Forums » General Roleplay » Trick or Treat: Gutierrez's Clinic of Spooks

"Remember me we doin' this? We don't even celebrate Jalowin, anyways..."



Most thought clinics where eerie in general, and the “Nuestra Señora de Lourdes” seemed to be the embodiment of the idea. The concrete walls of the outside, whose green paint was only apparent by the few chunks of it that hadn’t fall out already, where met in the inside by poorly installed tile walls. Of these, about a third of the tiles remained on the wall, they parters falling or shattering over the years due the humidity and bad conditions. All the equipment was in a ruinous state on top of that, from the yellowed sheets from the examination beds, to the timid rust that formed on the handles of the instruments. Certainly, the poorly cut, cardboard skeletons and ghosts actually cheered up the place.

"Because the sheriff said that if we don't do something good for the community at least once a year, he's callin' immigration on us." Replied the youngest brother nonchalantly, not even bothering to take his eyes out his phone as his hand sneaked inside the candy bowl to steal a piece. “And it was givin’ treats to children, or goin’ to the shelters.”

"Ugh, right... well, still better than doin' community service...Like hell imma gonna go help to that damn shelter again..." The eldest brother replied, running a hand through his hair: Some people were seriously picky on what made a “good stew”. Lautaro’s attention turned from the cardboard ghouls to his brother, cocking an eyebrow in confusion. "What are you supposed to be?...And what are you wearin'?"

"A skeleton. I bought this thing som’ time ago. Figured I coulda give it some use now..." The thug replied, a hand tugging on the chest of his training jacket as to explain his point, it's ribcage pattern stretching in the motion.

"Huh, at least your bad taste has some good use..."

Santiago gave his brother an annoyed glance, finally setting his eyes away from the screen. "And what are ya, huh? A dirty-bandages hobo?"

"Isn't that what he is in general?...The idea was that you put on a costume, Lauti." A female, unamused voice added, enticing a snicker in booth younger siblings, and annoyed groan of the older one.

"Really funny, you brats." Lautaro commented, fixing the wrappings on his stub. "I'm obviously a mummy. Also...The hell are you doin’ in my house, huh?" He asked the woman who sat on a stool close to the entrance. She let out a soft, annoyed sigh as she raised her eyes away from her nails, the black fabric of her dress mixing with the fabric of her cape.



"Oh, I just wanted to spend a holiday with my adorable, favourite brothers, that's all." She said in the most sarcastic tone she could use. The two men were quick to flash her an exeptic glance.

“We are yer only brothers, Maria.”

“Yeah, and since when you want to spend time with us, anyways?”

The middle sister rolled her eyes. "Alright, fine...My date cancelled on me, and I didn't brought enough cash for a cab. Happy?"



"Now that I can believe.” Said Lautaro, returning to his labor on glueing the cheap decorations, this time focusing on the windows. “Hey, you two, Jalowin goes with one or two L’s?” The doctor asked, as he tried to spell the word Halloween over the greasy crystals, mumbling in annoyance at every orange letter that fell off.

“Two L’s. And starts with H, not J.” Standing up from her stool, Maria walked towards her brother. Resting one of her hands on the table where Lautaro had left the decorations, she took one of the figurines and inspecting it carefully. “Did Santi cut these? They’re...Pretty bad.”

“Nah, I bought ‘em. None of us ain't got time for that.” Lautaro explained, stomping his palm a few times against the H, until it finally seemed like it wouldn't fall off. “There...Hand me an I. And you! Leave those damn caramels.” The man explained, turning his attention to the sibling with his hand buried on the candy bowl. “I didn’t bought them for you to eat them all.”

“So? Ain’t my problem” Santiago replied, taking a piece of the many he had caught on his hand and peeling it. “Besides, ya filled half o’ the bowl with bolts and teeth. So don’t go playin’ the victim on me.”

“And what if I did, huh?” The cannibal replied shamelessly, earning a disgusted (yet unamused) glance from the other two. “Hey, I ain’t doing no wrong here! Candy ain’t cheap, and most brats don’t even take of the wrappings anyway. Not like they gonna notice anythin’...” The faint, pitch melody of the doorbell cut his defense in half, dragging the attention of the three to the door. “Speaking of the devil….”



With some difficulty, Lautaro opened the wooden door, his stub holding the candy bowl next to his chest, and his hand on the doorknob. There was a clear look of tedium on his face. “Happy halloween, or whatever…”

Instead of a greedy child standing at the door, there would be a blonde woman standing, clutching her right arm. She was dressed as a cartoon-like robber. Complete with a black, long sleeve shirt, black pants that hugged her shapely legs, black sneakers, a black beanie pulled over her blonde hair, and a black bandits masked strapped over her eyes, making the big, round, pale green orbs appear even more alluring.

The black sleeve on her right arm was shredded, revealing sliced up flesh of her arm, blood trailing and dripping down it. She looked a bit frazzled and not completely together, perhaps drunk or in shock, or something of that sort. A little blood was smeared on her striking, pale face.

“I... uh,” She stammered, looking over the man holding the candy bowl with his stump of an arm. “Um, I uh- thought this was a clinic. Right?” Rowen mumbled, taking a slight step back and glancing up at the crumbling building.

Sure, it definitely wasn’t a clinic up to the standards of most. Sure, most wouldn’t even dream of braving a clinic on this side of town. But this was Rowen’s options, and Rowen wasn’t the most cautious person anyways. Also, her arm freakin' hurt.

Of course, as always, it was her fault she’d gotten injured. She’d gotten too wrapped up in the hype of the Halloween house party she’d been at, and much too in character with her costume. And of course, of course, as always with Rowen, alcohol had been involved. Quite a bit, in fact. So much that she’d easily been convinced to scale the side of the house the party was held at, and show off her robber skills by ‘breaking in’. Complete by busting out a window with a punch, sending her right arm through the shattered glass. Not one of Rowen’s brightest endeavors, and once the alcohol had loosened its grip on her, the pain began to settle in. This place had been the closest, and Rowen wasn’t a picky lady.

Her right arm was both numb and on fire, and she didn’t dare try to really move it. It was nasty. She was sure she needed some stitches here and there, and the last time she’d stitched herself up, she’d ended up passing out cold in the gas station bathroom she was performing the stitching in.

“Um,” She cleared her throat, frowning a little bit as she looked at the... mummy? “I think I need some stitches. Can you help me?”

I'm not going in there

With those parting words, her brother had ran off into the night, leaving the girl behind, in front of this shabby-looking clinic that scared half of the wealthy teenaged population of the city. The other half, like her, while giving a rat's ass about the state of the clinic, knew better than to seek treatment there.

How had her mom called it? Ah, right. A Health-Killer or something around those lines.

Now, as the male had scurried off to somewhere else, the only remaining kid there was this pale, blue-haired, scrawny-looking teenage dressed as what could be considered, a low-cost grim reaper, with a cardboard scythe and a black cape thrown haphazardly over her shoulders, and she wasn't even wearing the hood. Next to her, a stray dog cowered and whimpered. Not even the puppy liked it there.

"Hush" she told the dog, and it whined in protest. She didn't say anything after that.

Instead, she walked to a nearby window and peeked inside. She had to wipe a bit of grease off it, first. Not that she could see anything, so she stopped trying. The dog still remained nearby, yelping and shaking, its tail between its legs, as Zoe sighed and, shoving her right hand into the pockets of her denim skirt, she walked towards the door.

What was that dare again? Right. Get in. Grab some stupid medical supply, like a bandage or a (God's sake, Zoe, unused) syringe, get out. It was that easy.
And as they were kids, Juan and her, it was really easy to convince them of doing so. Who? A bunch of twenty-years old, eager to have some Halloween fun with their younger peers.

"Stay" she told the stray, and the mutt sat obediently in its place. It'd wait for her. They always did. And she made the final steps to the door.

She wasn't alone. There was another woman, and Zoe couldn't help but cringe at the wound, and rubbed her own arm because of it. But as she directed her eyes to the person at the door, she dropped the cardboard scythe to the floor.

"Ugly mummy" she muttered, nailed to the floor and intimidated by the man in the mummy costume "Ugly as hell"

As soon as he saw the woman, the doctor's eyes opened in surprise. He hadn't really expected any patients that night, less than that, having to greet them with a bowl of candy and a stupid costume.

“Uh...yeah, it is.” The gaunt man said blinking a few times in confusion, as he stepped to a side of the door to let Rowen pass. “Get 'nside. I'll be there 'n a moment.” Lautaro was about to close the door behind her, when she noticed the blue-haired, low budget grim reaper who so cheekily commented on his looks.

“Ain't what your mom said last nite, kid.” The eldest of the Gutierrez was abode very few things, and getting on an argument with a teenager girl, wasn't one of them. However, what he did was abode of, was of neglecting a possible source of money (or patient, if you would prefer) over an argument with a teenager girl, and that's why as soon as he said his comeback, he returned his attention to the fake burglar. His hand took the candy bowl and tossed it over the youngest brother, who along Maria had turned his attention towards the wounded woman.

“Hey, you, make yerself useful and go watch the door.” The doctor barked at the youngest brother in clear spanish, to what Santiago complaint with an annoyed mumble. Lautaro was almost sure that the blonde was just wearing a silly costume...but it never harm to be cautious. Hell knew that clinic was too wrecked to have another shoot down inside it. “Take a seat now...the hell ya did to be bleedin’ like that?” He asked almost casually to the cartoonish thief, as he bit the bandages’ end and began to unwrap his hand. “Maria, feel like lendin’ me a hand in 'ere?”

The woman remained quiet a brief moment as her index touched her black lips softly, considering whether if she should or not help his one-armed brother heal an injured lady, until she finally came to what she thought was the right answer. “Not really, I think you're handling this very well by yourself.” The woman said in a casual tone, Not even leaving her spot next to the table. She never was in the mood of lending help to his older brother, let alone doing so when the neatness of her clothes might be involved. “Go ahead, thought. I've always been curious about how you do this stuff.”

“...Bitch.” Was all the doctor decided to respond, to what his sister responded with a uninterested hum. “...Wha’ever, after ya sit, Imma need ya to roll up yer sleeve so we can see what we’ve got 'ere.” Lautaro instructed to the blonde woman, as he sorted some scattered instruments in a nearby table.

By his part, Santiago had already made it to the door and stole himself a new fistful of candy. Not even taking his eyes out the phone, he let his broad back fall heavily on the concrete wall, soon resuming his tapping on the screen as he took a hard candy to his mouth. “...Ya need somethin’ or what?” He finally asked the blue haired girl after a few seconds, not even bothering to look at her. His accent was thicker than his brother, but still understandable.