Lady of the Night
By StJimmy
- 1145 reads
The car slowly crept past the prospective clients. The driver eyeing each woman, observing all physical traits, as love of this kind was a shallow thing, with no bearing on the compatibility of the performers. It is a simple, burning lust. As he passed these women of the night, he was dismayed that none were his particular type. This man was the kind you would expect to see in the black van, looming like an approaching storm across the street from an elementary school, a wolf waiting to snag the lamb that leaves the safety of the flock, and drag her away to fulfill his bestial desires. He was the worst kind, as he was intelligent, moving from feeding ground to feeding ground to keep off the suspicion of the shepherds. And he had found that in the event that he was unable to satisfy his hunger through his preferred means, certain poorer parts of cities offered him a means of temporary satiation, temporary as there were seldom any who were of the age-group he most enjoyed.
It was one such night that his hunger finally brought the doom that he deserved. For as he was about to forfeit his search, he came upon a girl of singular youth and beauty, whose lips, red as the changing leaves, stood out in stark contrast to the sheer paleness of her skin, which was as white and pure as arctic snow. Upon catching sight of this prize, he felt an attraction the likes of which he had never experienced. Like a moth to an electrified lamp, he would have been unable to avoid her even if he had been able to comprehend the danger she presented to him. He stopped the car, and called her over. He easily afforded her rate, and they were off.
She told him of an abandoned church where the deed could be performed in the utmost secrecy and comfort. As he pulled into the backlot of the church, he saw the absolute dilapidation of the place, a perfect mirror of the decadent and blasphemous deeds which were to be carried out inside those rotted walls. Though a man in full control of his faculties may have seen the daemonic vandalism and fled the premises, this man was caught in the aura of dark sexuality that his intended victim exuded, and what he had felt at that back alley now had turned from lustful desire to sheer animalistic urges. The overturned crosses, bottom up pentagrams, and satanic phrases describing a method of immortality through the sacrifice and consumption of fellow humans, a literal taking of the metaphorical consumption of the blood and flesh of Jesus Christ, were not the things his eyes were fixed on.
As they entered this unhallowed edifice, he saw that the inside housed passages of text of the most unholy kind, describing diabolic rituals the likes of which it is morally objectionable to even hint at the nature of, written in a deep vermilion by what appeared to be fingers. As their clothes fell to the mildewed floor, she lead him to the spot where the pulpit once stood, and bid him lay in the middle of a giant five pointed star that was made of, as apparent from the stray still legible words on the burned debris, the ashes of Bibles. As he laid down she lit black candles with red flames, one at every point.
She crawled on top of him, and he began the rite he had come for. As they approached the culmination of their pleasure, she leaned forward and kissed him with more passion than it is possible to describe, and as her lips moved across his face, his pleasure increased. When her mouth arrived at its final destination on the side of his neck, his bliss was so intense that he did not notice the sting of flesh being pierced. And as the sweet red nectar poured from those two small holes, and her tongue caressed the wounds and lapped the thick fluid like a cat at a saucer of milk, he barely noticed his vision fading.
By the time he realized what had occurred, he became cognizant of the fact that those eyes would never again see the sun, that he was now the victim, but he could no longer care. And as his vision finally faded, and his consciousness prepared to embark on a journey beyond the confines of his physical body, one last flicker of actual thought found him realizing that this girl, more than any other woman he had passed in that last fateful trip, deserved the title "Lady of the Night."
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