Just a collection of various stories I began with no intention to finish, or answers to writing prompts. Enjoy! Please visit my author page on FB! Also note, some of these may be removed later if I feel the urge to expand on them!


53. Pure Poison


          Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
          This may be true, but when the beholder is someone like Rita Moldovan, beauty takes a certainly different perspective.
          Rita, with her long raven-colored hair, her almond-shaped eyes, and her skin, which was the color of pale clouds, so fair that many may think she used to be a porcelain doll, was as manipulative as she was beautiful. Every man she encountered became a smoldering puddle of drool as she walked by, and every man she touched was instantly her's.
          Beauty, according to Rita, was not a warm spring day. It was not the feel of the wind as if rushed by, whispering calming words to the ears of those that sought it's calming touch. To her, it was the line of men following her down the streets as she went about her daily chores.
          Rita was a grown woman who had learned the art of men at a very young age. At nine, she was using her large child eyes to milk a few extra candies from the seller outside her mother's house. By fifteen, she was already letting the hormonal teenage boys catch glimpses of her chest for that pretty scarf in the shop window. And by nineteen, she had already slept with enough men to know what excites them to the point of nearly exploding, and then leaving them hanging with a cold shower and not even a glance backward.
          What was really dangerous about Rita, though, was the fact that she was so good, that no matter who warned you about her, she would always trap you. It was inevitable. Nothing could keep a man away.
          Such as it is, an important man took an interest in her - a very important, but very dangerous man. His name was Fernando Jones, and he was the head of a very important, but very dangerous group.
          And he wanted Rita to be his right hand man. Or rather, to be precise, right hand woman.
          And that was the day Rita Moldovan became more than manipulative.
          Rita Moldovan became pure Poison.

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