Free Music City Macabre: The Low Lying Lands Saga: Vol. 1 by Bob Williams Page A

this pull to tilt was being able to watch a man die in his own puke.
    Kade strode confidently out the front doors of the Hard Rock to a raucous ovation by his Legion of Freaks, hundreds of which lived and lingered on the waterfront and down the long deceased Broadway Avenue. Broadway before The Descent was the home of a Murderer’s Row of Honky-tonks and dive bars. Murderers Row due to the death of hopes and dreams more often than people.
    The stage had been constructed several years before The Descent and was paid for partially by the Hard Rock and partially by the city. The Columbia River flowed right behind it and the feeling was that it was a great place to have a permanent venue for all the varying musical acts that coexisted in Nashville. Kade just used it to pontify his rhetoric, and oh, to hurt and kill people for fun.
    Kade never tired of hearing their cheers, their…adoration. They truly loved him. There is something to be said for the love a couple of hundred people shared as they rape and pillage together. He was, after all, a righteous leader to his Freaks. They were like his children. And like any good father you had to set a positive example for your kids. Kade knew this. There were times to show forgiveness and understanding, and then there was tough love. He supposed tough love was what he showed Jaeger. What the fuck? Nobody talks to me like that!
    While he certainly had no problems disciplining the kids, what was about to happen was more about setting an example and a little about morals. He firmly believed you could make a point with violence, so the Freaks would understand potential consequences for their actions, but also give them a little show at the same time. After all, he was a giving leader.
    Ortiz heard the applause and shortly thereafter came the chanting:
    “KADE! KADE! KADE!”
    “Ok, you bloodthirsty psychos, here he is. The man you’ve all been waiting for! The man who brought lawlessness and degradation to the Music City…KADE!
    Kade took the mic from his longtime friend and began. “Thank you Ortiz. Can I hear a little love for Ortiz? LOUDER! That’s better. The guy’s my number one ass kicker. He deserves to hear from you.
    It’s very exciting to be with y’all tonight. I know you haven’t seen me in a while but I’ve been busy. I’ll get to that in a moment. Tonight, I want to talk about boundaries. Boundaries are important because to us, the entire city, no the entire state… no the entire WORLD belongs to us! We have NO boundaries. But sometimes outsiders don’t understand boundaries. You know who I’m talking about, right?”
    Two hundred or possibly more voices boomed, “THE REGULARS!”
    “That’s right, the Regulars want to come into our house. The house that I have, that WE have worked so damn hard to build, and to take our shit. What gives them the right to walk through our front door without even bothering to knock and steal our supplies?”
    What started as a low discombobulated mumble slowly grew into a rolling thunder crack of madness. “WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD!”
    Even Kade was a little surprised at how quickly the fuckers got frothy. “Damn, y’all! I applaud your enthusiasm. I really do, but I’m not done talking. But don’t you worry, there will be blood.”
    “Sometimes it’s easy to lose sight of who we do this for. Yes we have ALL of this! Nashville, the Muuuuuuusic Citay! And yes, we did work hard to get it. We had to exterminate a lot of Regulars. That was difficult and taxing work. But, come on, right? It was FUN too! And guess what?”
    “WHAT?” they screamed in unison.
    “Chaos was pleased. Chaos, who in his glory, made all of this possible. Chaos, who visits with me regularly to bestow his gratitude for a job well done. I used to be a member of an organization called The Black Hand. I know, many of you have heard this before. However, there are always newcomers. The Black Hand serves The Eighty-Eight. Listen up!