A Potential Friend

Beatrice's manager was still shouting and hailing insults at her in the kitchen, Susan came in through the wall, no one saw her. She saw as Beatrice's colleagues watched, unable to do a thing, she took two steps forward.

The manager turned. "Everyone, back to work."

They all moved.

The manager noticed Susan. "You, what are you doing back here?"

"Waiting for you, sir," Susan said.

The manager looked at her and noted she had a beautiful smile. He gave a single nod and turned to face Beatrice. "You, you know what you're supposed to do if you're to keep working here. Now, excuse us."

Beatrice's head fell, she walked away.

The manager turned to Susan. "How may I help you, miss…"

"No need to know my name. I think you're handsome, and I wish to get down with you."

A painful frown disappeared from the manager's face, surprise graced it, then a smile appeared, and he said, "Let me go to my office. I'll be with you in five minutes."

The manager moved, Susan split herself into two.

Susan turned to her other identical self. "Follow him, and do all he asks of you. Be nice to him, till I return."

Then Susan moved to sort Beatrice out in the bathroom. She found her crying before a mirror, and she was trying to wipe the stains off her uniform.

"I know what he wants you to do," Susan said.

Beatrice turned to notice her, and briskly wiped her eyes. "Sorry, miss. I didn't notice you. I was just finishing up."

Susan got closer, placed a hand on her shoulder. "Look at me."

Beatrice, reluctant, made a slow turn to face her.

Susan examined her for a second, she had to remind herself that she hated her, else, she would impale her in this bathroom now the temptation was high. She placed Beatrice's head on her shoulder, and held her close.

"Do not sort him out tonight, or any other night ever again," Susan said.

Beatrice retracted her head. "I have a criminal record. It would be difficult finding another job. I have to keep this job."

"Just trust me. You won't be getting pregnant for him anymore, neither would he be telling you to abort any more babies."

"How did you—" 

"I know things. In fact, how would you like to run this place?"

This made Beatrice smile.

She was beautiful, Susan noted. Not like her anyway. Hers was more surreal, and cloaked with wickedness, and deadly intent.

"I could never," Beatrice said. "Not even if I dreamed of it. Life really isn't what it should be with me. And if I should go back, considering how I grew up, I'll still be making the same mistakes. My father used to sleep with me, too. So, I can't say it's a life I can run from. It's amazing I can still get pregnant, even after my countless abortions."

Susan sighed. "I could fix that. How would you like to leave your toxic neighbourhood to come live with me? I could take care of you." 

"There's this guy I stay with. I couldn't even suggest it to him."

"Let me worry about that. Now, pull off your uniform. Let me get those cleaned off."

Beatrice did as Susan instructed, Susan took notes of the purple bruises all over her body.

Susan was tempted to ask who did those, but she already knew. No point to ask and wait for an explanation. No, there was no point at all.

Susan took the uniform from Beatrice, she turned and walked up to the tap. She put on the tap, but didn't put the cloth in the water. What she did was look at the uniform and run her hands through the stains which disappeared. She turned off the tap, moved her body to face Beatrice, she handed her the uniform.

"How did you—" 

"Old family trick," Susan said. "I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. Just know my mom taught me well."

Beatrice smiled. "Thanks. It's so clean and dry, like you didn't put it in the water."

Susan smiled and watched her get into the uniform. "Are you sure you want to keep working here?"

"I really don't have a choice."

"What if you do get to choose?"

"I think I'll like to have a coffee shop."

Beatrice thanked her once more, and turned to leave.

Susan watched her walk out of the bathroom, then she disappeared.

Beatrice's manager had been driving with a duplicate of Susan without knowing. Not that he could anyway.

"My place is just around the corner," he said, and turned the steering, the car rode left into Lang Street, moved a bit forward, then parked between a line of cars parked before a row of houses.

"I see no need why we have to go all the way in when we could just do it here in the car," Susan said looking at the house, then she turned her head and settled her gaze on him.

The manager smiled. "I see what you mean love, but there's enough privacy in—" 

Susan kissed him. "Leave the car running, with the air-conditioning on. That way, we won't sweat." Again, she kissed him.

The manager, before surrendering his gaze to her wild kiss noted that the street was quite empty, and his car well concealed between cars, he broke the kiss and moved to the back seat which had tinted glasses.

Susan smiled at him and joined him at the back. She helped him undress, and stroke his hard bulging need, she then put him in her mouth.

He looked up and moaned, the wetness and warmth of her mouth drew him a bit closer to the edge.

She removed her mouth around him, her hands took him and gently fondled him.

"I'm gonna…I'm gonna—" the manager said.

And just as his seed spilled from him, razor-sharp nails sliced deep through his neck, causing his lifeblood to spill all over, a look of surprise graced his face as his hand went for his neck in an attempt to enclose it, so maybe he could scream, but no, he couldn't.

Susan drew back and watched him choke, she looked down and smiled at his need.

"I wanted to do this at the cafe, but nosy police officers and their investigation would have closed it down," Susan said, "plus, I really like that place and the workers you keep there. Sad of you being unfair to them."

The manager fell sideways, unable to breathe, his eyes wide with shock, fear played around him at the sight and warmth of his own blood.

"Not that I care, but that's for all the dead unborn babies you've ordered killed," Susan said. "See it like this. They ordered an unseen hit on you, one I gladly accepted. Or if that doesn't fit, see this as a sentence."

Life left him, Susan noted his body did turn cold, then she vanished into thin air like she was never there.