Just The Way You Like It

In a dingy room that stank of sweat, dirt and a faint tang of blood, two people lay on a stripped mattress with their limbs intertwined.

They looked as good as dead and none of them stirred as the door suddenly got kicked in.

The faint light from the hallway washed over their faces and revealed the faces of a heavily bearded man with bottle-green hair and a woman with dirty, tangled, dirt-blond hair strewn over her face.

Sounds of raucous laughter from afar and pissy traffic where drivers seemed to be having a contest over the horns filtered into the small room.

None of them stirred as two men entered and one of them spat into the corner of the room with a disgusted look on his face.

The other held his nose as he squinted at the trail of dried blood on the arm of the woman.

“I daresay! Is that blood?”

Close to the bed was a dirty syringe with a remnant of some liquid in it.