Page 6

Olivia

ecstasy (slowed) by SUICIDAL-IDOL

T he Jager is packed tonight. People are sandwiched together, grinding against one another beneath the flashing strobes in a sea of sinful pleasure. I’m already four drinks deep and the alcohol has settled into my core, warming me from my center out to my limbs. I love the feeling of being fucked up. It doesn’t matter if it’s liquor, drugs, or sex—the feeling of lightness, even just temporary freedom from the weight of reality, is an addiction I don’t want to be rid of.

I reach in my pocket to check my phone. No new notifications. The sting of disappointment is immediate. I texted Celeste before leaving the shop to come out with me tonight. She’s usually down for a good time. We met in college and instantly hit it off. We’ve been best friends ever since. There’s just something so vulnerable about her. She keeps everyone at a distance, and yet she hates to be alone. She makes me feel seen in a way that no one else ever has. She accepts me no matter what fucked up shit I do. She never judges me and never leaves me to clean up my own messes like everyone else does. My text was a last, pitiful attempt to see if she’d respond. But deep down I knew she wouldn’t. If I want to see her again then I’m going to have to fucking find her.

“Pink,” Chris hollers over the crowd. “Paul and I are going to head out. You need a ride home?”

I contemplate taking him up on his offer but the thought of returning to my cold and empty house sounds very unappealing. I know that if I go home I’ll just be a fucking mess of nerves. I’d rather stay here, get fucked up, and dance away some of my anxious energy.

“I think I’ll stay. I’m good to get myself home,” I yell back at him over the thumping bass.

He slings his arm around Paul and plants a soft kiss against his partner’s forehead.

“Catch you tomorrow then!” they call back toward me as they wave and make their way through the sea of people.

I dance for a few more songs, letting the pounding of the music travel through my flesh as I sway along with the beat. Eventually, I feel the need for more liquid chaos. Leaving the crowd, I make my way toward the bar. I’ve probably already had enough tonight. I’m on drink number … four? Maybe five. Shit, I lost count, honestly. But I just feel light—free. And I’m not ready for that feeling to end just yet. My limbs sway and twist in time to the beat thumping out of the speakers as I wander through the crowd. It’s as if I’m one with the song. We’re all one as we move in time together. It’s nice to be anonymous, no one, and yet part of the sea of bodies.

As I make my way off the dance floor, I fold my arms atop the sticky bar top. All the bartenders are busy so I lean forward, pushing out my breasts, hoping to get their attention. My phone buzzes in my pocket. My breath hitches as hope swirls in my stomach. It could be her. Slipping my phone from my pocket, I stare down hopefully at the screen.

Halloween Hottie: Hey, you never returned my text the other night. Hope I didn’t scare you off. I’m excited for our date.

I sigh and can’t stop my eyes from rolling into my head. That was not the text I was hoping for. I should be excited. He’s nice and hot. But he’s not her . I can’t help the disappointment I feel that it’s not Celeste. What the fuck is wrong with me? I should be thrilled that this hot ass lawyer is excited to take me out, but instead I’m moping about my friend who won’t text me back.

“What can I get you?” The bartender pulls my attention away from my phone as I pocket my device and look up.

In front of me is a very attractive woman. She’s tall and curvaceous with full lips. Her loose black curls frame her heart shaped face and her dark complexion seems to glow in the lights above the bar. Her white V-neck shows off a pair of fantastic fucking tits. Fuck, she’s hot as hell . She’s exactly what I need to get my mind off Celeste and my stalker. Things have been a bit intense lately, but tonight I’m fucked up and ready to escape the shithole that is my life—if only for a night. A sexy distraction is exactly what I’m looking for. Maybe I can even go back to her place and avoid the nightmares that leave me breathless and exhausted.

“I’ll take a vodka lemonade, please,” I say, flashing her the sexiest smile I can muster.

Her ebony eyes sparkle as she assesses me, her gaze wandering from my face down to my cleavage. I feel my nipples tighten under her hungry stare.

“Put it on my tab!” An abrasive slur comes from beside me as a heavy arm slings across my shoulder. The putrid smell of sour beer and terrible body spray assaults my senses.

My beautiful bartender gives me an annoyed look before turning and wandering towards the service well. Damn it. I spin my stool violently towards the drunk asshole who just pussy blocked me, ready to give him a piece of my mind, when a chill creeps up my spine.

The feeling of eyes on me strikes me suddenly. My stalker is here. I don’t know how I know, but I do. He’s here and he’s watching me.

I shove the heavy arm of the hairy buffoon off of me and slide off my barstool. Before me is a darkened dance floor with a blueish strobe occasionally illuminating the writhing forms of dancing couples. The bass thumps in time to the erratic beating of my pounding heart. I scan the crowd, looking for evil hiding in plain sight. Women and men gyrate against each other, each flashing strobe like a blink that shows their movements in stop-frame. I can feel the dark presence that’s been plaguing me for weeks wrap around me, squeezing the breath from my lungs.

And then I spot him. I don’t know how I know, but I know he’s the one who’s been following me. His tall and muscular form stands opposite from me across the sea of sweaty bodies. His arms are folded across his chest as he stands completely still. I can’t see his face as his hood casts a shadow across his entire face, but I feel his heated gaze locked on me. He’s watching me. My breath hitches in my throat and my lungs burn. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I’m completely under his spell as he holds me captive with his mere presence.

Then the strobe flashes again, and he’s gone.

I blink rapidly, trying to get my eyes to focus. I scan the crowd, looking for a devil in a sea of unsuspecting victims. He’s not here. What the fuck? He was right there. I saw him. I know I saw him. I know it was him.

My feet move on their own accord, pulling me toward the dance floor. I’m not letting him get away. I’m going to confront him and ask him what the fuck he’s doing and why he’s following me. And most importantly, if he knows where Celeste is.

I barely take two steps before I’m halted in my tracks. A large hand circles my upper arm and roughly pulls me backwards. My back hits his paunchy front as he drags me closer.

“Hey baby, I just bought you a drink. Where do you think you’re going?”

I try my best to shrug off the barstool buffoon but his digits dig into my flesh. That’ll definitely leave a mark.

Oh, he’s one of those assholes. I’m so not in the mood.

“Fuck off,” I snarl as I jam my elbow backwards into his gut.

He groans in pain as he releases me. I don’t miss a beat. I storm off after the mystery man, leaving the drunk, former frat boy behind me to lick his wounds.

Swimming through a sea of sweaty forms, I desperately try to move through the crowd. People are drunk, or high, or both as they move to the music, oblivious to my desperation. I can’t let him get away. I shove and yell as I make my way across the expansive dance floor. When I reach the other side I scan my surroundings, trying to figure out where he could have gone. I would have seen him enter the crowd, or move to the door. It’s like he’s disappeared.

Maybe I really am starting to lose my mind.

Then I notice a small, darkened hallway in the back corner. It’s so dark I can’t see at all down the empty space even with the flashing lights above. A sign signals that the bathrooms are down that hallway. Who the fuck decided bar bathrooms should always be in some shitty, dark, hidden area? I guess those who like to prey on others in the cover of the dark. But I’m not a victim, I’m the fucking predator.

Throwing caution to the wind, I stomp into the shadows. I’m determined to confront the demon that’s been haunting me.

The hallway is dark and smells of piss and other bodily fluids. I can barely see in front of my face as the lights from the dance floor fade into the background completely. I move further back into the darkness and fingers abruptly wrap around my upper arm. I’m shoved to the left, my front hitting the cold brick wall as a firm figure presses up against my back.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His stale beer breath makes my stomach roll in disgust as he leans down into me. “I said, I wanted to buy you a drink.”

The drunken asshole from the bar grinds his pitiful cock against my ass as he tightens his grip on my arm. I hiss in pain at his aggressive touch. I was so focused on my stalker that I didn’t notice this fucker following me. And now I’m alone with a very different type of monster. His free hand moves dangerously high up the back of my thigh, skimming the bottom of my dress. I squirm and try to fight against his assault but he holds me tightly. My chest begins to constrict as memories of feeling helpless flood through me. Panic and a sudden urge to fight simultaneously take over me. I scratch and claw at his hand but he’s stronger than me. He pins both of my hands in one of his meaty paws. His fat fingers, his disgusting breath, his scent, his aggression, are all assaulting and overwhelming me. My fight or flight response is kicking into overdrive.

“Get the fuck off of me, you drunken asshole!” I shriek, hoping and praying that someone—anyone—will hear me as I desperately fight against his hold.

“Come on baby,” his fingers slide against the hem of my underwear, threatening to attack where I least want them, “you look like you’re down for a good time.” His thick, sweaty digits slip beneath the fabric and I feel bile rise in my throat. “You’re clearly asking for a good dicking dressed like that and dancing around like a desperate little slut.”

A tear slips from the corner of my eye, streaking down the expanse of my heated cheek as his finger rubs against my folds. I desperately try to buck him off but he’s so much bigger and heavier than I am. I feel the suffocating weight of anxiety crushing my chest as helplessness sets in. I promised myself I’d never be weak enough to be a victim again after what happened when I was younger. I’m not giving up now. If he thinks I’ll give in without a fucking fight, he’s got another thing coming.

“Fuck off!” I manage to grit out between my clenched teeth. I squeeze my eyes shut and ready my head to swing backwards, hoping I can hit him hard enough to get away.

But then, just as suddenly as he grabbed me, his weight disappears. I suck in a desperate breath, air finally filling my lungs. A sudden crash slams into the wall next to me causing me to jump. I’m terrified, confused, and hurt. I take another deep breath and slowly peel my eyes open.

Next to me is my assailant, his body pinned against the brick wall. His eyes are bugging out of his head and his mouth is flailing uselessly open and shut. Around his throat a large hand squeezes tightly. Long, thick, strong fingers hold him in a bruising grip against the wall right next to my face. My attacker looks terrified.

“You do not talk to her that way.” A deep and distorted voice rumbles from behind us. My front is still pressed against the bricks with my head turned to the side, so I’m unable to see the form holding the drunken asshole captive. But I don’t need to see him. I know it’s him .

Slowly turning my head to look, I’m met with the face of a demon. The hood of his sweatshirt has been thrown back revealing a monstrous facade. His black and gold mask hides his face from me but I can feel his rage radiating off him in waves. A dark god of revenge and ruin holds my attacker against the wall, squeezing the life out of him. Is he protecting me?

“It’s you,” I manage to whisper, pulling his attention to me. His head snaps in my direction even as he holds the other man firmly in his grip. “You’ve been following me?”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to. I know it was him. He cocks his head to the side, assessing me.

“Do you know where Celeste is?” I ask as fresh tears prick the back of my eyes.

He conveys nothing. He simply stares at me, refusing to answer any of my questions. White hot anger boils up inside me.

“Why?” I ask as I bring my eyes back to the fucker pinned against the wall. His skin is starting to turn blue from lack of oxygen. His legs kick wildly and his fingers claw at the hand wrapped around his throat, but it’s no use, he’s trapped.

“He touched what’s mine.” The demon’s distorted voice slithers out from behind the mask, wrapping itself around me and causing a shiver to run up my spine. I know he’s a bad man, but in this moment, he’s my savior.

Movement draws my attention back to my demon. When I look back he’s pulling something from his coat. He holds it out to me, the steel blade glinting in the low light of the hallway. A knife.

“This revenge is yours, my siren. Take back your power and show him you’re not to be messed with.”

I stare at the grotesque mask. It’s black and sinister with a long golden tongue slithering out like a serpent from the mouth. The sight of that tongue makes me clench my thighs and pull my bottom lip between my teeth. I know this man is dangerous and a stalker, but fuck , there’s something menacing and salacious about him that makes me weak.

A growl emanates from his chest as he watches me. “I sense your pussy dripping for me, love. But now is not the time. When I claim you, and trust me I will claim you, it will not be with some drunken asshole watching from the sidelines.”

His words leave me as terrified as they do turned on, but he’s right. Reaching out my hand, I let my trembling fingers wrap around the black handle of the small hunting knife.

“I don’t want to kill him,” I whisper as I turn the knife over in my hand. “Just hurt him.”

“Such a violent little thing you are, my sexy siren,” my masked man coos as his hand reaches up to tuck a lock of fallen hair behind my ear before moving to point to the side of my assailant’s paunchy stomach. “Stab him here, not too deeply, and drag the blade only a few inches forward,” he instructs as he points with his free hand. “As long as your cut remains shallow, it’ll hurt like a bitch but won’t kill him.”

I push off from the bricks and fully turn to my attacker. The man who had me helpless and at his mercy a minute ago is now frightened and flailing against the punishing hold containing him. His eyes are full of fear, begging me for mercy—mercy he didn’t show me moments ago as he tried to assault me. I’ve been helpless and terrified before at the hands of a monster. I have no doubt that even if it wasn’t me, this creep would have been someone else’s worst nightmare tonight—a monster hiding in plain sight. I’m ready to show him what he gets when he preys on women.

I shove the knife into his stomach right where my demon instructed. Blood spews from the wound, coating my hand. But I don’t stop. I drag the blade through his flesh. It’s more difficult than I thought it’d be, the skin providing resistance and snapping against the serrated edge of the blade. When I look up, the man’s face is contorted into grotesque pain and horror. His mouth opens in a silent scream as his windpipe is still held firmly closed. A single tear falls down his face, getting lost in his stubble.

Good; now he knows how it feels to be powerless.

I pull the blade from his flesh and loosen my grip. As it clatters to the ground, blood splatters my shoes and the floor. My demon pulls the man closer, so close their noses touch as he growls, “You ever come near my girl again, and I will gut you like a fucking pig.” His mask must have a voice distorter in it because it sounds inhuman as he finishes threatening the man that I just stabbed. “Understand me, asshole?”

The other man sobs and nods frantically as a pool of blood begins to form beneath his feet while I watch in shocked horror. Suddenly, he’s thrown backwards. His head bounces off the wall as he slides down it then crumples to the floor in an unconscious heap.

The noise and violence seems to shake me out of whatever trance I’ve been in. I realize what I’ve just done, what I’ve allowed to happen, and who I’m left alone with. My masked monster turns to me slowly. Laughing at the violence we’ve just perpetrated. Before he can reach out to grab me, I run. The sound of my frantic footsteps echo off the walls as I flee down the hallway as quickly as I can.

As I reach the end of the hallway, almost back to safety, I hear him call out from behind me, “I’ll be seeing you soon, my sweet siren.”