Lament of the Traitor King (Complete)

Chapter 3 - Reparations (Minor Edits Made)

"So this is where a Witch works?" It was the third time that Ash had asked it since she had walked into the employee's room.

She had decided, some time ago, that it was time to make a sustained effort to ignore the creature. She was, after all, back in tight quarters. Netta had finished taking her coat off and had pulled her logoed cloth visor on when she heard It speaking indignantly.

"This is what you do?"  He scoffed. "You have a body. Strip."  Leaning so that Its arm was dangling on top of her opened locker door, Ash stared at her as she walked away from her locker.  "Anything - it's better than this."

As though in answer to her unspoken question, It followed up, adding, "It's all customer service. Do you know what that is? You take the undeserved derision of one of those - those Humans.." It scoffed, the rough-edge burr of Its voice sounding like sandpaper rubbing against itself. "At least as a stripper you'd have the ability to, I don't know, hone a craft that would come of use to you in the future." Its voice dropped in what could be described as some wild cat's purr. "For me."

Netta sighed and readjusted the collar on her polo. How had she dealt with the Monster, previously, in those last twenty-four hour periods? How had she coped with this in-between period before she could banish It?

It was the presence of someone in the doorway that derailed her train of thought.

Netta leaped, the nonsensical fear that someone else could somehow see her tormentor overwhelming her.

Regaining control of herself, Netta turned, then recognized the slumped posture of her boss.

"Did someone call off already?" She asked, knowing before she did what the answer would be.

Goddess, Netta thought, as she saw the people streaming in through the entrance. who would have thought that everyone on the subway ride this morning was coming here to eat?

It was a thought that might not have been off from the truth. The line seemed to never end, with every person that she took in seeming to only make space for two more people after them.

Still, Netta worked, the lone person on the register. When she had the chance to look out of the windows, blocked often by the snake-like line of people as well as those who sat at tables with their meals, she saw evidence of the worsening cold and snow outside.

Despite the weather outside, with the heat of the kitchen only separate from her by the counter that was a left-over from its days before as a diner, she felt hot, almost boilingly so. When she had a moment free, it was all she could do to not pull at the ugly collar of her uniform's polo, unsticking it from the sweat caking it to her neck.

Taking the money from a haggard-looking man, Netta shoved the money into the drawer and flinched, feeling the spreading, icy fingers of a headache beginning on her right temple.

Netta knew that she had ignored the obvious signs of her Human allergies and was due at any time to suffer the deeper effects of it.  She shuddered.  Just a bit longer.  Someone could always come in, could just be late because of the weather -

"Feeling sick, aren't you?" Ash was there, behind the counter. It had been watching her at the register, far too closely for comfort.  The Monster continued to speak. "It's this close proximity to this many humans." It snorted.

The disgust in Its voice something that even Netta could not disagree with. How could she? Netta was an hour deep into this unceasing flow of people through the doors.

She knew that, increasingly, she was showing her fatigue from being trapped with more and more of these people's energy beating at her. How much like a corpse did she look like, to these thankfully oblivious-as-always Humans?