He could never get enough of it. The soft, feminine bodies that would press against him or come home to his trailer for the night — it was an addiction. He couldn’t stay away even if he tried.

Like sugar on his tongue.

The way their bodies shake, move, turn and sway in such heavenly, sickenly allure was like coming into the gates of heaven itself. Or Hell. Either or, it was a pleasant trip nonetheless. He wasn’t a picky man in a world where he might die tomorrow.

Their bodies were so sweet.

It made him feel alive. The burn of the alcohol. The smell of feminine sweetness — living a life of hedonistic virtues, this was one of the many things he enjoyed the most when he didn’t have to worry about demons coming for his neck. Lost away between the softness and sweetness of women and not the bloodbath of demons. If he could, he’d rather be in between a pair of legs and lick the creams of divine sweetness, than taste iron on his tongue.

The nightclub was dimly lit, dance floor tiles softly glowing with people moving about inebriated. A tower of speakers in either corner of the main stage blast out house music accompanied by flashing lights as the smell of sweat and alcohol heavily stunk the air with laughs and talks of men and women alike. A balcony above the main stage where the owner was overseeing the affairs of the club's crowd — luring raucous youths and the likes with drinks, drugs, and sexual desires.

Employees, being females, dressed in revealing lingeries to entice patrons of the night. Many spots within the club filled with women dancing on poles, as a bouncer stood by the door to prevent any violence.

As usual, Dante sat at one of the many couches by the walls. Feet propped on the low, coffee table in front of him, ankles crossed with a glass of whiskey in one hand. His eyes ate at the scene; the half-naked clad of women and all their feminine assets on teasing display for men like him to eat.

Away from hunting demons for the day, a little night to enjoy himself was very much needed. His eyes roamed the dance floor and stages where the dancers were, looking for potential company.

Like sugar on his tongue, he couldn’t stay away.