Meeting the Faceless Men

Chapter 1: The Friend

I swear to the asshole sitting in the fluffy rainclouds that if this woman make one more effing comment on my outfit, I'm turning around and walking away as if I had freshly ripped her nonexistent Soul from her overly developed body, Priscilla thought with her hands clenched in the pockets of her leather jacket as she glared at the person in front of her. Priscilla was wearing a black, hooded sweater dress that reached shy of mid-thigh and a V in the neck that showed more than enough cleavage. Black leather saddle boots with black thigh high socks, to match her black leather jacket, stepped in every puddle on the sidewalk. Priscilla's hair was the only problem in her eyes, literally. It was in her eyes, her mouth and even up tickling the inside of her nose. Priscilla furiously secured another escaping lock behind her ear and pulled her hood up to discourage anymore escapees.

Looking up towards her friend/roommate Lucy, Priscilla felt a bite more pride in the gazes she was reserving versus the stoned stares Lucy got. Lucy's graciously curved body was almost fully displayed to the onlookers. Her breasts were practically spilling out of their confining cabaret corset and working a ways down to the strip of black cloth that was held together at the sides by leather cords. The only aspect of Lucy's attire Priscilla approved of was Lucy's shoes, black stilettos that made Lucy's long leg seem as if they went on forever.

"Where the hell are we going?" Priscilla hollered up to Lucy over the sound of the night life.

"Exactly that," Lucy replied loud enough to reach Priscilla's ear.

"Are you fucking serious, The Seventh Circle?" Priscilla stopped in her tracks and looked at her friend as if Lucy were insane. "I thought you wanted to get laid not raped, only lowly demons go to The Seventh Circle."

"And?"

"And you have standards."

"Do you know what today is?"

"Sunday... Fallen only night."

"Any more commentary for the bright one in black?"

"Shut up and walk."

I just added air to a head the size of Montana, Priscilla thought as they continued down the cracked walkway. Every few seconds a car would pass by and slosh the remaining water on the road towards them, making Lucy scurry to the far side of the concert. Priscilla just trudged on not caring about a little water washing over the tops of her muddy boots.

When they came to an intersection, the cell in the pocket of Priscilla's jacket buzzed. You got mail, Priscilla caroled in her mind. Priscilla tapped at the screen to open her email and scrolled down the to-die list. Priscilla hid the happiness on her face and stuffed the phone into her pocket.

"Where is it?" Lucy's voice knocked Priscilla free of her daydreams.

"Where's what?" Priscilla evaded the question, acting like she had no idea what Lucy was talking about.

"The massacre you're so happy about, where is it?"

"By the falls in the woods around midnight, but I have time to kill. I promise you will get front row seating to the whole bloodbath."