Death Wears A Black Basque
Raymond Daley
Copyright 13/2/12 by Raymond Daley
Smashwords Edition
She looked like an angel. Yeah, she was a real angel all right.
The Angel Of Death.
I don't know who sent her after me, there's way too many who've cursed my name with their final breath. Way too many in the hospitals carrying grudges with broken bones. A grudge weighs nothing, but it can be the heaviest of burdens to carry on your back for some people.
Everyone assumes two things incorrectly about Death.
1) That the Reaper would be Grim.
2) That Death is a man.
For me this was wrong on both points.
She was a Bounty Hunter and I was the guy with his head on the chopping block. Whoever sent her knew my weakness, dames with killer gams 'cause she had legs up to Friday and some to spare for a long weekend.
Black leather boots to the knees with heels high enough to cause Acrophobia.
The trench coat had hidden most of them, and the rest of the goods too.
She wasn't expecting trouble, as soon as that trench coat was thrown open I was stunned. About as much use as a traffic warden riding a kangaroo.
I saw, I came, she conquered and that was me - helpless as a newborn and under her spell.
Her lips moved but I heard nothing, I was beguiled. She waved her hand across my eyes, checking I was still all there. She spoke again but I still heard nothing. I think the beating of my heart was deafening me.
"Come quietly or there will be trouble" I finally heard her say. I had no problem going quietly.
Coming, lots of issues. Going, no reservations there.
I had a table prebooked, totally sold on going where ever she wanted. If that included Hell I had no problems there either.
The dame had class, eyes like cut glass and a mind just as sharp to boot.
I stood by the window, I was vaguely aware she was doing something behind me. Whatever it was clearly didn't involve me so I stayed where I was.
"Turn around" I heard from behind me. 'No point in delaying the inevitable' I thought to myself and turned around to face her.
"Who sent you?" I asked her. She smirked. On any other face that might have looked funny. On hers I just felt more scared than I already was.
"Haven't you already guessed? I would have thought by now it'd be plainly obvious" her voice was little more than a whisper but I had no trouble hearing her. She was the sole focus of my attention now.
"So are you ready to go now?" she asked me.
I didn't understand and I hoped the look on my face made that extremely clear to her.
"The job is waiting for you. It's been waiting for you a long time now. It was the one thing you could never hope to run away from. You know that." she said.
Of course I knew that. As soon as she'd finished speaking I knew that. Even if I'd been learning impaired I'd have known that. Hell, there were undiscovered tribes in the Amazon who knew that.
She gestured to the bed.
"It's time to put it on" she said.
"What?" I asked
"The last suit you'll ever wear" she replied.
I finally understood when the cloud lifted outside, partially raising the level of ambient light in the room. I saw what she'd been doing while my back was turned.
"Shall I close the curtains? For modesty?" Again she smirked at me with a subtle tone of humour in her voice.
I didn't need to respond, she'd already walked past me pulling the curtains firmly shut with a single fluid motion of her velvet gloved hand, heels clattering against the parquet flooring.
There was no point in offering any further resistance now I knew who had sent her, why she'd come for me.
I wasn't surprised to find everything she'd lain out fitted me perfectly.
I was, however, extremely surprised to discover I was now alone in the room when I turned around again.
Where she'd been were the leather boots, the long velvet gloves and the trench coat.
And a handwritten note.
I picked everything up and read the note.
'Look in the mirror' was all it said, it had clearly been written in lipstick. I recognised her shade.
The remaining instructions were unwritten but implied louder than any explosion.
The remaining items fitted me too. No surprise there.
I walked over to the mirror and had to laugh for the last time at what I saw.
I was the replacement, and I looked great even if I did say so myself.
Death Wears A Black Basque.
________________________________________________________________
Authors Notes:- Armed with nothing more than a title this little noir beasty was born quickly and easily.
Yes, I have used dialogue from both Robocop AND Men In Black. Oh, and Predator. Even if that particular dialogue was nothing more than two words. I couldn't help myself. Think yourself lucky I didn't use the line from Terminator as well.
Don't Ask.
Happy Valentines day.