I've always been afraid of the darkness, but in some ways, I've craved it most over anything else.

Trinity lifted the half empty, cheap bottle of vodka to her mouth to swig the last of the bitter liquid, mostly spittle now. The fluid burned even though she was already half wasted and she twisted her face in painful acceptance of it. Some of the juice escaped, slithering to the corner of her mouth; she wiped the escaping tranquilizer towards her lips, forcing it into her mouth, sucking the last traces from her finger. The liquor was cheap, but the high was necessary and she didn't want to waste a drop. The empty bottle rocked as her heavy hand slammed it on the table. Viewing herself in the mirror, she dabbed at the eyeliner that had seeped from her eyelids to the skin beneath. Adding a touch of lip gloss then straightening her dress, she began making her way to the bedroom where the man waited. The adrenaline of the feeling of power welled in her with each step. Placing her hand on the doorknob, now regret was replaced with an overwhelming but euphoric sense of power and control. She felt sexy and desired, yet she controlled just how things would go down. She was the power-house executive in this room.

The dank hotel room was akin to one you'd see in a b-rated horror flick,with its decor sadly antiquated and in disrepair.  The floral wallpaper border curled up on the ends where the walls met. The rest of the wall might have been white once, but is now stained from smoking (more than cigarettes has probably been smoked in this room). Trinity kept her shoes on because the equally stained carpet was musky and damp. The most important feature of the room, the bed, was not much better; it was lumpy with stains left by the many visitors before her. But Trinity makes it a point to cover the bed with a plastic liner and her own sheets. It gives a touch of femininity and sophistication to the otherwise perilous and disgusting atmosphere. The truth is, Trinity wasn't here for romance, so the decor didn't matter, but she had a hard time feeling seductive in a bed where thousands of others had done what she's about to do (and has done many times). 

Trinity slowly turned the doorknob and from the other side of the door she heard a wanting moan. A half-smile creased across her face, the feeling of power shot through her veins again. The intoxicating effect of the vodka heightened and any leftover thoughts of her other life disappeared from her memory, if only temporarily. The dim bedside lamp shone on his face revealing a vulnerability Trinity thought was "cute." His demeanor now was much different than the cocky, self-assured man she'd met just hours ago at the business conference. Tonight's seduction would be an easy one. Her half-smile now a full one accompanied by her glowing eyes signaled her equal desire for the man. 

Trinity straddled the man at the waist and slowly leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp. The darkness cloaked her entire body and the room and the man, but she ignored it; the power of seduction erased her fears and insecurities. The darkness made it possible for only her and the man to exist, so there was no reason to think about anything else. And if the possibility that pangs of her wrongdoing were to strike her, the unflinching sense of control she felt at that moment would decimate them, put them to rest until she was sober and the light of day meandered past the moth-eaten curtains of the hotel room.