The clack of stilettos echo through the streets. A tall, fair-skinned woman walks alone, weaving through alleys and stepping over trash and drunkards as if it were second nature.
*Sigh* How boring... Its no fun when no one comes out to play.
She rounds another corner, her silver-tipped hair flowing behind her effortlessly until she finally comes to a rust spotted door. She rapps seven times on the door and a previously invisible slot opens up in the top of the door to reveal black, lifeless eyes. The person behind the dark eyes squints, then grunts in annoyance. The person steps back, closing the slot then starts to unlock the door.
Come on man.... Why do you even need so many locks?! How many people REALLY try to break in here? hu?
The woman taps her shoe on the ground impatiently until the door opens for her. She hikes her purse string further up her shoulder then pushes past the door, sneering at the doorman as she walks through... She walks down the long, concrete hall. there are no windows and only one other door at the end of the hall. There are various symbols and pentagrams painted on either side of the hall and as she passes through each one she seems to become less and less human. Her skin grows darker like ashes from the grave, black cracks begin to form in her skin as her dark lips curl up into a smile. She comes to the last door and the last pentagram, Twisted horns form on either side of her head as she walks through into a very lively night club.
I'm back bitches! Now who's buying my drinks!?
She throws her hands in the air, yelling at no one in particular and walks to a table set against the wall. The table is occupied by other, equally inhuman creatures. The tables occupants throw their hands up as she walks closer.
Bethala! There's my favorite hooker!
The man on the end smiles with gnashing teeth. He seems normal enough... if not for the horns pushing to the back of his head like a greased back hair style and the fact that he has tentacles where his legs should be.
Bethala smiles and throws her hair over her shoulder. She pulls up a chair and looks around the table.
Bethala:
Well if it isn't the sea witch! I though you were supposed to be a woman. The cartoon doesn't do you justice!
Man:
Ha! Like I haven't heard that a million times! Get some new material sugar slut.
The two exchange a friendly smile before turning their attention to the rest of the group.
Bethala:
So..... Who's life are we fucking up tonight?