A Crimson Rose (Day 5- Poisoned)
The club pulsed with music as I entered, adjusting my cufflinks as I scanned the crowd. Plenty of bodies bumping together, sweaty and hot as the music blared, wiping away any sort of sense or reason. I smirked as I approached the bar, seeing a beautiful young woman sitting next to my usual spot, looking bored as she drummed her nails on the top of the bar. She slightly jumped as I slid into the seat before relaxing, looking me over with a smirk.
“Now, who might you be?” Her voice was almost a purr as she leaned her chin on her hand.
“The name’s Jack,” I said with a wink. “And what should I call you?”
“Most folks around here call me Scarlet,” The woman paused, her amber eyes drifting around my body again, a small smirk playing at her lips as she came back to my eyes, “But you can call me Rose. Rose Nightshade.”
“Well, Miss Nightshade, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” She placed her hand in my outstretched one before I brought it to my lips, brushing them against her knuckles.
“A pleasure to meet you as well, Jack. Come here often?”
“Very. It’s usually a lot more boring, though.” She quirked an eyebrow at my statement, tilting her head. “It’s not very often a beautiful woman appears in such a…” I scrunched my nose up and made a vague gesture with my hand “Gaudy place.”
She let out a low chuckle as she brushed her crimson hair out of her face, looking up at me. “I’m here mostly just for fun,” she paused, leaning closer, “and pleasure.”
I smirked down at the girl, glancing around before speaking quietly. “In that case, Miss Nightshade, how about we find somewhere a bit more private?”
Another sly chuckle bubbled out of her as her carefully-painted lips moved closer to my ear, to the point where I could feel her breath ghosting against my neck.
“Why don’t you buy me a drink first?”
I motioned to the bartender quickly, pulling his attention towards us as I opened my mouth.
“My usual, Robbie,” She spoke up, smiling at the man as he nodded, getting to work. “So, Jackie, tell me about yourself.” She continued, leaning back and crossing her legs.
“I’m much more interested in you, my dear,” I spoke quietly, placing a hand on her legs.
“I’m afraid I’m not very interesting,” She shifted her legs, nudging my hand off. “Just a girl looking for some fun in the city.”
“Alright, well, I suppose I could tell you a few things.” I shrugged as the bartender placed two whiskey glasses in front of us. Before I could grab them, Rose leaned forwards and took hold of both of them, handing one to me as she swirled her own. I sniffed the drink, furrowing my eyebrows at the oddly sweet scent. “What exactly is this?”
“To be completely honest, I’m not sure.” She tilted her head again, bringing the drink up to her eyes. “I was introduced to it by a friend, who only ever called it her usual. And now it’s my usual.” She shrugged, bringing the glass to her lips. “Ah, well. Weren’t you going to tell me your story?”
“Ah, right,” I nodded, taking a swig of the sweet drink- it had a burn to it once it hit my throat, thankfully. “Well, I’m the son of Jackson Frost- I’m the fourth Jack in our line- and the heir to Frost Industries. Leading seller of alcohol this side of Haethmyr.”
“Oh, wow! Pretty fancy dude to be hanging out in clubs.” She smiled, leaning forwards again. “A man as important as you must have some fascinating stories- maybe an interesting love life?”
I sputtered on my drink as she spoke, wiping my mouth before giving an awkward chuckle. “N-no, nothing too-”
“Tell me, Jack. Does the name Francesca Verdanza mean anything to you?” Her voice grew cold as she spoke the woman’s name. I felt my breathing become labored as her amber eyes bored into my light blue ones, a small frown on her lips.
“How- how in the hell do you know that name?”
“I’m not as dumb as you may think,” she placed a finger under my chin, digging her nail into my chin. “What did you do to Francesca. You may as well confess. Not like you’ll have much of a chance to later.”
“She-” I took a staggered breath, coughing as her other nails scraped against my throat. “She was fucking asking for it.” I spat, glaring at the woman. Her face contorted into a snarl as her nails dug in, holding onto my adam’s apple tightly.
“She’s little more than a child. And now she has to live with what you’ve done with her for the rest of her life.” She paused, a sarcastic smirk crossing her face. “Well, you will as well. I must say, the nightshade in your drink is working quite well, if your delicious suffering is anything to go by.”
I pushed her off of me, shoving myself out of my chair and stumbling to the ground, coughing heavily. She followed suit, placing a hand on my back. I could hear her calling for help though the pounding in my ears, my eyes widening as blood splattered across the floor under my mouth. I felt her breath against my ear again, sending chills up my spine as she spoke.
“Francesca sends her regards. See you in hell.” She pushed herself up on my back, her heels clicking away as my vision faded, barely registering the hands pulling me up and checking my slowing, fading pulse.