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“Patience is not something you will find here…”
Heavy metal music starts playing, and I move against the tune, raising my arms up in the air while shimmying my ass from side to side. I’ve never spoken much, and I don’t want to change that tonight either. But I feel it. The way the music finds itself deep in the marrow of my bones, and how the scent of money and sex continues to sit on the tip of my nose. This moment, I realize I am supposed to be back here. Why was I wasting my time in Midnight Mayhem?
This is my home.
My people.
As fucked up as they are.
I move off the stage and find my first victim. A middle-aged man with a graying beard and eyes that look too familiar to Kyrin’s, even though I know they are of no relation. I hate him instantly because he reminds me of what I left behind. I curl my fingers around his and direct him onto the chair, his wife sitting quietly beside him, watching with a wild hunger in her eyes. I know her type. The kind who likes to watch her partner fuck someone else. These are the kind of people who make it so easy for Patience. Law enforcement are looking for people who hide their victims in basement floors; they’d never come looking at a live show claiming to be sex acts. On top of that, Kiznitch and Patience tend to run on the opposite side of the law, so our police officers here are bought.
I shove the man down onto the center of the floor on his knees, pressing my fingernail under his chin so he’s looking right up at me. The corner of my mouth curls into a grin as I run my tongue over my teeth. Everyone knows I’m the magician. I am The Sorcerer of Death. And he is my next victim.
I cock my head to the side, watching as three other Dolls dance against the music and giggle through their acts. The two girls who were gagged and tied hang effortlessly on the pole, the concealer and foundation on their arms doing their job at hiding their track marks. I mean, no one can see from the audience anyway.
“Killing Strangers” from Marilyn Manson starts playing, and I cringe inwardly. Not a fan of Marilyn Manson. Fucking poser. This song will do, though. I reach for my panties and slide them down over my ankles, bringing them up to his eyes. As I tie them to the back of his head, his grin gets wider. My eyes flick out to where his wife is again, and she’s gone, her seat empty.
I shoot a small grin out to the crowd from behind my shoulder before I press my index finger right to the center of his throat while hooking my other arm around his neck to hold him in the spot. Licking him across the lips as he struggles to catch his breath, I whisper softly over his lips, “You can fight it, but it only makes me wet. Feel free to check if you like. Feeling pussy for the final—hmm, twenty seconds of your life on this earth is what you would want, right? You like touching pussy?”
His body begins shaking. He’s taking too long, but I lap it up. The anger and malice is swimming deep in my veins now, caged and burned by this life I will always live. Finally, his body stills and his full weight falls into my arms. I lay him down on his stomach and place my heel over his back as the audience claps with a round of applause. They’ll all be thinking the same thing.
Wow. Her death trick is spectacular. Then they’ll walk out these doors and not think twice about it.
Someone shifts out from the back as the light turns off and the two Dolls who were on the stage with me circle the two on the pole. This is what the audience thinks is the skit. Where we pretend that the girls are tied and gagged and helpless, and that the ones who bid on them would save them.
Some men bring their wives for cover, some couples come together. Date night, little do they know, husband just purchased himself a new toy. Rich men can have everything; and fuck, do they make sure they do.
I leave through the backstage, just as a hand wraps around my wrist and tugs me behind a curtain.
“Lilith!” Bear squeezes my arm. “What the fuck are you doing back here?”
“Why the fuck does it matter?” I pull my arm out of her grip. “You being at The Connoisseur was a fucking close call, Bear. Seriously!”
“You got out, that’s why! I needed to make sure you were okay, only to see you comfortable with Kiznitch! And a King!”
