Mark Hyra leans back in his chair with a reluctant look on his face. How can I use that to my advantage? So directly I stare across the table at him, and wonder if I will make it through the night without trying to kill him. The doors behind us are locked, but that was what I expected.
"Let me finish, candy." His voice is calm, but he takes hard pulls on his cigarette. "You want to be pure and good but you aren't. It's a hard world to be different in."
At six feet three and 230 pounds, Mark Hyra is much taller and over one hundred pounds heavier than me.
"Aren't we all sinners?"
"Face the facts, candy." Mark places his forearms on the table, leaning forward. "You know we're going to be more than folktale." His sleeves ride up exposing the tattoos on his wrists. "And you are special to me. A good girl with bad habits."
A frown settles on my face. I should have known better.
"We're complicated." He tells me. "There is no good answer here."
I laugh bitterly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone outside standing up.
"That has to count for something."
"I care but I'm done trying."
As it may be, Mark is just not good at conversation. Under the sun his money did all the chitchat.
I find nothing here with him I can identify as important. I do this for each plight whenever I feel the least bit out of control.
"Don't make it more complicated than it needs to be." He's considering which approach to take: intimidator, or sexually stimulating. Neither will work, but it's still entertaining to pick up on his internal debate.
"I think we want different things," I say while walking to him and at the last moment, he moves towards the door yet his focus isn't on what I'm really doing. He locks gazes with mine and soon after he begins to unzip my dress so I put on a delighted expression. Mark looks captivated so I run a knife through his chest and do not stop until he stops breathing. Until his heart stops beating.
Behind every successful woman is herself.
"It's time for you to go, Mark."
Time passes and yet I stand there to get an eyeful on what just happened. He died with his eyes open. I sink back into myself slowly taking one step backward, keeping the knife close to my chest, then take the second step.
Mark's polo shirt was no longer white and there's a loud knock on the door.
I take his cigarette lighter from the table and set the napkins on fire, then some paperwork from another table, moving to his pants.
When I see the fire moving up on him I put the knife down and take some folders from the table so the flame could reach them too.
It keeps on warming my skin tenderly.
Before I know it the fire consumes almost everything close to Mark and a small part of him.
All at once I hear someone laugh and sense that same somebody behind me.
When I turn around there he is – my stranger, looking like the rest of life in a black suit.
"I may be heartless but you are naïve."
Mark's blood starts to drip on the floor from my dress and it is louder than I thought it would be. The stranger laughs maniacally with an erotic undertone.
"Murder has its sexual side." He glides the tips of his fingers on my collarbone slowly. "Where you go. I go."
And then darkness swallows me.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
