Dead of night


The prostitute lay back on the bed and hitched up her skirt to show her leg. “Come on pretty boy, show me what you have got.”

She could not see the man who had brought her to this sleazy hotel. He had stopped in the car, not even spoken to her, but just beckoned her into a car. She was used to her clients not wanted to talk to her, so she did not find that creepy at all. Not many people actually wanted to admit using her kind of business, and who could blame them? He was standing right now in the shadows of the room.

“You don’t have to be shy, darling, you don’t even have to give me your name.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” These were actually the first words that he had spoken to her. She had assumed that he was quite young, from the car he was driving earlier, and the hand that she had seen beckoning her inside. However, the voice was quite old and gravelly.

She gave him a smile. “My name is Mary.” There was another pause, and so she arched her breasts until they protruded from the skimpy top. “Do you wanna play?”

“I am sure that you will be giving me plenty of entertainment.”

“You won’t know unless you join in.”

“I have plenty of money,” he told her quietly. “You have all the time in the world, Mary.”

Her smile grew wider at the thought of what she was going to get paid. “Then you are the boss, so tell me what you want me to do.”

“Strip.”

Mary did exactly that, dropping her clothes in a pile at the end of the bed. “I get it, you are one of those watcher types… Want me to start playing with myself, do you?”

“You will find that I am very hands-on,” came the reply. He still did not move out of the shadows, and so Mary did not have a clue what that man looked like. “Come to me. Backwards.”

She turned around and shuffled backwards. He was giving her directions, and, probably showing her experience, she followed every single one correctly. As she reached his solid frame she realised two things, first one was that he was naked, and the second one was that he was fully erect. His hands grasped at her hips and he thrust himself forwards into her. She gasped at the sudden invasion.

“Bend.”

Mary had no choice but to obey that order, because he put his hand on her back and pushed her down so that her fingertips nearly brushed the floor. When he thrust again he delved into another hole and once again elicited a gasp, only this time it was accompanied by a moan.

His hand pulled at her blonde hair that was hanging messily about her, instantly raising her head. “Hmm, you like that?”

“Yes sir.”

There was silence between them until he finished his act. Then he produced a knife and she gave a startled cry. “Don’t worry, Mary, because this is not for you.” He proceeded to drag the knife across his arm and the blood dripped forwards. It was not red though, but black in colour. It had to be a trick of the light, right?

The cut itself healed very quickly, and he shrugged back on his white shirt. “Your money is over there.” He pointed towards a small drawer that was located beside the bed. “Help yourself.”

“What are you?”

“I told you that I was going to tell you my name.”

“If you are listening then I did not ask your name.”

“So you didn’t.” The man turned to leave the room as anonymously as he had entered. He turned back, and Mary had to bite back a cry when she saw his face. He smiled. “I am the dead of night.”

Mary ran to the drawer and found it full of money, not that any amount of money was enough to erase the memory of that face. If it could be called a face at the end of the day. The skin had been clinging to the bones and was a variety of scar tissues. The eyes had been bulging and looked like they belonged in a dead body.

She shuddered and stuffed her pockets. Dead of night indeed.

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