Jett hesitated, then picked up the letter. He knew he shouldn't, but curiosity won him over. He scanned the room quickly, ensuring he was still alone, before reading the letter.

  "This missive serves to inform you of the escalating situation within the District. The usual channels of influence seem to be... less effective than before. More and more individuals both within and outside the established supernatural factions, are openly defying the Night Court's authority."

  Jett paused, his eyes shifted further down, and he continued reading.

  "These... breaches of etiquette, as you might call them, are no longer isolated incidents. They are becoming a pattern. The younger generations in particular, seem to possess a... regrettable lack of respect for tradition and hierarchy. I understand that your... personal projects have been demanding of your attention, but I urge you to consider the potential consequences of inaction. Should this defiance continue unchecked, the repercussions for Washington D.C. could be... catastrophic. I await your prompt response and anticipate a swift, decisive resolution to this growing problem."

  'Respectfully, Signature illegible.'

  Jett frowned, rereading the letter.

  'Night Court? Factions? What the hell is going on in this world? It sounds like something out of a bad fantasy novel.'

  He sighed and folded the letter carefully, and tucked it into his pocket. He had a feeling it might be important. He had a more pressing problem—getting out of the apartment alive.

  This whole situation was spiraling from 'bad delivery' to 'what fresh hell is this?' at an alarming rate.

  He gripped Bloodletter tightly. It was time to find a way out of the bizarre apartment. He cautiously opened the door of the room and peered out into the hallway. The creature was nowhere in sight.

  For now.

  He crept down the hallway, while keeping an ear out for any sign of movement. At the end of the hall, he found a set of imposing double doors. They were made of dark wood, reinforced with iron bands, and looked like they belonged to a medieval dungeon rather than a luxury apartment.

  "Seriously? What is this place, Dracula's summer home?" Jett muttered under his breath.

  He hesitated for a moment, then pushed the doors open. They swung inward with a creak that echoed through the apartment.

  What he saw on the other side made his jaw drop.

  The doors opened into a wide, cavernous chamber that stretched far into the darkness. It was an underground complex that was hidden beneath the facade of the apartment building.

  It was filled with cages.

  Rows upon rows of cages lined the walls, in each one was a monstrous creature. They were all shapes and sizes, but they shared a common trait: they were horrifying. Some were hunched and grotesque, with twisted limbs and gaping maws. Others were more beastly, with razor-sharp claws and glowing eyes.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  Jett stared in disbelief. "What in the… this is some next level messed up."

  He cautiously entered the chamber, keeping his bat at the ready. The creatures in the cages lunged at him, their claws scraped against the metal bars loudly, causing Jett to flinch.

  'That scared me!'

  He kept his distance while moving slowly down the aisle. He had to find a way out of the building, and fast.

  As he moved deeper into the chamber, he noticed that the cages seemed to be organized in rows. The creatures in the first few rows were relatively small and weak, but as he went further, they became larger and more menacing. He shuddered to think what kind of horrors lay at the end.

  Suddenly, he heard a voice.

  "Psst! Hey, you! Pizza boy!"

  Jett spun around, his altered eyes scanned the darkness. He couldn't see anyone.

  "Down here! In the fancy cage!"

  Jett looked down and spotted a cage made of some kind of shimmering, energy-like material. Inside, sitting cross-legged on the floor, was a creature unlike any he had seen so far.

  It was roughly humanoid in shape, but that was where the similarities ended. Its skin was a deep matte grey, similar to stone. Its limbs were long and slender, they ended in delicate hands with surprisingly long fingers. Its fingers twitched constantly, as if the creature was perpetually restless.

  Its face was the most striking feature. It was elongated with a pronounced brow ridge and a small, almost non existent nose. Its mouth was wide and stretching from ear to ear, and filled with rows of needle sharp teeth that seemed too many for its jaw.

  But the most unsettling thing was its eyes. They were large and black—and devoid of a visible pupil or iris. They seemed to absorb the light..and on its back were a pair of folded wings, like those of a bat—they were leathery and dark. They were currently tucked tightly against its back, but their outline was clearly visible to the naked eye.

  It had no hair, and its ears were pointed and slightly elongated. Despite its bizarre appearance, there was noticeable intelligence in its eyes, it possessed an innate cunning feeling that made Jett wary.

  "Are you talking to me?" Jett asked.

  "Duh! Who else would I be talking to? The angry chihuahua in the next cage?"

  The creature said, glancing towards a cage where a tiny but very irate monster was indeed snapping at the bars.

  Jett blinked. "You… you can talk?"

  "Of course, I can talk! I'm not some mindless beast, you know. Though judging by the decor in here..someone clearly has a flair for the dramatic."

  The creature shook its head for a moment, and spoke again:

  "Think they're going for Evil Overlord Chic."

  Jett stared at the creature in silence, he was still utterly bewildered. "I… I don't understand any of this."

  The creature chuckled.

  "Join the club, buddy. Now..how about you let me out of here? I promise I won't bite. Unless you taste like pizza. I have a thing for pizza."

  Jett slightly raised his bat upward and asked:

  "Who are you? What's your… what's your name?"

  The creature tilted its head.

  "My name? Oh, you can call me..Bartholomew Quibblebottom the Third."

  Jett blinked, then blinked again. "Bartholomew… Quibblebottom the Third?"

  He couldn't help but repeat the name, it sounded so ridiculous.

  The creature spreads his long fingers with a dramatic gesture.

  "The one and only! Though most of my friends just call me Barty. Or Quibbles. Or occasionally, 'Hey, you, get me a snack!'"

  He sighed dramatically. "It's tough being a prisoner of refined taste."

  Jett stared at him, trying to process the sheer strangeness of the situation. "You're… you're kidding, right? That's not really your name."

  Bartholomew's wide mouth stretched into an even wider grin.

  "Would I jest with you, pizza boy? In this, our hour of potential liberation? Besides, it's a very distinguished name! My mother picked it out herself!"

  Jett lowered his bat slightly.

  "Okay, Bartholomew… or Barty. Whatever. How do I get out of here? And why are you locked up in a fancy cage?"

  Barty's grin widened, revealing even more of those unsettlingly sharp teeth. "Ah, the million dollar question! As for getting out..well, that's where I come in, my friend. Volkov, your not so friendly neighborhood gargoyle keeps the keys on him. Or rather, he keeps them on his… person."

  He waggled his long fingers suggestively.

  "Very close to his person...you're going to have to get them."

  Jett's eyes widened. "Get them? You mean… steal them?"

  Barty shrugged and spoke again:

  "Steal, liberate, acquire through unconventional means… whatever you want to call it. The point is, you need those keys, and Volkov isn't exactly the sharing type."

  He paused, then added:

  "And I highly recommend you do it before he finishes his little… transformation tantrum upstairs. He gets cranky when he doesn't get his extra jalapenos."

  Jett stared at him, then back at the rows of cages filled with monstrous creatures.

  "You want me to go back upstairs and pickpocket a pissed off monster that can rip a chunk out of a wall with his teeth?"

  Barty clapped his grey hands together, his grin widened even further.

  "Precisely! Think of it as a… training experience. You - me - freedom, and a healthy dose of grand theft. What could possibly go wrong?"