A short horror story I wrote to bring more attention to eating disorders. This story is NOT for people with eating disorders because it has triggers in it. If you are dealing with an eating disorder please know I did not write this story for you to read. It is for those who do not have eating disorders to read, I hope after reading this they will have a better understanding of the horror that you and your loved ones go through on a daily basis.
I published this story in my published anthology ”Legends of Old” it is available on Amazon for purchase or for free if you have Kindle Unlimited. I hope you enjoy this story, if you do please leave a comment letting me know your thoughts.
“An Interview”
By: Violet Tempest
“Deep shadows from high cheekbones that jutted out of her pale skin matched the dark hair that fell across her face, hiding eyes which hadn’t shined with radiance in a long time. I watched her, sitting on the edge of the tub, waiting for depression to take her further into the dark abyss. There wasn’t any rush. In fact if done quickly it might not take, and I couldn’t have that.” The Creature said. Her voice feels like silk, each word caresses my ears, causing my skin to tingle; from fear or anticipation I cannot say.
“How long had you been with her?” I ask, my voice trembles, betraying my fear. She looks at me right into my soul.
“How long? Ah yes, you humans are always concerned about time. How many minutes it takes to do each, little, insignificant, boring thing that you do in life. You seem incapable of just appreciating, savoring, each moment of life . . . and death. To me, time has no meaning, not like it does for you. You ask how long I had been with her when really you should ask how well I knew her.” The Creature’s eyes dance with amusement and I can’t help but think there’s a hidden joke somewhere in there. I make a note to ponder it later when I play the tape back, looking for the best tidbits to put in the article. Right now I need to keep her talking, telling me how she does it, how she works her magic and seducesher prey.
“Okay, how well did you know her?”
She moves her head, sneering at the other creatures who sit in the dark corner on a worn sofa before she looks back at me. Her contempt laden reply gives me cause to hope I am never the object she looks upon with such disdain. “How well do you know your loved ones? How well do my co-workers know theirs? I knew Sylvia as well as you know yourself. Every breath, every beat of her heart, and every thought in her mind, I knew her better than she knew herself..”
“Loved ones? That’s an interesting description. I didn’t know you feel love, especially for your assignments.”
Her eyes remain on the creatures in the far back room but her gaze is off focus, as if she has traveled back to some other time, and I wonder if she is remembering the time spent with the assignment. I can almost see the young woman myself. Sylvia, that’s what the file said her name had been, but I haven’t heard her name mentioned once in the past fifteen minutes.
“What? You think I’m devoid of emotion? You think I don’t feel hate, love, and disdain? Or do you just believe hate is the only one I’m capable of? That since I take my assignments and help them find their way out of this world I’m nothing but a machine, like the one you have right there.” She gestures at my recorder. “One job to do, and do it without any feeling?” She asks, and her dark empty eyes lock on me. A cold that could have come from the Artic overwhelms me, causing my body to tremble. To warm up I try to lift the cup, to drink some of the hot liquid sitting in front of me, enticing me with its warmth, but the cup rattles against the metal top, spilling the coffee everywhere.
The Creature tosses her hair back and laughs. The crackling sound breaks through the cold and instantly I start to feel warmer, confirming earlier suspicions that she can do to me whatever she desires. I get the message, play nice.
“Did Sylvia finally move on?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm and respectful.
“That night she used the razor blade she kept hidden in her purse and cut deeper than she had before. I watched the water turn crimson while her life force left the self-abused shell behind. She paused there above her body, and looked down at it with detachment before noticing me. It’s during those moments I never know how they will react. Some are angry, some dismissive, and a few…are thankful. Slyvia was different. She panicked and tried to enter the shell she’d left behind, but it was too late. The heart had stopped and the starved brain no longer functioned.
“I had to take hold of her and turn her toward the next realm. She screamed and tried to dig her nails into me but she couldn’t hurt me. What? You don’t believe me? It’s true. You see, we don’t feel pain.
“But to answer your question, Sylvia did move on.”
The Creature pauses and the only thing I can do is wait patiently for her to continue. The ticking of the wall clock mixes with the fluorescent light that gently sways over us. This gives me a chance to examine – from what I hope is a safe enough distance – the differences in her outward appearance. When it passes directly over us, the light at its brightest, I see grey skin drawn tight over her collar bones, sinking into a hollow before rising over her breast plate. I imagine the hollows play out between each rib bone and I find I’m grateful for the loose fabric of her dark purple blouse covering them. The brightness fades when the light swings back leaving the impression of a fine porcelain doll, and I’m fascinated by the contrast of skeletal death and the fragile perfection I’m allowed to glimpse. She leans toward me and once again I find myself in awe of both beauty and destruction residing in one place.
Reminding myself of the reason for this interview I make myself remember my pitch to the editor of the magazine. I want to show beauty isn’t always what it seems, that sometimes destruction lies just beneath the surface waiting for the chance to snatch it all away. No matter how long the wait. His nod of approval would be the break I need. No one had ever shown this side of Eating Disorders before and this would be the interview that would gain me notoriety. Hell, I’d sought out this building for months before I finally stepped through the front door. It had felt like I’d won the lottery.
Now? Now I wonder if I’ve made a huge mistake.
A creak from behind me lets me know the door is open and I feel the air grow thick, becoming hard to breathe, and my interviewee’s eyes grow harder while the features of her face grow harsher. Something I didn’t think would be possible. A shrill voice hits my eardrums. “Well, if this isn’t a rarity. The fabulous Rexi between assignments.” An earsplitting laugh follows, and even though I know I should fear the one in front of me my mind makes note of the name, Rexi. Such a human name for an inhuman creature.
“I’m doing an interview, something you wouldn’t know about since no one cares about your uh, talents.” Rexi scowls.
I hear what can only be described as dragging feet while something creeps up in my peripheral view, slowly moving in front of me. I half expect another creature who I can describe as beautiful and disturbing in one sentence, but what comes into view will forever haunt my dreams. This creature doesn’t possess one ounce of beauty. With distorted angles her flesh sags in a way that it barely clings to her bones, one eye is close to the mouth and the other in the middle of her forehead, and the nose is off center. Staring at it I’m reminded of the painting by Francis Bacon that always hung over my ex-girlfriend’s bed. Memories of our nights spent together under that thing come flooding back and I shudder with repulsion.
This creature spits a green liquid that sizzles when it hits the worn linoleum floor, snapping my attention back to the here and now. Rexi laughs. “Ah, Brian let me introduce Lola. The ever gracious lady.” Rexi’s words drip with sarcasm, bringing forth a screech from the newest occupant of the room. I can’t help but think the only reason she doesn’t fall down upon us, ripping us – or at least me – to shreds is one of the other creatures in the room restrains her. Their arms wrap around Lola’s distorted waist while she kicks with such force I scoot my chair back to stay out of her reach. My heart beat speeds up while I watch her rip at the air, her long nails tipped with red.
“Ignore that bitch. She thinks she’s better than the rest of us.” The one who holds her says while the others agree, talking Lola toward the dark corner.
Rexi continues her taunts. “Thinks? Ha! I don’t have to decide what mood to be in for my assignments, or bring in outside elements to get them under my control. They listen to me.” Rexi smiles and taps the table with a finger that’s more bone than flesh. “Now then. Let’s continue shall we?” Her eyes twinkle with . . . not merriment but mischief, and I hesitate for a brief moment before continuing the interview.
“Has there ever been an assignment that you couldn’t finish?” My heart pauses when her eyes quit dancing with mischief and start burning with hatred. Will I regret this question?
Her nails scrape across the metal top, peeling back long slivers of steel. “You want to know if I’ve ever failed. If my talent is not all that you hear it to be? Would that make you feel safer? Would that reassure you that you will be allowed to leave here a free man? Hmm?” She leans across the table, her cold rank breath brushing against my face.
Fighting to keep control of my actions I hope she doesn’t sense how terrified I am, finally I find my voice. “I…It…It’s a legitimate question. I always ask the interviewee about any difficulties’ they face while on the job. So once again, have you ever failed to close an assignment?”
Her head leans to one side and the mischief returns to her eyes before answering. “Yes, even I have faced difficulties. There was one assignment that almost escaped, almost slipped through my fingers. Of course you will want a name, but first let me say she came to me young. Younger than the others, and it was because of her age I thought she’d be the easiest one to finish. And that assumption almost turned her into my failure.
“Her name was Emily. She was truly a happy, delightful child. Her laughter touched even my heart and her smile could brighten any room. There wasn’t a person who she came into contact with that didn’t fall in love with her, and according to her file she had a bright future ahead of her. One that would have changed the world. You see that’s why it was I who The Boss chose for the assignment. ‘She must not fulfill that destiny. You do everything in your power to keep her from it, even if you have to call in for help. Do. You. Understand?’
“I was arrogant. Me call for help? Did The Boss really think that I, the greatest of all mental demons, needed help with a little girl?”
Pausing here she picks the metal fragments out of her fingernails, and I check the recorder. There’s still plenty of recording space left so I wait. When her nails are free of the metal her eyes snap back to me. “Can you see me asking for help?”
I admit I cannot and for a brief moment I see a hint of gleam in her lackluster eyes.
“I didn’t think so. But you want to know more about Emily don’t you? I remember the first time I saw her. The clouds were particularly grey that morning, a comforting color don’t you think? Like I said earlier The Boss made it clear that this particular child was special and would take special care. So I took extra time to observe her. I got to know her movements, what she liked, who her friends were, and of course her favorite meals. It turned out that she and I had been brought together on her first day of school. I had never been this close to someone so young and to be honest I became infatuated with her.
“My fascination allowed me to study her with greater detail than any of the others before her, and it soon became clear to me, that despite her age, or lack of, she had a determined spirit and something unusual happened. I came to care about her. Really care, and I have to admit that fascinated me too. When she fell I found myself beside her, whispering comforting words in her ear. When she excelled at her school work I beamed with pride, and I found myself laughing at her jokes. Even though her friends couldn’t hear me I knew she could because she had started to talk to me.
“For the first time I was someone’s imaginary friend. At least that’s what her mother told her I was, but Emily knew I was real. Before I realized it the entire school year was gone and we were taking swimming lessons. This gave me a window of opportunity to start pointing out the differences between her and the other girls, girls who were taller, and yes a little older. Their bathing suits were two pieces and showed their slim stomachs.
“It turned out I hadn’t needed to do such things. The older girls were masters at making someone feel inferior. Especially one so young. Some of them made fun of her one piece bathing suit with the rather adorable cartoon kitten on the front, covering her round belly.”
Rexi pauses and I find myself wondering if I heard emotion in her voice. Had she choked up? Was that a tear welling up in her eye? She didn’t give me much of a chance to examine closer.
Once again her gaze focuses beyond me and only a slight smile indicates pleasure. My brain tries to wrap around the image of her being an imaginary playmate for anyone, much less a child, and my body shivers with fear. That fear distracts me from the creature in front of me and when she slides her hands across the table I jump from the chair, knocking it over, the clanging of the metal meeting the linoleum rings around me. Laughter erupts from the beings on the sofa and to my surprise Rexi’s eyes dance with amusement while a low grinding noise emanates from her. It takes me a moment to realize that she’s giggling.
She motions for me to look at the table and I see a folder where her hands had been a moment ago. Feeling a mixture of relief and weariness I sit the chair back up, my shaking hands cause the metal legs to chatter against the floor. I slide back into my seat, doing my best to arrange my thoughts before speaking.
She watches me with what I can only guess is curiosity, leaning back, her arms crossed in front of her, her head tilting to the side. The others in the room grow bored and go back to ignoring us. When I’m calm enough to risk opening my mouth without too much worry about getting killed I start to speak, but she waves her hand in dismissal. “Open that before you speak.”
Her eyes lead me to the folder she’d slid to me and with slow, careful movements I do as she requests. The sight repulses me, but I’m un-able to look away as I take in the contents of the folder. My heart skips a couple of beats and my stomach churns. The photos lying before me are not of a small child, but a preteen. A girl who should have been on the cusp of puberty instead looking wasted away, bones shadowing skin – there’s no flesh to speak of – along with dull eyes full of hate glaring at me from the photograph. Not knowing who this is I flip the front of the folder and see a name…EMILY.
How did I miss her name before?
“Intriguing, isn’t it?” She asks
That’s not what I would use to describe this. My thoughts reel and for the first time I realize I might never leave here. I gulp down the rest of the coffee in my cup, almost gagging. It had grown cold but I figure the caffeine would help keep my wits sharp. Setting down an empty cup I realize I’m not shaking.
“So how long did it take for her to succumb to your talents?” I ask.
“Oh she was strong. Stronger than most who I meet in their adult years. But that’s not what you asked. How long? Again with time, but then again, you are human.” Her eyes flicker to my arms and I feel my flesh tingle and I tug at the cuffs of the long sleeved shirt I’m wearing. The scars, some years old, coming to life, making the veins ache for the feel of the needle and the burn of the heroin mixing with my blood. Suddenly my body – no my soul – aches for the drug that took me away from the hellish memories of abuse.
One of the creatures in the back corner laughs and I sense movement toward me. Rexi fades in and out as sweat drips into my eyes and my teeth chatter. The laughing creature moves forward and the aches grow stronger and I cry out for relief.
“Enough! That’s not what he’s here for.” Rexi says to the one who’s coming for me. The creature stops and I hear hissing before sensing it moving back into the dark corner. My body returns to normal at a speed I wouldn’t have thought possible and I sit up trying to find composure, realizing that addictions are always lying under the surface and the demons are never far away.
What was I thinking coming here?
Rexi looks at me, her mouth curved upward revealing fangs and my heart skips a beat. My parched tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth and my throat clinches together, making swallowing difficult. I close the folder, my hands shaking, and hope that I make it out of here alive.
“Emily and I were together for seven human years. During our relationship I watched her grow from the innocent child I described to a sullen pre-teen. You must wonder how she could have kept me around. I know you are. But you see, that’s part of my talent. I had become her best friend, especially since all the others had turned their backs on her. Oh it was delightful to watch. The back stabbing chatter young females engage in? Yes, that was something even a creature such as I found amazing and couldn’t believe.
“You’re a male so you probably don’t have a clue how cruel the other gender can be to each other. Really, if you want the truth there isn’t much need for someone of my talents to interfere; not that I would tell The Boss that. After all, I do want to stay employed.
“The first couple of years I mostly observed, only occasionally pointing out her imperfections and then only as a brief whisper. Those were the years I built up her trust, knowing that would be the key to my success with her. At night when she worried about the monster under the bed I’d look and assure her there wasn’t a monster under bed.” Rexi chuckles before winking at me. “She didn’t know the monster was beside her all the time.”
“Her ninth birthday party was fabulous! We went to a boutique and got to dress up in tiaras, feathery boa’s, and put on make-up. Oh the guests were fabulous! They made snide remarks behind her back and I made sure she was placed to where she heard them perfectly. She didn’t know the remarks weren’t about her, that her friends were talking about a poor girl who she had invited. But she didn’t need to know that. For this assignment to succeed she only needed to believe they were about her.
“A couple of more years passed, and that’s when she began to purge her food. I wasn’t pleased. It was one thing for her to not eat, for her to move the food on her plate to look like she ate but to actually eat and then kneel before the toilet, holding the cool porcelain in her hands while she vomited all that food up…made me angry. I can’t stand my co-workers and that particular one is disgusting. I mean really, why have your assignment eat if they are only going to purge afterwards?
“But I didn’t have a choice. The Boss said I’d become too close to Emily. Pure bullshit! I fought against it, but in the long run I lost and had to work with Leema.
“So those two years were pure Hell for all of us. Emily would come to me and I’d hold her close. Comforting her with words while Leema would coax her back to the food before telling her how disgusting she was for eating and demand she get rid it. Afterwards, when Emily was curled up on the bathroom floor crying, Leema would stand in the corner laughing and it would be up to me to step in and comfort her, calm her down, before anyone heard her.
“What about her parents?” I ask. It seemed unfathomable to me that her parents didn’t know what was going on.
“Parents? Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you about them. Hmph, they were clueless for years and very easy to manipulate. Yes, I had to work on them too and that turned out to be rather easy. They would listen when the words came from the Doctor that Emily was over the weight requirements for her age, and when given instructions to put her on a diet they actually did that. Oh boy, some people are so naïve. Was she actually fat? No. She was no different than most kids thirty years ago, a little fleshy between growth spurts, but times change. Then they began to argue constantly, and my Emily would hide in her room so not to see it.”
“So, her parents were to blame?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Does it really matter? The end result is all that Leema and I were concerned about. Now, where were we in our tale before you asked that silly question about her parents?” Once again that skeletal finger taps the table.
“Ah, yes. We had made it to year eleven with cheeks that were thin, a stomach that was flatter than any I’d ever seen before, but when she looked in the mirror Leema and I would both show her an image of her old body. The fleshy parts still there.
“And I knew it wouldn’t be much longer. Maybe a year or two tops. Then she would finally find out it would be easier to leave this life than continue in the daily hell that she found herself. The introduction of grown-up music, clothing that looked more grown up than it should, and make-up brought new thoughts, images, and dilemmas for Emily to find herself in.
“For six years I had remained the constant in her life. Her parents had gotten a divorce so she was pulled back and forth between them, and I went with her. A year later and she was almost done. By this time her parents knew something was wrong but they blamed each other, neither of them seeking help for her. Like that would have helped. My grasp was strong and there wasn’t any way I would leave her. Not after all the time I had put in.
“Finally one evening after having gone a week without food, weak, her heart skipping erratically I knew this was the end. Emily had arrived back at her mother’s house after a weekend with her father, and her mother was drunk…and angry. She took her anger out on Emily, yelling at her, telling her she was selfish and that the divorce was her fault. That if she hadn’t been born the world would have been better off.
“Emily’s thoughts and emotions were all over the place. She yelled back. Calling her mother names that even I was shocked to hear, but she had her own cheering section. Both Leema and I were proud of her, and we knew this would be the catalyst. The one thing we’d been waiting on and we weren’t about to let it go to waste. I whispered in her ear how worthless her mother was, how the bitch didn’t deserve to live. ‘Wouldn’t it be fantastic if she died? Then you could live with Dad. At least he’s not a drunk, and he doesn’t blame you for the divorce.’ My words burned through her brain. Before she realized it she’d gone into the kitchen and I gave her the Butcher Knife. She gripped the handle tight, looking at the sharp shiny blade with fascination. One word. That’s all it took to put it all in motion…KILL.
“Her mother stumbled into the kitchen to berate her some more and Emily turned and stabbed her in the heart. But she didn’t stop. I watched in fascination as her adrenalin fueled frame repeated the movements over and over. Blood flew onto the walls each time she plunged the blade into her mother’s fleshy corpse. Emily dropped to her knees beside her, blood pooling on the cold tiles, and started to cry before she took the same knife and slit her wrists. Carving deep into her arms as she pulled it up her right forearm.
“I must admit, her ending was far more gruesome than either Leema or myself could have anticipated.”
“Hadn’t anticipated? You put the knife in her hand! What did you think she was going to do? Carve a piece of meat to make the abusive woman a sandwich?” My anger overrides the fear and for a moment I forget who I’m talking to. Indignation fuels me and I leap out of my chair, ready to throttle this…this creature with my bare hands.
Rexi jumps up as a cylinder drops down the chute, the sound metal slapping against metal squashes my anger, and suddenly I realize I am face to face with this horrible being who is looking at me like I’m a lamb brought for sacrifice. My fear returns one hundred times over. She seems to take delight in my face. Her smile shows her top teeth, the fangs seem to be particularly sharp. But instead of slaughtering me she walks over to the tube, opens it with slow, exaggerated moves, before removing the cylinder. Her co-workers gather around while she removes the slip of paper and a hushed quiet falls over the room. I find I’m holding my breath, fearful that the sound would draw their attention to me.
With their attention diverted I gently, but quickly, gather my coat and hat, then sling my messenger bag over my shoulder, the worn leather comforts me enough to gather the courage to make my move for the door. I walk backward, never taking my eyes off the small huddle, and when I reach the door my hand searches for the smooth metal handle. Only when it’s in my grasp do I dare to feel safe, that I will make it out of this den of destruction and death alive.
Then, when I can once again feel my heart beating, the sound of the voice I’d listened to for the past few hours brought it once again to a halt.
“Leaving so soon?” Her hollow eyes were once again solid black and looking at me. I feel my blood pool in my feet and silently pray to any god that will listen to save me from the clutches of this new found Hell.
I try to speak, to find my confidence, and hide my fear, but words fail me. My feet are heavy and will not move. A scream that can only be heard inside my head erupts, echoing off the inside of my skull as they all walk toward me, the piece of paper dangling from Rexi’s hand. My body shakes with fear but won’t let me beg for my life.
When she’s a couple of feet from me she stops, the others halt behind her. Their hisses and sneers making it clear they would still like to be stalking me, and for a moment they stand there, looking at me. Finally Rexi speaks. “It’s okay. We have received our new assignment so the interview is over anyway.”
Somehow I manage to find my voice, although it shakes with fear. “Oh…uh…well…then I sh…sho…should get going. You know, so you all can get to work and I can finish mine.” I pat the leather bag and tilt my head to see those that stood behind her. “So, uh, nice meeting you Rexi. Maybe next time I can interview one of your co-workers.”
She shakes her head and the others move from behind her, forming a half circle around me. “Yes. My co-workers. You see, about that.” She holds up the piece of paper she retrieved from the tube and in large letters I can make out a name. I try to scream. Try to run. They all move forward, closing in on me, their voices overpowering my screams until I can no longer tell where they begin and I end.
“Our new assignment it seems is YOU. Welcome to the family Brian.”
The End
Violet Tempest 