The Perfect Drug

Zydrate comes in a little glass vial, but that wasn't what I was looking for. As I walked down the seedy alley with my head lowered and eyes fixed firmly to the ground, I was afraid he wouldn't show up. Which was a ridiculous thought- he always showed up. The junkies needed Z and he needed the cash. I wasn't a junkie. At least, I wasn't a junkie for Z. I was a junkie for the Graverobber. He was the perfect drug, though the Z junkies might say otherwise.

I had never actually talked to Graverobber before. I never made a deal with him. But I wanted to. I watched him. I watched him gather his product. I watched him sell it. I watched Amber Sweet sell herself to him for Z. And he knew. He knew I watched him, but he never said anything to me. Tonight was the night where I said something to him.

It's odd to think I was addicted to man I've never had formal contact with, but I was. My soul attached itself to him, and it wouldn't let go. I tried to resist, but the Graverobber beckoned me- I needed to talk to him, to be a part of his life. No matter what it took.

I arrived at the area where I knew Graverobber would show up. The junkies were already trickling in, waiting for their shot. I looked around and found a empty corridor with a few stairs. I walked over, sat, and waited. As I toyed around with a few neon-green dreads in my hair, I surveyed the needy junkies. They were all the same- mostly women, very few men. The women looked like they were in all stages of distress, but that's why they were junkies, isn't it? To escape the pain of surgery and the pains of their real lives. Makes me wonder how much of Z is actually used for surgery pain relief and how much is just addiction to the feeling. I'd bet my money on addiction to the feeling, but I didn't have much money to spare.

Me? I didn't have many surgeries done. My organs didn't fail like many others and I'm not one for vanity. Yeah, the organ financing was a great idea from Geneco and Rotti Largo, but even with the organ financing, I couldn't afford much. However, I wasn't totally free from the surgery craze. I got a smaller stomach. I was always overweight as a child, and the smaller stomach helped with my various diets. I also changed the color of my irises. From a dark brown to a dark, almost black, purple. The stomach cost me a pretty penny, but I had paid off all my debts before Largo employed his feared Repo Men. Of course, I needed Zydrate after the operations, but I paid for that legally. When I had those operations, I wasn't ready to come face-to-face with Graverobber, but I was still fully aware of who he was.

His voice snapped me out of my reverie and sent a shiver down my spine.

"Come and get it, chickies," Graverobber taunted his customers, coming into my line of sight. He knew that no matter what he said to them or how he treated them, they would always come back for more.

The sight of him did more to me than just his voice did. He always looked perfectly imperfect, which is probably why many women were attracted to him. Just a suggestive glance or devilish smile could send a woman reeling into fits of lust. I was no exception.

A collective gasp passed through the junkies as they swarmed about him. You could almost hear their mouths watering for a shot of Z. I stayed where I was. I didn't want to draw attention to myself early, I wanted to wait until it was just me and him- if I was that lucky.
One by one, the junkies paid him and got their shot. One high-roller junkie had enough money to buy a whole vial. Graverobber looked pleased at the fast money. Who wouldn't be? He had enough vials for everyone there plus a few extra. It was a good night for him. After another fifteen minutes, there were only three junkies left. I stood up and brushed myself off, fixing my mid-thigh skirt, making sure it wasn't exposing too much too soon. The fishnet stockings wouldn't help keep my modesty, so I had to, literally, cover my ass before anyone happened to see more of me than I intended.

The last junkie stumbled off, and that's when I walked closer and closer to him until I was no more than four feet away. He didn't seem to really notice me at first, but he slowly looked up, starting at the toes of my strappy knee-length boots, pausing for a moment at the slight glimpse of my cleavage, going up to the mop of thin dreads that was my hair, and then going back down to my dark purple eyes. I tried not to melt or to run away as his beautiful eyes seemed to bore into my soul.

"You're not a junkie," he stated.
"I'm not," I replied.
"You've been watching me."
I tried not to blush, but the warm blood rushed to my face despite my willfulness. "I have."
He clicked his tongue.
"I've been watching you, too."
"You've been watching me watch you."
He gave a knowing half-smile. "Nothing passes through this city that I don't already know about. I've seen a lot more of you than you've seen of me."
I shuddered at the thought and kept quiet, backing away from him a few feet.
He didn't appreciate the gap I had made and took a stride towards me.
"Why have you been watching me?" He asked, leaning into me so that his face was a few inches away from mine. I could feel his hot breathe on my clammy skin. It was unnerving and provocative at the same time.
Trying not to shy away, I answered as truthfully as I could.

"I want you."

He laughed right in my face.
"What makes you think I want you?"
I lowered my eyes to the ground, ashamed and embarrassed. I didn't think he would say something like that, but I probably should have known. He put his hand under my chin and brought my face up so that my eyes were looking into his. I was tall for a girl and Graverobber was only four inches taller than me, but in the position he had me in, I felt like I was three feet tall and he was a giant.
"Why do you want me?" He whispered.
I struggled to find my voice. "I just...do."
He sneered. "That's not good enough."
Graverobber let go of my face and pushed me to the ground. I landed with a thud. The right side of my body and my hands stung from the cuts and scrapes I got from hitting the ground hard. The fishnet stockings I had on were ripped in a few places and some pebbles on the filthy ground were embedded into my skin. My embarrassment intensified as I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. A few rogue tears slipped and streaked my makeup.

He kneeled down right next to me and put a hand on my thigh. His heavy boots were so close to my body, I thought he was going to kick me.
"Maybe," he growled, "it is good enough. I like you in this position."

Graverobber moved me so that I was on my back. He hungrily pulled down my stockings and panties and flipped over my skirt. I was exposed. He laid down on top of me, the weight of him straining my breathing. I wanted this. I wanted him to use me.

He used me.

--

When he was finished, he stood up and smiled at me.
"Not bad." He said.
I pulled my knees close to my chest so that I was laying in fetal position with my back facing him. My heart was beating fast.
"Come back tomorrow. Same time same place." He paused for a moment. "You got what you wanted after all." I heard the sounds of his boots clunking as he walked away whistling an old Blind Mag tune. The farther away he got, the more distant the sound of his boots and his whistling became. When I could no longer hear either, I carefully stood up and tried to steady myself against a wall. My stockings and panties were tangled around my ankles, I pulled them up and looked around to see if anyone else was there. It was just me.

I walked away, yearning to be home and warm in my bed. I would be there soon, I thought to myself. I walked until I reached the end of the dingy alley and the side of a brightly lit street. Looking behind me, I thought about the events of the last hour. I smiled.

I did get exactly what I wanted.