All Beauty True

By Froberg

Elizabeth was perfect.

In each an every way, there was no competition for her beauty. Her flawless skin seemed to almost cast a halo over her amazingly proportioned body. Every once in a while, atheists would notice her and seriously doubt their choice of religion. If a god existed, surely angels would look like she did. And like all beautiful women, Elizabeth knew of her divine looks. She smiled to herself while applying the last of the lipstick. One with her looks didn't need much make-up, but it still helped. She felt prettier than ever. Not a soul on the planet would be able to resist her.

A quick glance at the nearest window revealed that it was already evening. The woman let out a small sigh. She'd looked forward to go out shopping, but now the stores were all closed. She decided that it didn't matter. Her wardrobe was big enough as it was, at least to get her through the evening. Tonight, she had a modeling appointment. Ever since her teen years, she'd been beautiful. Long before the other girls, she'd developed breasts and thighs. The boys had instantly taken a liking to her then, and it had never faded. She gave the wristwatch a quick glare. She still had time.

For this modeling session, she chose a scarlet dress. It was one of the few outfits she really liked. I showed off her breasts and thighs, but it was still classy enough to not look sluttish. She looked at the mirror in her dressing room. Something was missing, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Ear rings, she told herself. I forgot about the ears. She quickly took some from the jewelry box. She chose the red ones, to match the dress. The woman was thankful for her dark hair and brown eyes. Those matched most garments. Except for maybe black. She didn't like wearing black, it made her look too gothic.

She looked in the mirror again, but there was still something missing. Looking at her watch, she realized that she had to hurry. A quick eyeliner was applied. Her eyebrows needed to look sharp, she figured. She was going for a look that was sexy but still retained a certain class. Elizabeth looked at the mirror again. There was still something missing, she was sure of it. She just couldn't see what it was.

She applied some sweet perfume. Even though modeling was purely about looks, the smell of flowers made her feel prettier. She tried to verify the way she felt with the mirror. It still didn't reflect how she felt. Something was missing, she knew it. Elizabeth sighed stubbornly. Maybe it was the underwear. Sure, it couldn't be seen normally, but the dress was generous enough to allow for a well hidden panty shot, if the photographer so desired. Finding some rather daring underwear, she smiled wickedly. She'd be a raging sex monster beneath the dress, and nobody, boy nor man, would be able to resist her charms.

Elizabeth suddenly hesitated. "Nobody will be able to resist you," the black man had told her as his hand had ever so gently been caressing her thighs. "Your looks are a gift well worthy of my present, if you so desire." She felt tears form in the corner of her eyes and quickly got some paper to dry them. If the make up got smeared, she'd have to do it all over again, and she couldn't risk it. The sobs suddenly stopped and the woman looked at the wet paper pondering why she'd been crying.

The beauty knew that she wouldn't have time to look in the mirror again, so she headed out the door. She liked the night, especially in town. Men would stare at her in amazement while their wives send her jealous looks. She knew she was perfect, and it seemed the everybody else agreed. She did a little catwalk wiggling her butt. One guy was so busy staring at her that he managed to trip over the sidewalk. She giggled. As she finally found the building, she'd gotten hundreds if not thousand of amazed stares. She smiled widely and, if possible, it made her even more beautiful. Her delicate fingers opened the door allowing her to glance at the nail polish she'd chosen for her now perfectly sparkling nails. She was perfect and she knew it.

"Hello," she said as she neared the receptionist. "My name is Elizabeth Amery, I'm here to model for the WideEye modeling agency."

The receptionist, an older woman, gave her a quick you-lucky-bastard look and looked through some papers. "Yes, please go right in," she said gesturing towards the door.

Elizabeth thanked her and went inside. The photographer was busy getting the equipment ready. "Hey," he said without looking up. "Please sit down and wait a few minutes."

She did so. When the photographer finally looked up, he gasped at the sight of her. It made her giggle as the photographer clumsily got his camera ready. She struck some poses as he eagerly shot his camera. He was just like the rest, she knew. Every man desired her. In this world, brain had little meaning if you had looks like her. Looks which made even an experienced photographer gasp.

"Okay, done," he said after a while. He pulled a CD out of the camera and handed it to her. "Give these to the boss and he'll look over the pictures. Then you'll be paid."

"Thanks," she said and glanced at the photographer again. He wasn't really bad looking. Sure, he could use a shave, but the little hairs on his chin made him look sort of rough. His neck was certainly handsome, she decided. Then she felt herself blushing. She shouldn't think like that now. She had to be professional.

"Hey," said the photographer. "You doing anything Friday? I thought that, if you're not busy, then maybe..." he didn't finish the sentence. "Nah, sorry, I guess you already have a boyfriend." He blushed. "Sorry about that."

She giggled. "You can pick me up at seven, okay?" she said and wrote down her address on a piece of paper. He didn't reply. In fact, he seemed almost petrified. This made her laugh once more as she exited the room to go deliver the pictures.

Elizabeth finally found the boss and handed him the CD with the pictures. "The photographer told me to give you these," she said annoyed at how the man didn't seem all that amazed at how good she looked.

He nodded and placed it in his computer. "Fill out this form, please," he told her.

She did as he said while trying to figure out why he didn't find her amazingly pretty. Sure, he could be gay, but he should at least still be amazed even if he wasn't sexually interested. She remembered how something had been missing in the mirror. Perhaps he'd noticed. Maybe he found her ugly now. Elizabeth had to fight not to cry. There was a chance somebody found her ugly.

"Is this a joke?" asked the man.

Elizabeth took a deep breath hoping that her eyes didn't look too wet. "What?" she asked trying to sound stronger than she really felt.

He turned the screen around so she could see. Then he scrolled through thirty six pictures of the room she'd been photographed in. "What's this supposed to be?" he asked. "I don't have time for these pranks, you know. Get serious, or get out of the business."

"No," she mumbled. "Those were pictures of me..."

He took the papers she'd been filling out. "Right, and I suppose this is serious too. Date of birth: Second of august, nineteen-twentytwo? Please, girl, I'd love to have one with your looks on the team, but you need to be serious."

She didn't say anything. The black man had told her so too. She needed to be serious about her decision, she had to think it through. She touched the bulges in her lips and wondered if they made her look ugly. Perhaps they did. That night at the farm, the black man had seduced her, promised her that she could keep her beauty forever, that she would never grow old. Beauty was all she had. Her sisters had always hated her for her looks. They'd beaten her, filling her with promises that she'd get ugly once she turned twenty. That her future husband would leave her.

Now her family was long gone and she was crying furiously in front of a man she didn't know. The black man never mentioned that this would happen. Photographs were a wonderful invention, they preserved your looks for all eternity. What good was immortality if it made her looks worthless? The black man had been her first and final lover. Her destiny, death and virginity, all taken by a bite to the neck. It had been centuries, but fate had it that she'd have to be reminded every time she wanted to forget.

"Hey, what's wrong?" asked the man sitting in front of her in this wicked age of haunting memories.

As her eyes turned yellow, she realized that the answer was amazingly obvious. Everything was wrong. "Let me forget," she yelled at him. "Let me forget it all, you sick freak. Why are you reminding me?" Without a warning, the woman suddenly screamed as loud as she possibly could. As the man noticed the fangs in her mouth, he tried to get up. He couldn't. Nobody could escape her. The young woman exploded into thousands of bats, attacking him before he even had a chance to scream. As the critters exited through the window, not a drop of blood remained of her victim.

Far away from there, the bats formed a woman. As the last bat merged with her, Elizabeth began to cry once again. She would sleep now. Perhaps, when she woke up, everything would be okay again. It'd all been a dream, she was sure. Elizabeth placed herself in her coffin and closed her eyes.

Almost a month later, as the full moon once again shined down upon the city, the young woman woke up. She got out of the coffin and stared into the mirror which would never be able to reflect her image. Then she suddenly realized it. Something was missing, she thought to herself. Elizabeth hovered to the bathroom and took of her clothes before getting into the shower. The dried blood mixed with the purifying water and slowly made its way down the drains. Smiling, the young woman looked down herself. She had a perfect body, and she knew it. She wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out. Elizabeth picked up the phone. Perhaps she'd be able to get a modeling job tonight.