Black Velvet

Prologue

The room was silent. The lonesome noise came from a leaking pipe in the corner of the room. At least, that's what she told herself. It was better than the alternative. They had blindfolded him, and tied his hands. They had left him alone for hours on end, without a clue as to what would happen. Like a squealing pig waiting to meet its demise.

The door opened, and slammed shut. He could hear it, even though he was blindfolded. The clicking of the footfalls echo through the room, as whoever was in there with him neared. He sat up straight. The footfalls ended, right in front of him. The room was encased in a deafening silence. It was long enough for him to question if he had imagined the visitor.

Light flooded into his eyes as the blindfold was ripped off him. The room he was in was nothing more than a dimly lit room, but he hadn't seen light for days. Crouched in front of him was a woman. Her hair was long, and the color of the night sky. And her face looked like it belonged to a model. But the piercing gaze of her dark eyes was enough to paralyze anyone who would look at it.

"Wh- what do you want?" the man asked. His voice was hoarse, and the woman's glare made her stutter. He hoped she hadn't noticed.

The woman laughed. "You really don't think I want anything with you, do you?" she said. Her voice was menacing, in the way a tiger was. It made him want to run. "You're more naive than I thought." She pulled up her sleeve, to reveal something shiny on her arm. It took a moment for him to realize it was a knife, and another moment to realize what she was going to do with it.

"P-p please, don't kill me! I'm sorry for what I did, I won't do it again, I promise!" the man said. All it took to reduce him to a stumbling mess was a short woman, who looked like she should be a model. He was almost embarrassed of himself.

The woman lifted his chin, so that he was forced to look into her eyes. "Is that really what you want your last words to be?" the woman said. She took her knife into her hands. "Such a shame."

"Why- why are you doing this?" he asked.

"Because," the woman said, "dead men don't tell tales."