A beautiful singer is thrown together with a scruffy detective down on his luck, when the working girls of a small city begin showing up dead.
Somewhere in the foggy, darkened streets of New York, a woman's scream rang out only to be met with silence.
The locals knew better than to investigate, shutting their doors to the chaos of the outside world and praying to god whatever it was would leave them out of it.
The lone clacking of high heels belonged to a woman who fit under the "Not smart enough" category, at least to them. With a red lipped smirk, a woman cloaked in nightfall watched the lights flick off one by one, following her down the street as if celebrating her midnight stroll.
She took the cigarette from between her teeth, lifting a dainty wrist to knock sharply upon the door at the end of the street. The miserable red glare from a blinking 'MOTEL' sign one floor up bathed her in an eerie glow, though it all seemed fine to her. These were her filth covered streets, these were her girls that prowled the side walk after sundown, and this was her city.
A slat was forced aside with a sharp scrape of metal on metal, a pair of tired, hazed grey eyes staring down at the woman with recognition. Jessica pushed her way inside, standing at the top of the stairs looking down with that proud smirk that sat perpetually upon her face.
With her first step forward, she dropped the thick furs from her shoulders and began her slow descent. With every step those long legs took, the gaze of many was sure to follow. Her hips moved just the right amount, swaying as if it were natural- this show she put on.
The Undertow was the kind of bar a man went to, to escape his wife and his responsibility. Where the broken hearted, the lonely, the misfits and the unwanted went to feel like part of a world so unlike the one outside those heavy doors. Lit not by candles, but by dying lights and the red glow of the end of a cigar.
Under the red light, anything went..