Alice had taken her head out of her snapjaw chest. She had been in 'thought' about taking her head and handing it over to the old gentleman. Forget about locking it in a box; how about it sitting on the counter for someone to rent? She had three weeks to get it back. No big deal. She didn't need a head right now, so why not let it go to good use?
That all changed when she put it back on her shoulders to make the call. She still wanted to go through with it, but she realized she was exhausted. Jet lag from traveling that morning followed by what she just spent an unknown number of hours doing had caught up to her.
"Maybe I'll...get some food...then I can take a nap...or maybe I'll nap first..."
Alice untied her corset and began the process of unlacing it.
"...then I can give him my head. I just need food a-a-and..."
Alice yawned. She didn't bother to move her hands away from the laces. It was a slow and silent process from that point on; undress, hang up the dress and corset, throw on a t-shirt and sweatpants from the bottom of her trunk, climb into bed. She thought she would be awake in an hour or so and get food then.
Alice slept through the night without dreams.
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It was 10:05 the next morning. The old gentleman was seated behind the counter of the front desk. A thin pair of reading glasses rested on the tip of his nose. He held a book of Sudoku puzzles in one hand. In the other was a number 02 pencil that flipped from point to eraser and back between nimble fingers.
He looked up at the sound of footsteps in the lobby. He gave his trademark smile (formed from decades of providing hospitality and service to others) as he looked into the eyes of the guest walking up to counter.
It was Alice, the young woman who had arrived yesterday. She had been here for less than a day and had already made the most spectacular unusual request he had granted in years. The plain, pretty young face he was looking at now had been locked in the snapjaw chest that severed it from her neck, then handed over to his supervision for three hours. He was not surprised in the least when she bought the chest minutes after he returned it to her.
"Good morning, Miss."
"Call me Alice, please." She was smiling from ear to ear.
"Of course, Alice. What can I do for you?"
"I was planning on eating a late breakfast, then seeing if anyone was around in the barter and trading area...but I don't know how other people might...you know...react to...this."
The old gentleman looked Alice over. Her outfit was similar to yesterday's. A tight black corset; a form-fitting strapless black velvet dress with a hem that ended at (and hugged) her knees; over-knee translucent black stockings clipped to unseen garters; 2-inch matte black heels; black satin gloves that extended past her elbows.
No, she seemed quite comfortable about what she chose to wear. She must be talking about her head, then. It wasn't on her almost non-existent neck; rather, she had been holding her head in both hands at her waist.
("Could it really be...was yesterday the first time she let someone -- me, of all people -- see her headless?")
"Alice, I assure you that your choice to hold your head instead of wear it will not cause panic and chaos."
She laughed heartily, learning forward. The old gentleman could not help but notice how her chest jiggled against the top of her head. He did not think she was wearing a bra.
"But," he continued, "you will find more than enough people may stare. It is not every day that someone walks by without their head on their shoulders, especially someone with your beauty."
Alice perked up at the compliment with a thin grin and...was she blushing as well? "You're too kind. Thank you, for both your assurance today and your services yesterday. What is your name?"
"Gerald. And you are quite welcome for both."
"Gerald," Alice repeated. She curtsied to acknowledge their formal acquaintance. "I must ask you another question. This one is about the wonderful box you have both given to and taken from me." The small smile on her face said, 'with our little secret inside.'
"Ah, yes, the Snapjaw Chest. It has quite an enticing interior, does it not?"
"An attraction I couldn't ignore," she replied. Her eyes were locked on his. She straightened her back and took a deep breath in. She kept her chest held high as she continued. "Is there something...different about the chest? My thoughts were...intense...while my head was inside of it, but I didn't feel the same way about some things this morning."
"You are correct, Alice. The black material that lines the inside of the chest is very different, indeed. It detects, attracts, reflects, transmits, and amplifies brainwaves. The box isn't necessary for the stuff to work. All the chest itself does is cut off your head without hurting you."
A vacant and puzzled look settled on Alice's face. "I don't think I understand, Gerald. I'm sorry."
"No, Alice, I should apologize for the poor explanation. I shall try again," he said. He felt some pride as he watched Alice's smile return. "The black stuff - chroma...yes, crow-mah, just like that - is constantly trying to detect brainwaves. When the box is closed, it can't find any. Once the box is open, the chroma 'sees' the strongest brainwaves nearby, then starts pulling on what is making them - your brain. No one is quite sure how it does it."
Alice 'oooed' at his last statement. Her face was exuding childlike wonder. Gerald smiled at his captivated audience of one as he continued.
"The box is enchanted to freeze open so the chroma has time to get your head as close as possible. It's also enchanted to snap shut once the chroma shifts to transmitting the brainwaves it sees. When the box is closed, your brainwaves bounce and reverberate in the tight space. The chroma can't tell the difference between the original brainwaves or the reflections, so it transmits everything. That basically amplifies the signals your body gets."
"Oh...so the thoughts I'm having when I'm using the box are so strong because it's like I'm thinking them ten times over..."
"Well...yes and no," Gerald said. "Your headless body is doing the thinking once your head is in the box."
Alice took a short breath in preparation to say something, closed her mouth, then tried again. "...but I thought the box transmitted my thoughts to my body."
"Both of these things are true. You are thinking without a head, and the box is transmitting your thoughts to you."
Alice squinted her eyes and mouthed the word 'what' in confusion. She leaned far back as she burst into laughter. "This is so complicated! Both my head and body are thinking when I use this thing?" The top of her dress had slid down her chest enough to show most of the cleavage she had displayed yesterday. Gerald wasn't sure if Alice could tell.
"Your head gets...paused, let's say...by the decapitation, replaying whatever brainwaves it was creating when the chest closed. The chroma reflects them ten times over and transmits everything. Your body innately recognizes and trusts the thoughts since your head made them, even though your head isn't technically thinking anymore."
"Oh! I think I get it!" She bounced a few times in pure joy. Gerald saw two slim pink arcs peeking out of the top of Alice's dress. "My body is thinking in the present, but also receiving my old thoughts and thinking that those are also my current thoughts-"
"-and feelings," Gerald said. "Brainwaves carry the emotions you were feeling as well." He was feeling his own emotions at the moment; a half-moon of pink that could only be Alice's areola was peeking out of her dress. A vast amount of both of her tits were visible.
Alice gasped. "Everything makes so much sense now! It was the same thing over and over and it felt so right because I was thinking about it when-" She stopped abruptly. She closed her eyes and bowed forward far enough to hide part of her head. "Gerald, thank you for explaining it to me."
"O-of course, uh, Alice," he stammered. She had given him a view he would never forget. Her headless body, her tits squeezed between her arms, the endless line of her cleavage, the half disks of her pink areolas, the stubs of her hard nipples under the soft black velvet. "Any-Anything you need."
Alice stood up straight. There was a sly smile on her lips and color in her cheeks. "I will hold you to that, Gerald." She turned around slowly, keeping eye contact with him until her body blocked her view. She sauntered away, her heels clicking on the tile. He saw a gloved hand rise to finally pull her dress back up. He kept watching her and the sway of her hips until she was gone, wondering how she was able to maintain her balance so well, wondering how much she had been flirting with him (or if she even realized she was flirting at all).
("She is one-of-a-kind, that is for certain. And probably not interested in a man close to his sixtieth birthday. Yes, probably just likes the attention...")
This thought didn't stop Gerald from fantasizing about her and the clothing she wore, or from remembering what it was like to watch over her head for her. His sudoku book was all but forgotten (even though it was still in his hand with his thumb between the pages). He sat at the counter daydreaming about Alice until the next guest arrived.
The reactive smile he used for guests didn't need to appear on his face; he was already smiling.
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Alice walked out of the trading hall with slow, deliberate steps. Her head was still nestled in her hands. She was no longer smiling. A frown of disappointment was etched on her face.
("Nothing at breakfast...nothing from the guests bartering...just a conversation with one of the employees, and she was just being polite...")
She had been worried this morning about people panicking. Anywhere else in the world, everyone would have lost their minds over hers being separated from her body. But now that breakfast came and went without incident (even with her feeding her severed head the whole time!) and the few guests trading goods at this hour flat-out ignored her (not even a glance!), Alice realized that there was something worse than people freaking out: people completely unfazed. She was disheartened.
("Is even one gasp too much to ask? Not one person wanted to ask if I was worried I'd lose it or drop it? Not one compliment on walking without it on my shoulders, or on my outfit, or...or...")
She was surprised to find tears had gathered in her eyes. A blink sent one rolling down her cheek and into the crevice between her face and her hand. The pace of her steps had increased. The clack of her heels punctured the silence surrounding her.
("No one cares here...just like home...what a stupid vacation...I'm a fool for thinking being headless was a big deal...what did I want, a medal? How dumb of me. How fuc-")
"...Alice? Alice, dear, what is the matter? Are you alright?"
She looked up to the source of the voice while maintaining her fast stride (half of her mind was still intent on locking herself in her room as soon as possible). Once she saw who it was, her walking pace halved. When she recognized the look he was giving her, her movement died altogether.
It was Gerald. He was leaning over the counter with an unmistakable look of concern on his face. He had dropped his book, pulled off his glasses, and stood up, all by the time she had stopped walking. His eyes were darting all over her in search of clues for the cause of her distress.
"Please tell me what happened so I can make things right for you," Gerald said.
"I, uh...I'm...," Alice stammered. She inhaled with a wet sniff.
("...crying over not getting any attention? Thinking I'm worthless? No, I'm not telling him why I have tears on my face. It's for a stupid reason.")
"I'm...okay. I just...thought of something...and..." Alice shrugged her shoulders. It lifted her head into her chest. "I'm fine," she finished lamely. She glanced between Gerald's eyes and random points on the ground.
Gerald's concerned look shifted to one of a gentle, empathetic father. He had seen this before in one form or another throughout his experience here at this NBM resort. He chose his words without effort.
"...the businessmen in the trading area have been planning this early meeting for months, you know. Many expensive and rare items are set to change hands. It's quite a lot to keep track of, and no one wants the bad end of such an important deal."
Alice sniffed again. Her blue eyes still focused towards the tiles. They darted around as though they were directing a laser pointer around a playful cat. But the words Gerald spoke began sinking in.
Gerald grabbed a few tissues from a box under the counter. He walked with soundless footsteps and tactful grace. As he closed the distance between himself and the distressed dullahan damsel in black, Gerald monologued reasons and reassurances of her unspoken problems.
"They chose such an early time to avoid the crowd that gathers and parades around after dinner. Tonight is going to be packed. Every trader in a trade confirmed by the house this evening gets a free mystery bag. You should bring your bag along for that and see what you can find. I'm sure you will have people climbing over each other for the chance to trade with you."
Gerald knew the moment Alice told him she was heading to the trading area that she was not going there to trade. She he had not brought along her bag or any items to trade away. And what he said about the businessmen was true; he had booked their reservations and arrangements himself. Alice's silence was enough confirmation for Gerald. She made a harmless call for attention, but no one answered.
He got down on one knee next to her. Their eyes were at the same level. He held a tissue near her face. She turned her head in her hands to better face him. He wiped her cheeks tenderly. She sniffed again. Her eyes were still downcast.
"The event starts at 3, but most guests arrive a bit later. It turns into quite the spectacle as more guests open their gifts and...well, you will see for yourself as the night rolls on. Will you join us for that, Alice?"
She looked into Gerald's eyes for a moment. "That...*sniff*...sounds lovely," she said. She balanced her head on one hand and against her abdomen. Her other hand reached to pick a tissue from Gerald's hand. She put it to her nose with a deep breath and blew.
Gerald chuckled at what he was seeing. It was odd to see a body blow its nose when it was holding its head.
Alice was briefly confused before giggling herself; it felt weird to blow her nose this way because it still felt natural. She realized that didn't make any sense, which got her giggling harder.
Gerald's face lit up. "Ah, there's the Alice I know." He gingerly picked the used tissue from Alice's hand as he stood up. She shifted her head to keep eye contact with him. "I will be glad to see you again tonight. Is there anything else I can get for you?"
Alice tried to shake her head 'no' and laughed again. "No, Gerald...but thank you." She looked at him for a long, strong moment before stepping off. Her walk was slow and content.
Gerald watched her walk, headless and stunning, until she turned the corner of her hallway just two doors away from her room. He shook his head and smiled as he stepped behind the counter. He sat undisturbed, daydreaming of this wonderland of a woman named Alice, imagining anything and everything he was certain he would never have a chance to do with her.
Half an hour later, some of Gerald's fantasies became realities.