-All right, so this chapter became a lot more adult-themed than I first intended, therefore the rating will change to M ...
-Waring: contains prostitution, even though nothing sexual happens...
-I'm already working on chapter three, and I guess I'll need at least two more chapters to really get into the story without rushing things
-reviews are always nice, but I won't suddenly stop writing if you don't do one... (critical reviews are certainly helpful since I'm still not convinced by the way I write.. I won't take criticism personally..)
He watched his surroundings, trying to ignore his hurting and growling stomach. He hadn't eaten in three days now and since he had never been in the situation where he had nothing to eat before, his inexperienced innards objected vehemently against this ordeal.
As he stroked the smooth surface of the statue, felt the coldness oozing from the dark material, his inner fire slowly shrunk, leaving him with the numb feeling of a rage, almost forgotten, but still present, haunting him in moments of silence.
Swiftly he rose and crossed the square, looking for a public bathroom of some sort, finding a restaurant with enough decency to let him through without actually ordering anything.
Inside the green tiled room with the dim light, Warren turned to the sink, moistening his face with cold water before looking into the mirror.
He looked pretty awful, his face like a pale mask, the dark eyes dull and tired, his hair a greasy mess. It reflected his state of mind, a looking glass into his soul so to say.
He hated it, being an open book for everyone interested in knowing his mental condition, he tried to hide his desperation, his weariness, but it wouldn't work, not this time. He left the rest room even more downcast than before, not paying any attention to the people inside the restaurant, who watched him sceptically.
He tried to sort out his thoughts, there had to be some way he could make money easy and quick. But the past fourteen years that were his life hadn't taught him anything helpful when it came to working, there had always been many problems, still, money was never one of those.
Before Warren realized, the sun was already fading, disappearing behind the horizon, as the streets emptied, safe for the prostitutes.
Prostitution was, from all Warren knew, illegal, still those woman and men couldn't be anything else, lingering in those endless side streets, in the shadows, waiting for drifters or their regular customers, Warren huffed with revulsion as he turned to leave this part of the city, maybe the city limits would be somewhat more appealing to him.
Just as he was about to leave-
„Hey, how much?‟, Warren turned to the speaker, some overweight old man, sitting in a black BMW, watching him though dark glasses.
Just as Warren was about to shoot back an angry reply he got an idea.
Forcing his face into the brightest smile he could muster Warren turned to the driver and replied: „Well, that depends on what you want.‟
After they exchanged some more words, in which Warren was careful, not to let his anger at this man erupt, he entered the car, not without feeling a bit anxious, and said man drove them to some spacy parking area just outside the city.
„Well, then, undress‟, his voice was slick and demanding, Warren looked through the car's front window and composed himself for what he had planned.
„Hey, kid, I said-‟, those where the last words Warren heard from the man.
A fat hand touched his shoulder and he reacted immediately, setting his own skin on fire and pushing the man back. The scream was muffled by Warren's hand as he pushed the pervert out of the driver's door and onto the pebbles that covered the floor.
Smelling the burned flesh of the man's hand with satisfaction, Warren inflamed his free hand and held it in a way the man could see it.
„Give me everything in your purse‟, his voice was hoarse, resembling a growl, the man hesitated, „now!‟
Nothing more than a whimper as Warren hit him on the temple, then the man was still and Warren left the parking lot significantly richer.