Verbal Visions

Fantasy in Red

Fantasy in Red

Tired and sore he pulled off the road, his truck sighing in relief. He had been traveling for hours and was ready for some entertainment. The bar smelled like beer and disappointment, sweaty bodies crowded the counter. The clack of pool balls and the low music felt like home. He ordered a beer to wash away the grime of the last few hours, and another to energize him for the long night ahead.

The music changed, and the air around him began to sizzle. The dance floor parted and it was then that he saw her; a vision in red. She swayed and moved with the music, hypnotized by it's rhythm. Long black hair caressed her back, kissing it with every move she made. Aloof and confident, she rocked back and forth, taunting them with false promises. She enchanted them all. Every eye in the bar was on her, and she knew it. She was every man's fantasy. He would claim her. She would be his.

As he waited in the dark in the cab of his truck, he saw her leave. She was the last one out. He watched her walk to her car alone. She was a fool and would make it easy. He got out and slinked through the night. She never saw him coming. He wasn't one to sweet talk and cajole his victims. He just took what he wanted. When she heard him, she turned. Like a snake he struck, catching her as she crumpled to the ground. Quickly he carried her to his truck. Years of practice had perfected his technique. No one ever saw him.

Sated and relaxed, after an evening of entertaining his screaming hostage, he looked down at her lifeless body. Cradling the corpse of a long dead fox, she was where she belonged. Both of them were now sleeping in hell. In the light of day, he had shown the world who she truly was. Not an enchanting vixen to be revered, but the vessel of his whims. Just like all the others. He hated them all. He looked in his rear view mirror and smiled; on to the next one.