Warning: Again not much but the next chapter get ready for some gore my darlings.
Chapter 2
Blood stained sheets
In the shape of your heart,
This is where it starts.
This is where it will end.
The Elias-Clarke building was abuzz with the excitement and anticipation of the upcoming holiday. Models, scantily clad in sexed up Santa suits strutted through the corridors as if on a Victoria's Secret catwalk, making their distinctive clack, clack, clack, on the linoleum. Weaving in and around them were the ever pitied lowly assistants, clutching desperately to various items and rushing around like chickens with their heads cut off whilst their orders were being boomed from nearby offices.
There tucked away in a corner, unbeknown to all, except for perhaps an inquisitive British woman, a young brunette was the very definition of nervousness right now. With her mocha eyes continuously darting towards the entrance of the outer office, Andy only slowed them down long enough to glance at the computer screen, squinting against the artificial light they narrowed in on the time. Eight fifty-nine. Shit. Any moment, Miranda will come waltzing through that doorway and Andrea, much to her horror, did not have a clue as to what to expect. Teeth sunk painfully into a trembling bottom lip in a fruitless attempt to quell the butterflies now slamming into her gut.
She'd awakened this morning surprised that she'd even slept at all. The previous night, was for the lack of a better word terrifying, when she'd burst out of that house into the inky frigid darkness nothing seemed to go quickly enough; legs although, long and coltish simply would not pump hard enough and the people of New York whom normally sped around like scouting ants seemed to morph into snails. The subway was torturous, descending the tracks like a giant sluggish caterpillar it caused Andrea to unconsciously lean forward as if her one hundred and ten-pound frame would make a difference. She probably looked like a moron but at least it gives her a little comfort.
When she did manage to finally stumble home, there was Nate slouched on the couch with his arms crossed, chin jutting out, and huffing like a petulant child. He'd just turned his head and opened his mouth to no doubt whine about how horrible the two hours without her presence was when those puppy dog eyes caught sight of her frightened and shaky appearance.
And so the interrogation began.
In the beginning, Miranda, of course, was blamed with a roar of; what did that bitch do!? It was on the tip of her tongue, to just blurt out what happened and to just rip that jacket off and show him the forming bruises. But something unknown halted those words burning deep within the back of her throat. So she lied; weaving a dramatic elaborate tale about witnessing some horrific car crash. That tragically left a man's bloody mangled body just inches away from her feet. Christ, she was a bad liar but he seemed to buy it. Idiot. A mute was more efficient at sensing bullshit than Nate.
Something whooshed by her face snapping her out of the inner musings and a second later those butterflies from earlier morphed into bats as that all too familiar voice filled the room. "Call Calvin Klein, tell them to send over some suitable skirts this time also instead of red Christmas hats order the emerald ones with the rabbit fur trimming. A steak at twelve. Pick Patricia up from the veterinarian at one, make sure Christina clipped her nails this time. Get Donatella on the phone now."
Wide doe eyes blinked rapidly, clearing sight and mind, they raked over the woman from head to toe. Finely shaped eyebrows furrowed in confusion. This woman did not have the appearance of someone whom just mere hours before; stumbled through their home beyond intoxicated, puked their guts all over the kitchen floor, and assaulted her assistant. One of Andy's hands unconsciously caressed over the discolored skin hidden underneath a layer of clothing. She winced as a shock of pain throbbed from the area. Nope, that wasn't this woman at all.
This woman, however, was absolutely gorgeous. Her signature silvery white hair was shinning like freshly fallen snow. Her eyes, vibrant and electric blue not missing a single thing within their range. The ashen skin was now smooth, milky, and absolutely flawless. She was a Greek Goddess descended from Mt. Olympus itself coming to grace the mere mortals with her presence. A living breathing modern-day Athena. Mouth agape, Andy could only dumbly stare in awe. What. The. Hell? Did she have some miracle pill or something?
As soon as Miranda disappeared into her domain. Andrea heard her name hissed from across the room. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you? Get Donatella on the phone before she goes mental and slaughters us both." Despite being a the receiving end of a British woman's glare, Andy let out a sigh of relief this day was turning out better than she thought.
Not even five minutes later. "Andréa" rang through the inner office shattering the brunette opinion of the day instantly. Well, It was good while it lasted she sighed breezing into the office only to come to a complete standstill right in front of the cluttered desk awaiting her instructions.
Sliding the earpiece of her glasses over a moist bottom lip, Miranda seared a path slowly up then down Andy's form. She leaned forward, full breasts pressing against a constricting layer of ivory silk, seemingly begging Andy to just set them free. The older woman tilted her head and hummed. The brunette shivered resisting the overwhelming urge to look down at her own body just to see if she was naked. "Mir..That cashmere suits you Andréa."
"Th..Thank you" A moment of awkward silence and uncomfortable blushing later. "Uh, Was there...That's all."
Face flushed, chest slight heaving, Andy left Miranda's office debating on whether to just go bath or masturbate.
The rest of the week dragged onward rather pleasantly, despite Christmas being just around the corner. It was no busier than it normally was. Even Miranda seemed to be in good spirits. For that little holiday miracle, the Runway staff was eternally grateful to whatever deity there was above.
But like all good things, it was destined to come to an end.
It was Friday, the last day before the holiday break and the office was in a frenzy, crossing every metaphorical t dotting every i, everything had to be done right or else the wrath of La Priestly would rain down upon them. In the mist of the inner turmoil, Andy was busy wrapping up her own work when she heard the announcement of Miranda's arrival. Robotically, she stood like a soldier at attention and trained her eyes immediately upon the entrance.
Only to have her jaw drop a moment later at the unbelievable sight before them.
There trudging lethargically into the outer office with hunched shoulders and a slightly swaying form was Miranda. Her hair dull, greasy, like it had not been washed in weeks. Her eyes glazed and lifeless did not even acknowledge her assistants' presences instead they stared unblinkingly forward at something/nothing unknown. The exposed skin along her arms and face were a sickly grayish color giving the older woman an almost zombie-like appearance.
To be frank, she looked like shit and if the way she walked was any indication she probably felt like it too. No orders were given, no insults were spat, and the coat was kept on as she moved between the two desks to the inner office.
"Andréa" The voice usually smooth as silk sounded ruff almost weak. Filling a twinge of concern, Andy rushed into the office not knowing what to expect.
"Steak"
"But its onl-" She gave Andy a look that could peel paint. Nine O' clock in the morning, she mentally finished.
"Yes, Miranda"
Twenty minutes later, Andrea carefully placed an inch thick steak upon the older woman's desk. Hearing the slight thump, Miranda glanced up from a stack of papers, eyes immediately landing on the steak, her face scrunched in disdain. "What is that?"
Oh shit, she knew that expression, it was that 'you have severely disappointed me and you've better fix it before I fire you' look, bemused plump lips pulled down into a frown. "Umm, It's your steak." Miranda pursed her lips, waving a hand over the untouched plate. "Is Chanel doing a new leather line I don't know about? I always have a rare steak." Andy physically recoiled at the tone it wasn't a yell per say but it might as well have been. Eyes darted downward in a mixture of curiosity and nervousness, noting the pinkish flesh, eyebrows drew together. If that steak was any rarer it would be roaming around the office mooing nevertheless Andy decided the best thing to do was to apologize.
"I'm sor-"
"Save your apologies for someone who cares. You have exactly fifteen minutes to bring me back something eatable." Andy gave her a polite nod. "Yes, Miranda." She turned towards the exit but just as she was about to take a step that silken voice halted her. "Oh, and Andréa if you fail me do not bother coming back." Fighting back a groan, the brunette nodded once again. "Yes, Miranda." She walked out, plate in hand, determined to impress the older woman once more.
"Umm, she said it wasn't rare enough." The chef's face morphed into a curious expression, clearly, he was the lucky individual that was in charge of Miranda's daily steak. "But Madam if the steak was any rarer it would be raw." Exactly! She wanted to throw her hands in the air and scream in frustration. Instead, Andy merely sighed trying to stifle that Sachs ire that was rapidly ascending within her gut. "Just give me what she asked for."
His face twisted from curiosity to full-on annoyance. Oh, here we go, Andy inwardly groaned. "Fine!" Whipping his head towards the back, he all but screamed. "Michelle!" A minute later, the metal doors to the kitchen burst open revealing a young blonde woman. "Yes? Papa" He shoved the plate into her hands." Otez cela et de le remplacer par une crue d'un."
The girl's brows furrowed in confusion. "But Papa."
"Il suffit de faire ce qu'on vous dit!" He ordered, face flushed in aggravation and teeth clenched. Andy sifted uncomfortably, she'd always hated when people argued around her and 'Chef Ramsay' here was determined to have words with someone.
"Yes, Papa" She nodded animatedly, spinning around and bounding her way through the exit. Five minutes of awkward silence later she returned carrying a white bag. Snatching it away from the girl, he thrust the bag in Andy awaiting hands. "Voyons comment cette salope de glace qui aime"
Eyelids narrowed in suspicion. She did not have much knowledge of the French language but she had the strongest feeling that what he said was most likely not nice. Asshole. Turning in place, she glanced down at the delicate watch wrapped around her wrist. Shit, she was going to be late and like a bullet, she was out of the door.
When she finally made it back to Elias-Clarke, sweat was seeping from every pore of her body and her lungs felt like they were on fire. Next week gym or jogging was defiantly going to be added to her schedule.
Once she reached the kitchen area, shaking hands pulled out one of Miranda's 'special' plates from the cabinet and placed it on the counter. Snatching up the bag, she nearly tore it open, carefully lifting the styrofoam container from its confinement like it was the holy grail and with bated breath, she peered inside. "Oh, that son of a bitch!" Her face twisted in disgust, the steak was completely raw. Knowing full well that it was too late to take it back, she yanked open a drawer making sure to pick the longest fork in there. A moment later, she used the utensil to stab the bloody meat like it was still alive, picking it up at arm's length and she plopped it on the plate with a sickening splat.
For a moment, she just stared at it, watching in morbid fascination as blood seeped sluggishly around the meat onto to the pristine white plate. Eyelids blinked owlishly bringing back to the present. Shit. The time she'd forgotten about the time. Doing an almost dead-on impression of the white rabbit from Alice and Wonder Land she practically galloped through the corridors to the outer office. Only to come to a slow pace when she arrived at the entrance of Miranda's office, gently she placed the plate in front of Miranda then with perspiration pricking at now throbbing temples she awaited her execution.
Miranda glanced away from her work, eyes immediately narrowing upon the plate. Andy's breath hitched and her muscles strained.
The tip of a pink tongue peaked out licking slightly chapped lips and pupils dilated leaving only a sliver of blue left, the look reminded Andy of a starved animal that just caught sight of new prey. "That's all" Chocolate eyes widened in shock but full lips dared not open instead the brunette spun around and sped out of the room as fast as her feet would carry her, thanking the Lord she wasn't fired. It would not do to be without a job at this time of year. Surely Miranda wasn't going to consume a raw piece of meat. Was she?
Not even fifteen minutes later, she received an answer when Miranda summoned her back into the office to remove a now empty but bloody plate.
The odd day thankfully went by much quicker than expected and soon Andrea found herself on the subway bound home. Tiredly, she trudged into the apartment assuming she'd find Nate waiting for her once again, only to discover a scrap of paper on the refrigerator saying that he went with his boss, Micheal, to some Christmas party and to not wait up. She sighed knowing that this was some sort of pathetic revenge. Throwing the now crumpled paper in the trashed, there was only place that she wanted to be. Bed.
An icy wind rifled through brunette locks playfully prompting a delighted smile to form on full crimson lips, Andy giggled as she commenced frolicking like a little girl amongst the endless wildflowers that cloaked the meadow. She did not know where she was going nor did she care. She halted for a moment breathing in the crisp clean air, she took the time to admire the enormous picturesque mountains that towered in the background. It was so peaceful and beautiful, she sighed in contentment, never wanting to leave. "Andréa" the low monotone voice was carried along the never-ending wind, caressing her ears seductively causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. Huh? Who would know her name in the mountains? She darted her eyes to and fro, scanning around for the source. "Andréa" her name repeat and slowly she was being dragged away for the tranquil piece of paradise. No no no.
Andy rolled over, a sleepy moan sliding it's way through parched lips and eyelids fluttering open only to have a pair of eyes come into view just centimeters away from her face. "Ah!" Andy screamed, scrabbling backward until she was falling. A second later pain heated her bottom, groaning she poked her head up like a meerkat just to see if her cloudy eyes were playing tricks on her. No such luck. There towering above her bed in all her hauntingly beautiful glory was the Miranda Priestly.
Plump lips open and closed a few times but the words like her seemed too scared to move forward. "Miranda? what.." Crossing her arms and pursing her lips, Miranda rolled her eyes heavenward. "Really Andréa? Is this a theater? Are those dramatics really necessary?"
The sleep induced fog finally lifted, opening the floodgates to thousands of questions. "What? How? the hell did you get in here!?" A delicate hand gave a dismissive wave. "Come along Andréa, you and I have some rather important things to discuss." The woman strolled out of the bedroom without a glance backwards.
Hands flew in the air at the utter gall this woman possessed but despite the agitation and sheer terror coursing through her veins, Andrea obediently followed.
"Oh no, no, no we;" She gestured frantically back and forth between them. "have nothing to discuss." Miranda simply ignored her. "Sit. down." A hand gestured to the worn out plush couch occupying the middle of living room.
Andy straightened up, puffing out her chest, in a primal display of mock bravery. "Not until you tell me how you got in here!"
Miranda whipped her head around, fists clenching at her sides, she stared the girl down. Smoldering blue met mocha in a battle of wills until something flashed across the older woman's, something feral, evil, and it quite frankly sent chills up and down Andy's spine."Either sit down or I will make you." The demand was a deadly whisper that was full of dark promises and ice.
Swallowing painfully against the fear, Andy reluctantly obeyed, lowering herself on the far side of the couch she kept those unblinking brown eyes glued on the other woman. Oh, she had a bad feeling about this.
TBC...
AN: Apologies for the delay, my cousin visited with her two little boys(have you ever tried to write with a two and four-year-old running around? *shutters*) also this chapter, for some reason, gave me so much hell.
Translation for the French part: Take away this and replace it with a raw one. Just do as you're told! Let's see how that ice bitch likes that. At least that's what Google gave me, so if its wrong blame it.
