A. H. Wong

Chapter Seven

 

March 5th, 2012

 

Early Afternoon

 

"Hey, kitty cat!" Janelle said, landing a hard spank on Beatrix' ass. Beatrix leaps about a foot into the air, wincing softly.

 

Beatrix whirls to face Janelle, glaring at her. "Janelle, what did you do?!"

 

Janelle raises her hands, trying to calm her down. "I just wanted to scare you, is all. And your ass looks so spankable."

 

Beatrix just shook her head, and backed away. "You really should not have done that. You really should know by now that I do NOT want to do that with you."

 

Janelle swears softly, shaking her head. "You're a bit weak, kiddo. You shouldn't be so stuck up. I wasn't going to DO anything. Just wanted to give your ass a spank, and have some fun. That's all, girlie."

 

Beatrix glared at her, before turning around. "You should know better, Janelle. You should know better. Not everyone wants to sleep with you."

 

"I-I didn't mean that I wanted to sleep with you. I just wanted to scare you."

 

"Talk to me tomorrow.. I'll be happy to talk with you then. For now, leave me the hell alone."

 

Janelle watches, silent, as Beatrix flees. As she disappears around the corner, Janelle mutters, "I-I guess....I guess there goes that option."

 

<3 <3 <3 </3

 

Mid-Afternoon

 

"You spanked her? You fool." Taylor leaned back in his desk, shaking his head. He'd known, the second that Janelle came into the room, that her problem would be with the lovely Beatrix.

 

Lovely? Did he just call her lovely?

 

No. No time to think about that now; he had to focus on Janelle.

 

Coming back to himself, he watched as Janelle nodded, and closed her eyes. "I didn't mean to freak her out. I just wanted...."

 

"To treat her the way you treat everyone else?" Taylor leaned forward, resting his elbows in front of his desk, tenting his fingers in front of him. "I hope you realize just how foolish that was, Janelle."

 

"Yeah, yeah NOW I realize it. I didn't realize she'd freak out so bad. I just wanted to tease her. I mean....She's a seventh floor girl, ain't she? So, she's got our past. She's also supposed to have our brutality-didn't you say that the killing we did destroyed all our emotions entirely?"

 

Taylor resisted the temptation to look at her in disgust. She was a fool, a jaded fool.... "Yes. Yes, I did say that. Am I correct in my belief? In several of you, yes. Janelle, your emotional capacity is entirely destroyed. Beatrix, however, has a potential for emotion that you cannot even dream of."

 

They went silent for a moment, both of them measuring the other. Before too long, Taylor was analyzing her behavior, and he could tell  when her thoughts had went to when she had attempted to seduce him. He noticed the soft shifting of her legs beneath her poofed-out skirt, and silently acknowledged the fact that she was aroused. His hands took meticulous notes while he watched her, having practiced so many times that he no longer requires looking down at the page to have careful, and meticulous, handwriting.

 

Truth be told, he had no idea whatsoever as to why she was aroused by him. It must be something to do with the challenge he posed to her.

 

Finally, Janelle broke the silence. "You sound like you're calling me a horrible person."

 

"I am not saying that, young Janelle. I'm saying that you are damaged. You have the capacity for love, in a limited way, but without serious work....You will not have the capacity that Beatrix does."

 

Janelle sighs. "I'm almost jealous of her."

 

"Don't be. Janelle, without your emotions, you will not suffer. Because she feels, she will hurt. She will hurt, and she will hurt."

 

<3 <3 <3 </3

 

Late Evening

 

Beatrix scribbles in her diary, sighing softly. Her hand was getting sore-the entries she'd written since she came had already taken up most of the diary. It was almost a good thing that she had used so little of the diary back when she was younger.

 

Her stomach rumbled.

 

"I'd...better go and see if they're still serving dinner." Beatrix says to herself, leaving her room for the first time since the incident with Janelle.

 

She pads down the empty hallway. The Agency building is surprisingly quiet-other than the occasional muttering noises coming from the residents' rooms, she heard nothing. As she went down through the floors, the Agency remained silent.

 

Moving faintly faster, she hit the first floor and darted to the cafeteria.

 

It was empty.

 

It was even empty of food. Her rumbling stomach took note of this fact with a grieving howl, and she rubbed it awkwardly.

 

Everything was...clean. The floors, the walls, the columns. The tables sparkled with cleanliness.

 

 

Footsteps behind her.

 

She turned.

 

"Hey, princess. Come say hi to Daddy."

 

A scream.

 

Wakefulness, hands on her body. A voice in her ear. Murmurs, against the sobs.

 

"Shhh, little one. Shhhh."

 

Taylor.

 

"I-I...." Sobbing, tears. Silent speech, through touch and tenderness. Hugs, warmth, soothing smiles.

 

"Shhh. It's okay, Beatrix. It's okay. I won't hurt you."

 

"I-I know you won't....How?"

 

"I heard you scream in your sleep. So I came in."

 

"W-Why....Thank you."

 

"Any time, Beatrix. Any time."

 

<3 <3 <3 </3

 

March 6th, 2012

 

Very Early Morning

 

Taylor uncurled himself from her body, sliding silently to his feet. He glanced down at her sleeping form, watching her unconsciously curl around his absence. Removing the hooded sweatshirt he was wearing, he places it upon her bed. She accepts it into her embrace, nuzzling into it. Her breathing soothed.

 

He watched her, impassionately, for another moment. He turned, left, and walked back to his room.

 

He did not get that far.

 

A fist in his face, sudden blindness. He staggered, fists forming automatically. A punch, thrown through calculation of the punch's direction. Contact--a chest, gasping breath.

 

Taylor's voice, icy: "I did not touch her."

 

"LIAR! I know you did!" Martin. A rushing charge, anger hurled out of the abyss of his betrayed voice.

 

"I..did...not. She had a nightmare. I stayed to PROTECT her." Taylor responds, his words smooth and even. Practiced, easy-he dodges every punch, one foot sliding across the floor.

 

Martin hits the ground.

 

Gasp of breath.

 

Taylor kneels, hand on his foe's chest.

 

"I. Did not. Touch her."

 

"I-I....I know you lie. I know you care about her."

 

"I do not."

 

Taylor rises to his feet, departs to his room.

 

The sounds of sobbing from inside Beatrix' room.

 

Martin goes inside.

 

He closes the door behind him.

 

The door reopens, and a hoodie lands in the hall.

 

<3 <3 <3 </3

 

Mid-Morning

 

"You're a bloody fool, Taylor. I'm going to take you off of Beatrix' case. You should NOT have stayed with her."

 

"She was screaming."

 

"A lot of residents scream."

 

"She is DIFFERENT!"

 

"That is why I'm taking you away from her."

 

"She needs me."

 

"THAT IS WHY I AM TAKING YOU OFF HER CASE. TAYLOR, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

 

"No."

 

"I WILL through you out of this place if you do not comply."

 

"I dare you."

 

"Pack your bags. Do it."

 

"No."

 

"No? Taylor, you are not welcome here if you do not comply."

 

"You are not the therapist, Master John. You do not know what is best."

 

"What's best for her, or for you?"

 

"F-For all of them, Master John."

 

"You know what? Fine. Go to your room. You can stay. I'll refer Beatrix to another therapist."

 

"She...needs...me. She is the only one who-"

 

"Has a potential for being hurt by you."

 

"I will. Not. Hurt. Her."

 

"You've grown close to her, Taylor."

 

"I have not. I will not allow myself to grow close to her."

 

"I do not have faith in you to do this, Taylor."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because I have never seen you in love before, and I do not believe it will end well."

 

"I am not in love with her. I keep trying-"

 

"To tell *yourself* that. Please, do shut up."

 

"Yes, Master." Icy tone, filled with anger.

 

"Go to your room."

 

"Yes, of course, Master. You know best, Master. OF COURSE you know best."

 

The door slides shut behind him.

 

Master John reclines in his chair, staring at the closed door. "If only I..."

 

He swallows, reaches for his mug. He glances down at the black, cold coffee. He thinks better of it, before grasping a flask from beneath his desk.

 

He untwists the cap, and pours in a clear liquid. Replacing the cap on his flask, he takes a sip, still staring at the door. "If only I understood why she, out of all of them, draws him so...."