A 2003 black BMW 6 Coupé with tinted windows slowly drives up Leslie Avenue. The car stops at the red light while the driver leisurely scans the lines of women standing across the street displaying a portrait of dirty rainbow. His eyes critically scan each women from head to toe; leaning against the dirty brick wall, their hips widen with lecherous invitations. Their heads were covered in platinum wigs; and feet tucked into a red four inch heels; was sending ludicrous attempts across the street.

He finds her, enclosed by two ostentatious dressed women with raucous laughter almost as if to conceal her presence. His preference always had the same appearances; a certain taste developed since his forgotten youth. He rolls his car to a stop and patiently waits two minute before the woman starts walking toward his car. Her strides were long and sensual as the wind caresses her black shoulder length hair. Eyes almost black and full lips made for kissing, turns around and smiles at the other two women—who continues shouting empty words.

She stops at his car door; her hands on her hips while her purse smugly hugs her underarm, waiting. He rolls down his window to get a good look at her and smiles; he knew she will not be disappointed with his appearance. She smiles confirming his statement. He knows he made the right decision when he felt desire stirring by her open mouthed smile. He unlocks the door and watches as she gets in the car.  She sits, her head thrown back, and her tight skirt hitches up her thighs- white creamy thighs. If she looks down, he’ll bet his desire was providing evidence at the moment.  

He drives to a two level motel; its shabby sign shimmering ‘LoneStar’ in bright glittery red left no doubt to the minds of bystanders about the transaction waiting to be conducted. They walk the rusty stairs to the second level. He stops at the last door and opens it. She walks in, her walk once again directed and determine as if she been here before and sets her purse on the small dresser.

She turns around to face him “So pretty boy, you got a name?”  

He heads toward her, and replies “Rurik”.

She walks toward him, her hips gently swaying left to right as if she was born to walk like that.

She stands chest to chest with him due to her high heel; he lifts up her chin and looks at her.

‘Yours?” without smiling she replies “Pleasure”. 

They both stood in the small dim lighted room staring at each other; no words were needed to communicate the desire rasping in his eyes. He looks away first; a look of anger slowly draws on his face.

“Do you know who I am?”  He looks back at her face and sees her smile.

“Of course!” Her voice stands firmly seductive and husky while she walks around him; her finger traces down his spine and pushes him on the bed. At that moment he wondered if she really did know him.

“No one knows me. Are you sure that you know me?” He pulls her down on him and takes her finger into his hands. He slowly brings the finger to his lips tracing the outline of his lips. She smiles at him “I am sure.”

“So you wouldn’t be surprise with what I’m planning to do nor would you question the reasons.”  His voice indicated that it was not a question but rather a matter of fact.

“Yes.” Taking her finger away, she walks toward the washroom “Relax Rurik, I’ll be right back.”

 

She stands in front of the mirror, her luminous eyes epitomizing the unexpected occurrence. She inhales deeply and exhales, forcing a smile she walks out the door.

He lay on the bed; his shirt and pants removed to reveal a hard lean body.

 “Come here.”

She follows the indication of his finger.  She moves toward the bed, remembering to sway her hips and pout her lips. He sits on the edge of the bed and grabs her hips, head leaning against her stomach; he looks up and roughly asks “What do you know about me?” 

She grabs his hair, her finger running through its soft waves.

 “Everything.”

 He grabs her and flips her on the bed; lies on top of her and growls “You know nothing!”

The hardness of his body presses against her as an abundance of need to overthrow him assaulted her. She suppresses her need. She smiles and runs her hands over his back. The surprise look on his face left no doubt this might be his best joy so far. She flips him over and sits on top of him. He grabs her neck hard and smashes their lips together. He kisses her with anger; leaving no qualm where he seeks pleasures from.

Both of their hands slowly roam toward the pillow. Underneath the pillow, their hands touch. The astonish look on his face indicated that he now knew that she indeed, was not lying when she said she knew who he was. The hesitation and realization of his mistake allows her to take the knife hiding under the pillow. 

Quickly lifting the knife, without any hesitations she stabs his neck. His bawling was muffled by her stabbing him in his chest.

She didn’t care where she aim, just wanted him to feel her rage and pain. Blood stain the white sheets, but she continues. She knew the places to stab him, as if she memorized and practiced beforehand.

She looks down at his anguish face and smoothly asks “This is what you do isn’t it? You like doing this to others don’t you?” She took the edge of the blade and slowly steer it down his arms and legs and whispers “This is what you did to her, isn’t it? You did it to all of those girls. You didn’t even have the decency to pay them afterwards.”

She walks toward her hand bag to brag a pair of gloves. Slipping them on, she walks toward the washroom to clean the knife and herself. She returns back to the room, where he laid on the bed, his wan face holding a flabbergast expression; she throws the knife at his lifeless body.

“So stunned with shock that you couldn’t even fight me. Stupid.”

She grabs her purse and throws two fifties on the bed. She heads toward the door and whispers “That was for my sis.”