Splendor's Story
There are always a few wolf-whistles when I walk in the Blind Pig. From the Lupine Boys, naturally. While I don't have much of a sense of humor, I don't mind that. I am good-looking, if I do say so myself. And I am wearing my working clothes: heels, fishnets, tight skirt and top. I smile as I walk past their table, putting a little extra sway in my hips just to drive them crazy. "At ease, boys, or I'll have you neutered," I warn them jokingly.
Donnie nods at me as I settle on one of the barstools, not an easy trick in this skirt. "Rum and coke," I order. "Hold the coke."
There is a young woman at the bar, well-dressed with a small laptop. She really looks out of place. "Hello," she says. "My name is Lisa. I'm a reporter writing an article on the bar. May I ask you a few questions?"
I take the drink Donnie has served me and highball it, just to see the reporter's reaction. Alcohol doesn't effect me, but nobody at the Blind Pig knows that. They all know I'm a.... oh, I forget the fancy term. I can turn into any kind of snake, wholly or partially. They know that, but there is a lot more to me. A lot more.
I smile at the reporter. "No," I reply simply, tossing a couple of Reagans onto the bar to pay for my drink. I turn and quickly leave. I don't have time for such nonsense. I have something important to take care of.
West Street is where the SCABS hookers can be found. I know because I'm one of them. I know what you are thinking. Aren't people afraid of the disease? Maybe so, but it doesn't stop them, anymore than AIDS, VD or any of those other dangerous acronyms. Besides, Scabs can offer a fantasy no normal person can match. To a lot of men, getting to sleep with a catwoman or mermaid is worth any risk.
It's really too early to be here. Most of the business doesn't start until after dark. However, this was when Sally was picked up, so I'm hoping the guy I'm looking for will be by at this time. I'm right. He is.
I know him by the discription Sally gave me. I scale my skin so he can see I'm a Scab. He's driving a brand new shiny Ford Hotfire. I'm sure he thinks it impresses me.
I won't go into detail about the next hour or so. You might find it erotic, but to me it's just a job. I've been through it hundreds of times. Make small talk, make a deal, find a cheap hotel and have sex. It's after the sex, when he is passed out on the bed, that I really go to work.
"What?" he asks.
"You're a ten year old kid," I repeat. "Look in the mirror." I hear him move and gasp. I still don't look at him.
"You! You did this to me! You bitch!"
"That's right," I answer calmly. "I did. You see, the disease made me more than a snake woman. It also made me a succubus. I don't know how it works, but my body feeds off of sex. Oh, I can still eat, but I don't get nutrition from it." I look at the empty chip bag. "Not that these things have any nutrition in them to start with. It's really irritating to have to boink someone in order to get a meal, but there are benefits. A side effect of my feeding let's me alter the age of whoever I'm with. I can make small changes anytime, but big changes require sex." Now I do turn at look at him, a thirtysomething man trapped in a little boy body. He's furious. Good.
"You bitch! You damned whore! Change me back!"
"I wouldn't if I could," I reply. Standing up, I move with the speed of a striking rattlesnake, grabbing his arm. I concentrate and his small body becomes smaller. "You're now eight years old," I explain. "Want to try for six?" He doesn't answer, but I see him look over at his pants on the chair. "If you are thinking about that switchblade, it isn't there. Yes, I knew about it. I knew about it because that woman with the brown fur you carved up last week was my friend, Sally. I don't know why you did that and I don't care, but you're not going to do it again."
He glares at me. "She was a whore! A damned dirty whore, like you!"
Again I reduce him. "You're now six. Do you really want to go down to four?"
The angry leaves his face, replaced by fear. "No, please. I'm sorry. Please, change me back." I don't answer. Instead I let go of his arm and move for the door. "Wait! What about me? You can't leave me like this!"
"Yes, I can," I respond. "You're on your own. I'm still leaving you in a better situation than you left Sally. At least you aren't struggling to reach a phone while your lifeblood throbs away. Three final things.
"One, you better be careful getting out of this part of town. There are some real sickos out there who would love to get a hold of a little boy. Two, if you look for your car, you won't find it. I went down and left it unlocked with the keys inside. A few minutes later it was gone. And three, if you do make it back to adulthood one day, don't screw with scab streetwalkers. Sally doesn't have any powers, but others of us do. My friend Mitsu could turn you into a woman. My friend Jamila can become a gorilla. I know that sounds funny, but you wouldn't be laughing after she caves your skull in. And I can spit venom if I want to. We're dangerous and we take care of our own. Remember that, junior."
I leave the room, ignoring his pleas. I'm sure Sally must have pleaded a lot, too.