Lady of the Night

The air in the city is always the same... a luke warm soup of exhaust and garbage. I stand under the flickering neon sign of a laundromat adjusting my glasses. They’re slightly oversized so they slide down the bridge of my nose like a perfect, fragile detail and my brown hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail. I’ve read the same tactical manuals the monsters have and they all say the same thing... a ponytail is a handle, an invitation to be dragged.

To any stranger, I just look like a girl who missed the last bus. I'm just "Penny," the quiet girl who works at the local diner or in a library and constantly apologizes for taking up space.

Inside? Well that's a different story. I am an ancient, gutted ache. Some people claim to be dead on the inside. Not me. I actually am dead.

I can hear the drunken foot steps approaching. They're heavy and arrogant. Is it two of them? No... three. There's three this time. I can hear the liquid swishing around in the beer cans they’re holding and the alcohol laced blood pumping through their veins, powered by hate filled hearts with bad intent.

"Hey, sweetheart. You look lost," the first one says. He smells like stale cigarettes and dirty laundry.

I force my body to react with a quick little jolt of surprise and I let my shoulders shake. It’s a performance I’ve learned to perfect over the decades. "I'm just waiting for a ride," I mutter quietly.

"Ride’s here," the second one says, stepping out in front and groping his crotch. He bites his lip and smiles at me, stroking the crotch of his pants like it's some glorious prize I should be thankful to receive. He’s a big guy with a thick neck and he's wearing a stained hoodie. He reaches out, his fingers aiming toward my hair.

The moment his dirty hand wraps around the base of my ponytail, the "Penny" they see disintegrates.

They never see it coming and I never get tired of the fear and confusion that overwhelms these losers. My movement is a blur of speed that shouldn't exist in a human frame. I catch his wrist and squeeze, laughing as the bone pulverizes beneath my grip. I don't even allow him time to scream before I drive the heel of my palm into his chin. His jaw snaps, folding upward into his nasal cavity and he drops to the ground like the useless bag of trash he is. Two left.

"What the fuck?!" The next man reaches for a knife in his belt, but I'm ready for him. It's laughable to think a knife could even stop me in the first place. Fucking dork.

I hate them and I refuse to let a single drop of my venom touch their system, so I never bite them. I will not create any more monsters... the world has enough. Instead, I use only my hands. I grab the mans shoulders, my fingers tearing through his leather jacket and sinking deep into the muscle. I twist slowly, enjoying the sound of his rotator cuffs tearing.

He hits his knees, gasping. I step behind him, ignoring the third man, who is currently frozen. I can smell the puddle of piss darkening his jeans. Ew. I lean down towards him, meeting him at eye level.

"Damn," I whisper in his ear. "The night's almost over."

The end of the night means it's the end of my shift and the end of his pathetic life.

I see the first spark of dawn hitting the tops of the skyscrapers. That light can easily burn away my skin and turn whatever is left of my world into ash. If my heart could still beat, it would be hammering against my ribs right now. Time to wrap this up.

I stare at this disgusting creature in front of me. His eyes are wide, reflecting the approaching morning.

"Here comes the sun," I whisper.

I reach out, placing my hands on his cheeks softly and pull. The resistance of the spine lasts for about twelve seconds before the tendons give way with a final pop. His blood sprays my face and although I hate myself for consuming junk food, my body reacts and I lick my lips, forcing my fangs to erupt from my gums.

I turn to face the third man. He’s screaming and slowly backing away, tripping over his own feet. I don't think his drunken brain can even make sense of the scene around him. That's ok, wouldn't have mattered if he ran anyways. He wouldn't have made it even five steps. I catch him by the throat and lift him off the pavement as his boots kick uselessly against my shins.

The sun is crowning now and I can feel the prickle of heat on the back of my neck. With a snarl, I slam him face first into the brick wall of the laundromat and then finish the job with a satisfying snap of the neck.

I wipe my face and turn to leave them there. Just three heaps of filth in a gutter that's slightly cleaner for their absence. I lost my life to criminals just like these only to be awakened by the venom of a vampire who thought he was saving me. Whatever life is left in me will be used to rid the streets of any man who thinks a woman is his to take without permission.

I pull my glasses from the ground and wipe a fleck of something dark off the lens, then I duck into the shadows of the alleyway just as the first golden ray hits the bricks.

This is my entry for L.C. Schäfers Dollar Challenge - Quote Me Baby (Spring Edition)- which you can read about here: