BitaTruble
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From: Texas
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The Temp
I remember, with an almost startling clarity, the moment of my death. Perhaps that is as it should be considering it took place only a moment ago. The life I had led is already beginning to fade, to blur into a nothingness as if I never existed so I need to tell this quickly before I forget, before it ceases to matter. I was Anna. I was here. I need to say it. I need someone to know it. So old. So tired. I am ready to be dead but I was here.
I had thought that I was content though my life was certainly not what one would call interesting or eventful. Really, there had been no landmarks, no cosmic or cataclysmic events which would ever have called any sort of attention to me. I was, in actuality, rather dull. Even my death had no special significance, other than the fact that my life ended in a rather unusual way which is, of course, what you would wish to hear about now; not how I failed to live but how I managed to die in such an unexpected and abrupt manner. Perhaps, though, even that is not so unusual. There are, after all, only so many ways in which one can die.
Let me back up a few days, as tedious as doing so always is in tales such as these.
Mora came to work at the lab. She was a temp hired to fill in for an analyst going on maternity leave and, as supervisor of the graveyard shift, it was my job to introduce her to the rest of the staff and get her up to speed as quickly as possible.
Tuesday 10:00 PM. Moras first shift. I had four days left to live.
She had an appearance which was quite startling to behold considering that we lived in San Diego, a well-known location for the tanning set and 'beautiful' people. She was so very pale you see, a fact which was amplified by the thick shock of black hair falling to her waist.
Thinking back, I find it a bit odd that I had noticed her finger nails first. Not that they were so very long but that she kept them filed to a sharp point and painted with such a dark red polish it seemed as though she had dipped them in blood. I say it was odd to notice such a thing first because it was her eyes which were her most hypnotic feature. Unusually large, they were enhanced further by dark, long lashes that one would have sworn had been added individually by some Hollywood make-up artist. They were framed by highly arched brows which held something of a permanent expression of surprise. But those eyes were dead, devoid of emotion. There was nothing of pain or joy, love or hate, anticipation or desire within them. They were simply empty and I feared to look too closely at them for the mirror they might have been. They were too familiar and yet, oddly alluring. To gaze upon them too long would be to risk ones very soul within their empty depths.
The moment I met her I had wanted her as desperately as a starving babe seeks out its mothers milk. I had never felt such an attraction for another woman as I did for Mora and for the first time in my life, I actually had the desire to seduce someone. I wanted to own her, all of her. I wanted her exposed, raw and trembling before me, naked in body, spirit and mind. I wanted to discover what tormented her for only someone tortured would have eyes such as hers and I wanted to discover the source of that torment. I wanted to be her pain, her joy, her rapture, her terror. I wanted her to scream for me, cry for me and I wanted to comfort her and shield her at the same time. She would exist for me alone and the thought of it was a heady intoxicant while, at the same time, the idea terrified me. Never in my life had I entertained such thoughts. In fact, prior to meeting Mora, the very idea I could have such things dwelling in my mind would have sickened me. It was a vast contradiction and I did not understand my own desires.
It was just a fantasy. One which would never be fulfilled because I was a no one. A nothing. Mediocre, average, barely adequate. These were the words which best described me and I knew such a woman as Mora would only respond to powerful, persuassive, confident and sure, qualities I could never hope to possess.
Still...
I made excuses to stop by her desk throughout the evening, ostensibly to check on her progress and see how she was getting along with her duties. I was almost giddy every time I walked past and steeled myself not to reach out and touch the silky paleness of her skin.
Wednesday 2 AM.
I took her down to the employee lounge during the dinner break and she shared with me that she was new in town, which explained the lack of a tan, and somehow I mustered the courage to invite her out for a drink on Saturday to show her around the city and point out places of interest. Her quick acceptance took me aback although I was, of course, quite pleased. Arrangements were made for me to pick her up at her new apartment and it seemed as if the rest of the week took a lifetime to pass before we were able to clock out at the end of the week.
Saturday. 7:00 PM. Exactly one hour before my death.
I showered with an unusual meticulousness. I had never cared over much for my appearance, but tonight, of course, was different. Tonight I was to spend time with Mora, for whom I hungered, and I could not help but pay particular attention to regions of my body I had not explored for quite some time. As I recall, I actually giggled though it was probably more from nerves than anything else. The black slacks and white blouse on my slender frame were actually quite flattering though I didn´t know it. When I looked into a mirror, I couldn´t see what others saw in me which contributed to my self-esteem issues.
I stopped on the way to her apartment and splurged on an expensive bottle of wine hoping she would be pleased and when she finally opened the door to my tentative knock, she took my breath away. She wore a black, silk dress, strapless, which hung in a lazy fashion to just below her knees. A small pair of diamond stud earrings were her only adornment. She had piled her mane of hair high upon her head exposing the beauty of her long, alabastor neck. Mute, I held out the wine to her and she flashed me a smile as she took it and moved aside inviting me in.
"Would you like a glass before we go?" The question came low and throaty and I found it difficult to put one foot in front of the other to step across her threshold almost paralyzed by the mesmerizing quality of her voice. Still mute, I simply nodded and shut the door behind me as she stepped gracefully away towards an elaborate sideboard carrying the bottle with her. The back of her calf flexed with each delicate step and I imagined running my fingers lightly over that muscle while she lay prone and bound on her stomach across my bed.
"Have a seat." This was tossed lightly, casually, over her slim, bare shoulder as she got out a corkscrew and proceded to open the wine. I shook my head to rid myself of the image of her helpless beneath me and glanced around spying a large, leather couch. As I made my way to the sofa, I couldn't help but notice the elegance and taste of the decor which seemed a bit rich for someone working a temp job, but I said nothing as I took it all in while she poured each of us a portion of the wine. Her dress swirled around her knees as she turned, the hint of a smile was still on her face. "The wine will need to breath a moment."
I opened my mouth to answer but nothing came out. Had I been capable of such I am quite sure I would have blushed, but I was too old and had lived to long for such a school girl reaction. Clearing my throat, I finally managed a stutter in a high-pitched, most miserable squeak as she made her way towards me. "Y..yes, of course. We have a few .. we have time." Silently, I cursed my meekness and inability to take command.
Her hands were clasped lightly behind her back which caused her pale breasts to jut the tiniest bit forward beneath the silk of her dress. Her lips were delicately parted showing teeth small and white behind the dark red lipstick and that vein, that blasted jugular vein, was throbbing gently, mocking, calling, begging to erupt from its soft container, cool blue and decidedly delicate. I could not tear my eyes away from it. I was, truly, enthralled in that moment. The blood beneath that pale skin was her life, her inheritance and her legacy. It is the sacared link passed down from the ancient ones through the ages to us then beyond us telling the universe we were, we are, we shall always be.
"How long did you think it would be before you were found, Anna?" She enunciated each word with deliberate care and a foreboding undercurrent filled with contempt, close to hatred. She was standing directly in front of me and the tone more than the question itself, took me out of my trance.
I blinked, confused, my eyes going back to her lovely face. "Wh .. What?"
She was still smiling but the flirty lightness had been replaced by a harsh cold. "We've been hunting you for a very long time. A very long time," this almost whispered.
Then she was on me, a knee in my lap, her hand on my right shoulder and she pushing me back into the sofa before I comprehended what was happening and in the next instant, I felt the wood stab into my heart. My eyes went wide with surprise and I tried to cry out but she brought her lips to mine, silencing me with her kiss, igniting my loins at the same time even as I died. I could smell her blood. I longed to bite her, to drink her, to feed on her but it was too late. The kiss ended and her weight was off me. There it was. The Blood. Dark, red and angry as I knew it would be, as I had seen it so often, as I had caused it so often in others, seeping around the stake. A macabre piece of wooden art staining my starched, white blouse and I stared down, completely fascinated by my own death. I touched the blood and brought my fingers to my nose, inhaling the scent of it then back to my lips to taste it. Far away, I heard her tinkling laughter fading away. I tried to reach out and touch the soft warmth of her cheek with my cold, blood soaked hand but again was too late and for the first and only time in my life and death, I regretted what I was and wondered what else I might have been.
_____________________________
"Oh, so it's just like Rock, paper, scissors." He laughed. "You are the wisest woman I know."
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The Temp - 
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