Mirrored Circus

To Kissmyoop3, for being more than just a friend.

Getting out of my truck, I slammed the door shut and clicked the lock on my key ring, not that anyone would try to mess with it, and flipped to the other end of the ring to jam my key into the front door of my house. The locks twisted and turned until I was able to push the door open and passed into the threshold.No one was around, I knew that. Trying to hurry, I tossed my backpack onto the wooden floor of the hallway and stepped out of my shoes, walking quickly to my bedroom. Opening and closing the door in mere seconds, I stripped out of my clothes until I stood naked in front of my floor to ceiling mirror. This part didn’t bother me anymore. Closing my eyes, I stepped forward, letting the glass turn to liquid around me.

I couldn’t breath for half a second, and then I was out.

It took less than five seconds for my eyes to adjust to the smoky darkness that I was accustomed too.

The utter silence was music to my ears. Lights shone around, drenching people in an electric rainbow of colours.

I remember my first trip the the Mirrored Circus-it had been with my friend David. He had gotten so drunk and high that he let slip of this secret nightclub run by demons. But after the first time I had come here, I couldn’t stop. This was my drug of choice.

Once you stepped through your mirror, you were engulfed in inky black that molded over your skin to the perfect fit. It was not hot nor too cold. It only took one time before I realized you needed to be naked to come through. The first time had been a terrifying experience, my shirt had bunched and wadded till it was choking me, and my pants had done nothing to protect my netherland regions.

Once you were here, all your secrets and thoughts came out. White print flowed across your body, revealing emotions, hidden thoughts, and more. The sharp contrast made it easy for someone to pry on you. Privacy was impossible here.

A hand sliding up my leg brought me back into my head. Twisting around, I could make out the features of a female with large breast and snowy white hair falling down her back.

Text pooled up on her arms, “Want to dance, baby?” Other thoughts about me also darted around her stomach and neck.

Before I could think, the words inscribed themselves across my hands and chest. Typical male comments about her figure twisted up my arms and legs before I could state my answer, which was yes.

She moved her hands from my legs to my chest and pushed me onto the dance floor, a sea of black bodies turning and moving around us, swaying to an invisible beat. She danced like she was liquid, bending and flexing around my body till I got my own rhythm and joined her.

Neon lights pulsed in a frenzy around us, turning our skin from black to pink to blue. Her milky white hair also bounced colours off.

The crowd around us seemed to back off once I started moving, giving us more dancing space. Words rippled all over the shocked crowd as they took in our suggestive moves.

Suddenly, she was back in front of me, her silver eyes looking up at me before her red lips parted into an oval. I raised an invisible brow, but hoped the expression would show. Then she dropped down low, looking up at me with a seductive smile and slowly let her fingers glide over my inner legs.

Then I realized, she was a Shadow Woman, a prostitute. Her dancing was a way of her trying to turn me on.

And it was working.

Before I knew it, the thought had snaked across me for her to read and anyone else watching. She smirked and continued to bob around me.

One word floated up to wash over her chest, “Ekimmu.” Her name.