Seduction of the Soul, part 2

A/N: The events in this story take place during DPU 25, 26, and so on, but why would I need to tell you this? If you're reading part 2, then you clearly read part 1 in the previous story? I mean who reads part 2 without reading part 1?

05:52 PM

Skulk and Lurk.

Her conversation with her mother was both, one of the most awkward and yet, most helpful conversations she's had with her. It didn't really solve her problems, but it gave her some clarity. Maybe she was rushing things with Danny by forcing herself to sleep with him, thinking he was the one she wanted future with. How could she say that when she doesn't even know what she wants to do with her life!?

Screw him! She doesn't need Danny! She can do way better than him any day! Sam knew very damn well she could get any guy she wanted if she tried—but, oh, who's she fooling with this? Surely she could get any guy she wanted, but she just wanted him. Danny was more unique than the other guys; he is a half-ghost hero! How could she ever do better than that?

"…I'm here. But where are you? Sure, I see your body, anybody home in that rotting bag of flesh?" Andrea, the fat Goth girl of tonight's reading, sounded on the microphone before leaving stage.

What a bummer!

Not even the overbrooding amateur goth poetry of tonight could bring her up. What was wrong with her?

"You know, it always breaks my heart to see a poor rich girl so sad," a young lad sitting next to her said.

Curious, she turns around to see who he was. Immediately she realized she didn't know this bloke; he didn't seem to belong to this place either. Other than the long dark shoulder-length hair, which he had pulled back and slick ending in a ponytail, the dark trimming around his eyes and the Mick Jagger outfit, there was nothing goth on him; he was easily ten years older than her, but he had this vibrant, youthful appearance, with broad chest, and she had to admit he was shockingly good-looking! His face was pale under the artificial twilight of the bookstore, he had a goatee like that of a villain but she could see that his features were cleanly defined and nearly perfect with dreamy cheekbones. Sam has never seen someone that handsome before, at least not in this brooding hole; he was definitely new around here, so how could he know she is rich?

"How do you know that!? How do you know I'm rich? Do I give off a rich stench now?"

"Yeah. I take it is Chanel 666."

Sam sniffs her tank-top realizing she had her mother's perfume all over her.

"Damn!"

"You know, I never really understood why a privileged girl from a rich family would become a goth only to hang in a place like this? Really what could possibly be so bad about your life? Is it your loving parents? I bet is your loving parents. Nothing brings down the moral more than the love and concern of your parents."

"Hey, you're not who to talk!" she shouted.

"I stroke a nerve. So they are loving."

"Yeah, so loving they suffocate me! My parents don't even bother to understand I'm a unique individual and… oh, who am I kidding, am not even in the mood for this," said bending over her table again. "And for the record I'm not upset about them."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"…no…" she sighs.

"Let me guess, if it's not your parents, then it must be your boyfriend or… girlfriend?"

Sam wipes her head looking at him shocked.

"I take it by the look in your face that is a boyfriend."

"What do you even care about?"

"Well, for starters, your attitude is bring down the mood in this place," he began with a grin on his face.

"Ok, I think I found myself a comedian here," she said with a little smile. "Sorry to break it up to you, but the comedy club with open mic is on front."

"And here I thought everyone was mopping because I haven't been at stage yet."

She couldn't explain it, but there was something vaguely familiar about this stranger, and he gave her this feeling of both, comfort and mistrust.

"The name is Sam," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear and then offering her hand to shake.

"Damian," he said taking her hand and gently kissing it.

"Woa, an old school gentlemen," she giggles nervously, getting her hand back. "I, uh… you… didn't strike me as that type."

"You can say that. So, I'm guessing you're not old enough to go to a bar and talk your problems to the bartender."

"You like to take a lot of guesses."

"Have I missed so far?"

"Hey, I can drink! Only not with my real I.D."

"It's okay. I wouldn't pay attention to you if I got drunk anyway."

"What makes you think I would take a drink from a stranger."

"Good call. You don't wanna end up inside a bathtub in a motel with your liver carved out."

"Right, because that's the biggest danger."

"Oh, do I look like a serial killer to you?"

"Serial killers don't look like serial killers."

"I know The Zodiac and Dahmer didn't."

"The Zodiac was never caught."

"Because he didn't look as a serial killer, otherwise people woulda noticed at the market."

"You know you're not helping your case, don't you?"

"Ah, but I got you talking," he went on with a smirk.

"Don't think so high of yourself, is either a stranger on a bookstore of a stranger or a stranger on the Internet. At least this is one faster."

"And with many potential witnesses."

"Exactly."

"If only this place had an actual lighting; it would make it difficult for me to slice your throat if I wanted."

"Wow. What happened to the old school gentlemen?"

"He went hiking."

"You really are not good at this."

"Sorry, I never knew how to talk to a pretty girl."

"Thanks… Uh, I gotta make a call to my boyfriend, the ghost boy. You probably heard of him on the news."

"You mean the half-ghost superhero, yeah. I know a lot about him actually."

Meanwhile at the Millennium Mall, or simply DPU issue 25.

"I don't know. I kinda like the idea of seeing your nipples without having to take off your shirt," Valerie jokes with Danny.

"Still not happening," he laughed before his phone began ringing.

"Baby got back! Little in the middle but you got much back."

"Is Sir Mixalot your ringtone?"

"Uh, no," he denies.

"Then why is it coming from your butt?"

"Little in the middle but you got much back."

"Because, uh… Ok, I can make this work, uh…"

"Little in the middle but you much back."

"Baby, you better get that before you get much back," she suggest in a jocular tone.

"Ok. Uh, is Sam," he says with a not-so-happy look on his face.

"Aren't you gonna answer?" Val asks, seeing how the phone kept ringing.

After mulling for a few seconds, he decides to deny the call.

"Come on, Danny. Pick up!" Sam says in whisper.

"No. She said we needed space. I'll give her space. Besides, I'm with you now, I like being with you."

"Wow, thanks. I guess…"

Which leads back to this…

"Great! The one time I need you to pick up, and you block my number."

"I suppose I should go away and not scare you anymore. Is that what you want?"

"What? Eh… I'm sorry, I just… I don't know," she says exasperated with both hands on her forehead.

"Well, I don't know what kind of problem you got with your boyfriend, but I'm sure is not something you get to solve with a phone call."

"No is not," she sighs.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. But as I said I just don't know how to talk to a pretty girl."

"Well how about not talking about serial killers? That's good way."

"Hey, it's called true crime. It's a hobby."

"No, collecting Japanese trading cards is hobby. This, this is sick."

"Really, you're telling me you don't find that interesting? I would have guess that plays right in your wheel house."

"Yeah, not really."

"Anyway, if there is a real crime here, is whatever your boyfriend's done to you. To make a girl as cute as you sadder than this place…"

"Yeah, he's an idiot…" mourns Sam.

"Listen Sam, you look as a very smart girl…"

"Guilty of charges."

"And honestly, I don't know much about relationships."

"But…?"

"But what?"

"I don't know much about relationships, but…?"

"No, that's it. I don't know much about relationships, I had only two girlfriends before and it was the same with both. First is all love, but then is fighting all the time. Hell, at least with my first ex, who was very much like you I must say, it was only arguing, but the second one, you know what we used to do? We had a shoot out. It was very ghetto-esque, we literally tried to kill each other and the entire city had to pay for our quarrel."

"How helpful," says with a peeved look.

"I bet your rich girl upbringing sounds better now."

"Yes, it does."

Damian looks at his watch getting out of the table.

"Well, not like this isn't fun…"

"Because I'm having the time of my life here."

"…but I got an agenda to keep and I'm out of time, so I gotta go."

"Well, don't let me keep you here."

"But hey, if you ever feel like you need a new friend," said getting a black presentation card out of his black leather jacket, "just give me call."

"Sure I will," said taking his phone number with jealousy, reading his full name. "Damian Specter?"

Sam raises her head realizing he was already gone.