Bombshell Dolly Nail

"Thank you," I said and proceeded through the door.

The door snapped shut behind me, locking me in a fancy corridor. Two gold chandeliers hung low down the center of the room. The walls were lined with hundreds of picture frames that held textured glass. The glass was so distorted it looked frosted. I stared at them in confusion for a moment, then the obvious dawned on me. I had to look at them through the opera glasses. I did and gasped. The glass cleared to reveal disturbing photos of nude corpses, both men and women. Some of the bodies were cut open like Rose. The main thing they had in common was their beauty.

It was a macabre gallery. The images grew worse as I moved down the hall towards the far door. One of the last images was a beautiful blonde woman skewered on five medieval swords. She was facing up with her limbs spread wide. Swords rose from the ground to stab through each thigh, arm, and her throat. The finishing touch was the cut from her breast bone to her groin. I had enough of the disturbing images and was about to look away, but a familiar smile caught my attention from the frame above it. I gasped to see Rose's smiling face as she lay gutted on the floor at the Dahlia Hotel. The picture must have been taken seconds before she died, and she was fucking smiling.

My stomach felt sick as I lowered the opera glasses and stepped away from the distorted images. My mind was racing to understand what I had seen. I had seen a lot of horrible shit during the war, but this was worse. This gallery was created for people that enjoyed looking at horrific images. I looked at the door to my left, knowing I had to continue if I wanted answers. A little plaque on the door read, "Cloaks required beyond this point." I swallowed the acid rising in my throat, tied on my cloak, and pushed the door open.

The next corridor was the same shape, but instead of photos, it had inset frosted windows. Cloaked figures were standing in front of the windows, peering into them with opera glasses, so I did the same. A gasp of horror froze in my throat at the scene behind the glass. The corpse of a beautiful redheaded woman was lying on an examination table. Her legs were in stirrups while her slender arms dangled off the sides. Her long hair was hanging off the back of the table like a curtain. Her lifeless gray eyes gazed at the ceiling while numerous men in cloaks touched her breasts and kissed her pale skin. I almost vomited when one of them stepped between her legs and eagerly penetrated her.

Lowering my glasses and stepping away from the window, I took a few deep breaths to settle my stomach. I needed to get the fuck out of there as fast as possible. Harry could have warned me they were a cult of necrophiliacs. He probably hoped they would catch me and add me to their collection. In my haste to get to the door, I bumped the shoulder of a cloaked man that had just entered.

"Oh, excuse me, madam," announced a familiar, silky voice from under the hood.

I stopped in my tracks and watched the man as he went to the window and raised his opera glasses. I knew who it was, and he wasn't supposed to be there. While mentally cursing the Coleman brothers to the darkest parts of hell, I stomped over to Lenard and punched him hard in the arm. He grunted and almost dropped his glasses. He was clutching his arm as he looked at me in astonishment.

"Dolly? What the fuck are you doing here?" he hissed.

"Same to you! Get me the fuck out of here!" I hissed back.

Two cloaked figures turned and shushed us after that. Lenard bowed his head, grabbed my hand, and dragged me towards the door we had used to get in. We left the viewing halls, returned our cloaks and glasses to the gray-eyed doorman, and hurried back to the club. Danny was still tearing up the stage as Lenard and I made our way to a secluded booth.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Lenard? I can't believe you're a part of this disgusting cult! How can you put your dick in a corpse and then stick it in a living woman? That's utterly repugnant!" I hissed, trying hard not to yell.

"Calm down, Dolly. I don't fuck corpses. I just like to watch."

"That doesn't make it better!" I almost shrieked.

"Dolly, for fuck's sake, keep your voice down, or you'll get us both in trouble. That woman wasn't dead. She was pretending to be a corpse for the show. It's all an act."

I stared at him in disbelief for a moment. The redhead definitely looked dead. I had seen plenty of dead bodies in my time. I would know the difference.

"She looked dead, Lenard."

"Dolly, they go through great lengths to make it look real. The opera glasses, the special rooms, and a lot of makeup do the trick. I've seen them put the show together. I sponsored an event a few years ago, and they let me see how they did it. I promise you, it's fake."

"Even the pictures?" I snapped.

"I don't know about the pictures. They come from all over the world. They're probably real."

I growled under my breath and put my hands over my eyes, wishing I had never left the office.

"Did you bring a car, Lenard? I want to go home."

"Of course, Dolly. Let's go."

As we stood to leave, Danny walked over and looked at Lenard with wide eyes.

"Shit, Mr. Coleman, you're not supposed to be here," he announced.

Lenard rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed sigh.

"Did Harry send you two after me?" he demanded as he looked between us.

Lenard got an earful from me on our drive home. Danny was in the back seat of the Rolls Royce, grinning and chuckling as I cursed the youngest Coleman brother with every terrible word I knew.

"God, Dolly, are you done?" Lenard asked in annoyance.

"Yes. Unless I think of something else terrible to call you."

"For the last time, the chamber shows are fake, and I have never fucked a corpse," he groaned.

"If I find out you're lying to me, I'll murder you myself and hand you over to the cult."

The car was silent for many minutes after that. Danny was still grinning when I glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"Does the cult have a name?" I asked.

"Bella Morta," Lenard sighed.

"Beautiful Dead? That's straight to the point, at least. Who runs it?"

"I don't know."

"Seriously?" I snapped.

"Yes, Dolly. I'm serious. Bella Morta is the oldest trendy cult in New York. One person doesn't represent it. Many people contribute to the gallery to keep it active. It's a kinky sex club."

"Yeah, a kinky sex club that inspired a psychopath to ritualistically murder a beautiful showgirl," I spat. "Is the harbor club their permanent location?"

"No, they're in a different place every week. They have viewing rooms all over New York."

"Who makes that special glass?"

"I don't know, Dolly. I'll tell you what I do know. The harbor club was close, so I visited to see if they were doing anything new. I still receive the weekly letter that announces the viewing location. If you want to contact the cult leaders or sponsor an event, you have to drop a letter into the suggestion box at the end of the viewing halls. If they trust you, they'll contact you."

"Fuck," I sighed as we parked in front of my office. "Lenard, would you be willing to help me contact these people?"

"No. Harry would kill me."

"Why?"

"Because I promised Harry I would stay away from Bella Morta, but as you can see, I didn't. If the paper got wind of a Coleman brother visiting the viewing rooms, it could damage our name and our business."

"Bullshit. You're both hiding something. What are you two not telling me?"

"Dolly, for your own good, stay away from the cult. Rose got mixed up with them, and you see how it ended."

"You lying piece of shit. Why would Rose get involved with a cult like that? She was a popular showgirl. She lived a charmed life. What could they offer her that she didn't already have?"

"Really good drugs," Danny chuckled before he slumped sideways in the seat.

"What? Danny!" I gasped as I looked in the back to see him unconscious.

"Fuck... he must have taken something at the club," Lenard said and climbed halfway into the back to pick up Danny's arm. He yanked his sleeve up and used his cigarette lighter to examine it. "Shit! He did take something, and he's not breathing."

"Oh God, Lenard, drive three blocks up and find Doctor Keller's office!" I half shrieked.

He got us there in less than a minute. I dived out of the car and pounded on Pacey's office door loud enough to wake the neighbors. When I heard his footsteps rushing through the waiting room, I ran back to the car to check on Danny.

"What the hell is all the ruckus? Dolly, is that you?" Pacey demanded as he stepped over to the car and looked at us in the dim light of the street lamp.

"Yes, Danny took something at a club, and now he's not breathing! Help him!" I yelled.

"Shit! What did he take?"

"Probably a mix of cocaine and heroin," Lenard said as he examined the fresh puncture on Danny's arm.

"I'll be right back," Pacey called and rushed back into the office.

After what felt like an eternity, Pacey came back with a scary-looking needle. He pushed Lenard out of the way and stabbed Danny in the chest with it.

"What the fuck?" Lenard gasped.

"It's an adrenaline shot. It should get his heart working again," I explained.

We watched in painful silence as the seconds ticked away. I could have collapsed in relief when Danny sucked in a breath and groaned.

"Thank God," I breathed as Pacey and Lenard carefully pulled Danny out of the car and dragged him to the bed in the spare room.

"What's going on, Dolly? Why are you wearing a wig and hanging out with Lenard Coleman?" Pacey whispered as he continued to examine Danny.

"I was chasing a lead. Harry and Lenard implied that Rose was mixed up with the Bella Morta cult, so I paid them a visit at a speakeasy by the harbor. They had some pretty disgusting stuff going on in the basement. I picked up Danny and Lenard in the process."

"I don't see any old punctures on Danny's arms. Was he an addict?"

"I don't think so. He would experiment with stuff from time to time, but he cared too much about his health to do this to himself."

"You think someone forced it on him?" Pacey asked with his brow furrowed.

"After what I saw tonight, I know someone is taking advantage of beautiful people, and Danny caught their attention. They must have gotten to him while I was distracted."

"What did Rose's autopsy reveal? Did they find drugs in her system?"

"No, the cause of death was blood loss, and there were no immediate signs of drug abuse, so they didn't test her for it. The morgue is a shit-show these days. They're understaffed and overworked. If the cause of death is obvious, they shove the body into a casket as fast as possible."

"God, I'm sorry, Dolly. Danny needs to be watched for at least a week if he wakes up from this. A really good hit of heroin can instantly create an addiction."

"I'll send him to Harry with Lenard. Harry has the means to take care of him. He sent Danny to the club in the first place, so it's mostly his fault," I grumbled and left the room to find Lenard.

The youngest Coleman brother was sitting in the waiting room, looking tired and worried.

"Is he alive?" he asked as I sat down next to him.

"Pacey thinks he'll live. I want you to take him home with you and get Harry to look after him for a week. He owes Danny and me that. Does Bella Morta force potent drugs on people to lure them into their cult?"

"Yeah... they did it to me, but Harry intervened. Their heroin blend is amazing. It can make you worship whoever gives it to you. When Harry found out what they were giving me, he killed a lot of their people in retaliation, and they killed a lot of ours. Then they reached a truce somehow. Since then, Harry has stripped me of my power outside the hotel. He doesn't trust me anymore, and I don't blame him. I should have stayed home tonight."

"I'm glad you didn't. Danny might have ended up in that disgusting basement otherwise. Was Rose's murder a warning to Harry? The cult killed someone in your hotel. That's not hitting close to home. That's breaking in and shitting on the carpet."

"It meant something, but I don't know what. Harry won't tell me. That's another reason why I went to the club tonight. I was curious if something big had changed. It was stupid of me."

"Did seeing Rose gutted remind you of the drug? Did it make you want it?"

His eyes widened at that suggestion.

"Oh my God, it did," he whispered with a gulp. "Everything about her murder reminded me of the first time they dosed me. It made me crave it after being clean for three years."

My heart sank at that revelation.

"Lenard, what would have happened had I continued through the basement gallery? What was in the next room?"

"The drugs. If you want to participate, they pump you full of Bella Morta heroin and send you into one of the chambers behind the glass," he whispered.

"Then what happens?"

"You pretend to fuck a corpse. It's sick, I know, but with their drugs in your system, it's a heavenly experience. It's like connecting with the dead on another plane of existence. I still dream about the night I did it. I could see the soul of the woman I was fucking rise out of her body and smile at me. She wanted me inside her so our spirits could connect. We were in ecstasy together. Our ghosts were making love instead of our bodies. It was bewitching," he whispered as he closed his eyes and shuddered.

I was beyond freaked out by his explanation and his reaction to the memory of it. It made my skin crawl.

"Lenard, are you sure it's all an act? That woman looked pretty dead to me."

"I know for sure the woman in the first chamber is alive and pretending to be dead. That's a demonstration for potential members who aren't using the drug yet. Beyond the second chamber, I don't know."

"God, Lenard, you probably did fuck a corpse while drugged out of your fucking mind!" I yelled.

"Dolly, none of this yelling helps anything."

"It helps me!"

Pacey came into the waiting room at that point, looking tired and annoyed.

"Danny's awake, but he's not alert. He'll likely be out of his head for a few more hours. Now would be a good time to take him somewhere else."

That meant he didn't want him in his office while under the influence of an illegal drug. Pacey had enough trouble with his own addicted patients. He kept specific medicines on hand to prevent them from dying in his office.

I spoke with Danny before he left with Lenard. He couldn't answer any of my questions about the club. It broke my heart to see him so messed up. I would be damned before I lost another friend to Bella Morta. I was certain the cult was responsible for Rose's murder after that night. It was all coming together in a disturbing way. Pacey volunteered to walk me home after Lenard left. We both needed the fresh air.

"Dolly, you're getting in over your head with Bella Morta," he whispered as we strolled past the dark windows of the bakery on the corner.

"What do you know about it, Pacey?"

"The name 'Bella Morta' is used for the drug and the cult. Their heroin ruins lives faster than any drug I've ever encountered. I don't take patients that have a history with it. Most people don't survive long enough to realize they need therapy after using it."

"Lenard hasn't taken it in three years, but Harry stripped away a lot of his responsibilities and didn't give them back, and he still sneaked back to the club in spite of the danger. He's a ticking bomb for a relapse. That's an eye-opener. Will Danny be like that after he recovers?"

"Not likely. Lenard apparently went through the cult initiation. That's where they hook you physically and mentally. I studied their technique in college. They use a strange experience to build a shocking association with the euphoric pleasure of the drug."

"What are you saying? Are they turning people into necrophiliacs on purpose?"

"Yes and no. They're using blood, gore, and euphoric sex to create an unforgettable experience that's hard to recreate. Not even a Coleman brother has the means to resist what they offer. The cult has been around for centuries. Think about it, Dolly. Once they have someone initiated and hooked, they can easily control them. It's scary."

"No kidding. Thanks for helping Danny. He's one of a few friends I have left in this city," I sighed as we stopped in front of my office door.

"You have more friends than you realize, Dolly," he said with a thoughtful smile. "Speaking of friends and acquaintances, I hired Hanna. She'll be watching the front, starting tomorrow."

"Oh, good. I'm glad you'll have someone helping for a change."

"Really?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, really. Sorry I gave you a hard time about her. I was a lost cause that day."

"Ah-ha, we finally have a confession," he grinned. "Goodnight, Dolly. Stay out of trouble," he ordered before he retreated back to his office.

Chapter 8: Slow Sunday

The next day, my first order of business was to visit Harry at the Dahlia and curse him to high heaven for sending me into a den of dangerous necrophiliacs. Then I planned to check on Danny. I was pleased to discover Harry had set him up in a comfortable room in his executive suite so he could watch over him. I was learning that Harry could be just as sweet as he could be cruel. He took my harsh words gracefully, knowing he deserved it.

"I didn't send you in alone," he reminded me.

"True, but the person you sent to look after me was too sexy. He caught their attention."

"Exactly. Danny lured them away from you."

"Damn it, Harry. You're still in trouble for this."

"I know. I'm sorry. I also want to thank you for finding Lenard before he did anything stupid. God, I can't believe he went back there after three years clean," he groaned as he sat on his couch and rubbed his eyes.

"It was because of Rose. Her death reminded him of Bella Morta and made him crave it. Pacey explained it to me. It's scary how it messes with your mind."

"I know. I would erase the cult from New York if I could. I tried once, but they scattered to the darkest corners of the city and regrouped like the roaches they are."

"Rose's murder was a warning for you, wasn't it?"

He closed his eyes and nodded, prompting me to let out another string of curses.

"Why?" I eventually demanded, trying hard not to yell.

"I pushed them recently. The cult had begun manipulating local businesses to help claim valuable property close to the hotel. One of my favorite bakeries was bought and sold without warning. That bakery had served our hotel patrons for over ten years. I personally confronted the owner about it, and he was showing all the signs of addiction. He was fine a month earlier. After some gentle persuasion from my goons, Joe confessed that Bella Morta forced him to sell his business. I pulled some strings and reclaimed the bakery for him. I even helped Joe get clean, so he could continue business as usual. The cult obviously didn't like that."

"Thus, they murdered your most popular showgirl and tempted your brother back to their drug den. God, Pacey was right. These people are over my head."

"I could have told you that, but you strike me as the type that learns lessons the hard way."

I rolled my eyes at his observation since it was true.

"How can I get justice for Rose against a monster like Bella Morta?" I sighed and slumped onto the couch next to Harry.

"Join the cult," Harry suggested.

"There has to be a better way."

"Join the administrative side, is what I meant. The people who run the cult aren't hopeless addicts. They're people like me, powerful and manipulative. They became my enemy when they tried to claim my brother. That prevented me from getting to know them better."