A Kiss To Death

He stroked the black mist that was his hellish cat. His face formed into a devilish version of a smile, at least he was in relatively high hopes for the future. There was much for death to look forward to, the majority of which the other creatures above humans looked down upon. Death hated the feeling of having to wait for stupid people to die. Drunk drivers, alcoholics, and thrill seekers were his least favorite. Though in some regards he did enjoy the peculiar deaths of some of them, none he hadn’t seen before of course.

His perfectly calloused hands flipped through the channels of human’s lives. Occasionally he would press a button, and the person would die of an unexpected death. Death sighed.

Should I start another plague? There are so many humans. He thought in passing. The handsome man threw the remote at his number six. After a while names molded together and faces melted in the heat leaving the same empty feeling of another presence that meant nothing. “Let me know if anything peculiar happens... unlikely as it is,” he said in passing to the man who walked over to his throne and sat down with his legs tucked underneath him in front of it.

“Understood sir” The man ran his hands through his hair. He was so tired, tired of being called sir, tired of having people fear him, tired of people not fearing him; he was just so tired. Existence means little to nothing when the only thing to look forward to was the eternity he would inevitably spend alone. His shoes clicked along the grey floors of his home. A smash thundered through the long hall as he struck a pot that was thousands of years old. He slammed his hands against the wall successfully cracking it beneath his hand.

He needed to disappear for a while. Soon he entered his room where he quickly stripped of his formal suit and into a pair of jeans and a black shirt that hugged his body. He enjoyed dressing as the modern humans did, they had style, and he had great looks. Tonight, he was leaving for an extended trip.

Rose glossed her lips a final time and readjusted her shirt exposing more of her cleavage. She loved herself when she looked so sexy, and tonight was her night. Grabbing her bag she left her apartment and got into her Uber. The old man didn’t talk, happy she wouldn't have to socialize she smiled while texting her friend.

’Meet you there! So excited!’

It would be her first time going to a club that comprised of the darker side of LA. Her twenty-first birthday was a couple of days ago, and she was just so hyped to be kind of like an adult. Her Long blonde hair hanging down by her sides reached all the way past her hips with a slight curl she played with it in nervous excitement for the night about to unfold. Soon she arrived at the club that looked a bit rough. Rose stepped out of the car and thanked the driver who nodded and sneaked a glance at her breast. She sighed it off and grabbed her small black purse out of the white car. Closing the door, the girl was hugged from behind. She could already hear her best friends laugh behind her.

The girl behind her had beautiful dark brown hair that faded into a mushroom brown. It was evident by her appearance that she too was excited for the night. She had taken the time to put on a full face of makeup and flat iron her usually curly and large hair. She was dressed in a beautiful black lace bodysuit with slits down the front and sides and black tassels hanging down giving her a beautiful sheik coloring that matches amazingly well with her caramel skin town.

“Imani you look beautiful!” Rose told her excited. She laughed and brushed her hair to the side.

“I know girl I always kill it” It was Rose’s turn to laugh. But it was true she was the fashionista of their friendship. “But DAMN girl you are looking fine!” She made her do a spin. The blondes slightly curled hair hanged down, she wore faded skinny jeans that were ripped and laid a bit lower, beneath she wore fishnet tights that hooked onto her hips. On top she wore a red crop top that showed a lot of cleavage, she didn’t care. She stood tall at five foot seven with extra height from the heels. “Hey, I’m almost as tall as you,” Imani told her best friend. Usually, the chocolate swirl girl was five-foot-one. So, it was a change for Rose to see her now standing a few more inches higher.

“You must have gotten stripper shoes just to get a few inches” Imani hit her leaving a sting on Roses’ arm. She laughed gently and took her arm.

“Bar first and then dancing?” Imani asked the girl who was next to her.

“I’ll buy the first round you get the second?” She asked the girl who was trying to peek inside of the dark building.

“Hopefully we won’t have to buy any drinks. I mean if we are lucky” Rose laughed, and they began to walk forward into the building that had a hidden sort of feeling to it.

She was a bit hesitant at first. “We are at the right place, right?” they had gotten the location from one of the girls at the dorm who was a bit more emo than the rest. Of course, Rose didn’t mind she for one was a repressed emo as was Imani. She didn’t pay Rose any mind and walked forward dragging her along for whatever ride they were in for.

They walked through the door, and the feeling of the base hit them with astounding intensity. Lights danced through the large room as many bodies danced and grinded into each other. The lingering smell of alcohol wafted through the air mixed with sweat, weed and many other scents better left for the first experience of a club. They looked at each other and grinned. Soon they were making their way through the large group of bodies that were fading together on the dance floor leaving barely any room for the duo to slip through the dirty husks of people once known.

Something struck her for a moment as she looked around. None of the people were with who they were meant to be. She shook the unnatural thought out of her head and placed a smile back on her face.

Finally, the two made it to the bar. “four shots please!” Imani almost yelled at the bartender. He asked for ID’s, and they showed him them in all their new shining glory. Rose’s picture was of her with her hair pulled into a bun and no makeup on. She wasn’t expecting to take a picture that day and didn’t give a damn. While Imani was the exact opposite, she wore a cute sweater makeup done, and her hair flat ironed. He poured the drinks, and they each took one into their hands. In unison, they stared at each other.

“Three, two, one!” and they were freed from the shackles that humans are confined too. Floating and freedom in the form of a liquid. It was the night’s fury.