A short story by Jassa Evermore

It was said that a night in Sin City was one to keep in privacy, yet Marissa was eager to make it a night worthy of gossip. When Marissa Vain found her books yielded no appointments, she enjoyed her evenings seated near the arched window stretched from floor to ceiling, overlooking the landscape of the tainted city in happy loneliness. Most women she knew preferred to spend their evenings accompanied by another, a handsome face with a rich wallet, or mingling with the crowds that walked the streets illuminated by a thousand dancing lights. Alas, Marissa found it was more beneficial to consume this time all to herself. To leave meant the chance of bumping into old acquaintances, and the bars that stretched across the Sinful City were packed full of bickering and mourning individuals wishing to have their darlings close. No, she would leave the ghouls alone until the light finally found them.

It was cold this evening despite being inside the open space of her living room, bare feet touching the carpet stained in burgundy, soft as rose petals under her toes. The black dress gown she wore snug at the curves, tucked in close as she sat snugly in the plush chair, the shades of midnight cascading down her porcelain shoulders peeking through the fabric. From this velvet throne, she gazed out over the city, occasionally getting lost in the pinpoints of lights dancing across the building surfaces. The brush of cinnamon and sandalwood was quiet in her aura when she shifted in her seat as she was now, a thought in her mind, like on the tip of her tongue.

She marveled over the sheets of illuminating city stars. She wondered how many of those lights were accompanied by faceless beasts ready to set themselves ablaze and ride the flames into one of the many layers of Hell. This thought was not foreign to her, and each time, it sparked the image of The Gentleman in her mind’s eye. He being everything but what his title suggested. He was nothing like those faceless beings yearning to see their darlings once more. The Gentleman was nothing like them. He was a monster with a cold heart disguised as a charmer. Adding to His collection was not decided on a whim; He gravitated towards those who were radiant with ambition and driven to capture their dreams, seeking to steal their thirst for living a memorable life and swallow it for Himself. The chase thrilled many, but draining liquid dreams was what He preferred.

The thick ruby liquid danced in her crystal glass as she swirled it. Her mind whiplashing back to Him and the curiosity of what it was that brought Him to this godless oasis. Something delicious and sweet must have captured His attention well enough to maintain His lingering interest. Marissa imagined His new toy to be a pretty little thing, perhaps a musician experienced with the nightlife, with no former home to return to should the city swallow them up. This valley in the desert lit up the night from miles and miles away with an enchanted glow drawing in a large variety of mortals to it, like moths to their world’s dying flame. 

“Fangs always look good on a singer,” she murmured.

A clock was ticking across the penthouse, and upon the hour, the chime sighed and echoed over the tiled empty spaces. Marissa rolled over the residue of her thoughts, recognizing the roots of what it felt like to be the “second favorite,” like a child watching on as the parents gushed and fawned over their new trophy puppy. What an awful feeling, she thought with a longer gulp from her wine.

Just as the woman began settling into this state of self-hibernation for the evening, a knock rattled her back to the present. She wondered if she had imagined it until the knock resonated from the door again. Now, those buzzing thoughts were snuffed out like candle smoke, leaving her frozen, scanning for a sense of someone being there. Marissa rose from the velvet loveseat, bringing the glass and nestling it close to her chest. The sweet berries and iron notes brushed her nose, aiding in this desperation to stay grounded.

Cutting the distance to the front door, the woman willed herself to find calm, to feel the tips of her fingers cradling the glass and the pads of her toes touching the chilled tile that greeted the front door. “Ears burning, dear? I was just thinking about you,” Marissa said upon opening the heavy door, bringing a ray of artificial light into her nest high atop the city. On the other side stood The Gentleman clad in a long navy-blue dress jacket and shirt along with matching pants, tendrils of dark brown hair pulled back behind His head into a long ponytail tied with a silk ribbon the same shade as His garb. Behind tinted spectacles, He gazed at her with hues the shade of precious Greek silver. He did not respond to her immediately, nor did He have to, as His smile was small, with the edges sharp enough to deepen a dimple, making Marissa uncomfortable.

She reached out towards Him and curled her fingers around a metal cross hanging from a rosary that hung from His neck. It had been tucked away, and with the light, she had managed to see it peek out from between His shirt buttons.

“This is new. A reaper trying to be a saint?” she remarked with a brow arched, unsure whether to be amused or disgusted.

He chuckled behind closed lips and stepped inside without waiting for proper invitations. Of course, He would do as He pleased, and as Marissa discovered in their early years together, it was best to avoid critiquing or correcting Him. “Only Mozart tonight? Seems a little lonely, but that is how you like things,” He said, circling the whole living room with His silver gaze bouncing off every surface, looking for signs of additional company.

She remained near the door, having closed it with her gaze never straying off him. Watching Him was inevitable. The simplest of things He did were performed with effortless grace. Equivalent to being as brilliant as the city with a rotten core at the center, the city was His puppet, and He the Puppeteer. 

It reminded her of why she needed to do away with him. Once, she had been a rosy-cheeked young woman with invincible intentions until the night He found her. She believed He had been sent to cure her loneliness and to be her muse from which songs came quickly. However, while Marissa drank up this new fantasy with the wine He provided, oblivious to the strings He was sewing through his newest addition, ready to place her next to the millions. 

A glass of wine was poured for Him, the bottle marked with a ripe year, the crystal chilled from the fridge at the mini bar the penthouse had just feet from her usual sitting space. Gliding onto the carpet again, she watched Him gaze out her tall windows to the landscape of city stars and silhouetted mountains far off. As she closed the distance between them, she stopped within arm’s reach and extended the complimentary glass to Him. The aroma was just a few notes different from her own, much fruitier to disguise the alcohol. “So, tell me what, or rather who has been keeping your interest lately. A few months have passed since I heard the Others say a thing about you. Rather uncharacteristic, Adam. Normally, you are out there running amuck,” Marissa said, attempting to banish the silence.

He took the glass, swirling it to make the crimson liquid dance, the casual smile that tugged over one half of his face implying he enjoyed the fragrance. After a long gulp, he said, “Is that jealousy, or are you just being nosy?” He watched Marissa, but the woman did not give him an inch; it was only her attention and patience. He sat in a chair akin to her own and downed the rest of his wine in preparation to talk about himself.

“You know the bar Downtown with the terrible service but only stays open because of their incredible live music? The Velveteen Rabbit or White Rabbit, I cannot remember. There’s a musician there who knows how to perform and sounds eerily similar to Stevie Nicks. She has been in Vegas for three years, yet I’ve only just met her,” He said with a grin on his face.

Marissa’s heart eclipsed, her chest going numb and hollow. She knew precisely of this individual He spoke of but would not breathe her name in His presence; she had not over the years of knowing her in fear He would take an interest and seek her out not just for the girl’s talent but also to spite her. Marissa first came across the young talent through the online video platform YouTube, and since then, she has held a special admiration for her from afar. Over the years, Jasmin had grown on her channel, starting in the basement of her former living space and greeting her virtual audience with an awkward smile and likable personality.

At first, Marissa thought it cute that the young talent had a sparkle in her eyes, which was common in youths when they had dreams to be achieved, veiled by the hurts and abominations of the world. This was what lured Him in, Marissa was sure. He was a monster created for the sole purpose of taking, and Jasmin checked all the boxes.

“The world would have loved her,” He added, then cleared his throat, enjoying the sound of his own voice. “Perhaps in the next life, you two could be friends.”

Would’ve. Marissa noticed the determination in His gaze, signaling that his mind was made up, though the specifics of his plan remained unformed. Otherwise, His tone would have been different. For a brief moment, she felt as if she were trapped in a nightmare. A surge of anxiety added to the discomfort she had been experiencing since He had appeared. Maintaining her calm was starting to become a challenge.

Adam cleared his throat again, His face losing the grin. Did he sense her unease, she wondered?

“Darling, what grade is that wine? Was this another shipment from Washington?” He asked, allowing himself to look uncomfortable and coughed into his hand once the empty glass was set aside.

“In the 90s, I would say, but it is a special grade. Homemade,” she said, eyes fixed on him, the color more ethereal than before.

Adam met her gaze while He shifted in His seat, trying to alleviate what He was feeling. However, right now, His throat was itching from the inside, and the sensation of His guts melting away was taking its effect. Nevertheless, how Marissa knew for certain that her plan was in motion was the way Adam’s pupils shrank; His face painted with the realization that something was wrong, but it was too late to do anything about it.

Marissa could not sit down nor act casually any longer.  She wanted to be ready in case this was not enough.

“What. Did. You. Do?!” Adam gasped between labored breaths and stifled coughs. Silver eyes stared daggers in her direction, blackened veins visible around His irises, the lovely quality of His voice burning away to a rasp of pain. Was this the first time He had been inflicted with pain? Marissa thought as if the world were focused on this very moment.

Suddenly, Adam growled and then moved with inhuman speed towards Marissa, lashing out a hand with fingers now wielding blackened talons, but a shot of pain sent Him crumbling upon the floor. Adam lay there in a fetal position, groaning and clutching His stomach with hands that resembled a human once more. He clenched his jaw and bared His teeth, the light catching those sharp and pointed canine fangs Marissa despised.

“Your victims deserve a choice, Adam. You robbed me of my life, and so I am taking yours away. Your immortal reign ends tonight.” As she said this, her mind drifted to Jasmin; in doing this, she was saving and many others. And as she watched Adam struggle against the poison running through his accursed veins, the epitome of beauty that He had captured everlasting now decaying. The youth on His cheeks grew hollow, the shimmer in His eyes dulled to slate grey, and His plush lips curled back, stretching to reveal the monster with fangs.

Adam croaked beads of black, gazing up at her from the floor. “How you cry and worry for those like yourself, and you think by getting rid of me, there will be peace?” He said, a sliver of a smirk noticeable on His lips.

While He began to wind down on the poison, Marissa made her way back to her chair, gliding her hand along the velvet surface and ignoring the way. His breathing slowed and went quiet. She thought what a stir this would create—a ripple of gossip through the City. “Enough is enough,” she declared.

Marissa Vain relaxed into her seat. On the floor lay the remains of a lifeless devil, yet her focus was drawn to the urban landscape outside, where the city lights sparkled like freshly discovered gems. She felt an unusual lightness in her body, a clarity in her thoughts, and a sense of peace enveloping her.