THE PULP DUNGEON

A subtle arch of one of her silver-studded eyebrows was Ashe’s only indication that the lithe albino woman had heard his question. Whether he felt more intimidated by her silence or by her shaven head, or her multiple facial piercings and the solemn tightness of her jaw posed a riddle that Ashe had yet to solve. All he knew for certain was that the look on the woman’s face asked very loudly if this fuckin’ looked like the kind of fuckin’ place that accepted fuckin’ credit cards.

She stared through him a few seconds longer. Ashe felt himself flush, feeling further mortified by the second for having asked the question. Then, mercifully, the albino extended the leather-bound volume that she held, pulling it back the instant Ashe reached for it. His fingers closed embarrassingly on air.

“Payment up front,” she barked, nailing him in place with arctic eyes. Ashe found the flat leather book neatly tucked under the albino’s breadstick-thin arm, although he didn’t remember seeing her place it there…