Bloody Foundations

Claude Renault looked at the beautiful woman sitting on the side of the club Vénus Doré’s dance floor. She had that kind of brown hair that was nearly black, but not quite. It hung down her back and shoulders, surrounding her face. Her hair combined with the dark lighting of the club made her pale skin look almost porcelain. She was dressed in a stylish, simple one-piece dress. It was black and showed off her very appealing figure. The dress looped around her neck showing a good deal of her back. It worked quite well for her, and made her inviting to be Claude’s nightly conquest.

He had already picked out one or two other girls from the herd. They would be no trouble, he also had the vague suspicion that he had already been with one of them before. The new girl, with her hands neatly folded in her lap, meant a whole new challenge. Claude didn’t so much care about the sex or anything close to a human emotion. He received his pleasure from the look a woman got when she ‘decided’ she would sleep with him. His cousin had called him a ‘narcissistic bastard.’ She was probably right, but he didn’t really care.

He smiled as he walked up towards the girl who was watching the people dance. Her poise was very formal and ‘old school’ so he decided to go for the gentleman routine. He was about to open his mouth when he saw it. The club was dark, yes, but part of his brain that cried out whenever danger was near made him see it.

A fly was crawling over her eye, not just her face or her eyelid, but her actual eyeball. It was preening its wings as it rested on her pupil. The girl did not blink. She didn’t even notice. Claude turned away and slowly walked towards the dance floor. This woman was creeping him out. It was best to leave for safer, if less attractive, waters. There were always more women out there, no need to chase trouble.

The hand on his shoulder made every cell in his body scream out in fear. It was to his credit that he didn’t yell or scream. He turned around to see the girl looking straight at him with those unblinking eyes. The fly had thankfully moved on.

“Who is that?” She said in a calm voice. It was a pretty voice, but it came out sounding odd to Claude’s ears. Flat and slightly croaky, as if this was the first time she had spoken in ages. It just served to cause Claude to become more and more frightened of the woman. She pointed to a man on the dance floor.

“Him?” Claude asked. He hadn’t been so scared in his life.

“Yes, him.” The girl said. Her grip tightened just a little. “I have traveled far to find him.”

“T-t-that’s…” Claude’s mind went into overdrive as he desperately tried to get a name, miraculously it arrived. “Kyle Mesorsot. I b-believe.”

“Thank you. Leave.” She said as she removed her hand from Claude’s shoulder and proceeded toward the dance floor.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He sprinted for the door as fast as he could. After exiting the club and getting to the other side of the street, he finally thought to gasp for air. He debated with himself on calling the police. Call them for what? A strange girl with no nerves in her eyes and a slightly croaky voice? He would wait for the screams that would surely be coming, and then call the police.

He waited, nothing happened. There were no screams, no sound of gunfire, no things breaking, or any sound of conflict at all. Just the normal street sounds of a quiet Parisian evening. Claude began to feel stupid, the girl was probably just interested in Kyle and asked to dance. He had got all worked up for nothing. He walked back across the street to re-enter the club. He had his hand on the door when he realized it. It was silent inside. There was no overly loud music coming from within, just…silence. It wasn’t just as if the music had stopped either, he heard no voices, no machinery, not even anyone breathing, nothing. It was like there was nothing in that club but dead space. Claude then began to notice a smell in the air, faint and coppery. The color red invaded his mind to accompany the smell, to remind him what could be the source of that odor.

Claude’s concept of fear and self-preservation returned tenfold as he turned and ran. He did not stop until he reached his apartment. He spent that evening alone, comforted by the overpowering sound of his racing heart, beating in his ears.