Kiss me, cut me, hurt me, love me
He checked his reflection for splatters of red and pushed open the heavy door of the Crooked Billet. With a great sigh he heaved himself onto the only free stool at the bar, it had been a long hard day and he needed a strong drink.
Holding the drink up he mumbled to himself “The end”. He was not in the habit of toasting, but it was all finished, the man in the park had been the last; his debt finally repaid.
“Oi cunt!” Said a voice directly behind him. “Yes you, you shrivelled fucking plum face, that’s my seat. Jog on.”
To be fair the man was right his face was a criss cross patchwork of scars and wrinkles, and he stunk, the smell of death. Normally the man behind him would now be clutching at his throat trying to stem his life-force from adorning the walls in claret, but this was not a normal day. That thought was a hang over from his former more debauched self. The heartless, vicious creature he had had to become. This was the start of his new life.
He settled into a rickety chair at the back of the pub and nursed his whisky; a finger tapped him on the shoulder.
“You alright?” Said a thin girl in her early twenties. Her face plastered in too much white, her eyes and lips in too much black.
“I know some lads who can sort that knob cheese out if you want.”
“I wage my own wars”
“Raven” She held out her hand; causing her silver chain to slip down her wrist, unveiling the rows of horizontal slashes that adorned it. The man kept his hand around the tumbler as he swirled the liquid slowly around.
Raven harrumphed and fished out her phone. “You look like you’ve got tales to tell” She leaned in close, he could smell the rose tinted scent that came from her thick black straight hair.
“It will be a damn sight more interesting than hearing about who’s fucking who.”
He downed his drink and got up “I don’t tell bedtime stories.”
Turning the key in his front door he heard her behind him, the shuffling of the girl’s small feet as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. He was annoyed but unsurprised to find her standing there.
“Go on let us in, five minutes please just to get warm… oh go on don’t be a wanker.”
“Five minutes.” He said.
“Wow, this place is mint.” Said Raven as they entered his large cavernous room with its black leather furnishings.
“Stay here and don’t touch anything.” He said moving into the bathroom.
“D’ya mind if I stay the night?”
The idea of sleeping with his arms around her warm body flickered through his mind like a long forgotten dream.
Scared that his inner nature was stronger than his will power, he answered immediately. “No” He said washing what remained of the dried blood off his arms.
Coming back to the room, he found Raven naked and entwined in his metal chains entwined. Her shirt and leather trousers had been cast aside revealing her pierced breasts, scarred legs and the numbers 666 tattooed across her belly.
“We were made for each other, I’m your little lamb and all I want is your crooked Sheppard’s staff.”
He tore the chains off, pulled her up and threw her shirt and trousers at her. The stern look on his stoic face told her there was little use in arguing, it was time to leave.
“I think about dying every day.” Said Raven as she busied herself pulling her clothes on.
“Is there anything I can do to be pretty for you?” She asked. He longed to tell her this wasn’t the problem. Raven hung her head.
“Get out” He said.
“Don’t lie, you want me.”
He pointed towards the door.
“Please it’s been so long since I’ve felt something.” She said grabbing at his crotch; he suppressed the urge and batted her hand away. She threw herself at him.
“You fuckin’ bastard.” She beat him with her clenched fists. He moved sideways and advanced trying to bundle her towards the door.
She threw herself down on the floor. He gathered her up and carried her down the corridor. As she neared the staircase that led to the front door he felt her arms tighten around him. He could not deny it felt good.
“Kiss me, cut me, hurt me, love me,” she whispered and then she stuck her tongue in his ear. It had been an age since a woman had touched him with her lust and it threw him. He flinched and dropped her. A serious of thuds was followed by a loud cracking sound. Looking down at her bent body, head tilted like a broken doll, he noticed a small smile was frozen on her lips.
He cradled her body close as he made his way into the basement where the furnace was kept. Stoking the coals he saw the smoke paint an image of a happier version of himself but it was soon gone, obliterated by thick plumes of black smoke.
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