Desiderium

Seofontēoða

It was Halloween night and the last of the patrons had finally cleared out.

Rinsing the remaining shot glasses, the red-headed waitress hummed to the soft, upbeat tune playing from the jukebox. The music echoed through the empty restaurant, filling the usually lively place with the strum of the guitar and the beat of the bass.

Gwen, as she was called, was so engrossed in the music she did not hear the back door to the kitchen creak open. A pair of boots walked across the cheap linoleum floor, taking slow and calculated footsteps. The man they were laced upon came to a stop in front of the window that opened to the bar, watching the woman lean over the counter to wipe it down.

Gwen continued to bob her head to the beat, her red hair swaying to her movements. Her pink lips mouthed the lyrics soundlessly, blissfully unaware of the man standing just a few feet away. After finishing up in the bar, the woman pushed the swinging door and went into the kitchen. Just behind the door stood the man dressed in a plague doctor's costume, his mask peering through the small, circular window.

Tossing the rag into a bucket filled with others, she turned her attention to the nearby closet. She disappeared inside for a few seconds before coming back out with a broom and dustpan in hand.

The door had stopped swinging, coming to a complete standstill. But there was no longer anyone behind it.

"Almost done," she sighed to herself. "And then I am ready to party."

The sudden switch to a more electric, more rockish song finally caught her attention.

"What the—" She exited the kitchen and startled at the plague doctor standing in front of it.

"Hey, asshole. We're closed!" Gwen shouted to the figure staring at her.

He said nothing in response and continued to watch her.

"Look." She dropped her broom and dustpan and it crashed to the tile with a clang that vibrated through the bar. "I've dealt with assholes like you plenty of times before. So if you think you can scare me with that ridiculous mask–"

Her voice fell silent as soon as she saw the syringe in the plague doctor's hand.

"Hey, if this is some sort of prank, it isn't funny." She held her hands up in defense, her voice betraying the fear she must have felt.

And it was just those few seconds of fear freezing her in place that allowed Benjamin to close in on her.

She let out a scream before a gloved hand covered her mouth while the other hand pressed the syringe into her neck.

She didn't struggle for long, growing limp in his arms almost immediately. Yet, her mind was conscious of everything. He'd made sure it would be.

Hoisting her up, he sprawled her body over the steel prep table. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling, completely opened. The plague doctor was out of her line of vision, but he knew she could hear him rummaging through the drawers.

The drug only paralyzed her, not rendering her unconscious.

He moved back to the table, standing over her. She was looking right at him; her gaze was vacant and dead. Holding up the vegetable peeler in his gloved hand, he watched as silent tears welled up in her eyes.

Yes, it was a small response, but one that told him she was fully aware of what was happening.

Moving out of sight, the plague doctor grabbed her pale leg, stretching it out towards him. He gave one last look at the woman, seeing her tears had spilled onto her cheeks. From the other side of the door, the song had changed to one even more upbeat than the last. The screech of the electric guitar was just loud enough to mask the oncoming sounds.

With the peeler held tightly in his hand, Benjamin pressed it down across the bottom of her leg and slid it over her skin.

The woman did not even flinch.