"I used to know a woman," he started, leaning towards the microphone with his weight placed on his elbows that rested atop the table. Every so often a flash would go off ー eager fans trying to capture his expression as his thoughts floated to the pinnacle of his inspiration; a muse like water that drowned him, left him breathless, and still he went back for more. "A woman more deadly than anyone with a gun."
Hands rose suddenly. An eager young woman in the front row with stars in her eyes gleamed with positive delight, her being enraptured in the words he spoke and the words in his book. "Is that who you decided to write about? Was she the insipration?" She asked, hanging off the edge of her seat. "Is that the 'Woman Made of Hell Fire'?" Such eagerness he had known before, a tempted innocence within her starry-like gaze... he's known that look before and now it does nothing for him. There was no spark; no challenge.
The room sat in silence as they awaited his answer and one could tell that yes... it was that woman he spoke of that inspired his words and caused his soul to shatter. He was sporting thick grey hair, salt and peppered from stress, not age. Wrinkles around his downturned, eyes spoke volumes of the nights spent squinting at a computer screen to ensure he captured her every detail truly. The dark circles under his eyes accompanied the wrinkles, accented softly by the thick, black framed glasses. His hands folded in front of him, knuckles burning white from the pressure he applied on them to try and stop the words from flowing out of him all at once.
That was the thing about this certain woman ー she made him speak from every edge of his being, opened him up carefully before putting him back together with all the gentleness in the world... and he was a book in front of her. He became a faucet, she was the knobs, and his words flowed from him uninterrupted when she was mentioned. Now, though, he had more strength to think out his very words before putting her image in vain. He didnt want his audience to think she was a woman of turmoil ー which she was. He painted a masterpiece of this woman and presented her to the world with intent to have them appreciate a woman who didnt need saving, who was strong on her own. To prove that not all women were meant to be coddled and put on a shelf. She was the epitome of what woman looked like when they were truly free.
"She was everything the world conspired against when you thought 'female'," he started, closing his eyes for a moment just to draw in a deep breath. Settle his nerves. "She wasnt meek. She wasnt small. She wasnt bred. She was born. She was loud. She was ouright. She was a star blazing through the world, setting norms on fire and hellbent on proving people wrong.
"When I first met her it was for a simple interview. I needed a woman's prespective on what woman in today's society felt they needed to understand. Granted, at the time I was in University, cursing my degree for forcing me to take a Women's Study class. But to this day I never regret going through with it. Otherwise... I would have never met her.
"I sat in her office, slouching, drumming my fingers on the chair, praying that time ticked by faster than the slug's pace it sas going at.
"Right on the dot, when her assistant said she'd be there, the door opened... and I'll tell you this: I felt her way before I saw her. Something about her energy and aura made me sit up straight and for once in my life I felt Death tickle the back of my neck. It wasn't until I saw her face that I understood why."
By that time the entire room had fallen silent, watching his face seem to light up when he spoke of this valiant figure who seemed to make his world turn.
"She was taller than most women I knew, but the heels she wore made her even taller. But the scary part about her... was her shadow. You know how people measure other people's shadows? You couldnt measure her shadow even if you wanted to. You couldnt see it. Not at first, anyway.
"Her shadow was like a lingering demon, perched on her shoulder that she controlled. And it purred for her willingly. It would stare at you and if you even seemed to move wrong it would flood the entire room, swallowing up evedything in it's path.
"Including you.
"And it cared less whether you begged and pleaded for it to stop ー to not swallow you. It enjoyed the chase and sooner or later you ended up one of it's victims anyway.
"This woman carried herself like she ruled the universe. And she did. She didnt need to announce herself ー you just made eye contact with her and you could feel yourself give in to her pull.
"She didnt even have to introduce herself. I was compelled by her energy alone to stand up and reach my hand out to her. Like a lady, she gracefully accepted my clumsy introduction... but when she shook my hand... the power behind that grip made me shudder and I felt my heart sink down into the pit of my stomach as if I was going down a 45-degree decline rollercoaster."
A laugh then ー a simple pause so he could remember the moment.
"Her voice, though. It was melodious and pleasing ー soft on the ears. God had never spent so much time hand-crafting a voice like hers. And she knew how to use it. The tone in which she spoke set the pace for the conversation. It was quick, yet subtle; she was on borrowed time and knew it, yet she made me feel like I had all the time in the world. I was rushed because I didnt want to waste her time.
"But God, you could spend an enternity just watching her sit in that oversized leather chair like it was her own personal throne.
"The thing about her was she didnt use clothing to accentuate her bodily features. Oh no, her attitude spoke louder than that. She was conservative in the way she dressed ー a simple button down white shirt, and a black skirt that barely hugged the figure it fit around. She was a woman with all the class in the world and she knew how to leave everything up to the imagination. On one hand she wore just a ring ー nothing more, nothing less. She wasnt washed out in jewelry to make a statement. In fact, she didnt need jewels to accentuate her shine. Why?
"Because she was the jewel."
The girl in the front sat back in her chair, the stars in her eyes written with black ink, shimmering wildly even amongst the enthralled expressions in the crowd.
"She shined brighter than any diamond I had ever laid eyes on. Hell, the sun couldnt even compare.
"Anyway, this woman walked on air. Every little move she made seemed calculated and pointed... deliberate. From the quiet ferocity of her handshake to her simply sitting in that chair and crossing her legs..."
A lag in his dialouge. Those slim legs the object of his hormone addled brain's fantasies for a very, very long time. But those legs came second in comparison to the spirit in her voice.
"I asked her one simple question and I was greeted with the most insidious smirk known to man. And she responded with an equally diabolical question of her own."
His unspoken words: "It was then I knew I was hooked."
"First things first, young man... A woman made of Hell Fire creates her own kingdom. If you really want to know the answer to that question, get comfortable ー there's a lot to be said about a woman once she's really free. Are you ready for that?"
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