casual. Couples and men looking for other men laughed and joked, waiting for the night's show to begin. A small group of young men looked around, their nervous eyes and bashful stares showed them to be virgins to such places.
The stage flickered to life as a dancer came out dressed in cowboy gear, much to the delight of the crowd. Lights shone down on him in time to the music as he danced and flaunted for the audience.
Death walked through the crowd, pausing at a table of men near the stage. He touched three out of the four, their souls calling to him. He found another, a lonely man sitting by himself, and touched him as well, reaching in and unlocking the tether that bound his soul to the shell it inhabited.
He couldn't recall visiting such a place before, but the beauty of such surroundings was refreshing. A dark memory flickered in the back of his mind. Simon. The name stirred an old memory and a strange mix of emotions. Joy and pain touched at his soul, but he shoved them away before they took root.
His attention was drawn to several others throughout the room as the call of souls grew more persistent and painful. They touched on every nerve—drawing him, calling to him, demanding to be taken away from this world. Six in all, before the buzzing pain stopped and let him rest.
The lingering ache began to subside, and he took a seat in a dark corner of the club. No one looked in his direction or came to take his order. A small group of men drifted his way as if to sit, but they moved on. Their eyes slid away and they moved past at a brisk pace until they were well on the other side of the club. Few people ever saw him. Fewer spoke to him, until the very end.
His eyes wandered to the stage. The dancer showing his unique flexibility only held his attention for a moment before his eyes were drawn upward to the spotlights overhead. The metal rigging over the stage bowed from the weight. A glimmer of worry rippled through him. He might not be here for Robert, but his time was due soon. The idea that he might suffer until his time came disturbed Death. He wasn't sure why.
He remembered someone telling him that pain cleansed the soul and made the release more bearable. He couldn't remember who. He couldn't remember many things. After so long, memories had faded away.
Death watched the cowboy leave the stage, and a head popped out from behind curtains. Robert's eyes glittered with pleasure as their gaze locked. His smile grew infectious, and Death felt his lips twitch in response. A moment later, Robert's head disappeared back behind the thick velvet curtain. A hot glow swept through Death and he leaned forward in his seat. He found his attention focused to the stage in anxious anticipation.
A man stepped out a few minutes later, announcing the next dancer. “Give a warm welcome to Hot Rod McGee. And don't forget to show him how much you like him."
Death turned his eyes to the stage as the music started. The curtain parted and Robert came out in a ‘20s mobster outfit, complete with hat, pinstripe suit, and a flower in his lapel. His body twisted and turned in time to the music, the movements so alluring they sent a surge of want through Death, a sensation he hadn't felt in a long time. Robert's eyes locked with his, and a smile rippled across Robert's lips as he pulled the flower from his lapel. A second later the flower flew through the air.
Surprised, Death caught the flower and brought the white rose to his nose, inhaling the sweet aroma. He stared at the flower a moment, stunned to find a tingle of warmth pulsing through him. It was strange to feel such emotion... nice.
Shirt and tie came off next. Robert's bronze skin glistened under bright lights and his hard abs were such a tempting sight. Death's fingers twitched, imagining his hands lingering over the fine contours of his body.
A loud creak overhead interrupted the music. Death's attention jerked back to the bowed lighting above. Robert glanced up too. The
The stage flickered to life as a dancer came out dressed in cowboy gear, much to the delight of the crowd. Lights shone down on him in time to the music as he danced and flaunted for the audience.
Death walked through the crowd, pausing at a table of men near the stage. He touched three out of the four, their souls calling to him. He found another, a lonely man sitting by himself, and touched him as well, reaching in and unlocking the tether that bound his soul to the shell it inhabited.
He couldn't recall visiting such a place before, but the beauty of such surroundings was refreshing. A dark memory flickered in the back of his mind. Simon. The name stirred an old memory and a strange mix of emotions. Joy and pain touched at his soul, but he shoved them away before they took root.
His attention was drawn to several others throughout the room as the call of souls grew more persistent and painful. They touched on every nerve—drawing him, calling to him, demanding to be taken away from this world. Six in all, before the buzzing pain stopped and let him rest.
The lingering ache began to subside, and he took a seat in a dark corner of the club. No one looked in his direction or came to take his order. A small group of men drifted his way as if to sit, but they moved on. Their eyes slid away and they moved past at a brisk pace until they were well on the other side of the club. Few people ever saw him. Fewer spoke to him, until the very end.
His eyes wandered to the stage. The dancer showing his unique flexibility only held his attention for a moment before his eyes were drawn upward to the spotlights overhead. The metal rigging over the stage bowed from the weight. A glimmer of worry rippled through him. He might not be here for Robert, but his time was due soon. The idea that he might suffer until his time came disturbed Death. He wasn't sure why.
He remembered someone telling him that pain cleansed the soul and made the release more bearable. He couldn't remember who. He couldn't remember many things. After so long, memories had faded away.
Death watched the cowboy leave the stage, and a head popped out from behind curtains. Robert's eyes glittered with pleasure as their gaze locked. His smile grew infectious, and Death felt his lips twitch in response. A moment later, Robert's head disappeared back behind the thick velvet curtain. A hot glow swept through Death and he leaned forward in his seat. He found his attention focused to the stage in anxious anticipation.
A man stepped out a few minutes later, announcing the next dancer. “Give a warm welcome to Hot Rod McGee. And don't forget to show him how much you like him."
Death turned his eyes to the stage as the music started. The curtain parted and Robert came out in a ‘20s mobster outfit, complete with hat, pinstripe suit, and a flower in his lapel. His body twisted and turned in time to the music, the movements so alluring they sent a surge of want through Death, a sensation he hadn't felt in a long time. Robert's eyes locked with his, and a smile rippled across Robert's lips as he pulled the flower from his lapel. A second later the flower flew through the air.
Surprised, Death caught the flower and brought the white rose to his nose, inhaling the sweet aroma. He stared at the flower a moment, stunned to find a tingle of warmth pulsing through him. It was strange to feel such emotion... nice.
Shirt and tie came off next. Robert's bronze skin glistened under bright lights and his hard abs were such a tempting sight. Death's fingers twitched, imagining his hands lingering over the fine contours of his body.
A loud creak overhead interrupted the music. Death's attention jerked back to the bowed lighting above. Robert glanced up too. The
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