Haunting-Adeline

I enter into what looks like a foyer with gold led flooring, black walls,
and an obscene chandelier. Gold framed pictures of the founding members
of the gentlemen’s club line the walls.
Or, in other words, a bunch of fucking rapists line the walls.
Men in business suits, smiling at the camera and probably s ll riding the
high from raping a li le girl or boy. They all look the fucking same to me.
I walk down the hallway, the creepy men staring at me from either side
the whole way down, while music with a heavy bass emanates from
somewhere ahead of me.
I’m keeping the earpiece tucked safely away in my jacket un l it’s
needed.
It took five minutes to get in this godforsaken place because Detec ve
Fingers from security wanted to thoroughly inves gate my asscrack. I had
to spend several minutes lecturing him about what would happen if his
fingers brushed up against my asshole one more me.
A er walking down Rapist Alley, I walk into a massive room filled with
couches and poker tables. Men lounge on the couches with women draped
over their laps and shaking their asses or ts in their faces.
At the back of the stage, a woman is currently humping a pole while men
are throwing dollar bills at her. A full bar is off to the le of that, where
several men in business suits sit, drinking glasses of alcohol. Probably fi y-
thousand-dollar Scotch that tastes like ass.
Then again, they probably enjoy that taste since they think their own
farts smell like flowers.
Women in scan ly clad clothing roam the room, delivering drinks, and
pretending to laugh at their lame jokes and—what the fuck?
Ten feet from me, a woman stands at a poker bar holding out her bare
arm while an asshole stubs out his very lit cigar on her skin. My face drops
when I see that asshole is Mark fucking Seinburg.
Goddamn it.
Smoke sizzles from her flesh, but she doesn’t move an inch. In fact, she
doesn’t even flinch.
Anger punches through my chest. I force myself to stay calm as I walk
over to the table, ac ng more interested in the game than I am in the girl.
As I get closer, I no ce she has a blank look on her face, much like the
hostess that greeted me.