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I wasn’t hungry, I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t anything really. I was dead; this was honestly more than I expected. Thankfully they kind of turned off my need for stimulation before they put me in here. Whoever “they” are; they’ve just called themselves “The Company.” You could practically hear the capital letters.I was purchased after my death, apparently. Wholesale. The god of my world had a chosen people and I wasn’t one of them. I don’t resent him for it. He didn’t throw me into some kind of hell. Apparently The Company was some kind of interdimensional entertainment corporation. I didn’t really love the idea of being someone’s sex doll or action figure, but they assured me that hardly anyone actually wanted someone who wasn’t happy to be there, and they typically used the souls of serial rapists for that kind of client when they did show up.For a long time I just waited. Chatting occasionally with my neighbors or caretakers when the mood struck me. I still enjoyed company even if I. I entered the station and found the chief policeman sitting inhis desk. His sight was very disturbing to me. He was very, veryhandsome. He had green eyes, black hair and a nice muscular body too.What disturbed me was that I was feeling aroused. It was very difficultto control myself, but finally I started to tell him my (fake) story. Hewas very interested and wanted to know where and how I met Anders inRJan. Obviously I told a cover story about the accident, but there wereenough elements to confirm to the policeman (by the way, his name wasJan) that Anders was nuts... and dead. He said:"I knew the poor girl was innocent, she didn't speak more than singlewords all this time, but I was sure she didn't murdered him!"He told me she had been arrested because she was sleeping in Anders houseand refused to tell anything about his whereabouts. The magistrateconcluded that she had murdered him in a robbery attempt and condemnedher to death by the hangman. The sentence was not carried out.
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