Bait

This time I have not wavered from my quest. I realised every moment I wasted in thinking about what to do, I could actually be doing something, and getting one step closer to my goal. I am breaking the whole quest up into steps now, rather than letting myself examine the enormity and importance of it all. It's too overwhelming that way. Steps are much easier. That way each little bit feels like an achievement.

 

When I last wrote, I spoke of enticing the Guardian Angel, of leading him to me. The way was clear. That didn't make it any easier. I thought about when he'd first appeared in my life. It was when Harry and I were about to make love. I don't think that was a coincidence. I think making love is the gateway to my new life. I think if Harry and I had made love, that's when my future would have been decided. If, in fact, Harry was "the one," the moment we made love would have been when my moment of transformation would have happened. I'm sure of it. And so was my Guardian Angel. That's when he appeared at that moment. It all makes perfect sense. Perhaps it's because making love is a way of giving one's body and soul over to someone else, trusting them completely. I am not sure of the fine details, but that's the link.

 

Having reached this conclusion, I did the very thing many single humans do on a Friday night. I went out with the intention of getting "laid." I believe that is the expression used.

 

So I got dressed into something suitably sexy. I even wore make-up. I wasn't sure where people hung out (my usual place tending to be the dark alleys of the town, looking for innocent victims), so I wandered, trying to look as though I knew where I was going. After discreetly following a group of girls, I saw where the crowds were headed. I stopped outside a place called Fallen Angels. Ironic or what? I hesitated, and wondered if this was another set up. Then I told myself off.

 

Everyone is here, all the humans. This isn't all for my benefit. It's a bona fide club. Stop messing around.

 

I shook the feeling off and headed in. After a few short moments I understood the phrase I seen on the Internet – cattle market. The place was packed to the rafters with sweaty bodies. Young girls gyrated on the dance floor in next to nothing. Men stood around the edge of the floor eyeing them hungrily. I now understood the difference between looking for a life partner and looking for someone for the evening. This was all about sex, and nothing about personalities and conversation. I thanked my lucky stars I'd met Harry, albeit for a short time. Finding that place before meeting him would have given me totally the wrong idea.

 

There must be some attraction though. The place was rammed, and everyone looked happy, and as though they were having a good time. I decided to join them. I went to the bar and got myself a drink.

 

Half an hour or so later, I'd explored the place fully and had settled myself into a corner, leaning as casually against the wall as I could. I watched the writhing bodies, which began to sway more than writhe as the evening went on, the alcohol affecting their balance. I couldn't understand this human pastime. Why would they want to visit a place like this, buy overpriced drinks which made them look simply ridiculous when they become inebriated? They stagger around with no grace or decorum. Why on earth do men find these women attractive?

 

This too, became clear in time. It made them unaware of what was happening. Men were taking advantage. From my vantage spot in the corner, I saw men touching women inappropriately as they danced. I felt sure these women would not allow that if they were sober, in the cold light of day. They were being taken advantage of.

 

That's when my plan came to me. The easiest way for me to achieve the evening's goal would be to do something similar with a man. I'm not too shoddy-looking, I'm sure I could attract a man who wasn't up to the eyeballs in booze, but if he was drunk, it would be so much easier. For example, whatever may happen once I got him alone could easily be passed off as a drunken hallucination, or hopefully forgotten altogether in the alcohol-induced amnesia.

 

So I left my spot in the corner and headed for the dance floor. Having studied the floor for long enough that evening, I began to dance and sway, much like the other occupants of the space. I felt incredibly silly, and out of place, but reminded myself that needs must. Soon I attracted attention. A man sidled over to me, swaying slightly.

 

"What ya doing on yer'own in a place like this?" He yelled over the thumping music.

 

"Looking for some fun." I shot back, grinning in what I hoped was a flirty way. Those dating classes sure did come in handy.

 

"Fun eh? Fancy another drink?"

 

I studied him. He was alright. Not what I'd particularly choose for myself, but he'd do. I might not even have to go through with it. Hopefully that bastard would turn up before anything happened. Either that or lurk in the shadows until it was all over and then come and laugh in my face. God I hated him. I consoled myself with the fact that one day I would kill him. But I'd make him suffer first.

 

"Actually," I said, wafting my face with my hand, "I'm a bit hot. I think I've had enough. I might head outside for a bit. Can I catch you later?"

 

"Don't be daft, you can't go outside alone. It's not safe, you don't know what kind of weirdos are out there." I suppressed a giggle. "I'll come with you. I could do with cooling down myself."

 

"OK, let's go."

 

We headed outside where it was indeed cooler. He swayed slightly as we wandered across the street and sat down on the kerb. I realised I didn't even know his name. I enquired. Tim. Nice ordinary name.

 

We made small talk. I politely answered his questions about myself, and asked him about himself, not even mentally storing the answers. This wasn't about finding a soulmate. This was about avenging the death of the one I'd already found.

 

Soon, though, I got bored. And I pounced. No, not like that! I kissed him, roughly. I figured that if everything we did was different to how I'd done it with Harry, then I wouldn't associate the experiences, and I'd somehow get through it. So the way I kissed Tim had none of the gentle intimacy that I'd shared with Harry. I detached myself from the experience as best I could.

 

To use a worn out cliché, one thing led to another and Tim suggested going somewhere more private. Obviously my place was out, and he didn't mention going to his, so somewhere outside was on the cards. Perfect. We made our way to the park. I ignored the shudder than ran up my spine as I thought about past events and we stumbled arm in arm towards a bench.

 

Seconds later Tim had unzipped the fly of his jeans and pulled his penis from the confines of his underwear. I was grateful for the darkness as I rolled my eyes. So he wanted oral sex did he? I was sure he wouldn't have been so eager had he known I'd have preferred to bite it and suck his blood rather than pleasure him. I repeated my mantra – needs must – in my head. I closed my eyes and lowered myself to the ground between his knees.