CHAPTER ONE - Sata leaves
Sitting
by her room window, that night, she could only see dark smoke coming out from
the factory across the street. She knew she was about to plan a new life as a head
huntress, hunting for him. She also knew that, as soon as she will have found him,
her life was going to change. Not only hers, you could read in her eyes it was his
life that was going to change dramatically.
It
was a night filled up with new strange feelings, the song “13 candles” performed
by “Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats” was coming out of her computer, sounding
darker than ever before. She was not sad, she felt full of energy instead, and
she seemed to know how that energy was going to be used. She took another sip
of scotch and then started tapping on the glass with her overgrown talons.
That
energy, together with alcohol, like a motherfucking caffeine drink, kept her
awake all night long. She then used her hyperactive brain to think where Julio,
her Mexican former boyfriend, could have been gone.
She
was pretty sure he was not in his country because the policia was
looking for him, and she also knew he had left South Carolina because of a few
traces he had left behind. Maybe he had gone to Alabama or Florida. She was confident
that she was going to find out.
Since
the day after she started to plan everything meticulously. She was ready to set
up a big change in her life. First thing she did was quitting her job as a
journalist at the local journal called Modern Times.
That
Monday morning, as she felt even more nervous than the night before, she put leather
gloves on to cover her claws; she didn’t know exactly why she did it, but she
was sensing something new and familiar at the same time, dealing with her nails.
She knew they will have been dangerous from that day on.
Her
gloves were way much larger than her hands’ actual size, to host her talons and
drive her car in comfort.
She
arrived at the journal few minutes before her chief. She got up the stairs,
step by step, with no hesitations. Once in her office she started collecting
all her stuff and putting it into a big card box, that’s when she realized money
spent for her home-based gym was no waste at all.
She
was happy to leave, her working place sucked and her colleagues were stupid
morons, she had always hated them, especially her chief, Rachel Cordoba, who
was unable to manage that role and who was always nervous, in a hurry, without
a man to love and any friend to rely to.
Maybe
Rachel had only been like a mirror for her, an image of a lonely, frustrated
single woman, like herself.
That
morning she had another reason to hate Rachel Cordoba, that’s because she was
of Mexican origins like that fuckin man who had left her so angry and out of
her mind.
Once
she had finished gathering her books, pens and pictures, she got into her chief’s
office room and sat by the window, with her back facing the entrance door. While
she was waiting for Rachel, she started to hear all of her colleagues talking
and entering each one his own office.
-
Hey look, someone stole all Sata’s stuff - she heard from a colleague.
“Sata”,
she hated that name colleagues had been putting to her since they had found out
her love for horror movies. Sata stood for Satan, and it was no kind action to call
her that way. She felt she was having a breakdown. Tension of waiting, urge of
leaving, the rage for people’s stupidity were pressing her. She started
clenching her fingers angrily, she stopped as soon as she realized her claws
were about to go through her thick leather gloves.
She
then sat on the white sofa Rachel Cordoba sometimes used as a bed. Sitting
there, for the first time she felt like an urge to scratch and kill, she was surprised
by that feeling and excited at the same time. She sensed she was like turning
herself into a primitive beast, a Sumerian goddess of wrath, war and pain.
Who
knows if that happened because of her increasing madness or instead that was due
to an hypothetic ancestral genetic lineage with reincarnation of a satanic
witch or demon.
She
was starting to open and close her hands rhythmically on the sofa, just like as
if she was driven by an intangible dark force, when Rachel entered.
-
What the fuck?! - her chief yelled.
-
Stay calm Rachel, I’m leaving.
-
No, you won’t. We’ve to talk right now - Rachel said firmly.
-
I ain’t got no time to talk. Gotta go.
-
I told you many times you can’t talk to me like that, who’s the master in here?
When I say you won’t go, goddam you’ll stay here and sit down, right now!
She
felt she could’ve killed Rachel if she wanted, her hatred was so big, but she
didn’t know how it happened, she sat and talked softly to her chief.
-
Alright Rachel, c’mon, what’s wrong?
-
What’s wrong?! I told you before not to wear those black clothes, not to dress
like a horny Satan’s worshipper, we’re in a respectable office, appearance is
the first thing to take care of, and the look is vital.
-
Rachel, you know no one coming here has ever seen me, I’m always stuck to that
fucking chair in my office.
-
…and that dirty way of talking and… - Rachel took a first glance at her gloves
- what the fuck are or seem those gloves?
-
If you say fuck I’ll say fuck, if you are able to wear that fucking hat, then I
can wear those gloves.
-
How you dare? Ok, Sata. At least we don’t see your ugly nails. By the way,
Sata, take it or leave it, I’ll fire you unless you won’t wear better clothes
and talk like a normal girl.
-
You are so dumb, Rachel. You’re late. How couldn’t you realize I’m here to
leave?
-
Just go, Sata, we don’t need you, we never did.
End of first chapter
Keep in touch
No comments:
Post a Comment