Authors: Xander Daniels
Chapter 1: New York Ain’t No Fairy Tale
Cindy woke up earlier than normal. She hadn’t been sleeping the way she used to. Tossing and turning around in her small bed had become her nightly norm. But, when she woke up this morning, she could feel something special in the air. Outside her bedroom window the sweet sound of the New York rain created a soothing melody that filled her heart with a magical hope. She jumped off her bed to glance outside her window, which was a bit jammed, but she managed to open it by pushing her muscles up and against the glass pane.
The rain was briskly hitting the New York streets, creating a romantic atmosphere with an element of gothic sublimity. She stuck her face out of the window to feel the rain kiss her pale porcelain skin. She was a young woman with shapely curves that had made other women cringe with jealousy. Her eyes were large and blue. And her untouched lips were soft and pinkish, finely shaped.
People were walking under umbrellas on streets, hiding their heads from the rain. Most of them were buzzing their way on the road, in their cars. Everybody seemed busy in some way. There was an old man, about eighty years old that gazed up at Cindy in the window. She thought that the old man had lived a long life, and she admired the lines on his face
—
evidence of experience she did not yet have. She was just nineteen years old, and there was a long life ahead of her. She wasn’t even sure about the decision she took, of going to New York to pursue theatre. Her foster family had laughed in disbelief. Time would tell, whether her decision was a good one or not.
“EEEEEK!” the alarm clock exploded like a grenade, and she was completely startled. She took a deep breath, and reached for the alarm clock with her hand. She turned the alarm off. It was seven-thirty. “Here we go again!” she muttered, and quickly changed her dress. It was an ordinary blue dress, which she had worn about a million times. She didn’t have much of a choice. Even in her tattered drabs, Cindy always looked remarkable.
She darted out of her apartment, and locked the door on her way out. She was a house-cleaner in the morning, caterer in the afternoon, and waitress by night. Three grueling jobs with lousy pay. But that had to be done if she wanted to survive in a city like New York, and she certainly couldn’t rely on her foster parents. All her life she depended on herself, and she wasn’t willing to abandon that attitude. Her foster parents had worked her hard, but she supposed that was payment for food and a roof over her head.
She walked down the street trying to avoid the puddles. Just when she thought she was in the clear a semi-truck rolled by and splashed her blue dress with mud. “So much for my fairy tale morning,” she muttered.
When she arrived at the massive Victorian building she carefully climbed up the slick stairs to begin her daily housecleaning. She was a pro at housecleaning, because that’s all she did back home. She wiped floors, removed cobwebs, took out the trash, cleaned furniture, and lots of other things. Life wasn’t getting any easier for her. She knew that she had to get strong enough to deal with all that or else she would have to kiss her dream of becoming a star goodbye. She was waiting for a miracle to happen, and didn’t care how cliché it sounded. She was a dreamer. There was something inside her that always made her realize that nothing was impossible.
Finally she got to the apartment where she had to do her work, but before she could ring the doorbell, she noticed the door knob twist clock-wise, and her employer pulled the door back with an angry look on her face.
“You’re late!” cried the bitter woman, who had just stepped out of her house.
“Sorry, Ms. Biel,” Cindy spoke in a low and gentle voice, as she took a couple of steps back.
There was a flicker in Ms. Biel’s eyes that confirmed her prior suspicions
—
this would be no ordinary day.
Chapter 2: Cleaning House
“You better straighten up your schedule Cindy. I have no tolerance for ones who overlook the importance of time.” said the woman, in a stiff and unforgiving voice. Ms. Biel was an older woman, with a cold exterior, yet still incredibly attractive.
Cindy nodded with a heavy head.
“Did I make myself clear?” she inquired bitterly.
“Yes, Ms. Biel,” she said in defeat.
“Good.”
With that she threw her rusty apartment keys at her in a hurry. The old keys hit Cindy on the tip of her fingernail, as she failingly attempted to catch. Cindy gasped as part of her index finger nail broke off, and a few drops of scarlet colored blood trickled down to the floor.
“Damn it Cindy. And now clumsiness?” Ms. Biel huffed. A strange gleam came in her eyes when she saw blood escaping her long fragile finger. “Come here,” she sounded as if she was repressing something.
Cindy was feeling pain, but she pretended to be tough, in order to prevent a lengthy dialogue with the old mysterious lady. She bent down to pick up the keys. Ms. Biel’s eyes turned fiery-red in color, but she quickly covered them up with a pair of sunglasses, which she always kept with her. Cindy took a couple of steps forward. “Show me your hand,” Ms. Biel insisted, in a motherly tone this time.
Cindy stretched her hand forward. Ms. Biel grabbed her hand and inspected it closely like a goldsmith measuring a golden nugget.
“I’m sorry for that. I have been under a lot of stress lately. You mind if I tend to your wound?” She gave her an affectionate look.
Cindy was confused by Ms. Biel’s sudden change. “Sure Ms. Biel.”
Ms. Biel placed Cindy’s fingers in her mouth and began to suck, slowly and gently. Cindy felt a chill run down her spine, but at the same time she felt a strange kind of sensation. The feeling was a mixture of horror and romance. In that particular moment, she felt lost in some mysterious place. At first it seemed so strange what Ms. Biel was doing, but then it began to feel normal.
“Very interesting,” purred Ms. Biel with a coy smile, “Now that is something I have not experienced in a while, quite a unique taste,” she chimed as she dropped Cindy’s hand gently to her side.
“Well, all right now Cindy snap out of it. You better get to cleaning as I am having many houseguests this week.” Ms. Biel, adjusted her fine little off-white hat, and walked down the ornate steps. “And don’t forget to lock the door on your way out.” She turned her head a little to look at the startled girl.
“Yes Ms. Biel,” replied Cindy. She felt better. It seemed as though she was healing quickly.
Cindy quickly walked into the house. She locked the door on her way in, and leaned her back against it for a few minutes, till she slowly slipped down on the floor. “Focus Cindy, Focus!” she backed herself up. The house was gigantic; Ms. Biel was easily Cindy’s wealthiest client. She quickly grabbed the mop, which was lying helplessly on the floor in the store room. She remembered that she had placed it in a bucket on the previous day. It seemed as though someone did some cleaning while she left the place. But cleaning wasn’t necessary at all. She did a fine cleaning job. And besides, Ms. Biel, was the only person who lived there. It couldn’t have gotten messy, Cindy thought. Ms. Biel was a business woman, so she deemed cleaning as something that was beneath her, and that was the very reason she hired Cindy.
“Who cares,” she said spontaneously, as she grabbed the mop from its thin long handle with one hand, and the little silver bucket with the other. She mopped the floor thoroughly. She loved drawing patterns on a dry floor with a wet mop, and at times, strange marks were left on the floor. Then she had to clean it again.
She went to the library, her favorite room to clean so she could admire the old books, and of course her favorite painting. It was of a mysterious man with long hair standing by the ocean. His eyes were so inviting, and yet sad. Her favorite part of cleaning Ms. Biel’s house was looking at this painting, she felt so drawn to the man, in a way that filled her body with a mysterious sensation.
While she was mopping the library, she saw something under the table. It was a stain of some sort, a red stain. She knelt down and began to examine it like a detective. She looked at her hand to see if it was bleeding again. But she was surprised to see that it was completely healed. It was impossible for her to believe.
She pushed the wooden table a bit, and mopped the floor clean. The red stain was as good as gone. After that she had to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen appliances.
She walked straight into the kitchen, and took a deep breath. There were very few dishes for her to clean, mostly red wine glasses, so she was relieved. While she was doing the dishes, she came across a sharp knife that had a few drops of blood on it. Her day was getting weirder and creepier, but she decided to push all the strange thoughts about the blood out of her mind.
She felt tired already. But there was one more thing to do before leaving the house. She had to vacuum Ms. Biel’s room. It was a messy business for her in the start, but then it started to get easy. She was glad that her cleaning tasks were going to be over. But while she was vacuuming, again she witnessed a strange thing that made no sense. It was blood, on Ms. Biel’s bedroom carpet this time. She had been cleaning Ms. Biel’s house for about a month now, but she hadn’t ever seen anything so strange.
Chapter 3: The Dream
Cindy was running aimlessly in a dark foggy jungle. The moon was fighting to peep through the mist with its glossy yellow light. Someone was chasing her. She got a few cuts on her arms and wrists as she tried to crawl her way out of huge thorny bushes. “Help!” she cried her lungs out, “help!” she kept screaming as loud as she could, but to no avail.
Suddenly, the whole gloomy forest literally went up in smoke, and she was caught between an eternal void. Then, two huge fiery-red burning eyes, emerged out of nowhere and began to stare at the young girl. “Who the hell are you?” she inquired out of immense fear. Her legs were uncontrollably shaking at that event, and her heart throbbed with fear.
She started to run, but the eyes kept following her. Those eyes were on her tail, no matter how hard she tried to run. “Stop following me,” she cried once again, as she turned her neck to glance at the massive demonic eyes. But the eyes were no longer there. When she looked ahead, those eyes were right in front of her, staring her from head to toe. She felt as though someone had peeled her soft skin off with a crowbar. She couldn’t even cry. It seemed like it was the end. Then suddenly, a red tear fell from those beastly eyes. The tear enlarged, the moment it hit the void. It sucked her in. She screamed as loudly as she could, knowing that nobody could hear her.
Cindy awoke, gasping for air and for a reminder that she was alive. Her whole body was covered in cold sweat. Her hair was badly tangled. Her skin had turned stiff and hard, and her face was as white as a corpse. She breathed heavily and thanked God, for restricting that nightmare from jumping into the real world.
She dragged herself out of bed and went straight to the bathroom, where she looked at herself for a couple of minutes. She vigorously washed the sweat and fear from her face. She looked horrible. She felt so lonely, and now it was time for her to her daily schedule. She took a deep breath, and stared into her own eyes declaring, “I can do this, and my luck will soon change.”
As she was recovering from her dream, she heard a knock at the door. She was surprised. For a second, she thought that answering the door wasn’t a good idea. Since she was new to the city, nobody knew where she lived, except for her clients. And why would her clients visit her? “Who is it?” Cindy asked.
There was no answer.
She walked toward the door and tried to stick her eye in the keyhole to see if it was someone she knew. But there was nobody outside. She gently turned the knob, and pulled the door back, just enough to stick her head out. Nobody was there, except a red-colored envelope that was lying at her doorstep. She knelt down and picked it up. The beautiful envelope was sealed, with a waxed stamp that had a strange icon on it. It looked like a symbol of royalty. She carefully opened the envelope in anticipation, and pulled a letter out of it that was written in a strange old English handwriting.
The letter read:
Ms. Cindy
I invite you to a small party at my residence, tomorrow, at midnight. Please bless the occasion with your presence.
Of course, you could have a day off.
Love,
Catherine Biel
She was happy to receive the invitation, but felt skeptical. Why was Ms. Biel showering her with attention? Plus, with a wealthy crowd like that what would she wear? She had no proper party dress. Wasting her savings on a party dress and some make over wasn’t the best idea. So she just folded the invitation and put it back in the envelope. She shut the door and jumped right on to her bed. At least she had a day off. It was something to celebrate. But again she heard a knock at the door. This time, she was more confident. She quickly opened the door curiously to find a man, wearing a red t-shirt and a pair of jeans, along with a silly baseball cap, was standing outside, holding a big package.
“Ms. Cindy?” he inquired.
“Yeah,” her eyes were wide open, constantly staring at the package, and wondering whether it was for her.
“Sign here please,” he handed her a clipboard and a pen.