Monday, August 9, 2010
A Night With Mr. Right
A dark heart has no conscience, no morals, and no real sense of culpability. – The Book of Tortured Souls
Imagine meeting the man of your dreams. He’s easy on the eyes, yet in a crowd would be difficult to distinguish among others. He attends to your needs and pays special attention to how your friends and family treat you. He’s self sufficient in every way. Could he be the perfect man? Could he be Mr. Right?
The gentleman takes you to dinner and lavishes a fine meal and diamond jewelry. You convince yourself he can afford it; after all, he’s a consultant. You despise he has to travel all the time, but this time he’s taking you with him. Vegas, the destination you heard about will become a reality and you can only imagine what erotic wonders he has in store for you. Could it be the scene he chooses to propose marriage?
You spend a small fortune on negligee designed to showcase your luscious features. You will have him begging for mercy once you’re through with him. You picture the first evening together. After a dinner and a show, you go back to the suite. Once there, he shows you the time of your life.
The moment of truth arrives and you notice his attention span is shorter than normal. He rarely looks you in the eyes when you talk. At dinner he spends time glancing at another table, a couple. You wonder if he’s paying attention to the young floozy or the distinguished gentleman. At last you can’t stand it any longer and blurt out, “Honey, do you know those people?”
For the first time since you’ve known him he seems to change his facial expression to one you’ve never seen before. His lips smile but his eyes remain cold, distant. You debate with yourself about pushing for answers, but something in your gut tells you to drop it.
Almost as if you are with two distinctively different people, your man, the one you recognize takes you back to the suite and falls under your spell. He makes love to you like no one else. The night is going according to plan except something happens. You wake not remembering having fallen asleep. You see his side of the bed empty.
You put on a gown and go outside. The suite directly across from yours has its door ajar. You don’t know why, but curiosity leads you to shove the door open. There you see your perfect man fitting a revolver to a corpse’s hand. You barely recognize him as the man at the restaurant having dinner with the floozy. You spot the woman on the bed, blood on her chest, blank eyes staring at the ceiling.
You gasp and he leaps to you, grabbing your shoulders. You stutter, but somehow find a way to ask, “Why?”
“Don’t worry darling. It’s just business.”
Behold your perfect man. He’s a cold killer with no conscience, no morals, and no sense of culpability. You think he’s going to kill you too, but he surprises you.
“Now that you know what I do. Will you marry me?”
Not the proposal you’d hoped for. Although he doesn’t elaborate, the choice is clear. Deny the assassin and become victim number three or marry the monster and learn to live with a real grim reaper.
If faced with this scenario, what choice would you make?
See you on the dark side.