Day 6: The Lost Key

Nightmare / Locked

“...Not guilty.”
BANG!

Oh, that gavel strike… Sweet sweet music to my ears. I grinned. I always grinned. But this time my grin sharpened into what was undoubtedly my true predatory smirk.
“You did it Vanessa!” My client stood up from his seat, but not before me.
He reached for my hand. I took it. Yeah, I was on top of the world. Didn’t mean I could forget to be mindful. You know how frail humans are? I shook his hand, but kept it gentle. Gentle but firm.
“But of course." I said with a laugh, "Didn’t I tell you, it was a shoe-in! Fred, you did nothing wrong! Leave it to me and you there’s not gonna be anything to worry about. Just like I said!”

He gave me a smile of pure gratitude. His eyes welled in tears and everything. Our handshake turned into a hug. A brief hug, but one which followed the protocol to a T.
My body pressed lightly against his. But not all of it, and only the exact spot on my torso where it was appropriate made contact. The golden ratio applies here.
Patted him on the back, then sent him on his way.
Off he went. On his own. Hopefully he’d last more than two minutes before waltzing headfirst into another catastrophe.

Boy, do I wish the trial had gone as smoothly as I made it out. Turned out to be one of those fringe cases. The ones where the trial could turn on a comma in the charter, or on one of the jurors putting their hat on too snugly that morning.
For crying out loud! The verdict had to be postponed two days since the jury couldn’t make up their minds!
But I fought tooth and nail for my client. Defended my case with luster and logic. The prosecutor kept me on my toes, but if that ignoramus thought I’d walk straight into any of his traps he was gravely mistaken.
So yeah, maybe it was only by a hair’s breadth, but dammit, I kept my eyes on the prize from day one. Thanks to that I could see my client walk out from there a free man.

It’s exactly for that kind of razor-sharp instincts that I’ve never lost a case in my whole career.
Now, just to qualify, not losing a case isn’t quite the same as winning. If you insist on counting it that way, it'd be closer to 26% . But what can you expect? That’s what happens if you keep seeking out the beaten and downtrodden clients with nowhere else to turn. The vagabonds. The single mothers. The foreigners and the Clarentians. They know squat about the courtroom. They climb every step of due process in an uphill battle against prejudice and contempt. And dammit, quite a few times they’re just plain guilty.
Does that mean all they can hope for is to be left to their fates? Not on my watch. When no one else is there to pick up the slack, Vanessa will be there as your final bulwark. And she’ll be with you to the bitter end. And though winning every single case might be a bit much to ask for, at least I’ve never lost a case before.

Now if you put a dagger to my throat and made me pick out one case that maybe possibly could be called a loss, it’d have to be my very first trial. I knew the guy was innocent. I argued his case fervently. But in the end, the jury did not favour him. It was a travesty, really. I told him I was ready to appeal the case. Take it all the way up to the Royal Court if we had to. But that guy passed. Told me he’d be best off with another attorney. After all, it kind of wasn’t a good look to be represented by a literal demon.
Well, couldn’t really argue with that. But it did kind of mean he had to serve his time, since, you know, no one else was there to pick up the slack.

Needless to say, that was the last time I practiced in Order territory. Really, what business did a mamono like me have around those parts anyhow?

So I tried my hand in Obrozig , a cozy Mamono Friendly polity by the north coast. And let me tell you, my fortune turned in a flash. And not just cause of the nice beaches. I knew I had what it took. The sharp wits. The zest. I was practically oozing with it. As long as I got a fair shot, the sky was the limit.
Great place to test my mettle, but it's not like I belonged there either, really. I had a knack for speaking out with a fire in my voice, as if whatever I said was my utmost conviction. That’s why I was needed, but I’ve got nowhere to be where I can just be me. Truth be told, I didn’t even know what ‘being me’ meant. Got around just well being whatever I needed to be at the time.
Ugh… I hated being out of court.

Once I got home, I tossed the papers for the trial on my desk, on the stack with all the other cases for that fortnight. Gotta deal with the paperwork some time. But not that night.
No… That night I couldn’t even bother to pick my own coat off the floor. It was the kind of night that wrote itself. First thing after feeding my parakeet, I plopped down on my armchair. Leaned back with my feet propped up on the desk crosslegged. Then, I’d pour up some medicine from my bottle of aqua vitae into my custom-made glass chalice. And let the hours pass by.

Any human who tried to live the way I did would age in dog years, but you wouldn’t know it from the way I looked. My hair remained long and soft, like a black cloud. I’ve never been afraid to leave the three top buttons of my waistcoat open to let the world enjoy my massive cleavage. Those thick thighs of mine could crush a pumpkin with ease. And men had gone to war over hips like those encased by my miniskirt.
That’s succubus energy for you. As long as it remained within me, it wouldn’t let my hourglass figure deteriorate beyond that ideal image of a sexy secretary with square-pane glasses. No matter what I poured into myself.

Couldn’t ask for a more appropriate metaphor. On the outside, I was that wise-cracking unstoppable shark of a lawyer. On the inside… Who knew? Probably nothing of value. Certainly nothing that’s worth exchanging for that hollow vessel that can be filled up with whatever’s needed at a moment’s notice.

I took odd sips from my glass throughout the evening, always with a smirk plastered over my face. Who cared if I didn’t have a starting point? Who cared if I didn’t have a goal to reach for? I lived for the moment. One day at a time. That’s more than what most people can ask for.
Just staying afloat was enough for the likes of me. Even if that was all I could do.
I looked at the clock on the desk next to my feet. Midnight already? Time sure flew when you’re in good company. I drank what remained in the bottle, then slumped back on my bed. Didn’t even bother to undress.

I wander through a disorienting haze. I’ve got no idea where I am. Only that I’m not supposed to be there. I look about in a fit of panic. There are people around. People everywhere. But nobody I know. Just other versions of myself. They stare back at me. Laughing. Sneering. No idea why. I ignore them. **** to get anywhere but there.
I breathe in. Some foul smell enters me through the air. It comes from further ahead. It’s rancid. Makes me nauseous. But I’ve got no idea where else to go.
The stink gets stronger as I follow it, until I come to a door. It’s just there, suspended in the haze. I wonder what’s on the other side. I get closer. Each step becomes heavier, as if some invisible **** in my mind is pulling me back. Maybe it’s the stench. It gets worse the closer I get.
I grip the handle. My heart stops for a moment, and I pull it down.
Locked.

That’s when I woke up.
…That dream again. Used to be I had nightmares like that all the time as a kid. I thought I outgrew them though. Just goes to show how much I had really grown throughout the years. I looked about my room. Same old room with the same old mess. Nothing had changed for the past thirteen years I had lived there. That morning, however, everything about it felt utterly alien.
Oh… It really was morning, wasn’t it? Crap. I had to get ready for the office.