“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into” her father said when she received her confirmation letter from CES Consulting, one of the world’s most renowned private consultancy firms in the vast and rapidly expanding field of banking.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I am quite well aware of where I applied for a job” she said.

Mr. Jacques shrugged in response, giving her the typical ‘don’t tell me I didn’t warn you’ expression. She smiled knowingly, very well aware of his concerns regarding her new job. She was entering the mean corporate world. Young and inexperienced as she was, her intellect and highly logical mind made her competent enough to make herself a big name in this presently male-dominated profession. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, and she knew that. But she had all that was needed to do the necessary deeds in order to reach the top, leaving all the men and their egoistic heads somewhere way down below where they were free to rot to death, after all they were soon going to wish that they were dead.

The next morning, she woke up with a smile, a cunning smile. Soon was going to begin a new era in the world of banking. She was going to make it happen. Keeping her target focused in her mind, she got up and began her day. Simple and classy as she was, she put on a knee-length black skirt, a crisp white shirt to go with it and a pair of well-polished black formal shoes. Tying her hair back into a neat and tight bun, she gulped down a quick breakfast and drove to her new office.

Getting a valet to park her sedan in the shade, she stepped out of the car and made her way into the squirming crowd of high-headed males. She curbed a smirk as she felt everyone’s eyes turn to her, as she went straight towards the clerks who were seated in a far corner of the marble-floored hall.

“Dominique Jacques?” one of the clerks asked when she approached him for direction, eyeing her carefully, taking in every detail that there was at first glance.

“My face is up here, and you shall always address me as Ms. Dominique” she snapped and she sensed a slight tremble pass through him, as he bowed down in respect, muttering a close to inaudible apology and led her straight to her cabin. Pleased with the first impression she had made, she seated herself comfortably, when she noticed a letter waiting for her on her desk. There was to be a meeting in an hour to welcome her and introduce her to her colleagues. She took a deep breath and calmed herself down, as she felt her pulse beat rapidly for a moment. This is what she had prepared for. This was her dream, her sole purpose in life. This was what the men deserved, and she would make sure they got it.

She reached her boss’s office sharp on time for the meeting. Most men didn’t even have the courtesy to at least show some decency for the first time. There they stood leaning against the wall, with their shirts unbuttoned at the top, their blazers hanging on their forearms, and their uncouth eyes darting about crudely. This sight didn’t disturb her one bit. She had been expecting this ever since she made the decision of working here. She was pleased to find that her boss, Mr. Fredrick Jean was also one of these impolite men, and that was going to make things easier for her.

A brief introduction took place, and she could bet that she heard a hoot and a whistle when she stood up to greet everyone. All the men introduced themselves too. The first few were bold, but her stare was cold enough to evoke a certain sense of diffidence in them, the others muttered their names quickly in order to end the discomforting session soon. In that one meeting she had the rest of her plan all figured out. She could easily identify which man was to be used for what purpose, and how she was going to take her first step. She had victimised three men, one was working at the same level as hers and was her only competition, one was her department head, and one was her boss himself.

During the lunch break that day she made her first move. In the cabin next to hers sat a certain Mr. Peter Houten who happened to be working on a certain task that he was due to submit in a week. She found out sufficient details about the task, and then approached Mr. Fredrick and asked whether she could do the same task separately too. Pleased to see her keen interest, he agreed. Things were too simple for her now. She produced a legitimate piece of work in two days time. And on the day of submission, she found a way to get certain pieces of her work in Peter’s. Once those documents reached her boss, she blamed Peter for intellectual theft at such a professional level of consultancy, and got him fired, out of her way. He got kicked out of the office to which he had contributed eleven long years of his life. He had a major share in getting the company to this level. And what did he get for that? A good kick out of the building, he was left on the road with nothing to his name other than a sign that clearly read ‘fraud’.

One out, two more to go.

In two weeks time she got her second chance. Her boss held a short meeting to ask for someone’s assistance that Mr. James Lancaster required for the project he was working on. This was her chance. She offered to help, and worked with him overtime till around one am. They walked out together and were about to head their own separate ways, when suddenly he did what she was hoping he would.

“Can I interest you in some coffee?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with a certain hunger. She knew where this was headed, and as unpleasant as it was, she knew she had to do it.

The next morning she presented her boss with adequate proof, accusing James of sexual abuse, making sure that he was out of her way. She made a convincing case. He was left shattered, jobless with a reputation that made certain that he would remain unemployed for the years to come, and with a divorce coming up for him soon. He lost his job, his entire career in fact, his wife, his children, his house, and all that he valued. He was left with nothing but a pathetic excuse to plead not guilty. He was done for good.

Two out, one more to go.

Her boss, her final victim. The last person that she had to take down before this entire branch was hers. And then soon, as time goes by, chances are the company would end up hers too. It wasn’t easy but she managed it with commendable efficiency. Playing a few cards at appropriate times, she filed a complaint to the region head of the company regarding how her boss was involved in bribery. Corruption wasn’t acceptable. Not in banking consultancy. For that matter, it wasn’t acceptable anywhere. Fredrick was out of her way too. He had no family, he had left them a few years back in order to pursue his dream of heading this company one day. He had devoted himself to his work, and what he received in return was a few years in prison with nothing and no one to fall back on.

Naturally, Dominique was recognised for her dedicated work in the company and officially got appointed as branch head after five days. That night she slept peacefully. Her mind at ease, her soul satisfied with her work, yet her hunger for power raged on. She wanted more, much more.

“It’s happening” she whispered softly, her voice a mask for the secret she hid deep within her fragile self. She felt herself go weak at its sight and she collapsed onto the autumn forest floor. Gripping onto the tree beside her, she gasped for breath as her eyes sunk back deep into their sockets, her pupils went haywire and a dizzy sensation filled her. Her hand flew to her throat as she clutched onto herself firmly and choked herself till she was numb. Her insides fired up and her skin burned, glowing red hot as it radiated heat, thawing her immediate surroundings.

It was here. Each of its stealthy moves unrestrained yet gradual, it approached the hills in a sinister way. It forced its way down, breaking through the clouds which lay so snugly above. It crept down, sneaking past thick densities of coniferous ferns. The first few metres were passed by unhurriedly. It moved down cautiously like a predator eyeing its prey, and taking careful steps to prevent its presence from being known. And then it charged down as if nothing was blocking its way.

And at last the mist settled in slowly on the cool blue lake. It cloaked the lake entirely, leaving behind faded reflections of what lay around. A gust of wind hushed by, forcing the clouds ahead. They drifted further away reluctantly, and streaks of golden sunlight pierced through the misty depth, making the lake sparkle with delight.

Her vision blurred and a sudden jolt of electricity raced through her viciously. A string of memories flashed through her mind as her limbs shook wildly, hitting against each other and bruising themselves from the rough path on which she lay. She stared above blankly and her hands spread out wide, open towards the sky, as if they were pleading, begging, yearning. The mist was a sign for her. A sign which had always been there. A sign signifying an event of destruction, an event of violence. A sign that made no appearance for long periods of time, but when it did grace her with its presence, hell broke loose. The mist was back. Here it was again.

She got up and tried to find her way through. The path ahead led her straight out of this place, and so she turned around and went the other way. She had to find him. She knew he was around here somewhere, she could sense it. And she knew he was close by because she could hear his thoughts. He was scared, and so was she. They were lost, afraid and insecure. She heard a loud thud behind her, and the sight that met her broke her at once. Her hands trembled, her feet seized, and she fell on her face. She dragged herself forward, grabbing hold of the earth and pushing it back as she hauled ahead.

Her hand reached for his neck, and felt a dying pulse. It grew softer and slower by the second. Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her frozen cheeks. Severed in many parts, and with his lips cut open, he tried to speak but couldn’t. He had bled too much, and all of the blood had frozen in on him. He spat out a lump of blood, and stammered weakly.

‘The mist?’ he asked in his thoughts, and she nodded in response. His pulse was now down to two or three a minute. These were her last moments with him.

“He did this to me. He’s here. Run!” were his last words as she felt his soul depart.

See, here’s the thing. I don’t like people. Never liked them, and never will like them. That probably explains why I live in a quiet place, almost fifteen kilometres away from civilisation. A place where people are hardly around, and Nature dominates the area, much to my satisfaction. A place where no one expects me to socialise, where the only conversations I need to have are with my parents, or maybe with myself at times, where I can peacefully reside in my solitary world of comfort and total bliss. I had what one would call an ideal life for a budding introvert like me.

And then, on what I thought was a fine winter’s day, ‘neighbours’ happened. It was a new concept to me of having another family of people living unnaturally and disturbingly close to my own home. I peeped out of the window, something that I don’t usually do, to catch a glimpse of the new ones. Just because I’m asocial doesn’t mean I can’t be curious about this new and undoubtedly unwanted addition of people to my life! Not that it would make a significant difference to me as a person, but my state of living would alter thanks to the ‘good neighbour status’ that my parents would expect me to create and maintain. I saw them unload from the car. Surely a troublesome lot I would say based on first impressions. Over-friendly mother (a perfect match for mine), drunk father, a son of about my age who had more metal on him than skin, a daughter who still sucked onto her thumb, and a senseless rodent pet trapped in a cage. How typical!

I yawned and stumbled downstairs lazily and walked right into my mother who was standing at the foot of the staircase waiting for me eagerly. Experience tells me that this never ends well. The wicked shine in her eyes revealed the evil plan she had in mind.

“Not happening mum. No way! Don’t even think about it” I muttered. She ignored me conveniently and pulled me into the kitchen to give me one of her talks. Here I realised the advantage of actually speaking out loud and throwing tantrums at times. Just because I never said much, I wasn’t taken seriously. On the other hand, my three younger siblings who yelled excitedly most of the time, were excused from such inhuman tasks. My mother’s command pierced my heart instantly, each word striking me hard. She wanted me to go meet the new ones living across. She wanted me to go and initiate a conversation which was no doubt intended on starting a new relation. Seriously? Out of all of the six people living here, she thought of me? And that too for socialising? Simply ridiculous!

An encounter with humans, let alone humans that I don’t even know, was certainly not something that I, as a cynical soul, would take pleasure in. My mother was basically shoving me into a deep pit of awkward moments. Actually, let me put it this way, she was shoving the new people across into a deep pit of awkward moments. Her pure intentions of making this new lot of strange people feel comfortable was being led to booming failure by the medium she chose to implement her intentions – me.

‘Why do they have to exist?’ I thought as I reluctantly went over to their place and knocked lightly on the door. The metallic son answered. I quickly recalled how to give a warm smile, and gave it my best shot. And somewhere in between all the piercings on his face, peeked an equally enthusiastic smile. The usual introduction took place, and I offered my mum’s help in case they needed it. Glad that I could get through that much, I looked at him, waiting for him to take the conversation further.

“What do you want?” he asked.

Shocked, I chose to overlook his outrageous head of arrogance and fumbled around, trying to find something else to say.

“Nice garden” I remarked, looking at the barren piece of thirst-driven land surrounding their pathetic excuse for a house, bearing not even a single weed.

He raised an eyebrow, frowned at me questioningly and breathed sharply. I stared straight into his mean eyes, dwelling deep into perhaps what was his soul or the void absence of it, and walked away pouting to myself. So much for being a good neighbour.

I reached home to find exactly what I was expecting. There was my mother, with her laptop firmly in her prying grasp, her nose almost touching the screen and her eyes darting about from line to line eagerly. She raised a finger when she realised my presence, which was a signal for me to remain hushed for a while.

“She’s such a…” and she trailed off, not saying more. I knew at once what she was doing. She had begun her thesis on our new neighbours. She had their entire family history googled and registered in her mind, and following that was a chain of judgemental thoughts.

“I want to have nothing more than a general polite relationship with them” she declared. I smiled, pleased with my mother’s decision, went back to my room, and continued with my perfect life.