I
Who dresses in a suit for a nightclub? Oh yes, Max Archer. He stands at the bar. Sticky ground beneath his feet. Questionable stains over the surface between the tapster and all thirsty clientele. Max, making desperate attempts to establish eye contact, loses patience and calls over the blaring music.“Are any of you drudgers going to serve me, or what?” This certainly attracts attention, though not the kind you would want. But Max was used to this.
“Excuse me?” exclaims one of the bartenders, in disbelief at what he has just heard.
“That’s more like it” Max snaps. “Can you please get me a pint of ale?”
The barman knows he has to remain professional, but begrudgingly does as Max asks. Each movement sharp and stubborn.
Max turns to observe the club around him. It is your average setup. Small booths for intimate conversations. Tiled dance floor in the centre. DJ set-up at the front. Plus a fire exit to the balcony designated for smokers. But Max had not come to assess the establishment. He was more interested in a particular type of person that frequents this place.
“Three pound sixty” he hears from behind him.
Max turns back, scans his card, then finishes this exchange with a smug smile.
Viewing his surroundings again, he was observing his one motivation: Women. Sometimes, he would get the nerve to approach some and attempt to speak, but they were rarely interested. Fancying himself as a ladies-man, it was easy for him to get his way in these kinds of clubs. Often he just comes here to lust over the unsuspecting sweating body’s, in their tight and revealing clothes as they dance the night away. Never expressing interest in ‘relationships’ he would get his kicks by ‘accidental’ fondlings while squeezing through narrow gaps. Or by the touch of any revealed skin of women too drunk to know what is happening. ‘They shouldn’t have drunk so much’ is his excuse for these actions. He had experienced police interviews over allegations regarding these scenarios, but they never led to prosecution which furthered his confidence in repeating these behaviours.
At this point, a lovely young woman approaches the bar. Innocent-looking, clearly doesn’t attend these sorts of places often. A nice brunette. Italian Bob hairstyle. Olive skin legs visible from her green satin dress. She doesn’t notice him scanning her up and down, like he’s assessing the Ferrari he could never own.
“A shot of raspberry peak, please”
Her voice is so light.
“Make that two” Max calls across the bar. The same disgruntled man snorts in derision at the nerve of this customer to address him again, before turning back to make the requested beverages.
“I’ll get these” Max says.
“That’s very kind of you.” She replies, with a smile. Stretching out her hand, she adds “My name is Sally”
Max, caressing her hand and gently kissing her knuckle, responds “I’m Max”
The clank of two shot glasses on the bar diverts their attention. Consuming their drinks in one gulp, they feel the tangy air that passes through your teeth after a strong drink. Sharply inhaling with their upper lips curled to cope with the feeling.
“You don’t seem too used to drinking those” Max says.
“To be honest, I don’t really go out often. I prefer to stay at home with… Familiar comforts, let’s say” Sally responds, with an air of guarding what she means by her final choice of words.
Max overlooks this. “We could always ditch this shit-hole and go back to mine?”
Sally gives a shy giggle. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
Max gives a sly smile.
Sally continues “Lucky for you, I’m in a very ‘funny’ mood tonight” as she takes Max’s hand and places it onto her bare thigh.
Certainly feeling stunned, Max’s attention is now focussed on the delicate, smooth surface beneath his hand.
“However. You’re a stranger. So all I ask is we make it my place. If that’s okay with you?”
Max, distracted, stutters “Yeah. Anything you say”
She takes his hand and walks ahead, leading him away to a land of pleasure and fantasy.
II
After treading the rain-ridden streets, they finally reach Sally’s apartment. Approaching the block of flats, a small black key fob is scanned next to the building's main door, followed by a buzz. Signalling admittance, the door swings open and both enter. Sill holding her keys, Sally steps towards and unlocks apartment 1A.
The place isn’t anything special. Your average 1 bedroom flat. Modern design with a cream coloured theme. But what made it special for Max, was the picturesque woman within whom he was just salivating at the idea of getting his hands on. Removing her red-laced shoes, Max approaches from behind, slowly and hesitantly places his hands on her hips. Sally doesn’t resist this. He leans in and slowly kisses the side of her neck. She giggles at the tickling sensation this creates in her. Turning to face him, she slowly touches his lips with hers and they embrace one another.
“Max” She whispers, as he continues to kiss her neck. “Are you going to do everything I want tonight?”
Heavily breathing with lust, he responds “You name it. I’ll do anything for you”.
She takes a step back. Majestically bringing both hands up to the straps on her dress, she elegantly pulls them aside and allows the number to drop to the floor. The dress falls like a red curtain at the start of a show. Max fumbles at his belt buckle and begins to remove his clothing, less majestically as he feels overcome with his want and sexual desire. She, again, takes his hand and escorts him to her bed. He takes a seat on the plaid linen bedspread, then Sally leans into his ear and whispers.
“Wait here. Close your eyes. I’ve got a surprise for you”
Max leans back against the headrest and shuts his eyes. He can hear her light footsteps on the lino floor as she steps away. She is gone for what seems like an eternity to Max, but is more like 30 seconds. She returns. He can feel her warm, irresistible presence.
In another whisper, she breathes “Open your eyes, sweetie”.
Parting his eyes with eager anticipation, Max’s lascivious look transforms into one of fright and nausea. Sat before him is not the seductive Sally he was hoping to be greeted by, but instead a man. A man stripped of clothing except for his underwear and a black gag in his mouth. An expression of fear and panic is striking in this stranger’s face, with sweat drenching him as he thrashes around. Sally is still present, but stood to his side. She is smiling at both of them. Frozen by fear, Max sits in stunned silence trying to breathe through the heavy rocks that seem to now be present in the pit of his stomach.
“Well, isn’t this nice” Sally delights in saying, with a satisfied smile. “I forgot to mention that I only really get aroused by men like you… bleeding out.”
At this, she reveals a knife from behind her back. With a quick thrash of her arm, the knife slashes down and impales the neck of the gentleman opposite max. Blood instantly spills out, accompanied by the sound of a drowning cough and gurgle from what remains of the severed throat. Max has no time to react, as he sees the same knife heading his way at an unimaginable speed. He feels it make contact in a similar place, followed by what could only be described as the largest lump he has experienced in his gullet. Collapsing on his side across the sheets, he watches the sea of red ooze out in front of him. Vision blurry. Light fading. With his last remaining stuttered breath, he can make out the once beautiful tanned female skin being replaced by his red innards gleefully smeared all over the naked body of whom he had been in admiration of not 5 minutes ago.
‘Men like you’ he hears in his head, as the last light in his eye is expelled to the great beyond.
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