CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT
By: Veronica Leigh Marquette
Lightly proofread and edited by Streph.
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Same warning as with any of my work. If you aren't at least 18/21, or live
in an area that the laws prohibt this kind of material. Stop now.
CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT
Prologue
He was there again, the strange, man. He never spoke other than to order
food. He always went out of his way, or so it seemed to Kris, to be sure he
sat in her station at the all night diner she worked in.
He gave her the creeps. It wasn't just that no matter how much he ate,
he never seemed to gain so much as an ounce, or that his voice, when he did
speak, was never louder than a whisper. It was his eyes. The watched her,
always watching. Almost as if he was watching something that he owned. Like
she was his, either property or meal. She didn't know which, but it really
didn't matter, he scared her. She had complained to her boss more than once
about him. But Bobby just patted her on the arm, asked if he had said or
done anything to her. When she had to admit that, 'no', if anything, he was
one of her most polite, and best tipping, customers. He would just give her
a strange look and tell her 'that this was a place of business, and anyone
who wanted to eat here, as long as they weren't breaking the law, could'.
"Can I get you anything else sir?" She stood by his table, trying hard
not to make it obvious that she was going out of her way not to stand close
to him.
"No, my dear, I do believe that you have seen to all my needs, as you
always do." The soft, almost compelling voice as he looked up at her, a
small smile playing on his lips. "So tell me, child, what is my tab this
evening." A light, touch, on her arm, almost caressing it.
Kris jerked back, pulling the meal ticket from her pad, and almost threw
it on the table before him. "When you are ready, I'll see you at the counter
sir." She all but ran from him. He was becoming more and more almost
possessive. She hated when he touched her, and he seemed to take such
pleasure out of doing just that. Every chance he got, oh he would never do
anything more than touch her arm, and it was never done in a threatening
fashion. But his hand was always so cold, the feeling of his skin against
hers, it always sent shivers down her spine.
"That's it." She muttered as she came around the corner. "That," she
stopped, trying to remind herself that she was at work, and profanity, in a
waitress, was frowned upon. "That 'freak of nature', touches me just one
more time, and I'll put him in the hospital."
Robert Duncan, Bobby, to everyone but the IRS, looked up from the grill.
"He giving you problems again, girlfriend?"
"No, or not any problem that you would consider a problem. He pays his
bill, doesn't make a scene, so what's the problem." She slammed dishes into
the washer, so mad she almost broke a plate.
"I hate to say this Kris, but I'm glad he keeps sitting in what ever
station you have. He gives me the creeps." Another waitress muttered under
her breath, looking at the man.
"Thanks Becky. I am glad that I'm not the only one in this place that
has any sense." Kris muttered; trying to put on a smile as the man in
question stood and came to the register. Well, at least he would be leaving
now. What a really lousy way to end an otherwise really good shift.
Bobby wiped his hands on the apron he wore as he stepped up to the
register to confront the man. "Your meal okay?" He tried to see what it was
that had his girls so spooked about this man. But he didn't see anything out
of the ordinary. Yes, the chap did look just a bit odd, but he was no fool.
He might look young. With his dark gray eyes and boyish looks, and he might,
even, be considered young by some. But , but he was no fool. He might look
young, with his dark gray eyes and boyish looks, and he might be young. But
he was much more quicker than most gave him credit for being. But he didn't
see anything out of the ordinary, but he just didn't see it. Kris had been
working for him for almost five years, after all the drunks and dopers that
she had dealt with, this odd bird, shouldn't have caused her to even bat an
eye.
"As always. Your help here is as good as the food." Again he reached
out to touch Kris's arm. Only to be brought up short by a, firm, hand on his
arm. "Excuse me?" The man looked from the hand that was on his arm to the
man that it belonged to.
"I have a pretty good idea what you want. But my girls doesn't go for
that sort of thing." Was all that the owner would say.
The man pulled his arm away from Bobby's grip. "You think you 'do', you
don't say." He pulled back, with a sneer on his face. "I was only going to
thank the girl for another pleasant evening, and fine service." He pulled
out his wallet. "Lucky for her, I do not hold her responsible for your
actions, for if I did, then she would not get the tip I am planning to leave
her." A bill was taken from his wallet. "This is yours girl, I was only
going to get your attention to see you got it. I do not trust those in this
establishment to just leave it on the table." He pressed the bill into
Kris's hand. Looking insulted at Bobby. "But I have obviously over stayed
me welcome here, haven't I?" Another bill with the check was presented to
her. "Keep the change. I am afraid that I have no reason to visit here
again." He looked at Bobby, a cold glint to his eyes. "I haven't a clue,
what you think of me, nor do I care, but I will not be insulted, not by
something so lowly as a," the tone was so insulting that it was just short of
an insult. "'Short order cook'." And he turned to leave. Stopping at the
door. "Take a good look at your tip, my dear, and then to the man that saw
to it that there would be no more like it." And he stormed out.
Kris rang up his ticket, pocketed the change before looking down at the
bill he had pressed into her hand. "Holy shit," she swore, forgetting that
it was not polite to swear in her profession. She just looked down at the
bill in her hand. He had given her a, five hundred-dollar, tip. "There is
just no way." She held the money to Bobby. "There is no way this can be
real."
"Damn," he whistled softly, taking the bill. "If it ain't then I should
have done more than just stopped him from touching you again, I should have
beat the crap out of him, and if it is, I'm real sorry Kris." He looked the
bill to the back of the diner, checking the water mark, paper, printing, the
ink, anything that might prove it to be a fake, even going so far as to call
in the serial number but it all was correct. As far as he could tell, and he
had seen quite a bit of, funny money, in the ten years he had owned his
diner, it was real. "I'm really, really sorry Kris. It would appear that
this bill is the genuine article." He handed the money back to her. "I
always figured him to be sweet on you, that was why he was always such a good
tipper, but damn." He shook his head. "Sorry for running him off, if he was
this sweet on you, I should have stayed out of it. Sorry girlfriend, but I
do think I just ran off the worlds best customer."
Kris just pocketed the money, along with the rest of her tips. "Don't be
Bobby, I'd give up this kind of money, any day, just to get to see the look
on his face when you accused him of trying to move in on one of your
'girls'." She laughed shaking her head. "At least I don't have to put up
with him pawing at me anymore. I don't know what he thought I was, or maybe
I do, but I am glad he won't be in here anymore."
* * *
The last half-hour of her shift ran as smooth as clockwork. No more
problems, even, the usual rowdiness that Bobby's diner was known for on
Friday nights, wasn't present. It was almost like with the running off of
that 'freak of nature' as Kris was apt to call the strange man, everything
just fell into a quiet space.
"See you tomorrow girlfriend." Bobby joked, smiling at her as she
grabbed her coat, and was heading for the door. "I really do wish you would
wait a minute or two, though. Alex will be here soon enough, just as soon as
he gets off from work. I would feel a whole lot better if you let him walk
you to your car. That's a lot of money you got on you tonight." He tried
not to mother her, but this was not the world's best neighborhood, and on top
of that five-hundred dollars that the 'strange old bird' had given her, she
also had cleared almost another hundred and twenty bucks. All in all, it had
been a very good night for her.
Kris just laughed at him. "You have got to be kidding me. Alex? Bobby
he's a sweet guy and all, and as far as I'm concerned, the best you could
have hooked up with, but let's be real for a few minutes here, shall we? If
I was mugged, just exactly what do you think that boy of yours could do.
Even I can beat him up, without trying." She just shook her head as she
pushed her way out the door. "Wait on Alex, I can't believe he said, 'wait
on Alex'." She just chuckled to herself as she headed across the parking lot
for where the hired help parked.
* * *
Her good mood lasted only long enough for her to get to her car.
"'Fuck'," she looked at the busted window and slashed tires, all four. There
was no way she was going to be able to go anywhere in it tonight. Well maybe
the extra money she had now would come in handy after all. Buying new tires,
and a new windshield. Not exactly what she had planned on using it for, but
reality bites sometimes. There was no help for it. She would have to go
back in and wait for Bobby's 'oh so precious' Alex, maybe she could get him
to give her a lift home.
She never saw what hit her. One moment she was trudging back to the
diner, muttering under her breath about the only luck she really had was bad,
the next, the asphalt came up hard and fast as she was struck from behind.
End of Prologue
