She pulled on the cigarette slowly and let her eyes wander lazily across the smoky bar. It was a busy night, as would be expected of every Friday night. The live band played one of those songs they always play on the radio in the background. Two girls stumbled on the dance floor in a way that they drunkenly considered to be sexy but was actually quite a sorry sight. Some guys down the bar counter watched the sad debacle before they went to join the girls. She watched them dance for a few minutes before they made their way out of the bar. She smiled sardonically, imagining the shock the girls would be in after seeing the person they wake up to without beer goggles. ‘Big mistake,’ she thought.

She took a sip from the champagne flute she had been nursing for the last thirty minutes. That was the first rule of the game; control. There’s no point to the hunt if your senses are dulled, and she was on the hunt. The little black dress she wore clung to her every curve, ending mid-thigh. ‘Just enough leg and just enough cleavage to get the boys’ attention,’ she thought. Red pumps and blood-red lips were the perfect last touch. Rule number 2: dress to kill. She smiled at the irony of the phrase.

She turned completely from the counter and openly watched them. No point in playing the game too long. It was time to move in for the kill. The moment she capped her eyes on him she knew he was perfect. He was on a table at the other side of the room with a group of friends, she assumed. She saw the moment he noticed her gaze on him. He smiled cockily before taking a swig from his bottle.

She shifted her legs and bit her lower lip invitingly. She winked before taking her coat from the chair beside her and heading for the door. She didn’t have to look behind to know that he was following her. The parking lot was deserted and the only sound was that of her heels against the tarmac and his hurried steps and heavy breathing. They always came.

‘Hey,’ he called out. She turned slowly and waited for him to catch up.

‘Hey,’ she said when he was just a foot away.

The streetlight allowed her to look at him up close. ‘Cute,’ she thought.

She looked at him through her dark lashes and placed her hand on his chest. She slowly pushed him to the dark alley. He complied with the gentle pressure and moved, a lewd smile playing on his lips. She smiled back and he knew something wasn’t right. Her smile was cold. Calculating. He was just about to back out but it happened fast. The flash of silver, the sharp piercing pain to his side.. He didn’t remember falling but soon he was looking at the stars. She loomed over and he was all she saw.

He looked at her properly for the first time. She was gorgeous, sinfully so. He watched helplessly as she leaned forward and placed her lips on his. The kiss of death. She disappeared into the shadows of the night and he wandered if she truly existed. The only proof of that would be the stain of her lipstick on the corpse discovered the next day.