Into The Night {Kire}

One grows accustomed to silence when it is endured each and every day. It was a routine; voices, silence, clanking tools, silence. In her bedroom was silence that seemed to capture every breath including her own. Outsiders were never escorted to her room; that was a private area, her own area. The only area she could hold absolute control over, and that’s what aspect of life Demeter Merwin-Glory could not live without. Control. If control slipped away from her grasp the situation would become hopeless. She was nothing without it - it was as crucial as oxygen, ass water, as food. She would be helpless and weak without control, and those two words were not in her vocabulary.

Silence occupied the darkness. It crept along Demeter’s very being like a hairy spider, but the tingling sensation was absent because silence was not a stranger to her. It greeted her every morning and welcomed her every night. Most people imagine silence and darkness as a negative combination - like a child nobody wanted.

Sounds familiar, she thought bitterly. But silence was soothing, and darkness was just - darkness. There was nothing too threatening about it.

Wandering jades spotted a figure in the distance. Shrouded in shadows, she could barely recognize the shape as a human being - not until faint hints of light illuminated his form. Yes, it was a male. That much was certain. His expression was vague and indistinct in the darkness. She could not decipher whether he was a friend or enemy, dangerous or harmless, innocent or scorched with the flames of desire. But this did not prevent her from narrowing her attention. Business was slow tonight - very few citizens had passed Demeter on their way to their destinations, and none of them were interested in her services. In fact, she had been ignored. Eyes had avoided her. Some never noticed her there. They were too preoccupied with their own thoughts. Probably thinking about how to spend their money; the loads of money Demeter would never hold in her hands.

The figure took several steps forward. Demeter tilted her head and briefly examined it. He was not old, slimy, or disgusting, so that was a plus. But he was also staring directly at her, as if trying to capture her gaze. Or maybe the other way around. Either way, he was slowly making his way towards her, and with each step her eyes absorbed another detail. She remained in her previous position, keeping her gaze locked with his as if beckoning him toward her like a mousetrap tempting the mouse. However, once the boy was within her jaws she would not snap. Instead, the prize would be claimed, and no harm would be inflicted - hopefully.

The boy stopped quite a distance away from her, but he was still within speaking distance. Demeter, allowing no chances for her prey to escape, took advantage of his pause and walked towards him. The clicking of her boots echoed in the eerie streets, shattering the perfect silence that once stood tall and mighty. She paused in front of him, allowing less than an arm’s length of space to exist between them, and curled the corner of her lips into a faint smile. This was not a mother’s smile that spoke lullabies and warmed the heart, however - this was a suggestive smile with a message: I have something you want, and you have something I need..

”Looking for something?” Her tone was sweetened and seductive. She batted her eyelashes at him - not too hastily, though. Hasty blinks were for perky cheerleaders with no experience in capturing man. She was careful about how she physically presented herself; one simple flaw could turn a man cold for eternity. She remained ambiguous with her words, and flaunted her intentions with body language and eye contact. Presentation was the key to success, after all.

A rough voice answered her question. Perhaps. Such a vague response. What was she, some sort of detective that had to decipher the meaning behind the ambiguous reply? Certainly not. In most cases men were straightforward with their answers, even eager. They flirted with her, touched her, tried to use their own pathetic charms to seduce her as if they had any control. Control was something she took possession of, whether they were aware of it or not. She wrapped men around her little finger and sucked them dry of their wealth. Even the timid first-timers were easy game - so vulnerable and frightened. It wasn’t hard to capture their attention and lead them into the dark where they could no longer hold control of their inner desires. Poor men, rich men, arrogant men, scared men, intelligent men, stupid men; she has seduced men of every type. Was it a true talent of hers? Well, practice makes perfect, and she is not what anybody would label a “newbie”.

Perhaps the man was looking for something. Wouldn’t a simple yes or no response suffice? Men never seemed to realize that her simple questions required only simple responses. Yes or no - nod or a shake of the head. It is not something to be contemplated deeply over - a man either wanted it, or he didn’t. That’s what she has learned from experience, yet this man was proving to be quite indecisive and mysterious. That irritated her. However, her face remained absent of these misleading emotions. She would never reveal how she truly felt. Prostitution was all just one big act, after all.

If by chance that man had stumbled upon her by accident and was still deciding whether or not he desired her services, it was necessary to step in and coax him into it.

”Well,” she started, her alluring smile never fading. ”If perhaps you’re looking for a pleasant evening at a reasonable price, then you’ve come to the right place.” Tilting her head and widening her smile, she extended her hand and gently grabbed his own. It was a simple gesture that held so much more meaning, and it was up to him to interpret it. After several seconds of allowing the skin-on-skin contact - a small but clever tactic used to capture immediate attention - she released his hand and took a few steps backward. Skin contact always seemed to tempt the men further. Give them a small taste, then take it away. They will be hungry for more.

Her eyes scanned him from head to toe one last time, then she turned slightly to the side as if preparing to leave. ”Follow me, if you’d like.” She faced east and stared into the empty black street that was absent of life. Her destination laid in that direction, but it was up to the man to follow. Hopefully, for her sake, he would.

And so she began to walk.

If Demeter was talented at anything other than trapping men in her web, it was carrying an air of stubbornness wherever she walked. If a second pair of footsteps did not sound, she would not stoop to low levels and turn around to plead for the stranger’s business. She wouldn’t even glance back at him. Sure, it would be a brief setback, but district two was thriving with hungry men - mainly careers who were exhausted and stressed out after a day of vigorous training, not that she cared about any of that - who were always willing to pay for just one hour with her. Perhaps even only thirty minutes depending upon how their endurance proved to be. If the boy did not pursue her she would not be discouraged. She would not even allow it to faze her. She didn’t care about him, and she knew he didn’t care about her. They were just two strangers wandering beneath the moonlight; did it really matter whether he wanted her or not?

A second echo joined the echo of her own footsteps, and she knew at that point that the black widow had successfully made its capture. He was following her, and she knew exactly where she would take him. Blonde curls bouncing, she led him past several blocks into a faintly-lighted neighborhood. She watched the streetlights flicker and concentrated upon the swaying of her hips and the silence she was forcing upon her prey. Demeter was not fond of small talk; she didn’t create personal relationships with her clients, so why bother? She didn’t care about their lives, their issues, their passions - she was only in this business for the money. Money she needed for medical bills and meals to cook for herself and her decrepit grandparents. If he wanted to start a conversation, it was his responsibility, not her own.

She approached a secluded house at the end of the street, dimly lit with moonlight and a touch of yellow hues from the nearby street light. From within her handbag she withdrew a small key and unlocked the door that creaked open and beckoned them into an empty but promising home with carpets and a fireplace. The house was currently on the market, but the previous residents had failed to retrieve the hidden key from beneath their doormat and now Demeter used it as an advantage to create a more hospitable and comfortable environment for her clients. She didn’t truly care about their preferences of location, but a nice mattress in a warm home compared to the outdoors could convince clients to return again. Without a word, she walked into the home and into one of the bedrooms. Inside was a small mattress lying upon the floor with sheets and pillows already neatly arranged, and a window with curtains to provide illumination. She gently set her handbag down in the corner and turned to face her prey client. She batted her eyelashes and offered him a reassuring smile.

”Hope you don’t mind the space,"

The moonlight cast a ghostly glow in the spacious and eerily silent room, embracing the pair with a grayish hue that seemed to shift their skin tones from peach to pale. The seductress was only a kiss and a caress away from performing an unforgivable deed too familiar in her life to be considered a crime, though any Peacekeeper strolling by would agree to disagree, and the only subject on her mind was how much she would earn for her favors. There were mouths to feed, bills to pay, and needs to be met before she could reach the high point of temporary satisfaction - the closest she could ever be to reaching what some fortunate citizens would call “happiness”. Her choice of career may have been despicable - other than her primary job, which was labor spent in the darkest depths of district two’s foreboding coal mines - and she may have despied the very creatures she touched, but when life handed her nothing but worthless intellect and an unsuitable pretty face, what other choice did she have?

As for her clients, most of whom she wished she could strangle, they seemed to be the only beings possessing the privilege of witnessing her as the submissive, passionate, and gentle woman she would never be. Acting was a talent she had picked up long ago, and so far, it had proven itself a worthy weapon during times of desperation and gloom. Could her clients even trust that they were given the real deal? Well, the physical contact was as honest as any, but as for a face beneath the mask, no. Demeter was merely slipping into costumes and flaunting facades to portray the damsel who wanted everything a guy could offer. There was no will, no feeling, no true desire on her side of the plate; it was all just a show. A demented and degrading game meant to procure stacks of money upon her lap - and that’s all it would ever be in her eyes.

If Demeter could care about her current client’s approval of the empty room, she certainly would, but unfortunately, she didn’t, especially since the only remaining option involved spending the night exposed to mother nature and her harsh tendencies. His added comment claiming that the room was “like home” was a bit unnecessary, and most likely a slip of the lips, but it was slightly reassuring to know that the man who would be handing her cold cash was at least not complaining about the pathetically decorated room and mattress. Appearance of the location was never significant, anyways. It was how she appeared and acted that was most noted during a man’s experience, and she knew that from past analysis - a habit she wished she could drop if she wasn’t so fascinated by human behavior.

There was a slight tilt of the head and several steps taken before the seductress parted her lips once more.

”Good.” She spoke only to assure her client that she was still listening- that she wasn’t just a brainless doll with no regard for anything besides what was about to happen between these walls. She was purposely keeping her responses short and simple, however, for there was little time to waste and time she needed to analyze just how this was going to begin. She took a few steps closer to him - testing the grounds - until there was only several inches of empty space between them, and watched him carefully for a reaction. Certain clients preferred to play the dominant character, or the confident man who always made the first move, while others would rather her make all of the effort. Both she could do with ease, but first she needed to observe the boy to determine what he potentially wanted. If he hesitated, she would make the move. If he dived in, then she would follow through with the basics.

It was a simple process, really.