Pleasurable Venom

Reveiw Please! I love any thoughts and comments.

Chapter 04: Coffins and Questions

I stare at the half of the treat still in my hand. My gaze focused and intent. I love it. I do, but I am full. My stomach sits in my body, threatening to explode with the amount of food it received. I frown again and debate what to do. I can't put it back in the jar. I gently set it onto a small free space on the desk and begin looking around again. My stance is less tense than before, simply because I now know I am welcome to look around. Most of the floor is cluttered with large boxes and stack of random books. My feet brush into more than enough cobwebs on my little inspection of the store.

I thoroughly examine some bottles and place them back on the shelf, making sure to place them in the exact place I found them. The sluggish liquid in most of them peaks my interest but I set them down and open a few books for examination. Clouds of dust raise from the pages as I read and flip through them. Some topics I have no interest for but others I find fascinating and wonder whether or not I should ask to read one. In minutes, I have collected and stacked a small pile of interesting reads on top of the black box I was previously sitting on. I nibble on the half eaten treat but not much and settle down in a musty, dust covered, chair with a large volume regarding Cotard's syndrome. A mental disorder that cause a person to believe themselves to be dead. It spreads a grin on my lips as I read about it and learn about it.

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Fifteen minutes had past in silence except for the occasional shuffle or turn of a page. The woman was so engrossed in her reading she didn't notice the shop owner enter the room after he had finished his work. The man took a glance at the woman sitting with a straight back on one of the many chairs scattered by the front desk. He took the moment to observe her. She was strange indeed. Not only had she walked into his shop without a second thought but she acted quite animalistic towards his coffin. She had next to nothing covering her frail body and her pale skin was spotted with a few patches of scales. Not that the scales mattered but it wasn't an everyday thing and he had never seen someone so interesting before. If anything the scales added to her beauty.

She had her legs tucked under her and a book she no doubt found about his shop, in her lap. One of her hands had a biscuit in it. The sight made him smile. He didn't want to come off as creepy but this woman didn't seem to mind anything. Her eyes, slitted, scanned the page and moved over to the next while he watched her. He set down a beaker of tea on a table next to her and that seemed to startled her out of her reading.

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...is a relatively rare condition that was first described by Dr. Jules Cotard in 1882. Cotard's syndrome comprises any one of a series of delusions that range from a belief that one has lost organs, blood, or body parts to insisting that-

The sudden clank of glass jerks my focus off my reading and up to the man from earlier. My mind calms once I know it's him and the clank was a glass beaker. I shut the book ad set it down on the table then refocus on the man. He sits on a box across from me with a strange smile and sips from a beaker exactly like mine. I pick it up and hum at the warmth of the drink. Tea, he said it was. I sniff it once then once more before tentatively raising it to my lips and taking a small sip. The hot liquid seeps down my throat and warms my body. I am grateful for it.

"Thank you." I say towards him and his grin grows. "You are very welcome, my dear. I have finished my work and personally like tea after a long day and it wouldn't very well do if I only made some for myself when a guest is over, wouldn't you agree?" I smile slightly and nod. "I suppose it would be rude but I am already thankful for the kindness you have showed already." I agree but disagree at the same time. He giggles a little bit and I take another drink.

"W-..." I blush faintly and lower my head to hide it. "What is your name?" I ask. "If I may ask." I quickly blurt it onto the end. "I am currently called Undertaker, and I think it is only fair you tell me yours now." I giggle, the twinkle like sound new to me. "It's Helain." I say in a whisper. After a moment of silence I steal a glance up and blush. He is leaning on one hand and looking intently at me, like I am a piece of art. I sharply look back down into my tea. I am used to being stared at.

"I am happy to know, Miss Helain. I hope I didn't disrupt your reading." A shuffle of clothing and he leans back. I shake my head quickly. "No, no, of course not. It is your book after all. Plus I was getting tired as it was. Today has been very eventful and I haven't gotten as much sleep as I usually do." The words flow easily like I have known this man for years. It is comfortable and relaxed.

He taps a long black finger nail to his lip and hmms. I watch him, content with waiting for what he is going to say. "Well, that is right but you can have it if you want. I obviously have no use for it and I am sure you will enjoy it more then I." I can't help but startle up. My mind overjoyed and my face producing a happy smile, "Really?" I ask not sure what to make of the kind offer. He nods his head and I hug the collection of words on paper to my chest. "Thank you so much." I thank him in earnest and make sure to give him a bright smile, flashing my teeth.

He is thrown into yet another round of ground shaking laughter, this time i add a few giggles of my own. AS he laughs and calms down, my eyes wander back into the world of medical science and again I find myself lost in my book.

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"So what made a lady like yourself wander into a store like this? I mean it isn't what people would call the happiest place." The undertaker asked the question dancing around his head. Perhaps she was in trouble and ran into here to get away from someone. That would explain the tattered cloth around her body, but she didn't seem to be injured. It teased him, thoughts after thought about the possible reasons the woman could have chosen his shop. It was nestled in between two much larger buildings and not exactly on the best side of town. He made sure to be ready for anything, he had learned to expect the unexpected in his long lifetime.

He pretended to be interested in the bookshelf in front of him and was extra careful not to let the woman, Helain, feel pressured. The best answers always come from someone who feels comfortable answering. There is where my last pair of silver handled scissors went...he mused to himself when he spotted the gleaming metal in between a set of filled beakers.

Behind him Helain paused her reading and closed the book, making sure to mark the page by folding the corner. She carefully set the book down on the table next to her and focused her attention on the mortician busy picking up items from the mess of shelfs to the left of her. She looked up to the ceiling, tracing the patterns with her eyes while thinking about it. What made me want to come here? She didn't really know. Curiosity she supposed but then she also was in need of food and clothing. She cleared her throat, the spit sliding heavily down her throat.

"The box." That was her answer. Surprised, Undertaker turned and looked at her. "Box?" He asked to clarify. She nodded and he put his nail to his lip in habit. Before he could ask another question she spoke up. "The one that is about my size and sitting in front of your store." She added and he chuckled for the upteenth time that day. "The coffin you mean, my dear?" Her brows furrowed above her nose in confusion and she tilted her head, several white strands of hair slipping out from in her braid and into her vision. She tucked the hairs behind her ear and nodded slowly. "Is that what those are called?" She asked pointing a sharpened nail towards one of the black coffins resting on the floor of his shop. The undertaker laughed again and nodded. "Yes, that is what they are called." He confirmed. He watched as the wheels in her mind turned and then as her eyes sparked when they finally clicked in place. "Then yes, the one out front caught my attention, it needs to be repainted." A serious expression crossed her face, her lips pulling into a thoughtful line and her pointed canine teeth worrying her bottom lip. He grinned as an idea invaded his thoughts.

"Why don't you paint it then, I could use the help." He said, knowing the question could come off as an insult. If she was a proper lady the thought would repel her and she would be offended. However if she was part of the lower class of Britain, she may consider it. So he decided to gamble with bets on the latter.

She looked back up to the ceiling, and smiled. "Yes, I will help you." She made up her mind with determination in her voice.