Lovely Assistant
Michelle Sawyer exploded.
The crowded gasped in shock as the cheerful, peppy young magician appeared to be engulfed in a blinding flash of fire and smoke, a deafening roar crashing down upon them. With the acrid smoke now settling and the sickening black scorch mark becoming clearer, their amazed, worried mutters rose in volume. The air smelt horrifically, realistically burnt - Felicity Ross chewed her lower lip worriedly, clutching her empty serving platter to her chest as her eyes darted around for Chez Clement's biggest draw.
She couldn't have really...
"Heyyyyy, guys! What's cookin'?"
Eyes flicked upward to the rafters, where a grinning, cross-legged Michelle sat - pink curls and tiny little matching top hat perfectly in place, pale skin not even the slightest bit burnt or flushed.
"Not me, I'll tell you that!" she answered, giggling, as the crowd laughed and applauded. Admiring whistles pierced her diamond-studded ears. "You know, it's rude to stare," she continued, wagging an admonishing finger at them-
POOF
In a cloud of glitter, she was back on-stage nigh-instantaneously.
"-In the wrong direction!" she finished, taking a bow as the audience cheered. Various appreciative trinkets from the audience landed at her feet - many colors of flowers, mostly roses, small stuffed animals... and a few pairs of panties.
The last always amused and slightly revolted her. This was Echo Town, not Vegas! And while the admittedly-small Chez Clement was far from a five-star metropolitan establishment, it also held enough of an air of class and decorum to set it apart from some booze-soaked dive like the Blue Bar of Forget-me-not Valley. It was the perfect place to make her start, as far as she was concerned.
Waving goodbye to her boss and the relieved young waitress, Michelle left the restaurant a short time later, clutching the more desirable of her gifts to her chest and humming happily - Clement usually burnt the carelessly-discarded delicates, or so he said. Sometimes, however, she wondered...
Who cares? Giggling, she rounded the corner past the general store, Lark Fields bobbing into view. Time to get ready to meet the hubby!
Michelle Sawyer - neé Weinrecht - truly considered herself a very lucky girl. She had crowds of adoring fans watching her successful magic show, every night. The throngs kept growing! She'd been considering offers to move and perform elsewhere, in bigger towns, for bigger paychecks, under bigger spotlights. The thought certainly appealed to her quite often.
And her husband... her lovely, sweet, shy, generous husband, Henry Sawyer - they'd been married for four months now, after a beautiful year together. He was always pampering her, showering her with whatever she asked for. Chocolates? Only the finest imports, naturally. Her beloved chiffon cake? Even Master Clement himself could bake no finer. Flowers? The cream of the crop, grown in his own fertile fields. Jewelry? Why, he mined the gemstones himself - he said he loved the fact that every time he saw her pink diamond earrings glitter, it was a reminder of how much he loved her and toiled for her.
That she truly adored the finer things in life troubled him none - anything for the beautiful, happy woman whose smile was worth every last drop of sweat and sore muscle his work brought.
As she entered her and Henry's house at Lark Fields, depositing her cache of daily gifts upon the kitchen counter and making her way upstairs to get ready for their evening date, she smiled at the memories. Even when she had been considering proposing to him, it had been as if he had read her mind - her eyes sparkled in delight and relief at the brilliant blue feather. She didn't even need to explain her feelings to him - and, perhaps, that was for the best.
Sitting in front of her vanity mirror, Michelle hummed an upbeat pop song to herself as she twisted her hair up into a cute-but-elegant bun, spraying a fine mist of perfume on her throat: Sirène Séduisante, an intoxicating, sweet fragrance that Henry had imported for her from France.
Sliding deep pink lip gloss on - the same shade as her nails - Michelle allowed herself a small grin as the earrings glinted in the light from their bedside lamp.
Yes, Henry was a fantastic partner.
Henry's smile widened as he saw Michelle approaching him on the hillside trail, taking his hands out of the pockets of his white slacks and kissing her own extended hand. Her wedding band glinted in the moonlight.
"You look so, so... amazing," he whispered, giving her a quick kiss on the lips and eyeing her - her white peasant blouse and wide, red pleated skirt swished as she giggled and winked at him.
"Well, only the best, for the best!" she cooed, tweaking Henry's cheek. How adorable he was when his face went all pink, like a cute little piggy! Linking her arm with his, she leaned against him, nuzzling his shoulder. "The lake looks sooooo beautiful in the moonlight," she sighed happily, as they passed the shimmering waters at the base of Echo Peak. A large ridge crested high behind the water, offering a fantastic look at the plains and the mountains beyond Echo Town.
It was where they had proposed, and where she had taken him for his first time.
A gentle fall breeze rustled the bushes and trees around them, their shadows dancing over the dark grass as they made their way to the peak. Moon-viewing, from the top of the world - a perfect night.
"But, first," Michelle purred, pulling him close as they reached the peak, "let's start this show off with a bang, hmm?"
Ever shy, ever gentle and sweet, Henry shot her an endearingly dopey grin. "Yeah... yeah, I think I could go for that."
As they leaned in to kiss, Michelle caught sight of a fast-moving shadow closing the distance to them - and before she could say anything to Henry, it happened.
"She - SHE'S MINE, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" the black-clad man roared, punching Henry in the back of the head. "MICHELLE! I WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE HER!"
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Michelle screamed, as a black-gloved hand clamped over Henry's mouth. His protests and exclamations were never any louder than muffled, the moonlight only flashing against the steel for a brief second before the knife was rammed straight into his heart.
His black sweater didn't seem to darken any further in the night, but Michelle soon noticed the red stains on his white slacks as he slumped to the ground, eyes wide in disbelief. Shrieking, she tackled the now-panting attacker, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she punched him in the face - over and over.
"YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HENRY!" she screamed hysterically. "YOU... YOU BASTARD! GIVE HIM BACK!!" Giving him a hard shove, the assailant tumbled off the peak of the mountain, screaming Michelle's name as he fell.
A sickening crunch later, all was silent and still in the cool November night.
As she fought to slow her heartbeat and her breathing, Michelle wiped her wet eyes, kneeling down next to Henry. He was pale, still, cold - she pressed two fingers against his clammy, blood-stained neck and gulped.
No pulse. He wasn't breathing. His eyes were staring blankly ahead, half-shut and glassy.
Looking around furtively for anyone who might be approaching, Michelle let out a loud, deep breath. Nobody was nearby - someone would've heard that commotion and come running by now, if they were. Even the older or slower residents would've shouted back concerns or reassurances that help was on the way.
Slumping in relief, Michelle allowed herself a small smile - this would be a lot easier than she'd thought.
Abandoning Henry's body for a moment, she turned and peered over the edge of Echo Peak. It was too dark to spot the corpse, but Rory was certainly dead by now - nothing could survive that sort of fall, not with the sound he'd made upon landing. Even more convenient - she hadn't exactly expected him to be smart enough to consider himself evidence. Just the perpetrator. Anything for his beautiful, magical idol. Ask, and her will be done. Lovely Assistant #1 had played his part with aplomb, and he had her approval.
Feeling a small twinge of disappointment, Michelle stood up, nudging Henry dismissively with her foot. She certainly couldn't have taken him abroad with her - he'd had this farm, this career, this... commitment. And while he'd certainly treated her as much like a queen as he could, royalty deserved a little more than some backwater town, didn't they? Plush beds, fine wine, the glitz and glamour that the countryside just couldn't replicate with its downscale imitations. And, while only a fool would blame her, her courtship and marriage had caused enough of a stir in the first place - a divorce? Why, that would open the floodgates to madness! No, sir.
On the other hand, the social graces afforded a grieving widow were much more convenient for her ideals - she could capture another man's heart and soul as quickly as she could seemingly produce a stunning bouquet from nowhere. With the meager luxuries and the healthy nest egg she'd secured during her time with Henry, she was in no rush - a vacation would truly be nice. All expenses paid by Lovely Assistant #2, lying at her feet in worship.
Majorca, perhaps? she mused as she sucked in a deep breath, turning to make her way back down to Echo Town. The walk was long, but she had to prepare - who knew who she could run into along the way?
"Oh, someone, HELP! Please, HELP US!" she sobbed all of a sudden, tearing off down the mountainside in her red flats. "PLEASE HELP US! Henry, he's been - oh, GOD, HELP...!"
Author's Notes: Brought to you by Sociopathy! Ask your doctor if Sociopathy is right for you! If they say "yes", run like hell, find a new doctor, and maybe alert the authorities.
So, in my usual habit of taking things to their logical extremes - well, is this REALLY much of a stretch for Michelle? Good god, just watch her heart events and proposal scenes. I suppose I may try writing her more sympathetically someday - after all, Yuri likes her, and Yuri's cool beans. Still, I haven't written anything in this vein in a while, so I decided to revisit that old stomping ground. Geez, people die a lot in my one-shots.
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