the corner. The wind rips down the street and stings my cheeks. Pull the jacket collar tighter and let his arm draw you closer.
Here we go. Christ, this place is a real roach motel. But what can I do? I’m hungry and cold and it’s getting later. Don’t you dare desert me now!
Don’t worry… I’m here. We’re nearly one.
He opens the door to a tiny hole of a lobby. A huge cockroach crawls across the peeling wallpaper and down to the filthy linoleum floor. Loverboy saunters up to desk and wakes the old man snoring there. He whispers dark mission into the old man’s hairy ear. Go on boys laugh. You won’t have the last one, I promise you.
Loverboy approaches me with glazed eyes. No more talk? I’m really not in the mood for conversation anyway. Hungry! Head splitting in two! This elevator will never make it. It’ll stop between floors, and we’ll be stuck. Just what I need! No, there it goes. Wait for the door to open.
Loverboy beckons to me. I follow down a dank, dimly lit hallway. His heavy shoes clomp on the sagging floorboards. My boots are silent. He unlocks the door and pushes me into the room. It closes behind and he locks it up tight. He sits on a full sized bed sporting a fraying, olive green spread and picks up a remote from the wobbly nightstand to switch on the TV.
I know that music…
He turns to me and suggests I make myself more comfortable. He’s all business. I lay my jacket over the back of the chair. His watery blue eyes sweep over my body, collarbones to ankles. He takes pack of cigarettes from coat pocket and tips one out, tapping it against the nightstand. He pulls out a lighter and sticks the cigarette between thin lips. Lighting up, he takes a long drag. Smoke burns my nostrils and I cough.
“I hate cigarettes.”
He laughs. Have you decided yet who I am, Loverboy? Snow White or Rose Red? Madonna or Magdalene?
He makes his move, baring his teeth. His nicotine yellowed nails dig into my arms. Stubble scrapes like sandpaper on my face and my head throbs harder. Saliva flows into my mouth. I shudder in anticipation. Not much longer now.
He laughs again as his fingers slither to the buttons of my blouse. His breath smells of nicotine and cheap booze. The silk slips from my shoulders and he grasps my bared breasts. I can’t help the moan. He breathes encouragement and buries his head in my cleavage, probing with tongue and lips. The bony tip of his nose jabs into my sternum.
Just play along a little more, Mia. He’s almost where you want him. Lean your head against his. Close your eyes and breathe in deeply, ah, that yummy iron scent. Twine your fingers in the slippery hair and clasp him just a little bit closer. His breath is so hot on my body.
Feel the heartbeat, lub dub, lub dub, pumping blood to all parts of his body? Kiss that little pulsing spot on his throat. Just run the tongue over the ear and that slim cord beneath the salty flesh. Try that little trick with your hand.
He groans, nuzzling his face into my neck and pushes me down to the mattress. Thinks he’s pretty strong, does he? Throw him off! Look at his face! He’s pissed now. He balls his fist and draws back to punch. Raise your hand at us, animal? Go on, slug him in the face! He’s down! Red spray! Blood! Blood!
He rips off his belt and gets up, slapping leather against his hand. Delicious red streams from his nose and down his chin as he closes in.
Reach for the throat now! Easy, don’t crush it; the arterial spray is so much nicer when intact. Slam your quarry hard against the wall. Crack the head. Ah more blood, hot and syrupy sweet! Tighten the grip. Grab his balls, squeeze hard. Bring him close to the face. Slam him again, harder and show him the old pearly whites. That move always makes them wet themselves.
No screams? Is it hard to breathe? Why would I have sympathy for you? I’m the Bird of Prey! You’re just a bleeding hunk of flesh! One small kiss and then goodnight… Surprised you, huh? Just a little sting, you hardly felt it. Not quite what you had in mind for this mouth? Terrified? Very nasty demons haunt you. They’re coming for you. They have you in