Inciting the tall, dark stranger to draw his weapon and slip into the dark corridor holding his mini-Maglite. The floor was slippery with some kind of slime. As slippery as snail sex. He lost his balance and slipped and fell, dropping his gun and the flash light which was still lit. On his hands and knees, he crawled toward the light, which was lying on the floor, illuminating the wall.

Then his hand touched something furry. Picking up the flashlight and shining it down, the furry thing was a very large dead rat, with body fluids oozing across the floor. The smell was as nauseating as garbage can juice.

He found an old towel and was able to wipe himself up, at least passably, for now. He heard the woman’s scream again, so picking up his gun, he moved quickly towards the end of the corridor, where there was another door, with light shining through the crack at the floor. He cautiously approached and slowly opened the door.

There she was, the sexy, sultry woman, both hands tied to a bed post. Her blouse and skirt were torn. She was sweating like a blacksmith at a forge, and there was blood. Standing over her was the weirdo who was stalking her, holding a large blade.

The tall, dark stranger shouted,
”Put your hands up and move away slowly or I’ll shoot. I’m gonna count to 3, one, two…. CLICK.”

The stalker just laughed.

And then the stranger said,
“I know what you’re thinking: ‘Is this gun even loaded?’”
“Well since this is one of the most powerful handguns in the world, and would blow your head clean off, so you’ve got to ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’,

Well, do ya, punk?”

The weirdo gives up and asks,
“Hey! I gots to know!”

The stranger aimed his Glock and fired, blowing the weirdo’s  body across the room faster that a politician who’s asked to keep a promise, and then said,
“Son of a bitch!”

The stranger pulled out his switchblade and cut away the cable ties from the woman’s hands. Then she put her arms around him and whispered,
“Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time!”

And he replied,
“I never make plans that far ahead.”

“And it’s about time. I thought I hired you to look after me?”

“I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of two little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.”

Then he walked over to the bar where there was a bottle of whisky. He poured himself a glass. And then she said, in a sexy Lauren Bacall voice,
“Why don’t you just shut up and pour me a drink.”

[Quotations (sometimes slightly modified) from Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Ingrid Bergman and Dirty Harry (Clint Eastwood)]

other stories of the Dark Stranger; An Uneasy Rendez-vous , The Encounter ,  The Dark Stranger

***

The Stalker