One incident in the
spring of 2009 involved two young men who were leaving an all-night drinking
party, and were parked in front of “Demon Hotel”. The following account is written by one of the victims himself, names have been censored.
As we approached his car on Hargrave, I was half-studying an
abandoned, boarded-up, dilapidated red brick building. It was, without a doubt, representative of
the ever-increasing downturn of downtown as exhibited by the rampant bloody
mayhem, zombie-themed vagrancy, and decaying architecture and infrastructure. To be charitable, downtown Winnipeg has “lots of character.” Just as CENSORED had pressed the unlock button
on his keychain remote, a female voice quickly interjected – seemingly out of
nowhere.
“Excuse me, you guys, I need some help!”
While our conversation of horse execution was engaging, it
was not so all-consuming that I would fail to notice someone so nearby to
us. But yet, there she was all of a
sudden. As I turned around to see just
who this troubled female voice belonged to, she continued with her request.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I think there’s a man beating
up a cat in that alley right there beside my building.” She was pointing to a very dark corridor
between two buildings, one being the nasty wreck of an abandoned building, the
other being a basic three-story apartment.
“You think there’s a man beating up a cat in that alley?”
responded CENSORED, who, like me,
seemed surprised by the request – a request that still had no task associated
with it.
“Yeah, I could hear a cat screaming and hissing, and I think
I saw a shadow of male figure punching something, and it was just now going on
right outside my window while I was studying” then she pointed at the spooky
old building “seemed like it was right beside that abandoned apartment.”
I began squinting at the alley and asked “you’re sure it was
the alley? Could be some squatters or
who knows what in that building.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty
sure the alley” she replied.
We all began to peer at the alley. I couldn’t see more than three feet into it,
with the tall weeds and partial fence. I
could see, however, that there was a tall fence at the other end, meaning there
was only one entrance and exit.
CENSORED then began to ask some basic
clarification question, such as what time this started, etc. I was only half paying attention as I just began
to take serious note of this young lady.
She was exhibiting the prototypical Beverly Hills hooker attire, sans the high
heels. Large breasts that were sitting
firmly without a bra and her top low-cut was only high enough to barely cover
the nipples which were hardened from either the excitement or the cool
breeze. She wasn’t entirely Caucasian
either, possibly of Latina or Spanish decent… which I find exotic, erotic, and
drastically out-of-place in the downtown Winnipeg setting. Additionally, her thick-rimmed oval glasses
satisfied the librarian genera, and her short jet-black hair suggested she was
not a snooty valley girl.
And come to think of it, why is she barefoot out on the
sidewalk? Perhaps it added some validity
to her apparent urgency in finding Good Natured Samaritans to confront the cat
beater; however, given her slutty wear, I also thought it likely that her being
barefoot was merely her being accommodating to the ever-increasing foot
fetishist population.
I continued to draw conclusions of her character based on her
appearance as she was discussing the situation at hand. She was mentioning how she was sitting at
her window, studying when she heard the bizarre sounds begin.
Wanting to get a word in, I asked “what are you studying?”
which was, of course, entirely meaningless in this particular situation.
She looked at me and responded, in a slightly annoyed tone
“philosophy,” then continued “but I’m just worried that he may kill the cat, or
worse!” She paused, gave CENSORED and me a pleading look, and
finally specified the kind of help she was after. “Would you guys go into the alley and put a
stop to it.”
CENSORED and I took a few seconds to think
about all of this. Neither of us are
‘cat people,’ and something about this whole thing just didn’t seem quite
right.
Am I to believe that this half-naked urban-themed chick was
diligently writing some platitudes in deconstructing Plato’s Apology on a Saturday night? Really?
The only thing more absurd than the clash between her sexy attire and
supposed study was the thought of her homework session rudely interrupted by an
unseen menace savagely beating a cat for recreation.
And why was this apparent animal-lovin’ young lady, dressed
as a sultry sex bomb, approaching strangers on the street with a torrid tale of
animal abuse hidden beside - or possibly inside - such a demonic darkened
building.
In fact, it seemed too good to be true. She had almost all of my body-part-based
fetishes covered. How could this
be? What a fantastic random coincidence
running into this barefoot, big breasted babe… some nice eye candy for me to
save in the mental archive. I should try
and find out her name, would love to see the plethora of cleavage inspired
photos she uploads to the wonderful web.
No doubt, she would have some social networking page dedicated to her
shameless self-promotion. She is, after
all, a woman in The New Millennium under the age of thirty.
Anyway, have got to keep some eye contact! If she really is an eager student type,
combined with her ethno and age demographics, and a philosophy student to boot,
she would naturally be a passive new-age feminist at the very least. While I enjoy the irony of her needing some
help from men in a time of turmoil, I also wage an internal debate as to
whether new feminism is compatible with massive displays of ripe cleavage. I’ve had a few beers, so I easily convince
myself that she is indeed some sort of a slut, she is obviously looking for
male attention.
CENSORED was the first to break the silence, and asked “did
you try and call the police?”
“No, I just ran out here, I’m all alone and there was no time
to make a call, the cat needs help or he’ll kill it!”
Another brief pause, then I observed aloud “I don’t hear
anything coming from the alley, maybe he left.”
“Yeah, but the cat could be hurt in there” she quickly
quipped.
CENSORED and I looked at each other, and I
mentioned “well, we could maybe get a bit closer and see if we can see anything
in there.” I certainly wanted to convey
an image of bravado, as it would be much easier to try and get some action from
that chick as opposed to being the guy too afraid to take on a run-of-the-mill
cat beater.
CENSORED nodded, and we slowly approached the
entrance to the alley, with the barefoot breasted babe looking on from the
sidewalk. When she was out of earshot, CENSORED
quietly told me “something about this doesn’t seem quite right to me.”
I instinctively replied “yeah, I know, why would she be
dressed like such a ready-to-go ‘bar star’ slut if she is all by herself
studying?”
“No, I mean that there would be a man abusing a cat for no
reason.”
“Ah, but this is downtown Winnipeg after all. This is the kind of thing you read about in
the In Briefs crime section of the paper, you know, two quick sentences like
‘man arrested for animal cruelty, caught beating on, or beating off, a helpless
cat in darkened downtown alley. He was
released on his own recognizance shortly thereafter’.”
CENSORED and I peered into the alley, but it
was so dark, and additionally, the abandoned building’s exterior wall was not
straight, but rather had parts of it further into the alley than others,
creating many possible hiding spaces.
Then, unexpectedly, my more sensible line of thinking began
to take hold, and I started to add up a likely scenario. I told CENSORED
“you know, considering that this is Winnipeg, there is good possibility that
this is all part of a scam… think about it, a sexy looking girl exhibiting all
her best assets out on the street after dark, conveying the dame in distress
persona asks us to blindly go into a menacing darkened alley. Maybe there is somebody waiting for us in
there, who’ll mug us and such.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to head into there either, and I also
don’t hear a man or a cat” CENSORED
replied.
We headed back, and CENSORED
began telling her that we are quite sure that there is nothing going on in
there. She seemed disappointed that we
weren’t going to fully survey the alley “I’ll keep an eye from my window” she
said, disappointed.
At this time, I began feeling my buzz from the beer again,
and got aroused while looking at her fantastic body. Unfortunately, it would seem that I used up
whatever I had for mental prowess in analyzing the cat beater and possible scam
scenarios. I tried to get her to laugh,
but made the mistake of bringing forward some self-deprecating humour about how
I failed phys-ed and didn’t want to get into a wrestling match with a crazed
cat abuser.
She smiled politely, and said “well, I guess I’ll head back
then.”
Then I found some confidence in myself “unless you want to
get away from this scene. Come on over
to my place for some drinks!”
“I can’t, I should keep listening from my window and do some
studying.”
“Maybe you want to have some drinks tomorrow or something?”
She had a sly smile and said “sorry, but I have too much
going on these days.” Then as she was
turning she said “thanks anyway
guys.”
While CENSORED and
I got into his car we reviewed how it all could have been a scam, and I made
lewd comments about her physical attributes.
I went on to mention “too bad she wasn’t the easy slut that she appeared
to be, I just wanted to take her back to my place, innocently pour
teenage-girl-vodka-styled-drinks down her throat and then pound away at her
pussy while she drifts in-and-out of blissful drunken consciousness.”
CENSORED thought for a moment, then stated
“yeah, but I think she was probably more interested in studying and stopping
animal abuse than getting drunk.”
“Yeah, I guess so. And
I certainly wasn’t all that swift in trying to get her back to my place.”
CENSORED chucked “yeah, best to stay away
from insulting yourself. While it is
funny at CENSORED’s place, girls are
more looking for the Alpha Dog type.”
As CENSORED started to pull away, I took one last look back
at that perilous alley alongside the evil building. I also wanted one last look
at that helpless babe, but she seemingly disappeared as quickly as she had
earlier appeared.
Within seconds of pulling out of the parking space and onto
Hargrave, CENSORED had spotted CENSORED crossing the street on his way
back from CENSORED’s. CENSORED
pulled up and rolled down his window, and shouted “hey CENSORED, you’ll never believe what just happened beside that
building right over there.”
CENSORED pointed at the demonic looking
structure, but CENSORED just waved,
turned, and walked away quickly. CENSORED asked me “why didn’t CENSORED come over.”
I smiled and replied “he probably just doesn’t like hearing
his name shouted out on the street.”
As we drove away down Hargrave, I began replaying and overly
analyzing and the scene in my mind. Was
there really a man with a cat? If so,
maybe he wasn’t in the alley, but rather in that old wreck of a wicked
building… some vagrant squatter, or worse,
teaching a disobedient cat a lesson. Was
it all a scam? That chick certainly
seemed only interested in getting CENSORED
and I to go into the alley beside that building. If we fully went in the alley, would we be
beaten, stabbed, mugged, killed?
But then I figured, why worry too much about this absurd
encounter on Hargrave? So I lit a
cigarette, and made a meaningless comment about the song playing on the radio.
When asked for comment, a local paranormal
investigator who asked not to be named suggested that the woman may have
actually been a demonic spirit taking the form of someone the victim would
find alluring, in order to lure the unsuspecting victim into the dark corridor.
For what reason? We do not know.
See
See