Category: Fiction

By Megan Neal

            I watched her drop to her knees like somebody had stolen her bones. She knelt there with a dumb-struck look on her face, the look of a deer in the headlights on a dark, winding road. The only movement was the tears strolling down her cheek as she stared out into the oblivion. No movement. No sound. Cherry Wine paint covered her from head to toe as she held her phone close to her ear. I couldn’t tell if she was listening or just frozen. Her green eyes stood out even more as the whites of her eyes grew bloodshot. Then finally a movement, she pulled the phone away from her ear and handed it to me, she was still staring. I brought the phone up to my ear not knowing what to expect, I stood there just as silent as she was.

“Hello?” said an unfamiliar voice. “Hello…is anybody there?” I caught myself staring at the paint spreading across the floor. It looked like a scene straight out of one of those cheap corny horror movies.

“HELLO!” she shouted anxiously. I finally snapped back into reality.

“Ugh, yeah I’m here,” I stuttered back.

“Who am I speaking to and what is your relationship with Aubrey?” The lady had a very professional tone, one of a concerned doctor or something.

“My name is Chip, I’m her roommate.”

               The car ride home was very awkward. The majority of it was her crying her pretty green eyes out. You would have thought that somebody died.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said.

“What about an abor-”

“NO! I can’t, you know that,” she said, cutting me off before I could even finish my sentence. I already knew it was out of the question, but I had to make it look like I was trying to help.

“I just don’t understand how it is possible.”

“Well, you see,” I jumped in trying to lighten things up, “when two people really really like each other and they get naked…”

“That’s not funny Chip, I’m serious. I really don’t understand how it happened, me and Ryan always use a rubber.” she said with a look of confusion.

“Maybe it broke.”

“Nope, never. Even if it did I’m on the pill,” she cried shaking her head.

            Little did she know that she had actually been taking sugar pills for the last two months. She acted like her life was over, like she was going to die. I guess in a way it was for her. She had always been compulsively careful, always took extra precautions to prevent this exact situation for becoming a reality. Which is how I knew that this was the only way in.

              I remember the first day she started at work. I was mesmerized by her eyes, those pretty green eyes. I say green, but they aren’t green. The color that they are have no name, they remind me of the water, the color of the water. She is about 5’2” and weighed around 125lbs. She smells like cotton candy. She was a soccer player and had played for most of her life, even a little in college until she blew out her knee. She has killer legs and an ass that could give the Pope a hard-on. And those tits, flawless raindrop C cups. Not too big, not too small, perfectly proportioned to her athletic build. She has long, auburn hair with no freckles and an ideal golden tan, not like one of those over-baked chicken tans from the tanning salon. It was all-natural, she was all-natural. I was in love.

               It was about a year after we met that she asked to move in. I had been looking for a roommate for a while. I remember the first time I brought it up to her.  Her exact words were, “I could never live with you.” She said it with a snotty attitude, which was so weird for her because she was always so sweet. Now here she was with no other choice.

“I have no other place to go, me and Ryan,” those words made my stomach squirm.

               I hate Ryan. Me and Ryan this, me and Ryan that. I hate it whenever she mentioned his name. Ryan was Aubrey’s boyfriend. He is the typical jock with a very muscular build, six-pack, all the works. I hate him with a passion. He and I are very different people, two separate sides of the spectrum. If we were one person however, we would be the perfect man. She is in love with him, I’m in love with her, and he is in love with himself. We were just a big circle of fucked up love.

“It’s too soon for me to move in with him and I just lost my scholarship because of my knee,” she continued.

               I kind of felt sorry for her, but I still made her beg. I knew the whole time I was going to let her move in, but I liked the way it felt to have her life in the palm of my hand, her desperation gave me a rush like none other.

               They always fucked at the house, and he rarely stayed the night. I stood outside her door one night and listened to them, listened to her. I started imagining the two of us making love, me inside of her, thrusting in and out, my heart racing like a lab rat. Next thing I knew I was standing there pleasuring myself, pretending I was in his place until she moaned his name. Then all those feelings of passion and love turned into hate and I just wanted to kill him, massacre him and his whole self-obsessed life. He was living my dream, my world, taking everything that I loved for granted. No one could ever love her like I could. He was all that was standing between me and her.

              My plan was perfect, flawless. At first, I thought about killing him and a few different ways of doing it. I thought first about shooting him, but I didn’t have a gun. Then I thought about slitting his throat. I couldn’t do that either, there would’ve been too much blood to clean up and a likelier chance that I would’ve been caught.  Then I realized that killing him would have caused too much attention. Not just that, but he was really the only thing keeping Aubrey here and I couldn’t let her leave. So this was the only solution. Ryan was too involved in himself to stick around for it, it wouldn’t quite fit into his lifestyle, and moving home was completely out of the question. Once her parents found out they would disown her. I knew she would be stuck with it because of how strong she was in her beliefs and morals. It was perfect, for me anyway.

         Just as I had suspected, Ryan bolted the second he heard pregnant. I knew that she would be upset, but I really didn’t care. I just couldn’t believe that my plan was starting to fall into place. He accused her of cheating on him because they always used protection. He did realize how in love she was with him and how that would have never crossed her mind. But all Ryan cared about was Ryan, football, and of course, sex. A baby didn’t fit very well into his little world. He ended their relationship just like that.

        

        The hardest part I would have to say was getting her pregnant. I knew I couldn’t leave it up to the two of them, they were too careful about it, well Aubrey was anyway. I had to get my hands dirty, and in this case, my dick wet. I couldn’t just sleep with her. If it were only that easy. I’m not her type. I had to be careful, if I got caught she would leave, not to mention the mass of charges that I could have picked up!

          I watched her routine for a few weeks until I knew it like the back of my hand. After Ryan was done plowing her, she would go straight to the restroom, pee, and then take a shower. She was so beautiful in the shower. Standing there, naked, water rolling down her face, lathered body wash all over. She was like the goddess of cleanliness. Her shampoo is what made her smell like cotton candy. I washed my pillow case with it so I can smell her while I sleep.

           It never failed, after her shower she would stroll into the kitchen, with only a towel on, and pour herself a glass of milk and then head to bed. I had already switched out her birth control for the sugar pills and I knew her ovulation schedule, so I knew when it would be a good time to plant the seed.

            The first time I put too much in her milk. Her body was completely lifeless, limp; it was like having sex with a fresh corpse, still warm and wet but motionless. I came almost instantly. The next few times were better, I lightened the dose, it looked like she was dreaming. I’m pretty sure I gave her an orgasm once. She enlightened me the next morning about her recurring dream.

“It felt so real, it was all so weird, something I’ve never felt before,” she would say.

        I tried to make myself believe that it was me she was talking about, but I knew that she was really talking about the effects of the Ketamine. I worked as a vet tech at our local veterinarian office so getting the drug wasn’t that difficult.

        I only planned on doing it a few times, just to make sure that she would get pregnant, but I couldn’t stop. The pleasure that I got from being inside her was like none other. The doses of the Ketamine started to make her nauseous in the morning, that’s when she decided to go to the doctor, she had no idea what was about to come.

        It’s been a few months since she found out. Ryan is completely out of the picture, and her parents haven’t talked to her since she told them. It’s a done deal. I had dropped a few a hints about her staying and how I would help her out, since she didn’t have anyone else. She didn’t seem to care much, she was pretty depressed. She was always sick. I think part of it was because of the pregnancy, the other part was because she was having withdrawals from the Ketamine. I had to stop giving it to her because I didn’t want to do anything to hurt our baby.

“So when do you find out if it’s a boy or a girl?” I asked her.

        I wanted a boy; I couldn’t imagine having a daughter going through what I’ve put Aubrey through. I like the names Harris and Anthony.

“A couple weeks,” she said with no excitement whatsoever.

“Have you thought of any names?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong with you Aubrey, you haven’t been–”

“I haven’t been what? Excited? Happy? Well what in the hell do you expect?” she started to get really worked up.

       Aubrey didn’t get mad very often, but when she did, she would get so mad that her hands start to shake, her face turns a color red that I’ve never seen before. Her sweet, little mouse voice grew very deep and angry.

“I’m fucking pregnant, my boyfriend has left me to deal with this by myself, my parents hate me, and I’m all alone and have no fucking place to go. I haven’t finished college yet, and I won’t be able to support this baby. I can’t find another man, no body will love me after this, look what this thing has done to my body.” She yelled pointing at her stomach. She had gained some baby weight,  she didn’t really look pregnant yet, just chubby.

“I’ll love you” I said almost in a whisper.

“Yea, I love you too, you’re a great friend and I’m sorry I’m taking this out on you, it’s not your fault,” she said having no idea what I have accomplished. She loved me in a friendly way, it hurt every time she would say it like that. I loved her, I mean I really LOVED her. I would get so aggravated that she never loved me back.

“I’ll help you take care of the baby” I said.

“I can’t put this on you; it’s not your problem.” She plopped down on the couch and put her head in hands as she started to cry.

“I really don’t mind, we can convert my office into a nursery.”

“There won’t be any need for that” she snapped back quickly.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m giving it up for adoption,” she said relieved. My heart started to grow heavy, and my eyes started to tear up.

“YOU WHAT?!” I yelled back.

“I found a couple that can’t have kids, they want to—“

“YOU CAN’T GIVE OUR BABY UP!”

        Shit! I hoped that she didn’t hear me, I don’t know how she couldn’t, at this point I had grabbed her and was yelling it in her face. She looked at me completely dumbstruck, confused.

“What did you just say?” she said so lightly, I barely heard her. She had a look of terror in her eyes, like she knew what I had done. I didn’t know what to say. I had just blown it.

“Let go of me,” I still had a tight grip on her, “you’re hurting me Chip.” I finally let her go.

“What’s with you?” she asked, still with that look of terror. “If you hate Ryan so much then why do you want to keep his baby?” She should have never said that. It reminded me of the night I was jacking off out side her door and then heard her scream HIS name. My blood boiled and I started seeing red; my knuckles turned white and my fist tight. I couldn’t stand hearing his name, it made me fucking furious. Just hearing that name coming out of her mouth disgusted me. I could have killed her, how dare she say that about my baby. I snapped.

“HA! If you only knew, you fucking slut.” I said furiously. Her green eyes grew wider than I have ever seen. “It’s not his baby,” I whispered with a creepy smile and a laugh. I watched her stumble back and look for a way out, but she was cornered.

“You remember those dreams baby, the one you said felt so real?” I said in a coy voice as went to caress her leg. “Do you remember how you woke up the next morning soaking wet with excitement because of the pleasure you got from that dream?” I pinned her shoulders up again the wall, she just stood there shaking her head, to stunned to say a word, tears rolling down her face. “That was all real sweetheart,” I leaned in close to her ear, getting a whiff of that cotton candy shampoo and whispered, “And it was all me.” Her body went lifeless like it did the first time I made love to her. She couldn’t even fight back, she was so pathetic. She tried to scream, but no one could hear her. What a selfish little bitch. All the work that I put into that plan and she thought she was just going throw it away. I couldn’t let that happen.

Her parents called once, I told them that after they had disowned her she moved away with her boyfriend because she was so upset and I hadn’t heard from them since. Everyone at work just assumed that she just ran away because she was embarrassed of her pregnancy. Ryan didn’t even skip a beat; he had a new girl friend three weeks after he broke up Aubrey. I packed some of her things up and made it look like she ran away; I guess I did a pretty good job. The cops came around a few times and asked some questions; but they never found anything.

I didn’t stick around in that town for to much longer. I bought some land out in the country a few thousand miles away from where we were; I got a pretty good price on it, the lady felt sorry for me because I was basically raising Anthony on my own.

“He is a good boy; he has his momma’s green eyes,” she said. “Poor girl, it’s a shame how badly she was injured in that car accident.” She looked at Aubrey with real sweet sad eyes, “But it’s real nice of you to take care of her, even though she strapped into that wheel chair and all.”

“Yes ma’am,” I said with my completely fake country accent, “She has some slight brain damage, but I still love her, and I know she loves me.”

By Jennifer Williams

Domino sat her head against the brick wall, a cigarette in hand.  She sucked in the thick, sweet smoke, and felt it absorb into her lungs like nymphs on parade.  She blew out again.  Fuck life, she thought, fuck it all. She felt the word “Fuck” protrude from her body filled with hate, and pass her quivering cold lips in a smoky whisper.  She imagined her family inside the funeral home all talking pointlessly, some crying, but one member did neither.  Her mother lay in an open coffin, pale and silent, with her thin bony hands setting upon her silky blue dress.  Domino flicked the butt away and stood up.  It was time.

In the room she stood.  Her heart was calm, her eyes bland and shallow.  Domino began her planned speech, “My mother really didn’t give a shit about you or anything else.  In some ways she was a bitch, in other ways an angel.  She’d hate the fact that all of you are sitting here wasting sentimentalities on her cold bony ass.  So get up!  Be gone!  Move on with your lives, whatever that may include.  Go make a million dollars.  Have children.  Get laid.  Go kill yourself for that matter, mom did and she was right to do so. But you come in here with no propriety. If you knew her you’d respect her by not showing up!  So get out of here.”  No one moved.

They watched her with ghastly pale faces and gaping mouths.  They sat there thinking in passionate frenzies.  Domino stared at the living corpses waiting edgily in their seats with growing disgust, some of their eyes equally cast upon her. With tears on her red blotchy face she stepped down from the podium and strode to the door. They watched her quietly. Reaching for the handle and gripping it tightly, she pried the door open. The cold wind made her wet face tingle. The slam behind her seemed to echo through the room of momentarily lifeless drones, then a soft voice asked in puzzlement, “I thought her mother died from lung cancer?”

A fat lady leaned over and replied, “She did.”

By Whitney Pemrick 

It was supposed to be the perfect crime…

                Wolfgang and Elvis Schneiderfellson were setting up the greatest jewel heist in history. Brussels was the scene and a popular downtown museum was the target. The reward would be enormous and make the brothers millionaires, if all goes as planned of course. Everyone in town was aware the Customs Department was receiving a fourteen carat canary yellow diamond from the French Royal Family to be added to the vault.

“You make sure you have the plans written out, ok Wolfie? We can’t afford to have anything go wrong.” Elvis gasped.

                Elvis was always the more demanding of the two. A sense of resentment had lurked deep in Wolfgang’s heart, he yearned to be the best. He was tired of his brother ordering him around so much. This would be his chance to shine, he thought.

“Don’t worry about me, brother, my side is covered.” he confirmed..

                He wanted to ask his brother how he was coming along too, but he knew Elvis would only cut him down for doubting him. Turning back around to face the blue screen in front of him, his thick rimmed glasses reflected off the monitor lighting up his structured jawbone. Wolfgang was a strapping young man, dedicated to his body, and he could be found in the gym every morning lifting weights and crunching his abs. Elvis was the type of man who never had to try. He was naturally taller than his brother, naturally smarter, and of course, much more popular with the ladies.

                However, there was one blonde little tart who had just recently caught Wolfie’s eyes on the treadmill. As she ran, her chest would rise and fall with gravity.  Almost in a trance as he lifted his weights, he would simply smile or wave as she passed him by. Wolfgang wanted more than anything for her to stop and talk to him, just once. But he was always the shy one, coming up with some excuse why he had to run somewhere, or switch machines suddenly. She was the reason for the heist. If he was rolling in money, she would find him intriguing. Maybe, just maybe.

                After a typical run early one morning, Wolfie noticed her. She had walked in right on time, as usual. This was his chance, he thought, to finally talk to her alone without interruption. All the other lug-heads were still in the locker rooms greasing up. He approached her quietly, thinking of how he would form his sentences, thinking of anything to say that wouldn’t sound stupid.

“Uh, um, good morning.” he stammered.

                She turned around, startled.

“Oh, Hello.”

“How are you this morning?” he asked.

“Oh just fine, it’s beautiful out today,” she said. She looked impatient, he was intruding.

“Yes, I took the long way around the river this morning.” he said.

“I live just on the other side of the park, that’s my usual route,” she replied.

                  This conversation was not going where Wolfgang had planned. He had to make his move, before he lost the opportunity.

“I, um, wanted to ask you something if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Ok?” she looked confused.

“Would you be interested in perhaps joining me for some coffee sometime?” stunned that he actually managed to form a whole sentence, Wolfie paused…

                 She stamped her foot for a moment, thinking. Her nose wrinkled up and she looked towards the ceiling, she was going to say no. He just knew it.

“Sure, I think that’d be nice.”

                Wolfgang had to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, so he asked one more time just for safe measure.

“Are you available this afternoon?” he asked.

“I’m actually meeting some friends later, maybe another night?” she lied.  “I’m Sophie LaMonte, by the way. What‘s your name?”

“I’m Wolfgang Schneiderfellson,” he said, shaking her hand.

 

                Introductions aside, in his mind, all Wolfgang could ponder was why she said no. She seemed attracted to him at first, and now she was making up excuses. Typical woman, never could be honest with a man she wasn’t interested in. The truth was, Sophie wasn’t who she said she was. Her real name was Jacqueline L’Coute and she was a French Customs Agent on assignment. Her boss had sent her to Brussels three months ago to make sure the museum got the diamond safely, and nothing stood in the way. Jacqueline had no idea her new friend was involved. Or how closely the two would come to each other soon enough. Jacqueline finished her routine, showered and changed, and called her associate to come meet her. They were going to the docks to make sure everything went as planned.

                As sunset approached, Wolfgang and his brother stood around the table in their basement going over the blueprints, repeatedly. Tonight was the big night. Nothing could go wrong. They couldn’t afford the consequences of the heist to fall on either mans’ shoulders. This was the heist to set them up for life. No worries, no problems anymore. Wolfgang wanted to sweep “Sophie” off her feet, and take her somewhere tropical. He also knew this was his chance to get away from his brother, once and for all.

                That was the plan, anyways.

“I won’t go back to jail, Wolf. I just won’t do it.” Elvis interrupted.

“I know brother, I got your back. No worries.”

“I hope so, ’cause you know I’ll take you down with me.” he threatened.

                Elvis was always interfering with Wolfgang’s thoughts. All he wanted was to be a grown man and live his own life, according to his rules. But instead he’d spent his whole life answering to his brother, ever since their parents died.

                Looking at the clock, Elvis started to gather his supplies and tools for the heist. Wolfgang changed into black pants, and a sweater to help disguise himself. Wiping black paint under their eyes, the two brothers put on the last of their costumes, the black stockings to hide their faces. No one would know it was the Schneiderfellson brothers committing the ultimate jewel heist. They had tied all the loose ends, and checked everything over numerous times. It was time. No going back now.

                Meanwhile, Jacqueline and her partner arrived at the docks , and began checking the shipment. The diamond had made it, safe and sound. The transport to the museum would be short, and then Jacqueline would be finished with this job. She had wanted to quit months ago, but her boss had asked for just one more assignment. After this, she could retire someplace tropical and be done with the Customs Agency forever. Soon enough, she thought.

“All clear.” she told the officer standing nearby.

“Ok, then we should get this in the van and head to the museum.” he said.

               Jacqueline and her partner put the armored box into the police van and hopped in. As soon as they began driving she had a bad gut feeling about the situation. Something just didn’t feel right.

                Pulling up to the illustrious museum , it seemed to glow in the night skyline of Brussels. Many valued art pieces, sculptures, and jewels were housed inside, and she was responsible for adding one more beautiful piece. A fourteen carat canary yellow diamond worn in the crown of the famous French queen for more than a century. Stepping out of the van, the officer unlocked the back doors and reached for the treasure box. A mere 30 feet stood between Jacqueline and her last day as a Customs Agent. She could feel the warm breeze on her face as she walked up the stairs, and could almost taste the salty air of retirement. Entering a back door near the vault, the officer went first, then Jacqueline. Her partner, Mark, had stayed out front to watch everything. Typing a password into the flashing alarm unit, the officer motioned for Jacqueline to continue with the jewel. Unlocking the vault, she walked in, ready to place the diamond and finally be done with this.

                As she put down the box, and put the jewel into its new glass home, she heard footsteps nearing the vault and they were getting closer. Turning around to investigate, the officer rushed towards her with wild eyes! He knocked her to the floor, punching her hard. He held her down. She tried fighting him off.

“Please, someone help me!” she screamed.

               There was no one in the museum, she knew that already. Who would hear her? Who could save her? Maybe she could trip an alarm, and the real police would come. She just knew she had to fight for her life.

                Walking around the corner, Wolfgang came upon the scene, his brother was on top of Jacqueline choking her. He could see the life fading out of her eyes; he was killing her!

“Stop!” he screamed.

                 Elvis stood up quickly, still straddling her lifeless body.

“What the fuck do you mean, stop?!” Elvis huffed.

“You’re killing her!” he said.

“Wasn’t that the plan? No one gets in the way, remember?”

“But, that’s just the Customs Agent, she has nothing to do with this. The plan was just to knock her out and leave her in the van.” he reminded his brother.

“She was getting too nosey, she knew something was going happen.”

                Wolfgang hadn’t stopped to recognize it was Sophie laying on the floor under his brother, until finishing his sentence.

“Oh my God.” he sunk to his knees. “It’s Sophie.”

                Elvis leaned down to get the diamond from the box, he wiped it off with his shirt, admiring the sparkle. It was more beautiful that he ever imagined. Wolfgang begged for Elvis to help him. He was too consumed with the diamond. Jacqueline was lying on the vault floor, dying more with each fading breath. Why was she here, he thought suddenly to himself. Noticing something shiny in her blouse, he reached in to discover a badge;

Agent Jacqueline L’Coute
French Customs Agent
Department of Art & Culture

                Wolfgang was devastated. The girl he’d been admiring for months had lied to him from the beginning. She was the agent they were trying to scam the whole time. Elvis grabbed his brother’s sleeve pulling him back into reality, and as they ran from the vault, he glanced down at her body; she wasn’t breathing. His heart sank from his chest, what had they done? Nobody was supposed to die. It was supposed to be the perfect crime.

By Dr. Doug Ford, Associate Professor of English

It wasn’t because of you, wife. The police asked about our home situation, and I insisted that my bad behavior did not start with the marital friction—that it had nothing to do with the fact that you sleep on the side of the bed farthest from me; that it had nothing to do with the comments about my weakening sexual stamina; that it had nothing to do with the hungry looks you give the stock boys at the grocery store, or the fact that you French-kissed Archie Smee at the Christmas party or the vibrator I found in the drawer by the bed. The police say that men who dangle their body parts in public often have these problems, but I said that it wasn’t because of you, wife.

I also said it wasn’t because of the children. The police asked about them, too. But I insisted that it had nothing to do with Betheny and the time I walked in on her with what’s-his-name and what’s-his-name’s pants around his ankles and actually found myself apologizing to them for invading their privacy. Nor would I accept that it had anything to do with Steven’s newly shaved head, nor the Nazi paraphernalia he’s started collecting, nor what I swear is a snuff film in his DVD player. Nor does it have anything to do with the facts behind Steven’s assault and battery record and the bus-boy at the restaurant he tried to stab or the obvious awkwardness when we found out that the bus-boy he stabbed was the very same what’s-his-name I found with Betheny. The police say that inadequate men often feel further disempowered when their children take the kind of action they fear to take themselves. And I told Steven it was wrong to try to stab that boy, just as I will tell him that it’s wrong to dangle your privates in public.

And it wasn’t because of Archie Smee. The police caught that name when I first mentioned it, and they looked it up. They seem to want to look up everything. But I insisted that it had nothing to do with Archie Smee, despite the fact that I caught my wife French-kissing Archie Smee at the Christmas party, the very same Archie Smee who helped found Roy, McKay, and Smee, the law firm now defending my son who arguably did what his father should have done. I said that it had nothing to do with the pretty silver car Archie Smee drives and the fact that it drove past me one day, going, I don’t know, about 80, but not so fast that I didn’t notice my wife in the passenger seat, laughing, her hand God-knows-where. That it had nothing to do with the fact that I actually found myself waving as you went by, even though you didn’t notice. The police say that men who wave at their cheating wives often dangle their body parts in public.

No, I don’t accept that.

I say it had everything to do with the food in that restaurant, the terrible dry food and the horrible pictures of Quakers all over the walls. It had everything to do with the terrible service and the fact that the waitress wore clogs I didn’t like, not to mention her funny paper hat and the funny look she gave me when I brought both of them to her attention. I don’t even need to mention the obvious rudeness behind sending the bus-boy to escort me out, the very same what’s-his-name I caught with Betheny who doesn’t seem to be aware at all that Betheny is late and who therefore deserved to have genitals waved in his face.

The police wrote that all down. No, it had nothing to do with you, wife.

By Jonelle Cetin, Elektraphrog Assistant Managerial Editor  

It had only been two days since Lucy received her package in the mail. It contained a plane ticket, a ruby ring, and a letter that read:

Your time to serve has come. Arrive at the gate at 6AM. Proper attire is required. Be prompt.

Lucy scanned the area for signs of life. She was alone at the gate. She double-checked the number on her ticket, B-6. She looked back up at the corridor; the letter B and the number six were etched into the mantle. She walked back to check the flight monitor. There were no arrivals scheduled and only a single flight departing. The destination was blank. It had to be the right one.

    Lucy took a seat near the giant window next to the corridor. She stared down the runway and counted the blue lights that marked the pilot’s path. She reached 35 when she heard footsteps coming towards her. She looked up and saw three young men all dressed in matching white oxford shirts, black pants, and slim black ties. The slate gray sky became a brilliant red that rivaled the ruby on the ring contained in the package. Lucy reached into the blank yellow envelope and positioned it on her left index finger. The light now gleamed through the window and Lucy noticed each of the men boasted a different colored gem on their tie. She thought of each man as the color he beamed. She was no longer alone; she was in the company of Blue, Green, and Yellow. They didn’t notice her.

    Lucy thought of the conversation she and her co-worker Nina had a month ago.

       “Ruby is for your first trip,” Nina said as she emptied a large pot of coffee into the sink.

The steam kissed Lucy’s cheek.

    Nina continued, “Sapphire is for the second, emerald for the third, yellow topaz for the fourth,” she paused and held up her hand, a smirk now across her pale face “Diamond is for five or more.”

       “Where exactly are these trips to?” Lucy asked.

       “They don’t tell us exactly where we are, it is usually someplace tropical, dangerous, uncharted …you know-,” Nina leaned in close to her face and whispered, “Where the savages are.”

Lucy glared back at her. She knew she ought to keep her mouth shut while she was at work.

       “I shouldn’t even be speaking to you about this. You are an outsider,” Nina said as she pulled her diamond ring off her finger and stuffed it into her pocket, “You should come to group with me sometime. People like you could use a little discipline.”

        “People like me?” Lucy replied, placing her hands on her hips.

Nina paused.

    Lucy pulled a bag of coffee off the shelf and dumped it into the grinder. She was only a second away from throwing Nina in there, too.

    Nina finally spoke up, “Well, the directionless.”

    Lucy was now holding back the laughter that tickled in her throat, “The only direction I’m headed in is home; Goodnight Nina.”

    On her walk home, Lucy imagined a room full of robots and zombies all chanting some gibberish about “the savages” and trips to nowhere, and she was supposedly the directionless one.

    Lucy was majoring in physics. She went to school when she could afford it, but that only meant 2 or 3 classes a year. Lucy was extremely intelligent and pitied people who were told what to believe like Nina. Logic is key. Emotions make people weak, unstable, easily manipulated. She didn’t need emotions, just the facts.

    Nina had nagged her for months before Lucy finally agreed to attend a meeting. Now, a month later, she was on one of the flights to nowhere. Lucy now boarded the flight with Blue, Yellow, and Green; along with various other men, women, and children. The woman wore all white dresses of the same cut. The children wore plain tee shirts, pink for the girls and blue for the boys.

    Lucy found her seat at B-6, smack between a grossly overweight man, with the body odor of a rotting ham, and a girl with hair red as the bottle of Robotussin Lucy had chugged in the restroom. She knew that the odds of the plane crashing were 1 in 11 million, but Lucy was still terrified of flying. She still didn’t know why the hell she had agreed to board this plane to nowhere, perhaps she was too curious… but everything was now turning a pretty purple color and she wasn’t too worried about it.

    When the overhead speaker barked for Lucy to buckle her safety belt, Lucy jumped out of her chair; she wondered if she’d dozed off. The flight attendants, who were dressed in perfectly ironed pencil skirts and bleach white blazers, were handing a small black box to each passenger. The overhead speaker cracked again:

“You may now open your box and place the blind fold over your eyes. This will assure your safety and the safety of the ones we save. And just a friendly reminder that conversation is strictly forbidden while we are en route.”

    Normally Lucy would of found this strange, but the syrup made her eyes droop and her ears ring; she didn’t want to converse with anyone, anyway. She dozed off once again.

The speaker boomed as the wheels touched land:

         “Welcome to Camp Cure. Under your seat you will find directions to your assigned dorm as well as the name of the officer who will be supervising you, please follow the white arrows as you exit the plane.”

    Lucy stumbled off the plane and followed the endless string of white arrows on the pavement. Lucy gripped onto a wall to steady herself as she surveyed what was before her. The base consisted of six square buildings, all white stucco. There was a large building made entirely of mirrors that stood in the center. Chills crawled up Lucy’s back.

    Lucy’s paperwork instructed her to meet with her assigned officer at Compound Six. She entered the lobby of her dorm building; he was seated at the front desk. The word OFFICER marked across his white oxford. She had seen this man before; maybe in a suit and tie with longer hair, there was just something so familiar about it all. He stood up to greet her,
“Welcome to Compound Six, you will find everything you need in here”, he said, handing her a white plastic sack. 
    Lucy nodded and took the bag. It didn’t take her long to remember him once he opened his mouth. He had this gap between his two front teeth. Lucy figured it was big enough to fit at least three other teeth in its place. His breath stunk of garlic and stale cigarettes, and his face resembled a weasel. She had definitely seen this man before. 
    Two summers prior, Lucy had an internship in Philly. She worked under one of the most prestigious chemists in the state, Dr. Wesley James. Her main duty was to bring him double lattes– no hotter than one hundred and sixty-two degrees. Dr. Wesley threw many fits so Lucy kept always kept a couple of xanax within arms reach. She must have taken a few two many of them the day she was fired, she spilt his entire latte into his lap during a lecture that a representative from some big pharmaceutical company was giving. Gap tooth guy was going on about some plant that his company had discovered off the coast of South America; which supposedly held the cure for many modern day diseases. Lucy wondered what the fuck he was doing here with the sheep. 
    Lucy decided to ignore the flashback and get some sleep. Once she found her dorm she opened up the white sack and found six sugar-like packets; the directions read:

    For optimum health, mix with one cup of water and drink each night. 

    Lucy stuffed the packets under her mattress and plopped on top of it. She had already had enough excitement for the day, and she didn’t trust that crap. Lucy woke up in the middle of the night. She hopped out of bed and peeked down the bleach-drenched halls. Everyone seemed to be asleep. She snooped around the halls in search of any doors marked private or keep out; anything that would signify secrets. Having no luck, she slipped out of Compound Six and began walking around the camp.“Hey! You!” a small voice came from the darkness.
    Lucy froze.
   “You must come- quick-they see you-they kill you.”
    Lucy could now see the voice was coming from a small brown girl on the other side of the fence.
   “Pick up that stone, I show you something-“ the little girl said, motioning towards a large stone next to the fence. 
    Lucy picked it up and before she knew it the little girl was up through the hole and standing in front of her. She grabbed Lucy’s hand and began to lead her towards the building of mirrors. 
   “Stay close to ground.” 
    Lucy crouched down and they moved swiftly through the darkness. Once they reached the building, the girl scaled the wall and removed one of the panels. It was already covered in tiny fingerprints along the edges. Lucy jumped through the open panel and was instantly engulfed by a warm, thick liquid. Lucy gasped for air and the salty syrup began filling her mouth; she was drowning in blood. Lucy reached out and felt a surface, which she followed with her hands until she emerged from the pool. She scanned the room for the girl; there were no signs of her. Lucy felt dizzy.
    She must have been out for a good couple of minutes because when she came to, the alarm was echoing through the building. Lucy got up and began to run. The main room of the building resembled any chemistry lab; there were rows of medications as far as Lucy could see. Lucy heard someone coming towards her and ducked into a long, dark hallway. The stench of burning flesh became so pungent halfway through the hallway that Lucy couldn’t breathe. There were footsteps close behind her now; she had no choice but to push ahead. She pulled her blood-drenched shirt over her face and ran straight into the room at the end of the hallway. 
    The bodies of about sixty savages hung from the ceiling, clear tubes pumping blood into the vat. There was a furnace in the center of the room for the fully drained ones. 
    Lucy woke up in a white room with her entire body strapped to a gurney, nurses were buzzing all around her with various tools. She tried to fight her way out of the ties but they cut into her even more when she struggled.
   “Calm down, Lucy, you had a pretty exciting night, it’s time for you to get some rest.”
She recognized this voice. It was Dr. James. Maybe he had come to bail her out of this mess. “Why did you hide your medication under your mattress? Lucy, it is very important that you take them you know,” he said as he gently opened her mouth and poured in one of the packets, “and we can’t have any more of this snooping around, my darling, you might get hurt.”
   “Where is the little girl?” Lucy asked.
   “I am afraid I don’t know what little girl you are talking about.” The doctor replied. 
    Lucy felt ill, as if she had drank an entire bottle of wells vodka and chased it down with curdled milk. She could barely find her voice, “I know the truth, and I will expose you,” she finally managed to mutter, spitting blood in his face. 
   “Darling, you really just need some sleep, it’s been a long night, it will all be okay in the morning,” Dr. James said stroking her matted hair. 
    Lucy thoughts began to dissolve as the packet did the same under her tongue and she drifted into sleep.