Alexiea Marshall's black heels clicked loudly on the tile floor, echoing through the hallway. She led each stride with confidence and decisiveness. Her expression was cold as if the only thing on her mind was business. Her black skirt and jacket, barely revealed her shirt, which went down just a little too low. She passed my many door, most of which housed screams and groans. She stopped at on door in particular. It was quiet inside.
She pushed the door open and stepped into the room. It was small, with a tile floor and stone wall- not to mention very poorly lit. There was a wooden table in the center, and a man sitting in the chair behind it. He was a big man with big muscles and a bloodstained apron. He didn't scare her in the least.
She gave him a look. "Wilfred Jack, I assume. Your the one that delivers the bodies, is that correct?" She tilted her head impatiently.
"Y-yes miss..." He looked nervous
"Marshall"
"Yes Mrs. Marshall. I deliver three bodies a week, and that should be on your report but, I don't go by "Wilfred Jack" anymore. Everyone just calls me the butcher."
Marshall pushed her glasses up on her nose and let out a sigh. "Thanks for the information Mr. Jack. Anyway, I'm assuming you don't know why you were summoned, so let me explain.
"One of our men came over to get some spare body parts for an experiment, but you weren't there. Instead, he found a small female child, in your custody." Marshall took pleasure in seeing the man across from her was pale white.
"Well... I needed... Some help. When she grows up, she could be just like me and help deliver-"
"I KNOW... I know you were lonely, Don't try and deny it. However, the man we sent to your home, ran logistics on the girl, and, let's just get to the point-She is exactly what we need for our next... Project. Perfect blood type, physical structure, health, she meets all the requirements. We need her alive too. I've planned to-"
"No"
Marshall peers over her glasses and glares at the butcher. "What was that?"
"You heard me," the butcher stood up, to look more intimidating. "I said, no! I'm not letting you take her. I've seen what you do to people here! I know I kill people every day, but, this kid, she's great, and, I want her to have a decent life! She's only Seven!"
Marshall, now wearing a smug expression, calmly stands up, reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a pistol, which she presses up against the butchers forehead.
"You threw away any chance that girl. Had at a normal life when you stole her right out of her own damn car." The butcher was aghast, and Marshall could tell.
"But you are right about one thing. she's great, almost perfect for our purposes. We'll be there Monday at noon to pick her up, and if you or her try to run, I'll have my men shoot you both down. Or they'll just shoot you and take the girl. Be sure to comply, because you both figuratively and literally have a gun to your head."
She lowered the gun and started to walk out of the room, when the butcher called out. "Wait!" Marshall turned her head. "Why didn't you just take her when you found her the first day." He said weakly. "Why... Why make it so painful."
Marshall, halfway out the door, in an intimidating, yet sexy pose, smirked. "Usually I'm all business, why not have a little fun once and a while."
YOU ARE READING
aLTerEd (In Progress)
ParanormalA story following a mysterious girl through her life, as she is constantly being thrown into the hands of unusual people that want to use her for their benefit. She can only seem to escape her peril through dreams, normally about her dead sister...
