Quick Note: This first chapter is the introduction to the story, and should be considered as such. More erotic scenes will follow. Thanks :)
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Frankie and her mom were the most beautiful women I'd ever met. Not everyone might agree with that if they saw them, but that's just fine. Gothic women aren't for everyone. Leaves more for me.
Frankie is tall and thin, with long black hair and gray eyes. She's about 19, and appears as if to be a younger version of her mother, Ophelia. Both their faces a perfect long and rounded shape. Unlike her daughter, Ophelia liked wearing makeup. Lots of makeup. And she looked stunning. Her skin was white as snow, and her lips and eyeshadow as dark as her midnight hair. Her eyebrows were plucked thin, not only to complete her look, but because of how much she liked the feeling of pulling out each hair in the morning.
Their clothing choices never varied that much, and neither owned anything too extravagant. Frankie preferred her gray and black striped sweaters and black skirts, while Ophelia enjoyed flowing shirts or tight dresses (also black). Usually Ophelia would let her hair flow over her shoulders, but occasionally she'd tie it back tight into a ponytail. Her daughter on the other hand, always had her unkempt locks falling straight down wherever they found themselves. Both were still equally gorgeous to me.
Their apartment building, which also happened to be my place of residence, was in keeping with their attire. It had once been a luxury hotel, and the rooms were just barely fit to call a permanent home. After years of abandonment, the property was sold to a man named Finch. Augustus Finch. He soon became the landlord of what was now "Finch Luxury Apartments". I'm assuming the "luxury" part of the name came from the original condition of the hotel; to which it had not hardly been restored. The walls and floorboards were faded and cracked. Everything was monochrome. The wallpaper in the rooms were gone; the white paint in the halls had somehow faded further. You're more likely to see a rat in the hallway than another human being. The only people that live here are the ones that have nowhere else to go. Except for Frankie and Ophelia. They love it.
I'd become fairly close with them in the few months they'd been living here, and I've learned two things about why they moved in. Ophelia is recently widowed, and Frankie was being bullied at here school. Both events prompted them to leave their hometown and come to California, "where dreams are made". And by all appearances, their dream had come true. They were perfectly happy. Of course not in the way most people would show it. More like, "Addams Family" happy. Sulking and lurking was their way of enjoying themselves. Sometimes I'd join in too. Me and Frankie's favorite game was what she called "Spooky Hooky", which is where we would basically scare the crap out of people walking by outside instead of doing our chores for Ophelia, by jumping out of the bushes and chasing them down the street.
The hotel was built on a busy corner in the downtown area of the city. People hated the sight of it. The outside barely looked better than the inside, like a very fancy haunted house. Snotty citizens were constantly trying to make a case for why it should be torn down, but the city wouldn't do it with people living inside. Though, they always pestered Mr. Finch about making renovations. According to Finch, we were the real reason they wanted the building gone. Part of us believed him, but that only made it more fun.
People took to calling Frankie and I the "Black Twins", on account of our similarly dark appearances. We both had long dark hair, pale complexions, wore dark clothes, and were about the same age. I didn't always prefer the darker style, but it kind of comes with the room. It grows on you.
You get used to the conditions of Finch Luxury Apartments. It's soothing really, in a strange way. After enough time, you're right at home. Most people that live here are still miserable, but that has more to do with their own sorry lives. Me, Frankie and Ophelia on the other hand were having a wonderful time. Needless to say, we were not very liked.
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One morning, while cleaning dishes for Ophelia, she asked me something rather strange. I was focused on the radio, when she came into the kitchen in a tight black dress with transparent sleeves. Her chest was exposed. I loved seeing her in something that accentuated her curves, and she could tell. Her hair was straight and fell over her shoulders. It had a beautiful lack of sheen to it.
"Eddy darling, may I ask you something a little personal?"
"Of course Ms. Crowley." I answered. She had no issue with me calling her by her first name, but I only ever felt comfortable doing that in my head. She smiled endearingly at me as she came closer, her heels clacking on the dirty floorboards.
