Fitz felt the warmth of the spiced scented linens being wrapped around his body. The sharpness of the ceder and myhrr tickled his nose as he felt Heather lifting his head gently to unroll the thin fabric snugly around his neck. The young fox had needed this. One more session with Raymond would have just been his limit. He moaned softly, the toxins that were in the linen along with the spices started to seep into his skin. The heroin bled into his skin, taking away all worry and stress. It was like a flower made of bliss that opened and consumed him. He looked up into Heather the Undying's face, the possum looking back with her pale, milk-white eyes. Fitz could feel a cold caress as he looked into her cold, dead orbs. "Thanks for doing this, Heather. I need...mmmm..." the skunk drifted off as the chemicals went to work. She finished covering his head and ears, the only part not buried in the tainted linen was his muzzle which was held gently closed by a piece of tied red yarn in a loose bow. 

   She picked him off of the embalming table and placed his limb body into a cypress coffin that was carefully padded on the inside with goose down cushions. Placing a tender kiss on Fitz's nosetip, Heather closed the coffin so her charge could rest. With no light and no sound as the coffin was lined with a layer of soundproofing cork, she smoothed her black skirt and ruffled shirt before sitting down. Looking around the crypt heather took a deep breath, sighing happily as the energy she absorbed from Fitz settled within her form. Another year for her. She didn't feel guilty since Fitz had agreed to it. Instead of money time was her payment. As she sat in the wooden Victorian chair the possum admired her own little personal space within the Red Rose Brothel. Her cold smile widened as she felt the presence of one of the 'fetchers' as she called them, "Ah, I take it you have brought my tea?" 

   This was one of Vizaxyn's least favorite people to deal with. Heather was haughty, snobby, and creepy as fuck. The crow set the tea and saucer on the stone embalming table next to the possum. "Yup. Just as you instructed. Enjoy."

   Heather cleared her throat, "Manners, my dear avian," she instructed, "That's to be 'yes, ma'am'."

   Vizaxyn laughed, "I might be head of maintenence but I'm not your fucking maid! The only reason I got you your tea is because the other workers are too creeped out by you to do it. Next time I'll just forget to tell to clean your quarters for you."

   Heather snarled at the crow, "You're lucky you are Trina's favorite! Otherwise I would drink your life like a cheap wine until you were nothing but a husk of dried fresh and bone."

   Smiling as much as she could since she had a beak, the avian reached into the neck opening of her cover alls, pulling out a glowing blood red penticle charm on a black steel necklace, "Any time you want to bring it, hon. You're not the only one in this place that knows magic. I'm sure my infernal powers are just as strong as your Voudoun. After all, Trina taught me well when she raised me. Think about that the next time want to try to fuck with me!" Heather was repelled by the force and pressure that radiated from the magic of the necklace. Viaxyn narrowed her blue-eyes gaze at the undead possum before tucking the pentagram into her coveralls once more. 

   "You little bitch," Heather hissed.

   "Next time you order tea I'm going to spit in it," Vixazyn countered. Heather stood up from the chair and faced the bird. The heat began to drop as it was sucked from the room as dark magics slowly built between the two for a few more seconds before the radio in Vizaxyn's pocket crackled to life.

    "Vix," the voice of the Red Rose's security chief staticly announced, "We have an 'incident' here in Room 21. I need you to come up here as soon as possible."

    The crow quickly grabbed the radio from her pocket, "Alright, Brace. I'll be there in a few minutes. All on duty maintenence staff report to Room 21 via the hallways." A series of affirmatives answered back as Vizaxyn returned the radio. She let her magic fall as she turned around, knowing that Heather had too much honor to strike her in the back. 

    "This isn't over," Heather called to the retreating avian.

    "For your sake it better be," Vizaxyn retorted. 

    After the crow left the possum huffed, sitting back down to enjoy her tea. She had been a 'resident' at the brothel for almost twenty years. She even remembered when that black walking feather duster was but a weak little chick, barely ten years old. Sipping the tea, Heather closed her eyes. The flavor was almost orgasmic! No matter what she thought of Vizaxyn the bird did just about everything to perfection. 

    Closing her marble white eyes, she relaxed as she let her dark energy wander through the room. The crypt was a nice sized room decorated in faux stone. It had several shelfs set in the stone with one or two occupied with dead and wrapped bodies. The spiced and scented wrapping had kept the oder of rot down quite a bit. She sensed poor Fitz's slowed breathing. The 'mummification' would do it's job and remove the stress that he was dealing with. He would feel like a new skunk!

    She sipped a bit more on the tea when she saw a red flash of light blink on one of the walls. Smiling, Heather finished her tea, getting up to go to work. She went to the wall where a hidden telephone receiver was, picking it up to hear the Madam's instructions.

    "You have a client that wants to fuck a corpse," Trina informed her, "Sanita is finishing up so you can use her room. Oh, and act alive. He wants to kill you and -then- fuck you." 

    "Thank you, Ma'am," Heather answered, thinking that this guy must have paid a ton of money for that. Necrophiles were pretty common as far as fetishes went. She walked to the door of the crypt, pulling it open to reveal the west maintenence corridor. Room 9 was on this side of the building as was Room 21. She wondered what happened? Heather knew it was used by the new escort Blaine. She saw the gaggle of various furs gathered around the doorway to Room 21. She saw Sanita switching her tail happily from behind. Anytime there was something fatal in the brothel that psychotic squirrel had to get at least a gander at it. Heather caught a brief sight of Brace, the head of security leading Blaine in ziptie handcuffs from the room and towards the security office. Stepping through the panal door into Room 9 she smiled at the setting. It was decorated to look like an abandoned hopital room. The gurney was pushed into the right far corner and a dirty, bare mattress lay in the middle of the floor. Closing the hidden door behind her, the possum looked herself over. She hoped that her dress didn't get too dirty. Now that Vizaxyn was angry at her it would be difficult to get the staff under her charge to wash and clean in properly. Heather cursed her temper as the door on the opposite side of the room opened.

    A slash of light invaded the room as a rather handsome looking pine martin stepped into the room. He was dressed casually though a little bit of a stereotypical jazz club type of attire. Heather closed her eyes briefly, forcing magic to give her eyes a normal sky blue color. It was a bit of a parlor trick but kept the illusion of being 'alive' intact when she had a client like this. Most of the time she was in this room laid out on a morge slab like a dead fish to get fucked. It was kind of nice when she got to move around during a session. "Well hello," she started.

   The pine martin cut her off, "Shut up, bitch." Heather frowned at that but didn't say another word. She stood there as he approached, looking over her. As he stepped behind her, the possum looked straight ahead, hearing him take a sniff of her jet black hair. She shuddered a little at his closeness. She could literally feel the evil that lurked just under the surface of his soul as he suddenly looped the steel wire of the garrot tightly around her neck. The wire bit into her flesh, cutting off her air to strangle her. She struggled not for her life but for the preasure of the client. Coughing and choking, she was pulled tightly to his body. The nameless male hissed into her pale ear, "Choke you whore! Fucking die!" 

   She counted to thirty before relaxing in a slumped death-like state. He held her up by the garrot for another ten seconds before being satisfied she was dead. Her body was cast roughtly to the mattress, her head missing the padding and bouncing off the concrete floor. That irritated her but she didn't break her act. Heather felt her skirt being pushed up, revealing her grey furred thighs. Tugging roughly, the pine martin yanked her panties off of her legs, causing them to flop lifelessly to the floor. She heard him unzip his pants hurriedly then his body press against her backside. His entry into her cold corpse was not gentle. His thrusting was fast and hard. She really wasn't interested in his fucking. She wanted a little of his life essence. Remaining still, she waited for the rutting, grunting male to cum inside her. The bliss of orgasm hid the effects of one's life leaving their body. She wasn't going to take all of his essence, just a year or two. Maybe three because of his earlier rudeness. After about five minutes she got her chance. He came hard, spurting a large amount of cum into her cold pussy. Inwardly she grinned as his life force passed into hers. It was a pleasent and warm feeling. The client collapsed on top of her, panting as he tried to catch his breath. He wanted to do more but felt so damned drained! 

    "Cold ass bitch," he tiredly huffed. With shaky knees he pulled his pants back up. looking at the dead whore he thought of cutting something off of her for a keepsake. It had been the fifth bitch he had put on ice. Instead he took her panties and put them in his pocket. He wasn't worried about the cops. The cunt at the front counter said that they are tired of this one and needed her gone anyway. He had hoped so since he had dropped twenty-five grand to kill this whore off without worry. With a sniff, he got up and left. Sure, he had been there only twenty-three minutes but it ahd been worth every second. As the door closed Heather stretched and yawned. she was a bit pissed that he had made off with her panties but it could have been worse. 

    "Now, time to check on Fitz," she muttered to herself.

                                          the End