Dead weight

I was lying on the bed, my hands hanging down and touching the floor. She hugged me and placed her head on my cold chest  still crying a bit. I stepped closer to us, trying to touch her back with my fingers. Disturb the rivers of sweat on her back. They didn't obey me.

I've found her on a small website. In theory it was meant for young people like me for finding girls, but in reality it was a site for prostitutes. She advertised herself there, captivating images and a funny, yet clever description.

When I first met her on a windy night it was obvious  that she wasn't even close to 25 like she said. Her eyes and her behavior gave her away. She was only 19 that night, 20 in a few days.

I only looked for an escort, no strings attached, but she stuck around. Just like that. No question asked; she just followed me after the goodbye kiss at her apartment. I guess she was afraid to go in for some reason. Maybe a quick-tempered dad or an angry brother. I will never know.

I didn't call her back after that night. And that morning. And that afternoon. I just sent her home with an extra hundred euros, and told her not to call me again. She did. Even when I told her not to. A foul girl.

I couldn't resist her voice was too sweet and too intriguing for and “old” champ like myself. I took her to a nice restaurant; she ate like a starving pig.

Her clothes were a bit old and rugged, so our next step was the shopping mall close by. She tried to look like a real woman and choose everything for herself, but she ended up being clumsy and looked even more childish. I bought her the clothes she chose, but rather than calling it a day and return to our hotel for some action, I hadn't given up.

We stopped at the next store and this time I was the one doing the hard work. I bought her clothes that magnified her beauty even more. She just stood there and started dancing to a distant melody. Everybody was captivated by her moves like falling leaves at a chilly afternoon. I dragged her to the next store after that a strong, crimson lipstick and I could barely could resist kissing her before we got back to our hotel.

Our meetings continued no matter what I told her. It wasn't about the money or the things I got her. She started to think that I was her guardian. And lover. To be honest I enjoyed the latter a lot more.

She often got in trouble. One night a bunch of drunken fellows started asking too many questions while she was heading home. They didn't give up, watched her every step and followed her. She ended up calling me for help. I told her to switch to a different bus, while I caught a taxi and rushed to one of the stops.

When she got off the bus, the boys did the same. I casually walked next to them, quickly took out my baton and broke their legs and hands. The fight was over in a few seconds, the young ones scattered all around the bus stops, crying for help and screaming.

The time I turned to her, she was already collapsed on the ground, crying and whispering, “I don’t want this to happen again. Not again. Not again…”

I took her into my arms, and put her in the taxi. I found two hundred euros in my wallet what made the driver forget everything he saw.

I was hoping for a quiet, calm night to prepare for my big day, but she was back in my bed again. “Why are you so afraid of going home?”

She whispered some nonsense as an answer and kissed me. “Listen, I really need to know this. If there is something hurting you there, I can make some arrangements.”

Rather than answering me, her head and red, curly hair disappeared below our blanket. I tried to ask her again, but damn! She was extremely good in bed contrary to her childish clumsiness in real life.

I just sighed and gave up after she finished. She just simply loved everything about me, and I … I don’t know. I was just enjoying her fragile soul.

My death came faster than I thought. One night, one of the numerous nights we spent together, they arrived. Five dark figures led by one tall, slim woman broke in through the windows. They dipped their rusty knifes in my heart and killed me before I could even get up or at least warn her. I was getting weak.

She just stood at the table like a beautiful, frozen statue. They didn't touch her; they just left as unexpectedly as they have arrived.

She stepped close to me, hugged my dead body and placed her head on my chest. Her salty tears mixed with my dark blood. I was hovering above us; my ghostly figure chained to her with a hollow ray of light.

This was the first time I saw her astral body, and she was even more captivating than in real life. Her fragile body hid a powerful spirit inside; crimson, glowing streaks of energy flowed covering her body as her anger and fear slowly built up. She was almost as powerful as me before I gave everything up.

I flew closer, and whispered into her ears, “Avenge me. I will teach you how.” She looked up even more frightened than before. She heard me.

That was the day I had gained my second apprentice.