GENESIS -1- THE WORKING BEE

A short lesbian story of blood, obsession and rebirth.

The sound of the flight’s announcement bell rang above the seats as JetSTAR 205 prepared to take off. A nasal monotone voice was heard through the speakers.

“Attention passengers. We are about to embark on the flight CB-709 District 207, 5th Colony to Terminal Y Anchor situated in the main District of our 1st. The estimated time of arrival is 1 hour, 5 minutes. A reminder that the Capital Colony is a bordered city so it is required by the National Health Affairs to take vaccine shots an hour before arrival. Our flight attendants will now go through the aisle, ensuring all passengers comply to the NHA regulations before takeoff. Do not forget to fasten your seatbelts. And please, have a nice flight.”

Just like the announcer said, attendants went to work, administering vaccinations to each passenger. The attendant with name tag, Glore spent a bit too long at seat 4C, seemingly arguing with a passenger. This passenger hugged her baby stubbornly refusing to let her child be vacinnated as it was still a newborn.

The vaccine law had relaxed in other parts of the state since the spread of the Marks’ virus reached a stalemate. Vaccination was only mandatory across a handful of colonies now. Those within and visiting those colonies always had an expected resistance to this continued enforcement. After much coercing, the mother reluctantly allowed the shot. However, once the attendants were out of sight, she pulled out a bottled medicine, ékstasi, and fed a few drops to the newborn. With this new age of vaccines came a batch of underground anti-vaccines to counter it, catered for the section of the population that remained paranoid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to undergo mild turbulence. Please ensure your seat belt are fastened and you remained seated. Thank you.” The announcer’s voice droned out 30 minutes after take off. A beat later, the plane shuddered as it dove through dark thick clouds. It was past 9 so the sky was already pitch black.

A small choking sound suddenly emerged from the center of the plane, right aisle. The newborn was fidgeting, eye shut tightly, fists clinging on to its mother’s clothes. The mother cooed, offering a pacifying smile and rubbing soothing circles on its back. But it somehow made the newborn more agitated. It twitched and twitched and twitched till its mouth quivered and finally broke into a loud wail.

The mother flinched, jerking her hand from the child’s cheek. She looked at her scalding hand in shock. “How did you get so-”

SPLAT!

Silence.

Loud, deafening silence.

The type that comes before the storm.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The mother’s eyes bulged out of her sockets as she screamed so loud it seemed to overpower the turbulence and resonate into the plane’s core. “MY BABY! MY BABY! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BABY??!”

Surrounding passengers shot out of their seats, terrified and shocked, backing away in open disgust and wariness. Maybe some also screamed but you won’t hear it over the mother’s wails.

How could you? Her baby was now a scattered pulp of flesh, organs, blood and intestines.

Her child just exploded in her face.

The turbulence increased and the standing crowd grew more agitated, some started praying profusely, rubbing their hands together, begging, be it for forgiveness or mercy. Others rushed back to their seats, taking the oxygen masks, battling their own panic attacks. On hearing the chaos, the flight attendants rushed out and got to work, settling everyone back in place and reassuring the distressed crowd. The mother had long fainted by the time they got to her. The attendant who spoke to her last was given the task of cleaning up the mess left behind. Her hands trembled as she forced a calm facade moving the body parts to a container and scrubbing off the liquids splattered all over the floor and now empty chair .

“‘Scuse me ma’am.”

Glore looked up to see the 4D passenger. Her blonde hair was tied up with pink ribbons in two buns. Her cheekbones were lightly covered with silver spots that seemed to be beaty marks. They twinkled on her brown skin like stars. She wore a white tube top with a giant pink heart at the center. Her bubble pink skirt brushed just past the middle of her thighs to meet the ends of her striped white and pink socks. Attached to her neck by a thin stringed black choker was a tiny wooden cross only a shade lighter than her skin.

The outfit would’ve been quite cute if it weren'tfor the fact that half of it was marred with blood.

Glore paled. All the attendants were so busy containing the mess they didn’t even notice the person that sat right beside the deceased child. After the mother, this should be the next person to be wary of their emotional state!

The passenger spoke before Glore could give her the round of perfunctory apologies, promises and an offer to move to the CRC compartment to rest.

“Is everything okay?”

Of all things that happened in this flight, that question brought the greatest bafflement. How could this passenger be asking her that question. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

“Miss- Miss Glore.” The passenger shifted nervously as if distraught by the lack of response. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Was I rude? I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself did I? I was wrong. My name’s Bethany but please I need to be called Bee.” Bee leaned forward, whispering despondently. “Sorry, I must be a nuisance, right?. But it’s just that we’re over a thousand feet in the air. There’s no technical issue is there? Let’s land this plane in the right destination and the right time please? I- we can’t afford an emergence landing right now okay?” When the attendant still did not answer, she continued with an urgency. “You see, I’m really scared of heights. I am. But I’m so so so more terrified of being late. I can’t be late.”

There was an odd look in Bee’s eyes. Despite not understanding what it meant, the sheer intensity caused the attendant to subconsciously lean back

“Okay?”

The attendant nodded dully. “Okay.”

“Thing is,” Bee straightened, hand folded on her lap, back ramrod straight, a dazzling smile spread across her face. “Today’s a very special day.” Her body swayed lightly as if in tune with a song only she could hear. “Valentine’s Eve. I can’t be late. Honey’s waiting.” A giddy laugh bubbled out of her throat, eyes slightly glazed. “My honey’s waiting.”

---

The incident on the plane, if disclosed to the public without preparations would be quite a scandal and detrimental to the YTA logistics company. The first protective measure was having the passengers be transported to an unpopulated terminal straight from their descent so as to avoid interacting with anyone outside the circle of concern. A van was used to take the still unconscious mother straight to a private hospital for treatment. While waiting for their luggage, the passengers were given refreshments and promises of compensation.

Bee only had a handbag on her. She didn’t need to go inside to wait. She was free to go. She skipped down the bus, two steps at a time, starry eyed.

“Ah yes, this is the passenger. Please take care of her.”

The moment her platform shoes touched the ground, EMTs flanked her. Glore, the flight attendants explained the situation quickly.

“I think she’s in a state of delirium after the incident. After I reported, the Captain thought it was best to have her checked in a hospital for her safety.”

“Miss.” One of the paramedics ushered her to the back entrance of the stationed ambulance. “If you could please get in so we can check your vitals and make sure you’re okay.” Seeing the confusion on Bee’s face, he further explained. “It’s fine, the logistics company is covering hospital costs for this incident.”

“No. No.” Bee shook her head quickly. “I’m fine. Really. I’m the best! Very healthy. I don’t think I’ve ever been better.” The words caused a strong dissonance with the blood on the side of her face and the way her smile took up almost half her face. “But thank you for the concern. I’ll be going now. Have to make up for the delays!”

Another paramedic blocked her path with a knowing look. “It’s for your safety and others, Miss. Please follow us for a mandatory checkup.” The lady just witnessed a human detonation. Tiny splinters of flesh was still matted against her hair. Her mental instability was obvious and who knew what would happen if she was left alone to ride on this high? They couldn’t have another casualty from the flight just because they weren’t attentive.

Bee’s polite smile stiffened. “I don’t need a checkup. If it’s necessary, I’ll do it later. It’s a low priority so- let me go!” Two paramedics restricted her by her arms while the driver guided them into the van. She kicked and twisted in their grasp, shaking her head in panic, speaking with an increasing sense of urgency. “Let me go! Let me go! I need to see honey! Honey’s waiting for me! Let me go!”

Dorle looked apologetically at the frantic passenger before shutting the ambulance doors. The lady would thank them later when she calmed down.

In the moving ambulance however, Bee was quite far from thankful. She thrashed violently after being strapped down to the stretcher. Her pulse raced, irises darting in all directions. Her chest rose and fell in short huffs, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out and she could only rely on whatever was left within to breath. Thus, she made loud, aggravated wheezing sounds. Her buns had loosened and one of her socks got torn during the struggle. Her hands and shoulders jerked in 2 second spasms as if being shocked by an open wire.

“She might be having an anxiety attack.” The paramedic, a new hire, that just went through hell strapping Bee down spoke quickly, wiping his sweat stained brow. He rose to look out the window, hoping to get to the hospital soon.

“I’ll administer a light dose of T4. ” The other paramedic pulled out a syringe, drawing from a bottle of the newly government approved tranquilizer used for insomniacs. “It won’t knock her out but she should be relatively calm. Just long enough till we get her to a doctor. Miss please stay still, this will help you relax-”

There was a choked noise before a loud thud.

The new hire frowned, bringing his attention back to the interior of the van. “What was that-”

WHACK!

Another loud thud.

Then silence.

The once chaotic, noisy van space was now quiet save for heavy breathing from Bee.

Her left ankle and wrist were twisted at odd angles, a result of forced dislocation to free herself from the bonds. The paramedic twitched quietly on the floor beside her, syringe forgotten beside him as his hair soaked in the growing pool of blood that stained her white shoes. A thin cross shaped blade was lodged right above his collarbone, slicing straight through the carotid so the blood loss was accelerated.

Bee squatted and slowly pulled the blade out of his neck with her free hand.

‘Ugh…” The new hire on the other side stirred in pain, groaning on the floor. The side of his face was already swollen from the impact of the oxygen cylinder. Notified, Bee rammed the heavy tank down his face. Repeatedly. Every hit adding a new splash of red to her face. It was only after the 7^th hit that the paramedic finally went silent.

“I told you.” Bee sniffed sadly, wiping the blood out of her aggrieved eyes. “I can’t be late.”

“Hey everything okay back there?” The driver up front called out. On getting no response, he frowned and hastily found a parking spot on the busy road. The moment he turned off the ignition, something tight wrapped across his windpipe. His face instantly grew red, hands flaying as his source of oxygen was brutally cut off. His hands flayed backwards, blindly reaching for the perpetrator to push them away but he only met empty air.

The driver’s body lurched forwards, flopping like a fish out of water, eyes bulging, veins popping and lungs constricting.

Silence returned to the ambulance a minute later.

Bee rose from her kneeling position, pulling her pink ribbon from the driver’s neck to retie her two buns.

The tune of the hymn, Nearer to Thee filled the van. Bee hummed the song serenely, dragging the body to the back and dumping it with the other corpses. She sat by the wheel and punched a new address in the maps feature.

Home.

She was going home.

Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,
darkness be over me, my rest a stone;
yet in my dreams I'd be
nearer, my God, to thee;
nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee.

---

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Cheap ads filled the streets of the Capital Colony, illuminating a lonely van making it’s way uptown. The higher up the hill, the dimmer the lights, the scarcer the billboards and the higher the cost of passing vehicles. This little white and red van made a turn from the regular road to park in an obscure spot near an elite residential area, a covert spot known to only the architects of the estate.

Bee jumped out of the ambulance, the dead tree leaves cushioning the sound of her shoes. Northeast of her position was the 400 meter tall clock that centered the Capital City. It chimed twice.

10.30

Late. She was late.

There was a tight constriction in her throat. It was so terrible. The route the paramedics took. If only she went straight after the landing. If only. A part of her, the not very logical part wanted to run straight to her destination at this moment. Run to her honey. Arms wide open.

But there were pressing matters she couldn’t risk putting aside!

She shuffled to the back of the van where the windows were low enough to meet her face. Hurriedly, she fixed her clothing. The zip to her skirt was ripped during the struggle so she had to pull it up a bit and fold by the waist to make it presentable. Her sleeveless top had also been pulled down revealing a bit of cleavage. Immodest. Wrong. How impure it was show these parts of her to the innocent paramedics. She needs to apologize later. Always apologize.

Always.

When she was remorseful, they always let her out early. She didn’t understand that before so she had to stay in that dark dark room. But the keys were in her hands all alone. She was locking herself in. It was her fault.

‘I’m scared. It’s dark. And scary. And lonely. I don’t like this.’

A little girl reflected in the ambulance windows. Bee’s smile stretched wider, blinking until her older face returned.

One earring had fallen off so she removed the other one to make up for it. She used the back of her hand to wipe away the blood on her face. How odd. The blood under her eyes, right on her cheekbones was wet again. It smeared deeper into her skin, blending into the brown shade like a sort of blush.

Satisfied with the preening, she shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear then spun on her toes, euphoric and excited to see the one who waited so long for her.

“Oh no!” She ‘d just started skipping away, bag slung over her shoulder when she stopped in her tracks. Her eyes widened, a bit horrified. How could she forget?! How could she forget this so so important thing?!

”I didn’t get a present!”

She’d been so focused on getting here on time that she didn’t bother stopping to get something good for Honey.

But all those ads showed subpar products. Nothing authentic. Nothing to show her genuine feelings. Nothing real.

“Real…” She whispered hoarsely, a sort of epiphany descending on her. The genius decision was made under a second. “Right. Right. That’s the best. That’s the best. Real. More real than anything else! Because this is real! What we have is real. It is.”

Bee reemerged in the van, eyes darting over the three bodies in serious contemplation. Finally, she picked the new hire with an unrecognizable face.

She sang happily, getting to work.

“Excuse my manners!“

Or if, on joyful wing cleaving the sky,
sun, moon, and stars forgot, upward I fly,
still all my song shall be,
nearer, my God, to thee;
nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee.

Parting Hills was one of the highly sought after estates to live in. 90% of the Capital’s celebrities resided in this area. The entire 10 acres were built right after the forest that marked the end of the Capital’s border. This hill was thus seen as the beginning, end and center of the 1st Colony. Because of its fame, the roads leading to residential areas and homes were built discreetly for only the house owner to identify and not get lost.

A maze to outsiders, a home to the elite.

Bee didn’t come from a classy background. There was a time the convent was too wretched that they had to mash their leftovers, mix it in a lot of water and drink as meals for a month.

But she wasn’t an outsider either.

Would an outsider find her home in under 3 minutes? No. Exactly.

The two-storey bungalow, similar to every other house in the estate had only the master’s room by the second floor illuminated. It didn’t matter that the pole beside the balcony was so slippery, she had to clamp her thighs around, the friction burning her skin. It didn’t matter that half her joints were still dislocated and her core continuously twisted from the tension of the upwards crawl. It didn’t matter that so much salty sweat made her vision too wonky so she had to shut her eyes to concentrate. It didn’t matter that she was just a little bit tired.

Just a little.

None of it mattered in the face of love.

5 minutes and 49 seconds later, she climbed over the corridor of the bungalow’s balcony. The doors were open, an expectant invitation. The room was lit a faint glow from the scented candle, illuminating a figure writing over the beside table.

This figure, a woman clad in a white silk robe, her flowy white hair simmering just past her waist with skin the same shade as the flame. This image ignited a burning hearth in Bee’s heart.

“Honey,” She gasped out, breathless from the climb up. “I’m home.”

This was the moment she’d been waiting for. For so long, longer than ever, long before she learnt what it meant to feel, she dreamed for this moment. When her most important person in the world would turn, dark emerald eyes glistening with surprise and excitement. Excited to see her. So so happy.

The woman’s shoulder’s however, stiffened. Her body turned ever so slowly, as if wound by a gear. The woman took in this new appearance in her home. Took in the person in torn bloodied clothes, the stench of something sinister emanating from them. Her eyes widened, not in surprise, not in shock but in pure unbridled terror.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The lady toppled over her chair, scrambling back to the wall for safety, grabbing onto a forgotten throw pillow, a feeble attempt for protection.

Bee’s smile stayed in place despite a low churning in her stomach. “Shhh.” She whispered after the blood curling scream. “It’s okay. It’s just me. Bee. It’s me Bee, Honey.” When the woman on the ground remained in her trembling and mute state, Bee shifted on her feet nervously. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m late. You’re mad because I’m late right? I know I promised. I promised.”

After the initial scare, some clarity returned to the woman. “What?”

“My letters. You read them right? I sent so many to you, Honey.”

“Who are you?” Honey shivered, confused and scared. Goosebumps visibily covered her arms. “How did you get past security- Security!” Just remembering that option, she screamed as loud as she could for help. “Security! There’s an intruder! Help! Someone broke into my house! She’s crazy! A crazy woman is in my home! Somebody please help me! HELP!”

The smile on Bee’s face seemed plastic. “….Intruder?” Crazy. “No no no not an intruder. I’m not an intruder.” Her hands tapped against her chest repeatedly. “I’m your fan. The greatest. The only. The first. I-I was your first subscriber! Me. The first to send you a stream gift. Bee. Bee. Remember? ‘I’m the honey and you’re the bee’. You told me that 5 years ago when you reached you first 100 subscribers!” One trembling hand went up to a bun to yank at it mechanically. “I sent so many mails. Many handwritten letters. But you never answered. You never answered. So I sent some more. You were busy right? It’s fine. It’s okay. I know how hard you work. I’ve watched it all. That’s why I sent all my money. I-I mean it wasn’t exactly mine but I got it for you. I did it for you. I did it all for you. So you can work less. So we can spend our time together more.”

During her monologue, Honey kept tapping at a button at the corner of the wall. It was supposed to be an emergency alarm, sending alerts to the security team. But it was so quiet, save for her heavy breathing. It wasn’t working. No one came.

No one is coming.

Seeing the frantic action, Bee smiled brighter than ever before. They say acandle burns brightest before it goes out. “You’re upset. I knew you’d be. So I got you a present. A real good one.” Excitement shone in her soft brown eyes as she unzipped her bag. Humming a dramatic beat, she did a little tap dance before pushing her hands forwards. “Tada!”

Sitting right in her palms was a bleeding, beating heart the size of a clenched fist. The moonlight and candlelight fell on this spasming organ from opposing directions as if it were a presentation at an exhibition.

“I got you a heart. For Valentine’s! A real one. I did good.” Thick blood oozed from the deflated, deoxygenated body part. It dripped from her hands down to her elbow before staining the floor in heavy drops of black. “Tell me I did good, Honey. Please.”

“Please.” Quiet sobs erupted from the other side. “Please don’t kill me.” Honey was sobbing. Hard. “I’ll give you anything. Just go away. Leave me alone. I don’t want to die.” Her voice, once reproachful and loud, now weak and tiny.

“What?”

“Go away!”

Bee who always held a bright smile, a hopeful gaze and a cheerful tone flinched.

The plastic was melting.

“No…no that can’t be right.” She staggered a few steps back, dazed. Her head shook slowly. “There’s no way my honey would say that. We- we’ve come a long way. I showed it all to you. I- we were- you’re the only one that ever understood me. There’s no way you’d say that to me. Yes.” Despite her adamant denial, her voice was tiny, tiny and weak, so tiny it could’ve been mistaken for a sob.

Somewhere, stuck in the whirlpool of time was a younger Bee hunched by the corner of a dark room, rocking back and forth, muttering absolute nonsense in latin to fill the silence of the void. And that one. That version was definitely crying.

“Stay away! Go back! Security!” Honey’s face was blanched with terror. This psychopath was stumbling towards her, a twisted ankle and a bleeding heart in hand. The shadows from the candle casta looming picture reminiscent with a devil straight from her nightly horrors. “Please.” Her voice broke, her chest tightened. The air in her lungs had turned to clogged smoke. But this monster won’t disappear. It just grew bigger and bigger, it’s head rearing to bite off hers in one swift chomp.

In one last attempt of self preservation, she flung herself towards her door. She would run down the corridor, get out of the house and cry for help. Someone would definitely come for her. She was a famous streamer. Everyone would recognize her. She just, she just had to get out of here. Yes. The door. She left it unlocked. Just one swift pull. She remembered it so clear-

Clink.

Locked.

It was locked.

How was that possible?

It wasn’t possible. It made no sense. No sense at all.

She turned the lock. It didn’t budge. The second nor the third time. So she kept pulling. And pulling and pulling, yanking at the door handle violently, knowing every second, this demon like entity was creeping closer and closer. Her entire body shook with fear, sweat soaking her nightgown. One more time. One more time and she would be free. Safe. She had to escape. She was going to be killed. She had her whole life agead of her. She needed to run. Run!

The handle broke.

Honey crumbled to her knees, still as a lake.

Finally so so still.

“You weren’t trying to run away from me were you?” Bee stopped right behind her, lashed trembling with unshed tears. “Don’t leave me. Please. Don’t be mad. Don’t be sad. I’ll do anything. Okay? Just look at me. Please? I need someone to finally look at me.”

Silence.

“Honey?”

Outside Parting Hills, Mandible Road, House No.2, the central city clock chimed thrice.

There was a smell. A rotting scent only people like Bee could pick up. A scent that only existed for those that lived with the dead for longer than they were alive.

“No. No no no no no.” Bee fell to the floor, turning Honey by her shoulders. This Honey stared at her not with horror nor fear. Not with confusion nor despair.

But with nothingness.

The light had long left her eyes.

The face she was only able to see through a screen. Through a video she looped over and over again, the light from the tiny screen reflecting in her wide hungry eyes.

She just wanted to be seen.

The eyes she craved for so long were looking right through her now.

“No don’t do this to me. I’m sorry okay?” She shook Honey’s shoulder hard, again and again, so hard her head moved like those cheap ragdolls advertised on the billboard. The motion was far too familiar, causing her to jerk away from Honey.

The corpse toppled to the floor without much grace.

Bee’s iris trembled. Giant drops of tears spilled out of her eyes that were so widened, it seemed they were going to roll out of its sockets. Her lips quivered for only half a second before she broke into a pit of pain filled sobs.

“No. My Honey. My sweet sweet Honey.” She crawled, pathetic and pitiful to the side of the sleeping beauty that was cursed never to wake up. “It’s okay. I’m going to fix this.” The sadness in her eyes slowly faded to be replaced by frenzied delirium. ”I’m going to fix you.”

She raised the long dead heart to her lips.

And took a big chomp.

The meaty flesh was too thick. She had to gnaw again and again, the skin of her lips breaking as she raked her teeth over and into the heart, biting down with everything left in her, with all the emotions that had nowhere to go to. The veiny surface scraped against her tongue like sandpaper, her saliva mixing with iron and sulphur, altering her taste buds forever. When the barrier broke, so did her right molar. It hung to the side, weakly attached to her bleeding gum. Her index finger pushed through the tight opening. She yanked harshly with her jaw and hand, blood bubbling out, washing the ripped out tooth down her throat. In it’s wake, a hole was left behind, organ, teeth and soul.

Her shoulders shook with fatigue as she made work of prying Honey’s lips open with her healthy hand, digging into the sides of her face to keep the quickly stiffening jaw apart. Her dislocated hand gripped the rotting heart over the parted lips and squeezed with all its might, digging her long sharp nails into its sides. Her hands trembled. Trembled so much from the forced gift that was the day and the punishment that was the night. Some of the blood spilled over Honey’s grayed face. But she kept squeezing, this pitiful revival liquid flowing down the dead woman’s throat.

She squeezed until her arms gave up.

But the light in Honey’s eyes never came back.

Bee slowly pulled her hand away and sat by the corpse’s side. She caressed the face she’d seen countless times on the screen. She spoke softly.

I gave you a precious gift.

You did not accept it.

Not in life.

Not in death.

On the other side of the Capital City, up at the highest point of the Saints’ Hotel, this scene between Bee and Honey played out on a 70 inch wide screen.

A woman, dark brown hair stopping just before her shoulders stood before the screen, hands folded behind her white lab coat. A black tinted monocle covered her right eye. However, the left, a deep bottomless filthy black gazed at Bee’s grieving figure.

This gaze was so intrusive, so imploring, so obsessive it was as if it wished to drill through Bee’s skull and reside there, growing spindles and attacking itself to the crevices of her brain to breed monitoring parasitic spires.

Behind this woman was a body, hanging from the ceiling. The noose wound around the thin emasculated neck, so tightly it seemed the corpse head was about to pop right off it’s neck. The body swung in the air , just like a clock’s pendulum, as if a timer had started.

Her white gloved hand pressed against the left of her lab coat and parted lips exhaled a revelation.

“Now this is interesting.”

---

COMPLETE GENESIS TRILOGY HERE