Bouncer

A short horror story I wrote a few months ago. It's about a new strip club bouncer, weird bosses, and spooky stuff.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”

           Elizabeth Murphy stood before her new place of employment, Scream Queens, as a look of utter disbelief and annoyance clouded her face.  It was a newly developed strip club, and one of the many in town, but the only one that would hire a female bouncer, and that’s what Elizabeth was there for.

           She exhaled slowly and padded up to the front steps. Two tiki torches lit the front door, which was settled underneath several red curtains, hung up theater-style. She reached for the door handle, but before her fingers grazed the bronze-colored surface, the door swung open. The smell of tobacco smoke and vanilla perfume poured out, led by a rush of hot, sticky air. The body that had pulled open the door was short, dressed in a black and white pin-striped suit, with a waxed head of hair and mustache to complete the look. Gomez Addams, Elizabeth guessed, was who this man was trying to portray.

           “Hello! You must be Ms. Murphy! The new bouncer! Welcome!” the short Gomez-esque man hollered up to her.

           “Uh, yes, that’s me, but “Murph” or “Elizabeth” will do,” she answered awkwardly, stepping into the club.

           “Alright, Murph! It’s a pleasure to meet you! I know the girls will feel much happier with some strong protection around here, and well, I’d actually feel safer as well, haha!” he beamed, clapping a hand to Murph’s forearm, as that was all he could reach.

           Murph smiled and nodded, and proceeded to survey the scene.

           The inside of the club was even more “horror-themed” than the outside. Fake cobwebs lined every surface, red and black tablecloths covered the tables and bar, smoke machines and plastic pumpkins were everywhere. But the most horrific had to be the dancers.

           The two dancers sitting on the side of the stage were painted head to toe in makeup.  One of the girls was drenched in fake blood, and what looked to be an open wound surrounded her neck. The other girl had the most beautiful braids cascading down her shoulders, but her body was covered in slash marks and incisions. Both girls were dressed in very risqué costumes, no more than open crop-tops and underwear, but that was to be expected since they were dancers in a strip club.

           Murph caught herself staring, and shook her head. She pulled her attention back to the owner, who had been watching her observe the club.

           “That’s Freddy and Carrie, my best girls,” he smiled. “And that’s also the best special effects makeup money can buy. But they suit the place, don’t you think?”

           “Oh yeah, they are pretty scary, in a sexy way, I guess,” Murph mumbled.

           “Well, they aren’t called Scream Queens for nothing! Take a better look around, I’ll get your paperwork from the back. We open in half an hour, so make it quick!” he called to Murph as he paraded towards the back office.

           “Oh! I almost forgot!” the owner stopped himself. “The name’s Marty Drake, but this week I’m Gomez Addams if you hadn’t already figured that out. We should get you a costume, too!”

           Murph glanced back to the dancers, and nervously rubbed the back of her neck.

           “I-I think I’m good, unless it’s, uh, company attire. People say I’m pretty scary as is, you know…”

           Marty’s smile didn’t falter, but he laughed at her suggestion.

           “You’re right! And you're dressed in black anyways; maybe dye the hair or something? Ginger isn’t that scary, but maybe you can be Chuckey!” he chuckled as he headed over to his office.

           Murph exhaled and ran a hand through her hair. She liked her hair, and if it wasn’t a requirement she wouldn’t be changing it. She decided to meet the dancers staffed for tonight.

           As Murph made her way to the stage, the blood-soaked dancer leapt onto the stage pole and began practicing.

           “Hey! You’re our new bodyguard!” the girl on the pole called while upside-down.

           “Yeah, that’s me, my name is Elizabeth Murphy, but you can just call me Murph.”

           The burnt girl stood to shake Murph’s hand.

           “I’m Abigail, but I go by Freddy here, like Freddy Krueger, and that’s Reannon, but here we call her Carrie.”

           “Oh, I get it now. I mean, the boss told me your stage names, but now I can place them. I-I’m not too fond of horror movies, but I know you guys. You’re characters, I know of them,” Murph stumbled out.

           Abigail giggled and smiled.

           “Well, it’s great to have you here, Murph. And if Carrie would stop spinning for one second she would say hello, too,” Abigail shot a look at her partner, who was now sliding down the pole in a fetal position.

           “What?! I like the pole! And I like you, too, Murph!” Reannon piped up from her position on the pole.

           “Thanks…” Murph smiled shyly. “Your makeup looks really good, Marty told me it was the best kind.”

           Abigail looked surprised, then giggled as she tossed her hair back.

           “Why thank you! I didn’t think anyone would notice a little mascara and eyeliner, but there you go!”

           “Oh, well, yeah it is nice, but uh….” Murph’s voice trailed off, as she felt too awkward to continue.

           After excusing herself from the dancers, Murph walked to the back area to meet with her  new boss and to hopefully finish the paperwork. She found the door marked “Boss” at the end of a dark hallway and knocked. No one answered. She knocked again, this time a little harder, but no one came to the door. She craned her neck to look at the stage, in case one of the dancers could assist, but they were both busy with the pole.

           “Well, I am an employee… Shouldn’t be too bad to just go in,” Murph said to herself.

           She slowly turned the door handle and gently push the door inwards. Instantly she could smell a foul odor, like candle wax mixed with sulfur. She ignored the complaints from her nose and pushed through. Inside the office, she was met with blood-red candles, pools of unknown liquids littering the floor, and piles upon piles of yellowing paper.

           “What the hell…?” Murph breathed, as she stepped gingerly around the pools, making her way toward the office chair.

           She grabbed the chair’s padded exterior and spun it around, but Marty wasn’t there. She glanced underneath the desk, but he wasn’t there either.

           Suddenly, a loud growl rumbled from behind her. She jumped at the sudden noise and spun around. A looming figure hovered off the ground, encased in broken light and smoke. She could identify within the silhouette a pair of horns, a long thick tail, and large clawed hands. Her eyes went wide as the figure lunged at her, but she ducked just in time. The figure crashed into the ground with a loud thud.

           While the thing with horns collected itself, Murph grabbed for the nearest object to defend herself. In the midst her heavy breathing and groping around, she managed to grab hold of an old-fashioned cane. She swung it in front of herself and held it out, like a sword, but she was trembling like a nervous Chihuahua. Murph was strong and brave, but she was still scared shitless.

           The creature finally lifted itself from the floor and spun around to face Murph. It growled and let out a long, deep chuckle.

           “What the f**k!? Mr. Drake?” Murph screamed. It was her boss, but he didn’t look like himself.

           Marty Drake ceased laughing, and rose up from the ground, holding is clawed hands upwards.

           “Oh yeah, baby, it’s me! Sorry, you had to see me this way, but this is how it’s done. This is your paperwork!”

           “Wh-what the hell do you mean? What’s wrong with you?”

           Marty tossed back his head in laughter.

           “Nothing’s wrong with me, Murphy! I’m as healthy as a horse! This is just the real me, ya know? And the only way I can seal your deal is like this, so get ready!”

           Marty lunged once more for Murph, but she instinctively swung the cane out, and it struck him on the chest, knocking him over and onto the floor. Murph struggled to her feet, but once she was standing she gripped the cane with all her might, brought it behind her head, and smashed the head of the cane into his shoulder. He screamed bloody murder.

           She yanked the cane from his body, blood dripping down the shaft, and his new wound squirted blood. Amidst his screeching Marty rose on all fours and lunged for Murph again. He lashed at her face, several claws raking into her cheek. She let out a shriek as the cuts grew and blood seeped from her flesh, but she opened her eyes and punched Marty in the face. He toppled back again, leaving Murph enough time to run out of the office.

           She tore down the hallway and out into the main room, where Abigail and Reannon were still on stage. They stopped what they were doing when they saw her run in.

           “Murph, are you okay? You’re bleeding!” Reannon exclaimed.

           “You two need to get out of here, now! Your boss is a f*****g demon and he’ll kill you! Go, now!” Murph yelled.

           “Oh, we know!” Reannon smiled. “He already killed us! I thought you knew.”

           “Yeah, that’s how we got the job, it’s what he does,” Abigail calmly explained.

           “What?! You mean you two are dead?! But-but how? You’re both breathing and talking and moving! Corpses can’t move!” Murph panted, worn out and beyond disbelief.

           “Well, he’s an all-powerful demon. They can do lots of things, like make dead people look and act alive. It’s pretty simple, really,” Reannon said matter-of-factly as she stood up from the stage.

           Before Murph could say anything more, the door to the boss’ office exploded off its hinges. Smoke poured out of the room, and Marty came sprinting out. Murph screamed and ran for the front door.

           “Aw, come on, Murph! He’s not that bad, really!” Abigail called to the bouncer.

           But Murph was already outside. She sprinted down the street and ducked behind a parked car. Once behind some shelter, she collapsed on the pavement, exhausted and terrified. She looked back at the strip club, just to make sure Marty Drake or any of the dancers weren’t following her. After catching her breath, she hightailed it down the street.

           “That’s it, I’m never taking a bouncer job again.”

Author's Note

UPDATE: I changed a few things. Going back to all my old writing now that I've taken creative writing in college.
I got rid of the "aesthetic" page break, rewritten a few parts that I didn't like anymore, and cleaned up the grammar. Also, I changed the audience, but please let me know if I should put it back to Mature.
The protagonist, Murph, is Minnesotan but she tries to hide her accent. I'm not sure if that comes across in this piece, but its hard to write without adding the stereotypical Minnesotan vocabulary.
I'll be featuring the updated version in a collection of sci-fi, horror, and fantasy short stories. I'm even binding the book myself!