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A Study in Sepia

By: fauxrouge



Only eighteen hours had passed between when last I had entered this room and now. It was only under Sir's direct order that I was in there now, eyes downcast at the young woman that sat shivering on the couch in front of me.

Despite her being a disheveled mess, she was, otherwise, pretty enough. She had dressed in the way that he had liked, draped in a rich, red silk that suited her and was plunged scandalously low in the back. There were diamonds on her fingers and at her lobes, and diamonds encircling her right wrist. An exaggeration if my opinion counted for anything, but, she had clearly dressed with a purpose. From the look for her, she'd also had diamonds adorning her neck. But they were gone now. Discarded because they'd choked, or felt confining... Or removed because they had been in the way.

It seemed that she couldn't stop moving her trembling hands, rubbing feverishly at her neck, her brow, her arms and her legs. The girl was beyond scared. More along the lines of terrified out of her mind.

I didn't know her name; I didn't need to. If her name had been important enough, I would have been told by Sir upon his return home the previous evening. As it stood, Sir had told me nothing, and I refused to waste the breath it would have taken to ask.

I stood in silence and I watched her, and I could tell that it was her neck that plagued her the most. Every time she went to touch at the sensitive flesh, she would flinch, and she would recoil her hand as if it had been burned.

Immediately, my hand went to searching through the small clutch I had been carrying. I pulled out two small, white pills and sat them down on the end table nearest her. "Aspirin," I said, matter-o-factly.

The girl didn't seem to notice. And if she had, she said nothing.

Her belongings were scattered from one side of the room to the other, and I began to pick them up one at a time, slowly returning order to the room and learning more about the young woman as I went along.

A solitary tube of lipstick. Scarlet red and scarcely used. I suspected it had been used only once, and that that once had only been last night for her meeting with Sir. A compact of rouge. A white embroidered handkerchief. A lengthy strip of paper which lay unraveled across the floor. And a make-up pencil--whose color perfectly matched the scribbled words on the scattered paper. I didn't have to read her scribbling to know what it was she had been writing about. Or rather, who.

All these things I neatly returned to her own small clutch and lay it gently on the empty space of couch by her side.

"Last night, " I began. "Was that your first meeting with Sir face to face?"

Slowly, the young woman nodded. She then took a breath as if to speak, but instead said nothing.

"Hmm. And I suspect that you were fully aware of what Sir is before you met with him."

"Yes," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "For about a year now."

She took a moment to compose herself before finally raising her eyes to meet with mine. There was no fear there when she looked at me. She knew exactly what it is that I was, though there was still a question in her eye in concerns to the who. Instead, she exuded and air of curiosity and intrigue that surrounded her like a second skin. Why, she even smiled at me, or began to, as she, at long last, pulled herself upright to sit and began on the arduous task of tidying her mussed hair.

"So," she said at long last. "What will become of me?"

Plainly and simply I told her. "That is completely up to Sir." I figured that by now, the two of us were well past games of deception and deceit. At least, as far as each other were concerned. "I suppose, however, since he chose to bring you here rather than leaving you to the rats and the Reaper...that he has other plans in mind for you. More--permanent plans, as it were."

The young woman began to nod again but stopped as she remembered herself and the pain that lingered in her neck. Remembering the pills I'd sat out for her, she took them up and swallowed them. Without water or complaint.

This intrigued me.

"In all the time that I have studied you," she began to confess, "I have never heard Sir call you out by name. And, I suspect, that that was a request made recently on your part."

Now it was my turn to nod. And it was as I had expected, that this unassuming young thing was far more intelligent than Sir had given her credit for. "Paige," I said simply. "Miss Paige Turner."

In skepticism, the young woman arched a single brow. But, just as quickly, she seemed to understand and at the same time accept the terms of our association.

"Now, let's say I brief you on the rules of The Game." Turning away from her, I began on my path towards the single standing door of the room, hoping that she would need no prompting to follow. "It would be a shame to have you begin your immortality completely ignorant of the rules."

A Study In Sepia: Blameless



Blameless

"I am only going to tell you all of this once. Do you understand? I will not pause to allow you time to process, and I will not stop or allow you to ask questions. Understand that this is not a back and forth. It just is. What I will tell you here is not my rule, but Sir's rule. And you will either live by Sir's rule, or you will die.

"First. Always remember that it is your fault that you are here. It was your choice to put yourself out there and to make yourself appealing to the Monster that is Sir. It is you who sought a way to attract his attentions to yourself and to become his most ideal object of affections--For a moment in time, at least. So it stands, if anything were to go wrong, if ever it is made up in Sir's mind to be rid of you, then you have no one else to blame but yourself.

"Second. Make yourself useful. If you lose your usefulness, you lose your purpose. If you lose your purpose, you lose your life. And no matter how busy you may become, make yourself available to Sir at all times.

"Third. Sir approves of the color black. That's how it's always been, and how it forever will be. It is a color that is best associated with power, elegance, formality, evil, death and mystery. It is simplistic, unflamboyant, conservative and professional. It is also Sir's favorite color. If you must wear any color at all, wear red. But then, I suppose you already knew that, didn't you?"

A sigh.

"Right. On to the Forth thing. Your opinion does not matter. Do you understand that? Do you truly understand what I mean by that? A simple nod if you understand will suffice. Now that you are here, you are no longer the person you once were. In fact, it would be best if you went ahead and forgot all of who you were before you entered here. Who you once were is no longer your concern. Here you will be given a new epithet and will be expected to answer to it at all times." A pause, "No. No, put that away. I care naught for the contentse of your purse, put them away. No, better yet, give them to me. All of them. As of now you no longer have any use for them.

"Hmm, and be reminded that being contrite is not enough to spare you a sound thrashing if ever you find it within yourself to go against the grain here. Speak only when you are addressed, and I doubt you will have any problem with that. You've been given a gift and a privilege. Treat it as such."

Another pause, a longer one this time as her possessions were taken from her and tossed into an otherwise emptily receptacle. In an instant, everything that gave proof of who she was--was gone. Be it out of obedience or mortal fear, however, she did not object.

"Fifth and finally. I'll not sugar-coat this for you. Not really. When Sir comes to you, you are not to meet his eyes directly. You are not to speak--do not address him or verbalize your feelings or intent. Remember the Forth. You are not to speak to or address him in any way, you are simply meant to do as you are told, if at all. Got that? Refuse to heed my warning and I'll not be surprised if Sir disposes of you then and there. And even if he doesn't do away with you, what he will do will still hurt like hell. And once he is done with you--Don't look at me like that. You're not a child, and you would be wise to reflect upon the First, hmm?"

For a while the two remained silent, the each of them exchanging glances with the more learned eyes looking over the newly dressed figure for the novel flesh. Random spots of lint were plucked away and stray hairs were carefully set back into place before all was deemed perfect. Or, at least, as perfect as one could get.

The older eyes narrowed, then, their corners turned up into their own sort of smile. "You know... I recall the first times I'd been assigned to watch you. You were never without a book in hand and a pen tucked in your hair. And of all the things that you would read, I can remember some of them pertaining to such absurd subject matter--,"

Stopping himself he reached for her one last time to smooth the palm of his thumb across the lowest curve of her bottom lip. Suddenly his face was stoic again, and he seemed to be avoiding her gaze. His eyes looked everywhere save the depths of hers.

"This is not the life I would have chosen for you. Not exactly. Your kind--you... You were meant for other things. Not exactly greater things, perhaps, but--quieter, more ordinary things." For just a moment too much longer than he should have, his fingertips lingered as they brushed the backs of her hands that lay folded in her lap. He laughed then, a tone of scorn ringing in its depths. "But then, this is what you wanted, isn't it? This is what you were asking for, what you were after all along, wasn't it Paige--?"

***

I awake with an unpleasant start and to the sound of my name being called from the opposite side of my chamber doors. Bearing my teeth I pull myself upright to sit, both startled and disturbed by the fact that I had so thoughtlessly passed out sprawled like a drunkard across my couch. "Yes, I hear you. Come in!" It was more of an order than an invitation.

The face that came into the room to speak to me was painfully familiar. Familiar enough for cause me to wince unconsciously. Closing the door behind himself, we immediately took to our usual, avoiding each others' eyes as we casually exchanged words.

"The girl?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes, she's ready." Standing, I smoothed my attire with both hands, slipping my feet back into my heels with ease. "I'd taken her to her room to wait--,"

"Paige," he began to interrupt.

But I stopped him. I hadn't the time to hear him express his sentiments again. "I'll go and collect the girl." I shook my head, remembering myself. "Mori," I whispered. "I've named the girl Mori."