They used to say the night has a thousand eyes. It really has millions.

I Wait Until Dark 

By Mike M. West

Ó 2001, MMW

, CA

click for MP3 read aloud by Cybr-sistah-bot Mary (4.4 megs 9 1/2 mins)

The auto crash had left Milli with scars of merciless kind

But the darkness was by far worse, and the hated prognosis was "blind"

Even her surgeon wept, when by follow up appointment they met

Milli, alive, had been a losing bet

Taking the one sense and trading on reservoirs of heart

Milli resolved early on that it would propel a new life's start

It wasn't until the following year topped

That the ripple of toe-stubbing accidents stopped

Thereafter, with each day

Less unpadded furniture got in the way

Mill came to appreciate the black

Saw it less and less as a lack

Fading depression soothed by the heaped plate

Added curves and rolls to a figure once fashion model great

Two years later Mill again sought her doctor's analysis

To fight a losing battle against creeping left side paralysis

Slight droop to the corner of the lips, eye and cheek, slighter drag to the leg

Mill fled the support groups and took to honky-tonk bars, refusing god to beg

She became addicted to life behind the pulsing neon sign

Dirty dancing in every alcohol and testosterone yee-hah shrine

She used her infirmities as honey, easily attracting men of patronizing support

But neither did she avoid the wild drunken macho sort

With them she traded a willing and wanton passionate sex

For siren call to violence prone cowboy drunks with their exaggerated muscle flex

Those hunters of flesh who ignore nature's wisdom that the hunter attracts a meaner hunter, a harder fall

That the predator is only a link in a chain inevitably preyed upon after all

He was multi-pierced of ear and nipple, head ragged in biker style

With lusty eyes he watched Milli hobnob the bar, and all the while

This American monster of a man named Coyote, a man born to outrageous sin

Planned a bloody crime and approached Milli with a toothy friendly grin

A face and eye dancing wide grin of country boy charm

Hiding the snarling intent to a night of satisfying a lust for some victim's bodily harm

Milli created a picture of a webbed-fly drunken helpless on wine and beer

And the jukebox tunes played loudly in her head, a sensory workup to hear

And dance to, those country rhythms causing a needful fever

Her man came to her in two-step sidle, that practiced easy friendliness to deceive her

His blood hunger anxiety made the "bobwire" tattoos on his arms dance

And his blood rushed hot with anticipation of targeted prey chance

Mostly her vulnerability, lack of defense, attracted this vicious sense

He'd use her overly apparent sexual invitation

No need to break and enter where the door was open, with obvious intention

This time she'd called up a monster, a ravenous appetite for violence insane

Honed by his father's sadism to enjoy another's pain

He called upon his gang, Mark, Latrental, Henry and Lou

Their next hunt would be on the blind lady at Coyote's que

He put each of his gang in place to be the one Milli might lead to her door

The one to play on her promiscuous need

The one to open a way for the others to follow and feed

Each was partner to her sexy drunken dances across the sawdusted floor

Not much dancing, a standing rubjob, nothing more

Lack of subtlety drew the men she hunted

Their wallets and urges, reality lost and reality shunted

Coyote saw her pull men by hand and hooked arm drunken stumbling

Milli joined a game of advance and retreat, splashing a beerglass, slurring and mumbling

Her manner didn't let on she saw his eyes slit with the intention of a poised snake

Blind and semi-paralytic, she appeared a victim by any's definitions

To the predator, she was begging imminent release from life and possessions

Coyote noted her stamina but stayed through the after-hours for his own chance

Sidling up to Milli as she "hey you, cowboy"-ed him for a last call and dance

"Hold me close, I get lost pretty easy" was the come-on line

He saw it as hanging out the fuck-me sign

The remaining bar crowd knew to steer out of this gang's way

Their concerns for "the woman" were cowed by the barely-masked brutish play

Mill with her sensitive hands on the big man's iron-hard arms did not feel a threat

Not even the convict's exercise-yard muscles made her fret

Until she got him home and writhing on the textured rug

And his long arms wrapped her like an anaconda's hug

Not even her guest's strange request

For lighting the place up less and the click of an unlocked door

Not the usual "got any booze and where's the john"

Coyote said, "Hey baby, where's all your furniture," (not, he hoped, already stolen and gone)

The man had never seen a laser tag room and the care with which this one was planned

Or he'd have recognized the setup and maybe even the game at hand 

She felt her way across the floor by the textured carpet and throw-rug trail

Like the path was mapped strictly by her in a high-pile Braille

It didn't take long for Milli to get an idea that she and her one night lover weren't alone

That her 'date' didn't let on should have chilled the lady to the bone

Extremely quiet footsteps of several men sounded throughout her place

As she turned to each slight noise, rustling breezes brushed her face

Bravely she said-- "Hey, is this party for all of us?

Who all's on my pretty party bus?"

That's when she took a hard slap across the cheek

Nothing she hadn't felt before, from a slaphappy bar pickup freak

But the sound of an expert flick and click of a switchblade filled the room

An unforgettable sound, an unforgettable feeling of sobering doom

Would her party game go up in the spark of violence's flame?

Out there, thousands of eyes watched in glee

As their hero, the one, the only, Mayhem Milli

Lured the unsuspecting to her internet cams

As Milli bided her time and took their clothes ripping slams

The cameras, both infrared and low-lux, caught it all

And the ratings went over the wall

Eyeballs stared glued to computer screens bright

The password given, credit cards charged, and on with another Milli Mayhem night

Milli had another mega-bit hit

Racked up, she hoped, before her throat got slit…

But it was dancing close with lots of phony pawing for weapons

That made Milli aware there were no game-stopping arms on these felons

The tide of violence turned as Milli followed the carpet texture to a pre-hidden blade

And within a second it was Coyote's gang screaming for aid

As she whirled and twirled in kung-fu jitsu low sweeping wheels

Their nightmares echoed in their screams and blade-slashed squeals

With the lights back up, Milli looked at the scene, and the money it'd bring

And triumphantly reached down and ripped off Coyote's largest nipple ring

Explosive! Bombshell! Super!! Blind ninja queen tops the WWF-like internet rage

Reality-basing the most addicting stage

Even better than last week's rape, a robbery-hostage situation bind

All perpetrated by the lady only sightlessly blind

Milli used razors and tasers hidden under rug, cushion and chair

She laughed as Coyote's boys sought cover from her in her tricked out lair

Ten minutes after going through that fateful door

Coyote and his gang lay bleeding, their bodies writhing on the floor

Wide-eyed and unbelieving Coyote and his now whimpering boys

Had been a clever woman's wind-up toys

With a bruise or two, and academy award fear and a thwarted rape

Milli signed off another net battle with barely a scrape

Had they been more than she could handle, Milli had only to whisper her safeword

And the 911 was in from all over the viewing world

Throw in the towel, and the phony apartment walls would cave

Bells and alarms, the only loss a reputation for satisfying the depraved--

Perversity programming over a Russian net was a global neighborhood watch

Milli broadcast her net-show from a third world net-cast slot

The queen arachnid on a web of electric fire

Handicapping her prey on fanned flame of truly blind male desire

Sent the ratings and clicks soaring, the tabloids roaring

The feverish run of wagering was staggeringly high

And in taking her percentage, Milli was not in the least shy

A blind lady manufacturing click and run wealth on the boundless lust of primal urge

Using the infallible lure of vice on such all too human scourge

On those that would mistakenly think to feed from a source far higher up the chain

For Milli the darkness carries its own price

And it's high as her prey's self-offered sacrifice

Matador's in the house, you realize,

And the house is always dark, but, there are the eyes

Always the prying eyes

Waiting until dark

love, Mikey

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