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Afternoon at the Chikara Estate

I just find humans so fascinating, you know?

By LiliaPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
6

A young woman, mid-twenties perhaps, sits by herself under the shade of a blooming magnolia tree. She leans back slowly, then abruptly springs forward as her yolk-yellow blouse catches on the trunk. She peers with concern at her sleeve, where several threads are now hanging loose, and emits a small sigh at her blunder.

Assembled on the neatly cut grass before her is a most delectable spread of charcuterie, cheese, and fresh fruit. And of course, a tall bottle of Pinot Noir, and two elegant wine glasses.

“Hello Nara.”

She looks up, all smiles and rosy cheeks, as a dark-haired, young man approaches her. Dressed in a midnight blue tuxedo, he is the picture of inherited wealth. His slender hands have never known rough work, and his porcelain skin appears untouched by the sun.

“Benji! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” The girl daintily picks herself up, careful not to brush against the tree.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. There’s always work to do this time of the year, but I hope you enjoyed the estate?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t, not without you. Would you like to walk together?”

He laughs at her suggestion. “Nara, I live here.”

The girl appears confused for a moment, then smiles brightly.

“You would be the perfect guide then!”

He looks at her closely, and she looks back unblinking with the same beguiling smile.

“Maybe later. Let’s sit,” he says, his voice suddenly brusque. He crosses his legs as he sits carefully on one end of the plaid picnic blanket. She follows suit, tucking her skirt neatly under her legs. Still smiling, she continues looking at her host, as though waiting for his next cue.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he finally says.

“I’m a writer. Fiction, mostly.”

“Oh? Didn’t expect you’d write,” he says offhandedly, as though speaking to himself. “What about?”

“Anything – though, my favorite is people.” She continues on enthusiastically, glad to have something to talk about. “And their relationships, of course. I just find humans so fascinating, you know? Sometimes I’ll sit at a coffee shop, people-watch, and eavesdrop on a conversation or two for inspiration.”

“That’s creepy,” he mutters under his breath. “I guess, how did you get into writing in the first place?”

“My mother and father were writers too.”

“Mother and father, you say?”

“Yes. They were obsessive, almost. Always trying to craft the perfect character or dialogue. My life was basically an unending script. Anyways, they told me stories are the best way to connect with others. They make people, as they’d say, open up.”

“I see.” Benji is quiet, contemplative. He scans her body, as though looking for imperfections. His gaze lingers on the fraying threads of her sleeve. “And how many men have you tried, opening up?”

“Oh, Benji. This is my first date,” she says demurely with a lilting laugh.

He looks away. Something about the laugh sounds unnatural – it was the kind of laugh that one rehearsed in front of a mirror.

“Pour me a drink.” He gestures to the wine glasses.

She obediently uncorks the Pinot Noir and hands him a glass.

“What about you?”

“Oh, I don’t really drink. It’s bad for my figure.”

He frowns, opens his mouth as if to protest, then shakes his head. “Well, suit yourself.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes. The courtyard is quiet except for a soft hum and the occasional rustling of leaves.

“You know what? How about we go for that walk?” Benji says as he finishes his second glass.

“Yes, I’d love that.” The girl moves to get up. Slowly, hands lifting both sides of her skirt delicately. There is something mechanical about the way she stands. Practiced, controlled, calculated.

He walks briskly ahead, while she trails by his heel. As they continue through the courtyard, he points to a fleet of alien vessels.

“The Umisora. They’re my father’s latest obsession. Fully self-driving on all terrains, in the sea, and in the sky. To own that many is a luxury only the Chikara family can afford.”

From a distance, the Umisora looked like paper planes, but up close, each vessel is the size of a two-passenger vehicle. The vessels are fully enclosed by white armor plates that shimmer in the sun, leaving no immediately apparent ways of entry.

“That’s impressive, Benji,” Nara says. “Can we take one out? Just for a little ride.” She looks at him through her long eyelashes.

Benji laughs, a cruel, bitter sound coming from a handsome face.

“The last girl that wanted to take a little ride with me – well, let’s just say she never recovered from it. My mother made sure of that.”

He takes a step towards her. “Still want to go? Afraid yet?”

“If you want me to be,” she whispers, with just the right quiver in her voice.

Ignoring her, he takes another step and caresses her cheek. “But I can’t blame my mother, now can I? She’s careful, she’s shrewd, and she’s ruthless, but it’s my fortune she’s protecting after all. We can’t have outsiders touching Chikara property.”

“I’m very grateful you’re seeing me then.” She touches his hand.

“Oh, I have ways of getting around my mother. There’s no shortage to the people I can see. But she – she was different.” His voice takes on a hard edge, and he glares at her. His face is inches away from hers. “And you, you’re just a sad imitation of her. You were my mother’s stupid idea.”

He grabs her then and pushes her against the inner courtyard wall. She appears frozen, but she doesn’t resist as his hands crawl their way over her body. An observer might even find the scene lovely – a tall, striking young man with his beautiful lover, in a garden of yellow marigolds and purple petunias.

“At least they got your proportions right.” Benji seems to have lost himself as he gropes beneath her blouse.

Nara finally processes what’s happening, and she melts against him, all moans and giggles.

Violently, as though shocked out of a trance, Benji rips out of her embrace. Disgust and anger ripple across his face.

“That’s way too easy. They didn’t get that right – she wasn’t a whore,” he sneers at her. He strides back to the picnic spread and begins to pour the wine into a glass.

“Drink it.”

“No – I, uh, can’t.” She backs away.

“I said, drink it.” He grabs her by the waist and forces her lips open with the brim of the glass. He continues pouring as she starts to choke.

The choking becomes quivering, then thrashing, and finally, silence, as the girl falls onto the manicured lawn.

All is quiet in the courtyard.

––

To the manufacturer:

It has come to my attention that your Nara Lovebot Series 3.0 would benefit from some serious improvements. According to my son, the young, attractive female robot that was delivered to our estate was defective. After going for a brief stroll in our lovely gardens, the robot began to convulse and fall apart. What a terrible sight it was! How could an esteemed company like yours deliver such grotesque products? The torn clothes, the ripped legs – I shudder to remember.

I expect a quick and generous remedy to this unfortunate situation. I will be awaiting your response.

Lady Chikara

––

If you enjoyed this short story, consider giving a heart or even a tip! Better yet, check out some of my other writing, including To Light a Lantern, A Shipload of Dreams, and Rain Like Coffee.

Sci Fi
6

About the Creator

Lilia

dreamer of fantasy worlds. lover of glutinous desserts.

twitter @linesbylilia

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