I looked out over the scummy city skyline, then I looked into the cracked mirror and realised I was probably the scummiest thing about this city. No matter how beautiful the girls I took for my bed. No matter how much dirty cash and gold jewels I hid behind in this sickly game. A sick pimp’s game. I was always a player, but it all got so out of hand as the years went on I hardly felt like a normal human any more. Maybe I’m supernatural now, or just super fucked up.
She was wheezing softly on the bed, Esme, the beautiful Irish raven haired creature. If I had ever become a real person I could have fallen in love with her; but those privileges are reserved for those who hadn’t yet cut out their souls. Unlike me, I don’t think I remember ever having one. I was born into darkness and never managed to crawl out into the light. I just dug deeper and deeper and dragged anything I could get my hands on so I could see how it felt to feel anything real or with meaning. She meant something Esme did, I don’t know what.
I lamented over my state of mind, how I had been feeling more and more calm lately, not in keeping with my usual unhinged characteristics. It was something to do with Jimmy. The little shit had been snaking his way into my world, he was far too close for comfort now. I had been missing things myself because his cheeky ass was blocking my view of my own business. My own whore house, the world I had built. How dare he, but why not? I’d worked a similar magic to be stood here in rare possession of such unearthly treasures such as the lovely Esme. In terms of free will I would repel her, but with my power and supply of crack cocaine she was a puppet in my greedy hands.
Esme was a real beauty, like a fallen angel but today her face looked different. Her face looked less vulnerable, I could read an alien hope I had never seen across it before. This only added to my feeling of prophetic happenings unbeknown to me. I was too tired though and I felt it was all so beautifully out of my control for once, so I took a deep breath and let go of my lifelong rage and paranoia to s feeling of simplicity and surrender. it was purifying for a second, then through my peace the sound and movement of the door smashing into the floor off the frame violently shook me from my mind.
There he stood, the next worst thing. The next King of the underworld, Jimmy. I spun round to check if Esme was okay, but the bed was empty, the grey sheets almost jeering at me. Then I heard her soft, caressing voice and it’s betrayal sliced me like not blade ever had the power to. She was a new woman.
“That’s the last time you get to fuck me baby, so I hope it felt good. ‘Cos now you’re the one getting fucked.”
Here I am he thought, stuck between a rock and a hard place. The wall and young Jim. Esme an innocent rose between two thorns, her delicate body covered in scratches, inflicted on her by these dark sons of devils. That boy Jim had been clearing up my mess for months now, and this honey trap he’d painted with this green eyed fallen angel was as deep and sticky as any. I looked down at that all too familiar barrel, at the black hole inside staring right back at me. It was judgment day for this sinner, and I welcomed being evicted from my position doing the devil’s slimy, raw red work Continue reading