Chapter 1
Multi-colored lights glimmer in a dark packed hall, dimly illuminating faces to shades of red, purple, and lime green as they pass, ultimately creating a beaming spotlight onto an oval-shaped stage in the middle of the ground floor that’s surrounded by full-grain leather armchairs special for a much closer audience. Scattered around are tables with more like-chairs, spreading to darker sections under the shade of a gallery that runs around the hall from the upper floor; and at the far side up north-east, a bar can be seen with a bartender pouring drinks while some exotic beauties in lingerie wander around balancing trays of liquor as ordered by various men in their comfy seats.
Electronic music blares in the background and a few topless women in lacy thongs can be seen seductively grinding themselves against horny men’s groins who are leisurely sitting back on their armchairs; some holding their drinks in one hand and the other touching and roaming their vixen’s provocative features, some going far as to pinch the tantalizing nipples that are playfully brought close to their faces, whilst some rest back, simply drinking and enjoying the lap dance they’ve paid for.
Where am I, you would ask.
Well..
“Bambi, darling, the show is about to start,” a tall man with short blond hair styled in a low fade, wearing a casual black t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans saunters backstage, “Are you ready?”
I fight a smile, giving him one of my most confident looks, and flip my hair, “When am I never, Jack?”
He pauses a few paces before me, his brown orbs scanning me from top to bottom then he whistles, “You’re gonna make it rain, you sly little demoness!”
“That’s what I do best,” I smirk, throwing a glance at a nearby narrow six-foot mirror, coming face to face with a tall woman thanks to her black six-inch t-strap heels that make her long legs look endless. But I can promise she’s not a shorty without them.
Black lacy lingerie compliments her gorgeous, voluptuous figure—the room can never be packed for a plain Jane after all. A lacy push-up bra holds her endowed chest tantalizingly, but it also does a poor job of hiding her dark nipples and that’s the main point, to make them drool before the real fun begins. The G-string… I slightly turn, getting a perfect angled back view; it does her curvaceous hips and big booty justice. A lacy garter belt embraces her small waist enticingly, its straps stretching down her thick thighs to hold her dark stockings up.
Her skin is a flawless medium bronze that glitters under the club’s wandering dim-lights, smooth-looking as it feels when one touches the finest of silks; and her ebony curly locks are pressed straight today, cascading to her lower back rather elegantly.
I twirl, letting him see how ready I am, finishing with one of my playful sexy poses, my hand coming to rest on my tiny waist and I give him a wink, “Oh, it better be. I’m in need of some cash, like fast.”
He nods, a small smile pulling on his lips, “What song should I play for ya, baby?”
“Dandy,” I tell him, “.. then ravage.”
“Damn!” he rubs his hands like a toddler in front of a cookie jar, “Be ready on five,” he winks, and turns to venture back to the stage, bringing the mic in his hand close to his mouth, stopping the playing music and seeking the crowd’s attention.
I take a deep breath, putting on my silver trim colombina mask that syncs perfectly with my fishtail eye makeup; these big hooded chocolates better spot me a deep pocket to tease or I won’t be leaving with the right amount after tipping off all these losers, including Jack. Oh yes, I shouldn’t forget the club’s thirty percent, epic.
Hearing my name outside, I plaster my usual come and get me smile and rock my sexy walk onto the stage, swaying my hips as I make my way to the pole, my eyes carefully scanning the gentlemen who are sitting around the stage, waiting to toss their dollar bills at me. Well, they better tip me right, for I’ve got quite a show for them today.
The rest of the club cheers, and the usual comments from the tables are thrown my way, they’re not the best, but the money is good so it’s okay. As I throw a glimpse at the gallery upstairs, I notice a couple of dark figures by the railing, peering down at me. That’s good enough.
So, I’m the star of the show, I always have been for two years now, and I’ve grown quite popular to say the least, I bring in more customers and I get more tips, it’s a win-win. Amid the cheers and a few dollar bills already flying my way; there are also glares, sharp daggers of envy shooting in my direction, but my smooth skin grows scales sometimes, so venomous that they repel all evils tossed my way and send them back to where they come from.
It’s not my fault horny men like me better. I simply give them what they want and collect what I want.
Flipping my hair to the side, I place my hand on the pole doing a pose on the beat of the starting music, winking at the man sitting directly from me, his thinning grey hair and a Rolex on his wrist giving him away. Gotcha!
Yes, these are the easiest prey.
As the beat drops, I turn around and bend down seductively, swinging my ass side to side, giving him a full view of my wiggling peach. I watch him from between my legs, his wide eyes remain glued on my ass while his hand moves on its own, sliding into his coat, pulling out an attractive roll, and tossing it on me. Fuck! That must be a grand.
My hands slowly trail up to my hips as I stand and I let the music take me, its hypnotic melody embraces me, making me move to its rhythm, outstretching my arms and swaying my hips to every beat, rolling my waist in the most erotic way I know, going lower, and lower until my knees are on the floor.
Directly in front of me, there’s a dark-haired serious-looking man, his intense dark monolid eyes home in mine, and I can’t decide whether he’s Japanese or Korean—anywho, he’s hot, and the fabric of his suit doesn’t look cheap. I roll over with the rhythm, my eyes trained on him as I lift my legs and kick them in the air, then spread them wide apart, my hand creeping down and slipping into my panties.
I flutter my eyes, moaning as I slowly flick my bud—rich people, they always make me hot.
The side of his lips twitch, and he throws a roll, HA!
Slipping out my hand, I roll over to lie on my belly and arch my back up, lifting my ass with my eyes still trained on the Asian guy and shaking it with the beat. I hold on to the ground and rise on all fours, then whine it with the rhythm, letting my smooth waist rotate freely as I whip my hair here and there. Standing on my knees and raising my arms over my head, I shake my hips like a belly dancer and smile at him, before hauling myself on my feet and dancing like a feather caught in the breeze, light, effortless, and full of grace.
The hall explodes the moment my hands slip back and grab the hook of my bra; smirking, I sway my lips some more, slowly unhooking it then stop to knead my breasts instead, ignoring the fact that I was about to slip the loose garment off.
And it starts to rain, literally.
Jack was right!
The hall starts chanting that I should pull it off, but I still want to buy some time. I turn to my rich old man and innocently bite my lip, fluttering my eyes as I move my body sensually. Tell me, Grandpa, should I?
His Adam apple bobs, his hand moving again, then it stops, hesitating.
Fighting a smile, I slide the bra off me, swing it in the air, and toss it onto his face. The crowd goes wild and his hand doesn’t hesitate anymore. Another roll is dropped my way and I turn around, heading to the pole, jumping on it the moment my favorite bridge starts playing and do a secretary spin around that ends with a split on the ground, one hand holding the pole and the other outstretched in the air.
A couple of minutes later, it’s my G-string that’s flying to the Asian man, leaving me bare and free, touching myself while I seductively sway my hips and press my back against the pole, watching on as they toss money onto the stage. Turning around I hook the pole with my leg and arch my body backward, working myself into a basic invert that has me turning upside down leaving my head hanging, one leg of mine remaining wrapped around the pole while the other hangs outside, and I spread it enough for all of them to get a clear look of my asshole, and for those who are looking from upstairs, they can clearly see my pussy, all wet with all the money they keep tossing my way.
Ravage is about to end, and I’m on a Jade Split, spreading my legs wide for all the rainmakers to drool. I swing some more, choosing the most erotic poses I know to make them sweat, and sometimes, I playfully moan, finding a way to slide a finger into my pussy and suck it to tease them. Trust me, money invigorates me. It turns me ridiculously on.
The moment my feet touch the ground, the song fades in the background and I smile at the crowd, waving, and thanking them for the wonderful tips while they cheer for me, begging for one more song. It’s always two songs for me; never more, never less, and rarely completely nude. I’m done for today.
I know I’ll be needed at the VIP booths upstairs, but I’ll leave Jack to pick the best bidder while I freshen up. Blowing a last kiss and winking at the old man in front of me, I turn around and freeze, tensing, for suddenly, a searing white pain shoots into me through my right rib, then twice in my back, prompting my eyes to bulge out their sockets at the excruciating sensation that powerfully embalms me, tearing me from inside and burning me inside out, forcing me to drop on my knees and collapse onto the floor, in my own growing puddle of crimson mixing with the money I haven’t even spent.
Chaos erupts around me but it’s all a blur really, all I know is this excruciating pain that wrecks me from inside, it’s hot and it burns, it’s piercing and unbearable, my senses are slowly shutting down and I can feel myself declining.
So much for a scaled skin; it can repel many things but unfortunately, it’s not bulletproof.
And I’m dying.
Strangely, everything seems to freeze. The voices around me cease as it goes eerie quiet. I try to blink, weakly, for my eyes feel heavy, and my slightly blurry vision notices a falling chair nearby frozen mid-air, and on a table, a spilling drink doesn’t get to the floor. Everything and everyone is still, it’s like someone pressed pause on the remote and time just stopped?
It feels like I’m in some kind of a twilight zone, but the torturous waves of excruciating hot white pain still radiate all over my body, racking me mercilessly. It’s a harsh reminder of my reality, and maybe this is how dead people see things.
Perhaps it’s my dying brain that’s making me perceive this because logically, what I’m seeing is impossible.
I blink again, spotting something else, unlike everyone and everything around, it moves. The reigning gloom seems to mate well with the figure, and since the roaming dim lights have paused to sorely give the spotlight to the stage, I can make out nothing but a silhouette that’s slowly coming my way.
A prickling sensation engulfs me as I slowly grow numb. Pain seems to seep from me like a wasting Popsicle on a warm day, leaving nothing but emptiness.
The dark figure, the closer it gets, the clearer it becomes, however, I still have to fight the dark fog that’s clouding my vision. A forceful surge from my stomach pushes up and halts in my throat, choking me, overwhelming me to the point my weakening body yields, and I cough pathetically, spewing metallic-tasting liquid that’s also oozing from my nostrils.
Alas, the presence stops before me, and now I understand why it was hard to make it out from the distance; it’s the midnight black hooded robe shrouded around a tall figure. It’s as dark as it can be—almost animative, for it emits some kind of dark smog that blends with the surrounding gloom. As much as I try to make out a face, I can’t, it’s hidden entirely under the dark hood, however, I can see two burning coals staring back at me, a fine depiction of where my soul is going.
He’s holding two things in each hand; a long curving blade fastened at an angle to a long handle—a scythe, and an hourglass containing sand that pours from the upper bulb into the lower, and by the look of things, there’s only a mere minute left, maybe less for the last grain of sand to drop. My eyes linger on the hands, the sight of slender skeleton fingers prompts the hairs on the back of my neck to stand tall and turn completely white. I don’t know what to think of this, I think I know but I don’t want to come to terms with it.
I don’t want to know.
“Ruby Raelynn Levy, your time is up,” a hushed voice feathers into my ears, bringing with it spine-tingling shudders and tears to my eyes. So, it’s true then, he does exist.
And my time has come.
I try to talk, to plead for more time, but I end up coughing out more blood. Beads of terror mixed with agony blind me and spill to the side of my face; I’m gurgling, choking on my blood for my body is too weak to cough it out, I can’t even move a finger. The numbness came with a price, and now I’m completely at his mercy.
The mercy of death itself—the Grim Reaper.
His glowing orbs pierce my soul, reaching out to me in ways I can’t comprehend. If only it wasn’t me on the table, ready to be reaped and sent to the depths of hell where I belong, I’d try to figure what kind of this feeling his intense look invokes. Perhaps it’s a natural connection between life and death that’s messing with me, urging me to accept that this is my end.
Finally, the last grain of sand falls and the hourglass vanishes. My mouth remains open, my eyes round, watching as he wields his big scythe, waving it in the air, ready to slice through me and reap me off the world of the living.
A flash away, my heart leaps as the razor-sharp blade halts a milli-inch from my exposed back, a mortifying breath away from impact. It remains still for a full second, then flies up and drops at full speed, aiming at the left part where my pounding heart is.
As I wait for the scythe’s full impact to put me out of my misery, a sudden flash of blinding light blazes before my eyes at the same time powerful jolting waves engulf me and rack me aggressively, shaking me as if I’m having a seizure, perhaps I am. The pain I once felt comes back twice as more agonizing and excruciating than before, it’s so overwhelming that I can’t take it anymore.
This is it. Goodbye, world.
