A Tiger in Zebra's Clothing
Kira felt herself coming into awareness, and she knew she didn't want to open her eyes. Her head throbbed like three hundred pounds of katzenjammer, and her mouth tasted like vodka and something worse. She drank too much again; she could tell that much at least. It was Tanya's fault. And Ben's. They hadn't listened to her excuses that she had to study and besides it was too gross out with that drizzle. But it was Clue Week. They had to drink whatever with Tanya's Little and celebrate something. No, she hadn't wanted to go, she was sure of that. But Tanya insisted. Kira had put on her cute zebra-striped rainboots and let them drag her out to the bar anyway.
She still didn't open her eyes. That was scary. She didn't know where she was, and she really, really hoped it was in a strange man's bed. She shifted, and a brick dug into her back. Then she realized she was buck-naked and shivering. Her fingers felt tacky and half-stuck together.
Nope. No beds. So the night had gone the other way. Fuck.
Kira didn't need to open her eyes to know she desperately wanted to keep them closed. But she cracked her eyelids anyway, and looked around the strange alley. She nearly blinded herself looking into the early morning rays. Eventually her eyes cleared enough to see the delicate way the sunlight dappled across the fresh pool of blood. She jerked herself to her feet, and almost slipped. She started backing away, but made herself look at the dismembered limbs in front of her. She stopped counting at three arms, and decided it was time to go. She found a barrel of rainwater and tried to get the blood off her hands and face.
She spotted a long coat caught on a fence, with only half a sleeve torn off. Wrapping the coat tightly around her, she trudged out of the alleyway, pretty sure her hair was a mess.
She was getting really tired of this walk of shame.