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Black Dalia


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Here I go again with another late night written short story while I was at work. Hope you guys enjoy it!


He was just so coolly there, with a cigar in tote and hair slicked back with some waxy pomade. He was a real man’s man, the fire flickering off his eyes and smoke escaping his pursed lips. It was slightly expected, but at the same time, taken aback by his calm demeanor. He just leaned back in the chair, just so much, to give himself that carefree, lounging vibe. It was a definitely a case of an expected surprise.


“So, what exactly did you want me to do here?” He ashed the fat cigar in the ashtray sitting precariously on the edge of the end table, the embers glowing in the dim room. He took another puff and started blowing swirling rings into the smoky atmosphere.


I swallowed hard and shifted uncomfortably. I’d read plenty of stories where someone wanted to sell their soul or life just for one thing. Either for riches or love or power or courage. Something. Something they thought would make them happy. I buried my head in my hands and swayed back and forth for a bit.


“Hey, don’t start clamming up now. You called me here. I heard the desperate call of a woman who would do anything for love, and I thought that maybe you needed me.” He was just so cool.


My head jerked up immediately from my hands and I glared at him. “No. It’s not about love. It’s far beyond love. It’s the exact opposite.” I crossed my arms and stared into the fireplace, dancing embers spiraling up the chimney and coating the walls with ash and soot.


He stood up and walked over to the mantle, one hand leaning against and the other holding that cigar, ever so close for the smokes to collide and mix with each other. Entwine and writhe in some sadistic sexual nature. He was ever one to enjoy the manipulation of fire and smoke. “Not love you say? Well then, whatever am I doing here then?”


“He broke my heart. He left me. For that dumb bitch.” A tear rolled down my cheek and landed on my crossed legs. Rolling down my calf and soaking into the carpet, a dark spot expanding out in every direction.


“So you want him back then?” His gaze still on the fire, still dancing on his black pupils and dark brown iris. So beautiful, yet so dangerous.


“I don’t want him back. I want him to regret what he did to me. I want him to suffer.”


“Suffer, eh?” A chuckle escaped from his mouth and he took a puff from the cigar. “I do enjoy suffering and pain.”


I swallowed hard and managed to pull myself up to my feet, wobbling over to the fire place and planting an arm on the mantle. His eyes never left the fire, and I guess that’s what made him so sexy. “I know you do. And I guess that’s why I thought-”


He stretched out his arm with the cigar, one finger up six inches from my face and shushed me. “I know why you called me. I know why anyone calls me.” He finally turned to me, his eyes piercing and dark, staring so deep into me. “I know exactly what you want. I’ve always known.”


I couldn’t quite get the words out of my mouth, I was too choked up. I felt hollow and full of smoke. Barely able to stand and keep my balance. “I’d do anything…”

His arms embraced me, the smoke enveloping the both of us. He ran his fingers through my hair and held me closer than anyone ever has. “I know you will.” His fingers exploring each strand. He understood me better than anyone ever has, in this one moment. “It’s why I’ll do it.”


I returned his embrace and cried into his shoulder. He was so warm and it was so inviting. His black cotton shirt consuming my face and comforting me. “I’ll…I’ll do anything. Whatever it takes to teach that bastard a lesson.”


He shushed me again and moved my head from his shoulder so I could look in his eyes. Those brown orbs so dark and swirling, the flames erupting from deep within and absorbing all of my attention. “It won’t be cheap.”


I shook my head, trying to choke back my tears. My eyes watering up and he shushed me again. “I just…I…”


He kissed me on the cheek, his lips were warm and inviting and soothed me. “Leave it to me, Dalia. Leave it to me.” And, for a second, I really felt like it would be okay.


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