Magenta Monster

Everette was starting to feel old, he was 42 and the stress of work was starting to feel like a bind, the excitement seemed to have gone. He was finding his efforts on the squash court to be ineffective too and keeping up with the kids coming straight out of college was starting to give him nightmares.

His knee twinged were he’d pulled it on the court over six weeks ago now, his hair looked dusty with grey, he noticed as he passed a shop window on the way home. He sighed, maybe his brother had been right, he was 2 years younger than Everette and had three kids and a divorce. But that sort of thing had never appealed to Everette. He was glad he’d made the decision to get a PA, the girl seemed efficient – scarily so sometimes but it was only the first few weeks and already he was finding work much easier. Her glowing bounce was making him feel even older though especially when she grinned at him.

She was too perfect and he knew he was definitely old to her, even two years ago he would have probably tried it on but he was – well middle aged he supposed – he shuddered. At his plush apartment he removed the stopper from the wine he had been diligently supping the last few nights, it was a good vintage and he feigned interest in such things He’d been on wine tasting events and everything, he knew about them but he never really felt it within. At his core he was still a snake bite and black man, his hair had been a sensible length for most of his adult life and he was beginning to regret that now.

His cream carpet was spotless, as was the white foe leather sofa, it was all so very…. what was expected. He gulped the wine, no longer caring for finesse. Slouching his hand tailored suit off he kicked the expensive pile across the room and climbed into the shower. The warm jet of water made him feel somewhat better and his thoughts turned once more to his PA, he felt a strange compulsion to impress her, this was a rare feeling for him, he had always known girls admired him, now he was worried she would see some old pervert.

That night he drank more wine, finished the bottle and another for good measure and dreamed of efficient smiles.

He awoke, slowly, some strange trill was cutting through a headache and he felt blurry, he opened his eyes to a too bright world and stars exploded in his eyes as he tried to turn over to escape the glare. Then in horror he sat up, and grabbed his phone the realisation that he had slept in, crashed down upon Everette as he pressed the answer button, ‘Hello?’

Her voice washed over him like some sort of salve, ‘I’ve canceled your morning appointments, you seemed a little under the weather yesterday and when you didn’t turn up for the Networking breakfast I though you must be ill. I waited until ten to phone… I hope that was ok?’

‘Yes… erm… thankyou,’ he said not sure quite what had happened to him, he never over slept, ever. maybe she was right and he was ill.

‘Is there anything you need? I can pop over this afternoon if you’d like?’ there was a mustiness to the voice, something seductive and he said, ‘yes please,’ without really thinking. It was only after he’d hung up with her promise to come and see him that he realised he hadn’t mentioned anything that he actually needed. He fell back asleep.

It was the door buzzer that awoke him this time, he clicked her in and then tried to hurry out of bed to make himself semi-descent but she was upon him before he barely had his dressing gown around himself.

As always she was immaculate, hair gleaming and a brightness in her eyes, she grinned at him, somehow that always made him nervous. ‘Here drink this and grab a shower!’ she said brightly passing him a litre carton of orange juice, it was slightly chilled but not tooth hurting cold. He approved and wondered if he could find it in the budget to give her a raise. She was apparently going to prepare coffee – Everette thought it best if he prepared himself, his headache had gone – just like that, as if their fingers touching had been a trigger.

He sluiced off the weariness and exited to the smell of toast and coffee. Sighing appreciatively he flopped into a chair suddenly very aware of the fact he really was not dressed but rather slinking around in a bath robe and nothing else.

She placed the food in front of him and gently ran her hand down the side of his no longer stubble worn cheek, he felt the heat of her growing within and looked up into hungry eyes. Was she really offering? Or was he dreaming this whole thing?

‘Eat,’ she coaxed gently.

He ate ravenously, the fatigue of the last few weeks still there leaden in his limbs, but her smile alone seemed to reinvigorate him.

‘Better?’ his PA purred in his ear as he put his empty coffee cup down. He nodded and smiled at her. She lent forward and started to nibble his ear, down to his throat, a sharp pain, made him sit up ridged but he was unable to move, now in that instant of paralyzing agony, the clarity of it all came to him. This was how she had come to be employed by him in the first place.

His blood sang with the pressure of her as she drank, but she was bleeding him dry. He would not forget this time, he would not… no… he slumped forward. She whispered, ‘sleep well my love,’ and licked the blood from her chin.

Posted: Thursday, May 9th, 2013 @ 10:54 am
Categories: Flash Fiction.
Subscribe to the comments feed if you like. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.