HomeRegisterLog in
“My Amelia, I’ve missed you terribly. Tonight is worth, to me, any consequences that may come of it.” -- Espionage
For all of Miriam’s beauty and natural poise, her severity was unmatched. -- Glow
PEOPLE VS. OUR CREATOR "We create our gods, not the other way around." -- Clockwork Horrorshow's Unjust -Injustice for All-
"You're dead, Julia." -- Quarantine
“I almost forgot which one you were, girr.” -- The Mannequin Diaries

Share | 
 

 Six

View previous topic View next topic Go down 
AuthorMessage
Scottie Elisabeth
Admin
avatar

Female Age : 24
Posts : 519
Location : England

PostSubject: Six    Sat Jan 07, 2017 1:22 am

To my relief, Miriam did not follow up my sudden departure with a phone call, a text, or anything else. Yet as I walked aimlessly through the streets on Miriam’s side of town, I was almost resentful. But of what?

Miriam seemed to genuinely understand. Her response was one of knowing; she was giving me space. But then, I couldn’t imagine Miriam wanting space, and part of me felt betrayed that she was leaving me alone, despite my own want to be.

And I felt even more dejected now, from Lily. She had known Sophie, she had always loved coming over after a shit day to have a beer with Sophie’s ever-delicious meals, and when Sophie’s body began failing her, Lily often showed up out-of-the-blue to check on her. I had considered her such a good friend to me, to Sophie even, and her lack of response to Sophie’s death was puzzling. She seemed startled to see me before I had even spoken. She had looked a bit rough, but what was that between us? Lily was usually so uninhibited. Could a year really change someone so much?

It was late morning now, with the sun high in the sky as it fought to penetrate the smog, to reach me, and I missed it.

In my old life, I was a trader. I was handsome and charismatic, which both drew in and destroyed my wife. The sun was on my back daily as I shifted between stalls at the outdoor markets, rotated stock, and bartered with people who never wanted to pay what my goods were worth. I smirked, bemused that even now, so many years later, I was collecting debts from the same sort of people, people that always want something for nothing.

My existence had taken me through several careers, most mildly unsavory, but nothing had satisfied me more than being a trader. And yet, I would never indulge in it again. Part of my voluntary pittance.

But oh, how I missed the sun. My natural tan had faded after so many years, and an urban life had left me much lighter, pale even. Early on, I used to camp, or hike, or wander, but I always felt guilty about enjoying the sun, as it always brought me back to my wife. And still, after all this time, I was sorry.

After hours of aimless walking, I found my stomach growling. The rice seemed so far away now and I regretted not taking it to go, but the savory smell of grease wafted past me and I realized all hope was not lost. I approached the distant burger joint with vigor, enthused for a meal in solitude. With everything going on lately, I barely found time to shower, much less eat, and that had all changed now.

When I queued up, a wave of relief washed over me from nowhere, and I suddenly felt guilty. Without Sophie, there would be no more struggling between home and work. There would be no daily check-ins or calls from nurses interrupting me. I would no longer hear her screaming for me even when I was at her side. I would no longer need to feign politeness or normalcy around the hordes of nurses that were always in and out. I was on my own again, tied to no one, and the relief was staggering. Guilt tugged at me for even considering the positives at a time like this, and yet there they were, like flashing neon lights at the end of a dark, difficult tunnel.

A minimum-wage employee interrupted my realization before I could become too lost in it. I conveyed my order, the usual from a greasy joint like this, but when I went to retrieve my wallet from my pocket, it wasn’t there. My heart was immediately in my throat as I instinctively looked on the ground behind me, just in case. But it’s never that easy, is it? I excused myself from the counter, too anxious to be disappointed, and scanned the ground as I began retracing my steps. Where had I last had it?

I closed my eyes as I tried to think. When had I last bought something? A carton of smokes a few days ago. I hadn’t bought food since. No drinks. Nothing.

No drinks. I closed my eyes, my stomach sinking. The bar.

I shoved my hands in my pockets as I made my way down the street, a new severity to my step. I begged my mind to find a more recent transaction, but it couldn’t. Had I paid at the bar though? I couldn’t remember. But I couldn’t remember not paying either, and the thought of a woman I had ripped off having my ID and all the money I had in the world was wildly intimidating.

My phone was cold in my pocket as well and as I walked, I thought about who I could call. Certainly not Lily, not that the thought would have crossed my mind before this morning anyway. Not Henry, lest he either gut me for scamming someone or encourage me to do it more to make up other lost marks. That left the only other contact I had in the world, and the thought of having to explain my indiscretion was too much of a cost. I was in it alone.


To my utter disdain, the bar was closed when I arrived. Without an hours notice posted, I had no idea if it was just too early or if it was due to the rapid aging of the barmaid, who could be the owner for all I knew. I put my face to the front glass, trying to peer through the grimy windows, but it was a lost cause. The sun was setting now and I eyed my phone clock impatiently. When do normal bars open? I paced a bit, mostly in the alley as to not rouse suspicion for hanging out near the windows of a closed establishment. But still, nothing.

I eyed my surroundings before assessing the back door. It wasn’t open but it certainly wasn’t secure, and with a little effort, I was inside. I stood near the door as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, but as soon as they did, I began scanning the floor of the main floor, then made my way to the bar. Nothing in front, or behind. Then I eyed that door, the one that specifies Staff Only, and I begged it to be there.

This door too was annoyingly locked, but luckily experience was on my side. After a bit of encouragement, it too opened and revealed the messy store room where the barmaid and I had had our encounter. I eyed the floor, and when I saw nothing, began rearranging the debris we had left. Please, please be here. But of course, it’s never that easy. I was both relieved and disappointed. At least the barmaid wouldn’t find it.

I counted my good fortunes as I closed and relocked both the staff door and the door to the outside of the bar. I turned to leave the alley just as the alarm on my phone went off, reminding me of my ‘appointment’ at 8. I rolled my eyes as I dismissed the alarm. Time for housekeeping.


When I arrived to the hall, Miriam was leaned up against the wall near the back door. An imp was with her, making her laugh, and I found myself snarling. I quickly suppressed the annoyance as I approached them both.

“Collin,” Miriam smiled, excusing herself from the conversation she no longer seemed interested in. She reached out and took my hand, passing me an envelope as she leaned up to kiss my cheek. “See you inside,” she excused once more, leaving me with the note in the streetlight. The imp looked at me annoyedly.

“Thanks for nothing,” he spat in his high-pitched voice before he followed Miriam into the building.

Like you had a chance. I rolled my eyes. Miriam was tactful. I couldn’t imagine her wasting her time on someone she couldn’t harvest from, especially someone half her height with the sort of annoying nature that could piss off even a saint.

My attention then turned to the envelope in my hand. It was small, the sort you would mail a letter in, as opposed to the large manila envelopes Miriam often handed me mark details in.

In the envelope was a folded piece of unlined paper—a note—and wrapped inside the note was an aged polaroid with two women. I had to turn toward the street light to make it out, but Miriam was clearly one of them. She had a different hairstyle, one that matched her companion, but it was Miriam all the same. Her friend was a tall, similarly-blonde bombshell, whose long arms were laced gingerly around Miriam’s shoulders from behind. On the white edge of the photo, written in ball-point pen was Peg & Mirry, Christmas 1963.

I turned to the note then, flooded with curiosity.

Collin, she began as she always did with me, and my chest tightened as I prepared for the oh-so-human insight into the succubus about whom I knew so little.

This is Margaret, but I only ever called her Peggy. She was my best friend. I met her in the summer of 1958 and I loved her unconditionally. Cancer took her in 1995 and the void is still with me every day. It doesn’t go away, but it does get easier to live with as time goes on. Rather than being sorry she’s gone, be grateful that for 70 years, Sophie made you feel like a mortal again.

I closed my eyes then to draw in a breath. Oh, Miriam. She did understand.

“Collin,” she called softly then, her voice sending shivers down my spine. I looked up to see her peeking out of the door of the building and I realized I was outside alone, the slow trickle of an arriving crowd now entirely gone. “Are you coming?”

I returned the note and photograph to the envelope as I strode toward her and, as I walked in, the meeting came to order.

I took my seat next to Miriam—Mirry? I smirked then and noticed her eyes were on me, inquisitively. I looked instead to the leader of our precinct’s demon community, a short, large-chested and booming goblin. His beard had grown since our last meeting and he was no longer sporting the straight-to-DVD Satan moustache that he had worn through the last several decades.

Though usually relatively casual, the tone of tonight’s meeting was brooding. Miriam and I seemed to be the only two in the dark, with the others in attendance focused and quiet.

“Before we get started,” the goblin called to order, settling the chatter, “I want to address the rumors—lycanthropes have not waged war as a whole.” I stole a glance at Miriam, who was trained confusedly on the goblin. War? “The attack was organized by an embittered faction of lycanthropes and a handful of demons. That said, we need to put a stop to this now.”

The details came out then. One of our own was dead—dead, dead—something lycanthropes alone couldn’t accomplish. The embittered bastards of wolves were rebelling against their forced marginalization and had a small assortment of traitorous demons on their side.

Then, as if the notice had been about the weather, the meeting turned to business as usual. Chatter picked up as it always did, and the individual sects and their respective representatives shared their grievances and desires. The goblins were tired of being framed by imps, since though their sizes were similar their mischievous natures were not. The imps complained of ‘false reports’ in an effort to not-so-subtly brag about their unsavory deeds. The nightmares were upset that people in the city were sleeping less and called for a demon request of a sandman to our precinct. The usual. I hadn’t been to a meeting in 6 months and yet they were always the same.

Finally, it was our turn.

Miriam strode to the podium, a manila folder in her hands. Was there anything in it, or was it to make her look professional? Either way, she gripped the crowd the way she gripped any crowd, the way a beautiful, intelligent woman always does, but I couldn’t focus on what she said. I was too distracted by the news. Who had died? And why did everyone else already know?

But before I had time to trail long, Miriam was being interrupted.

“For only having two members, your sect probably has the most complaints against it,” an imp interrupted and Miriam paused gracefully, though her eyes fell to me, out of frustration or desire for help, I wasn’t sure.

“With our careers,” Miriam began diplomatically, careful not to identify what exactly we did despite the fact that everyone already knew. “It’s expected that there will be complaints against us. All we can do is be as honest in our business as we possibly can be and to keep things by the book, which I am pleased to say we do without exception.” She smiled at me then and I began to sweat. Did that barmaid…?—no, surely not. She wasn’t one of us, for sure.

“There’s no way they have more reports than you lot,” an old nightmare retorted loudly from his position in the crowd.

“I wasn’t asking you, dream boy.”

“Just the other day,” the nightmare stood now, pointing his finger at the imp. “I saw you get thrown out of a restaurant for harassing the patrons.”

The imp fell out of his chair in an uncontainable giggle, the piercing sort that only their kind could muster. I cringed where I sat and I knew half of the others were doing the same. The fact that they could never keep quiet about their own misdeeds was what made imps so looked down upon. That, and their 3-foot stature.

“At any rate,” Miriam cleared her throat and the attention returned to her. “We’re doing our best and abiding by the laws we have set. If you feel we are causing a disruption, Collin and I can review our policies and try to be more discreet.” Again, her sweet smile fell on me.

She returned to me and a woman named Jinn took her place. I’d known of her for years but never spoken to her directly, but the intense look she held tonight made me gravely unsettled. She was in her human form, though I knew she was a shapeshifter of some sort, and I was always curious because she wasn’t a succubus.

“I want to bring to attention the rampant bigotry toward the lycanthropes.” Immediately, the crowd was animated with objections. My eyes kept on her, watching her pained face as she looked at everyone, looked at me, and yet looked so alone. Over the crowd, she continued, “what they’ve done is an act of desperation. Every month, they ask for representation, and every month, you deny them.”

“They aren’t demons!” an incensed goblin responded. “We are demons and they are not! We do not owe them representation!”

“They aren’t humans either!” Jinn shouted back, and for some reason the room began to quieten. Perhaps her eyes were getting to everyone. “They aren’t humans. They aren’t demons. They are marginalized and pushed to the shadows and no one even cares!” She was alive now, a flame behind her eyes as her body grew larger in her anger. “They are exploited for being poor and destitute! They are people and yet we care not when they’re relegated to underfunded housing units and housebound because they cannot afford the camo that they must wear in public.”

“If you care so much, she-wolf, you go help them!” a nightmare called, and again, the room lit up with objections toward including the species from our community. It was the same anywhere, with humans or with demons or with countries. There’s always an odd man out, and always plenty that want to keep him out. I leaned my head back in my chair, ready for the meeting to be over.

Jinn transformed then, into the woman-shaped beast that now stood before us, and she growled as she finished her statement. “If you continue this apartheid, more demons will die. I promise you that.”

The crowd got out of hand then, their roar louder than ever as she transformed into her canine shape and bolted from the crowded room. Was she involved with them, or simply bearing their warning? The room was alight with shouting and arguing until the head goblin returned to the stage, his bellowing voice silencing everyone.

“Go home,” he insisted then, and I sat up straighter, confused as to how the meeting could just end on that note. “Burn a candle for our fallen archdemon and pray he will be the last.”

Our fallen archdemon? I turned to Miriam then, her mouth agape as she returned my gaze. In the hierarchy of hell, he was directly above our kind and directly under Lucifer himself. The archdemon for our precinct was one of several elite members of hell, who served as intermediaries between Lucifer and precinct leaders like the goblin before us.

And he was dead? With all the lesser imps and goblins, even with the low-level nightmares, they had gone for someone as high up as an archdemon?

Miriam’s hand rested on my wrist then, and I realized I was staring past her. “And you were just there,” she whispered as the room cleared out around us, embittered chatter again rising.

The neighborhood had been eerily quiet, but I had chucked it up to being so early. But Lily…

Miriam was watching me intently then, but staying silent. She was trying to read me, but couldn’t with all the blanks in her knowledge of me.

“We need to lay low,” I suddenly insisted, rising to my feet quickly enough to knock Miriam’s hand from my wrist. “You said we had the week off?”

She nodded, still eyeing me, still not speaking. I tried to read her as well, where she still sat, her hands now folded in her lap. Her eyes were inquisitive but also concerned and eventually she looked away. She seemed in no rush to leave, despite the lessening crowd.

“Miriam?”

“This is just so weird,” she complained, her voice soft as she continued to look elsewhere.

I sat back down then and she looked grateful, despite not looking directly at me. “Archdemons serve a lot of precincts. A lot of districts, even. It doesn’t mean they’re focused here.”

Her eyes rose to mine then and I was sorry they did. She looked heartbroken. “You saw Jinn. It doesn’t mean they aren’t here either.”

“Lycanthropes aren’t demons,” I shrugged. “What are we even supposed to do?”

“She’s right though,” Miriam was visibly upset then, though maintaining her composure as best she could. “They’re always shoved off into the worst sections of town. They’re the only species to have to deal with camo, and the imps do make their lives harder by essentially extorting them with it.”

“But what are we supposed to do?” I reiterated, uncertain what she even wanted to hear. It wasn’t our fight. It wasn’t about us. And yet here she was, making a fuss of something neither of us had any stake in, or any control over.

“Are we just as bad?” she asked then, her voice quivering as tears began to escape her.

“What?”

“They’re the only non-human species we harvest from.”

“They’re the only non-human species to have a human life force,” I reminded her, suddenly annoyed. My rendezvous with the barmaid made me defensive and I certainly didn’t need Miriam entertaining the notion that we took any more from anyone than we had to.

“Collin—”

“Miriam!” I shouted then, and she recoiled, her expression pained. I was grateful we were alone now; the shout embarrassed even me, and Miriam went silent. “Miriam…”

“I get it,” she whispered, her eyes closed. When I touched her wrist, she pulled it away from me. Finally, she stood, and I did too, if only to stall her.

“Miriam,” I grabbed her wrist then and she finally looked at me, her eyes like knives as she willed me dead where I stood. “I just mean,” I started hushed, pulling her to me as if I were telling her a secret. “We do what we have to do. That’s all.”

Her eyes softened for a moment, but her posture remained harsh. “I said, I get it.”

I tightened my grip on her wrist, if only to refocus her on my quiet words. “If you dwell on something we have to do to survive, you’ll never be happy.”

Miriam blinked, shifting her gaze from me to the floor, then, after a few moments, back to me. “Is that what’s wrong with you?”

I smirked, and she smirked, and though I wanted to be annoyed with her, I couldn’t help but admire her. “Yes, actually.”

“I won’t then,” she promised with a sly smile. I appreciated the tone shift; sad Miriam was almost more than I could stand. But I saw in her eyes that just because the topic had changed, it didn’t mean her thoughts had. For now, though, that was enough.

“Come on.” She turned on her heel then, walking through the row of chairs to get to the aisle. “I need a drink.”

For the moments before I followed her, I watched her. Every movement of her body was fluid and intentional. She was upset, very upset, just moments before, but she could still put on the act that everything was fine. Perhaps she had gone down this path long before me and I just couldn’t read it in her. She was so mysterious, this sensual secretary, and though I had never imagined us here, I followed her for that drink.
Back to top Go down
http://tombomb.forumotion.com
Clockwork Horrorshow
Boyfriend
avatar

Female Age : 24
Posts : 256
Location : Magnolia, Arkansas

PostSubject: Re: Six    Thu Jan 12, 2017 2:00 am


Miriam seemed to genuinely understand. Her response was one of knowing; she was giving me space. But then, I couldn’t imagine Miriam wanting space, and part of me felt betrayed that she was leaving me alone, despite my own want to be. ----Don’t worry Collin. You’re being a girl right now. It’s totally normal to have these conflicting feelings. Tee hee. No jk, real people have them all the time.


It was late morning now, with the sun high in the sky as it fought to penetrate the smog, to reach me, and I missed it.----This is really nice. It actually seems to reflect his feelings.

I smirked, bemused that even now, so many years later, I was collecting debts from the same sort of people, people that always want something for nothing. ----OMFG <3 <3 <3 Love!!!!!11!!!!!


No drinks. I closed my eyes, my stomach sinking. The bar.----No way. No effing way. This is about to get really good. And I applaud how you took him from the brink of happiness with such a petty thing as losing his wallet, only to reveal that it was something much more than pettiness!

But of course, it’s never that easy. I was both relieved and disappointed. At least the barmaid wouldn’t find it. ---Unless she already has? Or maybe he left it at Miriam’s?

“Collin,” Miriam smiled, excusing herself from the conversation she no longer seemed interested in. She reached out and took my hand, passing me an envelope as she leaned up to kiss my cheek. “See you inside,” she excused once more, leaving me with the note in the streetlight. The imp looked at me annoyedly. ----I love everything about this paragraph. Literally, every word.

“Thanks for nothing,” he spat in his high-pitched voice before he followed Miriam into the building.----Ha! You’re welcome, douchebag!!!!!11!!!!!

Like you had a chance. I rolled my eyes. Miriam was tactful. I couldn’t imagine her wasting her time on someone she couldn’t harvest from, especially someone half her height with the sort of annoying nature that could piss off even a saint. ---Chuckle, chuckle, chuckle.

My attention then turned to the envelope in my hand. It was small, the sort you would mail a letter in, as opposed to the large manila envelopes Miriam often handed me mark details in.

I had to turn toward the street light to make it out, but Miriam was clearly one of them.--- One of those tiny details we’re always praising each other over. <3

Collin, she began as she always did with me, and my chest tightened as I prepared for the oh-so-human insight into the succubus about whom I knew so little. ----This is a beautiful sentence. Love.

I looked up to see her peeking out of the door of the building and I realized I was outside alone, the slow trickle of an arriving crowd now entirely gone.----I lost count of how many awesome lines there are in this chapter, but you should know, this is one as well. And Miriam’s effing picture. Tears.

I returned the note and photograph to the envelope as I strode toward her and, as I walked in, the meeting came to order.

I took my seat next to Miriam—Mirry? I smirked then and noticed her eyes were on me, inquisitively. I looked instead to the leader of our precinct’s demon community, a short, large-chested and booming goblin. His beard had grown since our last meeting and he was no longer sporting the straight-to-DVD Satan moustache that he had worn through the last several decades. ---- Chuckle, Chuckle. That’s a damn good description right there.
The details came out then. One of our own was dead—dead, dead—something lycanthropes alone couldn’t accomplish. The embittered bastards of wolves were rebelling against their forced marginalization and had a small assortment of traitorous demons on their side.-------<3 <3 “embittered bastards of wolves” Genius. Pure effing word-smithing genius.

Then, as if the notice had been about the weather, the meeting turned to business as usual. Chatter picked up as it always did, and the individual sects and their respective representatives shared their grievances and desires. The goblins were tired of being framed by imps, since though their sizes were similar their mischievous natures were not. The imps complained of ‘false reports’ in an effort to not-so-subtly brag about their unsavory deeds. The nightmares were upset that people in the city were sleeping less and called for a demon request of a sandman to our precinct. The usual. I hadn’t been to a meeting in 6 months and yet they were always the same. ---I really enjoy this summation of events. But now I’m even further intrigued to learn about all these different categories of creatures I hadn’t known existed before! They sound so cool.


“I wasn’t asking you, dream boy.” ---- More than chuckle. Best. Line. Ever. I fucking love the way these people speak to each other. “she-wolf” lol.

-----I was hoping the barmaid would come back to haunt him, but maybe later. Not to say this chapter wasn’t interesting without that event!!!11!!! I was right when I said it was about to get good. The meeting was actually really cool and informative. Suddenly, this story has a purpose other than seeing Miriam and Collin come to fruition; although that’s the only purpose I need lol. I applaud you for having a solid plot. And I totally love the universe you’re continuing to expand on. I’m certainly intrigued to see some of these creatures come into play. And who the hell is the archdemon?! I assumed it was Henry at first, but come to find def not. And, oh damn, they’re going for a drink. Is this going to be the first time they do deeds that aren’t necessity? Hmmmm.

Love, BF
!!!!!!11!!!!!!

_________________

Back to top Go down
 
Six
View previous topic View next topic Back to top 
Page 1 of 1

Permissions in this forum:You cannot reply to topics in this forum
Tombomb Productions :: Glow-
Jump to: