Mature Content Warning:brief smut.

Roxy

Each of his finger tips traced the curve of her paled collarbones, and a forced smile played on her lips. She slung back another drink of liquor and blinked hard. The brew made her feel warm and giggly, and it made her feel as if another night of this life was going to be alright for her. Deep down she knew that this wasn't right and that she wanted better for herself, but it's all she had known for herself. Take a man to bed, and leave with enough to eat. The man's hand gripped her thigh and she shivered; another faked smile slipped onto her lips.

"Perhaps we should leave the tavern?"

"I know an inn not too far from here. I can pay for the night, and still pay you; if that'd be okay," he said slyly. Roxy knew his type. He tried to charm his way through life, and if there were the off chance that he didn't get what he desired, he would take it by force. She could tell by the muscles in his arms and the fire in his eyes that he would hurt her if she didn't comply. She didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the coins.

The couple took off into the night and walked a path that lead a short distance into the forest, where the man claimed an inn would be. The two tripped over their own feet as they traveled in a drunken stupor. Through grass and bushes and trees, they eventually came to the front of the lodge. It was quaint but well kept; all the painting was done precisely and the flower beds were full of blooming flowers of various hues. The windows showed that candles were still lit in the lobby. The man lead the way in and Roxy came behind, close in step.

"One room for the night," the man said through slurred words. Roxy thought for a long moment but couldn't remember his name for the life of her. She didn't care though, so long as she got paid in the end. The innkeeper looked up from her place behind a counter, a book in her hands. It was obvious that she could tell what would happen during the nightly hours, but she knew that a paying customer was a paying customer; she needed the money to keep the inn up and running no doubt.

The innkeeper was a short and stocky, yet beautiful young woman. She had pitch black hair and vibrant blue eyes that seemed to bring a smile to Roxy's face. She seemed to bring life into the room, lighting up every nook and cranny with her presence. And better yet, she seemed to be gazing upon Roxy with tenderness and caring. It made her feel warm inside, which wasn't she had felt since her parents were alive and her sister still was by her side. She'd been so young when they died, and Roxy couldn't take care of the younger girl. She left her with a kind doctor and began her own troubled life.

"There's one right upstairs and to the left. That'll be twenty silver pieces," she said as calmly as she could, yet her eyes wouldn't leave Roxy. She looked worried. Roxy shrugged and smiled to her, trying to reassure her that she would be fine. But now that she thought about it, something seemed very off.

He paid the landlady and took Roxy by the wrist, pulling her up the stairs with himself. She giggled as she tripped over her own feet and the stairs themselves. They stumbled into the room and locked the door behind them. In a matter of seconds, drunk sloppy lips were traveling up and down Lalonde's neck and down to her low-cut collar, his lips kissing her half exposed bosoms. His hands quickly went for the back of her dress, undoing the lacing and letting it fall to the ground. She stood shivering in her white slip as he kicked the dress away from their feet.

"You don't waste any time, do you?"

"What do you care, whore? You're still getting paid." His words were spat with venom and it surprised Roxy. She'd known that he would be aggressive but even now, she started to grow a little worried. She didn't say anything, though, as his kisses traced her shoulders as he undid the straps of the her slip, letting that fall to the hardwood floor as well. She stood naked and scared, but she let herself moan and force pleasure.

Soon enough she was bent over the bed, legs spread for her suitor. She heard his trousers hit the floor and then she felt him slowly enter her. He was gentle enough at first, but he soon picked up pace. His hips slammed against her skin as his member traveled deeper inside, and he grunted with each movement. He snarled and growled and grew more aggressive and wild. At some point she felt a cold piece of metal pressed flat against her back. She stopped her moaning to gasp in not pleasure but fear. It took no longer than a half hour for the man to be done. He pulled away and delivered his seed onto the small of her back.

When it was all over, she stood and giggled, kissed him lightly and wiped up his mess with a nearby towel used for the indoor bathing pool. She grinned and found her slip and put it back on. She was about to grab her dress and the bag of coins he'd just set on the beside table when he came to stand right in front of the door. He'd pulled his trousers back up and was looking angry and unsatisfied.

"I paid for the night. You will sleep here, and you will receive payment in the morning," he breathed. She raised an eyebrow.

"You got what you want. I will even let you keep twenty pieces for the room payment. Just let me go, please?" She even winked at the man but he wasn't buying it. His dark eyes narrowed and he pulled something from his sleeve. It was a flash of metal - the very same she'd assumed her pressed to her back - only to realize that it was a very pristine dagger.

"Get in bed. You will sleep here and be on your way in the morning."

With tears in her eyes and trembling with each breath, Roxy knew better than to say anything. She'd actually been in this situation a few times before. Men who had to pay for intercourse were usually desperate and would do anything for unknown reasons. She knew she had to comply. The sooner she did what he wanted, the sooner morning would come, and she would be on her way; with or without cash in hand.

But little did she know, morning would never come. As she slept, she was slain. As the morning came, the sun peered through the window to reveal to the daylight a young woman named Roxy Lalonde, dead, with her throat slashed. Her eyes were closed and peaceful, but the sheets disrupted the peace. They would forever be stained crimson with the blood of a prostitute who didn't deserve to meet such a fate.