by EchoSeven » Tue Dec 03, 2013 2:07 pm
Beetroots fingers were turning white. A nice colour really. Considering his usual, pasty complexion. If his throat is squeezed, will his face be as white?
Slowly, the pressure on Beetroots fingers lessened. Beetroot looked relieved. Ernst dabbed the side of his mouth, and inspected the blood.
"My thanks again Sir. It has been a pleasure and I wish you and your wife the very best. You will pass on my regards to my colleagues?"
Oh greet them indeed. They will know humiliation. And then shame. For they will know fear and then pain.
"Absolutely. I know they think of you warmly, and will miss you."
Warmly eh? Those cold, jealous, inane weaklings that pass as human beings? Miss me? Hardly. Putting their unwashed hands into his clean work.
Ernst slowly stood, using his hands to push up his body, to help stand erect. He slowly turned as he approached the door, and glanced back at the carpet with longing.
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It was cold. He pushed shut the window and tried to decide whether the bedsheet was responsible for the lost night's sleep. It seemed... sticky. Damp. It clung to his body, like a wet rag. He moved it to the side, seeing if that worked better. It didn't. His sweat turned cold, and somehow, a draft of cold air swept over his body. Was that even possible? He heard a tick. Some sort of clicking. What was making that noise? He listened carefully, but only heard enough of a noise for him to wonder if it was in his head or not. He heard a whisper.. Something indistinct. Then again, but he could not make out the words. Then a word came.
"Your"
It was distinct now. He sat bolt upright and flicked on the light. Nothing. He went to the bathroom to shake off the feeling, and refreshed his face with some water. He looked up into the mirror and saw someone looking right back at him. Someone that he had never seen before. Another word.
"Me"
It was not indistinct, it was not quiet, it was not whispered. It was an unholy scream which tore through his mind, and obliterated everything in its path. The fabric of his mind tore into separating shards, and each searing light burning until all was consumed.
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The coffee was good. Excellent in fact. He raised the cup to his mouth, and felt the delicate crema, like silk, flow over his tongue. He enjoyed, just for a minute, thinking about how it ended up that way. The high pressure, old copper boilers, pressing water at just the right temperature and pressure through a constricted place, to create a creamy delicate silky drink, which could be enjoyed. His thoughts were interrupted.
"So you are in agreement, then?"
Jarrod smiled. Oh yes. Agreement there would be. There would have to be.
"I stress the need for my privacy to be respected."
"You'll have it."
"I set my hours. Flexibility!" he lectured.
"That is the agreement. Providing the work is completed."
"No... regardless of whether the work is being completed" he corrected.
"And I won't be disturbed either" Jarrod stated firmly.
"Not unless you ask to be then."
"Very well. I accept."
"Excellent. I suggest you look at the schematics of the drive to start with. That will give you a baseline to work with when you move to the harmonic distortion we are experiencing in the resonant grid."
He took his time, and slowly lifted the cup to his mouth, taking another sip. He ever so slightly failed to place it dead center on the saucer. That annoyed him, though of course, he knew it was not the slight tremor in his hand that bothered him as much that the company had just now, again, violated the terms of the agreement he had only moments ago negotiated. And every fiber of his being were letting him know it.
"I would remind you, Mr. Daniels, that the nature of the work is not be discussed with me by this channel." Jarrod raised his eyes.
"My terms are specific." he continued.
Jarrod knew the type. He wanted to test him. See whether or not he meant what he said. If he failed the test, the corporation would only be too pleased to 'renegotiate' the terms down the track, in a way that favoured them of course. He would not allow that to happen. He must remain in control of this discussion. At the same time, he knew that he could not allow this to continue much longer. Jarrod felt his pulse accelerate. This needed to end. Quickly.
"Yes.. Yes they are..." Mr. Daniels stated thoughtfully. Slowly, Mr. Daniels smiled. Apparently, he had learned what he wanted. And that bothered Jarrod.
"Well, thank you then Mr. Harkins. We appreciate your talent."
The proverbial handshake with the devil then took place, and Jarrod sat down slowly in his chair, focusing his eyes on the clean, white tablecloth and the reflections on the silver cutlery before him. He heaved a sigh.
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"More coffee Sir?" the waitress asked.
The man looked up at her, scowled and shoved the now empty cup towards her, spilling what remained over the white tablecloth.
"Bloody Disgusting stuff. Keep it."
He stood up and shoved the chair back under the table.
The waitress shook her head and collected the cup. The tablecloth would have to be replaced too now.
She placed the cup into the tray with the others. A slight smear of blood marred the white cup.
Got Parts, Jarrod, Charr, Mac and [others]
System Echo Seven