Moonlight In The Dark
rating: +2+x

"Alright, we're here," Clark's gruff, old Uber driver grunted before looking back at him with a knowing grin. "Have fun, dude."

Clark grimaced, looking out of the van's dirty window. Outside was a old, dusty warehouse which looked as if it had been abandoned for years, despite the light leaking from its windows. He hesitently stepped out, and the Uber driver pulled away, turning around and leaving him stranded.

Is this the right place? He thought, reaching into his pocket for the scrap of paper his friend had given him, comparing it to the image he had plugged into his phone. As he studied the adresses, a small notification popped up, asking him for his rating of the Uber driver. His hand wavered over two stars, but he decided to be nice and give a four and a half. I suppose he was nice… Kind of creepy though. And he bought me to the right place…

Clark sighed, walking up the weed-covered path up the the warehouse's door.

He gulped and reached for the handle, pulling it open. Loud, violent music instantly pumped through his ears as he walked in, blazing strobe lights just about blinding him. I don't want to be here…

As his eyes adjusted, Clark could finally take a look at the people inside. They all danced— their torn sleeves wavering in the wind as they jammed out to the eardrum-bursting rock music playing all throughout the club. A green neon sign flashed in the distance, directing him to the bar. Perhaps I can get help there, he thought.

He jostled through the crowd of smelly ravers, almost reaching the bar when suddenly a sweaty hand was slung around his shoulders, like some sort of side-hug.

"Hey there," The gritty man connected to the hand said. "You don't look like you've been here."

"Yeah, I—" Clark uncomfortably tried to move away and shove him off, to no avail. The creep's grip around him tightened. "Sir, could you please take your hands off of me?"

"Now, don't be rash, I've only just met you, I think that a little celebration is in order, hmm? Why don't we start by getting you a drink?"

As the creep's hand started to drift down Clark's hip, he started to look around for help. Clark quickly noticed a tall black-haired man in a torn denim jacket exit the nearby bathroom, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Another man was draped across his shoulder, and they immediately separated as they both looked up, making eye contact with Clark's helpless eyes.

"Come on, why aren't you answering me? Do you not like me? I think I can change that—"

He was interrupted by a punch directly to the face, sending him sprawling onto the ground. Clark looked back, spotting the black-haired man rubbing his fist, looking down at the creep, whom now had a bloody nose.

He bended down and grabbed him by the collar of his stained grey shirt, telling him, "You know the rules," before reeling back and hitting him once more, knocking him out. Looking up at the crowd surrounding them, he jerked his head down, and two people stepped out, dragging the unconscious body away.

"Thank you, um…"

The man turned around with a beaming smile on his face. "It's Roman. Sorry about that creep, we try to keep pervs like him out."

Clark's face went red. "Ah, it's alright! I'm Clark, um, a— anyways, thanks for dealing with him."

"No problem, it's my job, Clark." Roman chuckled before curiously asking, "So, what are you here for? You don't seem like the partying type."

"No, I— Uh, let me just…" Clark fumbled through his pockets, pulling out a small sheet of paper. "I'm looking for a… Miss Kleiman?"

"Ah, Vic! Here, follow me," the dancers parted way as Roman led him through, right into an elevator. He pressed the 'B2' button, and they descended into the basement, with only tiny little beeps breaking the silence. Clark looked over at Roman, quickly spotting .

"Hey, what's that stain on your collar?"

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Roman looked down at the stain, then back up at Clark. He winked, and Clark could feel his face turn red.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the elevator's doors opened.

They walked through the dim, quiet hallway, eventually reaching a door, which Roman flung open. "Yo, Vic! I've got a guy here to see you."

The red-haired woman's head shot up from her desk, which she had been sleeping on. She adjusted her glasses and looked over to a short list. "Clark, right? Take a seat."

Clark nervously walked over to the desk, sitting in a black plastic chair across from it. "So… Why am I here?"

"Cutting to the chase, eh? I like it!" Vic chuckled. "Here at Inevitability Industries we really like that can-do attitude!"

"Inevitability Industries?"

"Yeah, we're a sex company."

There was a long period of silence, and Clark's face flushed. "W— I— Why— Uh" He stuttered incoherently. "Then why me? I I don't know much about sex!"

With a small clap, Vic spoke, "That's alright, we just handle the financial side of things! If anything, that's a good trait! Then you won't get off-task like some people," she cleared her throat, glaring at Roman, who mischeviously smiled back. "Look, you don't have to be a sex fiend like Roman over there, we don't hire based on how much pussy you wanna get."

Clark considered saying: 'You think I'm a virgin by choice?' but decided against that idea, instead sighing. "Well, that's good… But I'm still confused, why me?"

"Let's see," Vic looked back to her sheet of paper once more. "You're young, you've recently graduated, you have an accounting degree, and you seem pretty responsible. Looks like you're only lacking one thing—"

"You think I don't know about the anomalous, don't you?" With a smug grin, Clark leaned back in his chair. "I'm not dumb. My roommate was an anartist, he taught me about this kind of stuff. In fact, I also dabbled in mechanical engineering!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a graphing calculator, showing it to her. "Put that to good use making this baby! You don't have to worry about all that slow formula crunching when you can just think about a math problem and it'll solve it for you!"

Vic looked down at the calculator, then up at him, clapping her hands together once more, exclaiming, "I'm suprised, Clark! Wait, does it really—"

She looked down, watching as the calculator started running through numerous complex equations automatically. "That's… Really impressive, actually. We can talk about that later though, what's important is that we're not just a sex company, we're an anomalous sex company!"

"And you guys want to hire me," Clark thought for a moment. "When do I start?"


Just as he got done setting up his office, Vic knocked on his door, throwing a file of papers onto his desk. "I see you're making yourself comforable, eh? Anyways, there's your first job! We need more strapons ordered by Saturday! Hop to it!"

Clark momentarily regretted ever stepping a foot into the warehouse, but he eventually sat down, opening the file. Time to get to work! he thought, and he began to calculate the cost of strapons by the thousand.

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