It was just another one of those days, you know the type; anything that could go wrong generally did. The older I get in my life the more I suspect that the timing of these days directly correlates to how much pressure you currently under in life. It was seven pm on a Saturday evening, instead of getting ready to have crisis relationship talks with my fiancé, I was in work, waiting patiently on a temperamental printer to finish its task. A company director, under the direction of a potential investor, who it was rumoured to be interested in taking over the company, had been hassling middle management all week, getting his departments in line the rumoured takeover. The department was a mess, owing in no short measure to the aforementioned director being slack in his job. My section of the department was the only one pulling it's weight, as such I was seen as the man to get the job done. I hated my job in middle management; yes that is right, I work in middle management, yet another person lost in the bureaucratic mess of corporate nothingness. The soul destroying boredom that is my everyday work life was only held in balance by the relative saneness of my personal life. It wasn't always like this, at one point I had the world as my oyster, nothing seemed impossible, everything was within such easy grasp.
I had graduated from college and was highly expected by many of my lecturers to move on, either in the world of academia or to become a writer. I had the imagination, I had the skill, but unfortunately at the time I also had a girlfriend, one I loved dearly but one who's love depended on a certain level of affluence and lifestyle. Coming straight out of college and trying for a career in writing isn't for the faint of heart, it requires discipline, encouragement, ingenuity, imagination but most of all it requires a certain level of enforced humility; you have to be poor starting off, at least until you get your first book published. Enforced poverty didn't appeal of my now fiancé, so I sold my soul, and entered the world of business. That was five years ago.
A loud BEEEP came from the printer 'finally,' I thought as the machine spewed out page after page of reports, more mindless drivel.
'This should keep that fat bastard happy,' I mused to myself, taking significant pile of ejected paper, hurrying along to try and drop it off as quickly as I could.
KNOCK KNOCK, I banged, almost attempting to bury my knuckles into the heavyset door.
'Hello, Mr Simons, are you in here sir? I have those documents you wanted to mull over ,' I droned. I could hear the mock civility in my voice, it tasted like sour wine, bitter and repulsive, god I hated life right now.
'Ah Nathan, good you're here at last' he said, staring through me as if I was shadow. 'That'll be all young man, a little bit faster next time and everyone will be much happier; go out have a few beers and unwind, we've a busy few days early next week and I need you're "A" game.'
I wanted to strangle him, grab his corn flower coloured tie and twist it around his fat neck until he turned the same shade of purple as his sweat stained shirt. A growingly familiar voice rose through the storm of my rage, 'Calm, we are what we do, but we do what we think, and now is not the time for losing our temper.'
These violent impulses were new in my life and unfortunately getting worse as the weeks wore on. I used to be such a happy go lucky kinda guy, even found my job semi-rewarding, but it had all changed over the past few years, and was reinforced with searing precision about two months ago. Arriving home early to the sounds of loud music interrupted by occasional animalistic sounds, I walked in on my beautiful fiancé on all fours howling as she was getting nailed by some young college guy. Looking back I can't say that I blamed her, I'd become passive, weak, boring, lost in the mediocrity of my own existence. I even watched as she screamed and begged the young guy to blow his load deep inside her, I stood there unmoving, to ashamed to admit I had never made her scream as loudly or as wantonly. We are due to be married next week, and tonight we had a 'date' to try and rectify the situation.
I still remember the look of ecstasy etched on her grinning face as he fired deep into her causing her to buck and cum with explosive force; the look on her face when she saw me watching, she didn't even look upset, just a feigned pout. That night was when my violent impulses began to manifest themselves. I took a trip to a local bar, known for its easy pussy thinking in my twisted logic that fucking some random bar slut would compensate for the emotional upheaval I'd just endured. Fate it seems has a certain symmetry to it; who I met that night has haunted my dreams and my passions every hour since.
I was sat at the bar, loading up on Dutch courage, contemplating how low I would fall, hoping for anything, even a hooker to see me in my misery and offer me quick, cheap and easy release. In the corner of my eye I saw a slim black haired woman with an amazing figure walk slowly from where she was sitting on her own over to me.
'I don't usually do this, but I couldn't help but notice that you look a bit down,' announced a calming voice, "my name is Kiera."
'Hi, I'm Nathan,' I stammered into my beer, no confidence evident at all in my timid voice.
'Nathan?' she replied, 'what a lovely name, a powerful name... 'I'm attracted to power,' she continued, 'its how I noticed you actually, I could feel your sadness and made me notice something about you that otherwise I might have missed."
'You could feel my sadness?' I retorted, clearly not taking her seriously. 'Sorry, I don't buy into any of that hippy crap, just because a man is keeping to himself doesn't mean he's sad.'
'Ahhh' she said almost humming the sound, as if my retort had been a revelation had been one of great significance. 'Well Nathan, I'm not into any hippy crap either, but I do believe that the universe reserves a certain amount of fate for each of us, and tonight I think...' she slowed choosing her words carefully \Yes, tonight I think meeting you wasn't an accident.'
I'd had enough at this stage, just wanted to be left alone I turned to face my antagonist to give her a definitive leave me alone speech, only to find myself stunned. Nothing in the world could have prepared me for the sensation that followed. Our eyes met, and I was lost in the swirling beauty that regarded me. In an instant my evolving state of drunkenness shrunk into oblivion, in sober rapture I was a fish out of water, hooked.
She noticed the change in my body language and blushed as she quietly laughed to herself. She took me by the hand and led me dumbly out of the bar and down a dark alleyway. I couldn't speak, I wanted to, but couldn't. My mind was subverted by some unknown force, one which I couldn't have mustered the strength to fight, even if I wanted to. I quite happily let her lead me to whatever awaited.
'I know its not the most romantic of places,' I heard her say, not quite sure where the sound was coming from, 'but it serves our purpose for tonight.' She turned to me, looking deep into my eyes with her piercing gaze; hazel eyes which turned emerald green spiralling outwards fusing in a beautiful orange hue, cut through me and then darkness. I awoke in the alley on my own still in a daze with a pounding headache.
Since that night, my emotions have run riot, unchecked and out of control; rage, anger, sorrow, regret all experienced with a new sense of deepened intensity; always when they move to overpower me, a growingly familiar and soothing voice, erases the burdens and calms my mind.