by Mac Flynn
Ann leaned against the entrance to my lair-er, cubicle. "Don't say that. I might have found a solution to your date problem."
I raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"
She gave me a sheepish grin. "A guy?" she squeaked
I raised my head and glared at her. "The last thing I need is a guy," I argued.
"Oh, come on, Liz! A guy is just what you need, and this one's looking for somebody just like you!"
My eyebrow raised even higher. "Just like me?"
"Just like you," she insisted. She paused and tapped her chin. "At least, that was the impression I was getting from him. Someone a little shy but with a lot of secret spunk, and really pretty."
"And he's probably as ugly as a dog," I commented.
She shook her head. "No, he's actually really cute. Well, almost gorgeous. Frank and I-Frank's my boyfriend-we met him at a club the other night and we really hit it off. He didn't have a date and said he was looking for a long-term relationship. So what do you say?"
I slumped over my desk and clapped my hands over my ears. "I say no."
"Oh, come on, Liz. I know it's a little sudden, but we could have a double-date. Would that make you more comfortable?" she offered.
"No," I snapped.
Something caught Ann's eyes and she glanced to her right. A frown slipped onto her lips. "Lenin's coming. You just think about it and get back to me later. Frank and I were going to go out this weekend so we could double up the dinner date then if you want."
I sighed and waved her off. "I'll think about it, now hurry before he fires us both."
"Later, Liz."
"Later," I grumbled.
I sat straight and turned on my computer just as Leader Lenin arrived at my abode away from home. His eyes swept over the scene and my friend's retreating back. He tapped on his fashionable, expensive watch. "It's fifteen minutes past eight and you're just turning on your computer?" he scolded me.
"Yes, sir. Ann and I were discussing printers again," I told him.
He scowled and folded his arms across his chest. "I know you've been wasting company time talking. I can't prove it, but if I catch you two again I'm writing both of you up. Understand?"
"Loud and clear, sir," I replied.
"Good, now get to work." He marched off to harass my comrades.
"Why can't somebody embalm you and stick you in a box?" I muttered to myself as I got to work.
The hectic beginning to the day slowed down and for the first time I noticed something was amiss. Not with the day, though there was always more zombies on Monday than any other day, but with me. Well, not technically not with me, but with the guys around me.
It all started when Johnny came around with a stack of papers for me to work my way through. He knocked on the entrance as was his calling card.
"Good morning, Liz," he greeted me.
I spun around in my chair and smiled at him. "Morning, Johnny. What have you got for me today?" I asked him.
He picked up a stack of documents and folders from his cart and set it on the end of my desk. "Mr. Lennon said this was for you."
I frowned and pulled my chair closer to the stack. Piles and piles of work. It would take all day. "Lucky me," I muttered.
I froze when I felt a nose brush against the top of my head. I whipped my head back and Johnny started away fro me. His cheeks were red and his hands fidgeted against his waist. I tilted my head to one side and lifted an eyebrow. "Did you. . .did you just sniff my hair?" I asked him.
"Um, well, I-I just thought that-well, that you smelled different," he stuttered.
My heart skipped a beat on the sidewalk to panic. "Different how?"
He looked at the ground and shrugged. "I don't know, just-well, different. Kind of sweet smelling and-" He blushed and mumbled something.
"And what, Johnny?" I persisted.
"And-um, and I have to be getting along or Mr. Lennon is going to be mad at me," he commented. He slipped from my cubicle and rushed down the hall with his cart.
I frowned at the spot where he'd stood. Smelled different. That didn't sound good. I raised one arm and sniffed myself. I didn't smell anything different. Maybe it was just Johnny's imagination, or maybe it was because it was Monday. Mondays did strange things to people. I got to work on the pile of documents, if only to distract myself from that strange episode.
I didn't realize it was going to be one of many on that long, long day. Halfway through the morning I went to the water cooler for a cup. I poured myself a cup and swung around only to collide into the chest of a man who stood less than half a foot behind me. The water in the cup spilled over both of us and I stumbled back against the tank.
"What the hell?" I growled at the guy, a man named Ralph who I hadn't spoken more than three sentences with during our two years of working together.
Ralph caught my arms, though it was a little too late to save me from hitting the tank. He grinned at me. "I'm really sorry about that. I thought there was a-um, a bug in your hair and wanted to get it out for you."
I pulled on my hair with my free hand. The other still held the partially spilled cup. "Bug? What kind of bug?" I questioned him.
"A-um, a spider. A big one," he told me.
"You had to stand that close to me to see a big spider?" I growled.
He sheepishly grinned and shrugged. "I have bad eyes. All these computers and stuff. Anyway, let me help you to the bathroom and we can get you cleaned up."
There was a glisten in his eyes I didn't like. It reminded me too much of the vacant look in the cute stranger's eyes last night, and the lustful glance of David. "I think I'm fine," I told him as I slipped from his grasp.
"But you're covered in water," he pointed out.
"It'll dry, or I can get it off myself," I insisted.
"But it's all my fault. Let me make it up to you," he persisted.
I had a feeling his way of making up for the accident involved less clothes than we now wore and a whole lot of groaning. I inched backward and smiled at him. "I-um, I think I hear my printer calling. Gotta go, bye!"
I hurried through the aisles between the cubicles back to my own lair. For the first time that day I gave some consideration to my surroundings and found there were eyes on the walls. Well, over the walls and in the doorways of the cubicles. The men watched me like I was a supermodel sporting lingerie as I walked down the catwalk. Some had their mouths agape and others leered at me from around corners.
I reached the solitary safety of my cubicle and collapsed into my chair. Panicked thoughts rushed through my mind. My new succubus powers over men were uncontrollable, they were obviously getting stronger, and I had no good excuse to get out of work except the water stain on my shirt. Lenin would never take that as a reason to go home, not without marking me down. I'd just have to avoid eye and body contact with all males until I could escape and return to Magnus' hut for a new doll.
At the noon lunch our I decided to hunker down in my cubicle bunker and eat a granola bar I'd hidden in a desk drawer several months back. It tasted like desperation as I took a bite of its hard, dry surface. I swear sand dripped from the corners of my mouth as I mechanically chewed the hard oat gruel.
Ann slipped up to the entrance of my cubicle and cringed when she saw what I was eating. "Forget to pack a lunch?" she guessed.
"And money," I added.
"You mean you forgot your purse?"
I actually hadn't, but I couldn't risk going out to eat while so many men remained in the world and I was without my dolly. "Um, yeah. Don't tell anybody, okay?"
"Cross my heart, but you want me to take you out? My treat," she offered.
"Maybe another time," I told her. When I wasn't being stalked by half the human population.
"Did you think about what I said earlier?" she asked me.
I blinked at her. "What you said? Oh, right! The guy! Listen, Ann, I really appreciate you trying to set me up with someone, but I think I've got enough problems with guys to last a
lifetime."
Ann glanced over the tops of the cubicles and frowned. "That's another thing. Have you noticed that the guys have been acting really strange today? I mean, it's almost like they're all lovesick or mesmerized or something. I know it's Monday, but they're like zombies."
"Um, yeah, I guess I have. Really weird, isn't it?" I agreed.
"Yeah, and I swear they keep looking this way," she added.
"Maybe it's your clothes. Guys take longer to figure out fashion," I suggested.
Her lips pursed and she shook her head. "I don't think that's it, but I don't really know what's wrong. It's almost like they're all paying attention to your cubicle waiting for something." I choked on the last bite of my granola bar. My face turned blue and a coughing fit overtook me. "Liz! Liz, are you all right?" Ann yelled. She grabbed my arm, but I snatched the empty water cup from my desk and shoved it against her chest.
"Water," I gasped. The dry granola was partially lodged in my throat.
She grasped the cup and furiously nodded her head. "I'll be right back!" She rushed from my cubicle and I tried throat exercises to get the damn bit of food moving downward.
I didn't notice the crowd of men at the entrance to my cubicle until Johnny stepped forward as representative of the dozen guys. "Are you all right? Is there something we can do?" he offered on behalf of the enraptured men.
This had gone too far. I grabbed my purse, jumped to my feet and pushed through the crowd. Ann hurried down the hall with the full cup. I snatched the cup from her, downed the contents and was glad when the granola floated loose and down my throat. Ann gawked at all the men behind me, especially as they shuffled closer like zombie moths to a flame.
"What are you guys doing here?" she asked them.
"We-um, we heard Liz coughing and thought she might need help," Ralph spoke up.
"I'm fine," I hoarsely replied. I shoved the empty cup into Ann's fumbling hands and sprinted down the hall.
Lenin stepped out of his office on my left and blocked my path. His eyes widened when he noticed the crowd that followed me. "What's going on here? Why aren't you all at lunch?" he demanded to know.
"I have food poisoning and almost choked to death. I'm going home," I told him. I pushed past him before he could argue and rushed to the elevator. Ann was at the head of the all-male pack as I turned inside the elevator and the doors began to close. "See you tomorrow!" I called to them as the doors shut.
I hoped.
Chapter 2
I drove straight to the bottom of the hill where lay the cemetery and trudged up the path. Only my footprints from my previous visit lay in the snow and below me the neighborhoods were dark and empty. Everyone else was living their normal, human lives, and here I was walking up a snowy path to a cemetery to procure another voodoo doll to contain the succubus inside me.
I met Mo at the gate to the graveyard. He sat on one of the taller grave markers and his tail swished from side to side. "You've had a pretty rough day," he commented.
I stopped in front of him and ran a glove-covered hand through my hair. "Tell me about it."
"You woke up late, your friend tried to hitch you with a stranger, and the men in your office are infatuated with you," he summarized.
I frowned at him. "Thanks, reminding me of what happened really makes me feel better."
Mo jumped down from the statue and wrapped his lithe body around my legs. "Don't sweat it too much. Magnus is home with a good stock of dolls."
I sighed and picked up the pussy cat. He purred in my arms and my lips twitched up in a smile. "You really can see most everything in the city, can't you?"
"Purrty much," he replied.
I strode forward through the cemetery with the purring cat in my arms. "So you know what happened to my other doll, don't you?"
He rubbed his face against my chest. "Purrhaps."
I cringed. "Then you saw everything?"
Mo sighed and lay down in my arms. "Don't feel sorry for yourself. That's a wily incubus you've fallen in with, and a powerful one, to boot. He's got a strong thing for you, and a small doll like the one Magnus gave you just wasn't enough. He's got bigger ones."
My lonely footsteps crunched in the hard snow and I looked around at the tall monuments to death. "But what if those ones don't work, either? What if-"
"What if this, what if that. What ifs are nice and good when you're dealing with science, but you're not. You're dealing with fate, and fate's a funny thing. One moment you're on top of the world, and the next you're flipping hamburgers at a burger joint. Believe me, I've seen all the rises and falls. What you gotta do is just keep up trying because when you've stopped that you've given up," Mo told me.
"But I don't know what I'm doing," I argued. "It just feels like I'm flailing around trying to find anything that'll solve my problem even if it's stupid and doesn't work."
"You won't know until you try," he pointed out.
I snorted. "Much good it did me last night."
"Your problem is you've already given up. Madam Curie's fortune has already stuck in your mind and you think you can't escape the cards," he mused.
I stopped and glanced down at him. "But the tarot cards told my future, didn't they?"
He shrugged and hopped from my arms onto a nearby pedestal atop which stood an angel. "Maybe they did, or maybe they like to play some tricks on you. Ever hear of a self-fulfilling prophecy?"
"Isn't that where something comes true because somebody believed it would happen?" I guessed.
"Purcisely, and that's what's happening to you. You're just falling into the steps of those cards without really seeing between them," he told me.
"Seeing between them? They're just cards," I argued.
He wrapped himself around the legs of the angel and smiled at me with his eyes. "That's my point exactly. They're just cards. Now are you going to let a few cards decide what's going to happen to you, or are you going to do what you think needs to be done?"
I folded my arms across my chest and raised an eyebrow. "You know, you've got a point. A good one, considering you're a talking cat."
"City spirit," he corrected me.
"Well, you make a cuter cat than a spirit," I argued. I gave him a nice, long stroke and marched onward. "Now to get that old coot to uphold his guarantee."
"No."
"What do you mean no?" I growled.
"I mean no," Magnus repeated.
I stood in his horrible, smelly, dirty shack with the witch doctor himself standing in front of me. Beside me on the rickety table sat Mo cleaning himself and watching the 'discussion' between us. Magnus had a frown on his face, and I scowled at him.
"You said those dolls had a guarantee, so why won't you give me another?" I insisted.
"Because you didn't bring the original doll back. No doll, no guarantee," Magnus explained.
"That's just-that's just bull!" I argued.
"It's not bull, it's dolls, and I'm not giving you a new, more powerful one until you cough up a hundred bucks," he told me.
"But I don't have that money on me right now, and I need the doll as soon as possible," I persisted.
He turned his hide-covered shoulders away from me, folded his arms and shook his head. "No doing."
"What about a debit card? Do you take those?" I asked him.
Magnus glanced over his shoulder and there was a snarl on his face. "Plastic? A pitiful normal human invention to fluster folks into buying more than they can afford and paying the banks overdraft fees. No, it's hard cash or nothing."
"Come on, I'll do anything," I pleaded.
His eyes lit up and he spun around to show off a lecherous grin. "Anything?"
I cringed and backed up. "Anything but what you're thinking," I corrected myself.
His shoulders drooped and his frown reappeared. "Then no deal until you bring the cash or the doll."
"So you'll honor the guarantee if she has the doll, right?" Mo spoke up.
"Yep," Magnus agreed.
"That's fine, I've got this covered," Mo told me.
Mo flattened his front half on the table and lifted his rear into the air. His tail whipped to and fro, and my mouth dropped to the floor when a dark, swirling portal opened above him. Something small and dark flew out of the portal and landed with a squishy plop at Magnus' feet.
Mo slid into a seated position and resumed cleaning himself. "It's all yours, Magnus."
Magnus pinched the dripping wet object between two fingers and lifted it to eye level. That's when I recognized it as my doll. It was soaked with unmentionable items and held a foul odor. Magnus plugged his nose and glared at the soiled doll. "This isn't in good enough condition to reuse," he objected.
Mo stopped his cleaning and his yellow eyes slid over to Magnus. "Are you going back on your guarantee?"
Magnus lowered the doll and glared back at the cat. "What if I am? It's my guarantee. I can go back on it if I want."
Mo's tail slithered behind him and the end twitched. "You wouldn't want stories to come out about you, would you, Magnus?" he warned him.
Magnus' eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about, fiend?"
The cat lifted a front paw and proceeded to bathe it with his tongue. "Oh, just a few minor cheats here and there with the dolls. I know a lot of people would love to get those secrets from you for their own dolls."
The witch doctor's eyes bugged out and he scrambled over to the table so fast he tripped over his own feet. Magnus stumbled to the floor, but grabbed the shaky table and pulled himself up so his face and Mo were on even ground. "Y-you wouldn't dare!" Magnus challenged him.
Mo paused in his cleaning and a smooth grin slid onto his lips. "Oh, wouldn't I?"
"B-but that's against your rules!" Magnus protested.
"It's my rules. I can go back on them if I want," Mo retorted.
Magnus scowled at him and climbed to his feet. "Fine, you damn feline! I'll make this girl her doll on the guarantee!"
Mo lay his paw on the table and his tail stopped twitching. "That's all I wanted to hear."
