INTRODUCTION BEFORE THE MAIN STORY
The Kidney Heist is one of the most disturbing modern urban legends that has been spread by travelers and partygoers worldwide.
It is based on real reports of black- market organ theft with the most common versions of the story originating in the United States, particularly from Las Vegas, Nevada, in the 1990s.
The story always starts the same: A lonely tourist meets someone charming at a bar then drinks a little too much, blacks out, and wakes up in a bathtub filled with ice...
... And missing a kidney.
Doctors, police, and skeptics call it an urban myth, but one thing you must know is...
Some people live it.
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July 2011, hffft.
I can't believe it took me this long to finally get to experience traveling out on a business trip to Las Vegas----- the place of wealth and pleasure.
29 is not such a bad time though, but for a young, ambitious man like me, it's rather late.
After all, I was just elected the manager of our company branch yesterday.
Just how many more years do I have to enjoy the wealth I've finally managed to get my hands on.
Well, let's see how it goes.
Tonight, I went to a sleek rooftop bar near The Strip----- a club/casino only the rich can afford.
And from here I can see the Neon lights painting the skyline red, and the city... so small beneath me.
I'm supposed to be networking right now, but after two bourbons, I just wanted to forget about work for a while.
I really need to get laid tonight.
A little pleasure and fun can't hurt, I deserve it.
And besides, no one can fire me; nothing bad ever happens to rich people like me.
My eyes scan the bar looking for a woman that could fit my taste and my needs for tonight, and then my eyes land on one.
She's sitting alone at the bar with long dark hair, wearing a red dress that doesn't bother to hide her volumtious tits.
I always did have a thing for chicks with boobs.
A smile forms on the edges of my lips as I catch her watching me as well.
I beckon her with a call of my fingers, and she bats her eyes at me, smiling as she instantly leaves her chair and walks towards me, swaying those round hips of hers.
What did I say? Money gives power to the rich.
She doesn't hesitate to sit beside me once she reaches me; that's good.
I don't do shy chicks.
"Rough night?" she asks.
I chuckle, "You could say that. You?"
"Just killing time," she says, swirling her drink.
"Vegas gets lonely when you're not gambling or sleeping with the wrong people."
I laugh.
She introduces herself as Mara and we talk for a few minutes.
She told me she was in real estate, and I told her I sold tech software.
We clinked glasses, and she laughed when I told her I'd prefer to get down to business than waste precious time on chitchat.
It's then that I realised I'd down my glass, but she hadn't actually drank.
She'd just been holding her glass the entire time.
"Aren't you going to drink?" I ask raising a brow at her.
In response she shakes her head at me, leaning closer and resting a manicured index finger on my chest.
"I'd rather drink you instead."
I'm not sure who taught chicks this move, but this move---- with her plump bottom being gently pulled by her lips, her tits hanging low with her bent frame for my eyes to fist on, and the feeling of light fingers resting on my chest----- is hot as hell.
And the sight of those juicy, bouncy tits make me feel like I'm in heaven.
Now this, is something I'm willing to spend money on, and I don't care I'm at the roof top, it's a conserved area anyway, so not much people are around.
I can do as I please.
"Come drink me then," I order her.
She rasps, sucking in a breath and angling her chin up to me, her finger trailing low, and lower, heading for my belt.
... And as her hands reach for me, my tongue goes thick with desire, my breathing deepens and...
The room starts to spin.
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I wake up freezing.
My body is trembling from the cold, and the first thing I see is white.
Everything around me is white; white walls, white curtains... I look up, white ceiling as well.
Darn it.
I sigh, closing my eyes and rubbing my hands over face.
It seems I'm in a hotel room, but I don't remember railing that chick.
Was it that good?
Huhhh, I got drunk, now I can't even remember if the fuck was good.
I sigh.
"There'll be more fun times," I mutter to myself and turn to tell the chick to pack up.
But then I freeze.
I'm not in bed, I'm... in a bathtub?
Filled with ice in it????
"What the fuck?!!"
I curse and try to sit up, but suddenly a sharp, stabbing pain hits damn hard through my right side.
Plus my head also starts to pound viciously.
Groaning, I press a hand to the left side of my head and look down to see a long wound just below my ribs.
But it's been sewed roughly with... is that a thread?
I gag.
Confused, I bring both of my hands to grip the side if the bathtub tightly.
What the hell is happening?
As I try to stand again, I notice that there's a mirror in front of me, with a yellow sticky note taped to it.
Reaching for it with my right hand, I notice it shaking as I pull the note off, reading the words written on it.
"There's a phone on the toilet lid, if you want to live, Call 911."
Cautiously, I turn and reach for the phone that's indeed sitting on the toilet lid, grabbing it and sliding my numb fingers over the buttons.
"9- 1- 1," I gasp, wheezing in pain and difficulty as I typed it in.
A few seconds later, a calm woman's voice answered. "911 what's your emergency?"
"I---- I don't know," I stammered.
"I woke up in a bathtub---- there's ice... a wound---- there was a wo----- a woman-----"
"Sir, please try to stay calm. Where is your location?"
"I don't------" My voice cracked. "I don't know where I am."
"Is the wound on your side?"
I look down at the sewed wound, "Y- Yes."
"Alright Sir I need you to stay calm and don't move. You're still in shock."
"Still in shock for what?" I ask bewildered.
"Your kidney has been removed."
A wave of shock hits me, and I stagger out of the tub, my legs barely holding me up.
The room I'm in is small and filthy, with cracked tiles, a dying bulb light hanging on the cheap ceiling and... blood on the floor.
Gagging and almost getting sick all over the messy floor, my eyes catch sight of a door just ahead, and I move towards it.
Pushing the door open, I see a hallway lined with dirty linoleum which I stumbled out into, clutching my side with my right hand.
Unconsciously my left hand is still holding the phone to my ear, and I can hear the operator's voice buzzing.
... But I barely heard her, and just kept walking, passing other locked rooms along the way.
Finally I reach the end of the hall which has a blinking EXIT sign glowing in red lighting, and I don't think twice before dropping the phone in my hand to grab the door knob.
Then I push through the door and stumble head first into an alley, the night air burning into my lungs as I gasped, collapsing to the ground near a dumpster.
My vision was fuzzy and blurring, and my eyelids began to droop in tiredness and exhaustion.
By my side I felt a sharp pain again, and I grunted, managing to glance down to see that I was bleeding into my palm.
... And the last thing I heard before everything went black was the sound of sirens.
When I woke up again, I was in a hospital bed, with the beeping sound of a heart monitor filling the room.
I didn't speak at first, as I was trying to understand were I was.
Then a nurse noticed that I was awake and ran out, returning with a middle- aged doctor.
"Mr. Hayes?" he asked gently.
"Whe---- where am I?"
"St. Mary's Hospital," he said.
"You were brought in early this morning. Someone called emergency services anonymously and reported seeing an wounded man in an alley downtown."
Wounded.
That word brought a food of memories rushing through me.
I swallowed hard, "My… kidney?"
He sighed, looking down at a clipboard the nurse passed to him at that moment.
"Yes. Your right kidney was surgically removed. It's a good thing you don't have infection; whoever did the surgery did It cleanly. It looks professional."
I felt sick, "You mean a doctor did this?"
He didn't answer but instead gave me a patient look. "It is not the end, many people survive with only one kidney and live a long life."
"Fuck that!" I snapped, making the doctor jerk in surprise.
"Get me a cop!" I shouted, pushing myself to get up but then the nurse and doctor began to push me back down to lay on the bed.
"Mr. Hayes-------"
"Get your fucking hands off me. I said I want to see a cop!!!"
A few minutes later, probably about half an hour, the police came and a detective named Morales took my statement.