by Robert C Ray
"I will catch you one right away," the man in front of her stated, but as he turned, she grabbed his tattooed arm, and brought him back to her attention.
"I would like to catch it myself," she said with a pout, "please."
Her brain emitted a pulse that raised his testosterone to unthinkable levels, and her voice was literally hypnotic, yet neither of these things were even necessary to convince him.
"Yeah, sure," he told her as he nearly walked backwards into the iced display. "I'll toss it to you myself."
He figured that this was the least that he could do, since he could not catch it for her, for his mind, as well as other parts of himself, thirsted for her attention.
She placed her hand over her mouth, and giggled as he stumbled about, just to find his way back behind the counter, constantly looking back at her as though she might vanish if he looked away too long.
Finally, he found the best one within his reach, as all of his coworkers were left where they stood, simply mesmerized by her. He lifted it, and wondered how he should toss it, since she seemed so delicate, and surely, he had no desire to see her harmed in even the slightest way. Still, he needed to do it.
As he hesitated, she tilted her head, and widened her eyes slightly, as if to say, "Are you going to throw it, or what," and this certainly gave him renewed confidence.
Taking a deep breath, he drew back on the fish, and rocked it forward, only to draw back on it once more. Forward it went again, and he released it at a high arc, as to allow it to get to her without great velocity.
Through the air it flew, and all eyes were upon it, which is why no one had seen the blade slide from Viper's sleeve, into her hand. Down it came, but she determined that it was twice as much as she needed, and as it reached her, she sliced it cleanly in half as she spun down to one knee to face the other way.
The blade found its way back into its hiding place, and neither half of the salmon ever hit the ground, as she caught one in each hand.
With a more sensual turn, she raised back up, and tilted her head slightly, with the mischievous smile and eyes, as everyone nearby stood silent.
"I could never eat the whole thing," she said in a seemingly shy, yet most charming manner, and suddenly the crowd, and the workers erupted in a roar of cheers.
She bounced in a playful, tickled way, delighted to feel for the first time, what it was like to entertain. It was a most satisfying feeling, and though she would love to do some more, she determined that it was enough, for there were many more things to experience in life.
With a gentle swing of her tiny form, she tossed half of the fish back to the worker, and after a brief pause, the other one followed. One was enough to distract many, but two in opposite locations could easily confuse the senses.
One worker caught the first, and another the second, yet when the display was over, anyone who looked back to Viper, had found that she was no longer there. She had vanished as quickly as she had appeared, and they all stood amazed.
Quietly she slipped into the nearest cab, and directed him to drive. Any direction was fine, she told him, as long as it lead to a small, secluded bar.
Opening the wallet she had found in her hands, after passing through the crowd, she pulled out only the cash, which totaled less than seventy dollars. She could tell that it belonged to a local man from a time before she had even found it in her possession, so nothing else in it concerned her, and it was more money than she needed for her next stop.
"Someone left this in your back seat," she told the cabby with a smile that he certainly noticed.
Finally, they reached the place that he had in mind. It was a small secluded bar, and was not a place that tourists would frequent, but all that she cared about was that it was not crowded.
"How much do I owe you," she asked, thinking that she would actually pay for something, only to find that he wasn't about to allow it.
"This one’s on me," he told her, simply happy to have given a ride to such a beautiful, young lady.
Entering the decrepit bar, she quickly noticed that she was the only female in the establishment, but wasn't the least bit surprised. It was to be expected in such a place, at four in the afternoon.
The man behind the bar was frail, and seemingly as decrepit as the establishment itself. His hair was as white as the clouds, while his hands shook uncontrollably, and though her presence made him feel something that he had not felt in a very long time, he had long since forgotten what it was good for.
"I would like a double shot of Southern on the rocks," she told him as she smiled, and laid a twenty on the polished, hardwood counter, "and some quarters for your pool table."
"Why of course," he said in a raspy voice that trembled as much as his hands did. "Would you like some quarters too?"
Certainly, he had heard her, though his mind functioned about as poorly as the rest of his body, and she simply sat there and watched, wondering if he would actually get the quarters, if she gave no reply.
Amazingly, he remembered what she ordered, and poured it without spilling a drop. Even as his hands shook while setting it in front of her, not a bit of liquor escaped the glass, and she realized that she had no need to stir it.
Then he turned to the register, and began to slowly peck at the keys, and though it was not the grandest of displays, he completed the task flawlessly, before turning back to her.
"There you go, mister," he said as he placed her change in front of her, without ever actually looking up at her, and she was quite tickled. The fact that there were two dollars worth of quarters with it, was simply astounding.
Lifting the tall shot, she threw it back, and then set the emptied glass back on the hardwood. It was not as though it would actually have any effect on her, but she did it for the memories.
Andrew and Greg were fine, young men, and Amber had made her feel more sensual than she ever had before. She wished that she could have spent more time with all three of them, yet things needed to be done.
She also remembered how it felt to dance seductively in front of them, and how the rate of their heartbeats seemed to match her every step, like a cobra to the charmer.
She also remembered how she, herself, was charmed by the rhythm, and how it flowed through her body like the current of a winding river, or a breeze that gently shifted from side to side. More than anything, this is what she wanted right now, and this is what she would have.
She swayed like a church bell on a virgin man's wedding day, as she approached the jukebox with her quarters in hand, and all but the bartender stood mesmerized by her motions. She had not intended to, though certainly, she had raised the temperature of the room with her sensual display.
Such a motion could be intentional for her, had she wished, for she had surely been trained in the art of seduction, but it had also never been a choice. She was forced to do everything that her captor had instructed, to the point where it actually became natural to her.
Stepping up to the instrument, she placed her delicate left hand upon the glass, and tossed her tiny hips in the same direction, as she wandered through the selection. She had not been allowed to experience such sort of music in the memories that they had given her, so she was eager to explore.
The first song that jumped out at her was one called "beautiful", and feeling so, she fed the machine just enough to hear it.
As the song began, she started to sway slowly, and sensuously, but the words were not making her feel beautiful at all. Instead, they were words of loneliness, yet still she closed her eyes, and became enveloped by the sensation.
Then, Eminem began his rap, and the words became even more personal, but still she gained motion from them, while remaining ever feminine. They were words that reminded her of what she was, and how lonely they had actually created her. They were words that began to rip at her very soul, and though she enticed every patron in the bar with her display, her heart was slowly being ripped apart.
His second verse tore at her even
more, pointing out how different she really was, and by extension, how truly alone as well. Although they gave her the means to fit into any situation, they certainly caused her to feel as though she fit into none.
The third verse was meant to be somewhat uplifting to someone in such a situation, though it did well to make her feel even more alone. There was certainly no one that could ever fit into her shoes, and she sincerely hoped that no one would ever have to.
As the song started to end as it had began, the pain that she felt overwhelmed her, and her emotional weakness stumbled her until her back rested against the wall. Slowly she slid down, until she found herself hugging her calves, and sobbing into her knees.
Why had they made her this way, she wondered, knowing that the question was rhetorical. The true question was how could they have done so?
Then a man began to approach from the bar, and though she was still consumed by her own emotions, she could detect his vital signs, and his step easily told her his intentions. He was rather intoxicated, and sloppy in his approach, and it only angered her frail emotions.
He actually got about fifteen feet away from her before she responded. With one quick leap, she landed in a three-point stance in front of him, with her free hand in a clawed posture, as she looked up at him from the floor. The growl that she let out, which resembled that of a cougar mixed with a woman was more than enough to cause him to fall backwards onto the hard floor. He scurried away he did, without ever rising up, until he felt himself at a safe distance.
Scurry could also describe the way that she returned to the wall, to curl back up into a ball to cry some more, though she certainly looked more beautiful than he did doing so.
At this, another man stood, and he was far less intoxicated than the first. Her emotional state did much to cause her confusion within her advanced senses, yet she was aware enough to hear him as he approached the jukebox, and though her presence affected him, he was much more in control of himself than anyone else in the room.
He inserted a dollar bill into the machine, and she could sense that he did not turn her way as he selected two songs. Surely, his intentions were directed her way, and as soon as the first song began, so was the rest of him.
She did not look up from where she cried. She did not have to, because he now had all of her attention, and she was well aware of everything around her. His heartbeat told her that he was certainly interested in her, but his pores did not emit the scent of nervousness. His step was confident and compassionate, according to the vibrations she felt from the floor, and she was certain that he was smiling at her sympathetically.
The song had a beautiful piano melody, and the words were quite comforting from the start. It was quite the opposite of the one that had put her in the position that she was now in, and he was telling her that she was quite desirable through such words. It was a song called "Lady", by the Little River Band, and she found herself being the one that was charmed.
Looking up at him, she found him holding out his hand to her, with a smile that was as charming as it was compassionate. He was a handsome man, with short brown hair, a well-trimmed beard, and eyes of the deepest brown, and he stood there patiently.
Finally, with her left hand, she reached out to his right, and allowed him to lift her gently from the floor. As soon as she stood, she lunged into him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and burying her face within his torso.
His hand tenderly caressed her long, blonde hair, as her tears wet his shirt, and he held her tightly, allowing her to release her emotions upon him. The song he had chosen spoke beautifully to her, and she soon found herself adoring the one that had come to her rescue.
Sensing her release, they began to sway slowly to the rhythm of such a song, but it was already ending. How fortunate she thought it was that the next one was as equally enchanting.
It was called "Let Me Be Myself", and it was not enchanting in the way of love, but rather in the way that a human heart yearns for freedom and acceptance. Nonetheless, it still drew her closer to him, for he seemed to know exactly what she needed.
"Will you take me home with you?" she asked as she looked up at him, and stroked his heart with her pale green eyes. "Will you hold me tonight?"
Smiling down upon her, he saw her as a wounded angel in need of help, and determined that he would do whatever would bring peace to her heart.
"Certainly I will."
She buried herself into him once more, yet only for a moment, for she felt the need to be totally honest with him.
"If you make love to me," she told him as she captured the attention of his brown eyes once more, "I would have to kill you."
"Of course you would," he smiled, before pulling her back to himself.
CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN
Demigods eye to eye
Sangmu had been sitting in a meditative state upon the eloquent sofa for about two hours. Her eyes were closed, her legs in a full lotus position, and her hands rested on her inner thighs, with palms up. Not a sound had she made the entire time, and her only motion was that of a slow, tranquil breath.
For a while, Ryan had paced, not knowing how long she would remain like this, and then he sat in the chair, and just stared for a while. He had no idea when she would put her perception back upon him, but he was certainly not going to interrupt her.
Now he stared out the window, knowing that Viper was out there somewhere, eager to end his existence, and though he was not someone prone to fear, this situation was far different. It was not another human being that he was up against, but rather a demigod created by men. As much as he would like to deny it, he would be terrified if, not for the fact that Mirage was here by his side.
"I have to go get some things," she finally spoke, and it about startled him, but he was quickly melted by the sound of her voice.
"How long will you be?" he asked, as he turned away from the window to face her, yet she was already in front of him.
"I am not certain," she told him as she placed her hands softly upon his cheeks, before placing a brief, though tender kiss upon his lips, "but please stay away from the window, and wait for me to return."
It was a passionate request, but it might have well been an order from the president himself, for there was no way that he would do otherwise.
"Certainly, Sangmu," he replied with a charming smile, and such a response had bought him a far more passionate lip lock, and embrace. This, of course, was as much as he could have hoped for at the moment, and he accepted it fervently.
“You can call me Sang for short.”
* * *
The man’s apartment was right around the corner from the small bar, and Viper had walked hand in hand with the man that had so completely charmed her. It was an unusual feeling. One that could compare to helplessness mixed with elation, and she did not know how to respond, so she chose only to follow for a time.
His dwelling was a bit modest in size, yet decorated in a most artistic fashion, and the theme was an intellectual's perspective on solitude.
Within his room, there were only two candles, for that is all it took to set the mood of romance, and they glistened upon the black comforter that adorned his queen-sized bed. He had not taken her into his room, for it was her own request, and she was the one that insisted upon the candles being lit as well, though still she was who she was.
He was both gentle and passionate with her, teaching her the difference between sex, and making love. The animals would engage in such acts because that is what our bodies tell us to do, and it brings pleasure and procreation, but what she had learned was that the proper amount of passion, mixed with a consuming emotion of gentle desire, created a sensation like no other.
It was so intense that it almost frightened her, yet she was helpless to its design. It was the epitome of two souls converging, and she enveloped him whole-heartedly.
This moment, however, had come to an end, and though her body and mind still tingled from the illustrious event, she stood conf
used in his bathroom, staring back at her own reflection. She questioned every thought within her mind, and wondered which might be right, and which might be futile.
She walked out of the bathroom, and back where he laid motionless, and simply stared down at him. She had told him that she would kill him if he made love to her, but he took that chance anyway.
Somehow, she thought that there must be a place for him in heaven, despite his actions, and she had sent him there in the gentlest of ways. She wished for a moment that she did not have to kill every man that would become intimate with her, yet the urge was uncontrollable. She was not certain if her creators had done this to her by design, or if it was simply a result of the torment that they had put her through, but she knew that it was simply who she was, no matter which was true.
Leaning over, she kissed him on the forehead before leaving his apartment. She would have liked to have stayed longer, and simply stared at him for a while, but there were things that needed to be done. Certainly, he would never awaken from the sleep that she had put him in, to tell her goodbye.
* * *
The cathedral was beautiful, with candlelight reflecting off stained glass windows, and though Mirage noticed them, she had one very important task on her mind. Sitting in a pew in the center of the church, was a petite blonde that was nowhere near as fragile or as innocent as she appeared. She was Viper, and she was every bit as deadly as her name would indicate.
Despite all of this, Mirage was hardly afraid, for she was well able to take care of herself, and when she reached where she was, she sat down beside of her.
"I heard that you had been killed," Viper stated without looking her way, "though I should have known better."
Mirage stared straight ahead as well, not at all surprised that she knew whom she was. Viper was a very intelligent woman, and she was well aware of her capabilities.
