She used men, just as men used her.
The night has been easy for her, not too cold not too warm, the johns are equally easy. She scored an easy $500 for the night, in views of her day job its small change. Yes, she has a day job, not a waitress kind of day job, but a sit-in-a-million-dollar-office-doing-million-dollar-project kind of job. So, why? I don't think even she can answer that question.
On another night she would be strolling the streets looking for preys among lust driven men, the other girls gave her a wide berth, they know not to mess with her. But tonight she had enough of the streets, the image of warm sheets, chilled wine and romance novel has been on her mind the entire evening, calling like a siren for her to come home early. With the image getting stronger she walked towards the alley where she parked her car. She didn't notice the shadow following her, getting closer and closer, grabbing her by surprised as she was about to open her car. "Going home, little whore?" Hoarse voice accompany the cold glint a knife resting silently on the base of her throat. She can't move, not before assessing who he really was. A wet lick of tongue on the side of her neck "You taste so damn good little whore" whiskey breath, foul and dirty makes her gagged. She started to feel annoyed, the man are still rambling behind her, calling her "Little whore", pawing her thigh and breasts with his free hand, while the other hand wielding the knife from side to side of her neck.
The man pushed her towards her car, trapped her between himself and the car door, still rambling. She lets out a bored sigh in between his ramblings, the man is just a mediocre psycho, not someone worthy of a torture. He won't stand even a minute with her. With that making up her mind, she elbowed her attacker stomach, surprising him, catching his wrist and with a simple flick stealing the knife from his grasp. Another well placed punched, the man sprawled beneath her feet. She straddled his chest, the knife glinting in the moonlight, the table has turned. No more lust can be find in his eyes, terror and cowardice is the only thing inside.
"You annoy me!" The man doesn't even have the chance to scream before the knife moves from side to side on his neck. Blood splattered on the streets, she took out a handkerchief from her purse, cleaned the knife handle and toss it. No need to be hasty and leave a finger print in this kind of situation. An annoyed sigh came from her before she enters the car, a blood spatter has landed on her pantyhose, that would be another hose down the drain. It's so hard to clean a blood stain. She gunned her car from the alley, the wine and novel became a more interesting past time for the night after all the excitement.
The body of a man found with a neck wound the next day, the knife on his side presumed as the murder weapon. The police is still looking for the perpetrator. But beneath all of the official looking investigation, the girls on the street feel a little safer without him around. Maybe they will give her a thank you nod, the next time they see her.