Black Market Merchant

Alan's eyes adjusted to the poor lighting inside of the Skull’s base. Smoke permeated the air, stinging the new arrivals eyes and throats. Their body functions soon adjusted after a few stifled coughs and they moved further inside following a wide tiled hallway. Though the smoke was annoying it served a unique purpose.

Guards had been placed all around in blind spots, so that those upon entering couldn't see them right away due to the combined smoke and low lighting. For example, at the entrance a pillar was on either side of the doors, behind the pillars, in the smokey gloom, two guards on each side stood at the ready. Dressed in bone made armor and glaring through human skull masks, they gave off an imposing attitude to onlookers. They were the men directly under the Eyes and Heads influence. No Hand could command them unless directly said too by the Eyes or Head.

The arriving group ignored them, after all, they were on the same side and had been here multiple times before. Wall torches lit the way casting flickering shadows all around the hall as the drafty wind tossed them about. Their footsteps echoed on the tile flooring and no one spoke a word the entire time. Soon they arrived at the first lobby.

The lobby was circular in design and had three other hallways branching off from this point. In the center of the room, where a fountain should have been, was replaced by a large fire bowl. This was the source of most of the hallway smoke. Here at least six bone guards stood, silent and motionless in plain view around the room.

"The meeting is at the center of the base." Steel Fist said breaking the silence. "I think everyone of importance is going to be there. Even some of our clients, I heard, might also be attending."

Alan raised an eyebrow. "Really? Then it might not be about starting the skirmish. This is probably something bigger."

"No, I think it might still be about what you did, but there is something bigger going on for sure." Steel Fist replied as the group started to split up. Two Finger ranked men also were coming with Steel Fist, the twins Fletcher and Femur.

The men not going with Steel Fist turned down the left hallway, where labeled above said, "Food Court". While the remaining six went on straight ahead towards the center of the base. Along this wider hallway were shop rooms that had been converted into various storage rooms, weapons forging rooms, housing, and recreational areas for the Skull members and families. Almost every room on every hallway, excluding the entrance halls, was converted for the Skulls use. The base was more like an underground village, crammed into a large mall.

The only other area not converted for Skull families was the central area of the building. Here was where the Head conducted his rulings, meetings and where the Skull gangsters gather to hear his orders for raiding rituals. Unlike the once modern design and materials that the rest of the mall was made of, this area was converted into the cult-like flare that became the core of what the gang was named by.

Walking into this gathering area always made Alan feel something in his chest every time he came here. He couldn't describe it properly in words, but if he could it might be "Control". Everything here no longer resembled the modern world outside and had been conformed to the Skull’s display of power.

The area was a huge and perfectly round domed room. Four main hallways converged at this very spot. Three floors above the main floor mirrored the main floor by design perfectly. Far above the ground was a glass dome made of colored orange, black and blue glass forming a giant maple leaf backed by the sky. This glass decoration, the symbol of the Maple Valley town, had survived all the bombings and time itself up to this point, a rarity that even the Skull respected. It was the only feature of the mall building that remained untouched.

However, that was nothing compared to the cause of Alan's odd emotions. The meeting area floor had been cleared of everything, even the tile flooring. All that remained was the bare earth and sandy dirt long ago covered by the building. The pit was two meters lower than the rest of the floor hallways, creating an arena like appearance. Only a single set of stairs led down into it on both ends of the pit. That is where things were just starting to seem unique to the Skull gang.

Lining the stairs and going down into the pit was a line of skulls on poles, of which were made of femurs and four human feet bones supported them from below. The skulls had the heads smashed in, then filled with slow burning oils. The oils were then lit to create a fearful, hell like display as the fire also shot out from their eye sockets and cracked head.

Hanging above the pit’s center and glowing in the light of the maple leaf, was a chandelier held up by chains and formed of complete human skeletons. Wax candles were covering the bones and constantly dripped down on everyone in the pit below at random intervals. Always to remind them that with every hot drop, that they too would end up dead and if before their natural time, soon joining the bones all around them.

In between every torch was a Skull bone guard that radiated a threatening aura. These were the best of the best, and some would say evenly matched to the Hand ranked members in terms of combat skills. They were defined by a headdress of blood-stained feathers and necklaces of teeth, both beast and human. Carrying weapons of their choice, they displayed a variety of deadly, cult like weaponry.

The torches led right up to a throne stage, built out of nothing, but human bones. The exact number might never be known, but it was rumored among the Skull gang that every rival gang member, everyone that stood up to the Skull and even those that tried to claim the leadership role of the Head were piled on there. Even the stairs leading up to the top were made of the ominous bones.

Atop the massive pile was an even more bazar sight. Long before the bombs dropped on the town, a Natural History tour was going on and a bone exhibit was put on display here. In that exhibit were two Saber-tooth Tigers and a Mammoth skull. Those bones had been claimed and fashioned into the very throne that the Head sat on. The Mammoth served as the seat, while the Tiger skulls and bones were fashioned into the arm rests. Anyone that saw this place for the first time knew of the cultic fear.

At the foot of the pile and throne standing on either side, were the Eyes of Skull. One man and one woman, each of whom were frightening by their own right. The male Eye was known as Black Fang, the strongest of all Skull. The African American was a giant, standing at two point two meters tall and weighing one hundred thirty-six kilograms, he was the undisputed Champion on the Skull. To make matters even more impressive, he used no weapons for any of his fights, only his fist and feet.

Yet, Black Fang was not the most outstanding of the two. It was the female Eye, Deaths Peace, that drew the most attention. Her tattoo covered body had no natural-colored skin left on her anywhere, not even the eyes which were tattooed black as night. Her side shaven hair was dyed a shocking fluorescent green, as well as her eyelashes and eyebrows the same color. Her ears and bottom lip were gaged with disks the had a large eye drawn on it. On the rest of her body, anywhere that could be pierced, had been. The shiny piercings on her powerful appearing body shimmered in the firelight. Anywhere that had no piercings was strapped with an ornate throwing dagger, her favorite weapon of choice and torcher.

Sitting proudly, powerful, and with an expression of man that calls himself a god, was the Skulls leader. Daivat Bellona, the one known as simply the Undertaker.

His age was unknown, but from his appearance, one could guess he was apparently middle aged. His hair was naturally born white, like snow. In contrast his dark tan skin, mixed with the anatomically correct skeleton tattoos on his bare chest, arms and legs, made the hair appear all the brighter. His expression appeared to always be stuck with a light, proud smile which added to his regal appearance. Atop his head was a headdress of gold feathers and adorned in the middle was a skull with blond hair still attached.

The skull once belonged to his first wife, that he caught cheating on him. The headdress shows to all how he felt when betrayed by her. The wife he has now knows not made that mistake ever. True terror irradiated from the Head on top of this throne.

Alan knew that as he was now and going up against whatever Spirt Animal that Undertaker possessed, his own Bald Eagle Spirit would be unable to beat such a beast. A drop of sweat dropped down his back as the six men walked down the stairs to pay respects to their leader. As Steel Fist had guessed no other Hands or other people had arrived yet, as they were early.

"Rise, my Hands." The calm smooth voice of Undertaker called to the men kneeling before him. His voice almost sounded like that of a much younger man but didn’t affect the authority he wielded.

Only Alan and Steel Fist stood up. The other four wisely remained kneeling. Looking up into the steely gaze of their leader, Alan couldn't quell his worry. The Undertaker was already looking directly at him.

"Bone Flayer, before the main meeting, I shall discuss what transgression you have committed. Your, overzealous, actions for breaking the peace with the Mad Dogs shall be punished, yet you will be spared death just this once." Undertaker then nodded at Black Fang.

Without a sound, Black Fang walked over to Alan and stood over him while looking down at him as if Alan were an ant. Before Alan could discern what the hulking man intended to do, Black Fangs knee was already displacing his guts. Every ounce of breath was knocked from Alan and a look a shock rattled his body. Before he could fall to the earthen ground Black Fang seized him by the nape of his neck and punched him yet again in the stomach. The second blow nearly knocked Alan unconscious as he was raised off the ground by the impact, his vision blurred and faded. He didn't even recall hitting the ground.

As he fought for breath, Alan could only listen to Undertakers next words. "Now that that’s over with, I will say that your actions didn't actually ruin very much, that's why your life was spared. Ultimately, that peace was going to be broken tomorrow anyway." Undertaker said letting a sadistic expression show on his face. "Things have changed in our favor! But I am getting ahead of myself. That news I shall explain in the main meeting. Now both of you take your places." Undertaker said waving them away.

Steel Fist silently obeyed and walked over to Alan still fighting to breath, picked him up to tuck Alan under his arm like a child and carried him to the area where he was to attend the meeting. Then, without showing much care, he dropped Alan onto the sandy ground in a small puff of dust. Stone and Hemlock stood next to Alan, still gasping on the ground, unsure how to respond to the situation.

As time went on the room soon filled with the other Hands, local leaders and members related to the Skull by association or trade. Alan had regained his breath, but the pain in his body racked him so much he couldn't stand straight. Yet Alan could tell that whatever was going to happen next was sure to be huge and now that his punishment was over excitement slowly rose within him.

Within the hour the sandy pit and railings of the three floors were now mostly filled. There was a light buzz of people talking around the room, but not so much that it would annoy Undertaker. Suddenly, Undertaker raised his hand slowly. The room fell as dead quiet as the bones around them. All eyes transfixed on the Undertaker.

Opening his mouth, giving a hungry smile, Undertaker utter one sentence. "War is coming and we shall trample all that oppose us, so says the Soothsayer!"