MurderMe.com (AndNich123 and boyo)

[ShadowsLitany]

Gabriel Carmichael clicked through the search results, never anything that truly answered what he wanted, search engines could give him what he wanted. An answer. To the really big question of what happens in that final moment. That question consumed him, ever since his parents death that left him with the estate, money, investments and all that he materially could want. All but the one thing that eluded him. After his parents died he secluded himself in despair, wallowing in guilt over his responsibility. Once that passed and he accepted their death he began to ask why. He was the daredevil. Gabriel raced motorbikes, base jumped, heliskiing, if there an edge of adrenaline in the sport he did it. It was what made him feel alive. Not his parents, that they died, while he continued only made him seek some deeper truth.

So far it was fruitless.

Dark eyes reflected the screen as he checked the boards, the forums on the Goth site were all about despair and death. Becoming acquainted with them while he ate and drank his guilt they offered him succor on occasion, a bit of philosophy or a slight insight on the questions that perplexed him. This time he was offered a bit more. Though the headers of the thread said it was probably a hoax there were numerous follow-up postings about what if it was true. Quite a few online personae offered themselves willingly, or for a small fee. Nothing unusual for this crowd, he thought, they worship some vague defined idea like a deity. Something that will grant a sweet oblivion, Gabriel wasn't sure if that was true, he wasn't sure about much in that realm.

The original posting took his attention, as he stared at the link Gabriel wondered, could it be?

murderme.com

Clicking the link to the site saw it was plain, there was another link on the home page to send a message. A short bit of text on the site. This was what caught the attention of the others. It appealed to him. "Get to know me, then kill me," was the gist of it. If it was real, or could it be a prank, he sat for a minute and thought. If a prank it was not that subtle. If it was real, that made him wonder. Getting to know someone, then kill them? Did he want to know that badly, about those last moments. Could he kill to know them? To see the last gasp in someone's eyes and know what it was that took his parents, but left him slim, trim and unscathed. It hadn't been a course he thought to answer the question, but nothing else had served so far.

Fingers poised above the keyboard, he watched the blinking cursor until the screen darkened and he sat in the shadows of the den for a moment. Almost communing with his new muse. "Well, it's one step closer to you," he told the dark. Speaking to whatever form he thought stalked, or watched him, from the shadows. Where some invisible hand reached out and took his parents, leaving him wanting.

Philosophers had been his companions of late and they never disappointed in giving something poignant. If University had taught him anything it was that the great questions were always asked and debated, but rarely answered. He'd delved deeply into philosophy and religions to pull him back out of his well of guilt. Back to his usual risk taking, if not reaching for ever greater risks, he still felt alive with the thrill of it all but had come no closer to understanding. The quote came to him as he looked into the dark, waiting for it to look back at him. If it ever did, Gabriel never noticed.

"If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life - and only then will I be free to become myself.

I'm interested."

Adding his email he held his finger over the mouse, with a click that sounded like a million others, no thunderous chime of some bell forged in Hell. No strikes of lightning. No sudden rain. Noting unusual, except the message on the screen.

Email Sent.

 

[AndNich123]

Plain white walls. A window sat to the right framed in a dark brown curtain. The light shining through the valance would make the color appear lighter. The air conditioner that sat inside the window was a small one, only meant to cool the one room, but it didn’t work. Typical. To the left was a small bookcase. Despite her loathing nature for reading there were books there. Some she had read. Some that didn’t even belong to her. Some that had been signed by the author. She had traveled about an hour to meet him and waited, one time, four hours in line just to have him sign her books. The television set that rested on top didn’t work. Again, typical. There was a door that led to her bathroom beside that. The far wall is where her dresser sat with an oval floor mirror beside it, and the door that led into the room was beside that. The room wasn’t overly girly or even filled. Shades of brown were the only thing that broke up the modest room. It was the perfect tribute, the perfect place for Molly Larson to spend most of her time.

She resided there with a roommate. There was no way Molly could pay all the bills of living alone on her salary. She worked at a local diner, waiting tables. There was nothing that ever stood out about the woman. Her long brown hair framed her face. When she smiled, her brown eyes would light up. Molly never considered herself model material. Though she wasn’t overweight, she wasn’t a hard body either. The only time she had ever seen the inside of a gym was when she went with her mother because she was interested in joining one. No. Molly was content to simply go to work, come home, and bury herself in her room with her laptop. That was her average day.

At work she never met a stranger, and Molly almost always smiled. There she had a wonderful time talking with her co-workers and being this person so full of life. Molly was lonely, to say the least though. Life was always so busy it left little time for friends. Most of her life was online. She loved the rare times she got to get out and go somewhere and be with her friends and family.
She lived not too far from her parents. They were getting older now. Her mom was in her 60s, and her father was in his 70s. Earlier in the year, her mother had to have major surgery. Her father was already semi-retired. Things had been tough on them. Molly gave what she could when she could, but she had her own life to take care of. They understood that, but they were always grateful for whatever help she could give them.

On this particular night, she had watched an old movie about a man offering one million dollars for one night with the man’s wife. She scoffed at the possibility. For her, if she were in the situation, she would have jumped at the chance she told her roommate who was enjoying the movie with her. They both sat opposite each other in the living room with a bowl of popcorn. Her roommate was a smart guy. He had a lot of computer knowledge and put all of that to use at the local pc repair shop. More than once he had fixed Molly’s laptop for a small fee. He liked how she cooked steaks and home fries. A small price for her baby to work. “What would you do for a million dollars,” he has asked her. “I don’t know,” she laughed. It became a game of 20 questions. They enjoyed the evening as they normally would when it was movie night.

After the movie, she retreated to her room, again, and that’s when it all began. She posted the website link and waited. Offers began to come in, but nothing really took her interest. She could tell some were hoaxes who didn’t believe her, but she was serious. Every day she would come home and take note of the growing interest and amounts offered by the various people. She actually laughed at the guy who offered his left nut. Molly had her reasons for wanting to do this. They were her reasons and hers’ alone. She was about to give up hope that anyone would take her seriously or capture her attention, that is until she clicked on her newest message. She read it over and over, leaving it onscreen and coming back to it. Finally, just before five am, after being up all night thinking about it, she replied.

“I hear the corner diner is a good place to get a hot lunch. As for the turkey on rye. It’s to die for.”

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Gabriel let the motorcycle drift into the crowd, they came close cheering him on excitedly as they clapped him on the back. Nodding to them all wound his way towards the Cadillac parked by the sidewalk, LED trimmed speakers propped in the trunk blared out the house beats. On a chair by the hood sat the Duc, the Elvis style sunglasses and purple furred coat on the slim body that jumped up as he arrived. They exchanged pleasantries as the street filled with the roar of engines and the squeal of tires, the long line of smoking rubber leading down the long street outside the line of warehouses. This part of the city was deserted at night, taken over by the street racers and the gamblers.

Gabriel watched a few heats, waiting for the better racers to work their way through the preliminaries until the Duc sent over one of his girls, as a sign of status usually a white or latino girl in a mini dress. Red rimmed eyes from either alcohol or drugs as she told Gabriel he was up next. Handing over his fee to the girl who brought it back to the Duc, then Gabriel took his place on the street at the starting line, a white line spray painted on the tarmac. Multiple coats were alternately worn through as he looked at the crowd, feeding off their excitement and adrenaline. A glance at the tall asian guy with the red jumpsuit on the racing bike painted red and black as his own was.

Pulling the helmet on Gabriel leaned forward, ignoring the hand signals of the other man. Recognizing the bike only as someone who would be worth beating, the others engine roared as they waited at the line. Taking a breath Gabriel stilled himself as he looked down the street, the way lined with cars and spectators towards the distant yellow line a mile away and the trucks bathed in their own lights. The girl in the booty shorts and tube top walked between them, the smell of burned rubber and gasoline permiated the air as he tightened the helmet and leaned forward waiting for her motion. The arms went up, then in a dramatic moment she held them there, then dropped both down, sticking her ass out to the pleasure of the men nearby.

A twist of the wrist and the motorcycle leaped forward, the read tire leaving a thick smoking tread behind. The black leather jumpsuit pressed against his skin as the lights of the cars nearby approached and faded behind in a swirl of light that played against the outside of the helmet. Holding tight the cycle roared under him, its vibrations tore through him like a ripple as the two cycles paced each other down the street. The finish line ahead approaching rapidly as they moved forward, hitting the gas felt the power of the engine beneath him. Like a trained beast it roared again as the bike lurched forward, lights changing to a Doppler stream in his peripheral vision, streaks of red and blue that passed him by as the yellow line appeared. He saw the crowd leap up as the two bikes crossed. Then he saw the flash of red to his side, finally casting an eye to his side as he slowed saw the other bike shiver then spin out of control.

Turning to the side was too late, the wheel of the other spun out. The shudder ran through his bike as the other's tire his his rear and the bike turned and began to tilt. Time seemed to stretch out, like an elastic, as he felt the bike turn and lean. Pulling a leg up he moved as time slowed around him, the adrenaline becoming a current that ran through him as he moved a foot up to the seat, turning the handlebars and letting the bike lean and slide. The foot rest took most of the friction, the rubber wore away in the first ten feet, the metal inside touched the street sending out a stream of sparks behind him. Ahead the curb slowly came, the crowd parting ahead of him, faces of surprise and eyes tinged with fear as he watched the high curb approach, knowing if he hit that it would be all over.

A smile on his face as he held on, welcoming the open door ahead of him, wanting to know what would happen. Anticipating it like a small child watching his sundae being made and placed before him at the ice cream counter, the sweetness of it making his mouth water. Wanting it, Gabriel held on to the bike and as the curb moved closer the elastic returned to its size. The crowd seemed to speed up and with it the sparks and the sound of metal on street sounded sharp in the air as the bike slowed then stopped two feet from the curb. Stepping off the bike at the last moment to a collective gasp of the crowd he punched the air in disappointment, to the crowd it looked different as they crowded around again congratulating him.

"You fucker," he said softly in the helmet, "tease me like that all you want. I will know. I will know," he promised as he took off the helmet and then turned to see the other racer lying on the street barely moving, a slight protrusion of white coming through a leg of the red jumpsuit as blood pooled on the street.

Watching the sun come up as he rode the bike through the streets, luckily the damage from the spill was not major. A new foot rest and tires would suffice, lucky he was told, Gabriel felt as if he was again being teased. As he waited at a light cursing whatever it was that denied him the knowledge he sought, ahead of him was an old style train car diner, the silver of it still bright, and shining red in the early morning light. The smell of fried potatoes and coffee filled the air as he rode the bike in and took off the helmet. Smiling as he walked in took a booth seat and felt the pulse of his phone, reading the email message as the waitress appeared he looked up at her, a knowing smile on his face.

"Morning hun, what can I get you?" She put a cup of coffee on the plain silver table, wiping down the other side out of habit.

"Can I get a turkey on rye?" He asked as she shrugged and took his order.

Pulling up the email he typed quickly on the phone, not liking the tiny keyboard on the screen. "The turkey lives for one day, all he can hope for is to be delicious. Our lives only serve the purpose we give them, knowingly or not. The eyes are the well of the soul, and the reflection of the final moments. I wish to see the reflection. Price is not a hindrance."

 

[AndNich123]

There was so much that Molly could hear from her house. Just up the hill, at the end of the end of the street she lived on lay railroad tracks. At various times, she could hear the trains roaring by, blowing their whistles. Behind her house just up a smaller hill was a lodge. Every now and then she could the music blasting from whatever party they were having. She lived within walking distance to a movie theater, and certain movies played so loud she could almost hear the noise from certain events happening. For Molly it was all background noise though. Admittedly so, she thought it was rather interesting to be able to hear certain movies taking place from her front yard. She wondered if was that loud when she was inside. The lodge behind her house also brought another sound from time to time. Motorcycles. She would hear them at all hours of the day and night. It never bothered her. She didn’t want to report them for making too much noise. That would be petty, and it would be the same thing as someone reporting her because the engine on her car was too loud. No. Molly wasn’t that sort. She actually grew to love the sound in fact. It happened after she became enthralled with a television show about motorcycles. She became hooked on it and rather quickly. So the sounds of the bikes became soothing to her.

It was that same sound that she would hear more of on the weekends. Not too far from her house was a stretch of road that seemed to be notoriously known to everyone in the town, except the police of course, for racing. Rumor had it that bikes and cars along with beautiful, half dressed women would line the sides of the street while the brave ones took to the fastest mile in the county. Every time she heard the roar of the bikes on the weekend she couldn’t help but wonder if they were alright and who won? She could have gotten into her car and gone to see. Nothing was stopping her. Nothing, that is, but herself. They say we’re our own worst enemies, and in Molly’s case, it was true. She was happy person, but she had this preconception of where she belonged in life and society. At a street race, dressed like those women, was not the place. In the diner, wearing an apron, with her hair in ponytail? Just right.

Every day it was the same thing there, but she loved the routine. Certain customers would come in, and they were like family to Molly. A little conversation and goofing off with her co-workers, and some good food when she had a break all made for the good days. Of course there were those days when a customer she knew was notorious for causing trouble would walk through the door ringing the tiny metal bell that hung above it. The collective groan from the waitresses as they stood all hoping this person wouldn’t pick their section to sit in. Some people come into place already with such an attitude they can’t be pleased. Perhaps some people are just miserable. Molly always thought it was funny. As they would leave, she would smile and think, ‘I just got paid to put up with you.’ It was the only way to really look at it things. Part of her philosophy in life was, “If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry.” So Molly laughed when things were tough and people had been difficult. It was her way.

It hadn’t been a day like that when she got home and checked her website. She raised her eyebrows and laughed. ‘This guy wants to have sex as payment. Please. Not even if your dick was the size of Ron Jeremy’s. It’d have to be for me to even let you near me. Disgusting.’ She clicked through the file of pictures he had sent her. Each one was more disturbing. Finally she sent him a message. “You need to get that checked out. It looks gross.” Send. This guy wanted to film her going down on his girlfriend. ‘What? This MurderMe.com. Not see what sex act you can do. Idiots.’ She typed her reply. “Go push your girl’s pussy someplace else. This isn’t the place for it, and if you’ve got to find somebody to satisfy her for you, then you’re not doing your job.” Send. Molly was frustrated. Most people were taking the site as a joke. She shook her head and went to bed to the sound of the bikes racing in the distance.

The next morning, she was up before the sun. She had the early morning breakfast shift. Such a terrible way to start the day after closing the night before. Molly took her normal shower and had her normal breakfast of a strawberry pop tart before heading out the front door. With her diet soda in the cup holder, and the pop tart still hanging from her mouth, she started for work. As entered, the other waitress who was already there snickered at her. “What?” She grabbed a napkin and came over to her wiping her lip. “You had strawberry on you again.” Molly laughed and told her she was going to wash her face before starting her shift. She watched her head over to the table with the guy as she disappeared in the bathroom. It was brightly lit, making everything look pasty under the glow of the dull mirror. She had just wet a paper towel and squeezed the water out when her phone buzzed. Pulling it from her purse she opened it to read the latest message. Her eyes scanned over it several times before she replied:
“Indeed.” Molly paused, not really sure what else to say. This was the first person who seemed to be genuinely interested. “When you look long into an abyss, the abyss look into you. Friedrich Nietzsche. Are you ready to be seen?”
She closed her phone and shoved it into her pocket. Rushing from the bathroom, she bumped into the waitress before heading past her to get her apron. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It’s alright. Here. You can take this to that odd duck over there. He ordered a sandwich for breakfast. A sandwich.” Molly smiled as her friend reached for the plate. She handed it to her along with the ticket. “Turkey on Rye of all things,” she mused.

Molly’s face froze as she looked over at the table. ‘It’s him. Oh my gosh he really came here and ordered it. Him, but he doesn’t like he has that kind of money. No way.’ She swallowed hard and took a deep breath before heading over to him. “Here you go Sir. One turkey on rye. Did she get your drink order? Do you need anything else? Just let me know. My name is….Molly. I’ll be taking care of you now.”

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Gabriel wondered at the promise of the sandwich. Turkey, to die for? He'd never been a fan of rye, curious how it would be. His mother never would have allowed it in the kitchen, too pedestrian or some excuse. If it didn't fit the country club it didn't fit mother. For too many years he'd enjoyed the comforts of what his parents provided, but never really enjoyed it. Always after the next thrill, the next race, looking towards what was ahead and never at what he had. That made the loss of his parents more poignant. Perhaps it had been that which colored his thinking, focused him on the question which nagged at him. The one thing he had to know.

As the waitress came over he heard the buzz on the phone, picking it up read the email. A slight snicker, "Nietzsche. Aww, I was saving that." A wry smile as he looked up and saw her. The apron, the pony tail, "Molly," he repeated. Looking up at her eyes saw something off there, maybe her first day here, or not used to seeing racers. Shrugging, "thanks Molly. Do you have coffee? I'd die for a cup right now."

Turning back to his phone thought a moment. Gabriel didn't want to use another quote by Nietzsche, though it was a great fit, he thought a bit. A classical education grounds a man, his father had said. Forcing him on rainy days in summer, or whenever Gabriel had misbehaved, to read some old tome from the library then tell his father what he learned. Philosophers, histories, all sorts of things that he dreaded in school. Yet father forced him to read, though it did stick with him and opened his eyes to other things. Which was probably the point of it all, to see something he never would have done in the first place. That was probably when it all began.

“What you seek is seeking you.” He typed in, Rumi was good for being on point, and slightly vague. "If I see your eyes, I will know if I can or not. Compensation for your time, as requested. Tell me where and when, I will be there. Gabriel, the man in black." His fingers a blur over the small keyboard.

Looking at the sandwich he saw Molly was still there, "doesn't look impressive does it?" Gabriel turned from the sandwich to Molly, "appearances are deceiving I suppose." Picking it up took a bite, the lettuce had the right crunch, as did the bacon. A smatter of mayo on lightly toasted bread. Crunching loudly enjoyed the first mouthful, feeling the textures melt in his mouth. It always amazed him how a turkey, being such a large creature, had little taste. The sandwich was well made, layers upon layers of flavor. Juicy tomato, a slight crisp of onion, the softness of turkey all of it put just so. Separate, nothing. Together, a new creation.

Raising an eye brow dark eyes looked up at Molly, "coffee my dear?"

 

[AndNich123]

“Well,” she smiled at his words. “I’m glad you seem to like the sandwich. You’d die for a cup of coffee? Such a small price to pay for a life. Don’t you think? Some say you can’t put a price tag on life. I say you haven’t discussed it if you feel that way. Coffee. Coming right up. How do you take it? Let me guess. Black and bitter? Like your soul,” she teased, her expression clearly showing she was. With a smile she added, “If not, cream and sugar is already on the table.”

She turned not giving him time to answer. Still she wore her smile as she made her way over to the coffee pot. He was an odd one, if she had to give her opinion to anyone, but there wasn’t anything overly strange about him. Working where she did, Molly had seen all sorts come in. There was the time she approached a man to find out he had removed his pants and was sitting there in his underwear. She had politely told him, “Shoes and shirt are required. We kind of figure you know pants are included in that.” She had come across a man sitting there with a woman under the table sucking his cock. “We do have food here. Real food. She can have her dessert later. I’m going to have to ask her to stop.” He had groaned, his body stiff, and the girl climbed out wiping her lip. “Never mind,” was all Molly said as she walked away.

She dumped the old coffee and started a fresh pot. ‘He’s got his sandwich to keep him company,’ she mused. ‘Besides, he’ll appreciate the fresh coffee. They all do.’ Smiling at her co-worker as she passed, Molly felt the buzz of her phone. Quickly pulling it from her pocket, she thought about shutting it off, but her thoughts halted when she saw the message. She looked back over to the man waiting on the coffee. ‘The man in black. He ordered….a turkey on rye.’ She lowered her phone taking her gaze away from him. ‘It’s him. He’s the man from the website. He’s here. He’s really here. No.’ Molly refused to believe it was really him. No one was taking her seriously on the website. Why should he? She had to test him. Bringing her phone back up to her fingertips, with her back turned to him, she typed a message for him.

The eyes see only what the mind is prepared to comprehend. Are you ready to comprehend such a thing? Are you ready to watch the life slip from another person’s body? You will be the last thing I see, man in black. Death is certain in this life. It cannot be escaped. Only prepared for. Are you prepared for mine? Signed ML.

She pressed send as the last few drops of water drained the potent smelling grinds of their delicious flavor. The scent hung heavy in the air, inviting people to request refills. Both waitresses were more than happy to oblige, but first, Molly had a delivery to make. With the cup resting on a saucer, she carried the off white colored china cup with a brown ring around the top towards the man. A spoon rested on the saucer as well, a courtesy from her to him. “Like I said, cream and sugar are here on the table. You let me know if you need anything else. Okay? I hope you like the sandwich. Looks truly can be deceiving. Sometimes you could be staring at something so wonderful, maybe even something you’ve been looking for, and not even know it because your eyes see what you want to see. For example, that’s not just any turkey sandwich. That’s a turkey on rye to die for. Like this coffee,” she said raising the saucer as a gesture before she sat it down on the table. She tore his ticket from her pad and slid it across the table. The prices were modest. They were exactly what one would expect in a place like this. The owners had no preconceived notions this was a five star place. It was what it was. The place was a corner diner that offered fast, hot meals for those who were not seeking a restaurant requiring a suit and tie to be seated. It was a hole in the wall place where the locals knew everybody, and the waitresses knew their orders when they came in the door. She walked away, leaving the ticket face up. In the bottom left hand corner her initials were written with a tiny smiley face. ML.

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Gabriel looked at Molly, pretty, bubbly, and with the pony tail she reminded him of almost every other waitress he had ever seen. Often he felt normal and plain enough that he could escape into a crowd, and not be seen. Just one of many. Though it had yet to happen he could imagine it. Molly didn't seem that different from the rest, though she was far more energetic than he felt at this time of the morning, the advantage of the estate was that he had little work to do, and many hours to do it in. Being up all night was not a bother when you could sleep all day.

Hearing the buzz of the phone picked it up, reading the message and smiled. "Playful little thing aren't you?" Putting the phone aside for a moment as he thought about what she wrote.

It was so on target to be scary, she knew about the eyes. Already she had an idea of what he wanted. In some ways he could understand her desire. If the last eyes you look at are what you take with you, then they better be of someone you like, someone you want to remember. Otherwise those last moments are faded, wasted. That much he understood, it was watching someone take what they wanted in those last moments that he wanted to see. As he watched her with dark, intent eyes, the soothing smell of the coffee bringing his thoughts back here. Coincidence is a funny thing, he thought as he chewed meditatively, the sandwich losing all of its flavor now. All this time the web site could have been set up anywhere, the person behind it could be anyone, and here she was in some random cafe right nearby.

Wiping his hands on the paper napkin, the smooth thin paper tore under his touch, picking up the phone typed one word as he looked at her. Eyes darting down to only type until the auto correct took over, "when?" He sent and sipping the coffee, its bitter, roasted flavor flowed over his tongue and down his throat as he watched her. Wondering only for a moment why was it so. Fate was a fickle mistress, or master depending on your view, definitely a bitch but the way it weaved was odd. Hard to know, and when you saw it sitting in front of you like a cold slap on the face one could not help but pause. Or in this case, fill his belly with the rest of the sandwich and the coffee.

Pulling a $20 out and dropping it on the check he sat back in the booth, crossing his legs awkwardly under the table. Feeling the slight rips in the leather where he had slid on the roadway. Turning to look at the bike in the morning light saw the scratches on its side, damn he would need to repaint and refurnish it before taking this one out again. Hardly worth the time and expense of the race, though as he thought of how close he had come had to wonder, was it to get here, to help her. To be teased again about the answers? Yes, he answered himself, sometimes it teased him along and brought him someplace for another step to the answer. Could he tease her along? Help Molly along to what she wanted, what he wanted? Right now, in the light of day, a full belly he could say yes.

Later, who knew. Fate is a bitch.

 

[AndNich123]

The morning after crowd was in full swing at this point. The clubs had all closed, and the bars were cleaning up from the night of drunken bliss and brawl. The sad remenants of the people that had either enjoyed, endured, or simply broken even were filtering into places like the diner now. Coming down from their high, literally in some cases as their red eyes were proof of that, they wanted something that was simply normal. No more loud, fast paced music or men with their lame pick up lines and bottle in hand. No. At this point, they wanted something comforting and soothing. A hot meal, and a comfortable place to sit would fill the bill.

Along with this crowd today came the man in black and his steel horse outside. Molly had looked at his bike quickly when she gave him his coffee. A bit worse for the wear, but she imagined he might feel the same way. Ironically she thought he was lucky. The bike looked anything but new, and yet here he was alive and well in her diner. Clearly he had walked away, and she soliciting to find someone to ensure she would not. The man obviously had money. The bike wasn’t a cheap one. Then again, most aren’t. Most of the knowledge she had about bikes came from watching a television show on Netflix. Somehow he didn’t seem like a man who was into gun running, but then again one never knows.

She wiped off tables as they came open until a regular called her over to leave his tip with her personally. Molly was always grateful and gave the customer a pat on the back before slipping her arm around his shoulders and squeezing. Plain and ordinary she was, but she was also charismatic with the customers. Her phone buzzed, and the old man acknowledged it. “Your boyfriend trying to get a hold of you,” he asked her grinning at her. She gave him a smile before reading the one word. “Go on girl. Talk to him. You never know. He might be the one,” he spoke with a wink. She sighed, the smile still on her lips. “He is,” she told him before walking away into the kitchen and out of view from the customers.

“Round and round she goes. Where she stops, no one knows. As a child, I loved the carousel. I don’t go the pier anymore despite the calming call of the pipe organ music and smells of funnel cakes and other treats in the breeze. Maybe it’s time I change that. I’ll be at the carousel tomorrow morning at this time. Does funnel cake for breakfast sound too strange?”

She sent the message, and the smile never left her face. ‘He won’t be able to make it. He’ll have to work or something.’ It was her line of thinking to comfort her nervous mind. ‘What if he says yes?’ That question was present. ‘What if he says yes and shows up? What if it’s meant to be? What if I want him to show up? Do I want him to show up?’ As she exited through the double doors under the sign that said OUT, she glanced over to the man in black. She could see the money on the check, and knew he was ready. Molly couldn’t help but wonder if she was. Casually she made her way over to him. “I hope everything was to your liking Sir. Can I get you anything? A to go cup of coffee maybe? Although I imagine it might be hard to hold on to while you ride. Riding one of those I imagine you have to have a firm grip and keep it.” She picked up the money and the check quickly before she said something that she feared would embarrass her. “I’ll get you your change,” she told him, still flashing him that same smile she did to everyone. A few buttons pressed and the dinosaur cash register opened. Carefully she counted out his change and slammed it shut. She placed the check and the money back on the table when she got back to him. “Alright Sir. Here’s your change. Will there be anything else I can help you with?” Molly shifted on her feet looking down at him. Her phone had not buzzed yet. Maybe he had read the message and decided not to show. Maybe he hadn’t even read it yet. Either way, she was excited and nervous about either outcome. She wanted this, but she was nervous. With thoughts of the carousel on her mind, she couldn’t help but think about something she had heard before.

‘My favorite part of a roller-coaster ride is when you’re going up and you’re slightly scared and really excited. You don’t know what’s coming next, but you know it’s going to be good. You can’t hand it, go on the carousel.’

Molly wondered would she get on this roller-coaster, or would she simply ride the carousel.

 

[ShadowsLitany]

As she walked away with the check and cash the phone buzzed, reading the message he smiled. Looking at her she didn't come across as someone sick, though you could never tell just by looking if someone was terminally ill. Often it was something inside, that ate away, only apparent at the end. A finger on his lips as he watched her open up the antique cash register and count out his change, which he did not want. For a moment he wondered, could he do it? Would it be worth it? She wasn't gorgeous, women like that only plan their own demise in the movies. No one in real life does it, and a gorgeous woman that a man instantly falls in love with, no one would do it. Or a madman.

Was he mad to consider it? Gabriel was many things, but mad, or insane. No. That wasn't it. Curious maybe, obsessed possibly. Only that fine line between obsession and madness. Perhaps he was closer than he thought?

As she came over he had to admit she had energy, something about her made him feel at ease. It was odd, it made him doubt that it was her, or maybe a joke. The change clinked on the table as she put it down. Looking up at her brown eyes gave her an easy smile. "Worrying about funnel cake in the morning is probably the least of it," he said as he stood looking into her eyes. Something there moved, for a moment he thought about putting his hands around her neck and squeezing until the eyes change. Until they opened and showed him the mysteries beyond.

"Keep the change," he grinned as he slid out of the booth. "I have always loved the roller coaster, not just the anticipation of what lies over the hill that you cannot see, but the excitement that this time may be the one when something happens. Something terminal." Picking up the helmet he wondered, would she understand, was she the one? "I'll be fine thanks," stopping for a moment he turned to her, looking at her as if in confidence, moving a little closer. Smelling the kitchen on her, the diner food, in some ways it made him hungry. It was her eyes he wanted to see, see them now. Before it all. They were open already, full of life, and something else.

"I used to love the carousel when I was a boy, so high upon the horse and each time it went around the horse would go higher and higher and I would imagine that it would keep on going to the sky." Clutching the helmet, "I'll be there. Thanks for the the sandwich, it didn't kill me, but it was filling."

Stepping out and on the bike it rode rough on the way home, in the garage he set it aside for repair. Draining the engine and cleaning it out during the day as he thought about it. About her. By afternoon he was tired and the bike was in pieces in the garage, the tarps stained with oil and grease as he cleaned the parts and immersed himself in the details of the repair. Stretching after lunch he went back to the house, the maid and butler left him a meal in the kitchen and the daily mail. They were the only staff he kept on after his parents death, more to watch the place than any sort of companionship, he had become used to them over the years, barely noticing when one or the other would change. They left the house ready for him as he needed, by bedtime the bed was ready and in the morning breakfast and coffee were waiting when he woke.

For a change he took one of the sports coupes out, if he was going to meet her they might need to drive somewhere and it was easier to speak in a car than riding on a cycle. The pier showed its age, it had been there awhile and the rides were looking dated. Flakes of paint and numerous repairs showed on many, the roller coaster, a wooden one, still ran. The rickety sounds of the car as it careened about the curves of the track, the way the posts shook when the cars sped by it made him wonder if this would be the one that a bolt would let go. Something would happen. As he waited by the carousel he ran his hands through his hair, in a tight black t-shirt, jeans, and black sport coat he seemed under dressed, only the quality of the coat and shirt said that he did have money, no matter how he looked. Right now, that was nervous.

 

[AndNich123]

She watched him leave and climb atop his bike. He started it with minimal effort and soon disappeared into the light of day. ‘It was him,’ she thought. All of his words so fresh in her mind, had her frozen in her place. ‘It was him.’ Three simple words that kept coming back to her. ‘He said he’d be there.’ Molly knew the ball was now in her court. She could either call the game and walk away, or she could make a play. Either was the choice was hers’. She held all the control. It’s something she wanted. Death is ineviatable. How we die is something we can decide. Normally we are all on our crash courses with destiny, barreling at speeds we can’t even begin to comprehend towards whatever has been laid out before us. There are times when we can decide to turn left or right. Molly stood at such a fork along her path. One path kept her on along the road lined with the various things in her life that were not likely to ever change. It would be the same house, same life, same job, same family, same issues rising time and time again, but the end of this road was a stopping point she knew nothing about. It would come no matter where she was or whom she was with, and there was nothing she could do about it. The other path was one where other possibilities would open up to her as she neared that end that she could have some say in. Her choice was clear to her. ‘I choose left.’

She finished her shift with thoughts of the man in black never far from her mind. Aside from a few regulars and the occasional man that flirted with her, nothing was out of the ordinary. Dishes clinked, voices rose, and the smell of food was always heavy in the air. She picked up an extra shift, more than happy to lend a helping hand. So by the time the sun had set and the dark of night had claimed the once bright sky, she was exhausted. Sweaty, her hair a mess, and her feet aching, she climbed into her old car and made the drive back home. It was always the same ritual when she came home. First the door was opened and her purse was hung by a hook next to it. She closed the door and locked it right then. No. Molly wasn’t afraid. It was simply more convient to lock it now as she had a habit of simply falling asleep. She wasn’t hungry tonight. Having worked the extra shift, she picked up dinner during her break at work. It saved on having to cook anything, and that was always a plus. Turkey on rye had been her dinner. It was an intentional choice. She peeled her shoes off as she sat on her bed before pulling her laptop next to her. The website had taken a few more hits. All of them were jokes, of course, but at least it brought a smile to her face to read the outlandish offers. She pulled herself into the bathroom, where she enjoyed a nice, long, hot shower. Wrapped in her terry cloth, white robe, Molly rested across her bed, next to her laptop, where she slipped into the soothing comfort of sleep.

It was the sound of the train rumbling by sounding it’s whistle that woke her the next morning. She hadn’t moved all night. Yet another benefit from picking up an extra shift. Dressing quickly, she then left the house on her way to the pier. It was place she had loved since she was a child. Her parents would take her there. The carousel was always her favorite. She never understood her deep rooted fear of the roller coaster, though she wished she could throw caution to the wind and climb aboard one of the old, rickety cars and fly along the tracks. The very thought made her anxious. The smells of hot dogs, pretzels, and of course funnel cakes filled the morning air as the vendors were busy getting ready for the day. Children already piled along with their parents begging to spend the day. Teens walked holding hands, a declaration of their love for one another. Couples, both young and old, had come to spend the day drinking each other in as well as the sights and sounds. It was a happy place, a family place, and amid it was Molly, alone holding a funnel cake. She neared the faded carousel as it’s pipe organ melody was already lulling it’s riders around and around in a perpetual circle. She looked around briefly. Her eyes stopped as she spotted him. He was dressed smartly standing there alone. ‘The man in black,’ she thought. Slowly she approached him from behind. Molly watched him remembering his face and words from the day before. A smile played on her lips as he ran his hands through his hair. As much as she was enjoying the tension of delaying this moment, it was time. She knew it. “Sugar,” she said tearing a piece of the funnel cake free. “I like mine with sugar and chocolate syrup. A bit indulgent for this early in the morning, yes, but you only live once. Right?” She offered it to him, the smile still on her lips. “Hello man in black. I’m Molly. We should talk. Please. Won't you enjoy some of this with me? I can’t possibly eat it all. I never do. I’m always biting off more than I can handle. I guess I’m a turkey on rye kind of girl. What about you, man in black? What kind of man are you?” She looked at him, her brown eyes full of her own fear and yet intrigue as she stepped even closer to him. Her heart began to beat faster. The realization, the truth was there. This could be the face of the man she looks into when she takes her last breath. This is where it all begins for her with the man it will all end with. There was so much she wanted to say and find out about him. There would be time, as much as she was willing to allow. "Tell me your name, man in black. I at least deserve to know....the name of the man....who is going to kill me. Don't you think?"

 

[ShadowsLitany]

At her words he started, she had come up behind him munching on a funnel cake of all things. As she walked up to him the realization hit him, it was her. The waitress from the diner. He couldn't believe it was her, the nagging idea of it, the things she said, it had to be. In the flesh there was no doubt. Most times he heard of people doing this sort of thing, suicide, assisted suicide, it was because they were sick. Something terminal and they wanted to handle it on their own terms. Molly, yes, that was her name, she did not look sick. Still, you never knew what was really going on inside someone, sometimes the eyes would tell you, but not always.

"Indulgent, decadent, just words to excuse or condemn. I've heard them a few times myself," the fingers were in front of his face holding a piece of cake. The fried dough, golden and crispy, little pockets of air fried into the batter that was all covered with sugar and chocolate syrup. Tempting, if you liked that sort of thing.

Smiling at her mischievously couldn't help but hear the inference with the man in black, true he was in black but the allusion was unmistakable. Unless you liked Johnny Cash. "Gabriel," he said as he leaned forward, lightly taking her hand in his fingers. "Like the angel," he added as he moved her fingers towards his mouth. Teeth grabbed the piece of cake, the fried cake crunched lightly in his mouth. The sugar coated his tongue with sweetness, then as if intrigued he looked at her fingers. Though slightly smooth they were hands that had seen life, not exactly calloused, she was far too young for that, but these were hands that did things, made things, like the maid and butler.

As he looked at them he brought a finger to his lips, kissing it lightly and taking the sugar off her finger tip. Then slowly he sucked the tip into his mouth, feeling the skin against his tongue that wiped the sweet coating away, his tongue swirling around to feel the smooth edge of her trimmed nails. A slight hint of chocolate as he cleaned the finger, a moment of intimacy as he sucked and kissed the coating away. Looking up at her did the same with the other fingers, slowly, methodically he worked his way across all four fingers, removing it from his mouth and staring closely at it to assure himself he had done the job well. While he cleaned her fingers he looked up into her eyes.

Mostly it was a physical reaction. A response to external stimuli, or perhaps something within the brain that triggers and the eyes change. Pupils dilate, the color and intensity of the iris changing, depending on mood or reaction. There was a lot to read there, if one knew but how. In Molly he saw a lot of conflict, nervousness, fear, excitement. So much just from those little windows of the soul, momentarily shuttered when she blinked, the shape and length of the folds around the eye adding so many more clues to her as he licked her hands clean and leaned back.

"Yes, we should talk," that was the crux of it right now he thought. Could he kill her? Once when his friends had been together and they talked about the thrills they sought, some talked of the ultimate thrill. To kill someone. The discussion ranged about ways to do it, but Gabriel thought they missed the point. Methods were endless, but what was the motive? Just like crime there had to be a rationale behind it all. He could probably kill her now, she was a stranger, a nobody. A waitress from some diner he happened to change into. To know her. Could he do it then? Hypothetically yes, he thought, unsure as he was.

"I'll be honest, the whole idea intrigues me. Its odd to be true, but I've seen and heard worse," probably, he added silently. "To know me is the real question though, how well do you think you have to know me? A day, a week, a lifetime? You can stand next to a person every day on the bus, chat about the game last night, or the latest tv show and now know them. Married couples who lie next to each night, lying in each others arms, don't always know the whispers of each others hearts. It's up to you Molly, how well do you think you need to know me before," he paused, the rest of it implied.

Turning he saw the carousel, the horses moving up and down, other assorted animals moved on poles. Others stuck fast, simply going round and round. Reaching a hand out to her gestured with his head towards the carousel, the pipe organ music loud from within, the mirrors and lights giving a festive air to it as the gaudy colored animals spun slowly before them. Offering his hand to her, "let's ride and talk, its been awhile since I've been on one."

 

[AndNich123]

It wasn’t lost on her. Gabriel. As he had said himself, like the angel. Was he her angel? Time would certainly tell. She was about to speak to him as he took the funnel cake from her grasp. There was something about the act itself though that stopped her. Molly had been on dates, had a boyfriend or two, but there was something so intense about this moment. Perhaps it was the lack of familiarity between the two. He was a stranger, and this could be seen as almost intimate act. He showed no fear, and yet she was brimming, overflowing even, with her apprehension. Still she stared into his eyes as he took her finger into his warm mouth. A soft gasp that she made no effort to hold back or hide. Their surroundings didn’t waver or change. The music still lifted in the air, loud and full of the promise of a carefree day. Children still raced along the wooden planks that made up the pier. Their laughter coupled with the sounds of the various rides all in flight around them. Here, in this place, she found herself allowing a man she didn’t even know to suckle her fingers. As she felt the textured surface of his tongue bathing her finger, Molly found herself taking deep breaths. The salty air was intoxicating. It only compounded the blithe atmosphere they were submerged inside. Blood rushed to her lips. They became fuller, plump. Molly wasn’t one for make-up. It was just another way for a person to hide she thought. She captured her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before releasing it and leaning her head back. That same lip began to quiver ever so slightly. She could feel the slight tremor. Again, there was no effort to hide her reactions.

He had asked some valid questions and made some good points. Her eyes glanced down to his offered hand. She smiled looking up to him. “Alright.” With her freshly cleaned hand, Molly took hold of his. As they approached the carousel, she threw the rest of the funnel cake into the trash. “It was time to say good-bye to that as well,” she told him casually. Climbing aboard, she felt the floor wiggle underneath her feet. “I’ve always like unicorns,” she told him as her hands ran over the white painted horse. His golden saddle was adorned with costume jewels. Some had been gone for years, clearly. She reached for his horn. Yellow. A soft smile still played on her lips as she reached for the pole, gripped it, and pulled her body up to it. A quick glance over to Gabriel and her smile widened. “You just wanted to see me next to a pole. Admit it,” she teased. Her leg swung over the horse, and Molly settled against him. “I don’t ride side saddle. I’m not that kind of girl.” She playfully tossed her hair over her shoulder as she batted her eyes making light of the prim and proper girls she was nothing like. “I’m not afraid of getting dirty or breaking a nail.”

She watched him as the carousel began to fill up. Mostly children who were either accompanied by their parents or grandparents or were waving to them as they stood behind the iron fence. “ See? We’re already getting to know each other. It won’t take that long.” Molly took a deep breath, knowing she was about to take the conversation deeper and move them closer. They had not passed a point of no return yet, and she would make sure he knew this. Of course, she got the sense from him that Gabriel already was well aware of that fact. “It’s funny you and I should meet today. It’s April 1st. April Fool’s Day. I assure you Gabriel, this is no joke. I am very serious about what I want. Trust me. I know exactly what I want. I don’t come to you with this offer idly. Again, I’m not that kind of girl.” She leaned forward, her face against the pole. “One month. You have one month to get to know me and I to get to know you. One month. There is nothing that happened during this month that means anything to my family. After I go, that won’t be the case anymore. It’s why I picked this month to go. It will be last month. On the last day of this month, you will do it. So I have no intentions of dragging this out and stringing you along. This is not something I will say will go on indefinitely. No. There will come a time when enough is enough, and I will know you enough. I just don’t want the last eyes I see looking back at me to be those of a stranger. There is so much violence in this world. I know I will, “ she paused looking around at the people around them before resting against the pole once more, “go. I cannot stop that, but I can control it. It won’t come cheap, but if you’re willing, you can help me. I know. What do I need money for it I do this? Right?” She straightened her back and looked down to the dirty, wooden floor of the carousel. “I have my reasons. The money will be left as part of my estate,” she rolled her eyes at the word. “Not much of an estate, but it will be added to it. Well. Some of it will. I plan on doing a few things that I’ve never been able to but wanted to do. This month will be my last hoorah, and I intend to enjoy it. That’s all you need to know really.” The carousel jerked as it began to slowly move. Molly felt herself rising above him slowly only to pick up speed as she came down. Her eyes watched him as he ascended higher than her now. “So Gabriel, man in black, are you ready to fall into the ring of fire with me?”

 

[ShadowsLitany]

While she talked he listened, truly listened. Each word carried a weight, an importance that would not be denied. Everything they talked about while here, in the open and in public, on the surface looking like a couple together, perhaps on a date, discussing the end of a life. With the casualness of a dinner party, or a weekend getaway. Listening to her words thought to of what she did not say, as much as to what Molly did. The nervousness that was apparent in her made her seem to ramble, but taken together he could see she had a lot to say.

"A month?" He thought it over, not realizing that today was April Fools Day. Who was the Fool here, him or her? Smiling that he had only noticed the day passing, not the import of the day something about the juxtaposition of it intrigued him. "A month it is then," he agreed as the tape loop cycled through, the carousel music around them of a different age while the words of the Johnny Cash song ran through his head as she called him her man in black. His reasons were different as to why he wore black, but the end of the song was right, he'd change when everything was ok.

The time was short, as they passed each other, the horses riding up and down the gleaming poles sliding near them he only then thought of what she mentioned about a pole. Smiling at the way she went from seriousness to a chiding humor and to a practicality that showed she was more complex than she had come across. No simple waitress she. The question still hung there, could he do it? See in those eyes that desperately wanted to hold onto a familiarity before slipping into the darkness. Did his parents turn to each other in their last moments, wanting to take with them a familiar face. He hoped so, that was what he wanted. He had to know, would it make a difference? Questions about it drew him in, made him want to pursue this. Yet he wondered, could he do that final act. He'd danced with death often enough, alone, could he do it with another?

"This danse macabre we are about to begin is going to have its own music, not as gaily done as this one," he circled a finger at the carousel as the horses seemed to rise up at the crescendo of the music then slow as the carousel ride ended. "I'll join you on this dance, as long as you have the steps to continue. I've done my own dance," thinking back to the race last night and the sliding bike on the road, "and I want to see how it ends, either for myself or my partner."

Shaking his head to clear it as the ride finished he flashed her a smile, the way they talked around the issue amused him. The force that drew them together it was a surreal, intimate moment that started to stretch as he licked her fingers, it began to pull back now. Like an elastic pulled too long, it was either going to bring them back to where they started or snap, the moment that had brought them close was ending. Sliding off the horse with a practiced ease he raised a hand to her as the carousel slowly jerked to a halt, "we have a month to fill, so we may as well get started. Perhaps I should show you my estate, so you know a bit more about me."

 

[AndNich123]

“Danse macabre,” she repeated back to him. “Indeed. I have the steps you speak of. They are not practiced or rehearsed. Some of the best moments in life aren’t though. To be caught up in the moment, swept higher and higher, to feel the rise of energy, of happiness, and to ride the unknown like a wild stallion can be the ultimate dance my friend. Sometimes we get burned as we dance so close to the ring of fire we find ourselves in. Are you willing to dance so close to those flames that you might just get burned?” Molly rested against her hands that gripped the pole. The carousel still pulled them forward in a perpetual circle. Thought it appeared they were going nowhere, nothing could be further from the truth.

Even as the ride came to its conclusion, their dance was still moving forward. She took his hand and glided down from the horse. There was something about him. Was it his clothing? No. She had seen similar before in magazine and television shows. No one she knew would afford such fine material. Was it his body? No. Oh he was handsome. That much was apparent to anyone who looked at him. She couldn’t deny she had taken in certain attributes about him more than once since they had met. Was it his eyes? To her, they were his weakest point. They eyes let so much go that most people didn’t realize. You could gaze into a person’s eyes and see their soul, or so the old saying lent one to believe. Try as she might, she could not see his soul though. What she did see was curious warmth. ‘That’s it. He wants to see as much as I want to experience.’ He was curious about death, and he answered her search. This man in black was serious. He wanted to know and was on his own search. The alternative was something she didn’t want to believe, and even if it was the case, she didn’t care. This man could be a sadist, a natural killer, and she was just setting herself up to be his next victim. He might not even pay a dime to kill her. She didn’t care. Already she knew something about him. So he wasn’t a total stranger. Did she believe that was the case? ‘No. He’s not like that,’ she decided as she held his hand, making it through the crowd of people.

His car loomed ahead of them, and it wasn’t until they were close to it that she realized it belonged to him. “Impressive. Do you always let your money talk for you? Your clothes? Your desire to pay for….this? Now your car that is going to take us to your estate? Tell me. Does your money always buy you what you want?” Before he could answer, she flashed him a smile. “Come with me. Let’s take another way home. We could walk some of the way, if it’s far. Then a cab the rest of the way. I’ll see your world, your estate, but I want you to see mine as well, and riding in something like this, certainly isn’t part of it. We’re going to get to know each other after all. How about we start with a walk and a cab ride?” She turned toward the beach the pier rested on before extending out towards the ocean. “Come on. I love walking on the beach. The sand between my toes, the cool water rushing over the top of my feet. If you’re not up for a walk and a cab ride, at least indulge me this. We can spend some time on the beach and then head to your estate. By then, perhaps you will be ready for lunch. I can cook you know. No,” she paused. “You wouldn’t know that, but now you do. I don’t just play waitress. I know how to cook Johnny. What do you say? Come away with me?”

 

[ShadowsLitany]

A walk on the beach, how unusual he thought. Nodding as she led him to the pier Gabriel wondered why she was doing this. Molly didn't look sick physically, and mentally she was too sharp for anything noticable. More nervous, he thought, than anything she talked almost as if the words came into her head. It was amusing, much more so than many of his friends who were either too careful being children of families that had a legacy to perpetuate, or those who were too wild and needed to test the edges of safety and normalcy. As she touched on his money he could only shrug, it had been something that he'd grown up with, as much a part of him as memories of birthdays long gone.

Taking off his shoes and drawing up his pants legs stepped down to the sand, the grit resilient under his feet as he offered his hand to help her down. The soft sounds of the waves lapping on the shore somehow intensified the scent of salt and sea as they walked along the shore. "My money doesn't need to speak for me, though as has been said, money does talk. Problem is, what is usually says no one wants to hear." He laughed slightly at his own little joke. Feeling the wet sand squish between his toes, the feeling of the squeezing under his feet, cool and soft.

"I'll play along with you, maybe its a game, maybe not." Looking at her wondered where it all came from, was it loss? Something else that would drive a person to this. His came from loss and a need, an empty hole that was filled with a question that drove him on. Away from those who he had been close to, they came along with him to a point, but few came with him after. Leaving many behind he was on his own now, except maybe for Molly. She seemed to have her own place, not one like his, one with more wants, but it seemed a safe, comfortable spot. Why give that up? She raised more questions than answers.

"I'm with you for the ride, I don't know where it will take us, but sometimes it is not the destination but the journey that is transformative." Waves lapped at his feet, the bubbles of the surf clung to his skin as the water came up cold and biting before drawing away. "If you want to go somewhere first, let's go. I don't have a schedule to keep, if you want to show me something then show me. I'm probably as curious about you as you are for me. This is a big thing, one of the biggest decisions ever made, not one to be taken lightly. If it was, then it would be cheap and tawdry, if it has to mean something then it needs depth. Structure. Something behind it."

The morning sun dappled on the waves, bringing a sort of glow to her. She wasn't someone he would look at twice physically, there was something there though. In the eyes, the manner, that had something underneath it all. Something that would draw a person in, the right person. Gabriel just wasn't sure if he was the one.

"Cooking for me, that's almost an intimate action. Are you sure we are ready for that?"

 

[AndNich123]

Molly loved the beach. She always had. It was one of the few reasons she hadn’t moved away. The town itself was a small one. Small towns have their attraction. Everybody knows everybody and nothing stays secret for very long. They also have their draw backs. Everybody knows everybody and nothing stays secret for very long. Ironic how reality can be a double edged sword. She watched him walk along the shore, and she listened to the words her spoke. He was right. Most people never wanted to listen to what money had to say. They were always too busy forming their own opinions and jumping to conclusions. She was just as guilty. Already she had done that with him when she mentioned his money talking for him. ‘Mental note. Don’t ever do that again.’ Gabriel didn’t seem like the type to go around killing people. She didn’t look at him and think he was some serial killer parading around as a normal man. By day rich, billionaire, handsome man. By night secret killer who gets away on his motorcycle. No. He couldn’t be. So why was he ready to use his money for such a purpose? Had something pushed him over the edge? ‘Mental note. Find out why he wants to do this during this month of getting to know each other. Metal note. You’re still forming opinions about him based on how he looks and his money. Really stop doing that.’

She laughed at his question. “Cooking is an intimate action? Then tell me. Where does taking someone’s life rank on that same scale?” Molly didn’t really give him time to answer. She wasn’t really expecting one anyway. Her gaze turned out to the ocean. The sun was rising ever higher, illuminating the water more, casting a bright glow. With her hand up over her eyes, she squinted as if looking for the next topic of conversation to appear over the horizone in the distance. Instead all that was visible were the boats preparing for parasailing with their eager, willing, tourist customers who had booked their little adventure weeks in advance.

“My mother and father came here when she was pregnant with me. Every time they try to take a vacation, get away for a few days, and stay at a hotel closer to the beach, my father always gets sick. It’s a running joke among the various people in my family that he doesn’t like the ocean, and that’s his way of getting away from coming. Truth is I don’t think my father hates it. I just think it’s bad luck. Seems to happen every time though. My mother was nine months pregnant with me when they came here. My father, of course, fell ill. She had to drive home, with her sick husband, while she was pregnant with me. Of course I don’t remember it, but I’ve heard the story. What I do remember is being a little girl and trying again. That particular year we got up early the next day, knowing we were going home because dad was sick. He was still sleeping when she brought me here. We sat right there,” she pointed to place along the peir where wooden benches were attached near the railing of the pier. “She got ice cream for me. It was breakfast, and she got me ice cream. Chocolate. She said later she wanted to do something special for me since we were forced to cut our vacation short. That’s mom,” she shrugged, smiling. “The beach is a special place for me Gaberial, and since we’re getting to know each other, I thought I would share that with you.”

Molly turned back towards him, still smiling. “You said if there was any place I wanted to go that we could go there. I’ve shared with you this place and why it’s important to me. Please. Would you do the same?” She hadn’t mentioned money yet. Frankly it didn’t seem like the right time to her. That would come when the timing was right, and that was something they would both know. “Come on man in black. Show me something from your world.”

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Gabriel couldn't help but laugh, he had never met anyone like Molly before. She was free, unrestrained, unfettered. Like a little bird that flittered about. He could not help but like her, it was a shame she wanted him to kill her. Although, on the beach, toes tantalized by the waves and sharing stories of family that seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind. That was a cloud that was far off over the sea, it was not blocking out the sun that shone on them now. As she shared her stories of family vacations here it was like an inkling of why, that was the question that began to flicker and burn in him now. The only question that at some point would matter, only it seemed impolite to ask. Especially as she opened up a small door to him right now, letting him see a small piece of her, an intimate piece. Something hidden from the everyday.

"Cooking and killing are almost the same thing," he admitted, "depending on how each is done. I'm not doing much more than philosophizing on that, I'm no expert on it."

For a moment he reflected as the waves came higher, the tide was slowly rushing in as their meandering trail that led from the dock was partly obliterated by the waves. "Family vacations were slightly different for me," he dragged a toe though the wet sand. The short line erased by the next wave, like a moment in life it any disturbance was eventually smoothed over. "We didn't have any stories like yours, unless you count my father working, or my mother taking us to some charity event. My families are what you might call old money, both coming here before the Revolution, they were particular on who married whom after a certain point." Waving a hand as if he didn't care about it all, "status and class and all that nonsense."

For some reason as she called him the man in black he liked it, never a fan of Johnny Cash, to listen to something like that at home would be an abomination to mother, he liked the idea of the man. Not really an avenging angel at this point he was more of a curiosity seeker. As he looked at her neck, imagining for a moment his hands there squeezing, holding tight and feeling the pulse of the blood under his fingers. The last gasps of air that would be kept from her as he held close her throat. Could he do it? The idea was still remote, almost academic. Gabriel wanted to know, he ached so hard for that knowledge that his heart hurt. But to actually do it? He could say yes, but once his flesh touched hers would he recoil from the deed.

Thinking back to memories of ski trips, beaches in warmer climes. Ancient cities and ruins they had done many things, which all seemed special at the time, but in the end just blurred together. One memory held out though, because it was ordinary overall, but unique for him. "Well, there was one afternoon, my parents were somewhere in the city and I was bored. So my mother brought me out for a walk, we ended up in a park. At a playground where I spent some time with some children playing, kids I never saw again. I had a lot of fun though, it was the only time I just felt like a normal person. A regular kid, no tutors, no private schools, no servants, my mom bought me an ice cream and it dripped on my hand as we walked."

Feeling lost in the memory, he could see the sun in the trees. The shouts of the children, people doing their normal day to day business. That feeling of cold ice cream falling in small rivulets down the back of his hand, warm and thick, for that one afternoon he was just like any other kid and he liked it. "I haven't been to that park in a long time," he mused as he turned back towards the dock and the car, "let's go there." Holding out his hand, "come on, we can drive."

 

[AndNich123]

Molly caught sight of him looking back at their trail vanishing with each crashing wave. It brought to light another happy memory. ‘We’re sending our footprints to the other side of the world mom.’ ‘That’s right baby. All the way to the other side of the world for other little boys and girls.’ Molly smiled. Even something as simple as footprints left in the sand was rather symbolic of life. It was there, an impression made, but then as the waves of time repeatedly beat down, they were changed until they ceased to exist. Molly never really considered herself a deep person, as others might say. To her life was life, and she saw no point in wasting it not saying whatever she wanted to. Often others would tell her, ‘you say whatever you want.’ There was truth to that. She thought, ‘you only have one life to life. So why not?’ Sadly this line of thinking only translated into what she said. Her actions, on the other hand, were a different story. Having always done the right thing, Molly never really let go and lived life for herself, but with Gabriel in her life now, she was about to change all that. If she hadn’t lived her life for herself, she was certainly going to die the way she wanted to.

She smirked at his comments about cooking and killing being almost the same. Remembering when she first started to learn how to cook, she would have to agree with him. Being in the kitchen with her when she was boiling water could prove to be dangerous. Just like with the footprints in the sand, time had altered her cooking skills, making them better, and that was something everyone that knew her was glad for.

He spoke about being at the park with his mother, and in that moment, she felt like she was seeing the man behind the black, the motorcycle, and the money. He was simply a man remembering a happy time with his mother. There’s something so beautiful in the simplistic honesty he was revealing. The windows to his own soul were opened right now, and though she couldn’t look into his eyes, Molly was sure she had a good perspective as to who Gabriel was.

He extended his hand and made his offer. She smiled at him, warmly, as the sun continued to warm her. “Yeah,” she replied, reaching for him, and grasping his hand. Molly paused, looking at his hand. Had she truly felt something? Did he? Was her imagination playing tricks on her, making her feel something because she so desperately wanted to? She looked up and finally stared into his eyes once more. ‘Please let there be something there. Please. Let me see. Gabriel let me in.’ She squeezed his hand firmly and stepped closer to him, the water rushing about her ankles now. “Gabriel, there is something I want to tell you.” Molly took a moment, still drinking in his eyes, allowing him to do the same. “We’re standing in water up to our ankles, and I really hope that’s seaweed that just brushed against my ankle.” Molly screamed and began to sprint from the water, but she never let go of his hand. Once she was cleared from the water, she burst into laughter. “Is it okay to get in your car with our feet a little wet and the sand? Honestly we can take my car or the bus if you don’t want to track it into your car.”

 

[ShadowsLitany]

As Molly stepped up to him in the water it was like the scene on the beach in From Here To Eternity, except they were not lying down in each others arms. There was a moment, something passing between them, something that was a distraction to what he wanted but it was there. A beat of the heart for a moment when they looked in each others eyes, a spark went off somewhere inside him until she screamed and ran out of the water. Shaking his head laughed a moment, hearing her ask him to let her in.

"Don't worry, you'll get in soon enough," he promised. Holding her hand felt as if they had jumped up on the relationship scale, he'd just met her, in order to kill her, yet they were on the beach talking of intimate things like lovers. If that was the case he only saw one tragedy that fit, "your last name is not Capulet is it? No, couldn't be. That would be too odd."

Instead he led her back to the dock, "don't worry about the car, someone will clean it out. They always do," he walked barefoot with her back to the car talking intermittently. "We, I should say I now, I have more at home. There is a spare, not the same kind of course, Dad had a few different ones. I used to think he matched them with his ties we went through so many. I guess that's why I have a few bikes, that and the racing. Always crashing one up every now and again," he mused over the other night as they made their way to the car.

A two seater he wasn't sure what to take today, so he took the Z4. The BMW was a nice car, it rode well and he thought the convertible would be best since the weather was nice. As he helped Molly in he got in barefoot himself, it had been awhile since he'd driven without shoes, it was another beach, another time. Looking over at her as the wind moved her brown hair, watching her struggle to keep it out of her face as he sped up and braked to move through the morning traffic. "I guess you saw the bike when I met you at the diner." Laughing he pulled the car into traffic, cutting a few people off in order to get to the park. For some reason he really wanted to get there now, to relive that day. "I'd had a crash that night, almost died I guess, if the bike had been going maybe 10 mph faster I would have hit the curve, rather than surfing the bike and getting out alive." He recounted a few other near death experiences, reliving them as he made his way on autopilot to the park.

Being morning it was mostly deserted, a few dog walkers, joggers, and the old people who moved around slowly feeding the squirrels and pigeons. There were a few trails along the pond in the center, and in the small groups of trees that were more managed than natural in their placement. Still it was a green space in the middle of an urban sprawl, what did one expect? Barefoot he sat on the hood of the car, the silver body slightly indenting when he sat. Looking over it all felt the warmth of the afternoon that day, the freedom of not being him, the way his mother indulged him that one and only time. It had meant more to him than he had ever said to her, and that chance was gone.

"It was here," he gestured at the pond, pulling his feet up to the bumper. Sand scratched the soles of his feet as he put his elbows on his knees. Resting his chin in his palms, "usually life was so regimented. Can't do this, can't go there. We had social status and respectability to uphold. A family name, two of them, that mattered. Not sure to whom, not to me. Mostly I wanted to play, to get out of the house and be myself, this was the one time my mother let me. I played with some kids I never saw again, ran around barefoot in the grass, and at the end of it she gave me an ice cream cone as we walked hand in hand around the park." Sighing, "all that is gone now. I never told her how much it meant to me, and now I'll never get that chance with both of them gone."

 

[AndNich123]

He zoomed through traffic with ease. There wasn’t much to begin with at this hour. The ride was smooth, like a dream. All of this had been like a dream. Molly wasn’t sure it wasn’t one in fact. She reached over and slightly pinched her arm, expecting to awaken in her bed with the warm light pouring through the mini blinds in her bedroom. No. The warm light was there, but everything else was still the same. ‘It’s not a dream,’ she thought. ‘Or is it?’ He had mentioned someone would clean the car. There was always someone there to clean it up. She couldn’t help but wonder was he accustomed to having someone always clean up his messes. ‘How capable is he of taking care of himself,’ she thought. ‘We shall see.’ He spoke about when she had met him and the crash he had had that night. Without thinking, Molly reached over and patted his leg. She didn’t speak. There really wasn’t much need. She actually thought he had said plenty. Here she was seeking someone to take her life, when in that moment, she got the impression he wanted his life to end.

The park was like a breath of fresh air. Women in their workout clothes jogged with white headphones jammed in their ears lost to whatever they were listening to. They were in their own little worlds, indulding in something they either loved or felt the need to continue doing for whatever reasons. A few people were there with their pets walking them and some throwing fresibies. She never was a dog person per say. Molly could handle being around a dog. It wasn’t her most favorite thing in the world to do, but she could handle it.

She watched him climb up on the car. The hood creaked in protest as he settled and pulled his feet up. “Tell her now,” she said. “Just say it. Talk to her. You two shared a happy memory. Part of her is still in this place. You have to feel it being here again. So tell her.” She turned and took a step away from the car. “Mrs. Carmichael, thank you. I know we haven’t really met, but I wanted to say that. You have brought this wonderful man into the world, and you should be proud of him. Look at all he’s become. That afternoon h spent with him meant so much to him. It’s something he’s carried his whole life. Thank you for the gift you have given the world in your son.” She turned around to face him. “See? Nothing to it. It doesn’t matter if other people think you’re crazy.” That was advice she wished she could live by herself. “All that matters is if it makes you feel better. Your parents have been gone a while. That doesn’t mean the greiving process is over. So if letting your mother how that one day made you feel makes you feel better, then go for it. Besides,” she said moving back to him and slipping up on the hood beside him, “I’ve already talked to her, and I’m sure you must think I’m crazy for it.” Molly grinned before nudging into him. Smiling at him, she remembered what he had said before. “Deny they father and refuse they name. Your mother gave you a perfect day. For one day you were not Gabriel Carmichael. You were Gabriel, her son, an average little boy doing what little boys do, what they should do. For one day, you were allowed to deny thy name. Besides what’s in a name? That which we call a rpse by any other name would smell as sweet. You were just a little boy. It didn’t matter what your last name was. You were still just a little boy. Sometimes parents forget that sort of thing, and they get caught up on things like status and money. It didn’t make you any less of a little boy because of what your last name was, but to them, you had to be a rose. No exceptions. Well. There was that one perfect day were there was an exception. So tell your mom what it meant to you."

 

[ShadowsLitany]

"It's easy to ask forgiveness of the dead, either you talk to the aether or a small chip of stone set in their memory. In either case they don't talk back," he told her slightly despondent. The pain of loss and regret of his parents had been a warm blanket for so long that he wished he could curl up with it again. Wallow in the feeling of loss and stop time, not take the chance to step on for himself.

As she stood up and talked to his mother he couldn't help but smile. No one called her Mrs. Carmichael unless it was the help, or someone from one of her charities asking for something. It brought a smile to his lips, but not for the reason Molly would have thought. He missed her, even though she had tried to mold and shape him into whatever form she and father had liked, had wanted, him to be. Long ago he came to accept that, as a family with a long pedigree he knew there were unrealistic expectations of him, same as the others he went to school with, and they commiserated about it. Some accepted it, some fought, and some just pretended not to care and just let it carry them along. Gabriel had always been the later type, knowing at some point he would have to give in, but decided to have fun until that time.

Giving Molly a smile as she nudged him, "yeah, well, if it would have helped the other hundred times I have said I am sorry would have worked." Wondering what brought someone who wanted to end their life to understand it so well he almost asked, though there was time for that. At least until whatever it was, he could open up more, or not, though at least with her he could be more himself. He got the sense Molly wasn't going to judge him. As he watched the people around them, each going along with their lives, not knowing what purpose brought Molly and he together it seemed odd. They were an ending while he watched the others and thought of beginnings, crazy or not, if he took Molly at her word. She came across as a freer spirit than she looked at first, that intrigued him.

Getting up he inhaled the early morning air, the smells of fresh cut grass and morning on the slight breeze. "Quid pro quo done. Check." Pulling out the keys he flipped the ring on his finger with practiced ease. "What's past is past, I'm as good with it as I will ever be, thanks for bringing it back though, I haven't thought about this for a long time." It did bring him some peace, there were times with Mother that were well worth reliving for reasons other that pity and guilt, he had forgotten that. "What do you want to open up about next?"

 

[AndNich123]

“A lot of people take it for granted their upbringing. You’re trying to ruin my life,” she laughed. “I said that a hundred times to my parents. I use to say that when I got married and had kids, I wouldn’t be like that to my kids. Thankfully that ship never left the dock. I can’t even keep a house plant alive. I put it where it gets the right amount of sun, give it water, never too much, I even talk to the darn things and play music. I always play music, love to, but the darn things keep dying. I guess even when we do everything we’re suppose to things have a way of going the way they’re going to. Kind of like raising kids. You can try to shove them into this little box that you think they need to be in, for whatever reason, but they’ll still out the way they’re going to. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that. Maybe they become people the parents aren’t proud of. Bad people. Then again maybe, just maybe they turn into nice people. Good people. A man in black who rides a motorcyle, and tha’ts just fine.” Molly didn’t even look at him as she spoke. She felt like she had made her point. So that was going to be the end of it for her. She knew parents usually did what they thought was best. It didn’t mean they were right or even that they’re reasons were. Gabriel had fallen victim to parents who were trying to push him inside the box they wanted him in, but just like her house plants, he did exactly what he was going to do no matter what they did. They didn’t give him too much sunlight, too much water, or not enough. They surrounded him with conversation and music, but in the end he became who he was, who he wanted to be, and from where she was, she didn’t see anything wrong with that.

“I’ve seen where you’ve come from, sort of,” she smirked. “I’d like to see where you are now. This estate of yours’,” she gestured with her fingertips to her chest as she fluttered her eyelashes, “Would you still be interested in taking me there?” Not hiding her actions, Molly took out her cell phone. She wasn’t proud about what she was doing, and deep down she hoped he didn’t ask. Google was a good source, and she often used it. Her fingers tapped in the words he had spoken. ‘Quid pro quo. What does that mean? Oh. Here I tought it meant free work.’ She pressed a button on her phone before returning it to her pocket. “After this, if you’re interested, I’ll show you my home. My family lives close by. Always has. I guess I didn’t venture too far away from them. Maybe I’ll change that this last month that I have. Depends really. On you. There’s one thing we haven’t talked about Gabreil. All of this is such a serious subject, but I did say on the website you would be paying for the chance to do this. I’m not….I don’t want to sound greedy, but..I’ve got my reasons, and to be honest..this last month I have, I plan on using some of that money to live. There are things I want to do, and I plan on doing them. I’ve always wanted to go to England. There’s someone there I want to see, but that’s something I’ll get into later.” She blushed, unable to contain it. “I mean how do I know the car isn’t a rental, and this estate isn’t real? I’m sorry, but there are a lot of sick people out there. How do I know you’re not getting off on this somehow with no real intention of being able to afford to do this?” These were real concerns for Molly, and she knew there was no way she could say these things without sounding bad.

“So,” she reached out and stopped him from twirling his keys. “If you’re ready to use these to show me your estate and talk numbers, then by all means, let’s go, but Gabriel if this all some kind of game to you, then do us both a favor and tell me now. I plan on doing this, and I have my reasons, but only with someone who is serious and able to provide me with what I’m asking for. Can you do that? If you can, fine. Prove it. Show me where you live. Show me more about you, the man in black.”

 

[ShadowsLitany]

"A game?" He repeated the words with disbelief, then he smiled. "I almost thought the same of you," turning to her felt the idyllic spell shatter around them. For a moment he had been lost in the past, wrapped in the warm memory of that day. The one time he had been just like everyone else, freed from the responsibility and burden of family. Few knew the demands such families made of their children, just others in the same situation. Boarding school had often been a never ending bitch session of the demands their parents made of them, most glad to be back at school with its more mundane needs and goals.

Molly was right though, he looked at her, his eyes gazing across her neck. It still didn't feel real what she was asking of him, it was almost academic at this point. Like some odd, erotic fantasy. He knew of gaspers, had dated one or two before, but it was never his thing. Holding a neck and squeezing, yeah he had done it, but dropped off just before they passed out. To go all the way? Gabriel tried to imagine his hand on her neck, for a long moment he looked at her, that slim, long neck. Making out the muscles, the veins, the slight pulse of the artery just behind and under her jaw, the beat of life. Could he still it? Would he pay for the privilege to do so? To be able to look in her eyes at that last moment and understand, the itch of knowing came back. An itch that demanded to be scratched.

Molly was practical, in ways he was not. The way she admitted what she did not know, to him it was everyday, but he had the mark of privilege and in some ways it was there, but often because of who his friends were he never really paid it much attention. "Yes, let's go," he said as he slid off the car and opening the door for Molly let her in before jumping into the drivers seat. "We can talk there, you may as well see the rest of it." He'd also opened his own door for her, something about Molly was open and he wasn't sure what it was, innocence. Sweet. Sweet, yes that was the best word he could think of. Not simple, not complex, but it was a depth he had never encountered, of hard borne experience but even under such a great weight she was still a happy person. As he drove back home he had to admire her for it, and for a moment lamented the eventual loss of it to the world.

Home was home. The wrought iron gates at the end of the long brick driveway opened as he pressed the control, the gates swung in silently to the landscaped grounds. A big swath of lawn before the brick and glass mansion, small at 40 rooms. It was the house he was born in, actually so as his mother's delivery had gone quick she had never had time to get out of bed. Father had always said he was in such a rush they were never able to make the hospital. They had bedrooms to spare, 5 bathrooms, a den, dining room. Library with books and books going back to a thrice named great-grandfather, a patio, pool, tennis court in the back. Gabriel had grown up in privilege, and for it often found himself one of the loneliest people on Earth.

As he circled the car before the main door, the wide driveway opening before the garage where the other two cars, and his 4 bikes, were stored. The slight morning breeze stirred the tall trees that ringed the house, the lilies and rose bushes around the house filled the air with the aroma as he opened the door for Molly. Waving his arm at the house bowed slightly as he helped her from the car, "be it ever so humble."

 

[AndNich123]

Scenery changes in life. From day to day the backdrop may remain the same, but the players, the subtle props change, and in some cases, even leave. The backdrop of her life was simplistic. It was home, her family, and the diner. Simple and yet complete. The props were interchangeable. Customers, new people that would come into her life, some for just that one moment, passed by her like the rushing waters of a stream, like the buildings and homes they passed in his car. Gabriel was new fixture. He was more than a passing customer or tree though. He would be the last prop she saw. Even though money had not been discussed, he was still pressing forward. The truth of the situation had been spelled out, reminding them both of the weight of the situation, and he had opened his car door, and more, to her. Now they were rushing through the town, heading towards the place he called home. He wasn’t afraid. He was something that called to her, capturing her attention. Gabriel was intrigued.

The buildings changed the closer to his home they got. From buildings of worn brick and wood with peeling pain,t to more modern, newly constructed ones. Signs with only half of their neon lights able to burn and glow once the night had come upon them all gave way to places that were too upscale for such things. Patches of empty lots with trees and grass growing out of control became well manicured landscapes of trimmed trees and beautiful flowers. Neighborhood children out playing various games were replaced by children walking alongside their parents looking like miniature adults trapped in children’s bodies. One thing she noticed about them was how sad they looked. These children were dressed in the finest clothes, and yet it was in their faces, their eyes. They looked….trapped. Suddenly everything Gabriel had said about his life made perfect sense. These children were him. She looked over at him, wanting to say something, but only smiled before turning her attention back to this new part of town that she had never seen.

The gate came into view, and Molly couldn’t believe that this was actually leading up to someone’s home. It looked more like something one would find outside of an asylum. It was designed to keep people inside. In this case, she wondered if it was meant to do the same thing here or to keep them out. After driving up the house, Gabriel parked the car and got out. Molly stared in disbelief at the exquisite home. The door opened, and she moved, reaching for his assistance. “Humble? This place? Well I had no idea..that people actually lived like this.” She brought her gaze to him. “You really can do it.”

The flowers beckoned to her. Molly moved to them, cupping a flower in her fingers before leaning down to it to inhale. “I love the scent of flowers, but I can’t stand them for too long. Strong smells give me a headache, and flowers don’t make the cut. It’s why I don’t wear perfume. Yeah I know. Not really important in the grand scheme of things. Gabriel this house is amazing. I would love a tour if you don’t mind. I’d be afraid to go at it alone. I might get lost,” she laughed. “Do you live here alone?” Standing as close as they were to the house, the sheer size of it nearly swallowed her. “It’s beautiful. It’s like..a dream..being here. You’re so lucky Gabriel. I know I don’t know what you went through growing up, but I saw it. On the way here, I saw the children with their parents. That was you. On that one day, at the park, it wasn’t you, but every other day, those children were you. They looked trapped, forced to live out the will of their parents. That’s no way for a child to grow up, but Gabriel look at the advantages you had. You had advantages, opportunities not everyone does. I’ll bet you’ve been England. Me? I would love to go, but I’ll never get the chance. I have a stupid list of things I want to do, and that’s on it. I’d like to go to New York and order a hot dog from a street vendor. To see the cityscape at night, lit up, would be amazing,” she sighs. “I’ll never make it, but you? You could go Gabriel. Life is a trade off. We never get everything we want. You had money and opportunities. Me? I’ve had everything else.” She moved closer to him, so close she could reach out and touch him. “So how about that tour? I’d love to see the house you grew up in.”

 

[ShadowsLitany]

Molly stepped out of the car, almost lost in a dream. He thought it was probably the first time she'd seen a house like this, a home that would seem larger than life, she took to the most familiar, the flowers. Revealing more about herself Gabriel turned slightly when he heard the door open and Carstairs stood in the doorway immaculate as ever, one of the few remaining staff of the house it was not up to Gabriel to change them yet, nor did he feel the need. Having them was like fooling himself that things were still normal, the house was maintained, food showed up on the table, it was as if his parents had never gone. Right then he realized how important they had been to him, nodding to Carstairs the grey haired gentleman opened the door wide then stood waiting.

As Molly cupped the flower and talked about the smell of them he smiled, "Mother liked some of the flowers to have strong smells, and some to be more subtle. There is a Scent Garden off the patio where the scents change with the time of day and seasons," one of Mother's pride and joys it still allowed him to feel close to her. "You might enjoy the flowers there at night if you don't like strong smells." Stepping up he held his hand out and brought her to the house, Carstairs nodding slightly in welcome and closing the door behind them as the butler went to move the car back into the garage.

She had caught his meaning, he was trapped in his own family. Obligations, one of the many inheritances he received, though he fought them off and on, they were too strong. Like chains they bound him to the house, to his place, there was no shattering them. Though he could loosen them once in awhile, and often it was excused, so long as he let them tighten after. Maybe with Molly he could release it all, and with what she wanted he could shatter their grip. It was something to think about.

"Its mostly me and the staff, Carstairs is sort of like a butler, he is in charge of the house. There is a live-in cook, Sheila is nice and very talented in the kitchen. Andy is sort of the man about the house, he takes care of everything that Carstairs and Sheila need." In the foyer the stairs circled up on either side of them, black and white marble tiles on the floor gave the room an Italian sort of feel. Like being in a plaza somewhere, "I think we went to England once," he opened up slightly as he showed her the rooms on the first floor. Dining room, library, study, living room, kitchen, the hallway down to the servants quarters and laundry room. "We went more to other countries, and spent a bit of time in the Caribbean. Not sure why, it seemed to be a more popular destination," he had always wondered about it, but since it gave him opportunities to para-sail, dive, and sail he never questioned. A life that he never questioned his parents choices, it was obligation and obedience. The struggle against it had made him rebel at times, a thirst for a life free of the restraints placed on him.

Moving upstairs towards the bedrooms, the solar, den, and the extra rooms that looked out on the back gardens, patio and so on he came to a spare room near his own. "You could stay here if you want," leaning against the door frame he watched her eyes widen slightly, the room was small for the house but about half the size of the diner she worked in. "It'll give us an opportunity to know each other better," as she stood near him he looked on her neck again. So slim, graceful, could he? The thought crept up on him unawares, would he be able to get to know her, befriend her, before taking her life? It was such an odd situation, almost beyond belief, yet here he was opening up to her, showing her his house, almost a complete stranger, yet he trusted her so much already.