Part Six: Pretty Stupid Girls

Sam turned to face the clock and sleepily opened his eyes; it had just gone noon.

"Dean…" Sam said, sitting up in his bed.

His brother groaned before opening his eyes, letting go of the pillow he'd been hugging.

And he'd been having such a good dream about a blonde in a pair of hot-pants.

Wait…that hadn't been a dream.

"Morning, or should I say afternoon," another voice said.

Both brothers bolted out of bed and found Robin seated at a nearby table.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean shouted, swiftly removing a gun from underneath the other pillow on his bed.

"Forgotten me already?" the girl replied, standing up.

Sam studied the girl in the murky light of the room and although she had shorter dark hair and different clothes, she was the girl from the club.

"You're from the Blue Orchid?" Sam said tentatively.

"I am," the girl replied, seeming to show no fear at having a gun pointed at her.

Both brothers stared harder at the girl, completely confused at her sudden appearance. Was this some sort of trap?

"Right. Well what do you want?" Dean said loudly, chocolate memories floating into his mind.

"Why don't you put the gun down and then we can talk?" Robin said.

"No…not until you tell us who you are, how you got in here and what you want?" Dean replied, wondering at the girl's calm demeanour.

"I'm not talking to you when I have a gun in my face. So as I see it, you have two options, you can either lower the gun or you can shoot me. And I'm pretty sure having a murder charge is not what you want, so put it down."

But Dean didn't move or answer, he just stared at her, visually checking for any signs of a weapon anywhere.

"Ok, look…" Robin muttered, removing her coat and turning around, "I'm not armed."

Sam looked over at his brother and nodded for him to lower the weapon; Dean agreed and slotted it into his boxer shorts.

"So what do you want then?" Sam asked, trying to read the girl's face for some sort of clue to her motives. But she was calm and closed, a mystery.

Robin looked at the two men in front of her and paused for a second before answering.

Was she making the right decision?

Could she really trust them?

More and more questions buzzed in her head in that small second but there was only reply and that was the smiling face of a boy.

"I want your help," Robin finally said, her heart beating with pain and love.


Madam looked around the empty club, felt the silence in her ears and the peace that comes when being by yourself.

She lay back on a couch and closed her eyes, thinking about her journey to this moment. Images of her first kill came drifting back to her, she remembered her hunger, the overwhelming need. Her victim had barely just turned 21, he was a good looking boy with golden curls and blue eyes. He had looked so much like him. That's probably why she had chosen him for her first.

And it had been so easy to lure him away to a quiet spot in the woods, so easy for him to trust her completely, so easy for her just to take what she needed.

Men, tough hunter-gatherers, strong, the better sex…

Belle started to laugh at the mere thought.

She could see it so clearly now, the ache and agony in the man's face, the excitement of seeing the life drain out of him as she sucked his life-force out.

"You're pathetic, you're nothing to me now!" she had shouted, her anger so fierce, her revenge so complete.

Then as the memory started to fade, the boy's last words came to her, "sorry."

And Belle smiled, "sorry," the most pitiful words to come out of any human being's mouth.

How she hated those words…

After that, it became so easy. They just flocked to her side, their pitiful lives sacrificed for her brilliant one.

But as she killed more, things became more difficult, more dangerous, her need was growing. Every time she needed more and more, she was like an addict seeking out any means to get her high, to get her drug.

She remembered the times when her secret has almost been revealed, her true self almost thrown into the light of people's suspicious minds. But she shouldn't have worried, her one weakness, men, was also her greatest strength. A look and her handcuffs were loose, another and they were giving her their cars, their money, their anything. They needed her and she needed them and neither wanted to break the relationship.

But she knew that eventually, she would have to come up with a better plan of attack, of feeding and then about 40 years ago, her 'Blue Orchid' had come to her.

And it was all because of that stupid girl. That pretty, stupid girl.

It was a slow night; the men were scarce and boring, and although her hunger was biting at her stomach, she just didn't seem to have the heart for it tonight…

Then she appeared, a bleach blonde with long legs and a tiny waist. Her lips were smeared with red oil-paint and her chest squeezed into a suede halter-neck. She was pretty, if you liked that kind of thing and the few men that were in the bar, certainly seemed to.

Her companions although nearly dying from the sight of Belle, were put off by her indifference and coldness. This girl however, was about as brash and loud as they came, so perfectly uncouth that they knew after a beer, she'd be theirs.

Belle felt a slight pang of jealously, as she felt the men around her, follow the girl with their eyes, their want divided between her and Blondie.

Then for no reason, the girl walked up to her and slotted herself into the next seat.

"Guess it's just you and me tonight, girlie," she said in a drunken slur.

Belle made no effort to reply but winced slightly, taking another sip of her cheap and tasteless beer.

"Yeah ok, you think you're too good for me, eh?" Blondie replied, nodding to herself.

The men now fell completely silent, even the bar-tender seemed entranced by the exchange between the girl and Belle.

"Well honey," the girl continued, "don't forget, you're in this dump with me, not looking in, you're sitting in here next to me. So why don't you get off your high horse and maybe we could have a good time together?"

Madam turned her attention towards the impertinent girl and smirked slightly, her words had been the most exciting to hit her, all night. She leaned in to whisper something in the girl's ear when suddenly…

"Kiss her!" a crude voice yelled from a dark corner.

"$50 if you do!" another called.

"$100!"

"$200!"

The amounts were building up, it was a feeding frenzy.

"So what do you say, girlie?" Blondie whispered, as she slid a hand onto Belle's knee.

"I'm not a whore," Madam replied, removing the girl's hand, "I have class."

"That makes two of us, sweetheart. But I could do with a bit of spare cash and it's just a kiss," Blondie said, winking at the men beside her.

And maybe it was the boredom, maybe it was the blonde's unrefined charm or maybe she had just wanted to, whatever it was, that night Belle kissed that girl.

She remembered as later that night when she had fed and was making her way back to her motel room, the smell that had stopped her in her tracks.

It was the smell of a man in heat but more than that, it was so much more.

She followed her nose and eventually, it led her to a truck parked in an alley. She saw the rocking motions and knew it was occupied but she waited all the same, she needed to find out what the smell was.

Eventually, two men slipped out of the truck, goofy smiles on their faces. Belle rolled her eyes and was about to leave when out of the truck, a bunch of dollars in her hand, Blondie emerged.

The smell exploded from the girl and into Belle's nose and before she could stop herself, she had dragged the girl into the alleyway and started to feed again.

Afterwards, she stared down at the lifeless body and felt a warm contentment hit her; she'd never experienced something like this before. Her hunger had never been satisfied like this before.

But how?

She gazed at the girl, somehow she had become like her, been able to draw out of the energy from the men she'd been with. But this girl wasn't like her, she wasn't a…

Then it hit her, that kiss, in that kiss, she had somehow managed to transfer some of her power to her.

Following this revelation, it had just been a natural progression to form the club. Her own herd of cattle that she could fatten up over the years.

Aww…her girls.

The lost girls, the girls that had run away, that needed something, money, stability, excitement; they were all welcomed with open arms into her safe haven that was 'The Blue Orchid.'

"Excuse me, Madam," Carlos said quietly.

Belle looked over at her head of security, actually her only security; she didn't trust anyone else. He was the only man she ever kept around, the muscle that was easily tamed by a kiss and a look. Idiot.

"Yes?"

"The girls are arriving."

Belle nodded, another shift was beginning. She needed to get upstairs and prepare some more potion. She lightly touched her thigh where underneath her skirt, light scars blemished her skin.

No, Madam thought to herself, no-one could ever say that she hadn't given her life's blood to this club.