Relato Corto Blog Fiction

Another Night

A

Opening his eyes—finding himself in a city away from home—Paul remembered what led him here, the tragic events that changed his life. Over and over again he asked himself. Why did it have to be like that?

An appropriate amount of time had passed since the incident, he had to continue with his life. Paul got out of a bed that didn’t belong to him—it has been only five days since he moved there. Of course, after studying the neighborhood.

Paul couldn’t risk using his credit cards, and getting cash was even harder. The residents of the house—a man and a young woman—had to ask permission from their jobs with a gun to their heads. Paul tied them up and blindfolded them after invading their home.

After all this time, the heat on him must have subsided. In any case, he could no longer stay with his new companions.

Once Paul finally got up, he took a quick shower and found a pair of jeans that would look good with his leather jacket. Then, he walked to one of the other rooms of he house

“Wet dog,” he said upon finding the man tied up on a bed, “thank you for letting me stay in your place.”

The man with his arms and legs tied moved, trying to untie himself.

“Easy,” Paul said, holding up a hand. “You don’t need to get sentimental.”

The owner of the house continued fighting with the rope, but even if he tried the blindfolds didn’t allow him to see the bandit leave the room.

With that, Paul walked down the stairs to the living room.

“Candy…” he said, approaching the sofa where the hostess laid tied. “I’m very sorry but this will be goodbye.”

Paul continued into the garage, and activated the control to open the door. Then, he took their cell phones and called 911, and left them on top of the washing machine.

After checking there was no one around, Paul started his motorcycle and left the scene. There was no way they could recognize him, and yet it was time to find a new place to spend the night.

Paul didn’t leave a trace for the police—although, with the charges against him—a burglary was of no consequence. Now, the only thing that mattered was finding a new hiding place for a couple of days.

I could find one in a nightclub, he thought, driving his motorcycle.

It took him little time to reach a suitable den, he left his helmet secured over the seat, and headed for the entrance of the place.

The Fifth Moon was a bit more elegant than he expected, but it wouldn’t be difficult for him to sneak into the front door. A disorganized crowd surrounded the main entrance, which was led by lights and colors. Paul took off his black leather jacket, revealing his muscular body under a short-sleeved shirt—his beautiful hair and well-maintained beard made him stand out from the crowd.

“Hey you,” said one of the security guards.

Paul walked through the crowd until he reached the security chain and was allowed to pass. This situation wasn’t strange, he was accustomed to receive special treatment.

“Are you alone?” asked the guard.

Paul nodded.

“Follow me,” he said.

Paul had to wait standing next to the main entrance. That was part of the marketing strategy of that particular club, and Paul already knew the procedure.

Finally, when he was invited to enter, he met a woman in a short dress. She personally checked if Paul wasn’t carrying weapons. “He’s fine,” she said when done.

Paul held his jacked with one hand while keeping his arms extended to his sides. Then he walked towards the receptionist.

“May I have your ID?” asked the girl.

Paul took a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet. “Just open a card with this balance.”

“I can do that.”

Paul waited patiently for his card and then entered the dance floor. The place was packed, and he needed a distraction, so he went straight to the bar—taking in everything he saw around him. He asked for a glass of some liquor on the rocks and continued walking.

Among all the people, he had to look for a girl with particular attributes. She had to be old enough to live alone, had the experience to let a stranger into her house, and naivety enough to trust a pretty smile.

Once he found her, he noticed she was with a small group of friends, and without considering it twice he approached the bar where they were standing—just passing by the woman. Letting himself be seen. Paul slowly turned after grabbing a napkin, facing the woman he’s been looking for, and smiled. Slowly, he continued moving away from her and stopped to turn towards her.

Alex—the woman in the gray dress—lowered her gaze when she noticed he was looking at her.

Paul smiled and gently touched her chin, having her look up until they saw each other. “You are the most beautiful woman in this place,” he said close to her ear. “Would you like to dance?”

Alex lowered his gaze and reached his hand.

On the dance floor, Paul continued staring at her—wanting her. Trying to hide how much he enjoyed watching her dance, looking into her eyes.

They smiled and looked at each other for a couple of songs. Paul wouldn’t stop staring at her with desire—until she looked into his eyes a little longer than normal. He took the opportunity and approached slowly, taking her neck by the back. Alex opened her eyes, trying to stop what was about to happen, and closed them when she felt the stranger’s lips on hers.

The kiss was simple, an instant that seemed to last for hours. With their bodies pressed against each other. Paul walked away, meeting the woman’s eyes with his. “Shall we get out of here?”

And so Paul got a place to spend the next few days.

About the author

Sebastián Iturralde

Writer of enigmatic tales, weaving captivating narratives that provoke thought and stir the imagination. Unveiling the depths of human experience through words.

14 comments

Relato Corto Blog Fiction

About Author

Sebastián Iturralde

Writer of enigmatic tales, weaving captivating narratives that provoke thought and stir the imagination. Unveiling the depths of human experience through words.