Filth of the earth
Here I am with yet another Jhonny fic.
Listening to songs about prostitution makes things of this come to mind.
Not that I think in these extremes. But I know somebody that does.
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He growls to himself. His temperament goes unhidden as he drags himself along the sidewalk. Barely clothed women seeming to arouse from nowhere. Hollering and whistling with that kind of high pitched voice that makes you want to ram a knife down their throat in hopes of them shutting the fuck up!
He swears under his breath. He wasn't even supposed to be out tonight. It had been nailbunny that convinced him. "Go out." He said as he was just about to gauge out someone's eyes with a ladle. "Go get a slushy. You'll feel a lot better."
Oh he felt better alright. Better about going on a killing spree in the middle of the road.
On the other side of the road he could see a homeless man begging for loose change. Two extremes of the lowest level of human beings together in one street. Oh what had this stinking ball of piss and sick come to.
"At least whores do something for their pay." A voice resounded through his head.
"Yeah, that's more then we can say about the homeless."
The doughboys sounded especially edgy today. He'd noticed it before while he was busy pushing clothing pins into some girl her toes.
"I say kill them all."
"You would."
"Shut it Mr. F!"
He groaned as he ran a hand through his short black hair. Head already ablaze with inner turmoil.
The thumping base from a nearby dance club did nothing for his headache and the florescent lighting hurt his eyes. He was this close to just fucking screaming when something suddenly blocked the annoyingly bright lights from his eyes.
Looking up another groan escaped him. A big breasted woman was hovering over him, cleavage to the point it no longer mattered if she actually wore a shirt.
"Hey honey, looking for some company are we?"
"It's a gift from Satan! She must really want to die!" The loud comments drowned out every other sound he thought he'd heard. But as the more he looked over the face, which was barely visible behind the thick layers of make-up covering it. The more he had to agree. She must have a death wish.
"What are you selling?"
The words had escaped him, well trained out, things he'd heard others say. But that perfect smile stayed on.
"Anything you want baby." She commented licking her lips. Probably thinking she's sealed the deal.
"Strange, and here I thought that you already had all that you were worth." He hissed at her as he took a step back. "Just because your daddy didn't love you enough."
Her face paled as she looked at him. For a split second she was no longer a slave to her body. For a moment she turned back into the woman she had been before she'd turned into this filth.
"Fuck you." She said before turning around and turning straight back to the dance club.
"You let her get away!!" An obviously aggravated voice screamed out from inside him. But he had to chuckle. "I don't want to kill something that's already dead. Death would be a release for her. All blood that would come from her would be the remains of the human she used to be."
And with that he turned on his heal.
"Besides, the sun will be up in a few hours. Might as well skin a homeless."
The cheers from inside almost made him smile.
It was a good night after all.
///
In case you're wondering. The prostitute committed suicide right after this fic.
She won't be missed.
Be smart kids, don't go into prostitution.
Because in the end.
Nobody will miss you.