The Death Parlor
It was called The Death Parlor, and what a fine establishment it was! Men came, women came, children came – everybody came. It didn’t distinguish between race or gender or age or beauty or intelligence or disability. No, everyone could be treated equally there, depending how much money they paid. And, oh! Was it a nice place!
There were many concerns about it at first, but as time passed, it became a very popular place to go. Celebrities, tired of fame and prestige, would go there to relieve themselves of the human race — but it wasn’t limited to just celebrities, oh no! Normal people went there all the time, wanting finally to be free.
And freedom is always a good thing. Always.
Politicians announced it as the greatest thing to peoplekind, and it was. Hundreds of death parlors popped up around the world, all with similar, fantastic results. They were the single biggest reason why murders and suicides and depression and drug abuse and homosexuality and beatings and old age and abortions and petty theft and illnesses were eliminated– and everyone was glad.
Nancy was glad about it too, but in a slightly more apathetic way. She knew about them, of course – her daughter Anna went to them once, several years ago. And Nancy supposed she was glad for that. It meant she didn’t have to cook as much, which was good since she wasn’t fond of cooking. Or cleaning. She hated doing that. Still, she didn’t particularly care about the death parlors. They were just there.
She lived quite close to several, actually. There was one death parlor in particular that was of remarkable prestige. She knew it was of remarkable prestige by the way it looked. Instead of having concrete walls, hiding rooms as most death parlors did, the opening wall was made out of glass, as if to show off to the whole world that it was alive. Inside, there was a big desk with a receptionist sitting, always smiling. Pastel colors lined the other walls and comfortable chairs covered the floor. It was a nice place and it was always cozy.
She passed by it everyday when she went to work, but never actually went in. She thought she was too busy for that kind of nonsense. So when Nancy stepped into the place, she wondered why she didn’t come in sooner. It was raining outside and the world seemed so dreary at the moment that it was only natural for her to come in. And she was glad. The temperature was moderate inside, and right beside her, there was a coat rack and an umbrella stand. It was almost as if they expected her. She hung up her dripping coat and then struggled with her umbrella. It wouldn’t close.
“It’s bad luck having an open umbrella inside,” a cheerful feminine voice said behind the counter. Nancy looked up and saw a young girl, looking up at her with a big smile. She was forced to smile.
The girl. Actually, she wasn’t a girl. Nancy was just ancient. She was forty years, eight months, and sixteen days old. Her hair was beginning to thin and her cheeks had started sagging. That was why she smiled so much – sagging cheeks were a sign of weakness. Nancy squinted and read the name on the girl’s desk. Her name was Julie.
Julie was beautiful, and it was obvious at once why she was a receptionist for such a grand establishment. She had such a way about her that Nancy could not help but relax. She guessed Julie was about twenty, which was old – well past middle age, at least – but at the same time, she still had a clever, quick look about her that was fun.
When Nancy smiled at her, Julie shuffled through some papers and frowned. “You don’t have an appointment, do you?”
“No. I was just curious.” She looked around and rubbed her hand on a sleek pink couch. “This place is beautiful.”
Julie nodded in agreement. “I helped decorate it. It’s absolutely gorgeous, isn’t it?” she said happily. “So many other death parlors are so dull and morbid. But here, here there’s life!” When she caught Nancy smiling again, she leaned over secretively. “I think that’s why people come to us instead,” she whispered. “It’s pretty.”
Nancy had to agree. She nodded her head and suddenly looked at the counter, blushing. “I don’t know why I came here,” she said. “I don’t think I want your services.”
“Not many people do at first,” Julie said smiling.
Nancy nodded. “My daughter, Anna, did. About ten years ago.” She frowned. “I’m not quite sure when. I wasn’t really paying attention at that time.” Julie nodded understandably.
“Ah, she probably had the time of her life then. Did she come here?”
“Perhaps.”
Julie smiled. “Then that’s wonderful. It really is beautiful.” When Nancy frowned, Julie cocked her head and said, “Is something wrong?”
“I’m not quite sure.” When Julie looked at her inquiringly with soulful brown eyes, she squirmed nervously and sat on a light green couch. “I suppose I am interested in your services.”
Julie’s eyes twinkled. “I see! You feel old and you want to connect yourself to your daughter. And you hope that our services will do it for you.”
Nancy stopped. “Perhaps,” she said hesitantly. Julie laughed.
“Come! Let me show you what happens. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind.” She hopped over the counter and grabbed a vidscreen with her, along with a pen.
“I’m not sure…” Nancy began. But before she could say anything, Julie had snuggled up next to her, a large vidscreen in her lap. She tapped the pen on the vidscreen a couple of times and then it exploded into pastel colors, like the room. Julie smiled.
“See, over here, we pride ourselves with professionalism and giving our clients what they deserve.” She frowned. “You know our mission?”
“Yes,” Nancy said. “You kill people.”
Julie laughed. “Oh, don’t be so barbaric. We kill people, but artistically. So they won’t have to live long and horrible lives. Life, to us, is an adventure, and dying should have the same amount of adventure and fun. So our clients’ deaths are always fun and rewarding.”
Nancy tried to smile. “That’s nice.”
“So,” Julie asked, her voice businesslike, “do you want to buy a death?”
Nancy thought about this for a second and laughed. “Yes. Why not?” She was old. She could use some excitement.
“Do you have any deaths in mind?” When Julie saw Nancy hesitate, she smiled. “You need ideas, don’t you?”
“I think that would be good.”
Julie laughed again and then bent her face close to Nancy’s. “When was the last time you had sex?”
An involuntary feeling tickled Nancy’s body. She smiled reluctantly. “Eleven years, five months, three weeks, and two days,” she said. “It’s been a long time.”
Julie nodded. “What if you could do it again?”
Nancy stared at her. It was impossible. At age thirty, a woman was considered too old to participate in that sort of activity. And at age forty years, eight months, and sixteen days, it was just an ancient dream. She had always suspected that, as soon as her husband divorced her when she was twenty-nine years, five months, and eight weeks old, she would never have sex again. She began trembling. “Who would love me?”
Julie smiled and tapped her pen on the computer a couple of more times. Instantly, a picture of a man appeared. He was strong and muscular and handsome. And he was only wearing a loincloth. Nancy wondered what was behind that. She stared eagerly at the picture. “His name is Jonathon,” Julie said happily. “He’s a robot, yes, but one of the top of the line ones. His skin feels like real skin and everything else feels natural.”
“Even when he fucks you?”
Julie had to smile. “Yes, even when he fucks you. Wonderful, isn’t it?” She flipped through another picture and a slightly different, but still very handsome robot showed up. This one was named Alex.
“What’s underneath there?” Nancy pointed to the loincloth. Julie smiled.
“The usual. We custom-make the penis, just to suit you. Because every woman is different.” Nancy nodded seriously.
“I like Jonathon the best.”
Julie smiled. “Yes, I like Jonathon too.” She made a quick note in her vidscreen and then flipped through another menu. “He’s one of the more popular ones, he is. But there’s a reason for that. He’s so handsome.”
Both of them giggled nervously. Julie tapped her pen on the vidscreen several more times to show other models before it reverted back to pastel colors.
“So I take it you’ll want sex before you die?” Julie finally asked.
“Yes, please.” Then, as an afterthought, she said, “With Jonathon.”
Julie laughed. “It’s a little more expensive, but well worth it, I guarantee you that!” She began to sort through a long complicated list. Nancy peered over her shoulder.
“Do employees get some benefits?” she asked. Julie smiled.
“If you’re asking whether I’ve been with Jonathon, the answer is no. Employees are not allowed sex with the robots.” She made a face and then laughed. “Maybe soon, though! I am getting old. Goodness, I’ll turn twenty-two in four months!”
“You’re still very young yet.” She reminded Nancy of her daughter.
Julie shook her head. “Oh, stop flattering me! No, the reason why I know how the robots do their work is because employees are allowed direct access to the videos. And the videos are quite invigorating.” She smiled mischievously. “Would you like to see some?” When Nancy hesitated, Julie added, “It’s not illegal for you to look at them. In fact, we quite encourage it.”
“Very well then,” Nancy said. “Let’s see it.”
Julie smiled. “I’ll show you the ones with women in them,” she promised. She bit her tongue and her pen raced over the vidscreen.
Instantly, an image appeared on the screen. There was a woman and another man… or was he a robot? He was fucking her good and hard. Her face was split into pleasure and she was moaning – no, screaming – in pleasure. The image cut off and then there was another woman, this time with Jonathon. And then there was another woman. And another…
Nancy couldn’t take her eyes off of it.
“Don’t they die?”
“Of course they do. Would you like to see them die?” Alex had the woman pressed against the wall and he was heaving it into her so that she could only squeal, her eyes closed tightly. Nancy shivered, though she wasn’t sure whether it was in excitement or fear.
“Yes,” she said. “I want to see them die.”
Julie flicked the pen over. This sex scene didn’t flicker to another… instead Alex brought her to a device – a guillotine, and brought her up. He mounted her, her head below the blade. And then he pushed up hard. She scrambled up, and just as she did, the blade fell.
Alex came off of her.
“Wow,” Nancy murmured.
“That’s one of the cheaper deaths,” Julie said. “Blades aren’t particularly expensive. The animal ones are much more expensive. We have sharks and elephants and snakes and tigers and pigs – just about anything you could ever hope for.” Her pen slid to another part of the screen and she tapped it twice. “This is someone who liked dogs.”
This one had no sex. Instead, a girl stood in the middle of the room, dogs surrounding her. She was petting them. Then, all of a sudden, they sprang for her and ravished her. Ten minutes past and they were finished… the girl was left a bleeding mess.
“I don’t want a death like that,” Nancy said.
“Not many people do,” Julie admitted. “But everyone is different.” Her pen flicked across the screen again. “Here’s a woman who wanted electrocution.”
This was a sexual death, and immediately Nancy smiled. This time it was Jonathon, and he was wonderful at it again… as she expected he would be. His magnificent body filled the entire screen until he lifted off the woman… or girl. She was about thirteen years old, in any case.
Then he picked up a device that looked like irons. And he came to her and put it on the girl’s underdeveloped breasts. The girl smiled for a second as Jonathon began turning up a dial. The girl’s brow became wrinkled… and then she screamed. The image faded out.
“That might be nice,” Nancy muttered.
“Yes, it might.” The screen went blank. Julie smiled. “We sell many deaths. There’s animal attacks and blades and drugs and other things of the sort. We even have cannibalism, if that’s your sort of thing.”
Nancy frowned. “I think Anna drowned, but I can’t be sure.”
Julie nodded politely. “That’s a cheaper death, perfect for the younger ones. How old was she at the time, do you know?”
“Seventeen.” Really, that was only a guess. Nancy tried to think, but it had been ten years ago. Ten long years. Perhaps she was younger? She didn’t remember. But it didn’t matter.
She stood up.
“Well, thank you very much, Julie.”
“My pleasure.” Julie stood up and shook her hand. “Perhaps we shall meet soon?”
Nancy smiled. “Yes. Very soon.”
“Shall we make an appointment tomorrow? At six o’clock, say?” When Nancy hesitated, Julie added, “If you want, you can inspect Jonathon then.”
Nancy had to smile. She thought about what Julie had just said and shook her head. “No, not at six. I have work and it takes seven minutes for me to walk here.”
Julie bit her lip. “Seven after six then?” Nancy smiled.
“That would be perfect.”
Julie laughed and waved her goodbye. “See you tomorrow!”
“Bye.”
Nancy picked up her umbrella, which had not yet closed, and shook it out once more before walking out into the rain and back home.
She forgot her coat.
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