The Old Hand-Me-Down

Dust swirled in a ray of light playing between the heavy curtains, shining upon a heavy glass, half-filled with dark brown liquid resting on the old and beaten coffee table. Long elegant fingers played along the rim, tracing it once, twice, three times. With each revolution, the gesture became slower, more tired, and one could almost believe that new minuscule wrinkles appeared around the knuckles.

“Do you know what this is?” asked a low and raspy voice from the burgundy leather armchair. There was a pause, punctuated by deep, uneven inhales. Lips creaked into a humorless smile, showing a row of rapidly yellowing teeth: “It’s goodbye.”

With a sudden jerk, the woman rose from the armchair, pointing her glass like a loaded gun at the shining shining blue costume resting on the floor, untouched by dust or grime. “For-freaking-ever.”

The air was still and dry, like in an Egyptian pyramid, and yet there was movement. The edge of the costume’s red cape flapped like a fly’s wing. A ghost movement too fast for a human eye to catch and yet undeniable

“No. I won’t!” she replied with a sneer that deformed her visage, teeth barred and icy-blue eyes squinted with hatred.

Another ghost flap whispered in the dry air.

“Try as much as you want. I won’t… it won’t work.” She continued kneeling for a second, then lept back, almost as if the fabric was radiating heat. “It took me years, but I know how to stop you… for a while at least.”

A furious flap rippled the blue fabric and a ray of light caught the famous red and gold symbol upon the chest.

A flash of pity lit up her eyes for a second. “We’re pathetic, aren’t we? You’re a god in an urn that can’t do anything without me and I… I’m just your flesh puppet to consume. Like the great and powerful Oz…”

This time, the flapping was even more minute, almost imperceptible.

“Oh, I know you can.” she said, leaning forward into the light. A straight, elegant nose separated icy-blue eyes that could probably freeze a man at twenty paces. Immediately under, the lips were highlighted in a natural red colour that didn’t exist in nature and no sculptor in the history of the world would have been able to replicate the line of her chin. She was beautiful, somehow alien, utterly terrifying and… fading. The grey streaks in her voluminous raven-black mane grew wider by the minute, cracks forming at the tips of her lips.

A cough racked her entire body. “It will be over soon. For both of us.”

In the uneven light, the blue fabric seemed to tremble.

“I know—” another fit of coughing “I—I don’t have the means to destroy you… but you… you gave me the means to stop you. Funny how life turns around.” she commented, indicating the richly appointed studio, decorated with artifacts and lost treasure, trophies from all those stolen years. “You gave me the means to get all of this, but never told me the catch. Now, I can use those means to bury you.”

She took a swig from the glass. “This isn’t just cognac, my friend.” she breathed, as a drop escaped the curve of her mouth. Another fit and she knocked over the table, sending small colored pills everywhere. “See you in hell…”

With a thud and a creak, the massive old oak door gave in. After decades of honoured service, its duty was finally over. Two shades silhouetted against the dying afternoon light, one tall and lanky armed with a heavy crowbar, the other stout and chubby with a torch and a bag.

“Tell me again, why we had to come here.” said Lanky, air whistling in the gap of her teeth.

Chubby cleaned her thick-rimmed glasses and rolled her off-blue eyes: “For the umpteenth time. I got a letter from these lawyers. Apparently, I’m the last living descendant of the lady that owned this house… one Lara Ellison or something.”

“And that explains why you’re here. What about me?” insisted Lanky, running a hand in her green floppy mohawk.

“Oh Linda. Aren’t you my best friend?” replied Chubby with impish glee.

“Best friends don’t drag their best friends to a Scooby Doo house, Helena.” sighed Linda before changing the subject. “How many years ago did she die?”

“Lots. Apparently, her will was something of a mess. She left instructions to demolish the house and pour concrete all over, but it took so long to process it that this is now some kind of historical building… plus they never—”

Helena stopped. A half-whisper reverberated in the dry and immobile air.

“Did you hear…?”

“Yeah.” Linda breathed, then gulped, adjusting her grip on the crowbar.

Another ghost-whisper echoed across the mansion. Without a word, Helena turned on the torch and looked for the source.

“Over here.” she whispered, tapping a wall panel “Can you?”

With a mighty grunt, Linda slammed the crowbar between two panels. There was a crack and a spray of splinters and plaster revealed an opening… to what looked like the cavern of Ali Baba or a tomb from an ancient and forgotten monarch.

Thick curtains cast shadows all over a collection of lavish dresses and jewelry draped in cobwebs, works of art and rare books caked in dust, but two items magnetized the girl’s attention: a skeleton resting splayed in the burgundy armchair, like a mummy of an ancient queen and, just a few steps away, a glistening blue costume with a short red cape resting under a solitary ray of sunlight, untouched by dust or grime.

The pristine fabric popped out from the general brownness and grayness of the house, a shining azure like the Caribbean sea at sunset. It looked as if small waves rippled across the almost invisible stitches. Specks of gold and ruby reflected from the spotless insignia, playing across the young women’s faces.

Ignoring the grim reminder in the armchair, Linda and Helena inched forward, eyes glued to the glint of the blue garment. With almost religious reverence, they caressed the fabric. It was unreasonably smooth, even more so than satin or silk. That simple contact stimulated some primitive parts of the brain: it wasn’t just beautiful, it was beauty itself and more. The contact delivered a promise, a secret whispered right into the reptilian part of the brain: I have the power to make all your dreams come true.

The girls looked at each other with identical raring expressions. There was barely recognition, a lifetime of friendship drowned in a sea of desire.

Linda tightened the grip around the crowbar. Before she could swing, Helena lunged, her hand stretched toward her best friend's face. A last-second knee knocked the wind out of the shorter girl, who still managed to grasp the tip of the crowbar.

Neither let go of the costume or crowbar, turning the scuffle into a chaotic mess of kicks and bites, twists and headbutts. One savage jerk pried the crowbar free. The sudden shift in balance sent both girls sprawling to the ground. Groggy and winded, one pulled at the costume with all her might, while the other rolled over, clutching it to her chest with both hands.

The tug of war continued back and forth, one dirty trick after another. An attempt at strangulation resulted in both combatants rolling to the ground. Their faces centimeters apart, one girl bared her teeth trying to bite the nose of her foe, only to get head-butted straight in the jaw. Seizing the moment, the other girl rose, hunching to protect the costume, clutched tighter than ever to her chest

The library echoed with a primeval roar. The sound of an ancient predator claiming sole possession of this new bounty, defying all who would dare take it from her… and the implicit pact was sealed.

The fabric flowed like blue seawater around the young woman’s body, leaving her friend and opponent with a literally empty hand. In a heartbeat, she was covered neck to ankles in the unearthly material. It felt so good, a promise of power, pleasure and… pain! Trillions of nanoscopic needles pierced her skin, snaking their way to her organs and nerves. Every cell was analyzed according to ultramundane criteria, excised when deemed lacking and replaced. Her hair fell out, a sumptuous long mane of raven black growing in its place. She kneeled on the thick carpet, crawling on all four, as her arms, legs and spine stretched with the blood-curdling sound of bones breaking and reforming. Her shoulders widened to amazonian proportions, while layers of lean muscles pushed her now flawless skin outward. Eyes closed, mouth gasping, she strained her back as two tantalizing lumps on her now titanic chest.

With a heavy sigh of pleasure, the dark-haired beauty rose to her full majestic height, the red-and-gold logo stretched over her now Junoesque breasts, rising like a leviathan. Red boots encased the teardrop-shaped calves, ending in stilettos that pushed the armored globes of her derriere to the point that not even the drape of her now full-length red cape could fully hide their succulence… an almost unforgivable crime.

In a blur, she appeared, hands on her hips, straddling the other girl still sprawling on the ground. Stretching and flexing her arms with feline grace, she closed her fist and a sizable bicep obediently rose, pushing the shining fabric in a small blue mountain. With an elegant gesture, she whipped her luxurious mane back, revealing her unearthly beautiful face: icy-blue eyes, straight nose, unnaturally red lips and an impossibly graceful chin. “The pleasure of flesh… It has been so long.” she murmured in a voice that sent a sexual shiver down her friend’s spine.

Without even looking, the stunning woman wrapped her long fingers around this new helpless victim’s throat, lifting her as if she were made of tissue paper.

“Look into my eyes.” she commanded, her voice lilting like a lullaby and her grip slowly tightening “Can you feel it? Your brain is starving for oxygen. Vanishing. I can hear your cells shutting down, melting away… slowly melting. Focus what is left of them on my voice… Yes, like this. Let everything else fade away. I am your entire world now. Nothing is real but me. I am your goddess and my will is absolute.”

“G-goddess… A-absolute…” coughed the young woman starving for oxygen.

The diabolic lullaby continued: “Yes, absolute. My will is that you leave this house and forget what happened today. Your friend never showed up at the appointment and you two were never here.”

As conscience faded, the helpless mortal girl blurted: “I-I… *gasp* w-was never here.”

“Good girl. Now, when you hear my voice pronouncing the word ‘Alxmar’, you will put yourself in service to your absolute goddess.” she dictated before letting her victim drop to the ground like an empty sack.

With a single step of her long and muscular legs, the dark-haired goddess strode over the lump of quivering flesh that was her friend, reaching for a framed picture on the desk. “Adjustments have to be made.” she commented, staring at a many decades old perfect mirror image of her own hauntingly beautiful face.

Suddenly, she tilted her head and a cold smile formed on her lips as she addressed the quivering voice in her mind: “Consider it my first gift to you. You understand I could have easily ended her life in a number of ways. I spared her because she was important to you… and I will help you further your relationship, in due time.”

With a swoosh of her regal cape, she turned and waved open the curtains, smiling at the sight of the last sanguine light of sunset: “Such a little chaotic world, do you not agree?. Once again, it needs order, a firm hand to guide it… a job for the Superwoman.”