“Are you getting out or not?”
“Not until you apologize.”
“Ok, I’m sorry — could you —”
She got out with an aggressive stride. “Thanks for not listening to me.”
“What, I know we’re late — but we can make it!”
“Late; they might not consider me anymore! Do you know how long I waited!”
“Stop screaming, ok, let’s just go out.”
To the outsiders they all looked like a normal couple. Walking outside. Probably trying to get home. The woman was exasperated. For twenty years the exhaustion was becoming acidic; just last night her hand was trembling and she had howled in tears. The pathwork of veins that plopped up and down her body talked of a dying skin. Now her tardiness might ruin it!
As they entered the old building secretly they got into its antique elevator dialing the number fifteen. The young man next to her did not speak but his lips were tight in an expression of haunting; several times he might have wanted to speak (slowly his lips moved) but resisted.
“I like you just the way you are.” he finally confessed.
“This is not about you.”
“Everything you is related.”
“Let’s get this done with.”
When they entered the hall was full. Mostly women like her. Their eyes dull yet that subtle hint displayed her emotion; the need to be ravenous. They were all seated. The principal host had started the votes.
“She came in late.”
“Does she think she has a chance?”
The principal host smiled: “Good now that you have come we can start your vote; though the others have already given their speeches. What is your argument?”
She exhaled. This was it. Her speech would probably favour her. She smiled at him — he reluctantly smiled back at her.
“When I was young, I had a dream. I wanted to be beautiful always. And I know we are a race that can stay so for long. We are not entirely human. Nor are we their folktales of evil. We are the Fills. And as we live longer than them we have found a way to live at least a few decades more. Now many do not want it which is fine. But I do. I want it badly. I need a new lease in life. I have had four marriages broken. Abusive parents. And I lived in squalor on most part of my life. Many of you ladies have dined with riches and notables but I just withered. Now I want to bloom once more. I need to forget this place which I had to occupied. I know I came late. But believe me! I need this more! I cannot even walk properly anymore! My sadness destroys me everyday! I need this! Please! Let me live life anew!”
The women in the crowd were moved to tears with hers. The man who came with her looked bored and a bit disappointed. But then from a corner of hope he smiled a bit, feebly though.
The crowd started voting. She did as well.
“You can’t vote yourself.” the young man, her friend, laughed, “So, who did you vote for?”
“I just voted someone I liked.” she said with indifference, “Aside myself why should I care?”
“I thought these things were democratic in nature.”
“The elections are just population control. It’s not really there to be democratic. The supply is limited. You can only have three people win. The two persons with the most votes gets to chose. The third just gets scraps. But gets something. Though no one wants to be third if they applied. At least I know I don’t want to.”
The principal host called for order. After the final votes were tallied —
“It seems you won.” he smiled.
“I know you didn’t want me to win.” she snapped.
“I just don’t wanna lose you.”
“Stop acting like a pansy and grow up.”
The stage was set. The hooded, struggling girls were brought in. One of them was screaming. She was punched to keep shut and the women in the crowd screamed:
“Hey don’t hit them!”
“Yeah we voted!”
“Don’t ruin them!”
The hoods were removed and the crying girls looked at the group of nanny-like women. Granny-like yet instead they resembled fairy tale witches. She took a step forward.
“Which one you want?” The principal host asked her.
“The youngest one.” she looked at the sixteen year old.
The knife was bought as the girls started screaming and started kicking the sixteen year old was subdued. The knife was struck down and she became quiet. The two other girls became quiet but still sobbed.
“Here drink.” the dead girl’s blood was given to her.
As she drank the girl’s body started to drain. Flesh. Organs. Skin. The other two hostages screamed as they saw the dead turn to skeleton then dust. And they screamed as they saw the old woman —
— no longer old; glowing and looking like the girl who had died.
The young man came forward, “Well, you got you wanted mom.”
“Not yet.” she smiled as the others ravenously approached the other girls, “You know I really like your friend Sam. Maybe you should invite him over. It’s time for me to start my summer romance.”