Cannibal Town – The Butcher's Den
The car rolled to a stop at the edge of Cannibal Town, brakes squealing as smoke puffed from the exhaust. Signs flickered with neon pigs, knives, and meat hooks. Somewhere in the distance, someone screamed, and no one cared.
Charlie stepped out first, wrinkling her nose at the smell. "Oh gosh… I thought Rotorua Street smelled bad."
Dazzle hopped out next, stretching his wings. "Smells like home-cooked dinner to me."
Prince slid out last, slamming the door shut with one clawed hand. He adjusted his visor before scanning the street. "Our first stop. Ricky's."
Charlie glanced at him nervously. "Prince, are you sure we're in the right place? I mean… a butcher? That doesn't seem like someone who would know where Razzle is."
Prince's visor flickered with annoyance. "Ricky's not just a normal butcher. He used to sell information on the black market before I… retired him."
Charlie blinked her eyes innocently. "…Retired him?"
Dazzle squinted. "Wait. What do you mean by retired?"
Prince cracked his neck casually. "Back when I was an overlord."
Both of them froze.
Charlie nearly dropped her suitcase. "You—WHAT?!" She waved her arms. "You—you're an overlord?! Like, one of them?! The scary, powerful, nightmare-sinners that own millions of souls?!"
Prince shrugged. "Was. Not anymore. That ship has long since sailed."
Dazzle muttered under his breath. "Explains a lot, actually. Most people that saw you clearly did everything to avoid you."
Charlie's mind wandered. If he was a famous Overlord… how come she had never heard of him?
---
The butcher "Ricky's" was impossible to miss. The neon sign over the door flickered: RICKY'S FRESH CUTS. With dehydrated pig heads staked right outside the doors… how inviting?
Inside, screams could be heard mixed with the sound of cleavers slamming onto chopping boards.
As soon as they stepped through the door, a booming voice rattled the walls.
"GET YOUR CUTS STRAIGHT FROM THE DOOMSDAY DISTRICT! STILL BLEEDIN' FROM MY CELLAR! THEY'RE 97% TAPEWORM-FREE—(with a 95 percent margin of error)!"
Charlie stood in the doorway, grimacing. "…Are you sure this is the right place?"
Prince didn't answer her. He just walked inside and passed all the people in line, while Charlie apologized to everyone they passed.
"Sorry, sorry... I apologize; we just need one thing and we'll be on our way."
"Fresh meat, come an' rump lovers—HEY!" A massive warthog demon in a blood-smeared apron was shouting at some customers. "Don't run, ya pussies! It's fresh!"
But the moment Prince had entered, the whole room shifted. Customers paused, their eyes darting to Prince and the fastest exit.
Prince tilted his head, and uttered a single word. "Out."
One demon frowned, clearly not recognizing Prince, or perhaps a new sinner in Hell. "And who the hell are you—"
The moment Prince turned his visor toward him, the sinner's face went pale. He stumbled back, muttered something incoherent, then bolted for the door. The rest followed in a panicked stampede.
Ricky's pig snout flared as he cursed, pounding the counter with his fist. "Son of a bitch! You just ran off all my payin' customers!"
Prince ignored him. He approached the counter slowly. "I need information. Know anything about Lupo's auctions?"
The warthog froze. His snout huffed, and his jaw tightened. He tapped his finger on the cutting board. "…Nope. Uh-uh. Not happening. I ain't in that business no more. Whatever beef you got with them, it don't involve me."
Prince leaned closer, claws drumming on the counter. Clearly, words weren't enough...
Charlie quickly stepped in between them, showing a bright smile. "H-hey, let's not jump to threats, okay? Ricky, was it. Hi, I'm Charlie!" She extended her hand cheerfully. "And I'm really, really sorry about your customers, but we're just trying to find my friend. Could you maybe… maybe please help us?"
Ricky raised a brow, staring at her hand. "The hell are you?"
Charlie laughed awkwardly, her hand still out. "Oh, silly me! I'm Charlotte. Nice to meet you."
Behind her, Prince's visor buzzed as bright red arrows projected into the air, pointing directly at Charlie. PRINCESS blinked in bold text above her head like a neon sign.
Ricky's face instantly drained of color. Sweat trickled down his forehead. "…Oh shit."
Dazzle crossed his arms smugly. "Yeah. That's right."
Charlie smiled, oblivious. "You don't have to be scared. I'm not here to cause trouble. I just want to figure out where my friend is."
Ricky shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Prince, then back at Charlie. "…Y-you ain't very popular 'round these parts, y'know. Your whole royalty thing—people don't exactly feel… warm and fuzzy about you blue-blooded folk."
Charlie's smile faltered slightly, but she pressed on. "I know, I know. But I'm trying to change that. I don't want demons to suffer forever when they come here—I want to give them a second chance to find something better for themselves. My project—it's a hotel! Where demons can work on themselves, redeem themselves, and maybe, just maybe, go to Heaven instead of being exterminated every year. Here's my card if you're interested." Charlie beamed as she slipped her business card into his apron.
Ricky stared at her. Then snorted, looking over to Prince. "She serious?"
"Very serious!" she said proudly, nodding.
The warthog cursed under his breath, rubbing his temples. "Jesus… you're a comedian."
Charlie pouted, but her voice softened. "I just want to help my people. Is that really so wrong to do?"
Behind her, Prince's visor hummed louder, arrows still blinking over Charlie's head. Ricky's eyes darted between them, sweat dripping faster. He cursed again, finally slamming a cleaver into the counter.
"Fine. You didn't hear this from me. Got it?"
Charlie nodded eagerly. "Of course!"
"Word is Lupo's boys are makin' big moves. High-profile customers comin' in this week. We're talkin' soul-devourin' sea-worms, cronkles from the lower reefs of Envee—the real rare shit. If they got your little friend? He's probably top shelf. That means the auction, three days from now."
Charlie gasped. "Three days… oh my gosh…"
"That's all I know," Ricky muttered, shaking his head. "As for the location? That's on you to figure out. Now get the hell outta my shop before I regret openin' my mouth."
Charlie clasped her hands, smiling warmly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Ricky!"