Consensus - Prologue

Here's the opening to the new little-sister-esque story that will span 30 whole parts! I'll try to get these out once a week. Also, the next chapter of Superior will drop soon ;]

Howard Grove was a mean old man. Everyone knew it, and if someone didn’t, just spending a few seconds with the guy changed their minds immediately. “Rude,” “uncaring,” “inhumane;” these were phrases that could have been used to describe Mr. Grove, yet only a horrifying amalgamation of all three of those words could only begin to describe the true extent of his awfulness.

Worst of all, while his disdain was not limited to one gender most of the time, women in his life got it the worst. The rumor that he had been divorced five times over sounded legitimate, but people quickly realized that would imply he actually somehow got married to a woman without gouging her eyes out. The word “trollop” has returned from the grave just so that Howard could have it consume fifty percent of his lexicon.

His daily routine was very precise, everything done exactly down to the second. It wasn’t long before the whole neighborhood knew every step of his ritualistic day-to-day life. He’d wake up, only to immediately harass his mailwoman for whatever perceived slight he could possibly think of.

After having his morning breakfast, he’d leave the house, mocking the next-door neighbor if he could. She tried her best to accommodate around his slow walk to work, but she couldn’t be assed to add some random, mean old man to her already busy schedule. Being easily fatigued and requiring a wheelchair to get around didn’t help her much, she’d try to not be seen in it, as that rolling chair would often be the primary target of his ridicule.

Even though he didn’t need to talk to the lady at the ticket booth—the process was almost fully automated nowadays—he did anyway. He lambasted her for her poor choices in life, as if every single decision she had ever made in her 43 years of living somehow led her to this job she was doing just to get by in an uncaring world. She didn’t ask for his constant advice about stock trading and she was upset that management hadn’t gotten back to her email about lining her parking booth with some thicker glass.

The work day was just beginning and already three women had suffered his unquenchable wrath. But his anger was just beginning—his sights were instantly set on the lady who was the latest janitor. Five different cleaners had dealt with him prior, but this had been the first female one. He had yelled at her for cleaning his cubicle too early in the day, complaining that he could still smell the bleach fumes, only for him to complain the very next day that she hadn’t even cleaned his stall at all when in fact she had cleaned his the very first, accommodating only for him to not even notice.

But at least the janitor didn’t have to deal with his antics nine to five, as his coworkers often had to. Two female coworkers in particular found the brunt of his torment quite severe, as they were literally two identical twins that Howard had no clue were different people. At first, it was quite amusing to toy with the stupid bastard, but even after admitting it to his face that there were two of them he still would mistake one for the other when they weren’t right next to each other, then proceed to get angry when the second twin had no recollection of what he had told the first twin prior. These inaccuracies would continue to occur long after the twins agreed that differentiating their clothing and hairstyles was a compromise they’d have to make.

With another agonizing eight hours of working with Howard completed, he was off to return home to his lonely house. Another day completed, same as always.

Yet, something was different. Something broke the mold that he had so firmly wedged himself within, layers of hardened crust reinforcing his hold, all undone in an instant. What should have been a simple walk to his car shattered any sense of time and reason as he spotted quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Even the damp darkness of the parking garage didn’t detract from the perfection that was her body. She almost seemed to produce a bioluminescent glow of her own, a beauty that was truly radiant in every sense of the word. A shimmering mane glistened heavenly, more golden than fort knox. A tiny hand absent-mindedly brushed a strand of it from her face, Howard’s eyes following her fingers until they finally returned to their resting position. Now in the depths of her waist, his sightline drank in her supple thighs and tantalizing midriff, revealing only just enough to leave Howard begging to see more, his imagination running wild like a pack of staved wolves.

Her gravity-defying curves somehow also supported absolutely titanic breasts, D cups? E cups? Howard didn’t know, his tiny worldview living in the shadow of the two mountains on her chest. They filled her low-cut shirt to the brim, overflowing from the top ever so slightly.

His eyes finally found hers once more, after being dropped to the wayside of her thighs and slowly climbing their way back up her body, his reward was a curt nod of acknowledgement, one that sent his mind figuratively spiraling.

And then, they crossed paths. She shoulder-checked him, throwing him off-balance and sending him literally spiraling. Because Howard had been so distracted by her beauty, his posture had waned ever so slightly. It was totally his fault that the two had bumped arms, but even if he knew that, he would never admit it.

Regaining his composure, he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Watch where you’re going, trollop! This briefcase contains very sensitive documents, not like your bimbo brain could even read them!”

He resumed his trek towards his car, only to hear the rhythmic clacking of the mystery woman’s high heels cease. Howard turned his head to witness the opposing woman’s eyes already staring daggers at him. She said nothing, merely allowing her hauntingly hazel pupils to do all the talking.

Irregardless, Howard continued with his spiel: “Don’t you stare at me like that, harlot! Do you know who I am? Or are you still struggling to process my last statement?”

She continued to wordlessly gaze into his soul.

“I’ll have you know, bitch, my lawyer could have your ass served on a dinner pl—”

“Your lexicon is quite full of hateful words, is it not? Mostly ones directed towards those of the female gender, am I correct?” Her powerful words commanded his attention, all background noise suddenly silencing itself in her presence.

Now Howard was the speechless one. All of his words were caught in his throat like a traffic jam turning into a 32-car pileup, giblets of car parts managing to escape the mayhem only manifesting as pathetic sputtering that barely registered beyond a low hum.

“Then I am correct. Good.”

Her heady voice only choked him up further with each sensual octave it dropped.

“Listen up and listen well. You will be cursed for your slander against womanhood. It will be subtle at first, but if you cease your ways, subtle is all it will be. Continue down this path, and devastation will be all that awaits you. It has already happened, make your choice.”

With that, she continued along her merry way. Her hypnotic hip sway leaving him with a nice epilogue to their encounter. At this point, Howard had chalked up her words to the insane ramblings of a crazy bitch. He had forgotten half of what she had told him already.

Shrugging off the strange break in formula, he returned to his car, ready to continue his life of solitude. As he passed the toll booth, he handed his day pass with the required stickers to the toll lady so that she could scan it and let him by. She didn’t even look him in the eyes—it was the last thing she wanted to do—and yet, he still had to speak.

“Listen here, lady. I don’t want any trouble. Just a few minutes ago some whore chewed me out because she bumped into me.”

The toll lady just rolled her eyes in response—a response which Howard unfortunately caught a glimpse of.

“Oh, so you’re just gonna dismiss me like that? Great. Some real friendly service they’ve got in this building. Next time, that’ll be a fireable offense! I'll make sure of that, bitch!”

She grunted through the verbal abuse, gritting her teeth as she quelled her anger towards this pathetic shell of a man.

He drove off, almost clipping the traffic gate as he did so. The toll lady slammed the cash register shut with a punch, only to be left amazed as she noticed four little indents on the metal, all imprints of each individual knuckle on her left hand.

The confusion was short-lived, replaced with a sense of… euphoria? That was the only way she could describe it. It was as if she were laying down in bed at home, finally free from the stress of her minimum-wage job and ailments that came with it. She couldn’t explain why, but after Howard had demeaned her, she had felt better than ever.

If this delightful feeling kept up, maybe she’d have enough energy to devise a brilliant comeback to Howard’s bullshit tomorrow morning.

As Howard arrived home, he had all but forgotten about his encounter with that mystery woman. But as he’d soon find out, he’d wish he never had.