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There are a multitude of different names for anger.
Fury, rage, frustration, wrath. Regardless of how it’s spelled, it all means the same thing.
“No, these are the wrong size, too. I said, I want ones that fit!”
It was going to be a long, long night.
Natalie ground her teeth together, biting back her retort. She wordlessly took the bowling shoes back from the portly woman before her, offering a fifth pair for her to try on. With every new pair, the woman would swear that her feet really couldn’t be that big; and, with each pair, Natalie thought of a new method of torture that hadn’t been done with bowling shoes ever before in history.
The worn uniform Natalie wore only served to remind her of the blatant injustice her father was putting her through. She really didn’t need the pitiful amount money from the job for necessities; her corporation-owning father had seen to it that all of her basic needs were met. However, at nineteen years of age and still living at her (rather spacious) home with her father, he’d grown restless of late.
He’d even begun to cut her off, in an attempt to teach her ‘financial responsibility’. She slammed the bowling shoes against the rack after brushing a lock of inky hair from her eyes, viciously jamming in pair after pair. It just wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he’d threatened to outright disown her if she lost another job, but it wasn’t her fault. It was everyone else’s fault for being annoying.
Natalie glowered at the shoes, setting about her task of individually cleaning each one. A kind clap on her shoulder made her jump, and her brows furrowed even further as her coworker beamed down at her.
“Looking a little grumpy tonight, Kitty!” Patricia smiled politely at her, offering one of the cleaning towels to her ‘friend’, and began to set about helping her with her work. Of all the people Natalie worked with, the dark skinned short girl was the one she despised the least. Her constant politeness and random acts of kindness and generosity, on the other hand, made her absolutely despicable. Natalie’s scowl deepened as she checked the clock once again, eager to leave.
“What have I told you about calling me that?” she spat, shining shoe after shoe in a hurry. Patricia, however, handled each one with a tender hand and a patience unexpected of one even younger than Natalie.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized sincerely. “Force of habit, Nat.”
“Don’t call me that, either,” she glowered, although she felt her anger slowly slipping away. Probably just one of the stupid side effects of being around the quiet girl for too long. Of course, ‘Nat’ was far preferable to ‘Kitty’. The nickname her new boss had so pleasantly chosen, because he couldn’t keep calling her ‘little pussy’.
Just because one little spider had crawled onto her arm…
Patricia was a little surprised Natalie’s face didn’t curl inside out, so strong was her frown.
Yet another group far-too happy looking family members rang the bell on the counter, expectantly waiting service. Swearing viciously under her breath as the anger boiled within once again, Natalie dropped the shoes and did her best to assist them without expending any actual effort.
Besides, she’d worked enough already.
Not at the pitiful little bowling alley on the edges of town, that is – no, she’d pooled her resources and invested wisely, working for months on end to quietly make her very own little personal secret chamber. Hidden in a rather cliché way behind the bookshelf in her room stood a fair-sized, soundproof room that had taken too much money and work to give up on. But Natalie had done it, finally; toiling endlessly in the dead of the night, manipulating every opportunity she was presented with to find more time to complete her ‘pleasure chamber’.
Well. Pleasurable for her, anyway.
The room itself contained several choice items that Natalie had handpicked over the course of months, many specifically crafted tools designed for pleasure and all sorts of debauchery.
And other, more wicked looking tools, which were clearly never designed for anyone’s pleasure, of any sort.
Now, all that was left was to meet with her contact. Saturday, at midnight.
And of course, one of her coworkers had to have chosen this day in particular to quit. She honestly tried to play sick, but her father had insisted that she ‘prove to be responsible’ before he left for yet another of his business trips. The thoughts of the night soured in her mind, which mirrored her facial expressions.
Which left some very confused bowlers wondering how asking about pizza could have upset her so.
Just as Natalie had gently pushed the violent thoughts of mutilation from her mind as the unwary bowlers strapped on sets of shoes, she was reminded of another torment in her personal hell.
“Kitty!”
Natalie’s fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white, and she did her best to remain expressionless as she faced her slightly obese balding boss.
“Sssssir?” she asked slowly, trying to remember her deep breathing exercises.
Dave, the ambiguously creepy looking manager of the bowling alley, handed her an overused looking plunger.
“Men’s room. Now.”
“What?” Natalie shrieked in denial, and one of her eyes began twitching uncontrollably. The menial tasks she was forced to labor through!
“It’s clogged.” Dave said simply, giving her a look that was generally reserved for dogs that had rolled in something smelly. A faint and wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips, and it only took Natalie a moment to realize who the culprit was.
It was going to be a long, long night.
Seriously contemplating jamming the plunger’s handle down his throat, Natalie yanked it away from him and stomped off toward the grimy restroom, ignorant of the pitying look Patricia was giving her back. She couldn’t afford to blow everything now; not when she was so close. She just had to stick with it for a little longer, and then all of her plans would come to fruition.
That’s what she’d been telling herself for months, except now, it would all change.
Her phone quietly buzzed, and her heart rose in elation as she finally, finally received word back from her ‘contact’.
Amazing how two little words could improve a person’s attitude so much.
It’s time.
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If Dave expected Natalie to look resentful or infuriated as she left the restroom smelling rather unpleasant, he was sorely mistaken. As a matter of fact, even Patricia was thoroughly surprised when Natalie whistled cheerfully for a few minutes afterwards.
At least, until Dave began piling more pointless tasks on top of Natalie’s list of things to do, in order to see just how far he could push her.
Dave wasn’t the brightest guy.
It didn’t take long for Natalie’s foul mood to return, and the violent way she was scrubbing at the bowling balls was testament to that.
“Do this, Kitty,” she growled quietly, fantasizing about just where they could all shove those bowling pin. “Do that, Kitty. No – fucking – respect!” Natalie slammed the ball against the floor with each punctuation, earning a couple of odd glances from an elderly couple.
It felt like an eternity before she was finished. A small feeling of satisfaction arose in her chest as she noted the time, eager to get off the clock and meet her contact. She had big plans for tonight; besides, it was about time she had someone to take her anger and pent up sexual frustration out on.
Just before she left, though, Dave tapped her on the shoulder. She grimaced at the onion-smelling man’s touch, slapping his hand away. Patricia silently closed up the bowling alley by herself again, clocking out last.
“What do you want now?” Natalie glowered at him impatiently, tapping her foot against the floor.
“Oh, you know,” Dave breathed in what was apparently supposed to be a seductive manner has he blocked her exit with one arm, leaning in and cocking an eyebrow. “I was just wondering if you had anything planned-“
“I swear to god, Dave, I will ram my foot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting toenails for a week.”
Flinching, the balding man actually pulled back a bit. Her scowl deepened as she pushed rudely past him, out into the cool night air. She’d have time to deal with her creepy boss later; right now, she needed to hurry to meet with her contact.
“H-hang on!” Dave belted as he stepped outside after her, a hint of desperation in his voice as he grasped her shoulder. “I still have something to say-!”
Natalie’s head felt like it was going to explode, so great was her outrage. The pressure and tension in her temples rose to ridiculous heights, and she whirled on the spot at the man that was preventing her from easing her rising sense of urgency.
If it hadn’t been for Patricia’s intervention, Dave very well might not have survived the night.
“Come on, you two,” the short girl quietly tried to defuse the situation. “It’s late. And I don’t know about you, but I’ve got to be at another job in the morning, so can we save the drama for later, please?”
A tiny sliver of gratitude toward the tanned girl shined through in Natalie for a moment, before it, too, was crushed by the tide of righteous fury. She fought to keep herself in check, simply nodding to the girl before pelting to her car.
Natalie didn’t particularly care for the perturbing look that Dave was giving the short girl, but she couldn’t really have cared less at that point. She was going to be late if she didn’t hurry.
The screech of the car tires as she peeled away signaled her departure.
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The low hum of her engine rumbled as Natalie strummed her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, thinking heavily.
What kind of freak meets in a graveyard?
At midnight?
There was the possibility that this could all be a trap, and Natalie’s extracurricular activities could have merely resulted in playing directly into the hands of a potential kidnapper. Or worse.
That was what the gun in the glove box was for.
She internally rolled her eyes as she slid the cold piece of metal into her jacket pocket, eyes narrowing dangerously as a small, teal colored car pulled into the graveyard from the road. Eagerly clambering from her vehicle, but deliberately slowing herself so as not to appear desperate, Natalie fingered the gun, just in case.
Her ‘contact’ in question was male, from the raspy tone of his voice, which slithered out from behind a cheap vaccination mask. It was evident that he was having difficulty seeing properly from behind his mirrored sunglasses, and the bland looking blue ball cap atop his head covered his hair. The thin black suit he wore as he emerged from the car rippled slightly, and his posture reminisced of a no-nonsense attitude.
“There, in the trunk,” he thumbed toward the back end without pausing to make introductions. “Payment?” She was secretly glad that she wasn’t the only one who was impatient; that, and his voice sounded a little nervous.
Natalie withdrew a small bundle of papers, wordlessly handing them over to the man. Her heart beat so loudly in her chest that she felt as if it were going to puncture her throat. What she was doing was so evidently illegal, but that only made the thrill grow. She was so close…!
“Set, completed, and ready to be wired.” Natalie said, suddenly aware that her throat had become quite parched. “So long as you’ve got the delivery.”
The man nodded, pulling the car keys from his pocket and dropping them into her palm. “She’s all yours.”
She?
Natalie eyed the man warily, making sure that he kept a safe distance while she opened the trunk. He seemed to be preoccupied with scanning and rescanning the paperwork, and tapping his foot against the gravel hurriedly.
Fingers shaking slightly as the keys penetrated the lock of the trunk, the friendly ding! of the vehicle’s alert made her jump slightly.
Natalie had known that her request of someone who wouldn’t be missed had been a little vague, but this really wasn’t what she had been expecting.
She blinked, and rubbed her eyes. Then again.
A slow, sick, twisted smile slowly carved its way onto her face as she visualized precisely how this night was going to end. The wide, sky blue flickering eyes of the terrified, bound and gagged unicorn staring back at her belied a fear that was deserving of the horrors in store for her. Rarity’s eyes urgently tried to adjust to the sudden fluorescent lights pouring in on her, and her chest rose and fell unsteadily as she panicked once again.
It was going to be a long, long night.
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