DARK VISIT
Jasmine never knew what hate was until she had met Laura.
The woman who had made her do the things which had led her to
despise her own existence.
From the corner of her thoughts Jasmine heard a familiar
voice calling to her. Her mother, Elizabeth.
“Yes mother,” she answered sweetly, repressing all the
explosive anger she harbored within herself.
“Jazzy,” came her mother’s voice again. “Lunchtime
sweetie.” The tall, attractive woman opened the door to her
daughter’s room and peered inside. “Come-on sweetie, a lovely
young woman named Laura is here. She says she is a friend of
yours from work.” She smiled at Jasmine, who sat stunned upon
her bed, still wrapped in the warmth of her blankets. Elizabeth’s
brow furrowed slightly, her crystal blue eyes narrowing with
concern. “What’s wrong darling?” she asked anxiously.
Jasmine shook her head. “Nothing mother...”
“Well than,” Elizabeth gestured. “Why don’t you get
dressed and come visit with your friend.” She smiled softly,
totally oblivious to the rage that the lovely Laura was capable of
producing in her seemingly demure little girl. Of course Jasmine,
or Jaz as she preferred being called, was still a little girl only in
the eyes of her sweet mother. In actuality she was twenty-four
years old and stood at five foot ten inches tall. Her alabaster skin,
so smooth and flawless, gave her an almost regal presence. Her
raven hair fell like warm liquid strands too just below her strong
slender shoulders, straight and silky soft. Her facial bone structure
was proud and sculpted. And her eyes. Her crystal blue eyes, just
like mom’s, were as bright as the Pacific on a sunny summer day.
In a word one could describe Jasmine “Jazz” Monroe as
Breathtaking.
She climbed out of the warm bed and made herself
presentable. Even this usually simple task was a burden for her.
Everything she had been was now gone. And Laura had stolen it.
The rage only grew as she thought about the bitch actually being in her house.
“Maybe I could kill her with a table utensil?” she thought
to herself. “I could say I slipped as I buttered my bread.” She
smiled at the ludicrous thought. Her first smile in days. She
opened the door slowly and stepped into the hall. All around here
were memories. Memories of a wonderful childhood. A time
when all was good and happy. But now there could be no more
happiness. And the reason for that loss of grace was sitting
downstairs in her own house. She seethed with hate.
Now even this one last place of sanctuary had been
violated. Laura was here. She could feel the vile presence and the
stench accosted her flaring nostrils. All of her training, the training
she had learned to despise, was turning itself on as she slowly
began to tranform into the killing machine that she was. She
descended the staircase which led down into the brightly sunlit
living room.
She shrank away from the glare at first but quickly
embraced it as the soft warmth carressed her, wisking her for just a
moment, away from the burdens that she bore. But all pleasure is
fleeting, and this time it was Laura’s perfectly pitched voice that
rudely snatched away the gift of peace that Jaz needed so much.
“How are you Jasmine?” Laura cooed, in her most
seductive intonation. She sat at the small glass table that adorned
the windowed niche on the far end of the spacious living room.
Evidently mother had planned for them to take their lunch in the
niche. But Laura was there now, so never again would the quiet
corner be as pleasureable.
Jaz stared at her for a moment, grudgingly impressed by the
woman’s glamorous appearance. She was tall, slim and very
blonde. Her features were of a soft southern european origin. But
for all her subtle beauty Jaz knew that beneath the perfect facade
hid the soul of a monster. A monster who had made her into a
murder-machine. And now here she was again. She had dared to
foul the one remaining sanctuary of her wayward minion. There
could be only one reason for it, and Jaz cringed at the prospect.
“Hi darling,” her mother greeted, smiling her trusting
smile. Jaz smiled tentatively, her eyes never leaving those of the
wicked visitor. To the unknowing observer, like her mother, it
seemed as if Jaz were smiling at Laura. Happy to see her old
friend.
“How are you Jasmine?” Laura tried again.
“I am fine,” Jaz managed, through clenched teeth, fighting
to hold her smile in-place so mother would’nt sense the turmoil
she was feeling.
She sat down slowly, blue eyes still on the lovely face of
Laura.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her delicate features
held in calm repose, but only through a momentous effort on her
part.
“I’m here to give you your next assignment,” Laura replied,
a sweet, evil smile stretching her supple lips.
Jaz flinched ever so slightly, still mindful of her mother’s
presence in the room. How dare the bitch do this to her in her own
house, she thought. How could she compromise the safety of her
mother by coming here. An operative’s family had always been a
sacred thing. But now Laura, notorious for rule bending, was
blatantly breaking a cardinal law of the agency, even she would
not be able to get away with this infraction. There must be a very
urgent reason for this Jaz thought. She held the bitch’s glare.
“Mother,” she called softly.
“Yes dear,” came the melodic reply.
“Would you mind leaving us alone for just a little while. I
need to speak with Laura about some personal matters.”
The older woman looked at her daughter and than at Laura,
smiling sweetly.
“Certainly my dear,” she responded. “I will go and check
on lunch. You two girls have a nice little chat.” She excused
herself and disappeared around the staircase as she headed for her
kitchen.
Jazz leaned back to make sure her mother was gone. She
snapped her head back with the grace and speed of a falcon on the
hunt.
“What the fuck are you doing here!” she whispered
venemously.
Laura leaned back in her chair, clasping her hands behind
her head and smiling sardonically.
“As i’ve already stated Jasmine. I’m here to give you your
next assignment.” She held the young woman’s glowing blue
glare.
“How dare you come into my sanctuary!” Jaz spat with
guttural contempt.
“Oh relax,” Laura chuckled sarcastically.
Jaz stood up ramrod straight, her clenched fists
insticntually grinding into the tabletop, toppling over the
decoratively painted salt and pepper shakers.
“You get the fuck out of here!” she growled. “Before I...”
She could’nt finish the statement for some reason. So Laura
helped her out.
“Before you what,” she probbed, leaning forward slowly,
her light brown, nearly orange eyes narrowing slightly. “Before
you kill me?” she chuckled wickedly, breaking off the contentious
glare as she threw her head back in a sudden fit of caustic laughter,
her long blond hair flailing seductively in the warm sunlight.
Jaz looked back over her shoulder to make sure mother had
not come back to investigate what the raucous had been all about.
No sign of her. She sat back down, her expression taking on an
aura of defeat. Resigned to her fate.
“Who is it that you wish me to kill this time?” she asked,
the depression of her existence wrapping her in a melancholy
cloak of acceptance.
Laura leaned forward, her slender fingers reaching for and
lightly stroking Jaz’s soft, perfect face, a delicate hanky gently
wiping away the tears.
“You’ll be very excited over this new target that i have
choosen for you sweetheart,” Laura whispered. She smiled at jaz
as a mother would smile at her adoring child.
Jasmine’s gaze rose slowly, her brilliant blue eyes filled
with wetness, her expression pained as she nestled her face against
the carressing fingers.
“Tell me who it is,” she asked, her tone suddenly
expectant.
“This target will probably be the hardest kill you will ever
have to make Jasmine,” Laura warned. “Do you think you are up
too it?”
“Yes,” Jaz replied without hesitation, lost once again in the
instinctual nature of her training. Unable to separate herself from
the obsessive need she had to kill. And the woman who sat
carressing her face was to blame for it. Oh how she hated Laura.
Yet how she longed for her love and attention. How sweet it was
when she touched her. How could the bitch be so tender and
loving as her soft fingers now professed yet send her minion out
into the darkness to snatch-up lives? Tears filled her blue eyes,
running silently down the soft supple curve of her cheeks,
dropping away into oblivion.
“Are you sure sweetheart?” Laura probed. “Are you certain
that you could kill again? It’s been a while since your last
assignment.”
Jazz took Laura’s smooth hand into her’s and lifted the
delicate fingers to her lips. She kissed them with all the longing of
a lover, yet there had never been true love between them. Only the
facade of love. Like everything else in her life now, Jazz knew
that it would amount to nothing. And the rage swept upward
inside her again. She began to squeeze Laura’s fingers, crushing
both flesh and hanky. Tighter and tighter her grip became as she
feasted on the expression of hurt that uncharacteristically spread
across Laura’s lovely face.
“You are as much of a bitch as I am!” Laura protested,
jerking her hand from Jaz’s iron grip, placing the crushed hanky
back into her purse.
“I could never ascend to the level of your bitchdom,” Jaz
spat, her blue eyes narrowing as the bloodlust rose within her.
“Now tell me who the target is!” she whispered dangerously.
Laura held the hungry gaze for a moment longer, allowing
herself to regain some control over her scattering emotions.
Jasmine always knew just which buttons to push. Of course, she
knew about Jaz’s buttons as well. She smiled at the young woman
and leaned back, regaining her composure.
“Me...” she finally announced. “I ‘m your next target.”
She smiled as she held Jaz’s quickly frowning expression.
“You..?” Jaz echoed confusedly, her eyes mere slits as she
sized-up her newly announced quarry. Instinct was a hard thing to
switch-off once it was on. But she meant to try. “I refuse the
assignment,” she finally managed.
Laura edged closer, leaning forward, squaring her gaze
with Jaz’s. “If you don’t accept the assignment...” She paused for
a moment, knowing that after her next statement there would be no
turning back. “I will kill your bitch mother. And you know that I
will make her suffer Jasmine.” She dipped even closer toward the
beautiful young killer. “I will make her suffer a thousand times
before I kill her.” She held Jaz’s changing gaze, which went from
confusion to realization to rock solid determination.
“You won’t leave this house alive,” she spewed with
heated hatred.
“I know,” Laura agreed, relaxing as she leaned back in her
seat, her face soft and gracious again. As if a burden had been
lifted for her. “But you realize that I can’t make it easy for you
sweeheart.” She smiled sweetly. “It’s a matter of principle you
understand.” She smiled again.
Jaz stood up and moved away from the small table.
“Why,” she asked. “Why does the agency want you dead?”
Laura shrugged. “I’ve seen one too many things i was not
suppose to see. You know how rigid they can be. My fate was
decided based on the calculated risk I posed to the agency as a
whole. And in a milisecond, without regard to loyalty or fairness,
my fate was sealed.”
“So why not just run,” Jaz asked, knowing the answer even
before she finished asking the question.
Laura chuckled softly. “You know the answer to that
sweetheart. No one runs from the agency for very long. Not even
one of it’s own operatives.” She smiled sweetly, her face taking
on an almost motherly calm. “So i requested that they allow me to
pick my own executioner. And I chose you Jasmine. For obvious
reasons.”
Jaz turned to face Laura. “They aren’t obvious to me,” she
offered in a whisper, the mixture of rage and love that she felt for
this woman tearing her apart inside. But Laura had threatened her
mother. There could be no other solution now. She would have to
eliminate her. That was the single truth left for her to grasp onto.
“So how do you want to handle this?” Laura asked calmly,
still smiling softly.
“It depends on how much of a fight you’re intending to put
up?” Jaz replied, her own refined and professional calm taking
over for the tortured girl that quietly faded to the background of
her trembling soul. “But first,” she persisted. “Answer my
question. Why did you pick me as your executioner?”
“You are the closest thing to a friend that I have Jasmine.”
She looked away for a moment, than truned back. “I knew that
this day would eventually come. It does for all of us who are
unfortunate enough to be tied to the agency. The best that any of
us can expect to receive at that point is to be eliminated by
someone who might hold enough respect and affection for us that
they will make the kill quick and clean.” She held Jaz’s gaze.
“Will you do that for me Jasmine?”
“I’ll make it as quick and clean as possible,” she answered.
“Good,” Laura acknowledged. “So...Let’s get to it then.”
She stood and Jaz immediately backed away, her hands
disappearing behind her back, up under her silk blouse to the small
of her smooth back, where the small beretta waited patiently for a
call to action.
Laura’s hand had glided, almost undetected, to the left side
of her upper hip inside her jacket. She grasped the cool of the
pistol’s handgrip, ready to do battle with the nemesis she held in
such high regard. She smiled at Jaz. The young woman returned
the calculated grin.
“So the game begins,” Laura spoke softly.
“Indeed,” Jaz replied. “Stay clear of my mother,” she
warned, "or my promise to take you out quick and clean will turn to
a promise of lasting pain before I shut your eyes for good.”
“You have my word,” Laura assured her, each holding the
other’s glare for a moment longer before they both disappeared
from the brightly lit room, away into the shadows where they were
both most at home and lethal.
Jaz’s mother re-entered the room, discovering that both
women were no longer there. She heard a thumping upstairs and
turned toward the noise.
“They must be up in Jazzy’s room having girl-talk,” she
muttered to herself. “I’ll leave them be to enjoy each other’s
company.” She disappeared back into her aromatic kitchen,
oblivious to the battle that was about to be waged.
Jaz’s knowledge of the battlefield would give her a definite
advantage and Laura knew this. To compensate for that reality she
decided to deploy her faithful companions. Into her purse she dug
and as delicate fingers re-emerged she clutched within her hand a
pair of medium sized rats. She smiled to herself. Jasmine would
freak when she saw the rats. Thanks to some experiments she
herself had performed on the young woman some years before in
an attempt to discern just how much pain she could sustain.
Jasmine had proven very adept at dealing with pain. But everyone
had their limits, even Jasmine. And the white rats sharp daggerlike
teeth had been the crucible that had nearly taken her sanity. Laura
smiled again as she reached into her purse and pulled out the
hanky she had used to wipe away Jasmine’s tears only minutes
before. Now she rubbed the soft garment into the protruding faces
of her furry companions. She knew that Jasmine would have
headed upstairs in order to try and steer the battle away from her
mother. She placed the rodents on the carpeted stairs and watched
as they picked-up the scent and began their ascent in search of
their prey. Laura smiled, knowing that the battlefield had just been
leveled off.
Jaz lay still, her breaths coming very slowly, just as she’d
been trained to do. A complete and utter calm had settled over
her. The hunt always did that for her. Always brought her to a
utopian peacefulness in a way that nothing else could.
“What was that?” she heard herself say deep within her
head. It wasn’t really audible the words she heard. More a feeling
than anything else. A sense of movement outside the room. She
had let the door ajar, two inches of opening that she could keep
watch through. She shrank back, pulling herself further away
from the edge of the metal frame. She was under her own bed,
watching and waiting.
Laura’s shoed foot suddenly appeared outside the crack in
the door. The gap widened as she pushed it in, but she didn’t
enter. Instead she moved on down the hall silently. Jaz was
shaking and chided herself for such a stupid reaction. Laura was
just another target. There was no need for concern. She had
eliminated dozens of targets in the past. But Laura was different,
wasn’t she. So many conflicting emotions surged within her mind.
And emotion got you dead in this business. She clenched her teeth
and forced herself to calm down. That utopian stillness returned
immediately. It was time to move. Her quarry had come to play.
She rolled silently from beneath the bed, nimbly rising to a
defensive crouch, both hands out in front, beretta held level at the
door. Laura had not doubled back. Stalking time...
Jaz moved smoothly to the door, opening it slowly. She
was out of the room and silently padding down the hall with
graceful, lithe strides. Her efforts were quick and precise, her
sparkling blue eyes wide with anticipation and concentration, her
fingers gripping the small beretta a bit tighter than usual. Perhaps
she was not as calm as she needed to be?
Suddenly a shadow, and Jaz slipped through the open door
into her mother’s room. She heard the muffled footsteps
approaching. She scanned the room. no time to slip under the
bed. Damn!, that left only the closet, and the memories and smells
that would surely shake her up even more. She had no other
alternative. She’d have to chance another rush of emotion. In a
split second she had swung open the closet door and disappeared
into the small enclosure filled with clothes and smells of the past.
The images instantly assaulted her. There he was. Young,
strong and handsome, with the smile that always made her feel like
a princess. He was the warmth in her life. The influence upon her
that had molded her into the happy little girl she had been. But
than that awful day. The day they had found her dad. Found him
hanging in this very closet. “Oh God!!” she nearly screamed,
managing only at the last moment to control the sudden urge. The
tears streamed down her cheeks as she rubbed the soft of “his”
jacket sleeve against her face. “Oh why did you do it god!?” she
pleaded through trembling lips, her words barely audible.
Everything was coming apart, and outside the turmoil strewn
closet, the most dangerous adversary she had ever faced was stalking her
with crystal clear concentration.
It was at about this time the she heard a familiar voice.
“Jazzy,” came the call. “Are you two girls having a good
chat?”
“It’s mother!” Jaz screamed within herself. Without
thinking she opened the closet door, leaving behind the sadness
and tears, racing from the room. She knew Laura would use any
means necessary to win this little contest she had so skillfully set
in motion. Like it or not, her mother would be a pawn in Laura’s
strategy.
Out into the hall she sprang. She heard a door open behind
her, at the other end of the hallway. Laura stepped into the hall,
beretta held ready. Jaz lifted her weapon as well, her youth giving
her the speed she needed to squeeze the trigger first. Laura knew
she had been beat and with the lightning speed of a cat she dove to
the floor just as the explosion ripped apart the heavy silence.
Jaz was stunned as time seemed to slow down, her crystal
blue eyes watching as the bullet cut it’s path through the air,
straight toward the staircase.
Out the corner of her eye she was vaguely aware of Laura
moving. But her attentions were concentrated on the staircase.
“Where was mother?” she thought to herself. It was
definitely her mother’s voice that had brought her from her hiding
place in that dark, screaming closet. And still she watched the
deadly projectile racing toward the staircase. Her eyes blistered
with regret as she saw a tuff of black hair rise into her view. The
tuff of hair rose and her mother’s beautiful, peaceful, smiling face
came into view. And the bullet cut a track straight for her.
“Mother!!!” Jaz screamed, unable to move. The woman’s
expression changed from a happy smile to a smile of confusion as
a sharp pain invaded her chest. The merciless slug had sliced
clean through her pumping heart, exploding her soul as it exited
her body. The last thing she saw was her daughter’s face, but then
a deep darkness came and swept her away, the remnants of what
she was tumbling back down the carpeted staircase.
Laura knew that this was her chance. She sprang to her
feet and trained her weapon on Jasmine. The young woman still
could not move, the realization of what she had just done wrapping
her in a sickening awareness.
Laura wanted to say something but she couldn’t. The look
of absolute loss on Jasmine’s face kept her from intruding.
“Was that mother?” Jaz asked confusedly. “Is she alright?”
she asked softly, her arms at her side as she took two choppy steps
and halted shakily, her mind almost completely gone now. But in
a moment of clarity that comes as a last gift before madness, she
asked of Laura.
“I thought it was you that was suppose to die? Now it
looks like it’ll be just mother and I that die today.”
Laura smiled. The bitch was cold. Very cold indeed.
“Hey,” she shrugged. “I knew I wouldn’t stand a chance
had you thought that you were the hunted. But thinking that your
assignment was to kill me...” She shrugged again. “I knew that
the emotion you held for me would give me the edge I needed. I
knew that here in this house with your mother and all your
memories, and now the knowledge that your supposed assignment
was to kill me...Well I knew that if anything all of that would be
too much. Even for the great Jasmine Monroe.” She laughed
softly, but wickedly. “And I was right, wasn’t I?” she prodded
sarcastically, gun still trained on her target.
“Yes...” Jaz replied, her crystal blue eyes clouded and
empty.
“Goodbye love,” Laura whispered, pulling the trigger with
absolutely no remorse.
Like with her mother only moments before, the bullet
ripped clean through Jasmine’s heart. She staggered back and hit
the far wall. She was catapulted forward several steps until her
legs buckled and she fell to the floor with a soft thud, the gun in
her hand shaking loose and tumbling down the hall close to the
crouching Laura, still in her shooting stance, the staircase just
behind her.
She looked down at the gun and a smile slowly carressed
her lips. She had won. She had taken out the legendary Jasmine...
Victory was hers. Every fiber in her body tingled as she reached
for the weapon.
Just inside the door of the bedroom a few feet away a pair
of white blurs appeared. Laura had put the gun to her face in a
sick display of bloodlust.
Like bandits from out of the shadows the furry duo leapt at
the source of scent they had been searching for, Jasmine’s aura
still warm upon the small sleek weapon.
Before she could react the rats were clawing and biting at
her lovely face. In a hail of screams Laura flailed her arms,
slapping at the possessed rodents. As she stood she lost her
footing and cascaded down the staircase, breaking her neck as she
tumbled, her life coming to an end before she came to rest on the
warm carpeted landing, Elizabeth just a few inches away, the
sweet smile still on her face.
The furry couple scampered down the stairs, investigating
for a few moments before hurrying away toward the open door
beyond and the aromatic kitchen, where the, Lunch that never was,
sat quietly upon a trio of serving trays.
The End...
Moral: Never trust a woman who carries rats in her purse...
hahaha
Unpublished Works © 1997 GJB
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