“Good, but by the looks of that outfit, and the menace behind your smile, I’d say I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you if I wanted to.”
“I’m glad you’re able to see when you’re outdone. I like anyone who defers to their superiors.” The faintest trace of a grin underlined her challenge. Someone caught her attention in the corner of her eye, and her instincts told her to move in, and fast. Her newly found prize stood with a drink in her hand across the room. Her prey deliciously appealed to her, as she walked away. “Excuse me, sweetie. I believe I’ve found something worth pursuing,” she said, not looking back at Roger
“Good hunting.”
“Thanks,” she called back.
Poisonous lay in a state of quiescence, satisfied. She propped herself up on one arm, and turned to her latest find. “That was delicious! You’re very creative. In fact, I’m like thinking about it.” She broke out her trademark wicked grin. “In fact, I believe I’m going to return the favor.”
Sometime later, Chloe lay beside her, smiling broadly. “Perri, you’re amazing..”
“My pleasure. I’m beginning to understand what they mean when they say, ‘It is better to give than to receive.’” A kiss on the lips followed. “Chloe, this has been amazing. We’ll have to revisit this.”
“Sure,” Chloe said. She got up and took a pen and paper from the nightstand. “Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll call you sometime.”
Ire rose in her again, unreasonably, she knew, but she hated taking orders from anyone. She contemplated melting away Chloe’s body, but too many people—some who were probably her friends and acquaintances—who would be suspect of a person disappearing altogether. Thinking better of it, she said, “Sure.”
Numbers exchanged, she waved goodbye and walked out of the bedroom.
Her rumbling stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten for a while, so she headed to the hors-d‘œuvres table. Roger walked up to her from across the room, and put his arm around her shoulders. “You know Perri—you’re good. You had her in the bedroom in less than five minutes. She must see something in you she likes. You must have been nice to her.”
She turned around, smiled, and pulled him close, kissing him. "Mmm." After the kiss, she said, “Oh, no, sweetie. I’m good at what I do—my skills have nothing to do with being nice. You should know by now that I’m only nice to get what I want. Then I’m evil through and through.”
“Yes, you’re formidable, but I’m right there with you. To me, it’s all in the hunt, and the eventual conquest.”
“Keep talking like that, and I’ll take advantage of you myself.”
He grinned. “And what’s stopping you?”
“I’m still feeling good after being with Chloe. Mmm—I want your bedroom this time.” On their way, they passed by another of Roger’s spare bedrooms. A woman cried out.
She frowned. “I would never let anyone raise their hand to me... ever.” Breathing quickened; her pulse arose; her fists clenched. She let go of Roger’s hand and stared hard at the bedroom door. Her heart pounded and her body shook.
Fury within her intensified to a boil: hands clenched like claws; her talon-like fingernails twitched, ready to strike. Her mouth opened slightly to reveal tightly clenched teeth. She shook with anger and fear. She hated knowing of pain inflicted: it reminded her of the torment that awaited her.
She looked through Roger, as though he weren’t there. The door slowly faded from view, and the nightmare that had haunted her since her arrival on earth crept up on her, floating into her mind like noxious clouds enveloping her thoughts, and suffocating her.
She lay on a stone table in a hot and suffocating room in Hell. Dank, fetid odors filled her nostrils. Handcuffs restrained her hands and feet. She squirmed and trembled. Eyes wide open, her tormentor drew her attention to himself.
Her tormenter hovered over her, close to thirteen feet high. Huge muscles bulged from his arms, chest and legs. Grayish-green scales covered his skin, while sharp, boney horns protruded from his skull and jaw line. Dark, expressionless eyes looked right through her. He bared his sharp fangs, and hissed, “You will reap your just reward, daughter of Eve.”
"But... I’m not a daughter of Eve. I'm one of you—"
“Silence!”
The demon ignored her plea, and beat her ragged with foot long nails, sharp as swords. Each blow made her recoil, crying and begging for mercy.
A voice quietly called, “Perri.”
She wanted to answer, but could only scream as the razor-like nails smashed against every part of her body, inflicting deep gashes, and exposing underlying muscle and organs.
“Perri,” the voice called again.
The dream faded back into the recesses of her tortured soul.
Roger held her, and called her name again. “Perri, are you all right?”
Roger’s puzzled expression bewildered her; she stared at him until recognition returned her to the present.
“Are you all right?” he repeated.
Before she could say another word, she heard, Slap! Slap! The woman cried out again.
“Okay, that’s it! I’m going in there. I’ll tear that son of a dog into a bloody pulp. She turned toward the door, and charged. Just before she reached the door, Roger’s two strong hands stopped her.
“Don’t interfere with me, Roger, or I’ll hurt you as well,” she snarled.
“Perri, calm down: the woman in there will be fine, I promise you.”
“How can you say that? Don’t you hear her crying out?”
He removed one hand, and pointed it at the bedroom. “If someone was hurting her, don’t you
