1. The lift descending


    Date: 10/2/2014, Categories: Love Stories, Author: Alexandra_A, Rating: 9, Source: LushStories

    purposes: alarm; emergency stop; door opening, to name but three. Music was an oft underused facility. I pressed play. It began. Her enthusiasm was contagious. 'Can you see it? Soaring, gliding, dipping, diving.' I closed my eyes. The music seeped into my ears, filled my head and overwhelmed me. 'Yes, I do. I see it. What is it?' She laughed. 'A bird, you philistine!' I laughed in return. 'I know! I can tell that - I'm not completely stupid! But what bird?' 'A lark. Do you not recognise its song?' I replied honestly. 'No. I have never heard one.' I considered adding how birdsong recognition is not high on the list of a killer's requisite skills, but wisely considered it inappropriate. 'Then listen! And close your eyes and watch it fly.' I saw it all. Set against a cloud-bank of shifting parallel chords, the violin imitated the creature's warbling cry as it hovered then dived and snatched up a scurrying vole in its savage clutching claws. Again it soared, its song a concentrate, a condensate, of the natural bucolic beauty that had once covered the now wasted Earth. Fighting to hold back tears, I wished the piece would end while simultaneously praying it would never end. The dying strains faded. I opened my eyes. Though it was obvious she had been crying, she had recovered her composure and was perched perkily on the arm of the couch. She turned to me. 'Thank you.' 'No, thank you. The pleasure was mine. What is it called? The piece you chose?' 'The lark ascending.' The irony ...
    was not lost on me. '"The lift descending" might have been more suitable...' She twisted her lovely mouth and looked me dead in the eye. 'Well, yes... but surely one has to fall to rise again.' More silence. Normally I enjoyed its mirror-like perfection; today it unsettled me. I searched for a reason and found none. Another blank whose unwanted presence further nibbled away at my incumbent certainty. Her words brought more teeth to the burgeoning feast. 'So you prefer predictable?' I was momentarily confused. 'Sorry?' 'You said the lifts are more predictable. Tell me, soldier, who but a killer prefers fucking predictability?' Another uncharacteristic profanity. Unexpectedly, slender arms encircled my neck and she pressed her body into mine. She gasped and her blue eyes widened, though the source of her astonishment escaped me. Moist and warm, her breath entered my mouth, its chemical composition instantly available for my appraisal. In immediate response to the unexpected incursion and precisely as programmed, I dehumanised my voice as much as was inhumanly possible. 'Ma'am, I am immune to such substances. Did you imagine my creators to be unaware of your hollowed teeth and the mind-altering drugs you secrete there? Your attempts to subvert me disappoint me - in every way.' Though barely a single shade short of sincere, her submissive tone was still undoubtedly counterfeit. 'Okay. I'm sorry. You win.' I trod carefully. 'No more tricks?' 'No, soldier. I'll come quietly.' A ...
«1234...89»