Dark Secrets

Dinner Guests

The home of Mercury Weaver was, to put it simply, entirely disinfected. The life she led was a messy one, and it was impractical, aside from being extremely stupid, to have her apartment the same way. She didn't care how she was perceived to her neighbors but if the stench of the things she did leaked out to them she was sure to be investigated and evicted. So, she remained bleach clean.

When one entered her apartment, it was often thought that she was a new resident. The furniture was scarce, the walls bare, electronics almost non-existant, and there was hardly anything in the refrigerator. Mercury Weaver kept only necessary items. She harbored no sentimental attachment to knickknacks or photos, and did nothing for purely aesthetic reasons. The one and only bedroom housed a bare mattress that rested on the floor and a single bedside drawer that held brushes and the like. There were no blankets or sheets to be seen. The closet was barely used, Mercury's wardrobe small but efficient. The bathroom was the one room that had any kind of decoration- a green bathmat to soak up water when Mercury finished showering, and a shower curtain with pretty flowers printed onto it to keep the floors from getting splashed.

As Mercury Weaver returned home she picked fur from her teeth and went first to the bathroom to wash herself of blood and semen. She was still hungry and planned to go out into the city, which she could only do undisturbed if she were presentable. She cleaned herself carefully and dressed in fresh clothes, then left once more to see what the night had in store for her. Again she walked, looking out of place without meaning to, her outfit unfitting for the weather. There were no wild dogs in her path nor domesticated ones. There was nothing but desert until she reached the city, and buildings popped up around her as if humanity was an infestation. She kept her gait confident and her eyes forward, already knowing where she was going. There was a street deep in the city that was, according to most people, a dump. Or, technically, an off color red light district. Seedy things tended to happen on that street, but not all was sex, thus Mercury considered it off color, which encompassed all the naughty things people wanted to do in the shadows.

She walked straight into this off color place and to a bar she frequented when she was hungry. Behind the bar lay piles of trash that attracted rats, felines, and hounds, the area at its peak the day before garbage pick up, which was this day. No one missed stray kitties or puppies, much less rats. Mercury Weaver found this information useful and stuck to it when she was looking to eat.

Unfortunately the bar had its front window smashed in and the door was gone, large rectangles of wood now a makeshift entrance underneath glowing police tape. There had been an incident that caused a hitch in Mercury's precise plans. She stared at the unusable portal to her feast with no expression. There was no anger, no irritation. Nothing. In her head she ran through her options to get to the unsuspecting animals in the back and chose the one with the least amount of consequences for herself. Smoothly, she turned and stepped over to the business next door which, surely, she guessed, had an exit that led to the garbage. It was a place she had never entered before, a grungy cocktail lounge that seemed out of place, even here. She stepped inside and did a quick assessment. Torn stools and couches, sticky bar top, scratched tables, a small stage to fit a band and a single singer, and lighting around the whole building that was dull as to try and hide the obvious flaws.

Mercury ordered a bottled water for later then sat near the edge of the establishment, close to the back exit, and waited. Early she found that walking through a building without taking part in what was happening inside attracted unwanted attention. So, she blended into the shadows and was patient. She would listen to a single song then be on her way. No one would be the wiser.

The lounge singer was already on stage, a dingy light illuminating her ruby lipstick and jet black hair in such a way that was vaguely frightening. Her eyes were closed as the music started around her, and they remained that way even when her lips moved and a song spilled from her lips. Mercury slid her gaze to the others present- the tables of fat cigar smokers, lonely singles, sad customers, binge drinkers- and watched them perk up oddly. The song was slow, an almost hum of words, and Mercury couldn't understand its appeal. She didn't know why cigars fell or beers remained untouched or why everyone looked that much happier with life. That is, until, she returned her focus to the stage. The lounge singer was staring directly at her. Mercury saw unnaturally blue eyes studying her intently with- what? Mercury didn't know. People looked at her similarly often so she was used to it and never asked questions. But something was off this time, something was different here...