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Brent Streeter

Skin - Flash Fiction

Perfection.

The first word that came to mind as I watched the woman from across the room. Everything about her screamed it; the way she held herself in conversation, the people she surrounded herself with, even her mannerisms and ticks.

What would it feel like to be her?

I lived a life of isolation, excluded from society. Nobody noticed me, nobody gave me the attention I craved. It was infuriating. I was drawn to this city; a city where everybody was trying to be somebody. But this woman didn’t have to try. She just was. I felt the need to be close to her, like a moth drawn to a flame and its eventual demise.

I gathered myself and walked towards her, ignoring hands that brushed at me, trying to snatch glasses of refreshments off the tray I carried. I reached the group of sycophants that surrounded her and presented my tray.

“Some refreshments for our distinguished guests, perhaps?”

Our eyes met, and I felt a connection to this woman. My skin crawled beneath the gloves I wore, and I suppressed a shiver of ecstasy.

Yes, I’d give anything to experience life from her eyes. The eyes of a goddess.

Some of the group took glasses and then I was dismissed, forgotten once again. I continued circling the room, fulfilling the requirements of my post, all the while keeping the woman in my sights, studying her every move.

As the evening drew to an end and guests left, I slipped away. The proprietor would no doubt dock my pay, but I was unphased. Coin was irrelevant to me, and I couldn’t afford to let the woman slip away from me. I left the building through the servants’ entrance and hurried down the narrow alley shrouded in shadows, reaching the main avenue just as the woman climbed into a palanquin and set off down the busy street. I merged with the bustling evening crowd and followed.

The palanquin eventually drew up to a grand manor and passed through the gates, uncontested. My skin rippled with excitement. This woman would do nicely for my next experiment. I had never reached such a high status before, always choosing to feed from the bottom, biding my time, and going unnoticed until I had honed my powers and found the right body. The experience had always left me feeling unfulfilled, yearning for something more tangible. Tonight, that will end. Tonight I will seize power!

I slipped past the guards without issue. They just saw me as another servant of the manor. The grounds beyond were mostly dark, with some sections lit by lanterns. The manor itself was a beacon of light, and I could see the silhouettes of servants moving about behind drawn drapery, like a well-oiled machine.

Exquisite.

I circled the manor, keeping to the shadows until I found a trestle covered in ivy that reached up to a balcony on the upper floor. In a matter of moments, I scrambled up it and perched atop the balcony’s balustrade. An arched entrance stood at the opposite end. The room beyond was unlit and obscured by a thin veil of fabric that swayed gently in the warm summer breeze. I hopped off the balustrade and slipped into the dark room. And there I found her—the mistress of the manor—asleep within a beautifully crafted four-poster bed.

I crept up to her sleeping form and watched for a time. She was the essence of serenity. I felt the urge to caress her soft, unblemished skin. To feel her lustrous hair between my fingers. I smiled. Soon I would have it all.

Her eyes snapped open, and before I could react, she screamed. I cursed my ill-fated luck. Time was now against me. I could hear the pounding of footsteps in the corridor. I clambered onto the bed and, pinning her down with my weight, grasped her head between my hands.

This was not the way I wanted it to go!

The door to the room burst open and several guards rushed in, weapons drawn. Ignoring them, I locked eyes with the struggling woman. I took a blow to the head and my vision swam. Time was up and darkness descended.

Consciousness returned and with it, a sense of clarity. My skin crawled at the prospect of still being alive. I raised a tentative hand to my face and ran my fingers across the skin. I smiled.

Perfection.

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