10-24-2020, 04:45 PM
A turning lock can be heard, then, the door slowly swings wide as a silhouetted figure enters.
It is Detective Delicato. She shuts the door and flicks on a light. Her years of training prompting
her to take a good look around the room before entering any further. First a Detective, always.
Clearing the scene, she slips out of her shoes and walks into the bathroom where she stands
looking into the mirror. Her long, luscious blonde strands reaching down to caress her shoulders.
"If that man thinks he's going to get to ME, he's got another thing coming!" she demanded.
But the longer she stood there, the more she realized just how much Johnny really had
gotten to her. It made her uneasy. Angry even. But it sparked something deep inside
that she hadn't felt in... maybe ever. And it scared her. She wasn't ready to deal with
this kind of fear. This was no mop-up job of finding the bad guy. This was Real.
She sighed deeply before disrobing for her shower. Maybe the warm rush of water could
wash him away. Not only from her thoughts but from her Heart.
[Later that night]
Delia laid comfortably beneath the covers, drifting ever closer to sleep. Burdened with those
thoughts she couldn't escape.
"He's a fool. And if there's anything I don't have time for, it's one of those!" she said unconvincingly.
"Just a damned fool!" as she slipped further into her dreams.
It wasn't long before a shadow took shape upon the Detective's window. Her unannounced guest
had arrived. Gingerly raising the rigged pane upward, Orville scholastically crawled through and
into Delia's room.
Without sound, he made his way to the door. Opening very slowly, the dim light of the hallway
grew long across the plush carpet of the entry. He stood there looking down onto the face of
his benefactor.
"You've done wonderfully dear boy, you may go now" said an almost condescending voice.
It was Gail Atwood. The woman who put this entire play to stage. Her dark character now coming
into full view. She slithered into Delia's room like the beginnings of a bad dream. Casting her
gaze in all directions even though the entirety of the room was awash in darkness. She had that
gift. It made her frightening. It was her Strength.
Finally setting eyes upon a sleeping Detective Delicato, Atwood slid malevolently
in her direction. Not before stopping briefly to lift Delia's overcoat from the back of a chair.
She felt its coarse, rigid texture. Raising it quickly up to her face, rubbing it onto her skin,
pressing it firmly, smelling it's fragrance. Something about it spoke definitively of a man's
presence. This excited her. She was certainly in her element.
She now stood above the unconscious Detective. An almost motherly compassion settled
onto her face. These long, silent moments.
"Just look at you, lying there. As innocent as soft, warm sunshine" Gail said in a whisper.
Unable to fight it, she bends down to smell Delia's hair. Drinking it in, passionately.
"You are the sweetest flower, my lovely" she said in an almost lovers voice.
Retracting just a bit, she caresses Delia's cheek with the back of her hand.
"Your flesh will become mine, beautiful lady" she said in a moan.
Atwood then stands fully upright, taking a deep breath, proceeding to the door
and disappearing behind it.
It is Detective Delicato. She shuts the door and flicks on a light. Her years of training prompting
her to take a good look around the room before entering any further. First a Detective, always.
Clearing the scene, she slips out of her shoes and walks into the bathroom where she stands
looking into the mirror. Her long, luscious blonde strands reaching down to caress her shoulders.
"If that man thinks he's going to get to ME, he's got another thing coming!" she demanded.
But the longer she stood there, the more she realized just how much Johnny really had
gotten to her. It made her uneasy. Angry even. But it sparked something deep inside
that she hadn't felt in... maybe ever. And it scared her. She wasn't ready to deal with
this kind of fear. This was no mop-up job of finding the bad guy. This was Real.
She sighed deeply before disrobing for her shower. Maybe the warm rush of water could
wash him away. Not only from her thoughts but from her Heart.
[Later that night]
Delia laid comfortably beneath the covers, drifting ever closer to sleep. Burdened with those
thoughts she couldn't escape.
"He's a fool. And if there's anything I don't have time for, it's one of those!" she said unconvincingly.
"Just a damned fool!" as she slipped further into her dreams.
It wasn't long before a shadow took shape upon the Detective's window. Her unannounced guest
had arrived. Gingerly raising the rigged pane upward, Orville scholastically crawled through and
into Delia's room.
Without sound, he made his way to the door. Opening very slowly, the dim light of the hallway
grew long across the plush carpet of the entry. He stood there looking down onto the face of
his benefactor.
"You've done wonderfully dear boy, you may go now" said an almost condescending voice.
It was Gail Atwood. The woman who put this entire play to stage. Her dark character now coming
into full view. She slithered into Delia's room like the beginnings of a bad dream. Casting her
gaze in all directions even though the entirety of the room was awash in darkness. She had that
gift. It made her frightening. It was her Strength.
Finally setting eyes upon a sleeping Detective Delicato, Atwood slid malevolently
in her direction. Not before stopping briefly to lift Delia's overcoat from the back of a chair.
She felt its coarse, rigid texture. Raising it quickly up to her face, rubbing it onto her skin,
pressing it firmly, smelling it's fragrance. Something about it spoke definitively of a man's
presence. This excited her. She was certainly in her element.
She now stood above the unconscious Detective. An almost motherly compassion settled
onto her face. These long, silent moments.
"Just look at you, lying there. As innocent as soft, warm sunshine" Gail said in a whisper.
Unable to fight it, she bends down to smell Delia's hair. Drinking it in, passionately.
"You are the sweetest flower, my lovely" she said in an almost lovers voice.
Retracting just a bit, she caresses Delia's cheek with the back of her hand.
"Your flesh will become mine, beautiful lady" she said in a moan.
Atwood then stands fully upright, taking a deep breath, proceeding to the door
and disappearing behind it.
