Page 7

“You know, I need to remark that your boss has some strange decorations in here. I’ve nevah’ seen crazy statues like these ’efore. I mean, that thing—” He points to the Narasimha statue across from him, as I stand a few paces from him. “That thing is supposed to be some bestiality or sumthin’?”

My molars grind together. Usually I am more than happy to explain my deities, but I have no patience for this man’s stupidity. I crouch down to begin tying bowline knots around his wrists and to the arms of the chair.

“Oh? I don’t know about that, miss.” Then he reaches out to attempt to touch my shoulder. I slide away gracefully with an endearing smile on my face as I disclose, “See? You just cannot keep your hands to yourself—thus, I must restrain you. It will be much more fun and exotic as well. Trust me. I’m very acquainted with this type of work.”

His eyebrows raise to his hairline, then he settles back into the seat and allows me to continue my knots. I begin to explain the statues and give a tame summary of their origins. He hums and nods as if he is paying attention, but I glance up to notice he is staring down my cleavage. Once I’ve completed, I turn and waltz to the phonograph and place Beethoven’s “Funeral March” on the platter. The tune dances across my skin as I dance toward him, making a couple pirouettes as I balance on my toes.

He chuckles in amusement as I approach him, extending my legs onto either side of him to straddle his lap once more. A fleeting thought pops into my mind as I wonder how my welcoming lunch stranger would react to my dancing. If he would welcome me onto his lap, just as I welcomed his touch in the alleyway.

The annoying man interrupts the thoughts of my stranger as I bend backward on his lap, my limbs hugging the legs of the chair.

“I nevah thought someone could dance sensually to some classical shite like that.” His voice sends irritation down my spine as I freeze in place, back bowing beneath the chair, legs tightly balanced.

I can feel his member between my legs, which plasters a frown upon my lips. Carefully, I ease up from the ground to face him, the frown still adorning my features.

“Oh? Did I say something wrong, love?”

At his words, my face goes stoic.

“Everything is really nice. I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet, yeah? You said no talking, and I keep talking because you are so pretty, and the owner letting me have you? I need to thank ’em because this is amazing, and I really would love to continue please.”

His begging makes me nauseous. My legs break contact and I retract from him. Standing between his spread, tied legs, I bend down to put my lips next to his ear.

“I am the owner.” The whispered words are low but heavy.

I can hear him audibly swallow. “Well, thank you, miss. Thank you, and I’ll be good, I swear, if we can continue now. Did I say something wrong? If I did, I won’t do it again,” he explains, as his face goes red and I swear I see tears gathering in his eyes.

“Oh, you won’t do it again?” I ask sweetly, then place either of my hands on his cheeks.

“I promise. I promise you. I’ll be a good boy.” The words rush out faster than he realizes as my hands caress the sides of his face.

“I’m pretty sure you are lying to me. I’m very certain you hurt my girl, and that you have hurt before and will hurt again. There is no room for you here upon this earth, but you will be a great sacrifice.” My words are lethal. As his eyes frantically look at me in confusion. I shove my thumbs into either of his eye sockets, digging them into his skull. He screams in agony as I writhe my thumbs to deliver as much damage as possible.

“You bitch! You fucking bitch! I’ll burn you and this fucking place down! I’ll murder all of your pathetic cunts in here!” His threat falls on deaf ears as I begin to laugh.

He tries to buck within the chair, thrashing and commencing to jostle within the ties, but there is no use.

His forcefulness brings the chair to a clatter upon the wooden floor. As he falls, I detach my thumbs from his bleeding eye sockets, then grab the back of the chair to slide him toward my statue of Kali.

“Kali is the destroyer of ego and ignorance. May your foolish soul be a fulfilling sacrifice to her spirit!” I exclaim, while shoving his head over a large brass bowl. I take out one of the razor blades I keep hidden within my stockings and slowly cut along his carotid artery. The thick liquid sprays out, pooling within the bowl as he gurgles and cries in torment.

Taking a small towel from the cabinet next to my deity, I clean off the razor blade and walk toward the window, opening it wide so the room may fill with crisp evening air. I await for my pet to arrive, hoping he was close enough to hear the window. Within fifteen minutes, my Thanatos, a large cinereous vulture, comes flying stealthily into the office.

I rescued him when he was just a nestling. He’d fallen from his nest, and his mother unfortunately never realized or returned for him, but I nurtured his body back to health, and ever since he has been my faithful companion.

“Hello, my dear Thanatos. Mommy brought you a snack.” I point in the direction of the slouched body as Thanatos’s large form stalks over to it. His large wings always make me chuckle, for they span over 2.5 meters and do not seem to fit his sleek body. The way he sharply turns his head from side to side, observing his prey, gives me a chuckle.

I hear the familiar crunch of Thanatos’s beak once it attaches to the man’s ear, ripping it clean off the side of his head. A devilish smile creeps across my face as I recognize the customary feeling this always elicits.

Justice has been delivered in the most formidable fashion.

Tossing and turning within the silken sheets, my body is restless as I review everything that transpired today. My fingertips graze along my shoulders where he, my phantom from the club, touched hours ago. The ghost of a touch branded into my skin.

I need more. More pressure. More connection.

His loneliness was palpable alongside my own. I may have friends and colleagues, but not someone I may confide in. Not a being that could be my shelter from the storms that life wails upon us.

His tone resurfaces from the confines of my mind: Your wish is my command.