A Force to End All Worlds

Slowly turning the beautiful and ornate key over, her eyes followed the intricate pattern of the swirled engravings. It was an undeniable weight in her palm, the type of design only known in fairy tales about magical forests, but the question was, how did it find its way on top of her messy and unkempt office desk.

The cherry red finish was barely visible beneath of the clutter of unfinished reports, unfiled documents, and unresolved issues. This stack of papers, despite its menacing appearance, was no match for the glow of her computer screen that seemed to continuously call to her with a sinister growl.

There was no time to waste staring at enigmas, she thought to herself, as her delicate fingers ruffled through the pile of documents laying haphazardly within her sight. The key collided with the wood, making an undeniable thud that mingled with her sigh. If only she could find the answer to…

“The answer to what,” softly questioned the gentleman.

The hot liquid danced in her coffee cup and flowed over the white sheets as her leg knocked against the desk. Expletives poured from her mouth like the blazing fire from within her soul.

“Look at what you did,” she breathlessly exclaimed, burying her head in her hands as she whimpered.

“I’m terribly sorry, Ma Chere,” he soothingly replied. Sauntering towards her, his eyes locked onto her exhausted expression as he smiled.

“I apologize,” she offered as her trembling hands tried to blot the wet documents with a disposable napkin.

“No offense taken, I assure you,” he stated as he muttered something under his breath.

Producing a jewelled encrusted silver box from underneath his velvet coat, he ran his fingers along the exterior, catching her attention.

“If you would simply slide that key into this lock, all of your troubles would vanish in an instant, Pandora.”

“How did you know my name, Sir?” As if coming out of a trance, she continued, “Are you a client? Why are you here,” she stammered as she momentarily stopped sopping up the coffee, letting the soaked rag hit the wooden floor.

“None of that is important, Miss,” snapped the individual impatiently, his eyes glowing with anger.

******

The hot and strong-smelling coffee splashed against the bottom of the white porcelain cup. Rising to meet the dusty air of the brightly lit West Virginia diner, the steam intermingled with the smoke that lingered in the air. Chatter filled the small room as she rushed to wipe a dark orange tabletop with her damp cloth. If the health inspector caught the customers smoking, the establishment was sure to be fined, but hell, this was Southern West Virginia and ninety percent of the population were smokers, Christy Lynn Thought to herself through her sleep deprived mind.

“Darlin’ have you got those bacon and eggs a’cooken yet,” rang a clear and distinct male voice over the quiet roar of the chatter.

“Comin’ right up, Sir,” she obediently replied, running behind the counter to fetch the sizzling plate of freshly prepared food. Glancing out to the light created by the solitary streetlamp, Christy wondered why the small establishment was so full tonight.

Placing the plate upon the bar counter in front of the stern but cheerful gentleman, she sighed, as she quickly scampered to respond to a customer’s raised hand. Approaching the table, she noticed that yellowed and tattered Bible’s lay open as the crowds’ heads bowed in a loud prayer. The elderly woman extended her palm towards Christy in a friendly invitation to join in the worship. Slipping her hand into the older woman’s wrinkled palm, Christy bowed her head and fought off the urge to sleep.

Feeling a gentle touch on her shoulder, the lady beamed at her before stating, “Honey, you aint gotta rush. You just do whatever you need to be a good Mama to that baby of yours.”

Placing her hands protectively over her enlarged tummy, she silently and humbly nodded her head, conferring some type of inborn respect and humility before her thoughts turned to anger. “If I ever find Jessie again, I swear on my Daddy’s grave that I will make him regret running off,” she promised herself under her breath.

“Excuse me, Ma Chere, but I would like some coffee,” whispered a mysterious accent.

Looking into a very unfamiliar face, Christy Lynn’s pen fell from the pocket of her pink waitress uniform, making a metallic sound as it bounced off of the black and white tiled floor. Hypnotic was the only way she could describe his eyes. Picking the writing implement from the ground, her fingers touched a hard object. Allowing her eyes to settle on the beautiful key that she had produced, she remained puzzled as the bright lights suddenly dimmed around her.

“I can make those forbidden desires come true, ma petite Chere,” quipped the finely dressed man in his elegant French accent.

Producing a bejewelled box from underneath his coat, his voice grew low and commanding as his eyes bore into hers, “All I need is for you to slip that key into this lock.”

“Baby girl, is this man hassling you,” interrupted a familiar man’s voice to her left.

“I’m fine, Joe,” stated Christy as she turned back towards her new customer.