Part Eight: Piece By Piece

Robin smiled politely at the blonde business man's joke, before taking her glass and spitting Belle's aphrodisiac into her drink.

As her eyes gazed around the club, she felt her stomach turn at what she saw. Grown men on their knees, begging these women to be theirs; the girls laughing like hyenas, their glazed expressions reflecting nothing except pity. It reminded her of some sort of grotesque circus where the lions did the taming.

"Robin…" the blonde man whined. His need for her attention was starting to grate on her nerves.

"Yes?" the girl replied sweetly, trying desperately to think of a way to escape.

"Just wanted to check you were alright. You seem a little bored with me," he said coyly, fiddling with his tie.

"No, never. Carry on," Robin answered, digging her nails into her leg to stop herself from screaming out.

The blonde man blinded by his own lust then excitedly started into a massive long story, involving a melon and a screwdriver.

Ten minutes later and the man was still going strong, showing no signs of running out of steam. Robin on the other hand was on the brink of smacking him stupid. Maybe she should have taken the weird potion; it certainly would have made the night and the men more tolerable.

Then as Robin's hand began to rise from her side, primed to stop the man's incessant gibbering, a loud scream was heard from the other side of the room.

The whole club fell silent and all eyes turned to the source of the scream. It had come from Lucy, who was seated on a couch with a rotund man who didn't seem to be taking no for an answer.

"Let me go!" Lucy yelled, pushing the man away, his hideous mouth puckered up for a kiss.

"Come on, just a peck. It's not much to ask. Come on, I know you want it!" he cried out, his hands running all over Lucy's delicate body.

Robin immediately rushed over and with one swift movement, removed Lucy from Fatty's grip.

"Oh, so you want a piece of the action, do you?" Fatty said, winking dirtily at the girl.

"You ok?" Robin said gently, ignoring him.

"Yeah. Thanks," Lucy whispered, her make-up slightly smudged and her hair out of place.

"Hey! I was talking to you!" Fatty yelled.

Robin, already pissed off that night was just looking for an excuse to take out her anger on someone. And she turned to face the fat bastard, ready to give him an ass kicking he would never forget, when a hand fell onto her shoulder.

It was Belle.

"Does there seem to be a problem?"

"Yeah, this little bitch interrupted my fun," Fatty said, glaring at Robin.

"Well sir, I do apologise. I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding," Belle continued, charm oozing out of her every pore.

"Yeah well…I paid good money to be here because I expect the best, not this crap," and again Fatty stared at Robin, whose fists were now clenched so tight, her nails were cutting into her skin.

"Yes, I'm sure…" Madam started.

"Look, I don't care about your excuses, just get that bitch out of my sight and another whiskey in my hand, there's a good girl," and then with a mighty slap of his hand, he smacked Belle across the arse.

Robin felt the whole room hold their breath to see what Madam would do. But strangely, she remained calm, a beautiful smile still on her face.

"Yes, of course. And just to say an extra sorry, I'll let you have a glass of my rare vintage reserve," Belle said sweetly, betraying none of the seething hate underneath.

Fatty lay back on the couch, seeming to consider the offer. He could probably sense something wasn't right, feel the danger in the air.

"Please, I promise it'll be worth your while," Belle said, laying a tender hand on his knee to emphasise her point.

After that, Fatty was putty in her claws.

"This way then, it's up in my office," Madam said, taking Fatty's arm, a look on her face so fierce, Robin felt the hair on the back of neck stand up on edge.

The pair quickly disappeared behind a curtain and the club returned to normal, the people bustling about and laughing as if nothing had taken place.

Wonder what's going to happen to him, Robin thought and then like a lightning bolt, it hit her.

Dean and Sam!


"There's nowhere to hide!" Dean shouted, as he helplessly walked around the room.

"Well what are we going to do then?" Sam muttered, racking his brains for someway to get out of this mess.

As their time grew shorter, Sam's nerves started to build, he needed time to think, he needed some air…

"Wait, the window!"

"You crazy! We can't jump out of there, we'd die," Dean said loudly, shaking his head.

"When did I say jump?" Sam replied sharply, opening the window to look outside.

"So what then?"

"The ledge. It seems wide enough for us to stand on, I think," Sam said, starting to climb out of the window, "come on!"

Dean gritted his teeth and hurried out after his brother, saying a little prayer that God would deliver a dumpster full of pillows underneath them and if possible, female Swedish masseuses on hand as well.

As the brothers edged out carefully on the ledge and closed the window, Belle and Fatty appeared.

Perfect timing.

The two brothers peered cautiously into the room to watch the action.

"Take a seat, please," Belle said kindly, as she locked the door behind them.

Fatty obliged, removing his sweaty jacket as he did.

Belle nodded and walked over to her bar area, bringing out a large crystal bottle and two glasses.

"I'm not stupid, you know?" Fatty said suddenly.

"I never said you were," Belle replied, turning around, the glasses in her hand.

"I know why you brought me here," he carried on, a yellow-teethed smile on his lips.

"Oh I doubt it…" the woman quipped, handing the glass to her companion.

Fatty took a little sip before proceeding with his speech, "I know you're just trying to sweeten me up, so I won't go and report your little whore-house to the police."

"This isn't a brothel. None of the girls here are for sale," Madam replied, drinking down her whiskey with speed.

"The police don't know that. All they'll know is what I tell them," Fatty said, his voice achingly patronising.

"You haven't finished your whiskey yet? Drink up. I so hate waste," Belle said, seeming to ignore the obvious threat in front of her.

In all her years since opening 'The Blue Orchid,' she'd always had a few customers like these, men who thought they were better than her, who thought they could own her, who believed they were in control. She hated men like this so much that she could feel the heat of her rage in her stomach, and to think he had actually hit her…

She had to admit he had been the first to do that. Yes, others had threatened her with bodily harm but none had ever touched her. Fatty had caught her off guard and now would have to pay the price. She was going to so enjoy ripping him apart, piece by piece, letting his smarmy face fade and crumple under her touch. He had to learn, actually all men had to in her opinion, they had to know that they were the weak ones, they were nothing, they were just the dirt beneath her feet.

Fatty gulped down the strong whiskey and felt it burn his throat, "ok, I finished it. Do I get a prize?"

"Yes, you get to choose which body part I rip off last…"

The man shook his head, what was she saying?

What did she…?

But before he could think another thought, Belle had already smacked him across the room, shattering one of the large mirrors.

"I…I…" but Fatty's mouth was engulfed with his own blood.

"Awww…you poor thing, you actually thought you had the upper hand, didn't you?" Belle said nicely, before kicking him repeatedly in the stomach.

Fatty groaned and fell onto his back, the glass crushing into his skin.

"Get up!"

But the man remained still on the floor.

"I said get up!" Madam screamed again, picking the man up.

Fatty clumsily stood on his feet and tried to focus on the figure in front of him, but it was all so blurry.

"You're so pathetic. At least try and have some dignity," Belle snapped, her eyes bulging with crazed anger.

Fatty nodded and then with the last ounce of his strength, he pulled a revolver from his inside jacket pocket and shot over and over again.

Four of the six bullets hit Belle's body but none of them hurt her.

Fatty stared at the woman who he had just shot several times, trying to see the pain in her face, trying to see her blood trickling from her body but it was no use, because Belle as always, was perfect.

"You know, I really do underestimate you, don't I?" Belle said, her voice full of venom.

The man froze in shock, how could this be? Why wasn't she on the floor in agony? He had shot her; he had watched the bullets enter her body.

Belle walked quietly towards the stunned man, "you'll probably wondering why I'm not dead?"

But Fatty couldn't talk, his mind was flooding with so many thoughts, it was hard to really know what to think.

"Well I'll let you on a little secret, since I know you'll take it to your grave…You can't kill someone without a heart," and Belle laughed so loudly that the room seemed to shake.

Fatty looked deep into the thing's eyes and searched them for some humanity but it wasn't there. Its eyes were just cold and unfeeling.

"What are you?" he finally said, his voice so full of fear, it was trembling.

"I'm a daughter of Lillith. I am the ultimate woman, I'm what they call, a succubus," Belle replied softly, and with those final words ringing in his ears, Fatty was ripped limb from limb, his blood flowing like a river under Belle's leather boots.