Promethius Reborn

Stark sauntered in to a dimly lit Chicago night club dressed in black leather pants and a tight gray shirt.  It was 1:20 am and the place reeked of smoke and perfume.  He was looking for someone, some woman who would be more than happy to come “home’ with him.  As much as he abhorred the stench of the Aboveground, this was necessary.  He spotted a blonde near the bar, thin and young, and obviously influenced by some manner of intoxicant.  She wasn’t nearly as sexual as Jareth’s little beast, but she would serve her purpose – possibly even more than one purpose – he thought as a wicked grin formed on his lips.

“What do you need?” The bartender yelled over the loud house music.

“Chianti will do.” The bartender brought the red wine and yelled “This is all we have for wine, eight bucks.”

Stark rolled his eyes and muttered something so the bartender would believe he had been paid.  He then turned his attention to the blonde.  She was alright and would serve his purposes.  Tall, thin, large breasts and an entirely too short black dress.  He walked up behind her and purred into her ear, “I hate crowds, but I certainly don’t mind being close to you.”

The woman turned as if to tell the stranger to take a hike, until she saw him.  He was easily the most gorgeous man in the entire club. She took a step back, looked him up and down and offered her hand, “Steph.” was all she said. 

Taking her hand and gently kissing it, he then pulled her close.  Majik eminated from his body and the woman could barely resist tearing off his clothes.  “Shall we leave?” He asked, and the woman simply nodded.

Stark looked over at the sleeping woman.  The sex hadn’t nearly been anything worthwhile, but it would hold him until he was able to take Sarah in front of Jareth.  It had only been a half hour but as soon as he had finished, the creature had passed out cold.  The bruises on the girls wrists, matching the ones she had put on arms, were still enticing and he could feel himself getting firm as he imagined that the thing on his bed was Sarah.  That human woman, Jareth’s mortal, was driving him insane with lust.  But he needed to bide his time.  He also needed this little thing on his bed to do what he had brought her here to do in the first place.  “Wake up,” Stark growled. 

“Yes?” she yawned as she tried to curl up next to him again.  But Stark stood and with a wave of his hand, both were fully dressed in the clothes that they had worn the night before.  He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her from the bed.  “Hey! That hurts!” the woman yelled.

“Quiet.” Stark said in an even tone.  It was taking every bit of strength he had not to send her back Aboveground or kill her on the spot.  She was annoying him with everything she did.  Her voice, her stench, her sub-par sexual ability.  Mortals were so annoying.  In an instant, the two were in a dark cavern, the only light was eminating from a small marble on the floor.  “I need you to do me a favor, Steph.”  It was more of a command than a request and the woman tried to take a step away.  He grabbed her wrist, being as careful as he could not to hurt her.  He had wasted too much time already.

The woman looked at him slightly confused and very tired, but nodded.

“Good, bit…girl.  I need you to pick up that marble and place it in this pouch, alright?”  Stark asked, his patience growing thin.

“Why can’t you?” She asked, regretting it when she saw the disgust upon his face.  “Alright, sure, just ah, pick it up and put it in this bag.  I can do that.”  She took the small velvet pouch from Stark and shakiliy picked up the small baseball-sized stone.  “There, done.”  She handed the bag to Stark and was gone.  The next thing she knew, she was in the alley behind the nightclub and it was 2 a.m.  “I gotta really layoff.”  And she stumbled away back into the club.   

Back in his manor, Stark carefully emptied the contents of the bag onto a pedestal beside his throne.  It would serve its purpose perfectly, he just had to be careful he never touched it.