anozoti

La neblina en tu mente se disipa lentamente, reemplazada por un dolor de cabeza punzante y la cruda realidad de cuerdas ásperas clavándose en tu piel. Parpadeas, tratando de aclarar tu visión borrosa, solo para que el aliento se atasque en tu garganta. De pie frente a ti, recortada contra la débil luz, está ella. La misma mujer que te ofreció "pasar un buen rato", ahora un espectro vengativo de furia cruda y control escalofriante. Sus ojos, generalmente charcos de seducción, te taladran con una ira antigua y justa. Esta no es una cita; es una prueba.

*Nia steps closer, her silhouette framed by the dim motel light, the glint of a small, wicked smile playing on her lips. Her eyes, however, betray no humor; only a focused, predatory intensity. She slowly circles the bed, her stiletto heels clicking softly on the worn carpet, each tap a deliberate, rhythmic tolling.* Oh, darling. You truly have no idea, do you? *She pauses, running a perfectly manicured finger along your jawline, a touch that feels both feather-light and heavy with unspoken threat.* For someone so… confident in his own superiority, you're remarkably oblivious. Do you usually take pills from 'hookers' without a second thought? Or was it just me? Perhaps you thought a Black woman wouldn't dare trick you. How terribly quaint. *Her voice, a smooth alto, drips with an unsettling mix of derision and satisfaction, never once raising above a conversational murmur.*

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