The Doyennes' Worldly Convergence

Chapter 6 - Morning Fire

Harlee

As the days go by, the world seems to get a little bit uglier, a little more dark, a little more crazy. People are progressively increasing their hatred and judgment of one another, and for the dumbest and most pathetic reasons possible. All it seems to take is for someone to look or act just a little different, to dare to cross the line of social expectations, and someone else gives them a disapproving glance. Next thing you know, there's a fight.

And the media isn't helping at all. Oh, no, they're making things look so much worse than what they really are, which adds fuel to the fire of negativity among everyone.

Cordelia had a hard time trying to find another job working for a TV station, so she went a different route and applied to one of the local newspapers that was looking for a new journalist. Even though the longevity of her new job is questionable, she seems to enjoy doing the research. Especially anything regarding the supernatural, as she's still determined to disprove their existence despite what happened.

Meanwhile, I've been throwing myself into my own new job. Working with the dead is so much more pleasant than working with the living. They complain a hell of a lot less! By now I was sick of people in general. The digression of society was disgusting. We're basically going backwards in time, to a day when humans hated everything and everyone that didn't fit into their own personal ideal way of thinking, feeling, looking, acting, believing ..... what happened to accepting each other as long as no harm was done? To not judging someone for something that wasn't of any concern to anyone else? Now, the different things that made us all unique were the same things that were tearing us apart, all because of fear and being overly sensitive of things we didn't agree with or understand.

I walked up the sidewalk to the front of the Blavelt Funeral Home to see a group of about 20 people demanding that Sally and Andrew show themselves and accusing them of the dumbest sh.it I have ever heard.

"Come on, guys! Get the f***k out of here!" I yelled as I pushed through the crowd, making my way to the front door. I really wanted to simply use the back door, but thanks to it being fenced in and the gate locked from the inside, I was out of luck.

"Do you know that you work for devil worshipers?! They house zombies in there!" one of the women yelled out, causing me to roll my eyes.

"Yes, you're 100% correct! I am paid to put makeup on zombies! How the hell did you find out?!" I tightened the grip on my purse and travel mug full of coffee as I continued to push my way through the group of assholes.

Yeah, I said it. They're fu.cking assholes. They're not protesters, and they're not rioters. They're just a group of dumbasses who insist that, because we're a funeral home, we must be housing the walking dead.

Andrew Blavelt opened the front door for me just as I reached it, and as soon as I slipped in I turned around and pressed my weight against it as he locked the deadbolt.

"Harlee, I'm so sorry that this is how your new job has started out. I honestly don't know what's gotten into everyone. In all my years on this earth, I have never seen anything like this," Andrew said as he closed his eyes and slowly shook his head, his gray hair moving from the movement.

Andrew was a taller, average-built man in his late 60s. He had a short gray beard that matched his hair and wore glasses, adding to his slightly sophisticated look. His wife, Sally, was also average-sized, had short gray, and took a lot of pride in her appearance. They were probably the two nicest people that I have ever met, but I guess you have to be nice in this line of work.

"I'll tell you what's gotten into them, Mr B. Too much TV and social media combined with fear. It's turning them all crazy! I swear I thought they were going to knock my coffee out of my hand, then heads would really start to roll ...."

"I don't know what to do. It's so disrespectful when we have someone's loved one to take care of and the family comes to make arrangements."

I let out a defeated sigh. "There's not really anything that we can do. I gave Lorne a call about it, but unfortunately they aren't breaking the law. The sidewalk is public property and if they're not damaging any of your property or causing any physical harm to anyone, they're technically not doing anything wrong. But if it comes down to that, if you and Mrs Blavelt feel threatened or anything, you let me know, and I'll take care of it," I smiled and winked at Mr B as I elbowed his arm, trying to get a smile in return.

Andrew forced a smile and nodded his head slightly, understanding that I was trying to make light of the situation. "That's what I'm afraid of. Something happening, and then you giving us more clients than we can keep up with."

"Speaking of clients, can you tell me a little about Miss Harris?" I quickly took the opportunity to change the subject as we started making our way through the old house which was turned into a funeral home.

"Ah, yes. So tragic. Michelle was only 18 years old and had just had her graduation not long ago. She was found deceased from an apparent overdose in one the rooms at the Harris-Inn ...."

"Wait, are they related?"

Mr B quietly nodded his head.

"Oh, my. That's all so tragic. She had her entire life ahead of her ...."

"Yes, well, I guess money doesn't always buy happiness. Her family is extremely torn up and regretful as they feel like they failed her by missing the signs as to how unhappy she was. If only she had talked to them instead ......"

"Don't fret, I'll cover up everything that's needed."

I smiled softly as I patted Mr B's shoulder and made my way down the hall. As I passed Mrs B's office we exchanged our typical morning greetings of a simple smile and wave.

The Blavelt Funeral Home and Crematory was a beautiful vintage building in the middle of the city, conveniently located near the hospital. The Blavelts made sure not to change the look and feel of the building over the years, making you feel like you had stepped back in time as soon as you walked through the front door. It was very peaceful and relaxing, completely different from working for the station. Plus, Sally and Andrew were the complete opposite of Allen and his parents.

The large room where the mortuary refrigeration system was kept was all the way in the back. It had large glass windows to let in as much natural light as possible, which is why the back of the building was fenced off with a security privacy fence. I walked through the double doors, turned on the bright lights, and set my purse and coffee down on the wheeled cart where I kept my makeup. Thankfully, I was able to use most of it here after I quit the station, because that crap isn't cheap. I picked up Michelle's file that contained her information and pictures, went to her cooler, and pulled out the drawer that held her lifeless body.

"Well, Miss Harris, let's see how you preferred to look and what you left me to work with, shall we?" I asked as I looked down at her blank face.

There's no doubt that she was a beautiful girl before addiction took over her life and claimed her soul. Now she was skin and bones, her face sunken in and bruises up and down her arms along with puncture marks from the needles. Her natural black hair was bleached blonde and probably about shoulder-length, but too matted and damaged to tell.

I swallowed the emotions that I felt for the stranger, my heart going out to her, wondering how much emotional neglect she had to have endured to force her to turn to something so dark that it stole her life.

I gently pushed her hair behind her ear, making sure not to accidentally pull it. "I'm sorry that no one was there for you in life, I hope that you've finally found your peace." I held my hand to the side of her cold face, knowing that there was no way I could take away the pain that she dealt with in life, but wishing that ....

"But you can be there for me in death ..." Michelle's lips moved as the words left her mouth, her brown eyes opening to stare up at me.

Before I could turn around, Michelle's left hand grabbed hold of my right one, holding it tightly against her face as her right hand quickly found its way to my neck, squeezing just enough to make it difficult to swallow my saliva. My left hand automatically tried to remove her hand from my neck, but it was pointless. Fu.cking skinny bi.tch was strong ....

"You're ...." I barely managed to choke out.

Michelle sat up, keeping her hands on me, letting the blanket fall off of her naked body and revealing that everything the blanket had been hiding to be a completely normal, fair skin tone. Makeup, she had makeup on her face and upper chest to make herself look dead. I can't believe I couldn't tell .....

"Yeah, I'm not dead. Well, not in your sense of the word. And look at you. Your beautiful blood flowing ...." Michelle leaned her cheek against the part of my chest that my shirt didn't cover and inhaled deeply. "Your blood smells like vanilla and honey ...."

A shiver ran down my spine as Michelle proceeded to lick my chest. I was really regretting having large breasts and using so much sweet creamer in my coffee .... my purse, I needed to get to my purse .....

"Why aren't you screaming for help?" she whispered as she lightly grazed my skin with her teeth.

"There's not really a point, is there?" I managed to choke out.

Michelle finally pulled her face away from my chest and looked me in the eyes. "Well, it'd make me feel tingly all over if you did," she answered with a sinister smile.

I tried to back up, testing her strength, but Michelle simply yanked me back to her and laid her head against my chest again. "I always envied breasts like yours, now I have my own set ...."

"Thanks, but they're not for sale ...."

Michelle chuckled as she rubbed a finger under my ear while still holding my neck. "But that's where you're wrong! My parents bought you for me! Most girls are superficial, you know, Corvette or Porsche .... but I got you. Aren't you going to ask me how? Or why?"

I didn't even move as I stared into her eyes, pretty much knowing where this story was going to go.

Michelle scoffed at my silence. "Well. I was a drug addict, yeah. But the drugs obviously weren't what did this to me. I highly recommend not having a dealer that's a vampire. I guess we all learn the hard way, am I right? Well, 20 years ago the fu.cker drained me, then changed me the night of my high school graduation. At first, I was mad, but then I realized that I would now live forever. I haven't aged a single day. Sally and Andrew have known my parents for years and money talks, you know. They get helpers in and my parents would buy them for me. Some I keep alive a little longer than others. I have a sweet tooth, and ....."

"Bored now," I said, interrupting her.

Michelle furrowed her brows and squinted her eyes in irritation. "Excuse me?"

"I've really had it with spoiled brats that live off of mommy and daddy, riding their coattails ...."

"BI.TCH!" Michelle screamed as she literally threw me backwards.

I crashed into my makeup cart before colliding with the double doors, and I realized that Sally or Andrew must have locked them shortly after I entered the room. They had to have anticipated that I wouldn't go down without a fight.

As I laid in my now spilled coffee and makeup, I couldn't help but wonder if that was really the most intelligent idea that I could have come up with .....

"Now THAT was rude!" Michelle yelled as she stomped towards me, grabbed my hair, and lifted me off of the floor to my feet.

I smiled to try to hide the physical pain. If I survive this, I'm going to have a hell of a bruise on my back. "I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I give a sh.it ...."

Swinging her hand back, Michelle let loose, slapping the side of my face so hard that the sound echoed around us. "We could have had a good thing going, you and I. But you just had to go and be bi.tch, didn't you?"

I swallowed down the pain, wanting to sound like she didn't have an effect on me, that she was less than nothing. "I've been called better by worse and worse by better ...."

Lifting her hand back up, I mentally prepared for another slap, but instead she sensually ran the back of her hand down my sensitive cheek. "Maybe I'll just completely drain your sweet honey ...." she hissed.

Michelle and I stared into each other's eyes for what felt like forever, until a large shattering sound from across the room got both of our attention.

We looked to see what had happened, both of us startled and surprised by the intruder who broke through one of the windows ..... the man who attacked Allen in the alley. Great, now I'm royally screwed.

Michelle turned back to look at me, opening her mouth to talk, but no words came out, as it was too late for that. Her eyes widened as I shoved the juniper stake deeply into the center of her chest, and watched as pain consumed her face before her body turned to a pile of dust and fell to the floor.

"We need to get you out of here ...." the man I knew to be a vampire demanded, and at that moment I knew that Lorne was right, that this stranger wasn't one of the bad guys.

"Bless your heart, I don't need a man to save me, honey ...." I informed him.

With the stake still in my hand, I picked up the lighter I used to warm makeup and a can of hairspray, and quickly lit the curtains on fire.

"So I see," his deep voice replied before he wrapped an arm behind me, forcing me through the broken window as my new job literally went up in flames.