The poison spread quickly.\u00c2\u00a0 The man, barely more than a child, staggered at the edge of the bar.\u00c2\u00a0 Anyone seeing him assumed it was alcohol.\u00c2\u00a0 They were wrong.\u00c2\u00a0 It was poison, swift acting, burning through his veins, cutting his tissues, his organs.\u00c2\u00a0 He pissed himself, first.\u00c2\u00a0 His fingers went into spasms.\u00c2\u00a0 He tried to hold himself upright, tried to grab the brass railing that surrounded the bar, tried not to puke his guts up all over the things he couldn\u2019t really see anymore.<\/p>\n
The poison brought immense pain, like burning needles being stabbed repeatedly into his arms, his balls, his eyes.\u00c2\u00a0 By the time he cried out, by the time he let loose with the roiling mess coming up his throat, people had already started backing away.\u00c2\u00a0 The band had stopped.\u00c2\u00a0 Someone, somewhere, said, \u201cGet an ambulance,\u201d or \u201cCall 911,\u201d something along those lines, but the man at the bar didn\u2019t hear anything anymore.\u00c2\u00a0 The man at the bar saw only the needle that had delivered the poison to him.\u00c2\u00a0 He saw only the pretty, perfect fingers that had held the needle.\u00c2\u00a0 He saw only the smile, those white teeth, those red lips, those dark, shadowy eyes.<\/p>\n
Then he saw nothing at all.\u00c2\u00a0 He was left with only the pain, and more pain, and a touch of agony on top of that.\u00c2\u00a0 It hurt through the bone.\u00c2\u00a0 It felt like muscles being flayed, every layer all at the same time.\u00c2\u00a0 It felt like his lungs shriveling to dry, empty potato sacks, useless for breathing, useless for much of anything.<\/p>\n
But he did not die.\u00c2\u00a0 No, the poisoned man fell into a dream.<\/p>\n
And in the dream, he saw the woman, the red dress, the deep cleavage, all those curves, and the needle on the table beside her.\u00c2\u00a0 She stood there, smiling with all those teeth, looking straight at him with those eyes, and then she spoke with that ultra-erotic, sensual, promise-making voice.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cDo you want to know a secret?\u201d<\/p>\n
Pain broke through the dream.\u00c2\u00a0 He wanted desperately to know her secret.\u00c2\u00a0 He wanted, even, to know her name.\u00c2\u00a0 He nodded, once, in a way that might look like he was trying to play it cool.\u00c2\u00a0 In fact, it hurt too much to repeat the motion.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s an antidote,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
He reached toward her, tried to step.\u00c2\u00a0 In this dream, the bar was empty, she stood beside a booth, the needle winked at him as it reflected strobe lights in various colors.\u00c2\u00a0 Stained glass letters lined the ceiling, all the same letter, all a V, which once meant something here but no longer.\u00c2\u00a0 The mirror behind the bar shined dully, smeared by something oily and translucent.\u00c2\u00a0 There was a bartender, another woman, almost as bone-shockingly attractive as the one with the needle, but with blonde hair, and a black dress.\u00c2\u00a0 She was mixing something.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou want the antidote, don\u2019t you?\u201d the needle woman asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d\u00c2\u00a0 Words hurt, too.\u00c2\u00a0 He\u2019d have to stop that.<\/p>\n
\u201cWould you do anything for the antidote?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat if the antidote changes you,\u201d she said.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cWhat if it makes you something you don\u2019t want to be?\u00c2\u00a0 Would you still take the antidote?\u201d<\/p>\n
Anger overrode pain.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cGive me the damn antidote!\u201d<\/p>\n
She smiled.\u00c2\u00a0 Damn teeth again.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cLinda, if you would.\u201d<\/p>\n
The blonde finished the drink, poured it out of the shaker and into a shot glass.\u00c2\u00a0 The needle woman took it and handed it to the poisoned man.<\/p>\n
His hand shook as he took it.<\/p>\n
His mouth almost didn\u2019t close when he swallowed the drink.\u00c2\u00a0 It tasted like liquid crap.\u00c2\u00a0 He held it down.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood,\u201d the woman said, relieving him of the shot glass.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cAnd good luck.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
The poisoned man opened his eyes.\u00c2\u00a0 The band had started again, or it had never stopped.\u00c2\u00a0 He reached for his belly, where the needle had gone in so unexpectedly.\u00c2\u00a0 It ached.\u00c2\u00a0 He hadn\u2019t vomited, hadn\u2019t even fallen, though people around him had given him some space.<\/p>\n
The woman stood there still.\u00c2\u00a0 The blonde bartender, Linda, however, had been only in the dream.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you do to me?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
She smiled.\u00c2\u00a0 She whispered, \u201cI made you something.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSomething else.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAm I dead?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAm I living?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, it\u2019ll do that,\u201d the woman said.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cYou might grab some wings or pizza on the way out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happens now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s up to you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you think there\u2019s an answer to that,\u201d she said, \u201cI picked the wrong man.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you want me to do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBe what I made you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He glared at her.\u00c2\u00a0 She leaned close, touched his ear with her lips, and said, \u201cBe something else.\u201d<\/p>\n
She kissed his neck then, somewhat dispassionately, and walked away.\u00c2\u00a0 He watched her walk.\u00c2\u00a0 He liked the way she walked.\u00c2\u00a0 He thought he should follow her, but didn\u2019t.\u00c2\u00a0 He needed to clear his head.\u00c2\u00a0 So he went outside anyhow, following her to the street, though she was gone now, gone forever, little more than a dream.\u00c2\u00a0 The ache had faded somewhat.\u00c2\u00a0 The air chilled him.\u00c2\u00a0 He took a deep breath, filled his lungs, closed his eyes and noted the distinct smells, trash, body odor, an elaborate mixture of perfumes and colognes, vanilla, cinnamon, cloves, cigarettes, stale beer, stagnant water in the gutter, flowers, exhaust, gunpowder, poison.<\/p>\n
Poison.<\/p>\n
His stomach lurched, and he opened his eyes from another dream.\u00c2\u00a0 He lay on the floor, unable to move, unable to close his eyes, seeing only the needle woman staring down at him wearing the same horrified expression everyone else wore.\u00c2\u00a0 The pain returned, albeit dully, but he had neither strength of muscle nor strength of will.<\/p>\n
Linda, the blonde bartender, stood behind the needle woman, also smiling, and when she whispered into the needle woman\u2019s ear he was the only other person to hear the words.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cYou were right,\u201d she said.\u00c2\u00a0 \u201cWe\u2019ll never find a man strong enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then the poisoned man succumbed, finally, and died.<\/p>\n
As emergency personnel arrived, sirens blaring, lights flashing, the two women walked out of the bar holding hands.\u00c2\u00a0 The two women left the bar disappointed.\u00c2\u00a0 The two women left the bar and would, ultimately, try again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The poison spread quickly.\u00c2\u00a0 The man, barely more than a child, staggered at the edge of the bar.\u00c2\u00a0 Anyone seeing him assumed it was alcohol.\u00c2\u00a0 […]<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[12,6,1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/621"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=621"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/621\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=621"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=621"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=621"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}