Agents Of Death (standard:horror, 4103 words)
Author: Stephen-Carver Byrd	Added: Apr 22 2003	Views/Reads: 3672/2329	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Two death angels negotiate a deal with a financially troubled woman

AGENTS OF DEATH 

By: Stephen Bryan (HurricaneWarning) 

The knock on Fay Benton's door was much more than the casual knock of a
welcomed friend or stranger. It was loud, aggressive and infected with 
a sense of enraged fury. Fay rose from the sofa knowing precisely who 
her nighttime caller would be. Slowly she opened her door, taking 
careful note that the security chain was in position. “Yes?” she asked, 
peering through the small door opening. 

“I've had just about enough of you, young lady,” called the elderly
woman from the far side of the door. “You owe me rent and you owe it 
right this minute!” the landlord demanded. 

“Mrs. Hopkins, I told you last week that I got a new job as a waitress.
In fact, I'm starting tonight and my boss promised me an advance,” Fay 
lied. 

“Oh, hogwash!” cried the old woman. “Excuses and apologies, I‘m sick to
death of hearing them. You're nothing but a lazy little bitch who won't 
work and has no intention of ever paying her rent on time.” 

“But I'm only two weeks late, Miss Hopkins, I can catch up by using the
advance, then I'll be able to pay next month's rent on time,” Fay 
pleaded. 

“I hear that rigged excuse month in and month out, and you've never been
caught up,” snapped the landlord. “Well now your freeloading time has 
just came to an end. I going straight to my apartment and begin writing 
your eviction. If I don't have my rent by first thing in the morning, 
I'm kicking your useless carcass right out of that apartment. Furniture 
and all.” 

Fay never gained the opportunity to close the door herself. The old
woman furiously pushed it swiftly forward sending Fay backward and 
delivering a hardy blow directly to her forehead. With an old but 
vigorous hand, Miss Hopkins slammed the door shut in a piercing boom. 
“I'd better have it by morning,” she shouted in a muffled voice through 
the closed door, “or else you'll be out on the street with the rest of 
those sorry bums!” 

Fay walked slowly into her shabby kitchen and applied a cold rag to her
throbbing forehead. Presently, there came another knock to her door, 
but this knock was gentle, less perceptible, almost timid in nature. 

Fay walked slowly in the direction of the door. “Who's there?” she
called out. There was no answer. Another soft tap. Carefully she 
cracked the door and observed what appeared to be two affluent 
businessmen standing in the dim glow of the hallway. Both wore 
expensive looking dark suits, light blue shirts and fashionable ties. 
“Yes, what can I do for you?” she asked in a curious yet solemn manner. 


“Miss Benton, we didn't mean to eavesdrop, but we did overhear the
conversation between yourself and your landlord, “ spoke the older of 
the two men, his voice carrying the impression of dominance and 
pleasure within the same measure. “I think we may be able to remedy the 
situation if you would permit us a few moments of your time.” 

“What's this all about?” Fay questioned. “And how do you know my last
name?” 

“Let's just say we have our contacts and leave it at that,” returned the
tall, mysterious gentleman. 

“Oh, I get it now,” Fay retorted. “You guys are cops, right? Well if
you're after that drug-head, ex-boyfriend of mine, he's been out of my 
life for over a year now.” 

“I can readily assure you, Miss Benton that we are not in the line of
any police duties,” spoke the younger man, who's voice also carried a 
sense of power yet satisfaction. “We only wish to propose an offer that 
could greatly help with your financial situation. Perhaps you should 
consider it a job opportunity.” 


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