Nemesis: A Love Story

TESSA

She stands stoically outside the closed steel
door. Inside people are waiting on her. She knows this. A small part recognizes this, the larger part of who she is, is fine with making them wait longer.
Her green eyes stare intently at the pealing blue paint along the frame. It annoys her. Bothers her enough that she starts to pick at  it with her bitten down to the skin nails. Picks so hard that she cuts the tip of her thumb on a rusty edge. She watches as the blood forms, spreading out across her skin. She becomes almost mesmerized by it.
Her mind flashes quickly back to a time before, also with blood, red and dripping, seemingly from every surface, dripping from parts of the ceiling, the counter tops, running down walls, across the grooves in the tiled floor.
The pristine white tiles.
Even in the grass outside.
Seeping into the dirt.
Her hand runs absentmindedly across her neck and throat. Fingers sweeping across uneven tough skin, like leather. Worn leather.
She doesn't hear the door open.
Suddenly there's a woman beside her.
She's smiling warmly and talking.
She doesn't hear a word.
She closes her eyes tight. Pressing them into blackness. Making the images disappear.
"Tessa can you hear me?"
She opens her eyes then and looks again at the smiling lady.
She has a sudden moment of wanting to slap that smile right off her face. She visualizes doing just that. Her heart races inside her chest.
She fists her hands at her sides.
"The group and I have been waiting for you. They're excited to meet you."
She nods and let's herself be lead into the room.
It's a theatre actually. A stage at the far end. Chairs piled up on either side, neat and organized. She sees a table with coffee dispensers and donuts.
Her stomach regrets the sight of them.
Her throat feels raw, like sandpaper.
The woman is still by her side. She can feel her hand on her back. She wants to shove her away, off her.
Get away!!!
She keeps her fisted hands at her sides.
She's being introduced to the others. There's 5 of them, a mix of guys and girls, all in their 20s like her she imagines.
The two girls, one looks Latin of some kind. Long curly dark hair, large lips made even larger by thick lipliner, a different colour then on her lips. Rita, is her name. Rita looks at her like she's the enemy.
That's good.
She's never been fond of friends anyway.
The other stares down at the notebook in her hand. Refusing eye contact.  Kat, is her name.
Smart.
The boys are just as welcoming. One looking her up and down like he has a chance in hell.  He smiles. Teeth are missing.
She holds in her disgust.
His mate, like an Eminem wannabe without the talent or looks.
The last male, sits a bit further away from the rest. He's leaning forward. His mop of caramel coloured hair, that perfectly goes into every direction, doesn't manage to hide his intense gaze.
He studying her. She knows this. He's trying to read her. Find her weaknesses or maybe see inside her soul.
It doesn't matter.
She stares back.
Challenge accepted.
Green versus Blue.
Fists at her sides.
If the sun could morph into a human this is who it would become.
He's stunning.
Blinding.
He's perfect.
He has the face of an angel.
But so did Lucifer.