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An Intimate Horror

It's dark now.

It must be half past three.

No moon tonight, just this damn fog. Clinging to everything.

Makes it hard to see.

Can barely tell where I am anymore.

I'm not from around here. Just visiting. Nice place though. Friendly people.

Truth is, I'm bored as Hell.

I guess that's why I came here. To escape. Thought that maybe starting over in a new city would make a difference, maybe fill some of this empty I got in me.


I'm sick of this hollowness. Maybe I need to get out of here. Get out, get my mind off of things, have some fun.

I go for a walk down some dark, lonely street. I’m looking for some... entertainment.

I've been here before. Once on my way back to the hotel. I walked past this block, saw the girls, saw them on display. They looked good. Awful good.

Truth is it wasn't just one time. I've been back, several times, looking, thinking, fantasizing, lusting... I suppose that makes me a sinner. If not of the flesh then certainly of the mind. What was it they used to preach in Sunday School? Christ said something 'bout thinking a thing is just as bad as doing a thing, maybe even worse on account of you wanting to do it so bad that it takes over your heart and mind... Shit, I guess I am a sinner.

I suppose, if I'm already damned for thinking about sinning then I might as well have the fun of sinning before God gets around to damning my soul to all eternity.

I stroll past a group of them. Kink-tarts. All dolled up, looking mighty pretty.

One of them, a tall, slender young redhead notices my stare. She calls me over. I'm nervous. She sees it. She puts her hand on mine and leads me back in to an alley. It's dark. Darker than the street was. And dank too. She tells me her name is Susan. She's not from there either. Just came here to make it big in the city.

Here she is.

She tells me how much it will be to have the ride of a lifetime. I pay her. She puts her hands on my chest, moving them up, taking my collar in her grasp. She pulls me close. Kissing me hard on the lips. Then she presses me up against the cold, wet brick wall and goes to work.

It's strange at first. Being with someone I don't even know. All manor of thoughts start racing through my mind. Is 'Susan' her real name? How much of what she said to me was true and how much was just her way of calming my nerves? Does she make up a different story for every guy? What did she expect when she moved to the big city? Become famous; get her name in all the papers? I suppose that's why they all come here. I wonder how many end up working the streets like her...

Being with her is strange at first. But I get over that. She starts pressing in harder against me. Moving faster. It won't be long now. She arks her neck back to let out a moan of ecstasy. Her throat catches the light from a streetlamp. It's very pretty.

My mouth starts to water.

I place my hand at the back of her skull, taking her hair and pulling it tight. My other hand scoops her back up and brings her to me. I kiss her lips, hard. Then I kiss her cheek. I kiss under her jaw, then down the side of her neck. I hold on tight and sink my teeth in to her soft flesh. She jerks in pain at first but I hold on tight and in a moment she looses her self to the sensation. Her blood fills my mouth. It tastes fresh and vibrant. I can taste her youth, her hopes, her dreams. It's intoxicating. I loose myself in the rush. This is what I needed. Her life fills me, completes me.

Her body starts to go limp as I drain her life. She has hardly and life left in her. I let her sweet and sweaty body drop to the stone below. I fix my clothes, preparing to exit back to the street. She looks up at me. She is scared now; she can feel what is happening. She can feel herself passing. I kneel down next to her and take her head in my hand. She is overcome with fear. She realizes what I am, a creature of the night, her own, personal horror.

I kiss her softly, one last time.


She is gone. I let go of her head and her limp neck drops back to the ground. I rise and walk back out in to the night, leaving her corpse behind.

I head back to the hotel.

The next evening the front page article of the local papers tell the story of the body of a young girl, Susan Waverly, being found dead, drained of all her blood.

Poor girl. She was only barely 18.

But hey, she finally got her wish. Got her name in the papers and everything. She's famous.

I think I'm going to like it here...



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