The night air smelled sinfully sweet…or of blood and splattered guts. The breeze played its part…diffusing an ugly warmth to every niche of the city.
A sleek black Audi steered into a side street and stopped behind a tumble-down building. She stepped down from the car, ill-at-ease in the tight black skirt and much too aware of it. She tugged at it, hoping to gain an extra inch of decency. It refused to budge. She swore under her breath…too naive to realize the neighborhood she was in cared a fuck for correctitude…even in whore-clothing.
She walked to the main street and made sure the car was not visible. The locality was not used to the slick elegance of an Audi.
A beep from her watch said it was 11 PM. Making sure no one was around, she walked back to the car. She made a note in a small diary:
“Day 3. The trail has led me to the sorriest whore-hole I have ever seen. Hope to find the fucker today. Cant afford to rack up the body count any higher. The bastard will pay for all the blood he has made me spill.”
She knew she could not afford to arouse any suspicion from the regular beat-girls in the district, and hoped her blood red lipstick and 3 inch stiletto heels could help her commingle in the slutmush.
A long blade lay beneath her skirt. Glittering stones adorned the haft…spelling out “Tempter’s Girl”. She had vowed not to wash the blade till she found him. The stains would remind him of the men she had to kill…men he had set up to ambush her. So far, he had managed to be one step ahead.
A small visiting card from her ‘employees’ had the address hastily scribbled on its back. She flipped the card and read the name of the escort service again.
New Day, New Girl
Hussies With Attitude
She smiled at the ignorant contradiction.
The sky glowed a dirty glow…her thoughts seemed to manifest themselves in more ways than one. A few girls lounged beneath lamp-posts, talking shop, hooked to Mary Jane.
Finding the building she was looking for, she stepped in the foyer. The building paraded its woebegone state-dog shit littered the floor. Spiders and lizards played an endless game of eat-and-shit on the ceiling. A small bulb glowed in some nook…its light muddled by the malodorous vapors.
Deftly avoiding the slosh, she got to the second floor. A long passage spanned to her left and right. Moldy doors lined the passage on either side…she could knock them down with a kick. She took to the left, studying the grubby numbers on each door…and came upon the one she was looking for. 222.
She instinctively drew the blade as a chill went up her spine. Readying herself to slash if need be, she knocked.
“New Girl, New Day!” she hoped it sounded like a hussy with attitude.
“Hold your titties sweety…comin’!”…the voice sounded far-off.
She saw the metal knob turn…and the door swung open.
“…am coming…will come again-“
He stood frozen, the link between his mouth and brain momentarily broken. She slipped inside and kicked the door close.
“Got you sonovahoe!” She pushed him down on the bed, ripping of his clothes with the blade.
He laughed like a madman…and pushed the blade out of her grasp. Pulling her closer, he stifled her excited body with a smothering kiss.
“You are getting better at our little game with every turn sweetheart …just three days this time!” he said, pulling her clothes off.
“My bodycount has gone up to seven you fuck…you are still at three! This time around, I won’t make it so easy for you. My turn starts tomorrow.”
Alice In Chains – Facelift – Love, Hate, Love