[Kaimee]: 5.Short stories.Trappings of the Flesh

Trappings of the Flesh
© Kate-Aimee Conrick. All rights reserved!

But it’s so easy Love, one little bit of pressure, one wish, and you’re immortal… free. An essence…You could be like me…

The door chime jingled again and she quickly jerked her hand back down from where it had been wandering, to feel the tiny tingle that shot through her whenever she encountered the tiny bump behind her ear, the bump that has grown since the dreams and the Voice had started. She drew her mind back into her body and glanced up quickly and shot a smile at the customer, who nodded with his head towards his usual and strolled on in to take a seat in the empty cafe.

Don’t you want to live forever? Get outside those puny trappings you wear, and experience what your senses deprive you of? I thought…

That terrible compulsion struck, it marked the times the Voice grew louder and was growing overwhelming these past few days. That terrible compulsion, that need to let her hand steal up to her neck… to let her mind reach outwards... The Voice mocked her, echoing through her head when she spoke aloud, scornful, wheedling, loving… she didn’t like to speak anymore, her days were carried out in external silence.

I thought you would! Don’t anger me child, don’t play with me. These things are rare, you don’t play with power…


Her gaze shot up suddenly to encounter the sharp dark gaze of the customer, who had walked around behind the counter. A quiver of fear shot through her as she met his eyes. She thought for a second that he knew the thoughts inside her head, as if the Voice was real. But no, it was impossible. She smiled jerkily and turned to the register, to ask him what he wanted, and was surprised when he put a finger to his lips. Images of rapists, robbers, criminals – they all shot through her head, and yet even that was better than what he was doing, oh god he wasn’t. He reached toward her neck and brushed the bump under her ear, pain lanced through her. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be.

You know something, you’re thinking something. Tell me what it is! Tell me! I wont love you anymore if you don’t tell me… what is it?! Tell me child!

She closed her eyes and tried to think of anything else, anything but the man who seemed to be un-writing the Voice’s hold on her thoughts.

Who is it?! Someone’s there, someone hunting me! Don’t you dare tell them, I’ll destroy your mind if you betray me, I’ll melt your own flesh from your face, your eyes from your head…you wont… I wont love.. you any.. more….

The man smiled and pressed once more on the bump, caught up her hand and pressed it there. No tingle. No little frisson of pure joy to shoot through her body. She closed her eyes tightly and waited for the Voice’s regular litany, the Voice that punctuated her thoughts. She waited, and her eyes flew open and sought the man’s. The voice was gone.

He held up a tiny metal ball in one hand, the other still holding hers to her neck. A tiny, bloody, metal ball. Startled, she wrenched her hand to see the blood on her fingers, the metal ball in his hand, the Voice gone.
“You’re the third, we caught you just in time..." he murmured gently as he tugged her hand up to his neck, and she curled her fingers against the tiny scar she knew was the same as her own.

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Piece © Kate-Aimee Conrick. All rights reserved!