A young woman fresh out of collage fastens up her undergarments and looks into the mirror in the Men’s Room for any signs of cocaine residue on her pretty face as the one behind her helps her get dressed, a skinny male twice her age that just did a few lines of the drug and bending her over the toilet in one of the stalls just moments ago.
She smiles back at him while she touches up her lipstick, the very same shade that is smeared slightly on his still erect penis. After all, his Viagra is still flowing through his racing heart fueled by the cocaine and exercise in the stall.
“Do you think that anyone heard us?” She smiled as she put on her her blouse and skirt still looking at themselves in the mirror.
“It doesn’t matter. If they want to keep their fucking jobs, they’ll keep their goddamned mouths shut.” He smiled back combing his comb-over of his greasy peppered hair. “I just wish my ole’ lady’s pussy was half as tight as yours.” He smiled once more as she put on her skirt.
“Thanks babe. If anyone does say anything to you, you will let me know?” She smiled once more in the mirror and walked out of the Men’s Room only after just opening the door enough to make sure the small hallway between the Men’s and Women’s room was clear of any witnesses before she heads out to the main door of both the facilities intro an office. There she could see large windows and below them, the vast cubical. The large windows shown a blue sky almost free of chemical trails and the New York City Skyline.
If anyone realized what might have happened, they didn’t seem to care in the least. A few gophers from these cubicles have far better things to do and gossip about. An older woman walks passed her without so much as a glance. Under the influence of her cocaine and mid-morning sexcapades with her boss that is like clockwork on every Wednesday for about an hour between 10:00 AM up around to 11:00 AM. She realizes that she may be standing too long and moves off in her paranoia. This is not her floor. Her office is three floors down.
Walking along in her fashionable dark navy blue business suite and white blouse she makes it out of the large office area into another hallway leading to the door on the right marked, “Stairs.” She walks passed this door as she almost hears a cold whisper, “Don’t take the elevator.” She stops halfway in her quick New York pace on the short maroon carpet. “What? Who are you and what did you just say?” She looks around quickly to see if their is anyone there. There she finds no one and no more was said.
She then continues to turn into a larger hallway with a waiting room, chairs, small tables, and a desk where the silhouette of the woman that just passed her moments ago was now sitting under a high decorative style window where the sun was beaming in causing the younger woman to not see clearly enough. There in this end of the larger hallway, the younger woman could see several younger and more beautiful women waiting to be interviewed. Her mind flashes back no more than two years earlier when she was sitting their texting on her phone waiting to be seen next for an opportunity to work here. She glanced at them closely and thought as she pushed a button on the elevator, maybe they’re the newer models to come in and replace me as the new Office Pumps…
The elevator opens with a bell-like signal and the doors opening as the young woman walked in noticing the younger ladies were far too busy texting to even look up at her. She turns and walks in as the doors closed as she felt the air within the elevator begin to get cold.
In her pride and arrogance with the sudden pre-occupation of being replaced as the Office Pump she realizes that she is not alone in the elevator. Of course, there are security cameras, open microphones, and even an emergency phone. The dark figure startles her as she begins to realize once more about the warning moments before.
The young lady becomes terrified as she realizes the phantom shadowy figure takes shape into a powerful-looking man-like entity. “Scream if you must I can assure you that no one will hear you.” His voice deeply mysterious giving cause to her petite body shaking.
“Who the fuck are you and if this is a joke then go fuck yourself!” She yells at the cloaked and hooded man. She cannot see his face, only his powerful chest and some sort of black leather and silver buckled fasteners on his inner clothing. She can then smell the odd odor of sulfur and something else that caused her slender nose to wrinkle up as her right slender trembling hand tries to cover the smell.
The phantom figure takes notice, “I am indeed sorry about the odor that surrounds me. It has been a long day for me already and yet it is not even noon. Again, I apologize. The sulfur scent will go away quickly, but as for the iron, the iron in the blood you smell, well, that’s like my calling card, that and the scent of old death, I’m afraid. Once more, my apologies.”
As he spoke, the elevator began to slow down as she turned in her controlled fear up to one of the security cameras and yelled, “Are you seeing this? Are you bastards seeing this?” She points with her left arm outstretched to the figure.
“Hey assholes, are you even watching?” Her voice raises and greeted by only silence.
“Quite the shame. You know, with all this security…” He said slowly looking up at the cameras and yet the hood covered his face from her as he continued, “False sense of security actually. You know, like a prophylactic worn by a man. Seems safe for you to suck and fuck it until the damn thing breaks and then you don’t know what you might catch…” He pauses only for another moment as she drops her left arm slowly still trembling.
“All the while the poor bastard as you so eloquently put it in regards to the security team that cannot see or hear me. You see, I am here for you, Amanda.”
She is completely engulfed in her own fear as she realizes that this is not an hallucination unless something was put into the cocaine, laced by some mind-alternating drug that turns reality into a living nightmare. Then, her boss would have digested the same thing as she attempts to reason this encounter off as just that, a hallucination.
The hood tilts a bit as if he is straining to hear or read her mind. The answer comes quickly and most shockingly as him calling her by her first name. “Oh, this isn’t a hallucination by any means. No, there wasn’t anything as some sort of element added to the already fatal toxins you took earlier. If it is any comfort at all, your boss is lying flat on his back gazing up at the dim lights of the Men’s Room. You see, he’s glaring up into the lights through the cloudy lenses of death. They’ll write it off as a drug overdose of cocaine, mixed with his Viagra leading to his sudden heart attack.”
She gasps and then screams.
“Shut the fuck up!” He reaches out with his leathered black hand and formed a tight fist that chokes her from across the room without physically putting his hand on her throat and windpipe. Yet she can feel the cold death-grip as the temperature in the elevator drops enough to see her own heavy breath.
He lifts her off of her feet by raising his left tightly fisted hand and arm up. Her body rises as she begins to kick her feet as one of her high heel shoes falls aimlessly to the elevator’s floor.
“Why is it that the security have not yet responded. This must be a burning question in your mind, right?” He drops his release as she falls to the floor gasping for air.
“I am the Black Reaper, the Devil’s own Reaper. I come to collect all that it is his and none other. I never guise myself like some old dear friend or relative to come to collect those that are marked, those that are already damned to hell.”
Amanda looks up at him still standing their in the corner. She has no strength to lift her shaking body up from the floor. Her thoughts turn to only these final moments.
“Wondering what you may have done so wrong? Maybe you’re wondering if you made some deal with the Devil you don’t or can’t remember?” He pauses for a response but gets nothing as her eyes struggle on the floor darting back and forth as he, the Black Reaper is already in her head.
“No, it’s not the hump and dump weekly games that brought you here to me, but it helps. Your shitty rat-fucking drug inducing games every Wednesday did not call in your marker sort of speak. No, it was something you’ve said when you were alone some time ago in your car after you killed your fiancé. Yeah, that rat-bastard always sneaking around and thinking he always had the upper hand to everyone and everything. What was it Amanda that drove you to brutally murder him some thirty-six times with that hunting knife you stolen from your friend? Surely it had to be something that brought you over the edge and consequently, threw him over the edge in South Dakota.” She can almost make out the Black Reaper’s voice becoming saturated by this egregious act of cold-blooded murder as these events were being played back in her mind. These thoughts buried so deep that she practically would forget now and then.
So, you chucked poor ole’ Toby off into the sweet bye and bye down an old air shaft to an ancient mine far below. You waited until you heard his limp body break up on the old mine’s floor, didn’t you? I do know it has been a while.”
She was replaying everything in her mind. The Black Reaper is right and deeply in her head. “You then thrown the murder weapon, his computer, the one that he replaced you with while you were still with him. Shame that he grew to love that more than he ever loved you. Though, Toby always had a problem with emotions, human emotions, real feelings that lead you, that driven you to off his ass as soon as you could safely do it.” He didn’t wait for her to respond.
“So you stolen a hunting knife from that former friend of yours. What did you call him? Oh yeah, ‘that esoterical asshole.’ Yeah, I can feel the contempt in your heart to this very day. The same name you shouted out while having sex with your former fiancé in those bitch in the heat moments. That neighbor loved you only as a friend. He knew you were delusional from the start but he enjoyed your companionship as you began to use his knowledge and wisdom in things you were grasping to yet to fully understand. Then he began to work on a very dark project that caught our attention over our own sort of evil souls in government. From presidents to congressmen, to judges, and all that was connected to these child pornography and snuff sites. Oh, raping little boys and girls were not enough for these men, they had to kill them and others too. We have so many like those among us, working for us, and dulling out suffering that makes all hell weep with envy.” The Black Reaper chuckled.
“You never took into account the suffering this neighbor had to relive in his own demons, and all you wanted to do is rub it in his face by saying, ‘you take things too seriously. Really? The Black Web and the ring of hellfire around it all and that is all you can say as you desperately tried to pry into his work in helping what little good was left in government. You lifted his blade and you never felt the curse on that knife not to mention, our growing curiosity into your private life..”
Bitter tears were flowing down her face and slowly turning to ice as the elevator stopped completely. Her eyes were filled with the memories, the burning memories of it all.
“You were told by this person that when you look into evil, evil will look back into you. Yet, you paid no heed, after all, you don’t beleive in Hell, Satan, and shit like me standing before you. Yet Satan and I never stopped believing in you, Amanda…” His voice grew serious and somewhat melancholy as she felt a cold bite of metal cutting deeply through her throat from ear to ear as he dropped the very same hunting knife she stolen and used on her beloved Toby.
Choking on her own dark blood and looking horrified at the hideous sight of the weapon and her last few moments flashing before her. Amanda could hear but not see the Black Reaper as death was setting in. “Your suffering Amanda is just starting to begin. There is a whole universe of our special ones that will enjoy violating every orifice in your tight little body as like that of a well-oiled peace-pipe being passed around from one creature to another. You’ll be robbed not only of your life and soul, but driven into complete madness. As, I stated earlier in the beginning that the day is yet young but I have done and continue to do all the tasks that begs my immediate attention.
The doors quickly open up as the first responders rush in only to find Amanda lying on the floor in a dark pool of blood. They look up and around at the arches of arterial spray that looks more like grim angelic wings. A security guard just outside the elevator door exclaims, “We have her on video, we have her confession of a murder she committed and her entire suicide!”
The detectives push the overly excited security guard back just enough to give room to the medics to load her tiny and frail body on the stretcher to cover her with a white blanket already beginning to saturate with blood.
As the body of Amanda is pushed from the elevator now being controlled by the New York Homicide CSI Team, the young women that were sitting there in the waiting room screamed and were frighten by the gory sight. As one spoke ever so froth with emotion, “She just got on the elevator and closed the doors. We could all hear mumbling and then her talking about killing someone and she couldn’t live like this anymore or something.”
The older woman still behind her desk was answering questions to the detectives, “I don’t know anything much about Bonnie Bryant other than she was having a weekly affair with her boss usually in the men’s room and that is were you found Mister Mobley at? Oh, dear, Joe’s wife is going to need years of therapy over this one!”