“Nice name. Appropriate.” “Yes it is.” Again, she shot me that small inscrutable smile. I asked her, “Would you like to move to a table? It�...�s quieter.” She sighed and acted annoyed, but half-heartedly said yes, and as she slipped off the barstool she let her dress catch on the edge so that it slid up to reveal the tops of her thigh highs. I caught her stealing a look at me, to see if I had noticed. We got a table in the corner. We made small talk. She had an elaborate fictional history of Joy’s. Her skirt so short. It licked its lips seeing her cleavage, going mad over her large lips. With a look of pure terror she sat and gawked at the creature before her.It's greyish skin, stiff, the smell of burning flesh and an almost brimstone smell permeating the air. However this creatures flesh was not burnt, instead it seemed to glisten. Its fiery orbs was the only thing she was able to make out perfectly clear. otherwise it was a black silhouette holding a pickaxe.She turned around starting. More

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