CHAPTER 3: AT DEATH’S DOOR (ZOMBATO)

AT DEATH’S DOOR, DOWNTOWN, NEXERIA

“I see this place’s notoriety hasn’t changed.” Zombato says, entering his favorite bar in Nexeria: At Death’s Door. Looking around, he notices a variety of different drunk monstrum: the pale-looking undead zombies, the fiendish and beautiful incubi and succubi, the blood-drinking vampyres, varieties of different demons, the hulking dinosaur people of the saurcillians, the undersea creatures gilliarans, the furry and fierce wolfwalkers, the crafty little goblins, the ethereal phantasma, and other varieties. He sits down at the bar and orders his favorite, the Headless Horseman. It’s specifically great for zombies; it makes their flesh feel alive again.

“Zombato?! My good corpse, is that you? It’s been what a year since you were last here?” The fellow zombie bartender says with a smile. She makes the drink and puts in a slice of brains for him.

“Yeah, such unfortunance, not everyone perceives the whispers; actually have to go hunt down people. You know, stop plagues of evil, like the founder says. Nexeria is lovely though; it’s a second home for us.” He says, gulping down the drink. It tingles down what remains of his throat; as it slides down into his stomach it warms every inch of his internal organs that it touches. The remains of his heart beat again for a second, reminding him of the sensation of life.

Turning around to look closer at the people drinking away their pain; trying to hear if anyone has heard of the Deathborne. Everyone suddenly becomes silent as a news report appears on the TVs.

“Breaking News! We have a report that The Great Mine is collapsing. There were sounds of an explosion and it is currently on fire. The Great Mine is a big part of the Nexeria’s economy; it is unknown how the city will handle this significant loss. Witnesses saw a group called the Deathborne leaving the mine; we don’t know if they’re connected to the collapse, but we’ll have more details as they come.” A loud crash of a beer bottle splattering on the TV interrupts the news broadcast.

“Ugh, such dreck. The world’s over now. Let’s see if The Dusk Clave does anything about this.” The incubus miner shouts about his disdain.

This event is unfortunance. I doubt the Deathborne caused this, possibly stopped a threat near the mine. Who would want the Deathborne destroyed is my question? The client mentioned a mob, but why would they use outside help? Though he said if they exist, meaning this could be a secret mob or some other evil organization. I need more information on what else the city is dealing with before I chase phantasma. Zombato collects his thoughts.

Luckily, a bar full of depressed drunks is like a library with all the books open. He rips off his ears carefully, throwing them to two different sides of the room. Using his necromancy, he can still hear with his ears detached from himself.

"These Deathborne are assholes! I don't know what they are trying to do! First the bank, then the school, and now the mine! Nexeria will barely survive if these random attacks keep up!" A drunk vampyre shouts.

"You're not even scratching the surface of their atrocities; I can't believe some people stand with them. They think they're protecting us from some fictional mob! Nexeria is the best city of all! Stupid idiots thinkin' we're corrupt." A buzzed goblin taking constant gulps from his glass replied.

"Alright, we’re confirming details about the fictional mob, good. The Dusk Clave I need to look into any changes with them. Seems like The Deathborne’s reputation could be better, but nothing concrete they are the genuine cause of the atrocities. So far, so good. Let's see what the other ear can pick up?" Before he can focus on his other ear, a chair is slammed across his back, breaking into pieces from the impact. The recoil of the chair pushes Zombato forward.

His eyes glow with bright yellow energy that instills fear in the cyclops as it reaches into his soul.

“I will not stand for this assault. Now I could eat your brains if I wanted to, but you’d spoil my appetite. So be quiet and stop being a jealous, toxic masculine piece of excrement.” He lets go of the cyclops, watching him stumble to the ground and run away. Paying his tab, he walks out of the establishment. He leans against the outside wall of the bar.

OUTSIDE AT DEATH’S DOOR, NEXERIA

“Thankfully, I can still hear from this distance. I hope there are less distractions.”

“I don’t care what people say! The Deathborne are our saviors! They are exposing the Circle’s corruption! People need to believe in the Circle.” A drunk phantasma screams out at the top of his lungs.

“The Circle’s even infiltrated The Dusk Clave!”

“There he goes again about the Circle this and the Circle that. The Circle doesn’t exist, you daft fool!” The other patron, a stegosaurus saurcillian, near him says.

“Though The Deathborne has helped my business, so they can continue whatever the hell they are doing!” The hardware store owner, a black-furred wolfwalker, says, continuing to drink. Many other drunks shout Deathborne! Deathborne! Deathborne! Until a drunk steps on Zombato’s ear.

“Aargh, I hate when that happens.” Zombato moves off from the wall, regenerating his ears using his mageus powers. “Time to look elsewhere. Drunks only can give so much information.” He walks away from the bar.

“This Circle must be the name of the mob. They might just be rumors, or they might be what I’m looking for. I’ll have to look into them alongside the Deathborne.”