Blood Red Rose

Three long hours she waited for him here in this dingy little bar. She hated this city and this cesspool just happened to be in the worst part of it. Looking around the room she saw people drinking. Drinking to forget, drinking to feel strong or beautiful or just drinking to be so drunk that they reach that point where nothing but the buzzing in their head is all they hear. She felt sorry for them.

She looked around at the walls with it faded pictures of past glories and past stars that once frequent the establishment. She saw past owners shacking hands with the rich and the famous in the old black and white pictures. She couldn't help but laugh to herself when she saw the picture of Christopher up on the wall. She tried to remember what name he went by back in those days but couldn't bring the name out of the fog. He was so vain even after all these years. To drag her into one of his old haunts was so very much his style.

She turned back to the bar. The bartender kept smiling at her with that "so whatcha doing later" smile. His hair was pulled back into a pony tail despite the fact the man had began to lose his hair way too early in life. His shirt hung open showing a golden cross peaking out of the deep growth of chest hair. The cross made her smile. She wondered why men like him wear them. She was willing to bet that he hasn't been to church in over a dozen years yet he still wear the cross proudly. Like no matter what sins he does in life the fact that he wore the cross while doing them was like a free pass to heaven. She hated men like that. Noticing her smiling at him, he did this thing with his eyebrows that was half way between a come hither look and a facial tick. She had to fight her Bloodlust not to jump over the bar and kill him right where he stood.

She turned again to face the crowd. The strip club down the street must have just closed because the bar was slowly filling up with women who were too tired to sleep. She brushed the hair out of her face and then reached into the pocket of her black leather coat. Pulling out a small metal case she opened it and she slid out a hand rolled cigarette. She quickly lit the cigarette with a Zippo she seemed to pull from the air. The young lady rolled the lighter in her fingers smiling at the picture of Dracula etched into the metal face. It was a gift from a man with a very wicked sense of humor.

She signaled for the tab from the grease ball behind the bar. She was sickened by the fact that he had written his number on a napkin that he gave her along with the bill. She dropped a few bills. She turned on her heals and began heading for the door.

"Off so soon" a thick deep voice said from behind her.