The young lady had retreated into silence during the taxi ride to the Marina Bay Sands. She looked out the window the entire time, seemingly admiring the landscape of synthetic lights emanating from the office buildings against the darkness of the night sky. Her arms were clasped tightly around Alvin’s left arm. Within the confines of the taxi, Alvin could smell her perfume, a light intoxicating fragrance. He could tell that the taxi driver could smell it too and was not taking well to it. The old man also kept stealing glances at them in his rear view mirror. ‘Nosy old bastard’, Alvin thought, wishing the driver to mind his own business.
As the taxi pulled up in the driveway, Alvin fished for a fifty-dollar bill for the fare. The driver was impatient to move on. He shut the automatic doors and sped off as soon as Alvin had finished telling him to keep the change. He ignored all the people waiting in the queue.
The walk through the lobby to the elevators was uneventful and Alvin was glad no one stopped him to ask his guest to register. As the two of them stumbled through the doorway of the suite, Alvin tried to pull her in for a kiss to start things off. She put a single finger against his lips, and pointed to the bathroom with her other hand. Taking a quick sniff under his arms, Alvin felt a sudden jolt of sobriety from the stench of sweat and alcohol that filled his nostrils. Conceding the point, Alvin made his way to the bathroom, grabbing a folded bathrobe from the walk-in closet on the way. He decided to take his time and wash himself thoroughly. It would sober him up too.
When he came out of the bathroom all freshened up, the darkness outside left him momentarily disorientated. He turned to the windows, the only source of light. He saw her silhouette. She was sitting on the bed, looking out the window. Even in the dark, her curves fed his anticipation for flesh. She stood up and approached him with careful, deliberate steps. He extended his arms to wrap them around her slender waist once she was within reach. His engorged and excited member was peeking out of the bathrobe. For a moment, he wondered if he might climax prematurely just by feeling her skin against his. It had been awhile since he last felt the touch of a woman.
Anticipation and desire gave way to confusion and bewilderment as soon as she made contact with him.
Alvin stood there with his mouth agape, frozen in place by the searing pain radiating from his chest. He looked down to see the scarlet fingernails of her left hand embedded into his chest. They had grown into daggers which were now carving his chest and reducing it to pieces. A crimson glow bathed her in the darkness, illuminating her face, once adorned with fine features but had become twisted into a mask of hate and bloodlust.
She continued the work of rending his heart into shreds, as she had vowed to do years before. As the pain paralysed Alvin, his eyes were transfixed on his torturer. Her visage had become more familiar to him as her fatal injuries emerged from under her thick makeup.
His father’s curse had caught up with him. Even as pain coursed through his nerves, he found himself feeling glad that May had not been born a boy.
It would end with him.
…to be continued
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