The Department of Human Resources and Creature Comforts. Overseeing vampires and other supernatural natures. Councilwoman Martha Dawson proceeded down the corridor. No doors but a giant infinite wall seeing the night sky. Her eyes peered at the window for a moment. How could it also view the streets covered in red. On the other side, she knew the streets were made of concrete ad the people that walked on those streets were human.
She continued o, cursing at the invention of an elevator that was built I pure confusion. If the plan was, tire them out. The President was smart about it.
Making into the elevator, she hit the B for the basement. Stepping Into, the elevator, she thought. Her job was the bare minimum, which means she didn't do a dam thing except lie. The company didn't have much of a background. No one knew where the building came from. It just appeared and Martha? She just wanted a job. One thing led to another, she was handing maid work she got promoted to paperwork, she lifted to Assistant. Then, she got told, how loyal she was.
'Don't you think it's weird? A little funny? An obayifo can be a person but only sometimes. I think Africa was on to something and it's so easy to say, they brought us over here." She remembered him telling her. And she asked him, "What about the magic?"
"Black people are gifted but you remind us of slavery. Why? When we got so much more." And he was correct, but at the time. She didn't care. African Americans were people; she was white they were black. Mexicans were Mexicans, she noted again to herself, she also called them workers and she had a Latina in her home. Who also stole her baby and husband but now, her husband was black.
Yes, she sat on the desk and let him in between.
Yes, he handled her so gently she felt high. She felt needed. She felt safe.
Yes, his lips touched her own lips. His tongue on her neck, in her ear, and his fingers in her mouth.
His fingers were inside of her. Stretching her apart, the noises, the confusion. She told herself, she was married but reminded herself, he no longer found her attractive. Yes, she bent over, his hands traveled her back.
He was nothing like her husband who was. This was somebody new. His eyes were the color of a sweet treat but his lips stained her, leaving black marks along her hips and shoulder.
Just a touch set her on fire.
A mere word caused her to shiver
She praised him. Called for him.
Yes, she swore her very breath.
Gave birth to the child that split her into two
And he stood above her and again his lips pressed against her cold flesh. Teeth chewed her skin, her spirit liberated. The ground glowed and she could be again. What mattered was not then but now and with him.
The elevator arrived at the bottom floor. From side to side, she saw rock and a metal path. She followed along the path which led her to a set of golden double doors. She touched the door, as a canine face appeared, it let its breath float. She removed her hand. "What is right and wrong?" the beast spoke In a hushed tone.
"Devotion."
The hound smiled and the door split open. She walked to the next area, this part with rooms and bars. Down the hall, she spotted a character, two white pigtails laid upon his shoulders. She sighed and lifted her head to another voice, "Let me out!"
The individual snickered, "That's fucking stupid." The man stood tall, a good six feet seven. With that acknowledgment, he had to be a vampire. Her foot moved In front of the other, she halted hearing a ring. "What the fuck is that?" glowered the man. He looked into the cage. "What is that?"
"My phone."
His eyes slit, "Well…" he put his hands In his pockets and leaned back. "Answer, don't be fucking rude."
She sauntered forward, "Administer Lyons. There are no other branches allowed through this point—" He held his hand as she came towards him. He viewed her from the outlook of his mustard yellow eyes with a red light in them. "Stop right there, whore."
"Excuse me?"
"Don't think for a motherfucking second you can tell me anything because you done had some black dick between your teeth." He rose a brow, "I'm assuming you white bitches remember not to do that."
This was administrator Melvin Lyons, of the Vampiric Disposal. "Administrator," her heels met as she stood straight. "There are no other authorities concerning the department allowed this way."
"No shit." He barked. "You forget, you fucking a king?" he smirked, his fangs long, she felt something below. "That doesn't mean you boss me."
His skin was a pale beige. He was right, it wasn't her place. She was a bitch and that was enough. What had she gotten herself into? Slave duty. If anything, she was the first lady to the king. It was an honor, not her goal. She just wanted a job. If she thought about it, she was a side bitch, she was here for the show. At least she got to live in the mansion compared to the two-story house in the hills.
Melvin was under him, but nonetheless, she knew things and sometimes thought about switching.
"Bitch!" he bellowed. "Don't try."
She ogled at him; her mouth slightly open. "You commited to one nigga and now you wanna forfeit? You two faced."
He stepped closer to her, his breath at the tip of her nose. "If I pull it out, how much can you take?"
She scowled, "This door has a word."
"And I'm thief." Melvin looked at the worker in the cage. He saw Martha. "What did he name you?"
"Martha." She answered, because why not.
"What was your name before?"
"Something." She spoke.
"Bitch, are you a something?"
Technically, "Yes." She knew better than to pretend that she actually had the right to do anything. "Where?" he questioned. She looked at the floor, "He doesn't want anybody to talk to."
"I don't care." He looked her up and down. "I know one thing. When that nigga wake up. Tell him to come meet my ass on Epp."
Her eyes expanded, "The old home?"
"So, you've been told?" Melvin walked past her. "Also, tell that nigga I shot him. I know he confused."
She turned around, "You shot him?"
"Fuck yes."
"Why?"
The door opened, he stood there for a moment, "Target practice. You know, since niggas don't know when to mind, they damn business."
She crinkled ad turned to the worker in the cage. "Wayne?"
"Counselor Dawson?" his mouth dropped, "What are you—"
"I should ask you the same."
"Vampires."
"I think you're lying. I told you to watch my young, where is Nobody?" she glared at him.
"He—He ran away."
"He ran away? You wat me to believe that?"
"He did!"
"Ad your resume stated that you also attended Bright Minds for the addicted." She pressured him. "You also wet to prison for a rape charge of a child correct?" Martha crossed her arms. "Counselor, I have no idea what you—"
"either do I but your ID umber is 0730e73, is't it?" she stepped to the bars.
"What are you—"
"Isn't it!?" She put her hand in his face, clutching to the side of his head. Her hand glowed, he hissed in pain and surprise. "What are you—"
"You did wrong Wayne. You wet to jail for molesting the child you babysat. What do you have to say for yourself?" His body went limp in her hold. His breath against her palm, she took her hand away. "Yeah… I did it."
"And his name was Jules?" she held o to the bars, looking at his drained face. "I did it. Yes, I raped Jules." In his eyes, the room was a padded cell with a tiny window looking at a bunch of cells. Across from him was a werewolf chewing a human arm.
She shouldn't have done it. But it got her what she wanted. Benefits.