Venus of the Red Lights

Finally he ran.

*****

She'd known he was watching the whole time and didn't care.

Tell who you like, that last look had said to him. This is Amsterdam. You're just another idiot who's taken more illicit substances than his body can handle. They won't believe you. They'll say it's the drugs talking.

And if you push it they'll lock you away for good in a nuthouse, Laymon thought.

Rich Hutson was gone. There was nothing Laymon could do to bring him back. If he tried to tell the truth he'd only be throwing his life away to a lifetime of institutions, treatments, psychiatrists and padded cells.

He told no one.

There was a search. No one was entirely surprised when they failed to find Richard Hutson. Plenty of young people, drawn by the reputation, tried to take on Amsterdam and ultimately found it too much for them.

Laymon told no one.

He knew the real reason. She lurked in that tangled warren of narrow streets and stinking canals, deadly beautiful as she drew unsuspecting men into her sticky jaws, the Venus of the red lights.