THE UNDYING | TWILIGHT

8. Taste of Luxury

At six o'clock, Heidi was still sitting in the lobby of Volterra's luxury day spa, which catered specifically to the elite class. Of course, the occasional infestation of tourists and coupon-holders did occur, an event seldom enjoyed by the regulars. Most would smile and behave in a gracious yet condescending manner. "You must feel really honored," the women would often say to the newcomers. Small wonder why those lucky few never returned for a second visit, but the regulars certainly didn't miss their company.

For a day spa, a place of relaxation, the lobby itself wasn't very cozy. In fact, it was rather cold and sterile, with a modern, monochromatic design. Wearing a deep red dress, Heidi stuck out like a spot of blood on a newspaper. She liked to think that was the reason why all the customers were staring at her, but she knew better. Hard to say which type she hated worse, though: the men who leered out of lust or the women who glared out of envy. Honestly, she detested them both equally.

"She's resisting," said one of the estheticians to Heidi as she entered the lobby in a fit, probably because she had hot wax on her clothes and in her hair.

Heidi rolled her eyes. "So tame her. Hold her down, tie her up, sedate her. Do whatever you have to do to get the job done."

The woman scowled. "None of the other girls were this difficult."

Heidi reached for a magazine and started flipping through the pages. "Why are you still talking? You have work to do, don't you? If you can't do the job, I'll find someone who can. You're all easily replaced."

Without another word, the woman went back to work.

Honestly, it's so hard to find quality employees these days, Heidi went on thinking. Gone are the days when servants obeyed without question. Now, all I get is this — With a quick snap of her wrist, she used the magazine to slap away a man's groping hand from her knee. — disrespect!

The girl emerged an hour later, shivering and whimpering like a dog who'd just been stripped of all its fur. From the frightened look in her eyes, one would think she'd been cruelly violated in that room, but sometimes such a painful and forceful process was necessary to achieve beauty.

Was it successful this time? Not entirely. On the surface, she looked presentable enough, like a old penny all shined up, but she was still just a penny.

"Not the best work I've seen," Heidi commented, throwing stern look of disapproval toward the esthetician, "but an improvement, no less." She rose from her seat and smiled. "Let's press on."

Inside the car, Dahlia sank into her seat like she had no bones in her body, but she ignored any glares from Heidi that might persuade her to rise. For the duration of the ride, the girl was fixated on the smoothness of her bare skin.

"I didn't even know skin could feel like this," she said in fascination as she ran her hands down the length of her arms, and she did the same to her legs.

"Well, most people don't want to look like monkeys," Heidi curtly replied.

"But we come from monkeys," Dahlia said, grinning like a child. "Perhaps that's how we should look."

She waited for a reply, positive or negative, but it never came. Falling silent, Dahlia resorted to an old nervous habit and placed her fingers into her mouth. As soon as her tongue touched the tips of her manicured fingernails, she started gagging. "What's that awful taste?"

"A special solution to deter you from that nasty habit," Heidi answered. "I won't have you destroying all the work I've done."

Dahlia opened the window and spat the bitter taste out of her mouth. "Well, you could've warned me."