Leland Bode – Karmic Debt Collector.
Angel my Zombie secretary was always too fucking perky in the morning. She was typing way on that infernal computer. I got her from the Zombie temp Agency- Nothing Personnel. She was efficient. Her decomposition was very slight around the temples. She was one of the new age zombies that didn’t think the manageable affliction of semi-death was an excuse not to be bubbly.
ANGEL – Hey boss, Hung over?
I was so hung over my hair hurt. My oldish body hurt. Can’t recover like I used to. I used to snap back like a bungee cord. Now I snap back like a cinder block. Well hell, age will do that to you. I’m big, lankier than a brute like Bunny. With a lean face, of two sapphire eyes in cavernous sockets. My blondish hair had more grays in it that a civil war re-enactment. My goatee groomed just enough to give me a diabolic appearance.
BODE – Angel make me some coffee. Please.
Bunny stood leaning against the wall. Bunny used to be a magicians rabbit. But a mislaid curse that intended to turn his magician owner into a rabbit accidentally turned his rabbit into a man. Bunny was built like a beer truck. Albino with just masses of hair. Her liked to wear black. He maintained some of his Lepus traits. He was a vegetarian and a letch. And hitting on angel was his pastime. He wasn’t her type. Living.
BUNNY – We got a client boss.
BODE – She’s already in there?
I saw her shadow through the frosted amber glass. With the stenciled lettering in a crimson. Leland Bode – Karmic Debt Collector. She turned in profile. Her silhouette held promises of more curves than a patch of highway where the workmen were paid in whiskey. Angel made my coffee Irish. Such a good lass.
I saw her there in the office. She had the look of a lady who knew how to smoke. Little promising smoke rings drifted up. She was a brunette, another personal weakness. Her hair continued the curve theme down to the small of her back. Her dress was red. Tight revealing and tantalizing in equal measure. But her slate gray eyes were the most striking.
AVA – Mr. Bode?
BODE – What can I do for you Miss.
AVA – Just call me Ava.
BODE – I repeat the previous question.
AVA – You collect Karmic Debt?
BODE – Yes 300 a day, plus expenses. I track and repatriate. What was taken?
AVA – A life.
BODE – A life for a life. Easily done. Who is the mark?
AVA – My husband, he’s blackmailing me.
BODE – Ah Marital bliss? And who’s life did he take?
She threw a series of four 8x10 black and white photographs - #1 was of a man, I am assuming the lover. In a state of relations with Ava. The look on her face was of blissful pleasure. I looked them over.
#2 – was more of the same.
BODE – SO you married him for money.
I was baiting her; People don’t often extort those without capital. I let her think I was a misogynist from the old school. Later I would blame my upbringing. I stopped at picture two.
AVA – He married me for mine.
BODE – I assumed.
I flipped to picture #3 – The lover was dead. Stabbed multiple times.
I stopped and looked at her. Her eyes full of that gray fire of ire I saw embers of. I knew the last picture was going to reveal all.
Photo #4 – Was of Ava – stabbed multiple times. Bleeding out.
BODE – You survived.
AVA – After a fashion.
She unclasped the belt of her dress and there was a subway map of scars across that perfect body. He left her face alone. His prize. There was only so much perfection you could mar.
BODE – SO the life he took?
AVA – Was mine.
Angel my Zombie secretary was always too fucking perky in the morning. She was typing way on that infernal computer. I got her from the Zombie temp Agency- Nothing Personnel. She was efficient. Her decomposition was very slight around the temples. She was one of the new age zombies that didn’t think the manageable affliction of semi-death was an excuse not to be bubbly.
ANGEL – Hey boss, Hung over?
I was so hung over my hair hurt. My oldish body hurt. Can’t recover like I used to. I used to snap back like a bungee cord. Now I snap back like a cinder block. Well hell, age will do that to you. I’m big, lankier than a brute like Bunny. With a lean face, of two sapphire eyes in cavernous sockets. My blondish hair had more grays in it that a civil war re-enactment. My goatee groomed just enough to give me a diabolic appearance.
BODE – Angel make me some coffee. Please.
Bunny stood leaning against the wall. Bunny used to be a magicians rabbit. But a mislaid curse that intended to turn his magician owner into a rabbit accidentally turned his rabbit into a man. Bunny was built like a beer truck. Albino with just masses of hair. Her liked to wear black. He maintained some of his Lepus traits. He was a vegetarian and a letch. And hitting on angel was his pastime. He wasn’t her type. Living.
BUNNY – We got a client boss.
BODE – She’s already in there?
I saw her shadow through the frosted amber glass. With the stenciled lettering in a crimson. Leland Bode – Karmic Debt Collector. She turned in profile. Her silhouette held promises of more curves than a patch of highway where the workmen were paid in whiskey. Angel made my coffee Irish. Such a good lass.
I saw her there in the office. She had the look of a lady who knew how to smoke. Little promising smoke rings drifted up. She was a brunette, another personal weakness. Her hair continued the curve theme down to the small of her back. Her dress was red. Tight revealing and tantalizing in equal measure. But her slate gray eyes were the most striking.
AVA – Mr. Bode?
BODE – What can I do for you Miss.
AVA – Just call me Ava.
BODE – I repeat the previous question.
AVA – You collect Karmic Debt?
BODE – Yes 300 a day, plus expenses. I track and repatriate. What was taken?
AVA – A life.
BODE – A life for a life. Easily done. Who is the mark?
AVA – My husband, he’s blackmailing me.
BODE – Ah Marital bliss? And who’s life did he take?
She threw a series of four 8x10 black and white photographs - #1 was of a man, I am assuming the lover. In a state of relations with Ava. The look on her face was of blissful pleasure. I looked them over.
#2 – was more of the same.
BODE – SO you married him for money.
I was baiting her; People don’t often extort those without capital. I let her think I was a misogynist from the old school. Later I would blame my upbringing. I stopped at picture two.
AVA – He married me for mine.
BODE – I assumed.
I flipped to picture #3 – The lover was dead. Stabbed multiple times.
I stopped and looked at her. Her eyes full of that gray fire of ire I saw embers of. I knew the last picture was going to reveal all.
Photo #4 – Was of Ava – stabbed multiple times. Bleeding out.
BODE – You survived.
AVA – After a fashion.
She unclasped the belt of her dress and there was a subway map of scars across that perfect body. He left her face alone. His prize. There was only so much perfection you could mar.
BODE – SO the life he took?
AVA – Was mine.
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