The Temp

The Temp

         The one bedroom apartment was dark. The only exception was a weak, green nightlight in the kitchen. Mary sat at the table with the telephone in hand as she had done so many nights that week.
         “Stop Calling Me!”
         Mary slammed the telephone receiver into its cradle. The clock showed it was 3:00 a.m. It was the same thing every night. His breathy telephone calls would wake her. At first, she tried to ignore him in hope that the lack of a response would make him stop. Tonight she tried a more assertive approach. She sat at the table hoping it would work. Only tomorrow night would tell her if it did.
         Walking around her apartment, she checked the door and all the windows. I wish Dan were here, she thought. Their break-up was something she now regretted. He would have simply told the guy off and that would have ended it. Mary walked into her bedroom and grabbed her cat, Beetlebug, off the floor and went back to bed. He took his usual station on the pillow beside her head. Soon, Mary was asleep.
         Beating the alarm by half an hour, Mary was already up and dressed for work by the time it clattered. She hated Mondays, like most of the workers at Bank Blue. Yet this one was to be one of the worst in her career. She was being given a new contract employee to train in her section of the office.
         Another damned temp, she thought, just what I need to start off my week. Hell, I am already overloaded with work. Now, I have to spend an entire day babysitting a temp. They are all dumber than dog meat and take all day to train to do the simplest tasks. The last one took me a week to train. They thanked me by their quitting after getting their first paycheck. 
         “Hey there, Beetlebug, here is your breakfast. Be a good kitty.”
         The old blue Toyota was the only thing she still possessed that was Dan’s. He told her to keep it because it contained too many memories of the times they shared. As Mary drove to work, she remembered their first date.
         It was in January. The weather was frigid. The old car broke down out on County Road 224. To top it off, the light snow that was forecast became about an inch per hour. They waited for help to pass by, but the cold began to get to them. Nobody passed for over two hours. They decided to make love in the back seat to keep warm. It wasn’t until an elderly couple stopped to help them that they cooled off. Mary laughed at the memory of their trying to get dressed as they heard the scrape of a shovel and the ice scraper.
         “It’s 8:45 here in the county seat. If you need to be at work by 9, you’d better hurry up,” quipped the radio announcer.
         Oh, shit, Mary thought, I can’t be late again. She hit the accelerator and sped to work.
         Milos lived alone in his apartment in downtown Columbia City. It was all he could afford after being dishonorably discharged from the service. He knew that with his service record, no woman would ever willingly come into his life. He tried to date, but when the subject of his job prospects came up, the date usually ended quickly. Milos learned the hard way that a dishonorable discharge makes it hell on a person to find work. It sucked enough being alone and jobless, but having to be forced to live in the crappy apartment in the equally shoddy neighborhood made matters much worse.
         It was not his fault that he was kicked out of the service. It was those damned voices. They told him to do bad things. They drove him to punch his commanding officer for ordering him to stand guard duty when he wanted to sleep. They led him to go too far in the boxing ring and kill his buddy. It wasn’t his fault, but theirs that caused him to be discharged from the Navy S.E.A.L.S., not his abilities. They screwed him up.
         Those same voices also made him have those fantasies that kept him awake at nights. That is why he would amuse himself by thinking up telephone numbers and dialing them to see who would answer. If it was a female’s voice, then the fun would begin. He would simply breathe and listen for their response. He recently found a number that he liked and kept dialing it. He liked her voice. She sounded young. He dialed the number for the past week and sat there trying to picture what she looked like and what she wasn’t wearing. He thought about ways to woo her over. The last time he called, she told him off. It excited him. Her rage excited something deep within him.
         That early Monday morning, however, he did not have time to waste on the fantasy of her. The temporary agency had found a job for him. Temp work was menial labor at best, but it paid the bills. He had somehow made it past the background checks. He left his apartment and walked past the bums and hookers toward the bus stop. He had never worked a temp job at a bank before and hoped it would be better than the other jobs.




         Lateness was not tolerated by Bank Blue, a fact Mary knew all too well. She would not afford another mark in her file for being late. She raced into the parking lit and ran the four flights of stairs rather than wait on the elevator. Mr. Steeple was standing at his office door tapping his watch when she clocked in at exactly 9:00 a.m. On time. Unfortunately, the temp was already waiting for her at her office door.
         “Hi. I’m Milos,” he said.
         “Hi. Just a minute, please. I just got here and have to settle in and get logged onto my system. Please stay out here and wait for me. Once I am done, I will show you your desk and what you need to do.”
         He recognized her voice instantly. It was her—his dream number. He was so happy that she did not recognize his voice. Just as he pictured her. Young. Innocent looking. He gazed at her and began to memorize her features. No ring. Good sign for him. She had shoulder length auburn hair that was in a hairdo that framed her face nicely. Her breasts appeared to be a bit smallish, but full and firm as they stood high. She appeared to have a little “baby fat,” but not so much as to make her fat. This knowledge would come in handy when he called her again. His fantasy was interrupted by Mary’s voice.
         “Milos. That is your name, correct?”
         “Yes.”
         “Well, Milos let me put this to you bluntly. I do not have the time to waste in training you or babysitting you. Learn what I have to teach you the first time and we’ll get along just fine. By the way, my name is Mary.”
         Mary spent half of the morning training him and the rest of the day as far away from him as possible. As she went about her normal work, she cursed all temps. The very idea of a multimillion dollar company trying to save money by hiring those losers really ticked her off. Yet, there was something different about this one. Mary felt as if she knew him from somewhere, but couldn’t quite place it. She had never bothered herself with other people’s personal lives and certainly was not going to start with the life of a temp. As much as she hated them, she also knew that if she were to stay ay Bank Blue, then her work life would always bring temps into it. Mary walked to her desk to pick up her things and leave for the day. His desk was nearby. Summoning up all the pleasantness within her, she decided to be congenial.
         “Do you understand all of this yet?” she asked.
         “Yes, I think I’ll do just fine.” Milos replied.
         “Okay. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow. Just come back to this desk and begin where you leave off today. If you need me, come over to my office. Got it? Other than that, then don’t come over.”
         “Okay,” Milos replied. If you need me, he thought. Just wait ‘til tonight. I’ll show you what I need from you.




         Mary hazily looked around her room. The clock glared 1:00 a.m. back at her and the telephone was ringing loudly in the kitchen. Getting up from bed, she stumbled to the kitchen. I’ll fix that pervert tonight, she thought. Once and for all, I’ll fix him.
         “All right you scum bucket!” she yelled into the receiver.
         “Mary, is that you Mary?” came the voice.
         He knew her name. The shock of hearing her name was more than she could handle. Her fear turned into rage.
         “Who the Hell is this?”
         “I won’t tell you who I am, at least not now. But I do have something to tell you.”
         “Listen here, you nut case, get off my phone! I’ll—“
         “Now Mary, don’t be so negative. I’ve been thinking about you.” the voice hissed. “I’ll bet you’re naked now like I am. I’ll bet that beautiful auburn hair is hanging just above those perky breasts of yours. Am I right?”
         “I have caller I.D.” she said.
         “No, I don’t think so Mary. You would have stopped me before now if you did. But I think you’re as charged as I am. Am I right, Mary? Are you hot for me?”
         Slam! The receiver smashed into its cradle. Mary was shaking wildly now. How did he know her name? How did he learn what she looked like? She grabbed Beetlebug and began to stroke him to calm herself. The phone rang again.
         “Listen you pervert!” she screamed.
         “Oh good. You’re a screamer. I bet you scream real loud when you’re excited. I want to make you scream for me. I like it that way. Oh, please scream for me.”
         His voice was deliberate and calm, like the air of a hunter stalking its prey and moving in for the kill. He heard the telephone slick again. He loved it. He loved it so much he had to clean himself up before going to bed. He would see her again in the morning. Finally, to be able to see more of a victim as he pursued them. It excited him once again. Never did he dream of this moment. He tried to stop the voices long ago. He even tried to stop them when they beg him to call each night, but they could not be calmed. Long ago, he heard them. Long ago, he succumbed to them and began.
         The first was so pretty. He met her via the personal ads in the newspaper. It started benignly enough. First, he called. Then, he stopped calling for a while. Then he called her again. This time, he spoke to her and they met at a nearby park. He did not let her know it was he who had called before and simply breathed into the receiver. At the park, she spoke to him so kindly, far kinder than any woman had ever spoke to him in his life. A couple of dates later and she told him that he was not the man she was looking for. She was so pretty. It was a shame when they found her pretty, decapitated body floating in a river about forty miles from her home. No clues were ever found. No one to take responsibility. But Milos knew who was to blame. It was the voices. He could have never hurt her. The voices did it. Milos disappeared. Since he had no living family or friends, his disappearance caused no great suspicion. He drifted from town to town for sometime afterwards. When the voices stopped, he stopped.




         The office was unusually busy for a Tuesday. Mary clocked in and went to check on Milos. He was at his desk and busily working away on a stack of credit card orders.
         “Hard at work already?” she asked.
         “Yes.”
         “Good. It is unusual for me to find a temp who is a fast learner and self-starter. I usually have to spend days training your type. Good, go back to work.”
         Mary walked to her office, sat at her desk and began to go through her mail. Most of it was the typical professional development seminar crap that gets sent to anyone with a pulse. She looked up to see a card taped to her computer screen. The envelope was blue with nothing written on the outside. Tearing it open, she found a card. On the face of the card was an old, poorly done watercolor bouquet of flowers in a vase. In it was a typed note that read:
                   Hi there Mary. It’s me. I found where you work. Goody for me.
                   You have such a lovely voice. I do so much enjoy talking to you
                   every night.
                                       
                                       Your telephone friend.

         Mary felt an icy walking of spider’s feet up her spine. He now knew where she worked. Worse yet, he somehow got past the security guards and to her desk. She tossed the card into the wastebasket and tried to compose herself. Her hands were shaking as she tried to read the latest memo from management to rid herself of the coldness. Everyone was now officially a suspect. Every man with whom she worked was now a potential threat. She decided then and there to analyze every glance, every gesture of everyone she met or spoke with. Throughout the day, she listened carefully to everyone’s voice. When the day ended, Mary had become weary of this torture. She packed up and began to leave.
         “See you tomorrow,” said Milos as she passed him.
         “Yeah. Keep up the good work.”
         Don’t worry, I will, he thought. You help me to keep it up.
         The alarm clock sounded at precisely 0300 hours. Milos awoke and cleared his throat. He liked the sound of his unawakened, raspy voice for his calls. He dialed her number. Time for his evening fix. After six rings, her new machine picked up. He was going to be taped. The very thought of it excited him more. She must really enjoy his calls to want to tape them. Yet, he knew better that to take too many chances.
         “Hello darling,” he whispered. “Just calling to tell you how much I miss your voice. This machine is so impersonal. I guess I will have to find some other time or way to contact you. Until later, my dear.”
         Mary sat there and listened to the voice leaving the message. Once he had hung up, she rewound the tape and listened to it again trying to place the voice. For an hour she continued listening and rewinding over and over. No clue came to her as to who it could be. She climbed back into bed and kept running through co-workers, ex-boyfriends and the like. Exhausted, she fell asleep.
         Morning came quickly and she called for Beetlebug. He did not come. He was used to using the cat door she set up for him to be able to go out for his morning rituals. He had run off before. Damned cat, she thought. It was like him to just hide to piss her off as well. Mary put out his food and hurried to get to work.
         The workday was typical. Handling irate callers, overdue accounts and the temp. She left and arrived at home fully expecting Beetlebug to be waiting for her. But he wasn’t. For the next two days, there was no sign of him. He had never been gone that long before. She made and put up flyers around the neighborhood. It worried her for him to be gone from her. However, what she did not worry about was the lack of her late night telephone calls for those two nights. Yet, that was a comfort she could not enjoy because of Beetlebug’s disappearance.
         Saturday soon arrived. Mary, like most of the workforce, lived for weekends. She awoke and fixed herself a bowl of cereal. Placing it on the table, she went to the door to get her newspaper. She opened the door. Her heart stopped. Then her scream cut through the still morning. From the top of her door, hanging by a rope, was Beetlebug. His skin was torn from his body and his eyes were gouged out. His face was made up with make-up. More especially, it was her brand of perfumed make-up. His toes were painted with bright red nail polish. His blood was still dripping from his body and onto her newspaper. She was frozen by the sight of the note hung from his tail.
                   You little whore! Thought you would tape me and turn it over
                   to the cops, huh? Well, I’ve got your tape. If you think you have
                   figured me out, remember this. Anything you do, I’m watching.
                   Anywhere you go, I’m there. You won’t see me, but I’ll see you.
                   You cannot run nor hide from me. If you talk, then take a good look
                   at your pussycat here and I’m sure you’ll catch my drift. By the way,
                   nice robe and silk underwear collection you have. I really like the
                   black thong. I can picture you in and out of it. Have a nice day.
         At the bottom of the note was a yellow, smiley face sticker. Mary turned to go back into the apartment, and then her world went black.
         The hospital room was dark, except for the greenish blue haze emanating from the overhead light. Mary awoke and saw it was 8:30 a.m., but she could not figure out where she was. She thought she was alone until a warm hand touched hers. Mary grabbed the bedpan that hang from the side of the bed and swung it. Dan caught it with his freehand. Mary looked up into his eyes.
         “I really don’t have to go, besides I can use the restroom,” quipped Dan. “Good morning, sleepy head.”
         “Where am I?”
         “Columbia City General Hospital. You have been here since yesterday morning. The police found my number in your purse and called me. They told me what happened. I’m sorry for Beetlebug. He really was a good pet, even if he was a cat.”
         “But, how did I get here?”
         “A neighbor heard you scream, saw the mess, and called 911. I imagine you passed out from the shock.”
         “I cannot stand how clinical you are about everything.”
         “Yeah, I know.”
         It was true. Dan was always so calm, cool and clinical about everything. Mary had broken their engagement because she thought she had found the right man in someone else. The right man, it turned out, left her for someone he felt was more right for him. Dan was there to pick her up and still be her friend. Mary’s brief vacation from reality ended. She replayed the last scene she remembered from the Saturday. She broke down and Dan held her.
         Once Mary was released, Dan drove her home. He offered her a place to stay while she got over the loss of Beetlebug. Mary insisted that she go back home. When she got home, she noticed there were no stains from the incident.
         “I came over and cleaned them up once the police allowed me to do so. I figured you wouldn’t want to come home to the scene again.”
         “Thank you.”
         “Do you want me to stay here for a while?”
         “No, go home. I’ll be okay. I promise that if I need anything, I’ll call you, okay?”
         Dan pulled out of the apartment complex. Behind him a dark grey sedan followed at a reasonable distance. At first, Dan did not notice. However, since he lived a considerable distance from Columbia City, Dan soon realized he was being followed. He accelerated. So did the driver of the sedan. Dan turned onto Moss Road and headed toward his part of the county.
         Within the sedan, Milos fumed. No one was going to keep him and Mary apart. Getting rid of the cat was just the first part of his plan. He didn’t want it to alert her or claw at him when he made his move. The voices told him how to handle that. It was fun to skin a cat. He hadn’t counted on Dan. However, the voices told him how to handle this new obstacle to his plans.
         The sedan was on Dan’s back bumper as they turned down the four miles of continuous S curves known appropriately as Hill Curve Road. One side of the road was bordered by a hill and a deep ravine bordered the other. Dan began accelerating again in effort to shake his pursuer. Milos kept up with him. They soon were racing along at 60 on this road meant for 25.
         Wham! Dan was jolted by the sedan ramming him. Wham! A second time and he almost lost control. Suddenly, in a brief part where the road was straight, the sedan came alongside him. Dan looked to see who the maniac was. He turned and looked into a mask of Calvin, from the comic strip ‘Calvin and Hobbes’, which the driver was wearing.
         “Are you fucking crazy!?!” Dan yelled.
         Milos simply flipped Dan ‘the bird’, laughed, then proceeded to use the sedan as a battering ram. Dan slowed in hopes that the maniac would miss and pass him. However, when he changed speed, so did Milos. Dan slowed further. The sedan backed off.
         He’s crazy, thought Dan as he looked into the rear view mirror, but at least he stopped trying to kill me.
         As they continued to race down the hillside, the sedan would alternately tailgate and back off. When they reached the puncture near where the slope into the ravine was the deepest and steepest, the sedan accelerated. Dan slammed on his brakes. Milos reacted with the skill of a NASCAR driver. He swung the steering wheel sharply right and hit the gas. Dan turned to face his executioner. Milos removed his mask, flipped Dan ‘the bird’ again and shoved Dan’s car through the guardrail.
         Milos knew he would be going too fast to stop and prepared for this. He threw himself against the door and hit the pavement rolling. Both cars careened down the hillside. He heard Dan’s screams as the cars bounced off the side of the hill. Then the explosion came. Milos sat there complementing himself on his knowledge of explosives. Not bad for someone dishonorably discharged from the S.E.A.L.S., he thought.
         The voices had kept him from a glorious career, but would not keep him from a glorious future with the object of his passion. He timed the explosives in his car to entirely obliterate both vehicles and leave little, if any, evidence behind. Milos sat on the pavement watching the fireball shoot upward like a roman candle. He glanced around. As usual, no cars in sight. Someone would certainly hear the sound, but would probably dismiss it as thunder or logging.
         He canvassed the area for any signs that might clue to it not being a freak accident and jogged to the end of the road. It hurt a little from the bruises now forming on his arms and legs. A couple of scratches from the pavement scuffed his wrists. Milos did not feel the pain, only the victory of his accomplishments. Nothing stood between him and his prey. He reached a gas station about a mile and a half from the end of Hill Curve Road and called 911.
         “I saw these two nuts drag racing on Hill Curve Road," he said trying to sound like a cross between a hillbilly and a redneck. “I managed to get past them, but I just heard one heck of a boom. You might want to check on it.”
         “Sir, what is your name?” the dispatcher asked.
         “Calvin.” With that, he placed the receiver back onto its cradle, wiped it and the booth clean and left. It was now time for his final assault.
         Mary could not sleep. The sleeping pills prescribed for her would have worked, but she hated taking pills. She called Dan’s house and got his machine. It figures, she thought. All the while they were dating, if she wanted to get in touch with him, he would either be gone or screening his calls. She decided to make herself a cup of herbal tea. As her habit since the calls, she kept all the lights on in her apartment. It was hell on the electric bill, she thought, but it made her feel safe. No darkness meant nowhere for anyone to hide.
         She looked around the room and saw Beetlebug’s bowl in the corner. As tears began to well up in her eyes, the telephone rang. She simply stared at the telephone. Then, the ringing stopped. Then it started again. It had to be Dan. They used to signal each other that way when they were dating and her parents would ground her from talking to him. Mary quickly picked up the telephone.
         “Dan? Is that you? I have been trying to get in touch with you.”
         “Mary? It’s me, June. Am I interrupting something?”
         June was a mutual friend of her and Dan from high school. Actually, friend was not exactly the truth. Classmate fit her better. But June lived under the delusion that anyone and everyone who graduated and stayed in their hometown was somehow a friend. The fact that she had made a play for Dan while still pissed Mary off every now and then, but the whole matter was in the past.
         “It’s 11:00 p.m. Why are you calling at this hour?”
         “I just got back into town and heard what happened to your cat. Do you need anything?”
         “No, thanks for calling, but I am really not ready to talk about that and don’t need anything right now. Thank you for the offer.”
         “Okay, but if you need anything just call me.”
         “Sure. Great. I will.” Mary tried calling Dan again.
In the meantime, the rescue team called off their search for bodies from the wreckage on Hill Curve Road. They managed to locate Dan’s ROTC dog tags hanging from a tree branch. Dan never wore them, unless he needed to for weekend drills. For that reason alone, they were usually kept hanging from his rear view mirror.
Mary went to bed. Damn him, she thought. He never is around when you need him. I guess I will try him again in the morning.
The warmth of the sunlight caressed Mary’s half clothed body. She glanced at the clock. Eleven hours had passed. She could not believe she had slept for so long. Getting up did not seem like a pleasant option either. With all that had happened in such a sort time, Mr. Steeple gave her liberal time off with pay. He even stated she could work part-time or from home if she needed to until she felt ready to come back to the office. While contemplating getting up or not, the telephone rang.
If that’s Dan, she thought, I’ll let him have it.
         “Is this Ms. Tate?” said the voice.
         “Yes, this is Ms. Tate. To whom am I speaking?”
         “Ms. Tate, this is Deputy Swift of the Columbia County Sheriff’s Department. There has been an accident. Do you know a Dan Gates?”
         “Yes, is he alright? What happened?”
         “I’m sorry to tell you this, especially over the telephone, but Mr. Gates was killed in an automobile accident yesterday afternoon. I am so sorry. Ms. Tate? Ms. Tate?”
         Mary dropped the telephone and rocked back and forth in the chair. Tears streamed down her face. Soon, her apartment was filled with her cries of anguish and her screaming her former lover’s name. Why had she broken up with him? Why did she send him home? If she had only let him come in and stay, then maybe he’d still be alive. She picked up the telephone and apologized to the deputy and hung up. She felt sick.
         Mary slouched back from the toilet onto the floor. She got up and walked into her bedroom. Opening her underwear drawer, she found one of Dan’s old t-shirts buried in the back. Holding it to her face, she could still faintly smell the Old Spice he used to wear. She carried it to the bed with her. Closing her eyes, she held the shirt close to her. She thought of all the times they shared. When she awoke about an hour later, she stared at the blank white ceiling. Mary then buried her face into his forever to be empty shirt.
         A few months passed since Mary lost both Beetlebug and Dan. During that time, she entered therapy and was doing nicely according to her shrink. The nightmares about Beetlebug and Dan were becoming less frequent. Another bright point was that there had not been any more telephone calls or notes left on her desk. Maybe the nightmarish part of her life was now over. As the darkness of her life slowly gave way to hope, Mary returned to the office. She also received a promotion to assistant manager of her department. All seemed to be going right again, or at least as good as it could be.
         Mary walked to her desk as usual and checked her telephone messages. The first 15 or so were from other managers and supervisors either giving her reports or requesting information. A couple of customers called to complain and two people called off sick. This was to be a typical day for Mary at the office. The last message was different.
         It began with a children’s music box playing the song ‘Three Blind Mice.’ How cute, Mary thought, someone has a clever way to announce the birth of a child. She no sooner finished that thought, when there came the sound from the message that made the hair on her neck bristle. It was that of a cat meowing. More than that, it was Beetlebug’s meow! The meowing changed to fighting hisses, then to the screaming of a cat being skinned alive. Finally, the message just ended. Mary sat frozen at her desk. She could not bring words to her mouth. A hand touched her shoulder causing her to come back into reality and sit bolt upright. It was Milos.
         “Mary? Are you okay?” he said.
         “Huh?”
         “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”
         “Did you hear that?”
         “Hear what?”
         “That last message on my telephone. It was my cat dying.”
         She played it for Milos. He could barely contain a sense of pride as he listened to his masterpiece. The tape turned out better than he had hoped.
         “Mary, it sounds like the telephone call I got just last week.”
         “Huh?!?”
         “Yeah, some bunch of delinquents on my street got pissed off at me for turning them in to the cops for a drug deal they were putting together. They said they would bet me back for it. They must have stolen my telephone number from a bill in the garbage. I got a message just like that, except the voice said it was one of my cats. It may have even been them trying to get to me again. After all, our extensions are only a number apart.”
         “Have you called the police on it?”
         “Yes, for what good that is actually worth.”
         Mary calmed down. Milos might be right. After all, he had been like a brother to her the last few months. He brought work to her apartment and would sometimes even bring her lunch or flowers. She had even apologized to him for the way she behaved when he started at Bank Blue as a temp. She arranged for his assignment to be extended since he learned so quickly. In fact, as Mary thought, Milos had become almost indispensable to her. Just as he had planned.
         The workday ended and Milos went home. He picked up dinner at a fast food place. Within the last few months, he bought a car and moved to within two blocks of Mary’s place. This suited him much better. Walking into his kitchen, he opened the refrigerator, found a beer and sat down to eat. The shades in the apartment were closed as usual. He liked a dark apartment. Other than that, it looked like any other one bedroom bachelor apartment complete with pizza boxes here and there from time to time. He finished eating and strolled to the bedroom door to begin his usual nightly routine.
         Knocking on the door, Milos called, “Mary? Are you ready honey?”
         He was met with the usual silent response.
         “Ready or not, here comes your love machine.”
         Milos threw open the door and into Mary’s bedroom he went. For the past six months, Milos had meticulously transformed him bedroom into a copy of Mary’s. When he had taken Beetlebug for ‘cleansing,’ he photographed every detail of Mary’s room from her Queen Anne-style dresser to her selection of bras and panties. Everything was an exact match. And every night, Milos ‘had’ Mary. In this case, it was a cheap inflatable doll made to look somewhat like Mary. She was always there to greet him in a seductive manner.
         “You look wonderful tonight.” He whispered into her ear. “What? You want me to tie you up and have you for dessert? Sounds great to me.”
         Milos thought for a moment. Looking down at himself, he saw that everything was ready to do just that.
         “Okay, Mary dear, here I come.”
         It was an unusually cold and rainy day for August. It almost seemed more like autumn than summer. The bank had planned on closing early for the annual picnic on Friday making it a rare long weekend.
         “Milos,” said Mary into the intercom. “Could you please come into my office for a moment?”
         Milos stepped into Mary’s office. She was standing with her back to him and looking out the window. Milos enjoyed the view in her office, but not of the outside. She was dressed conservatively in a black business suit that fit her well. He tried to imagine what she was or was not wearing underneath it.
         “Milos,” she said as she turned to face him. “I’ve been wondering what you have planned for the long weekend. We both know that Bank Blue gatherings pretty much are more painful than a root canal without sedation.”
         “Nothing much at the moment. I’ll probably rent a few videos, eat pizza and drink beer and maybe catch up on some sleep. Why do you ask?”
         “We have worked together for some time now, right?”
         Milos nodded.
         “You have become quite an asset to the company and to me.”
         “I guess so. Is there something wrong?”
         “Since you mentioned it, there are two things I need to speak with you about. First, is about your job.”
         Milos felt anger begin to surge within him. He also thought he heard a small voice. He suppressed it. “What about my job?”
         “I am no longer going to need you as a temporary around here.”
         “What?!” Milos began to feel the anger more and a voice laughing at him. I told you she was like all the rest, it said. Phase 3 would have to begin immediately.
         “Wait, before you get all upset, let me finish. I will not need you as a temp, because I want to hire you to work for me full-time.”
         He looked at her struck with bewilderment. “I don’t know what to say.”
         “Please accept I cannot imagine this place without you.”
         Her almost begging tone excited Milos. He enjoyed the sound of her begging him to stay. This is part of what he wanted. He wanted her there and then, but held himself in check. All in due time, said the voice, all in due time.
         “I’ll stay around,” he said. “If you need me that badly.”
         “Yes, Milos. I need you here that badly.”
         She needs me, he thought. Almost like I need her.
         “The next issue is not related to work. Do you mind?”
         “No, what is it?”
         “We are friends by now, right?”
         “Yes, I would say so,” replied Milos.
         “Then why is it that we have never spoken of your life outside this office? You know more about me than I do about you.”
         “There is not much to tell. I work, go home, go to bed, wake up and start over again the next day. Pretty dull life.”
         “Would you mind considering a change in that routine and having dinner with me? It is not a date, mind you, but a way for me to say thank you for all that you have done for me.”
         “Okay,” said Milos. “But you must come to my place and let me cook. I am a very good chef. I’ll even pick you up, if you don’t mind.”
         “It’s a deal, then. Saturday?”
         “Saturday it is,” said Milos. “I’ll pick up you up at 5:00 p.m.”
         He could not believe it. Phase 3 would happen sooner than he expected. He was finally going to live his fantasy as a reality. She’s in, said the voice. Soon you will be in too.
         Mary wore a baby blue sweater that buttoned up the front and jeans that made her look like a pin-up girl from the 1950’s. Milos walked a little behind her to his Delta 88. His eyes focused on her walk. He watched her hips sway in those pocket less, designer jeans. Mary was not certain as to why she picked this outfit. It was rather suggestive, but maybe it was because she felt so lonely for someone to notice her. She carried the wine and bread in a basket. It was her contribution to dinner. Tonight would be phase 3.
         The drive to Milos’ apartment was almost too short for Mary. She never realized how close they actually lived to one another. His old car certainly did not fit in with the Porsches and Mercedes that filled the parking lot. He opened the door and escorted her into his apartment.
         “After you,” he said holding the door open for her.
         “Thanks, nice décor. Not too many men know how to fix up a place like this.”
         “It’s a natural trait, I guess.”
         Mary was impressed there were none of the usual signs of bachelorhood in sight. His apartment was good-sized, clean and well-ordered. The kitchen had a bar area that overlooked the dining room. Mary found the dishes and silverware while Milos poured the wine. He lit some candles and put soft music on the stereo. As Mary walked from the kitchen, she noticed a strange resemblance to the order of her own apartment, but quickly dismissed it as a coincidence. She almost wished she had called this a date. It had been so long since she met a man who was this tidy, polite and who paid attention to her.
         What she did not notice was the powdery sedative that Milos placed in her wine glass as he poured out. Just the right amount to lengthen the time it would take her to fall asleep. They sat down at the small, Formica-topped table to eat.
         “I’m impressed,” Mary said.
         “With what?”
         “The way you decorate and how clean your place is. Are you sure you have never been married?”
         “Quite sure. I have never found the right girl.”
         “Too bad. I am sure there is someone out there for you.”
         “Not likely. I’m too dull.”
         “Don’t sell yourself short, Milos.”
         He became aroused. Was she actually flirting with him? He wasn’t sure, but he enjoyed this new aspect of the game. Milos tried to keep looking Mary in the eye, but that sweater was filled all too well. Mary noticed his looks and blushed. She was feeling a little light-headed.
         “I apologize for staring. You just look so different than you do at the office.”
         “I’m glad you approve.”
         Neither of them believed she actually said that.
         “I’m feeling a little dizzy. Would you mind if I borrowed your couch?” she said.
         “Are you okay?”
         “Probably all the stress finally leaving me. You know how work has been.”
         “Yes, I do. You lie down while I clean things up. Unless you want me to take you home.”
         Take her home? No way, said the voices.  Take her, yes, but not home.
         “No, I’ll be fine. Just need to get my bearings.” She lay down on the couch.
         Mary awoke with a start. She glanced around the dark room. It looked like her room, but something about it did not feel right. She lay there in her underwear trying to remember what happened. As she tried to sit up, she felt something restraining her arms. What is going on, she thought. While she was trying to put everything together, the door opened and in stepped Milos.
         “What’s going on and why are you in my bedroom?” she screamed.
         “Actually, my dear, you’re in mine.”
         “What?!? You must be crazy.”
         Crazy, said the voices. She dared to call you crazy?
         “Nah, not crazy. Horny, yes, but not crazy.”
         “Let me out of these!”
         “Why? So you can run away?”
         She will run. You will have to do something to keep her here, said the voices. Keep her here permanently.”
         Mary lay there confused and enraged. He had to have brought her home and tied her up, but how? She remembered laying on the sofa in Milos’ apartment. Surely she didn’t sleep that long or soundly. The answers to those thoughts would wait. She had to get away. Think Mary, she thought. Think to survive. Then she recalled what might work.
         “I would never run away from you, dear.” Mary purred, feigning seductiveness.
         “No?”
         Don’t believe her!
         “Of course not, dear. I’ve been waiting for a chance like this, but I want to participate too. Please let me loose, Milos. I promise to make it worth your while. I’ll be so good for you.”
         Don’t do it. She’ll run. Listen to us, not her!
         Milos stood there wondering if she were for real. The voices said, no, but Milos decided to chance it. He removed the left rope, then the right.
         You idiot!
         Mary’s nails slashed across is face like razors. She ran from the room, and then froze in her tracks. She had gone from her bedroom straight into Milos’ living room. She turned to see him coming at her like a charging bull. Mary dove toward the fireplace and grabbed the poker and aimed it at him. Milos stopped.
         “What the hell is going on?” she demanded.
         “I’m going to have you.”
         “The hell you are! Where am I!?!”
         “In my apartment.” Milos said matter of frankly.
         “But I was just in my bedroom!”
         “You like my decorating? It was hard to do from just having pictures, but not bad overall, huh?” Milos said.
         “It was you.”
         “Yes, it was me. It was also me who got rid of your cat and that pesky guy. All for you. I did it all so it would be just us.”
         Mary snapped out of her trance just in time to plant the poker squarely into Milos’ groin. He fell to his knees wailing and thrashing like a shark caught in a net. Mary ran for the door. The voices urged Milos on. Get her! Get her! You must have her!
         “You bitch! I’ll have you now, dead or alive.”
         Milos stumbled to his feet and rushed to pin her against the door. Mary ducked and ran for the kitchen. He turned with amazing speed and was close to her heels. Mary saw the butcher block and pulled out a carving knife. She swung around. Milos could not stop and he impaled himself on the long, sharp blade. He grabbed for her. The force of his fall ripped off both Mary’s bra and panties as she slammed against the stove. Milos lay there motionless as Mary sobbed. She gazed at the lifeless body now beside her.
         Mary gathered her strength and stood up. She stepped over Milos’ body. She felt him grab her ankle and was soon pulled to the floor. He pulled her toward him. Mary slid over the bloody tile closer to him. Milos gasped for air and grasped for the front of her jeans. He pulled her closer. He then pulled himself on top of her. With one hand, he fumbled with the fly of his pants. Blood was flowing from Milos’ chest onto Mary. Soon, his pants were off and exposed his weapon.
         You’ve got her now. Finally, got her. Now do the bitch! Do her! Do her!
         Mary had one chance. She sank her nails into his testicles. Milos screamed in agony and she managed to pull free.
         She crawled over to the table and grabbed her purse. Before Milos could get to her, Mary had her gun drawn. First, one shot. Then another. And another. He somehow kept coming for her.
         Get her! Take her! Have her now! Make her pay for herself and all the bitches!
         His body was bloody, yet driven by anger, lust and the voices. She emptied all six shots into him and he fell at her feet. This time, he did not move again. Mary heard the sirens coming closer. She stumbled out of the apartment and into the night. Blood covered her naked body. She collapsed into the arms of the police officer. The nightmare was now over.
Five years passed quickly. Mary moved far from Columbia City. She found a new job and a new love. His name was Will. She and Will married and had two children, Dan and Donna. The nightmares of the past were fading. She had told Will everything. He has helped her find both therapy and a new life. One day, as Mary was fixing dinner, the telephone rang.
         “Honey, can you get the phone?” called Will from the garage. “Dan just ran off on his bike with Donna’s doll.”
         “Sure, I’ll get it.”
         “Hello?”
         No response.
         “Hello? Is anyone there?”
         “Mary?”
         “Yes, this is she. Who is this?”
         “I’ve missed you all these years.”
         Mary shivered. She thought she recognized the voice. But it couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.