Shadow Ballet- Betrayal

5

“Am I in heaven?”
“If it was heaven what am I doing here?”
“Where is this place?”
“I don't know! I call it hell. We are in a cauldron, waiting patiently to boil. Additional questions?”
“None.”
 
 
 
 
Walking on the main street between the sounds of the horns and the lights of the display cases, Lin thought of her prey. Yeah, Lin was a hunter or a whore. Both are the same thing. Both of them give something to get more. She was a prostitute in the suburbs, who stood her ground in the male-dominated world, savoring it like a hard slap.
Lin murmured a song while she was walking recklessly of the rest of the world. She ceased to sing and took a drag on her red-lipstick-stained cigarette. Shit. Lin stopped and looked down at her shoulder. Her blonde hair had tangled up in the chain of her purse.
Suddenly, she rounded toward a dark alley at the right side of the street and walked past by a green car. She approached the wall.  There were too many bloody posters on it. Then she looked down at the asphalt. Blood.
Her gaze shifted back to the alley. It would not have been so creepy if it did not sound like someone was suffering. Some moans, some whispers.
Lin followed the voices with curious and slow steps. Abruptly, she leapt backward, gasping, because of a black cat that got in her way. She kept quietly going into the dark, holding a hand on her chest. The more Lin got closer, the louder the voices became.
Two young muggers were beside Jerry, who lied on the ground. The tallest one of them, crouched. He took Jerry's watch and wallet, but then he widened his eyes when he saw the gun in Jerry's belt. “Benito, look at this, my friend! This guy must be an important shit. We're in trouble! I think we have to finish him. He's even a gun, man!”
Benito was much shorter than the first mugger was and most likely younger. He deadpanned. “What?”
“Come on, finish him! He is almost dead. Don't you see? But in any case, we need to be sure. You dunno these men. They find you!” the first one said while he was trying to get Jerry's coat. That was a coat that they could never buy. Both had rag clothes, and it was undeniable that they were Italian because of the accent.
In response to what he heard, Benito frowned and looked at his tall friend with an angry face. “Me?” he asked, yelling in a whisper, “Me? Bullshit! Why I always do all the dirty things?”
“Cut the crap! Pull your knife out and do it, Benny!”
At that moment, a gun hammer sounded between the whispers. Lin appeared in the shadows, pointing a revolver gun at them. She took a last drag on her cigarette that she was holding like a man between her thumb and forefinger, and tossed it away. As she pointed the gun at them, she carefully approached and straightened Jerry, pushing her feet into his shoulder.
Jerry rolled aside, holding his stomach. His hand and his shirt were all crimson. Those half-opened brown eyes, looking at Lin, seemed to speak with her. Lin knew this glance very well. It was the glance of those whose losing simply do not fit on their plans — the ones who fight against death only to call it back.
Lin stared at the tall one, who held Jerry's wallet and watch, merely assuming that he was on the charge. “Good evening gentlemen! You, leave what you have just taken. Take your friend and get the fuck out of here!”
 The tall one eyes her from head to foot. “Who the hell are you?”
“Why don't you just do one? I'll blow your balls! Is that what you want?” She was extremely rough. Silence. “I thought so.”
They stared at each other for a while. Benito bent toward his tall friend, but his eyes were on Lin. “Fabrizio, andiamo cagna è pazza!” Fabrizio let's go. This whore is crazy!
Fabrizio threw the wallet slowly toward Jerry. When he turned his back to leave, he heard Lin's voice and stopped.
“Fabrizio, are you not forgetting something? The watch, please!”
Fabrizio hesitated, thinking how expensive the watch was.
“I said, leave it!” she yelled.
After Fabrizio threw the watch angrily, both of them ran away and got lost in the dark. Lin still could hear their shouting. “Cazzo di troia!” Fucking bitch!
Lin crouched beside Jerry. She touched his shirt and studied the fabric, moving her finger on it. It was a pretty expensive shirt. She checked the sleeves.
A handwritten letter 'J’ and luxurious black rhinestone golden shirt buttons.
She looked at his face. “Who are you, and what are you doing in a place like this?”