This was the prompt. The associated pics are at the bottom of the post. Start of an idea…
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Derin watched the ice bob and swim in his glass as he swirled a cocktail stirrer slowly through the thick honey coloured liquid. He pushed a cube deep into the glass and then watched the drink drip from it as it resurfaced, reluctant miniature icebergs destined for oblivion. Or was that him. Thinking about it, he figured it was equally true for both of them. Slowly disappearing, melting into nothingness and consumed and pissed out by this bitch mistress of a city.
Pink and blue neon lit up the bar and the bar tender loitered, towel over his shoulder, waiting to be beckoned for another shot. Another pint. Another anything. Anything to dull the senses.
He took a deep drink, feeling the liquor course through his chest and into his stomachs. It tasted like desperation and oblivion, like revenge and rage, and he fucking loved it. He loved everything about feeling nothing because perversely it was something, and these days having something was more than most.
One of the local girls noticed him and began to walk over to him, swaying like a tropical palm as she crossed the bar. No, like a drunken sailor, that was it. She was trying to alluring but the night had taken its toll.
“You want to take me home, Derin,” she asked, smiling. She had been beautiful once, but her beauty was faded now, like an old photo, leaving her sallow eyed and pale skinne despite the layers of makeup plastered across her face.
“Not tonight,” Derin replied, slugging what was left of his drink. He motioned for another and slid two crumpled notes across the bar in payment. “keep the change.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you not going to buy me a drink then?” she asked, rubbing the collar of his long overcoat. He could smell her perfume, it was overpowering and stung his nostrils. The human girls would always use too much, trying to hide the stench the night left on them, but he could still smell it. He could smell them. So fucking many of them with their bulging wallets and limp dicks, sad little stories of their wives that just didn’t understand them and bosses that kept busting their balls. As if they had any to start with.
“I said not tonight,” Derin replied, his dark protruding eyes flashing and thin nostrils contracting in his long grey face. She recoiled, stumbling back.
“Jesus, no need to be suck a prick about it,” she said angrily, “A girl’s gotta make a living you know.”
The barman slid his drink over and Derin finished it in one. He wiped his mouth and watched as she turned to head back across the bar towards where a group of sweaty looking businessmen in ill fitting suits had slipped inside and headed to one of the corner booths. Discrete. Private. The perfect place to waste a week’s wage on some exotic off world pussy, even if it was past it’s best by date.
“Hey, wait,” Derin shouted before she was half way across the floor. She stopped and wheeled around. She knew his sort, she thought to herself. Think they’re better than everyone else but their shit stinks just as bad as everyone who drifted into this place when everywhere else had closed.
He felt a hunger stir deep down inside him, and the city coursing through him, hungry and twisted and cruelly desperate. He knew what it wanted him to do to her. What needed to be done. The city whispered it to him, its foul breath warm on his neck as the night air blew on him as they left the bar together.
Her place was closer, safer. Less obvious. Far from the prying eyes of the pointless souls that shuffled like zombies down the long halls of the visitor housing dorms. Piled on top of each other, crammed into windowless rooms and told to wait. That things would be better. That soon they would be processed and they would be free to become part of society, to rebuild what they had lost to the monstrous Earth mining companies.
But they never were, unless you counted recycling. That was the only way out for most. Hundreds from their dorms alone every month. Snuffed out, choked by the misery and emptiness of being so very far from home. From the warmth of twin suns and the caress of gentle summer zephyrs. Lightyears away from cloudless skies and stars that lit up the night like so many fairy lights, sprayed across the inky black.
She opened the door and let him inside.
“You want a drink?” she asked.
He shook his head.
She walked across and pressed herself against him. Her breasts against his chest. Her hand reached between his legs. His lips parted and he let out a sigh.
There was something else he missed. He missed fresh meat. He missed the hunt.
No one would miss her though…
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Afterwards 