Beauty and the Beasts

Chapter Two- The Interview

The icy concrete seemed to make the street colder. It was eerie how the building loomed, almost as an afterthought. You couldn’t not see it, though it seemed to hide itself away behind the charcoal, black gothic gate. It emanated intimidation and secrets, standing with a front of eloquence.

 I stood there, double thinking my black army boots, not that I had many outfit options.  I could feel the small strip of newspaper becoming damp in my nervous hand, held tightly by my side.

“Now or never,” I breathed to myself, unlatching the gate. I listened to the crunching gravel under my heavy feet, trying to distance myself from my thoughts.

Knock…Knock…Knock…

The metal was cold under my fingers as I hesitantly slammed the door knocker.

“Welcome to The Raven, can I help you?” A petite brunette answered the door, she looked like a secretary.

“I…uh. I’m responding to the newspaper ad?” I didn’t know what I was doing here, I didn’t even know what this job was, why was I here?

Room, board and lifestyle taken care of. Services of personal needs required. Women only, between the ages of 18 and24.No piercings or tattoos permitted.  No children, no husband, no exceptions. For an interview, visit The Raven at 2213 N. Broken Rd.

From the small description, I figured it was some kind of burlesque job, something to do with being a prostitute or escort. It wasn’t much different from the current circumstances at home, but sometimes a change of scenery is needed.

“Right this way,” she smiled sweetly and led me down a side hallway, gesturing to a vintage beige couch.

“She’ll be with you in a minuet,” she informed before turning and walking away, leaving me alone in the strangely warm mansion. The house seemed to be professionally decorated in almost a vintage, Victorian style. Reds, blacks and golds accented everything. Vases and abstract paintings lined walls and filled corners.

“Come in,” a tall woman with dark copper-red hair opened the door in front of my couch. Her face was emotionless, though stern lines made their way from her lips and neck.

I nodded, walking into the deep blue room and taking a seat in the leather chair facing a large oak desk.

“What is your name?” She sat down across me, taking a fountain pen in one hand and placing it delicately on a pad of paper.

“Jaxsion,” I responded tentatively. “Jaxsion Melbrose.”

“How old are you, Jaxsion?” She didn’t look at me, hand furiously scribbling notes and thoughts.

“Nineteen.”

“Perfect. And why are you here?”

“I saw the newspaper ad,” I responded.

She stopped writing and looked me square in the eye. Her crisp, pale blue eyes searched mine, taking parts of me I didn’t know if I wanted her to have.

“That’s not what I meant, dear. Why are you here?” She asked simply.

I squirmed in my chair, fiddling with the hem on my long shirt.

“I need a job?” I answered more as a question of my own, not sure what she wanted.

“No, that’s not it, is it,” her response was not a question, but merely and observation.

“Please stand up, Jaxsion.” She rose from her chair. I picked up my bag, thinking the interview was over. Great, I can hear my mom laughing now, thinking I had finally gotten away.

“Put you stuff down, dear. I just want to look at you.”  She walked in circles around me, stopping to scribble something on the notepad she tucked in her arm. I felt out of place in my long black shirt and grey jeans, haphazardly stuffed in army boots. My hair was normal and down at least, but I was inadequate under her sophisticated stare.

“Please remove your clothes down to your undergarments, please.” Her request set me back a bit, but this is what I had expected before I arrived. I did as she instructed, slipping everything off slowly until I stood in the large room exposed.

A stout man came in the door, as if on cue. He took a fabric measuring tape out and started wrapping it around my legs, arms and waist. Measuring from my thighs to the floor and my bust. He stood and nodded in her direction and left without a word.

“You can dress and sit now,” she returned to her desk. “Do you know what it is we do here, Jaxsion?”

I shook my head, finishing tying up my shoes before I sat again.

“We are a delicate sort here. This business is very professional and very private. You will be contracted for a twelve month term. Once you have worked your term, you are free to do what you wish. Your pay will be… substantial. You will be housed here with the others. To put things directly, we have very high end clients that have needs to be filled. We will train you to properly fill those needs. You do not choose your clients, they chose you, and we help them with the match. You cannot stay more than two days with a client and we have very strict rules.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit, to make sure I was paying attention to the instructions sure to follow, “we have discretion rules here. We rely on this discretion and there are very heavy punishments for any breaches of this discretion. Do you understand?”

I sat for a while, letting the silence grow thicker, “yes.”

“Alright, before we sign any papers, I need to know if you are interested in the job.”

My stomach was in knots, bile rose in my throat.  I knew I didn’t have a choice, and this sounded like a street hooker’s dream job. I was no hooker, but I had a feeling if I didn’t take this one, that’s where I would end up.The room seemed to seep darker, pulling the black out of everything. The shadows seemed to watch me, waiting in anticipation for my answer that will determine the rest of my life. I breathed in deep and sat up straight.

“Yes.”