Death's Grin 1
Expensively dressed men and women slowly strolled through the outside gardens, the women's slim forms imitating the thin glasses of champagne they elegantly held. They were the man's accessories, whether in beaded gold, silky red or skimpy black. Within the ceiling-high French windows, the party continued, the fake laughter tinkling with the breeze that blew through the crystal chandeliers. A hundred or so people drifted on the ballroom floor, jealous women coldly greeting each other, rich men discussing the latest deal they had made off of yet another unsuspecting client. Two curling yellow marble staircases symmetrically led up to the top tier of the room, where well-dressed bodyguards hid behind the pillars, watching their clients below. At the top of the stairs there were two doors with gold handles that were guarded by two armed men and two other men with fearsome dogs that snarled at their own handlers.
It was behind these doors that the true decisions were made by a man lounging in his oversized office, each set of French doors opening to their own personal balcony that overlooked his expansive property. He was dressed for his party, but he stayed in his office, watching his guests from live video feeds, his alert eyes darting back and forth between the screens. Behind him stood a single guard, his presence fearsome enough to make any of the arrogant men in the ballroom cower. He watched his boss pull his tuxedo coat together in the front, buttoning it, giving him the signal for him to prepare the guards outside. He reached up and gently squeezed the side of his sunglasses and heard the men outside reorganize themselves. As his boss stood he respectfully took a step back to give him room to walk from behind his desk, staying silent.
"Think there will be any good dancers tonight? Last time was terrible, wasn't one whore I'd want to bed, not even on my deathbed." His boss said, not really expecting an answer.
"Sir, I was checking the dancers for security and I don't think you'll be disappointed." The bodyguard replied, almost startling his boss who looked at him, an eyebrow raised.
"Hm," he checked a nearby floor-length mirror, looking at his slick-backed hair, "you said that last time, too."
"Only want to please, sir." He replied quickly, reaching up to squeeze his glasses again. As he did, his boss walked up to him and laid a hand on his lower waist, slipping it beneath his suit jacket.
"Oh the ways you could truly please." He whispered before stepping back, the heavy door being pulled open from the front. The bodyguard was passive and indifferent on the outside, but his nerves of steel were just that much closer to snapping.
He heard the ballroom floor silence as his boss walked through the doors, the two men with dogs standing at the top of the stairs. He walked up to the top of the stairs, leaning over, his hands spaced apart on the thick marble banister. The bodyguard stood behind, watching the guests. They all looked up, waiting for him to speak.
"Welcome friends, clients…future targets." A fake laughter swept through the guests, but the bodyguard could hear the uneasiness in their voices. "Another beautiful night for a ball, I'm sure you agree. Now, in a moment's time, we will be moving in the next room where the entertainment will begin. You will be having your usual rooms, ladies, so you know where to be going. Enjoy the ball." He finished and a soft clapping of unscarred and un-worked hands filled the room.
His boss turned to the right and began his descent down the stairs, the bodyguard just behind his shadow. When he reached the floor, a space was created and he mingled into the crowds, his bodyguard directly behind him, watching for any suspicious movement. His job was made that much easier by the fact that none of these guests presented a threat.
A flashed signal in his sunglasses alerted him to the change of scenes and, stepping up behind his boss, he whispered something into his ear. His boss politely excused himself from the conversation and made his way to the edge of the ballroom, heading to the adjoining room.
The room was set up with a catwalk and plush leather chairs arranged around them, glass tables next to them. He looked them over and stood in the very front of the catwalk. Minutes later, the men from the party filed in, though not all of them. This was exclusive and only some twenty men were allowed in. They sat themselves in the chairs, eagerly awaiting the event. The bodyguard could smell the anticipation of arousal these men were giving off.
"Welcome to tonight's main event, gentlemen. Now remember, your whores are waiting for you in your rooms, so don't get too worn out here." He ended with a cruel smile, the mock of their vitality blatantly obvious. He sat down in his chair and his bodyguard behind him, his eyes focused on the catwalk.
Soon the lights dimmed and music thumped from invisible speakers and light bells were heard tinkling from behind the chairs. Men turned around in their seats to find scantily clad girls approaching them, sly and devious smiles turning the oldest of men on.
But the boss focused on the catwalk and, sure enough, a single dancer stalked her way down the catwalk. Her long brown hair was braided, silver ribbon braided in with small bells woven through. Her top was a silver halter-top, barely covering her breasts, her tanned skin that was evenly tanned all over her entire body. She wore a silver bikini bottom; a sheer silver scarf with a beaded trim was tied around her waist. Her long legs weren't the anorexic kind the other girls had, but well-muscled and slim, like the rest of her body. The boss smiled; indeed the women were better tonight.
As she reached the end of the catwalk, she seductively smiled down at the boss, who coldly grinned back up at her. A set of stairs let her walk down to where he was seated and she approached him, her hips naturally swaying to the beat of the music. The boss was so excited he leaned forward and grabbing the girl's hips, drew her to him where she bent her knees and easily straddled him in his chair.
She sat up, balancing on her knees, making the boss arch his neck back to watch her move. She lifted her hands to the top of her chest and slowly brought them down over her chest and down her stomach, sitting back as she did. The boss had moved his bruising grip from her hips to holding her ass, slipping his hands beneath the scarf. She moved from touching herself to touching him lightly, trailing her hands down his chest and snaking her fingers between his belt, tugging at it slightly. It had only taken this much to turn him on, that much was evident as she unhooked her fingers from his belt and slid them lower. Leaning over to his ear, which she licked, she whispered, "I always enjoy a ready man."
This was all it took for him to signal to his bodyguard. He was taking this whore to his bed right then and there. He carelessly shoved her off his lap and she stumbled up, hiding her look of hurt as he stood. He walked past her and the bodyguard motioned for her to follow, which she did, not after glancing at her other dancers who gave her the thumbs up. Smiling again, she walked after him, tossing her braid behind her shoulder, nearly smacking the guard in the process. They slipped into a room that lead to an elevator, which they all boarded and silently stood.
Finally it opened again and it was into another small room. A door led into another room and the girl's mouth nearly hit the floor when she saw the wealth put into it. She regained composure as the boss ordered her to move to the bed. She quickly walked over, and was unnerved by how fast he was stripping. She wasn't too sure this man wanted foreplay. She had just finished getting off her shoes when a hand appeared in front of her face and grabbed her neck, hauling her up into standing. The boss's other hand cruelly tore off the scarf, throwing it to the floor. Letting her neck go, he forced her back to the bed and crawled up to her, stopping for a moment to painfully spread her legs apart, making her wince.
Moving up, he sadistically smiled as he reached over to the bedside table, opening and drawer and taking something out. He was straddling her and he sat up, taking the object in both hands and opening it. The girl's eyes widened when she saw a blade flip open, this wasn't going to go over too well with her real boss. But this was real money, real pay, she wouldn't really have to dance anymore after this, she could live on her own. Biting her tongue as he leaned forward, she nearly closed her eyes as she felt the cold blade slip up between the center of her halter top and her skin. In that exact moment, she heard a deep growl, one that certainly wasn't from this man.
Her eyes snapped open, a hard cruelty replacing the innocence that had been seen seconds ago. Grabbing the hand with the knife, she snapped the wrist back, the crack echoing in the room as she tore the knife from his hand and taking it in her own, stabbed it through his chest and to his heart. His eyes widened in disbelief and opened his mouth to scream but she grinned at him and he shut his mouth again. There was something entirely too sinister about that grin.
As he was falling back, she held him up and two 'thud' sounds quietly echoed in the room. She slipped out from underneath him and let him fall to the bed, the two bullet wounds in his back oozing little blood. Looking up, she saw the bodyguard lower his weapon, a gun with a silencer. She walked to him and called for the lights off, reaching up to his face. She took off the glasses and standing on her toes, kissed him lightly. Pulling back, his determined silver eyes connected with her hazel ones and he swooped down, capturing her lips again. When they parted, she looked back at the bed and shuddered, comforted by the arm that slipped around her bare waist.
"Think of how many girls he has done that to." She said, resting her head on his chest. He stroked the lower part of her back with his thumb and kissed the top of her head, making her look up at him.
"He didn't do it to you and right now, that's all that matters, Jack." He said, kissing her head again.
"What a sympathetic softie you are, big bad ass Richard B. Riddick," she snorted, smiling as she pulled away from him. "We aren't done yet, we've got to get out of here."
"You think I wouldn't have a way?" He asked, unscrewing the silencer off his gun and hiding the parts of the weapon beneath his jacket.
"The mighty beast always has a way," she mocked, looking around for her shoes.
"Ain't got time for that, Jack." He said, glancing at the lifeless lump of a bastard on the bed. "Make it look like he's just sleeping."
"Aye, aye, mon capitan." She saluted him and climbed back on the bed, using the sheets and blankets to cover him in all the right places while still making it look like he had a wild night of passionate sex. Climbing off, she was sad to see him replace his sunglasses.
"Let's get out of here." He growled, propelling her to the door. Back in their acts, she forced a few tears and walked with shame, just as an innocent girl would've done. The doors to the bedroom opened into a hallway, where a few guards stood watch. They looked her over and shook their heads.
"Any instructions?" One of them asked the boss's bodyguard.
"I'm escorting this girl out, it would be best not to interrupt him, after what he did to her there's no telling what he'd do to one of us." He motioned to the silver-clad dancer who stood awkwardly among the finery and the guards took pity on her. She was just doing this for the pay, but she got hurt in end. The guards glanced at the door to the bedroom nervously and nodded, they didn't want to be part of the man's 'experiments'.
"She gonna be alright?" One of the other guards asked, looking concerned.
"Doubt it, that girl's sense of trust has got to be violated or something." One of the others replied.
"Miss?" The guard who had asked about her stepped up to her and like a frightened deer, she froze and her lower lip trembled slightly. "It's cold outside, especially in clothes like that. Here," he shouldered off his suit jacket and moved behind her, draping it over her shoulders, "take this."
"I…your boss…" she stuttered, her whispering voice making the guards feel all the worse.
"Don't worry about him. Bastard can't keep going for what…one time?" The other guard asked and the girl cracked a small smile.
"Barely got through the first go, yeah." She said and they smiled at her.
"Well get out of here while you still can. See you around." They said to the boss's bodyguard who nodded and propelled the girl by her elbow away from the bedroom.
The boss lying in the bed had his eyes closed in sweet death, his body growing colder by the second. No doubt he was at the gates of Hell, his past demons swooping down on his damned soul. But looking back, the last thing he saw was a cruel and sadistic grin, not sly enough to be a demon, not heartless enough to be the devil, but somewhere in between. He realized it, what had seen was Death's Grin.