address; we don’t need Vanessa. She’s probably already there.” Agnes tries to confirm by checking the pockets on the outfit on the floor, which only stirs up another cloud of red dust from underneath. Guy covers his nose and helps himself to the costume jewelry Agnes pulls from the pockets and lays out.

As they turn to leave the apartment, they can’t help but notice the firehose in worse condition… the hose itself almost dry-rotted. Laughter erupts at Guys take, “This doesn’t look up to code.” Angel compares it to “the dick of the last old man I went out with. Not as big though.” As they make it outside, they are surprised it now dark, the moon already risen. “Geesh, it was barely dusk when we went in 5-10 minutes ago.” The bum still there but now with a paper-bag bottle… which Angel takes and chugs. “Wait, you can afford your own. You inside for hours and now…” All exclaim, “Wait, what? Hours?” Damon checks his watch, “Bullshit. Like I said, 10 minutes max. Damn drunk!”

As they walk toward the club, just in their peripheral vision, Angel and Agnes raise their eyebrows at the impression cars zooming past 50-60 mph on the residential street. Yet when they actually look, traffic-jam type speed and realization there was no doppler sound to accompany the zooming cars. Agnes wondering when she last took one (or more?) of her mild LSD tabs. And Angel asking for one to clear his headache.

They arrive at the club in an obscure back alley; the red-crown sticker on the door the giveaway. The slider view opens at Angel’s knock. The rhythmic thumbing of band music spills out. Deadbolt locks release when tickets shown and they are let in. The large bouncer, in S&M gear, welcomes them. An impressive build that only invites Angel’s bumm squeeze as Frank hands out tickets, “Two punches by any staff and you’ll be invited back… with friends.” He punches the one he gives to Angel, “I’ll see you later when I’m off shift.”

Inside, the music is quite loud… as expected. As well as the smothering aroma of cigarettes, alcohol, weed, and sweat. The club layout itself is an old factory basement with interspersed support pillars, circular steel tables surrounding the center dance-floor, with wooden booths along a far wall providing private “canoodling”. The walls basic black. Onstage, the bandmembers wear sack cloths over their heads.

The background a mockery painting of DaVinci’s The Last Supper. The current 80 patrons barely fill a quarter of the club. Guy already making his way to the bar, “One Rye. Neat.” The bare-chested bartender, in leather shorts, with red-mask covering his eyes, acknowledges him and the others who followed, “First time here? You came on a good night. The band is performing well. Got a new singer.”

Angel orders a non-menu item, “You know how to make a Brain-Hemorrhage? If I knew what was in it, I wouldn’t be asking. OK, how about a Godfather?” Even Guy doesn’t know how to make it. And Damon adds to the confusion, “Can I get a Royal-Fuck?” Which only entices the bar-tender, “Anything you want, Cowboy. As for you others, I’ll read up on your drinks and have them ready when you are invited back.”

Agnes makes her way to the dancefloor when she sees someone handing out acid-tabs, “I’m hoping you got something to inspire creativity. You know, paint the town or in this case, the drab walls.” The dealer offers, “I got acid or angel-dust; what cha got in trade? 2-for-1? OK, if you’ll show me your two.” Agnes unzips her leather top. [CON check-pass] It’s not long before Agnes gets a light buzz as she now sees the mural behind the band come alive with motion. She scans the dance floor, noticing a few patrons melting in and out of existence. “Now this is what I was hoping for.”

Grant Wood’s ‘American Gothic’

Frosh B’s ‘American Flesh’

She tries to use the visual distortions as inspiration to mentally paint faces on the bagged bandmembers but comes up with recreations by Frosh B’s ‘American Flesh’ of artist Grant Wood’s ‘American Gothic’.

Meanwhile, Damon moves closer to the stage. [Psychology- 01] While this band is extremely competent, it seems to be going thru the motion. One member actually chewing on his lip to the point it bleeds. Damon comments to someone nearby, “They seem bored.” The patron suggests, “Open your mind up. They are quite good. They are the owner’s favorite band. Stick around, the scene picks up later in the night.”

Angel also leaves the bar to start working the room, looking for anyone remotely attractive. Discrete in his introduction, “Wanna fuck?” His third contact takes him up on it, “Let’s move to a private booth.” [POW check-pass] Long minutes till Angel shakes off a drowse, “feeling drained.” [ba-dump-pa] His partner absent. And a few drops of blood on the tablecloth. Only then noticing a cut on his wrist… natural instinct to lick the wound. Concerned he was stiffed, Angel checks his wallet and finds the agreed $50 price.

At the same time, Skulls and Guy begin searching the room for Vanessa. They make a couple of loops around the room, almost certain she not here, when Guy notices the bouncer absent from the door. He steps to the door thinking maybe Vanessa on her way. In fact, when he hears a knock at the door, he opens the slider in hopes she on the other side. He slams it shut when he only sees strangers. He notices Agnes on the dancefloor and approaches to slap her back, knocking her back into reality. “Not so hard!” Guy uneasy, “There’s something off about this place. I need a drink.” Yet the bartender is absent, and Agnes suggests, “Now’s your chance. Step in and get your funk on.” Sure enough, he slides over the bar, clearing the countertop of empty glasses with his hips, and begins serving waiting patrons. “Little bit of a switch up in the staff here, what can I get cha?”

Skulls becomes frustrated at the absence of Vanessa. Which only turns him off to the club atmosphere. He moves to the door and only then notices the bouncer’s outfit laying on the floor. No naked hulk wandering the dancefloor. Skulls opens the door to step outside and is confronted by other waiting patrons. He lets them in without concern as he blocks the door open and steps out for a smoke. As he looks around, he notices the moon has moved further than expected in this short time. “Damn, and I haven’t had any drugs.” He wanders back inside where he sees Angel talking to a tall man. Ignoring Agnes obviously blitzed, Skull goes to the bar to check with Guy.

Angel forgets the last encounter and realizes he just wants to please himself. He wanders the crowd for someone special. Not a customer. He finds the man he’s looking for [APP99], and makes a beeline, “I’m new here. Really like the place… the art, the music, the vibe. How about yourself?” “Are you enjoying yourself? I am Nazaratus. I haven’t seen you before, but something tells me I know you. I’ve been around a long time.” Angel confesses his interest, “I came looking for customers but realize I just want pleasure for myself.” Nazaratus confesses, “I’ve been here many times. In fact, I am the owner. I found the mystery of the place draws the customers I seek. Vanessa? A fascinating woman. Did she come with you? No? I’m sad, she left a wonderful taste on my lips.”

It’s not long before Damon grows bored with the band and wanders off to find others to mingle with. He sniffs some ‘coke’ on his sleeve to fit in. The rush perks him up to notice the guy he thought Angel was with, hitting on another patron and leading them toward a back room. He follows down the hall. 3 doors on the right, the one on the left probably a fire exit. At the first door, he hears moaning… pleasure and pain. He reflects it more to Angel’s taste. Not wanting to be “a cock-block”, he moves on to the next door where he hears a “Thump” of something heavy hitting the floor. Followed by a “Burp” before someone moves toward the door. Damon hides in the shadows as a man comes out, dressed in a tuxedo and tall hat, wiping his mouth. He smiles at Damon as he continues toward the main room. Damon cannot resist peeking into the room [POW fail- 2d6=5; INT fail thus no BOM] The door swings shut, leaving Damon trying to comprehend what he say… some kind of performance art? A body on the floor, ribcage cracked over, with a woman bent over gnawing on the heart. “Naw, she was doing stretching while eating an apple over her customer.”

Meanwhile, Guy realizes he is stepping in something sticky on the floor behind the bar. Agnes already complaining at his service, “I ask for a Slippery-Nipple and you give me a Blowjob.” Guy threatens with brass knuckles, “Just give me one of your tabs.” He pours really cheap alcohol and drops the tab, “Drink this.” Agnes accepts… and fails CON as she’s mixing hallucinogens, alcohol, and acid. Everything spinning, the bottles seem to have eyes. She looks over at the dance floor and spots a 3ft tall kid wrapped in bandages touch the pant legs of a staff member. Who collapses into a heap of empty clothing. [SAN pass, loose 1d6=1] “That’s a hell of a disappearing act.”

With a lull in customers, Guy looks at the floor at his feet, realizing he’s stepping on the bartender’s mask. He picks it up, noticing the bartender’s shorts also under the bar along with red dust. Guy runs his fingers thru it before calling over a customer. “What do you make of this?” She leans over the counter, “Looks like you need to sweep. The barkeeps pants? You mean he’s streaking?” Guy looks up when Skulls arrives commenting, “Man, the owner must save on labor as the staff seems absent.” Without saying anything, Guy just points to the floor and the dusty shorts. Which prompts Skulls to go back and check out the bouncers clothing, also dusty. “Definitely weird! Even the employees don’t want to stick around.” Guy already uneasy, “This place gives me the creeps.” Skulls looks around, “Where the hell is Damon?!” Guy grabs a full bottle before heading out to find their friends.

Angel is now fully focused on his date who prides himself on his band, “The bags add a bit of mystery. Besides, who wants to look at ugly bandmembers.” Angel confesses, “I’m not trying to suck up; I was attracted to you from across the room. Are you attached? Maybe we could meet up outside the club. Yes? Cool. Are there nights you are not open? Sunday nights? Sounds like a date.” They exchange cards, “I certainly ain’t going to church on Sunday. I’ll be back; need to check up on my friends.” Angel shakes hands with the intent to pass along a personal message of interest. He heads on over to Skulls and Guy, “Where’d the bartender go?” Skulls says, “Probably the same place the bouncer went. Both leaving their cloths behind, with piles of dust like we found in Vanessa’s apartment.” Angel takes a closer look as Agnes arrives asking, “Another set of empty clothing? You guys see that kid over there by the table? That one with the pile of cloths at the chair.” They ignore the drugged artist as they are more interested, “Anyone know where the hell Damon is?”

As Damon follows the man back towards the main room, he immediately makes eye contact with a tall man coming his way. Even Damon has to admit him the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, probably a supermodel. Nazaratus asks, “Where are we going my friend? Where you invited back there?” Damon stutters, “I was just following others. I saw a suggestive look. Sorry, I didn’t realize I needed to be invited.” Nazaratus offers, “Perhaps you’ll join me in a private room. You smell the best of all I’ve met tonight. Cologne? No. more like a stress. You need to find your friends? Then perhaps later. You stay nervous, I like that smell. I’ve got an appointment, I’m hungry.” Damon warns, “Stay clear of Chimichangas.”

All meet back up. Angel explains the weirdness, “Agnes says there’s a little dwarf touching folks who then disappear.” Each explaining their personal encounters: Angel’s arm cut from his first hookup. Damon describing the woman eating an apple off a man’s chest, and the supermodel, Naz. Angel announcing him the owner, “He’s HOT. Versatile, so I can imagine why you too taking a second look. Geesh Agnes, your eyes are SO red. How much have you taken tonight?!” Agnes happy with her status. Skulls not, “This place is weird. Like Guy said, I like what’s going on with the place. It’s décor. But… where the hell is the staff?” Damon not impressed with the music, “Kind of boring.” Angel defends his love interest, “Naz hired them. His kind of music and by god mine too! Atmosphere. But hell, if you want, Skulls, get up on stage and help out.” Now Skulls defensive, “What? I thought we came here to have fun. Not to work. Everything around here seems to be self-service.”

As they continue discussing what to do next, Guy catches a glimpse of a staff-member near the door, looking around puzzled, before pulling out a padlock to secure the door. Damon notices Nazaratus step on stage and up to the microphone. “I want to thank everyone for coming out. This is a special night. We’ll have a special buffet. But first, we need a little seasoning.” At his nod, a staff-member turns a spigot that showers a red, sticky liquid from the overhear fire-suppression sprinkler system.

[Spot Hidden] And that’s when Angel and Guy notice the 3ft tall creature standing in the center of the dance floor, covered in red, touch someone who collapses into a pile of empty clothing and a spew of red dust! Agnes points out with glee, “There’s the kid I was telling you about.” [SAN check- pass, 1d6]. Angel [loses 6 but fails INT] jumps up on stage to get away from the thing, while Guy [loses 2] retreats to the bar. Agnes [having failed her SAN, 2d10=11 which is 20%] suddenly becomes blind [BOM] which she interprets as just another phase of hallucinations. Skulls is more concerned about being locked in, “What the fuck?!” Damon, remembering the exit in the rear rooms, tells the others, “Fuck the locked door. There’s an exit down that hallway.”

Angel stands on-stage beside Nazaratus. [POW- fail= Enthralled] Naz gives him a large kiss, and orders, “Bring your friends to the back room.” Angel calls the others, “Guys, Agnes, follow me!” Angel grabs Agnes’ hand to lead her off the dance floor. Guy checks under the bar counter for a weapon before following Angel with a club and cleaver in hand. Guy becomes suspicious as he grabs Agnes in a fireman carry. Angel calls, “Skulls, Damon! Follow me.” Only then does he realize there are less people in the club. As for Skulls, he tries to get out the front door, but the new bouncer stops him. Skulls fights back with his switchblade. Both swing and miss.

Toward the hallway, Nazaratus seems confused as he directs Angel, “Take them to the last room where they will be safe. Have you seen the rest of my staff?” Upon seeing Naz, Guy resists, “Uh, no.” He turns to leave. With incredible speed [DEX100], Naz charges Guy who tries to fight back, hindered with Agnes over his shoulder. Nazaratus’ fingers turn to claws that puncture Guy’s chest. He drops Agnes with a “Thump” on her back. Still enthralled, Angel seems unconcerned for his friend’s injury. Damon takes in the fight scene… and bolts past for the exit he knows. Except the 2^nd door opens and a woman steps out to confront him. [POW-pass] Damon resists, “Not today sister!” Except she slashes him with her own claws.

As Agnes stands and dusts herself off, unaware of what has happened, Angel directs her, “Run for the last room on the right.” Nazaratus more direct, “TAKE her into the room!” Agnes recoils, “Hey, I’m not into threesomes.” Angel explains, “I’m just trying to get you out of harms way. Your little dwarf is disintegrating people back on the dance floor.”

Back at the front door, Skulls continues to fight and slashes the man’s chest. But instead of blood, bugs boil out. {SAN 99- 1d4=4] The man tries to grab Skulls’ hand only to force the blade up his chest. The man collapses, falling apart.

As soon as Angel mentions it, Naz reacts, “Little man? Where?” Angel admits, “Agnes was the first to see him.” Naz reaches for Agnes, but even in a drugged state, she dodges. Naz now looks around with concern. Angel now seems concerned for Guy, “There’s bandages in the last room.” But Guy instead swings at Naz. Angel tries to prevent such, grabbing his arm. While he prevents Naz getting hit, Angel takes the wound instead. “Don’t hit him! He’s trying to save us.” Too drugged to feel any pain, Agnes pulls out a 3-inch nose pin and tries to stab Naz. Once again, Angel interrupts the attack, taking the hit instead. Lucky, only an inch of the pin sinks into his arm. Concerned for his lover, Angel tries to direct Naz toward the back room and safety from his friends. Naz uses Angel more as a shield. Meanwhile, Damon is wailing away against his attacker, “You bitch!” His fist plows into her nose. Back at the front, Skulls opens the door and steps into daylight. “What the fuck? We weren’t in there that long.” Skulls walks home.

[Luck between Guy and Agnes penalized] Guy feels a pain in the back of his leg as he suddenly ages 500 years and crumbles to dust. Agnes can’t help but see… [SAN failure but already Indefinitely Insane]… she sees Damon trying to punch her favored artist, Salvador Dali. “What the hell? I’m coming Dali.” She charges with a clay sculpture blade. Damon fails to see the attack… even drugged, Agnes hits. Now Damon realizing the two-pronged attack, “To hell Agnes, you’re dead to me!”

Naz in a panic, uses Angel as his shield. But Angel willingly assists, “We need to get out. Through the front door. I’ll protect you from that thing.” While Angel expected to lead the way, Naz carries him as frontal shield, chest to chest, dick to dick. Even when Naz bites Angel’s neck, “Take whatever you need.”

In the background, Damon dodges and bolts for the exit door, that doesn’t budge at his collision. Agnes proud she has saved Dali, who leans down to kiss her in thanks. The kiss being long teeth that sink into her throat, ripping out her larynx. Blood pools where Agnes collapses. The vampire woman on her knees lapping it up. Damon in a frenzy to bust open the door. Fuck the broken collarbone, he finally escapes into the daylight. His last glimpse is the short creature touching the vampire woman who shrieks in pain as she collapses into dust.

Naz batters the front door with Angel as they stumble into the alley bathed in sunlight. Fear crosses Nararatus’s face as his skins begins to burst into flame and melts. Angel also burned but struggles to put out Naz’s flames. He succeeds in pulling his vampire lover into the shadows. Paranoia: everyone is out to get him.

EPILOGUE

Angel fully aware of what has happened, bites Naz’s neck (with his human teeth) to himself become a vampire. Weeks pass before Skulls and Damon hear rumors about a new club, Vlad The Impaler, open for business.

BACKGROUND: THE CREATURE

Quachil Uttaus (The Treader of the Dust), is a Great Old One who can reduce all living tissue he comes into contact with to dust. Thus, its association with age, death, and decay. It is noted for the acceleration of time that occurs in its presence. Appears as a mummified humanoid with withered, bone-thin arms and unnatural, ever-grasping hands. Also known as "The Ultimate Corruption". It may have been known in ancient Egypt as Ka-Rath, "The Keeper of the Dust".

The Treader has been hunting Nazaratus for ages. It knew Naz in the city but not where. Till it saw Vanessa at the museum with bite marks on her wrists. Thus, it followed her home hoping to encounter Nazaratus. Thus, the aging on the apartment house fixtures. It settled for killing her. And that’s when the others arrived. And it followed them. Thus, the time distortion around them.

The band members were blind and thus doomed to play as directed.