Midnight Woman
#6 of Short Stories
Midnight Woman
The sun is down, and the empty streets you have been walking are getting painfully cold. Penniless at the moment, you spent your last paycheck on a plane ticket out of this crappy town. With the ticket held protectively in your jacket pocket, you come across a trash can fire. It is well over a mile to the airport, so garnering a little warmth from someone's fire seems like a fine idea. Into a depressive drizzle, your forge a path. Rats and bits of garbage litter the way.
A old canine stands alone next to the barrel. White streaks of fur adorn his mussel. The years have not been hard on him though. The canine's movement's are rather fluid, in fact he seems fairly spry while tearing pages from a magazine and feeding them to the flame. Tentatively stepping closer, you get in range of the warmth. Nearer now, it is obvious he is saving some pages. The magazine, a rather arousing nude issue, has been reduced to several sheets of glossy paper. All that remain feature the same feline. The Jaguaress is quite beautiful with her nearly black fur. The heading refers to her as Midnight Woman.
Not liking the unwelcomed silence, you speak asking about the woman. The wolf looks forward, his face is friendly, a slight grin curves the corners of his mouth. His cheap but clean suit still has wrinkles from being pulled out of a storage bag. It is the costume of one who has just been released from prison, but you fail to realize this. A small white paper peeks out of his pocket. There is a bulge at his right hip, likely from a large billfold.
"I am on my way to meet her." He says plainly. Seeing that she is well out of his league, the assessment raises some skepticism.
"We were going to be married. Before I was thrown in jail, that is. Wrongly I might add. But I remained steadfast, sending her letters every day, while she waited for me to come back and sweep her off her feet again. Now I am on my way to see her." He spreads the book for you to see, "isn't she beautiful?"
"If you were in jail, what makes you think she will take you back?" You raise a questioning eyebrow.
"Oh no. A love like ours couldn't be ruined by such trivial details", he waves a dismissive paw. "I knew she was the one for me since the first day I saw her. My dreamsâ€"my every waking thought were consumed with her, my midnight woman." He gives you a disarming smile.
You brush the grime off an old crate, and then take a seat next to the lifegiving flames. In the light, his eyes sparkle, as he tells you the story of his lost love.
"The most beautiful creature to ever grace our earth. I moved across the country to meet her. At first it was hard, the film company had bodyguards everywhere, but I was persistent. Once I found where she lived, I rented an apartment across the street. The prices were high, but that was of no consequence. Every night, I would go to my window, just to watch her. For days this went on, sharing every moment together, we would eat together, shower, sleep in tandem. My only interference was a mere hundred foot distance. Twenty-seven times I went to her room and knocked at the door, but when I heard an answer, I always fled. Ashamed by my bashfulness, I spent yet more time trying to build up the courage necessary."
He looks at the ground now, suddenly downcast. His cheerful mood gone as if it had never existed. Curious, you ask him to continue the story.
"She... My beautiful midnight woman, was approached by a man one night. At least I thought he was a man. How wrong I was. He came to her apartment for dinner, and I immediately knew what his intentions were. The next night, I watched as she stood on the balcony. White silk adorned her body, wafting with each gentle breeze. Under dim starlight, the blackness of her fur seemed to fill the void in my heart. Oblivious to my gaze, she let the silken ivory robes fall free. Mesmerized I watched her movements. True to her feline heritage, she had a grace I could never dream of achieving. I stood fascinated as she leaned over the rail, then he came." The wolf's eyes narrow.
"The Snow leopard, tainted her pure darkness with his ashen white fur. His hands roamed down her shoulders, to wrap under her ribcage. I could see she hated him, but held her emotions in check out of fear. His powerful body loomed over her. Obviously terrified, she allowed his caresses. The steely eyed beast, did as he wanted, never so much as asking permission. Cries that at once seem like pleasure, were undoubtedly those of deepest pain. It hurt like a knife to my very soul. He pressed her to the railing, and then the unspeakable happened. My beautiful midnight woman held up a glorious fight. Never once did she let him see her disgust for him. As the feline raped her, she smiled. The fear of his retribution must have kept her from endangering herself by attempting to escape. It was then that I got the first glimpse of his eyes; they glowed red like the deepest corner of hell. Paws balled into fists, I watched this atrocity, but what could I do? He would tear me in half. Get a knife, I told myself, but what good would it be. The leopard, his hands were made of knives. Despairing over my own weakness, I stared at the chewed back nails on my finger tips. Why should I be made of such weak matter. Not wanting to allow this atrocity but powerless to stop it, I punished myself. Though I wanted to badly, I did not tear my eyes away from the scene. Sickened, I watched it to the bitter end.
When he had left, I went to my kitchen. From a drawer, I chose the largest butcher knife I could find. Standing there crying out all the pain she couldn't allow herself to show, I drove the blade into my flesh. The cut was one I swore I would return to the leopard, even if he killed me in the process."
It is then you see the trail of scars running across the skin on his left arm. Flinching, he pulls the sleeve back down.
"I... I was weak. He came again the next night. That ashen beast. This time it was in her bedroom; the private place meant only for her and I. He forced her in there and the things I saw were too horrible to say. Each night, he would come back. I swear he was less a man than a demon. And each night I would make another mark upon myself. It was a penance I had to pay. By the tenth cut, the day came where he would no longer leave. Each night, she was forced to endure his stench. To sleep next to her captor, a prisoner in her very home. I passed him on the street the day after, a cold steel blade tucked under my belt. Up close, he looked less like a living creature. Rippling muscles bound his form, and smoke seemed to waft from those slitted nostrils. No this was not a living being, merely a machine of death, a demonic creature meant only for torment. To beat it would take intelligence rather than brute force.
There was but one way to save my love from his grasp; wait until night when he was most vulnerable. In his sleep, those crushing tendons would do him no good.", The wolf's normally kind grin seems wicked for a moment.
"I conjured these plans in my mind, never thinking I could go through with them. Perhaps I was naive then. In the mid-morning hours, I crossed the street, knees shaking. My body seemed about to collapse. Can I do this, I asked myself. What would happen to her if I failed? I mustn't there would only be a small chance for this. Every movement must count. After fruitless minutes of effort, I managed to climb the fire escape. Ten minutes later, I was on her floor. My love's balcony was a mere two rooms away. Being afraid of heights, this was an incredible challenge in and of itself. While cautiously peering over the edge, a strong case of vertigo arose. Reckless as only love can make you, I rushed forward eyes closed, and leapt to the next railing. It is incredibly hard to land on your feet when you can't see. I received a variety of cuts in return for my haste. A few more death defying leaps, and I was to her balcony. Unlocked, the door drifted with a summer breeze.
Silently, I crossed the living-room, knife at the ready. This act of bravery would have surely made her notice me. In her room, they lay sleeping. Oblivious to the new occupant, her body was so very beautiful lying there before me. Over her shoulder, the snow leopard's wicked paw was slung. Smiling down at her gently, I caressed her cheek, while lifting the butcher knife. It's polished surface gleamed even in the dim light. Now standing over my enemy, I looked for a place to strike. Not having any knowledge of his anatomy, I figured the middle would be a good place to start. Mouth wide and teeth bared in blood-lust, I hilted the weapon in his back. Nonplussed by his roar of agony I pulled the knife free and sank it in over and over. One cut for every one he had put on my soul. She jumped from the bed, obviously happy to be away from the leopard's touch. Standing over his prone body, a grin decorated my maw. I let the knife fall to the floor lazily, while running my hands through blood spattered fur in an attempt to straighten it out.
Now what happened next, I cannot explain. Perhaps it was the stress of her days in bondage, or maybe the surprise of her newfound freedom, but she began to scream. The sound was so sharp I had to cover my delicate canine ears. It was as if she feared me, as ludicrous as that may seem. When she was out of breath, I reach out to hold her but she shrank away. She certainly would have come to her senses soon but I never had a chance to see it due to my neglectful nature. The evil one, has somehow risen from his grave of bloodied sheets, and grabbed me around the neck, with powerful jaws. I heard the bones in my spine crumbling as lack of air made my sight fade. Even as I fell reaching out to her, begging my lady to flee while she had a chance, the darkness deepened. That is the last I remember seeing her in person, but after all the long years, we can be together. Forever."
Suddenly the fire doesn't seem quite so warm. Never taking your eyes off the grinning wolf, you back toward the street. Seeing your change in attitude, he becomes confused. Discarded cans rattle across the ground.
"Leaving so soon? Don't you think she's beautiful?"
You stop like a stalled car. From out of his back pocket he produces a huge knife. It is very rough, possibly made out of a sharpened lawnmower blade. Rough or not, at thirteen inches it is well on the way to being a sword. You hurriedly mumble something about not wanting to miss your plane.
"Be careful ya hear", he studies the knife intently, "That demon leopard yet lives, but given time that will be rectified." A smile steeped in madness overtakes his face. It is reflected in the gleam of his blade.
Never taking your eyes off him, you step into the road, glad that you can feel the cold of these streets, look upon the crumbling brick, and breathe living air. You don't care to question whether his story might be true, or if he is simply stark raving mad. Soon your are running as fast as your panicked legs will carry you, thankful to be alive.