Cocoa Tales

Episode 25

With a resounding clang, darkness broke the room when the door opened and a figure was thrown inside. Floyd landed with a thud as the door slammed shut behind him, darkness overtaking his world. "All right," he said with a cough, "I punched the Storyteller. My mistake. Won't happen again, I swear."

He winced in pain as the light suddenly blinded him. His eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the light when he heard the sound of Monty Gerald's voice with quiet menace saying, "Welcome to my playroom, Detective Floyd."

On his knees in a room with a drain in the floor, Floyd turned a slow circle. Every wall was covered in bright red blood, still glistening in the light. Monty waited patiently as his prey took in the sights around him. He even smiled a bit as sweat began to build on Floyd's brow.

"Wow," Floyd muttered, "the Storyteller has taken it up a notch."

A large bald man Floyd mentally nicknamed Pludd picked up Floyd, lifting him clean off the ground and held him in midair.

"Where's Domino?" Monty asked.

"Where's what?"

"Domino," Monty stated. "Where is he? You know where he is. Make this easy on yourself and tell me where he is."

"So Domino is a person," Floyd stated.

Monty turned his back to Floyd and Pludd dropped him on the floor, the fall alone taking the wind out of him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Floyd gasped. "We're all being controlled by an idiotic, inept Storyteller, don't you get it, Gerald!? You can't even say bleep or bleep or bleeping bleep! He's the one in control!"

"Some of us," Monty said, "don't really mind so much right now."

Pludd picked Floyd up again and shoved him against the wall. It stuck to his face, a liquid slime that turned Floyd's stomach. He sucked in air, expecting the scent of copper.

It didn't meet his nostrils, however.

"Some of us," Monty continued, "have the Storyteller in our pockets."

Floyd opened his eyes, and he curiously sniffed again. "That smell," he said, "what is that?"

"The scent of blood, Detective," Monty said, although a slight tremble in his voice betrayed him.

"No, no, I know what blood smells like," Floyd said. "And I know what it looks like. It's darker than this, especially when it's been out of the body for a few minutes. This...it smells like...acetone?"

Pludd dropped Floyd to the floor and turned to Monty. "Sorry Boss," he said quietly, "I shoved him against the wrong wall."

Floyd tapped at the red on his face and then rolled it between his fingers. "It's paint," he said with a smirk. "You painted the room red?"

Monty was rubbing his temples and exhaling slowly through his nose.

"I thought that was the dry wall," Pludd said slowly. "Must've been the last one we painted, you know?"

Shouting at Pludd, Monty hollered, "Why can't you keep remember which wall you painted first!?"

Cowering away from Monty Gerald, Pludd's face curled as tears began streaming down his face. "I'm sorry, Boss, please don't yell at me!" And before Monty could respond he began scream-crying and ran from the room.

Slowly rising to his feet, Floyd said, "Well, guess I'll be leaving now."

"I still have a lot of power in this jail, Detective Floyd."

"Oh I'm sure of it. Any mastermind who can paint a room can certainly bring me down."

"I can still paint this room with your blood, Floyd."