The Darkest Nights (Tyr and Alleluia Green)

[Alleluia Green]

A police siren sounded in the distance, the sound riding on the summer night wind. Bree reflexively checked for cops, scanning the streets as she leaned against the wall outside the 24-hour diner. She didn't go inside; her last penny had been spent almost thirty-six hours ago, buying a single hot dog that was gone between her hungry lips before she could truly savor the taste. Her cinnamon-colored curls bounced against her young cheeks as she watched night owls pass by on the sidewalk. She was careful to appear casual; if someone guessed she was homeless, they might call the law on her.

Hanging in the shadows, she wiggled her denim sorts further down her hips, hoping to entice just the right kind of man to offer to buy her dinner. Usually, the hint of breast peering above the neckline of her ratty black shirt was enough to get a free milkshake. She was a pretty, young thing, despite the slightly hollow, desperate glint in her green eyes. Normally she kept her plaid overshirt buttoned over her chest to dissuade anyone from getting any funny ideas, but tonight, she was hungry, and counting on it.

"Hey, mister," she called out to a man passing by. She had noticed him looking at her as he neared her. "Wanna buy me a drink?"

 

[Tyr]

John was on the way home, another miserable day of work. The neighborhood probably once was a nice one, but now was deteriorating and rundown. Most of the homes built in the late 40’s and early 50’ had seen better days. He was just walking along, his house not far from the auto dismantler he worked at, a cheap dinner was on the corner, just before he turned down the street leading to his street. The place was a grease pit, though it served a decent cup of coffee if one like coffee, John didn’t. Minding his own business he was surprised when a soft voice got his attention, and requested he purchase her a drink.

Looking up from his hoodie he cast his eyes around to discover who and what was asking. This wouldn’t have been the first time some cheap ass crack whore, offered to go down on him for a fix or some such other bullshit. His deep blue eyes looked out from the gray hood as he found the young thing hovering in the shadows. Always beginning careful his eyes cast around, to make sure this wasn’t some attempt to roll him. Standing just over six foot, he was solid of build and only in as much shape as a hard days work brought someone. There was no one else around, which sometimes wasn’t the case. She looked young, well much younger than his 40 years. Wash her up and she might not be half bad looking, he thought. She seemed to nicely fill out her casual attire, even if all of it seemed to be a bit ragged and worn. Not that he looked hugely better, in his dirty work jeans and steel tipped leather work boots.

I don’t know, what do I get out of buying you a drink?

It wasn’t that he meant to be harsh, but the number of beggars, whores, and the general down and out, he was always getting pestered to help, assist, or aid someone. It wasn’t like he made huge money, but he did have a house, a car, and a bank account, which was far better than the majority of people around here. He didn’t know what the story was, but he was sure, he’d hear it soon enough. His dark hair, shoulder length was tucked inside the hood, his hand coming up to brush it out of his face as he waited to hear the probably prearrange speech the girl was going to give.

 

[Alleluia Green]

Bree bit down on her lip, raking her teeth across it, causing blood to redden her mouth before licking her lips and speaking, "I've come on some bad times. I just ran out of money this morning. I'm so hungry - if you wanted to treat me to dinner, I'd make it...worth your while." She licked her lips again, running a hand under her shirt to expose her belly, rubbing it in circle. "I'm so hungry."

She was used to this arrangement: lots of guys were willing to trade a decent meal for a good suck. She rarely let them past that; usually they were content to squeeze her ass and shoot their loads across her chest or down her throat. Surely, tonight would be no different.

 

[Tyr]

The stories of pitiful despair varied, and most probably had some truth, but no matter they all were meant to illicit assistance and help. Why she was here he didn’t know and really didn’t care. For all he knew she was some trust baby, who was angry at her daddy and ran away hoping to hook up with some boyfriend pledging his undying love or she could be some crack baby now all grown up, whose family abandoned her and let her to survive on her own. None of it mattered, all that mattered was she was alone. Usually he would have given her some pleasantries and moved on, maybe even given her a buck or something, but this time he stopped. She wasn’t a prostitute he was sure, or the conversation would have been different, and yet what she was offering was clear. Looking her over as if she were a piece of meat on the deli counter, he smiled and answered back.

Sure darling, why don’t you come with me, I live just down the way, and we’ll see if we can get you fed.

Fed with what he didn’t say, and there was no way he was taking her into the greasy restaurant then having her taking off leaving him with the bill, and he not getting his dick dipped in something. For whatever reason John wasn’t thinking nice or pleasant thoughts, the world had done nothing for him, except for shit on him, and now he saw a way to have some payback.