Beauty and the Beasts

Chapter Three- One Hell For Another

An eerie smile crept across her face.

“Perfect,” she cooed as she pulled out a binder from a drawer. I wanted her hair to turn to hissing snakes or her teeth to sharpen to fangs, I wanted her to manifest how awful her insides were on the outside. I had seen enough horrible people in my lifetime to know one when they smiled.

“These are for you,” she came around the desk and handed it to me.  It felt almost as if she was handing me a deed with the devil. She slid the fountain pen across the top and left the room.

Opening the binder, small print stared up at me.  I didn’t know if I was expected to read all of this, or even understand it.  I slid my finger down the inked lines, trying to soak in the general meaning. I signed by the red dashes and flipped the page.

You are obligated to perform any duty a client may ask of you. The client is under contract as to not push the lines of physical violence.

My head became heavy and suddenly all I wanted to do was sleep, not sign myself over to this.

You must become whatever the client wants, to not break character at any time during the duration of the exchange.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I had to sign my name in blood at this point.

I finished, closing the binder and hoping to never see it again. Twelve months, that’s all I had to endure. I’ll save and get out, get out of Chicago completely.

Not seconds after I had closed the binder, the copper-haired woman came in.

“Excellent.  Now follow me, please.”

We walked through the hallway to the entrance, then up a grand staircase. We wound through the corridors and I felt if only the walls were made of brush, I would be winding through a labyrinth.

“This is your room,” we stopped in the doorway of a clean, white room. My chest felt lighter and I almost smiled. Never have I had a room so clean, so fresh and pure.

"This corridor is housed for the new girls, the one next to it is for ones finishing up their term."

We walked down a set of stairs and then took an elevator to a floor marked, IR.

“This is the Improvement Room,” she informed as we stepped out of the elevator and into a lab of some sort. Steel and metal gleamed at me under the harsh florescent lights. Tubes were connected to machines, and IV’s meandered in certain corners.  The smell of disinfectant and rubbing alcohol burned my throat.

I ran my fingers over a sheet on a patient table, wondering if I was in a hospital. It was only a single room, but it was vast. The complete emptiness seemed to echo back at me. Even my thoughts were too loud.

“What kind of improvement,” I almost whispered, afraid to break the sharp silence that surrounded us.

She came up behind me and put a long, thin hand on my shoulder, “you are very beautiful, but we are going to make you even more beautiful.” Her words sang and drifted on clouds of secrets and the unknown, dancing like demons.

Goose bumps snaked their way up my arms and down my spine, “you will be scheduled to meet with the doctor for your initial physical tomorrow. So, get some rest tonight.” And with that, we walked back to the elevator and to the bottom of the stairs.

“Everything in your room is yours, breakfast call will be at 8 am sharp.” I tried to suppress the freight coming up my body, and smile.

“I look forward to working with you, Jaxsion.” She turned to leave before stopping and looked over her shoulder, “Oh yes, my name is Ms. Keslow.”

I glanced down to my duffel bag waiting on the bottom step. It looked so out of place, dirt patches and obvious mistreatment screamed from the battered material. I slung it over my shoulder and made my way through the maze to my room, only getting lost twice.

After a long, scalding shower, I slid under the goose down. Lavender and Fabreez coaxed me to sleep. Tomorrow awaited and there was no sense in staying conscious until then.

I felt so peaceful, so calm and protected.

I felt ruffling from my covers and I opened my eyes. Darkness has set in completely, making me shudder at the large silhouette standing at my side, the end of the blanket in his hand.

“Get naked,” the command didn’t leave room for argument and the deep voice sent goose bumps racing over my skin.

He slowly undid his belt as he watched me slip off my night ware, small tears made their way down my cheeks. I would only cry silently, of course, that’s all I could do.

“Good girl,” his words were slow with alcohol and full of disgusting thoughts.

“Now,” he commanded, lying on top of me, forcefully entering me. “Call me daddy.”

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