Thursday 16 February 2012

Failed Connection by Pixie J. King - February Femmes Fatales

My, but it's a privilege for me that Pixie J. King has contributed to February Femmes Fatales this year. Pixie was 'out there' as a writer way before me and despite her tender years (she'll whack me for that) was incredibly supportive from Day 1 - all the way back in 2008/9.

Currently working incredibly hard on her A-Levels, please join me in wishing Pixie every success. To have found the time to write and submit Failed Connection, which in itself was a development of a Friday Prediction drabble entry, is astonishing.

This is a dark and disturbing tale, typical of Pixie J. King. It sings in her voice, and as always, is portrayed from a unique angle. Go Pixie...

FAILED CONNECTION

I smiled as the woman squirmed, pleading and mumbling incoherently. I circled her, like a lion to prey. My eyes locked onto hers. She tried to blink out the fear, but it was impossible. She knew. She looked away. Was my presence too much?

No.

A noise broke my concentration and I turned my attention towards the door. Through the glittering haze of smoke, I saw the woman I desired, long scarlet hair draped to one side, shadow teasing.

Something stirred in my heart at the sight of her, a dark desire fired through me. I knew she would be mine to capture, mine to devour.

‘So you came,’ I said, cool. I gestured for her to come forward.

She moved. Slow, hesitant. The sound of her stilettos echoed around the room and into my ears, like an invitation - a need.

I gazed at her, noted how every inch of her red chiffon dress coated every little curve, hugging, defining her beauty.

‘What is your price?’ she asked, fear lacing her voice.

A smile formed across my lips, the desire growing stronger. ‘What can you give me?’

‘Anything,’ she replied, desperate. ‘I have money, plenty of money.’

Money. Money wasn’t a price I considered. ‘Money is of no interest of me.’

‘What then?’

I moved closer to her, placed a firm grip around her waist, leaned close to her ear. ‘You. I want you.’

I could feel her heart beat hard against her delicate chest, blue eyes dilating in horror. I could see her latent attraction towards me, despite the figure strapped to the chair in the centre of the room, despite what I had done.

Her voice fell to a whisper. ‘And if I refuse?’

Disgusted, I let her go, pulled out a knife from my Armani jacket. ‘Then you get to put a nice long gash across your beautiful lover’s throat, then watch her bleed.’

She glanced at the knife, felt her stomach turn. Her lips pursed, her mind carefully considering the options. ‘Are you sure you won’t take money?’

I frowned. I wasn’t usually one for negotiations, or the cash, but my eyes grazed over her exquisite curves; the desire burning a hole in my heart, and it meant I could take advantage with the price. ‘If you can gather ten million before the night is out, I will release you and her. However, fail to do so, and you leave me with no choice. You will have to kill her if you won’t do as I desire with you.’

‘Ten million?’ She stared at me, eyes filled with terror. ‘Do I get a phone call?’

‘Of course,’ I rasped, pointing to the telephone on the table in the corner.

I watched as she dialled the number. She cursed under her breath when she heard that there was no connection. She glanced up; blue eyes turned a lighter hue, fear glazed over her ethereal face.

I gazed at her, my expression dark.

She turned her focus to the woman; trapped, and centre of attention in the middle of the room, bathed by the shadows. Her knuckles had turned white.

I saw the way she looked, but I couldn’t help but sneer. ‘What, no connection?’ I smiled as I poured another Disaronno, the ice clinking in my glass. I handed her the knife, flicked my eyes towards the woman, then back.

Her hand trembled. Tears began to form in her eyes like pockets of salt.

I leaned close, my breath raspy. ‘Kill her…’

_________ The End _________


Bio: Pixie is an A level student who enjoys writing anything dark, from horror to fairies, and in any length.

While completing college, Pixie writes when she can, living in the world of her three protagonists as she completes three different novels.

She dares you to enter her Realm at http://www.therealmofpixiejking.co.uk
Lily Childs is a writer of horror, esoteric, mystery and chilling fiction.

If you see her dancing outside in a thunder storm - don't try to bring her in. She's safe.