The Forever

"I used to be like you."

Inside there is a smile, but the reflection of her thin lips is cold.

"I remember thinking I couldn't be anything but polite. Or courteous. Or agreeable. I remember the fear of failure, of giving offense. It crippled me. And I swallowed myself up in a shell of perfect benevolence. It was hell."

She can smell the unease wafting off the boy like perfume. It coils around her nostrils, filling her mind with a scent akin to iron or blood. An emotion so foreign to her now, but the memory always remained in this smell.

The boy flinches as she leans forward in her chair, nearly touching his nose with hers. The eyes that stare back at him are veiled. He can see nothing in them. A black void filled with the texture of an iris. But voids can be filled with much unseen. Emptiness or the unknown. Which is more terrifying? The boy takes in a deep breath to fight the nausea swelling up his throat.

"You escape hell when you overcome the fear of never getting into heaven." The words bring on a wave of adrenaline in her gut. The rolling feeling is like an electric relief to her cells. In these words are power. "You are going to die. This is a fact, and not a negotiable one. Do not sit in the dark pretending to be someone else until then." Abruptly she stands, towering over the boy still seated. How innocent he looks. Hands laced together in his lap, back straight, smooth skin...how young he is. The encounter has pricked her sentimental memories, but she owes the boy nothing. Even if she wanted to help, he would never appreciate it truly.

That is the price she pays. She is alone, since she was born until the end of time. She will blink and then this boy will be dead, an event she will never get to experience. Attaching herself to him would be futile. There isn't enough time in his life for her to teach him all that she knows...all that he could be.

There is no time anymore.

"Remember this Roman, and you will not live behind a mask." His limbs clench as the woman begins to turn. The echoing click of her heels sounds more like cannons going off, as does the beating of his heart.

Unlike hers.

"W-wait!" the words barely escape his timid lips, but the residual sound is a thunder clap to his ears. The woman stops. There is only utter silence for a moment. One heartbeat reverberates throughout the room. "What is your name?" Roman instantly regrets opening his mouth. What if that question has sealed his fate? He is going to die, she said. What if his death was to happen today? Right this moment?

The woman still has not turned around. She stands still, as though carved into shadowy marble. Roman drags his gaze along the back of her calves up to her thighs, everything clad in black. Everything slender. Her legs, her waist, her hands. Somehow, Roman is more frightened of this slip of a woman than he ever has been of any large, powerful man. Many of which have crossed his path. But no candle is held to her.

"I am Aster." She says evenly, turning her head to the side. She can see Roman out of her peripheral vision. His eyes are wide, his pale forehead is beaded with sweat. "Forget me and remember what I have said. Do you understand?"

All Roman can do is nod numbly, although he is unsure if he does indeed understand. A sudden frantic feeling begins to fill up his body. The urge to put yet another question to Aster comes to his mind. The urge is screamed at by the sliver of conscious thinking left in his brain. He must not try his chances any more. And yet...

"What are you Aster?" His fate is sealed. He is done. But he must know what will end his life.

Aster smiles. It is a slow crawling motion up her face. Then as she turns, Roman catches something in her eye. Is this the last sight he will see? This terrifying and beautiful woman smiling at him? She takes several long strides to crouch directly in front of him. She smells of jasmine...just like his sister used to.

"I am everything."

"Are you a god?"

"No sweet boy," she chuckles with a sensual low sound. "I am the Forever." Her smile curls up to reveal a set of perfect white teeth. And there, in her eyes, is a glimmer of something wild. "Remember and forget Roman." She touches the cold tip of her finger to his forehead. It is a pleasurable, delicious feeling to Roman. It spreads down his body like water dripping down a window. He is thirsty for more.

Again, Aster stands and walks away. This time, Roman fears her leaving. Will he ever see her again? There is so much...

"We will meet again someday Roman. I hope by then you will have escaped hell." As she speaks, her feet continue to carry her deeper into the darkness, towards the door. Roman hears the handle turn and knows Aster is gone.

Air floods back into his lungs with the force of a hurricane. It keeps whooshing into him. He cannot stop breathing so quickly. Something inside his chest begins to hurt like a deep ache. He cries out. This must be what shock feels like. It has finally caught up.

Gasping for air, then inhaling violently, Roman falls to the floor. His chair clatters over, but lands on something soft. He squeezes his eyes shut. Aster is gone, and any beauty has left with her. He daren't open his eyes to reality, for she isn't there. All that is left is what she has done to him. And to the twelve other men in the room.

His eyes slit open and the reality sets in.

Twelve men lay strewn across the linoleum floor, now painted with pools of deep red blood. His chair leans against a man he has known for barely a month, little more than a meat sack at this point. The others lay in the same condition. Pieces of them scattered here and there amongst the darkness of the room.

And in the center, in a pool of light cast from the last remaining light bulb, sits Roman, longing for the woman who ripped the twelve men to shreds.