Stories I Never Finished

Addiction

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P R E V I E W

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Blinding lights flashed in strobes of neon shine, piercing through the haze of smoke machines, blurred within clouds as their bright colours bounced across the bodies of dancers whose plastic heels glowed with each swaying step upon polished pedestals.

Heavy bass music pounded, vibrating through every surface and thundering down the walls of neon lights and suggestive posters, a sound so laden with deep unsettling desire it drowned drunken hearts as people danced wildly in clumps of drink-crazy groups; alcohol splashing upon polished neon floor.

The bar bustled with thirsty customers, some collapsing against the counter begging to be served and praying their wild night would disappear within their mind the next groggily sick morning they would suffer through.
Beyond the neon lights and smoke haze, almost hidden within the back of the pub where tables and chairs had reached the edge of a long walkway smack in the centre of the hustling club, sat the owner.

His eyes were dark, wicked in their gleaming need for violence as they trailed across the desirable body of a slender male whose long plastic heels clacked silently against the walkway; a catwalk fit for a king. A cage with no bars, a leash with no collar, he was bound to its glowing stage.

Within a booth of smooth red leather, dressed in pitch black the owner held his unnerving gaze to his prized baby; entranced by the lights glistening against soft, supple, sun kissed skin; body on show with nothing but thin helpless black fabric wrapped from his neck to his upper thighs, a hole slashed through the centre from a violent fight only nights ago.
It was a trophy of unsettling scores, the boss's knife nestled within its hidden pocket of his rich coat itching to slash such petite black fabric until it was nothing but shreds.

Liquor as filthy as the body it slunk within swirled against chilled glass, gently plucked from the table by a strong hand dotted by thick rings and dark markings of inked damnation.

With a tilt of his head, the boss swallowed his remaining drink and slammed his glass back down; rising from his seat with a harsh glint in his gaze the moment tormented hazel eyes flickered toward him. His silence was louder than the thumping music, causing a slight wobble as the slender dancer slunk to the catwalk's floor; his fingertips barely grazing the greedy faces of those watching with ravenous hunger.

Slipping through the back exit, the boss leaned back against the cold brick wall of his club; standing within its back alley as his fingers pulled a cigarette from his packet tucked into his pocket.

Smoke between chapped lips, his lighter waited expectantly within his hold as a loud bark tore his attention briefly from his cigarette; casting his green eyes toward the entrance of the dead end alley.

A quirk of his brow cast an almost amused expression upon his face as a small yappy dog barely reaching his ankle height came running into the alley.
It's tail wagging wildly, face lit up with joy, it barked repeatedly; running up to the boss and jumping it's front paws against his pant leg. The small brown dog seemed excited to have found a supposed new friend.

It's excitement didn't last forever, instantly turning with a loud bark as a young brunet came racing after it; a vivid clash of soft lilac colours catching the boss off guard. White shirt, white pants, white shoes, and a soft coat of lilac so light it swayed like fabric in the wind as the pretty male scooped their dog up into their arms.
He was an angel flying too close to the devil's grasp.