6 degrees of 7 sins

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

This was an entry to a short-story contest on storywrite years ago. Since I'm transferring my other stuff I figured it should have a home here too.

Submitted: June 12, 2018

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Submitted: June 12, 2018



It's friday, and friday's mean business. 'Anastacia' abandoned her run down aptartment on the lower west side and hit the streets. As she walked, her mind wondered on why she'd become a prostitute. Truth be told, it didn't really matter. She had started for the money, but stayed for the importance. She'd worked her way up from turning tricks outside the local bar to working the best corner in the city: Venue and Marshall.It was the easiest corner to work in town; and she'd only gotten it through the "untimely" deaths of some of her fellow whores. Unfortunately, she was growing weary of just one corner, and had been badmouthing the other girls in hope's they'd quit. Then she'd be able to work any street she wanted. 

As she hit the corner tonight, however, she was not alone. There, standing under the dented street sign, was a ragged man holding a cardboard sign. It was written in dark red, and almost unreadable in the evening light. "Beware the Wrath of God" She scoffed and told him to get off her corner, she had work to do. He smiled at her and walked on to the next block. 

"Yeah, go work Felicia's corner, she'll LOVE that." She thought to herself as she flung her trench coat across her purse. 

It wasn't long before her first client pulled up in a brand new Mercedes. She knew from then it'd be a good night as she climbed into the passanger side.

"How much?" he asked, a rough undertone to his voice.

"250," She smiled that 'but I'm worth it all' smile. He simply nodded and drove to an abandoned lot. 

After the deed was done, the man paid her and dropped her back off at her corner.

Isaiah drove four more blocks before he turned right and pulled off to the side. He saw an ebony enchantress working the streets and called her over. "Hey sweetheart, looking to earn some cash?" He smiled, a charming smile if Adina had ever seen one. With a quick glance around she climbed in the car.

"Ooh honey, a Mercedes--Nice." She smiled and twisted a lock of her faux-blonde hair around her finger. "With a car like this I'm guessing you can afford 300?" With a wink and a nod from Isaiah, they drove off a few blocks and parked behind a local school. 

Adina counted her cash as she walked back to her corner. Three-hundred dollars already, not a bad haul for her second night out. She was glad she had decided for this career, she could charge as much as she wanted to and any man would gladly pay it. She felt she could turn tricks for the rest of her life it meant an income of a thousand a night. As she passed Felica's corner, she chuckled to herself softly. There was an old bum holding a sign. "I feel sorry for that fool when Felicia get's back." She thought to herself as she rounded the corner and took her stoop a few blocks down. 

"WHORE!" A man cried out from the shadows as he grabbed Felicia. She hadn't even had time to scream before he slit her throat in two. Wiping his bloody knife on his pants, he spotted another woman walking down a side street in tight pants and hoop earrings. He screamed a war cry of hatred as he rushed her, jabbing the same knife deep into her spine. A maniacal laugh escaped his mouth as he flung her lifeless body into the nearby bushes.

He killed three more women that night. Why? He hated whores; nothing in the world irritated him more than a woman who'd sell herself for a bit of money. He went home that night with a disgustingly clear concious. He walked into his house and through the darkened living room. His little brother, Zackary, was lounged out across the couch, watching some stupid new cartoon. He sighed and shook his head. The boy hadn't washed in three days, let alone got up for more than the bathroom or refridgerator. 

Zackary mumbled a weak hello to his older brother. He'd wonder where he'd been out so late, but didn't feel like asking. Reaching for another soda, he sighed angrily. The box was empty. "Hey, can someone run and get me some more pop? I'm all out." he hollered behind him. His only response was the clatter of car keys being thrown down the stairs. He grunted angrily and picked them up, there was a ten dollar bill wedged in the keyring. "Right, guess i'll go myself." He mumbled angrily and headed out the door. 

In the nearby liquor store, he couldn't help but notice the bleach blonde woman adjusting a pair of Oakley knock-offs at the sunglasses stand. He set the twelve pack of pop on the counter and watched her as she adjusted the glasses, then her hair, then applied some lipstick before removing the glasses and doing it all over again with another pair. Finally, the cashier came and Zackary left.

"Damn I'm beautiful..." Dana thought to herself as she tried on her third pair of sunglasses. She knew the cashier was getting irritated with her, but she just couldn't make up her mind. "I don't think ANY of these do my beauty justice." She said, angrily jutting the most recent pair back into thier spot. Annoyed, she turned and left the store. Glancing around, she decided to hit the corner store up near fifth street, knowing they were open all night and the cashier wanted her--so she could stay as long as she wanted while deciding on some new shades. Before she could reach it, however, she was pulled into an ally.

Marcus had been watching her for awhile now, she'd go from store to store every few nights, looking for sunglasses or gas-station jewelry. She was beautiful, more beautiful than any woman he'd ever seen. He had to have her, and finally, tonight--he would. 

He pulled her into the alley and smacked her head into the wall, making sure she would be easy to overcome. It worked like a charm, and he ripped those designer imposter panties out from under her miniskirt and slammed her against the wall with his hips so many times he thought he'd killed her. When he was done, he warned her to keep her mouth shut, kissed her, and ran off.

It was 3 A.m., and 'Anastacia' pulled herself up the long flight of stairs into her apartment. She pushed the door open slowly, afraid her boyfriend was already asleep. He was, as she found after showering and crawling into bed with him. She rolled over and kissed him gently. 

"Good night Marcus."

© Copyright 2018 Justin Daugherty. All rights reserved.

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