“Excuse me. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Make it quick. What do you want?”

“I wanted to ask you about a girl that comes here a lot.”

“Look, I’m just the DJ okay? This is Las Vegas; we don’t have regulars.”

“This girl is different. She comes here every night. Or at least every night I’ve come here, and I’ve been coming here for the past 3 weeks. She has long, jet black hair, porcelain skin and emerald eyes. Each night she’s dead center on dance floor.”

The DJ smiled, “Ah, I see you’ve discovered Sheena.”

“Sheena? Who’s she?”

“What’s your name, man?”

“Hunter.”

“Take a seat and I’ll tell you a little story Hunter,” the DJ said, pushing a chair towards him, “about Sheena, the Siren of Las Vegas,” Hunter took the seat the DJ had offered and began to listen. The DJ leaned forward and talked quietly, as if somebody was listening.

“She’s here every night between the hours of 11 pm and 2 am. I’ve never actually seen her up close. I only see flashes of her dancing in the crowd. She only dances in very middle, under the main chandelier. No one ever sees a clear view of what she really looks like, unless you are one of the choice few,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Choice few? And if you are, what then?” Hunter leaned forward in his chair, his dirty blonde hair falling over his eyes.

“She never leaves the Mirage. She’s got a permanent penthouse suite. You’ve seen her. You know exactly what she looks like. Has she looked at you at all?” the DJ questioned, his brow furrowing.

“Yes. Last night she stopped dancing and looked right into my eyes. I had the strongest craving to go to her, but my intuition took over and I had to get out of here,” Hunter said, seeming entirely confused, “What do you mean ‘Siren of Las Vegas’?”

“First, she picks them. The ones she desires are the ones that vanish suddenly. That is, after she gets what she wants,” the DJ’s face was grave and humorless, “Haven’t you ever heard of the Greek myth? This club is the island of Anthemusa, her lair. She lures innocent men with her hypnotic dancing. People call it her ‘Siren Song’. When she knows she’s got them hooked, she brings them up to her hotel room. They are never seen in Las Vegas ever again,” he said grimly, while leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah. Right,” Hunter rolled his eyes smugly and put an arm over the back of his chair.

“It’s not what you think. They don’t die. She’s not a murderer, but she does make them disappear for a while. A month or two later, they end up on the other side of world, in someplace like Moscow or Spain. People have investigated it, but have found absolutely no evidence leading to her. Now they just leave her alone,” he sighed, “It’s obvious she likes you,” Hunter smiled, “Don’t be conceited. It’s not something to be proud of. Most of them don’t die, but after they stopped investigating her, men started to disappear more frequently. And these ones were never found. Anywhere,” his face was grave.