Alistair stopped, cupping her face in his hands. "Are you sure about this? You will never be the same again, there is no going back from this."
"You make it sound like I'm signing a contract with the devil." Frankie laughed.
"Try not to." Alistair smiled.
With that he took out a curved knife about six inches long from the small of his back. It had strange markings etched into the steel that Frankie had never seen before. Then in one quick slice he drew the knife over his palm. Returning the knife to its holder he took Frankie's hand before she had a chance to run and placed the bleeding hand on the rock face.
Everything around Frankie shimmered and she felt like the earth had given way underneath her feet. Just as she thought the contents of their early evening dinner would re-visit her she felt Alistair's cool hand on her arm and the world had stopped spinning.
"The first time is always the hardest, you'll get used to it" he whispered in her ear.
Frankie looked up and they were in a club like she had never seen before. Alistair was slipping her shrug off her shoulders but she barely noticed. The ambiance was dark and opulent, it took her a moment to adjust from the light levels outside. The decor was a black...no wait deep reds, all different shades of red in fact some so deep they looked black and chandeliers hung every everywhere. Except, was that real flame in the wall sconces? Frankie took a moment to take it all in, trying to remind herself to pull her chin up and not gape!
"Welcome to The Hellfire Club, Fais ce que tu voudras." The hostess said to Frankie. "And welcome back Alistair, your usual table?"
It was only then that Frankie's brain caught up and as they started to walk away arm in arm she whispered, "What did she say?"
"Do what thou will. It's the club's motto, a place where anything goes" and his frivolous and wicked grin spread across his face, the one that won her over ever time.
As they walked deeper into the club the sultry voice of a 1920's singer drifted around, various gambling tables came into view off to the right and the bar to the left, stage dead center with numerous tables dotted around and some private booths. Alistair lead her to a booth letting Frankie slide in and get the view she wanted of the stage.
In just a moment a waitress was at the table with a bottle of champagne. Dressed in a black corset with red trim, ruffled panties, stockings and fishnet gloves. She had fantastic red ringlets, Frankie admired them for a more than a fleeting moment, no matter what she did with her fine hair curls would not hold. Then realisation dawned, the lighting was dim but Frankie was sure she had red skin. And were they scales, and horns, small ones but horns? A quick glance to Alistair and he wasn't reacting, maybe this was a costume for venue staff. Frankie popped her head above the booth seat and took a good look around, yep other waitresses were the same. Some green, some purple but similar, and the odd tail. But wait, a customer, there...a blue customer. Frankie studied the waitress a little more who luckily was talking to Alistair. This didn't look fake, no patchy face paint.
"First time honey?"
"Excuse me?" Frankie replied.
"First time at Hellfire?" The waitress asked again.
Frankie couldn't speak, her accent was even off. European but not, so she just nodded her reply.
"Touch the tail if you like, it's all real." She said flicking a pointed red tail round to reach out to Frankie's hand.
"Abbey, let her have a drink at least." Alistair mockingly chastised the waitress.
"OK." she giggled, "offer's there if she lasts." She said with a wink. Frankie watched her tail flick as she chasséed to the next table.
Frankie downed her glass of champagne and a second. Nope that was not going to cut it. Calmly she got up and walked away from the booth, she could hear Alistair shout her name once but kept on walking. They had talked about the club of myth and legend where the wealthy go the 'let their hair down' where the devil walked among them, if you believed such things. When he said he could take her she never for one minute thought it existed and not like this.
Reaching the bar she perched on a red velvet stool and didn't even wait for the bar tender to ask.
"Tequila, straight. Slice on the side"
"Rough day?" he asked dead pan. Stood there in his bowler hat, stripped waistcoat with reptilian eyes like it was the most normal thing in the world.
She knocked back the shot, slammed the glass upside down on the bar and after sucking the lemon a second said, "Again!"
Five shots later Frankie thanked the bar tender and walked back to the booth. She slid in next to Alistair.
"OK, so what's first?" she giggled wickedly.
So this was my response to a friend of mine trying to kick my writing behind into gear! Thanks Leah! Who's response to the writing prompt below can be found here. And my awesome blogging bestie has also taken up the challenge too and written something here. They are both super talented writers so you should definitely go check them out, if only to see how we all cam up with completely different things for the same prompt.