Impurities

The club is full of young people. They love the atmosphere, thick with youth and blue and green fairy lights; the smell of alcohol lingering in the air permeates through flesh and blood. An antifragile force. A crimson light. A wonderful experience. In the crowd, a pair of eyes gleamed with malice, hunger, and appetite. Right now, the man was a wolf. In the hierarchy, he is the alpha, "the son of the night." Among the others, he is the pack leader—the one everyone respects, fears, or both, depending on which is scarier. But who is his prey? It was a youthful boy with blue eyes. A true Aquarius, perhaps? Who knows? Maybe just enough to attract someone with bad intentions. But he didn't know that. He was still joking around with his close friends, drinking cheap alcohol, and checking on girls while sipping a Mojito—that's what he likes. The boy smiled through the glass. He had plenty of time to have fun. He is fresh out of high school and wants to put his boring, nerdy past behind him. He's not fond of drinking. To be completely honest, this is disgusting. What was inside this glass? Is it blood? Or is it some toxic wastewater that comes out of the factory? He laughs at his silly joke.  Little did he know that the man had snuck through the crowd and stood quietly near him - just a few feet away. He's been keeping an eye on him for a long time. His breath smells like mint and is dangerous. His looks roamed all over his body in hunger, l**t and desire.  Suddenly, the naughty hand grabbed the boy's hip. He groaned softly but quickly became angry. "What's wrong, mate?" The boy knit his brows, glaring at the man.  The man said nothing. His friends looked at him like a p*****t. They wouldn't be surprised if they met a drunk guy here. But that hip touch was clearly s****l harassment. "What's wrong with you? Get off of me". The young man said in an angry tone.  Taking advantage of the drunken youths who were rushing towards them, the man disappeared into the crowd. "That's weird." A girl among the young man's friends commented in a nervous tone. "Are you OK?" "I'm fine!" The young man said. He took a sip of the Mojito. His mouth was dry. He needed something cold. His friend gives him an open can of cool hard seltzer and makes jokes to calm him down. They each took a swig out of their seltzer and poured in a shot of vodka. Then they shot the liquor in their mouths with euphoria, as if the harassment had never happened. Young people are easy to forget. After a few drinks, he could forget all the bad things that had just happened. He went to the bathroom once or twice, in a restroom for both sexes. The bathroom has an unpleasant lemon smell. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and had to run out of the bar to vomit. The hallway smelled of garbage, which made him even more nauseous. Minutes passed before he got a feel for the surface of the air. They poured bleach down the pipes. So the damp and sticky smell hit his nose as if he'd just been smashed in the face with a basketball bat. Then he suddenly felt uncomfortable. The horrendous sense of human instinct, fear of the dark and creatures with venom and fangs. The impulses of hunters and gatherers are not really at the top of the chain; predators and carnivores. Blood and bones, wrinkles in the dark. Spiders and snakes threaten people's safety, causing them to feel afraid of things that require courage. The blackness of danger made him want to get out of this place. Now, iridescent sweat clung to him like a wet towel. And the devil's performance forced him to lose his beauty. He'll be fine if he's done vomiting and the stomach rumbling stops tormenting him. He kicked the can next to him and didn't know what he had just done. He was too drunk to think about the blood on his hand caused by the can when he kicked it. A low and cold growl sent a chill down his spine. There was no familiar sound. The full moon shone above his head with the stars glittering strangely. He had never seen it so bright, especially when light pollution hit the city.  But no one cares. Life goes on. People want to prolong so much that they don't even know what night is. The smell of alcohol wafted around his head, slapping his head like a drum. He struggled to stay stable, standing on one leg like a ballet dancer. Maybe he was really drunk. Unexpectedly, he bumped into something. Something cool but soft. It took him a while to realize it was a man. That's the guy who harassed him in the bar. "Got lost, boy?" "Let me go." He tried to push the man away. "Why are you in such a hurry?" "What do you want?". The young man mumbled in anger. For a moment, he really wanted to punch him in the face. "Oh no, just a little bit of your time!" The man shoved him hard against the wall. He couldn't scream. The streetlight reflected in the puddle showed him being picked up by the man with one hand, as if he were Hercules. He wanted to fight, but his body wouldn't allow it. The man was so aggressive and cruel, squeezing his body so much that his arms turned crimson red. Until his friends suddenly realized he was gone, the man knocked him out and took him back to his den on Lingersin Street. No one cared. They couldn't see him as he carried the poor young man on the roof and through the door hidden in the floor.  The smell of rotten garbage was the only thing he remembered before he passed out. At that time, he believed he was going to die.