Post by kingfaraday on Aug 25, 2017 10:42:12 GMT -6
The Agreement
ByThe masked man
The room was dark, a clean dark of polished marble and refined malice. It stood at the peak of a mountain of iron and glass, the penthouse of the illustrious Rosewood commons. The door opened with a muted hiss, masking his silent foot falls and the tender hush of his silk slacks as he strode into the room. It was open and bare, the walls dark and glistening, windows staring out into a night choked with smog. The street lights were hazy and indistinct, the stars were invisible. The silence of the room was corrupted only by a steady tap, incessant as water torture, a slow drip drop of water on metal. He turned, licking his lips hungrily. He sniffed, a sweet scent only his nose could find. There, across the room, sat a young woman, clothed in silk as black as jet, hung loosely over her perfect form. She gasped involuntarily, her perfect breasts perched lightly on her rising chest. His gaze was impossible to endure without reaction. She looked away begrudgingly. He slid across the empty expanse of the room, never removing his gaze. He was tall, and when he came at last to rest before her seated figure he seemed to tower many heights above her. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He leaned down, extending his hand as a spider would let loose a strand of its web. His slender finger tucked under her chin, lifting her face to his. She was of mythic beauty, her face pale and full, her lips red as blood, her eyes the delicate green of snake skin. She smiled nervously under the scrutiny of his black eyes. He retracted his hand, letting it drift down to hers, folded on her lap. Taking it gently, he pulled her up from the chair. She stood and immediately backed away from him, turning and walking to the other end of the room. She paused at an end table, pulling a cigarette from a silver case lying on its surface. She ducked her head to light it, and turned, wreathed in thick blue smoke.
“I can assume by your silence that you are here to discuss our agreement. Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but…”
She dragged long on the cigarette nervously.
“…I’m afraid I no longer care to do business with your employer. You can tell her that I have discovered new and better avenues, and she can consider our contract null and void.”
She looked up at him through a cloud of smoke. She dragged heavily of the cigarette several more times, then sank the butt into a small dish. She pulled another from the case and lit it. The man stood still, as if contemplating her words. At last he looked up at her and padded across the room. When within arms length he stopped, much to the comfort of the woman, who had pressed herself against the wall to avoid him. When he spoke it was with a voice as smooth and cold as a grave yard wind. His breath was sweet, but to her it seemed dangerous and impure, and with it there came a group of quiet moans, just within the range of hearing.
“Then, I must assume that you did not study your contract with the necessary diligence. If you did, I believe you would immediately see the folly in your haughty words.”
The woman sighed, looking up at him.
“I have little time for fine print.”
“Very soon you will have little time for any thing.”
He said this with a smile, exposing his teeth, yellow and long.
The woman squinted at the sight, and pulled on her third cigarette. The room was now filled with a thin grey haze.
“Well, if it is so important, tell me what the damned thing says.”
“With my mistresses usual precision, it states that if a client seeks to terminate a contract, and the afore stated agreement has not been met in whole or part, then whatever force is necessary to dissuade the client may be utilized, at the preference of the associate involved.”
He spoke mechanically, his eyes turned upward and his long hands clasped behind his back. The woman bit her lip, fear welling in her stomach. She inched along the wall, putting as much distance between them as possible. As she moved, his eyes dropped down and followed her. She stopped, freezing under his gaze. She swallowed.
“What is it you plan to do to me? This building is full of people. The alarm system is state of the art. You couldn’t get away with any thing. You can’t touch me.”
As she said this she felt reassured, and with each word her confidence mounted. By the end she laughed, a vile, jeering laugh.
“Well, I should say that my style is somewhat different from my colleagues. There are some who work with pain, some who work with bribery. There are even some who work with death itself, but I am renowned as one with a unique style, and it is for this reason I was sent to you. You see, I work with time.”
As he said this, he began pacing about her, circling her slowly.
“I am a patient man, and I have come to acutely understand the effect of time on people. Indeed, I believe it to be one of the most persuasive forces on earth. You can’t stop it, you see.”
The woman turned, following his eyes.
“What are going to do, put me in prison? This is ridiculous. I’d like you to leave.”
“Some would call it a prison, I suppose. But time for words has drawn to an end.”
With that he tightened his circle, moving with cunning speed. The woman gasped in fear, clenching her eyes closed. But when she opened them, she found herself laced in his long, strong arms, her face poised under his, their lips inches apart. She smelled the sweet smell again, this time overpowering. He leaned in, pulling her lips toward his. She tried to resist, but quailed in the strength of his eyes and breath. Their lips met, and the sweetness pervaded her mouth, sliding down her throat, filling her. She tried to squirm free, but he held her still, their lips locked. Slowly she felt the warmth of the sweet flow to every inch of her, and then, slowly, the warmth recoiled, and she felt as if something was being pulled from her. It slid back through her, up her throat and finally swirled in her mouth before disappearing into his. It left behind a dry bitter taste of dust in her mouth, and the feeling spread through her. She shook and fought, and finally he loosened his grasp. She slid from his hands and staggered back, doubling over. A tremor coursed through her as the dusty feeling spread to every corner of her body. The man licked his lips, wiping the corners of his mouth neatly, then sucking at his fingers greedily. The room poised in silence. Grey cigarette smoke hung lazily in the quiet. Then, barely audible, there came small sounds. First, there were a series of dull cracks and pops, as if something were settling. Then there was a muted hush, like skin sliding in a garment. Finally, there was a soft wheeze and a cough. The woman shifted, still doubled over. She took a step backward, and there was an arthritic pop and she moaned quietly. The man smiled. Her hair hung down, and her face was buried in her hands. She coughed again, a dry, dusty cough, muffled by her hands. Finally, she moved, letting her hands drop slowly from her face. They shook slightly, as she stretched them out before her eyes. She gasped and wheezed.
“No…no…what did…no…”
Her hands were slender, dotted with liver spots, her pale skin hanging loose and shriveled. Her knuckles were swollen and knobby, and they shook.
“What did…(cough) you do to…me?”
Her voice was soft and feeble and when she coughed her body shook. She lifted her face, her neck cracking. Her hair parted and she looked up at the man with a face withered and ruined by time. Where once there had been beauty there was now only wrinkled, sagging skin, liver spots hovering wanly in the folds and bags. Her lips were still red, the lipstick had not aged, but they stood out pathetically, and underneath the full lips had shriveled as well. She tried to stand up straight, but she found herself stooped and bent, her back aching terribly and popping with every movement. She felt her body with her ancient hands, her breasts, that had been full and swollen, were now shriveled, they hung loosely and sagged on her stomach, which had grown and now drooped in a withered paunch. Finally, her hair faded from auburn to grey, like fairies gold turned to dross. Her highlights remained, chestnut streaks hanging misplaced in grey. Her mouth ached, and exploring with her tongue she found that her teeth had vanished, leaving only empty gums. The man smiled, his smile widening and then breaking out into laughter.
“You should have read the contract, as I have said.”
She reached up at him, grasping his jacket with her knarled hands.
“I am… so old… what did you do to me… please…”
“I used the most persuasive tool at my disposal, my lady… time. Some would call it a prison, a body aged and ruined by many long years.”
“I’m sorry, please, I’m so sorry, I’ll sign, I’ll… what ever she wants, just…please, turn me back… make me young.”
She slurred her words through her toothless mouth. He pulled away in disgust, and she staggered forward, moaning in pain.
“I’m afraid what’s done is done. I have eaten your youth. It is so sweet, so delicious. As to the agreement, my mistress needs nothing from a withered old woman. You are free, in those terms.”
“No…(cough cough)… no you can’t leave… make me young, I am so… so old…please!”
She hobbled forward, her hip popping, as she wheezed and coughed.
“I’m sorry. I must be going. I will inform the staff in the lobby that the young woman in the penthouse has left, and her grandmother will be staying there now. Not that you’ll find it easy to leave this room. Oh, and about that cough. You really shouldn’t smoke as much as you do. It will catch up to you.”
Laughing uncontrollably, he slipped out the door. The woman stood in the middle of the room, wheezing in the smoky haze. She hobbled over to the window, looking at herself in the reflection in the glass. She was withered and old, no shadow of her beauty or her youth left. She wept, tears flowing over the folds of her face.
ByThe masked man
The room was dark, a clean dark of polished marble and refined malice. It stood at the peak of a mountain of iron and glass, the penthouse of the illustrious Rosewood commons. The door opened with a muted hiss, masking his silent foot falls and the tender hush of his silk slacks as he strode into the room. It was open and bare, the walls dark and glistening, windows staring out into a night choked with smog. The street lights were hazy and indistinct, the stars were invisible. The silence of the room was corrupted only by a steady tap, incessant as water torture, a slow drip drop of water on metal. He turned, licking his lips hungrily. He sniffed, a sweet scent only his nose could find. There, across the room, sat a young woman, clothed in silk as black as jet, hung loosely over her perfect form. She gasped involuntarily, her perfect breasts perched lightly on her rising chest. His gaze was impossible to endure without reaction. She looked away begrudgingly. He slid across the empty expanse of the room, never removing his gaze. He was tall, and when he came at last to rest before her seated figure he seemed to tower many heights above her. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He leaned down, extending his hand as a spider would let loose a strand of its web. His slender finger tucked under her chin, lifting her face to his. She was of mythic beauty, her face pale and full, her lips red as blood, her eyes the delicate green of snake skin. She smiled nervously under the scrutiny of his black eyes. He retracted his hand, letting it drift down to hers, folded on her lap. Taking it gently, he pulled her up from the chair. She stood and immediately backed away from him, turning and walking to the other end of the room. She paused at an end table, pulling a cigarette from a silver case lying on its surface. She ducked her head to light it, and turned, wreathed in thick blue smoke.
“I can assume by your silence that you are here to discuss our agreement. Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but…”
She dragged long on the cigarette nervously.
“…I’m afraid I no longer care to do business with your employer. You can tell her that I have discovered new and better avenues, and she can consider our contract null and void.”
She looked up at him through a cloud of smoke. She dragged heavily of the cigarette several more times, then sank the butt into a small dish. She pulled another from the case and lit it. The man stood still, as if contemplating her words. At last he looked up at her and padded across the room. When within arms length he stopped, much to the comfort of the woman, who had pressed herself against the wall to avoid him. When he spoke it was with a voice as smooth and cold as a grave yard wind. His breath was sweet, but to her it seemed dangerous and impure, and with it there came a group of quiet moans, just within the range of hearing.
“Then, I must assume that you did not study your contract with the necessary diligence. If you did, I believe you would immediately see the folly in your haughty words.”
The woman sighed, looking up at him.
“I have little time for fine print.”
“Very soon you will have little time for any thing.”
He said this with a smile, exposing his teeth, yellow and long.
The woman squinted at the sight, and pulled on her third cigarette. The room was now filled with a thin grey haze.
“Well, if it is so important, tell me what the damned thing says.”
“With my mistresses usual precision, it states that if a client seeks to terminate a contract, and the afore stated agreement has not been met in whole or part, then whatever force is necessary to dissuade the client may be utilized, at the preference of the associate involved.”
He spoke mechanically, his eyes turned upward and his long hands clasped behind his back. The woman bit her lip, fear welling in her stomach. She inched along the wall, putting as much distance between them as possible. As she moved, his eyes dropped down and followed her. She stopped, freezing under his gaze. She swallowed.
“What is it you plan to do to me? This building is full of people. The alarm system is state of the art. You couldn’t get away with any thing. You can’t touch me.”
As she said this she felt reassured, and with each word her confidence mounted. By the end she laughed, a vile, jeering laugh.
“Well, I should say that my style is somewhat different from my colleagues. There are some who work with pain, some who work with bribery. There are even some who work with death itself, but I am renowned as one with a unique style, and it is for this reason I was sent to you. You see, I work with time.”
As he said this, he began pacing about her, circling her slowly.
“I am a patient man, and I have come to acutely understand the effect of time on people. Indeed, I believe it to be one of the most persuasive forces on earth. You can’t stop it, you see.”
The woman turned, following his eyes.
“What are going to do, put me in prison? This is ridiculous. I’d like you to leave.”
“Some would call it a prison, I suppose. But time for words has drawn to an end.”
With that he tightened his circle, moving with cunning speed. The woman gasped in fear, clenching her eyes closed. But when she opened them, she found herself laced in his long, strong arms, her face poised under his, their lips inches apart. She smelled the sweet smell again, this time overpowering. He leaned in, pulling her lips toward his. She tried to resist, but quailed in the strength of his eyes and breath. Their lips met, and the sweetness pervaded her mouth, sliding down her throat, filling her. She tried to squirm free, but he held her still, their lips locked. Slowly she felt the warmth of the sweet flow to every inch of her, and then, slowly, the warmth recoiled, and she felt as if something was being pulled from her. It slid back through her, up her throat and finally swirled in her mouth before disappearing into his. It left behind a dry bitter taste of dust in her mouth, and the feeling spread through her. She shook and fought, and finally he loosened his grasp. She slid from his hands and staggered back, doubling over. A tremor coursed through her as the dusty feeling spread to every corner of her body. The man licked his lips, wiping the corners of his mouth neatly, then sucking at his fingers greedily. The room poised in silence. Grey cigarette smoke hung lazily in the quiet. Then, barely audible, there came small sounds. First, there were a series of dull cracks and pops, as if something were settling. Then there was a muted hush, like skin sliding in a garment. Finally, there was a soft wheeze and a cough. The woman shifted, still doubled over. She took a step backward, and there was an arthritic pop and she moaned quietly. The man smiled. Her hair hung down, and her face was buried in her hands. She coughed again, a dry, dusty cough, muffled by her hands. Finally, she moved, letting her hands drop slowly from her face. They shook slightly, as she stretched them out before her eyes. She gasped and wheezed.
“No…no…what did…no…”
Her hands were slender, dotted with liver spots, her pale skin hanging loose and shriveled. Her knuckles were swollen and knobby, and they shook.
“What did…(cough) you do to…me?”
Her voice was soft and feeble and when she coughed her body shook. She lifted her face, her neck cracking. Her hair parted and she looked up at the man with a face withered and ruined by time. Where once there had been beauty there was now only wrinkled, sagging skin, liver spots hovering wanly in the folds and bags. Her lips were still red, the lipstick had not aged, but they stood out pathetically, and underneath the full lips had shriveled as well. She tried to stand up straight, but she found herself stooped and bent, her back aching terribly and popping with every movement. She felt her body with her ancient hands, her breasts, that had been full and swollen, were now shriveled, they hung loosely and sagged on her stomach, which had grown and now drooped in a withered paunch. Finally, her hair faded from auburn to grey, like fairies gold turned to dross. Her highlights remained, chestnut streaks hanging misplaced in grey. Her mouth ached, and exploring with her tongue she found that her teeth had vanished, leaving only empty gums. The man smiled, his smile widening and then breaking out into laughter.
“You should have read the contract, as I have said.”
She reached up at him, grasping his jacket with her knarled hands.
“I am… so old… what did you do to me… please…”
“I used the most persuasive tool at my disposal, my lady… time. Some would call it a prison, a body aged and ruined by many long years.”
“I’m sorry, please, I’m so sorry, I’ll sign, I’ll… what ever she wants, just…please, turn me back… make me young.”
She slurred her words through her toothless mouth. He pulled away in disgust, and she staggered forward, moaning in pain.
“I’m afraid what’s done is done. I have eaten your youth. It is so sweet, so delicious. As to the agreement, my mistress needs nothing from a withered old woman. You are free, in those terms.”
“No…(cough cough)… no you can’t leave… make me young, I am so… so old…please!”
She hobbled forward, her hip popping, as she wheezed and coughed.
“I’m sorry. I must be going. I will inform the staff in the lobby that the young woman in the penthouse has left, and her grandmother will be staying there now. Not that you’ll find it easy to leave this room. Oh, and about that cough. You really shouldn’t smoke as much as you do. It will catch up to you.”
Laughing uncontrollably, he slipped out the door. The woman stood in the middle of the room, wheezing in the smoky haze. She hobbled over to the window, looking at herself in the reflection in the glass. She was withered and old, no shadow of her beauty or her youth left. She wept, tears flowing over the folds of her face.