Caught naked by mother in law

I found out over Christmas whilst doing a family history search online that my dad had fathered 2 children by a different woman about 20 years ago. Side note - He and my mother have been married for over 35 years. His name brought up results for not only myself and my two brothers births, but 2 other births. The excuse in the OP of "You were not told - as you wouldn't understand" is a complete cop out. I have not been in such a serious situation as the OP, but the culmination of my family issues were when my brother and I were disinherited when parents sold their house and gave all the money to my younger sister. In 2012, the family had been shaken by two terrible events in close succession. Mum started chemotherapy for cancer in the April. Four months later, my grandma died of the disease aged 85. Older baby boomers — those age 63 to 71 — were nearly four times as likely as millennials to have had a secret account. About 11% of boomers admitted to secret bank accounts or credit cards ... Some people choose to cut off a family member not because of abuse but because of religious belief, conflict, betrayal, addiction, mental illness, or criminal or unhealthy behaviors.Unless the ... DEAR ABBY: I recently found out who my biological father is/was. Apparently, my mother and this man had an affair more than 50 years ago. There’s only speculation as to why. What bothers me is ... My mother later told me she had been forced to give the infant to her husband because he said he’d harm the two older children, both toddlers, if she didn’t. ... “Once a secret is out in the ... But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. – Matthew 5:27-28. I was hiding in my sin. I allowed my thoughts to get out of control and I caused pain to my husband. I repented of what I did. I also repented from keeping it from my husband. About six months after he died, I found out many secrets that he had been keeping. The worst of it was that [my husband] had been involved with a woman in my town who was the mother of my daughter ... My husband and I are very happy together. We look like your average everyday middle class American family, but I have a deep dark secret that i have been keeping from him for 12 years.I have known all along that our only son is not his child. I know that he isnt my husbands child because, I Was already 4 weeks pregnant when i met my husband and became intimate with him. my sons biological ...

2020.09.19 10:56 Mandahrk Naked law mother caught in by

Part 2
Fragments of old memories splattered on the back of my eyelids, a fuzzy kaleidoscope of images from the past - cuddling with mom under the blanket after watching the animated Aladdin movie, asking her about genies, feeling her warm fingers on my forehead, gently falling asleep in her embrace.
Little me could never have imagined that the lovable blue skinned creature that hissed out of an ornate lamp would one day kill her mom.
"A Djinn?" I asked. "A Genie, like in the movies?"
Uncle Barney chuckled. "Yeah, well, this one is certainly not helping you become the queen of some mystical kingdom."
I spent the next several minutes grilling him and Dad about the Djinn that was after me. They didn't tell me much however, simply because they just didn't know. They were stumbling around in the dark, and if it hadn't been for Uncle Barney's old drinking buddy Liam, we would have been completely blind. It was a total coincidence that Uncle Barney ran into, and became friends with, a bonafide monster hunter at a dingy bar. Liam, who was grieving the death of a friend at the time, proved to be a godsend, a lance of lightning streaking through the darkest night. Based on the feeble evidence presented to him after a drinking binge, he quickly surmised that we were dealing with a Djinn and prescribed some countermeasures. The fence outside, the tree stump within it, the talisman around my neck, an old curving dagger with a silver pommel tucked in the waistband of Dad's jeans - the only think that can hurt it - we had it all courtesy of Liam.
"Does that sate your curiosity, m'lady?" Uncle Barney asked, stifling a yawn. "Because it's getting quite late. It's already 3 AM. We should catch some sleep."
"Yeah." I replied begrudgingly.
"3 AM?" Dad asked, surprised. "Wow. I almost forgot."
He pulled me in for a hug. "Happy Birthday, Ciara."
*
What little sleep I got that night was plagued with the most horrid of nightmares.
I was in the woods outside. It was nighttime. The forest floor was dappled with pale moonlight that silted down through the tiny gaps in the thick canopy. I was running. Running like my life depended on it. Jumping over mossy overgrown roots, hurtling through dense underbrush, twigs and fallen branches cracking and snapping under my bare feet that splashed in the muddy morass, I ran. With sharp thorns of nettle slashing my calves open, I ran. And ran until my lungs burned and my muscles began to cramp. And ran some more. I could feel something was following me. Soundlessly slithering along with the shadows that slipped around wet tree barks, a terrible monstrosity gained on me with a relentlessness that could only be displayed by something not bound by the laws of nature. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there. Stalking me. Hunting me. Watching me with a thousand red eyes nestled in the dark sopping leaves of the dense thicket surrounding me.
And so I ran. My legs pumping like pistons, I ran until it felt like my life was going to escape out of mouth.
That's when I stumbled upon the clearing. It was barren. Bereft of all vegetation, like the very land was cursed. Except for a small patch right in the middle, where a dense grove of lightning struck trees grew out of the ground like the gnarled, blackened fingers of some subterranean entity. But it weren't the trees themselves that drew my attention, but what was splayed out on top of them. As the branchless trees grew skyward, they bent inwards, towards the centre of the grove until their tops wove together. And on this uneven lattice rested the naked and mutilated corpse of my mother.
A swarm of flies hovered over her rotting body like a black cloud, descending every now and then to suck away at my mother's ripe flesh. I could smell her. Even though I knew I was dreaming, even though I knew it wasn't real, I could smell the stench of death on her. And it made me retch.
*
I woke up with a start. My heart pounded and my body ached like I had just run a marathon at my top speed. The white sheets beneath me had darkened with my sweat.
What was that dream? Why did it feel so real?
Was it the Djinn messing with my head? If so, then why did he choose to show me this?
I twisted my body and prepared to roll out of bed, blinking furiously as the sunlight shone off the lake and stabbed at my eyes. I looked at my phone and saw that it was already 10 AM. Touching my Talisman to confirm that it was indeed still there, I got up, yawned and trudged to the bathroom.
After splashing my face with water and quickly brushing my teeth, I hurried downstairs, the smell of eggs and bacon wafting from the kitchen having reinvigorated my tired body. I smiled as I saw Uncle Barney in front of the stove. There was something endearing about watching a big bearded man like him in an apron, sashaying around in the cramped kitchen like he belonged there. Dad was seated at the dining table, slathering jam on his toast.
"Hey there birthday girl." Uncle Barney said in his usual gruff voice.
"Hi." I replied as I slid into a chair next to Dad and wished him a good morning.
"So," I said, drumming my fingers on the table. "How long until breakfast's ready?"
Uncle Barney playfully jabbed his spatula at me. "You must learn to be patient, little dragon. A chef needs time to create the perfect meal."
"Well, in that case," I began, "I'm gonna go outside and have a look around."
"What?" Dad asked, swiveling his neck to look at me. "Why?"
Because I just saw mom in my dream. I didn't tell him that. Bad idea, I know. But I knew that if I had told him he wouldn't let me set foot outside. And I really wanted to. To see the spot where I had imagined the lady standing and screaming the night before. To check and confirm whether the fence was still there. To try and see if my gaze could pierce through the dense woods and spot the grove where Mom… No, I definitely could'nt tell him that. No way.
Dad furrowed his brow. "Okay. But stay on the porch."
I nodded, grabbed a slice of bacon off the plate when Uncle Barney wasn't looking, eating it as I made my way out the front door.
It was bright outside, the sun was sucking away the water that had been clogging the ground. Puddles were drying up, their edges cracking with the heat. Even the stump with the Arabic carving, though soaked to the core, was starting to lose its moisture. The air was warm, fresh and made my skin tingle pleasantly. I grinned, stretched my limbs, gazed at the still-intact fence. And froze when I saw a figure walking next to it.
It was a woman. I narrowed my eyes, shielded my eyes from the sun with my hand and focused. My breath hitched when I saw who it was.
It was Mom.
She was gliding over the grass next to the fence with as much grace as she'd always had. She was glowing, like she was draped in sunlight itself. Her yellow sundress shimmered with each step, her long dark hair bouncing on her shoulders playfully. "Oh my god." I whispered.
She twirled, like a dancer, brushed her hair behind her ear and walked, running her hand over the now dirty white sheets tied to the barbed wire. She was so beautiful, so flush with life, unlike in the dream where she was cold, pale and rotting. Tears pooled in my eyes. "Mom..." I found myself saying.
Her head shot up, almost like she'd heard me. She bent over the wire, squinted, trying to see who it was that had called out to her. I sucked in my breath when she spotted me. She was looking at me, right at me with her honey-brown eyes. A smile danced on her lips, her face relaxing into an expression of such peace it warmed my heart. My mouth dropped open as she brought her arms up in front of her and gestured at me to come to her. It was a sight I was so intimately familiar with. How many times had I gone running into her arms when she'd spread them out like this? How many times had I fallen asleep in there, listening to her whisper sweet nothings into my ear as her warm hand gently patted the back of my head?
My body lurched involuntarily, and I took a step forward. I never even got the chance to say goodbye to her, she was taken from me in such a cruel and abrupt manner. Another step, and I felt the splinters of the wooden steps biting the soles of my feet. There was a voice gnawing at the back of my mind, telling me that this was really dangerous. I ignored it. Another step. Grass tickled my feet as they dug into the soft dirt. It should be fine, I told myself. I'm just trying to get a good look at her. To try and capture her visage with my eyes, sear it into my memory. Permanently. Another step. I was halfway between the house and the fence now. I could practically smell her. Just a little more and I could reach out and touch her too.
Another step. My leg bumped into something. I stumbled, looked down and saw that I had hit the stump. My brain felt fuzzy. Legs wobbling, I flopped down on the stump. What was I doing? This seemed to be quite reckless, didn't it? Was I doing this of my own volition, or was the Djinn dragging me out like the pied piper? I wanted to get close to Mom, but there were alarm bells going off all over my body, rattling my bones, trying to jolt me out of the dream like trance I was in.
"Ciara."
I could hear someone calling for me. But it sounded distant, like the voice was dropping down from the top of a tall building. Who was it? Was it Mom? Scalp tingling with sweat, I raised my eyes at her. Her lips were moving, but no sound came out. What?
"Ciara."
I felt heavy hands on my shoulders and my heartbeat boomed in my ears. Sound suddenly exploded around me. I hadn't even realised just how silent it had gotten. The chirping of the birds, rustling of leaves, Dad's laboured breathing, all rushed into my ears. All at once. Oh. It was Dad who was standing next to me, his hands wrapped tight around my shoulders. "Ciara. We need to go inside. Now." He looked terrified, shooting glances at Mom out of the corner of his eyes. So he could see her too.
"Yeah. Yeah, sure." I muttered as I took his clammy hand.
*
Uncle Barney had already laid out the breakfast for us by the time we went back in. "I saw what happened out there. That was really reckless." He said as we sat down at the dining table. Dad cupped his hands on his face and took a couple of very deep breaths.
I didn't say anything, just grabbed a glass of water with my trembling hands and took a sip. It was starting to hit me now, how close I'd gotten to leaving the safety of the fence. Just a few more steps, and… How could I have been so foolish?
"You can't be this careless, Ciara." Uncle Barney admonished me. "The more you let yourself be exposed to the Djinn's hallucinations, the more you become susceptible to them. If you keep on doing this, soon you won't be able to tell the difference between what's real and what's not. You're practically inviting the bastard into your head."
"Yeah. Yeah." I said, my head bowed in guilt.
"It's only a matter of one mistake. One misstep and…"
"Lay off her, Barney." Dad interrupted. "She gets it."
"I'm just looking out for her…"
"You're adding to the stress."
"I'm reminding her of how dangerous the situation is." Uncle Barney insisted.
Dad looked bewildered. "You think she doesn't know that? Goddamn it Barney. She just lost her mother. You really think she wouldn't be affected by it? Even I almost passed out when I saw her out there."
"I know. I know. I'm just…"
"I had a dream last night." I said, and they both immediately fell silent and turned their attention towards me. "Mom was there. In the dream." The words flooded out of my mouth as I rambled on about the horrible nightmare I'd had. Both of them had a deer caught in the headlights look on their faces by the time I finished.
"Woah!" Uncle Barney exclaimed. "It can even invade your dreams?"
Dad's eyes flitted around as he tried to make sense if it all. "The Djinn showed her that nightmare to make her feel despair. To get her at her lowest point. At her most vulnerable. Seeing her mother like that, he knew it would take a toll on her. And so he used that vulnerability against her, showing her what Zoe used to be like in her prime. To get her guard down and have her leave the barrier."
"A carrot and stick approach." Uncle Barney whispered. "Jesus."
He tugged at his beard. Forcefully. "We need to stick together as much as possible."
Dad nodded. "Yeah. I don't know why I let her exit the house alone."
"Another result of the Djinn's machinations?"
"I don't know... What do you think?"
"What I think?" Uncle Barney sighed. "I think we've been severely underestimating what the Djinn is capable of. We need to be more cautious. Way more cautious."
Dad nodded thoughtfully, then focused on me. "Ciara, honey. I'm sorry for saying this again. But please, please be careful."
I answered with an eager nod. But I wish I had told him to listen to his own warnings instead, because if he had, then things wouldn't have gone to absolute hell later that day.
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2020.09.19 10:52 Mandahrk I just found out that my family has been keeping a terrible secret from me. [Part 3]

Part 2
Fragments of old memories splattered on the back of my eyelids, a fuzzy kaleidoscope of images from the past - cuddling with mom under the blanket after watching the animated Aladdin movie, asking her about genies, feeling her warm fingers on my forehead, gently falling asleep in her embrace.
Little me could never have imagined that the lovable blue skinned creature that hissed out of an ornate lamp would one day kill her mom.
"A Djinn?" I asked. "A Genie, like in the movies?"
Uncle Barney chuckled. "Yeah, well, this one is certainly not helping you become the queen of some mystical kingdom."
I spent the next several minutes grilling him and Dad about the Djinn that was after me. They didn't tell me much however, simply because they just didn't know. They were stumbling around in the dark, and if it hadn't been for Uncle Barney's old drinking buddy Liam, we would have been completely blind. It was a total coincidence that Uncle Barney ran into, and became friends with, a bonafide monster hunter at a dingy bar. Liam, who was grieving the death of a friend at the time, proved to be a godsend, a lance of lightning streaking through the darkest night. Based on the feeble evidence presented to him after a drinking binge, he quickly surmised that we were dealing with a Djinn and prescribed some countermeasures. The fence outside, the tree stump within it, the talisman around my neck, an old curving dagger with a silver pommel tucked in the waistband of Dad's jeans - the only think that can hurt it - we had it all courtesy of Liam.
"Does that sate your curiosity, m'lady?" Uncle Barney asked, stifling a yawn. "Because it's getting quite late. It's already 3 AM. We should catch some sleep."
"Yeah." I replied begrudgingly.
"3 AM?" Dad asked, surprised. "Wow. I almost forgot."
He pulled me in for a hug. "Happy Birthday, Ciara."
*
What little sleep I got that night was plagued with the most horrid of nightmares.
I was in the woods outside. It was nighttime. The forest floor was dappled with pale moonlight that silted down through the tiny gaps in the thick canopy. I was running. Running like my life depended on it. Jumping over mossy overgrown roots, hurtling through dense underbrush, twigs and fallen branches cracking and snapping under my bare feet that splashed in the muddy morass, I ran. With sharp thorns of nettle slashing my calves open, I ran. And ran until my lungs burned and my muscles began to cramp. And ran some more. I could feel something was following me. Soundlessly slithering along with the shadows that slipped around wet tree barks, a terrible monstrosity gained on me with a relentlessness that could only be displayed by something not bound by the laws of nature. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there. Stalking me. Hunting me. Watching me with a thousand red eyes nestled in the dark sopping leaves of the dense thicket surrounding me.
And so I ran. My legs pumping like pistons, I ran until it felt like my life was going to escape out of mouth.
That's when I stumbled upon the clearing. It was barren. Bereft of all vegetation, like the very land was cursed. Except for a small patch right in the middle, where a dense grove of lightning struck trees grew out of the ground like the gnarled, blackened fingers of some subterranean entity. But it weren't the trees themselves that drew my attention, but what was splayed out on top of them. As the branchless trees grew skyward, they bent inwards, towards the centre of the grove until their tops wove together. And on this uneven lattice rested the naked and mutilated corpse of my mother.
A swarm of flies hovered over her rotting body like a black cloud, descending every now and then to suck away at my mother's ripe flesh. I could smell her. Even though I knew I was dreaming, even though I knew it wasn't real, I could smell the stench of death on her. And it made me retch.
*
I woke up with a start. My heart pounded and my body ached like I had just run a marathon at my top speed. The white sheets beneath me had darkened with my sweat.
What was that dream? Why did it feel so real?
Was it the Djinn messing with my head? If so, then why did he choose to show me this?
I twisted my body and prepared to roll out of bed, blinking furiously as the sunlight shone off the lake and stabbed at my eyes. I looked at my phone and saw that it was already 10 AM. Touching my Talisman to confirm that it was indeed still there, I got up, yawned and trudged to the bathroom.
After splashing my face with water and quickly brushing my teeth, I hurried downstairs, the smell of eggs and bacon wafting from the kitchen having reinvigorated my tired body. I smiled as I saw Uncle Barney in front of the stove. There was something endearing about watching a big bearded man like him in an apron, sashaying around in the cramped kitchen like he belonged there. Dad was seated at the dining table, slathering jam on his toast.
"Hey there birthday girl." Uncle Barney said in his usual gruff voice.
"Hi." I replied as I slid into a chair next to Dad and wished him a good morning.
"So," I said, drumming my fingers on the table. "How long until breakfast's ready?"
Uncle Barney playfully jabbed his spatula at me. "You must learn to be patient, little dragon. A chef needs time to create the perfect meal."
"Well, in that case," I began, "I'm gonna go outside and have a look around."
"What?" Dad asked, swiveling his neck to look at me. "Why?"
Because I just saw mom in my dream. I didn't tell him that. Bad idea, I know. But I knew that if I had told him he wouldn't let me set foot outside. And I really wanted to. To see the spot where I had imagined the lady standing and screaming the night before. To check and confirm whether the fence was still there. To try and see if my gaze could pierce through the dense woods and spot the grove where Mom… No, I definitely could'nt tell him that. No way.
Dad furrowed his brow. "Okay. But stay on the porch."
I nodded, grabbed a slice of bacon off the plate when Uncle Barney wasn't looking, eating it as I made my way out the front door.
It was bright outside, the sun was sucking away the water that had been clogging the ground. Puddles were drying up, their edges cracking with the heat. Even the stump with the Arabic carving, though soaked to the core, was starting to lose its moisture. The air was warm, fresh and made my skin tingle pleasantly. I grinned, stretched my limbs, gazed at the still-intact fence. And froze when I saw a figure walking next to it.
It was a woman. I narrowed my eyes, shielded my eyes from the sun with my hand and focused. My breath hitched when I saw who it was.
It was Mom.
She was gliding over the grass next to the fence with as much grace as she'd always had. She was glowing, like she was draped in sunlight itself. Her yellow sundress shimmered with each step, her long dark hair bouncing on her shoulders playfully. "Oh my god." I whispered.
She twirled, like a dancer, brushed her hair behind her ear and walked, running her hand over the now dirty white sheets tied to the barbed wire. She was so beautiful, so flush with life, unlike in the dream where she was cold, pale and rotting. Tears pooled in my eyes. "Mom..." I found myself saying.
Her head shot up, almost like she'd heard me. She bent over the wire, squinted, trying to see who it was that had called out to her. I sucked in my breath when she spotted me. She was looking at me, right at me with her honey-brown eyes. A smile danced on her lips, her face relaxing into an expression of such peace it warmed my heart. My mouth dropped open as she brought her arms up in front of her and gestured at me to come to her. It was a sight I was so intimately familiar with. How many times had I gone running into her arms when she'd spread them out like this? How many times had I fallen asleep in there, listening to her whisper sweet nothings into my ear as her warm hand gently patted the back of my head?
My body lurched involuntarily, and I took a step forward. I never even got the chance to say goodbye to her, she was taken from me in such a cruel and abrupt manner. Another step, and I felt the splinters of the wooden steps biting the soles of my feet. There was a voice gnawing at the back of my mind, telling me that this was really dangerous. I ignored it. Another step. Grass tickled my feet as they dug into the soft dirt. It should be fine, I told myself. I'm just trying to get a good look at her. To try and capture her visage with my eyes, sear it into my memory. Permanently. Another step. I was halfway between the house and the fence now. I could practically smell her. Just a little more and I could reach out and touch her too.
Another step. My leg bumped into something. I stumbled, looked down and saw that I had hit the stump. My brain felt fuzzy. Legs wobbling, I flopped down on the stump. What was I doing? This seemed to be quite reckless, didn't it? Was I doing this of my own volition, or was the Djinn dragging me out like the pied piper? I wanted to get close to Mom, but there were alarm bells going off all over my body, rattling my bones, trying to jolt me out of the dream like trance I was in.
"Ciara."
I could hear someone calling for me. But it sounded distant, like the voice was dropping down from the top of a tall building. Who was it? Was it Mom? Scalp tingling with sweat, I raised my eyes at her. Her lips were moving, but no sound came out. What?
"Ciara."
I felt heavy hands on my shoulders and my heartbeat boomed in my ears. Sound suddenly exploded around me. I hadn't even realised just how silent it had gotten. The chirping of the birds, rustling of leaves, Dad's laboured breathing, all rushed into my ears. All at once. Oh. It was Dad who was standing next to me, his hands wrapped tight around my shoulders. "Ciara. We need to go inside. Now." He looked terrified, shooting glances at Mom out of the corner of his eyes. So he could see her too.
"Yeah. Yeah, sure." I muttered as I took his clammy hand.
*
Uncle Barney had already laid out the breakfast for us by the time we went back in. "I saw what happened out there. That was really reckless." He said as we sat down at the dining table. Dad cupped his hands on his face and took a couple of very deep breaths.
I didn't say anything, just grabbed a glass of water with my trembling hands and took a sip. It was starting to hit me now, how close I'd gotten to leaving the safety of the fence. Just a few more steps, and… How could I have been so foolish?
"You can't be this careless, Ciara." Uncle Barney admonished me. "The more you let yourself be exposed to the Djinn's hallucinations, the more you become susceptible to them. If you keep on doing this, soon you won't be able to tell the difference between what's real and what's not. You're practically inviting the bastard into your head."
"Yeah. Yeah." I said, my head bowed in guilt.
"It's only a matter of one mistake. One misstep and…"
"Lay off her, Barney." Dad interrupted. "She gets it."
"I'm just looking out for her…"
"You're adding to the stress."
"I'm reminding her of how dangerous the situation is." Uncle Barney insisted.
Dad looked bewildered. "You think she doesn't know that? Goddamn it Barney. She just lost her mother. You really think she wouldn't be affected by it? Even I almost passed out when I saw her out there."
"I know. I know. I'm just…"
"I had a dream last night." I said, and they both immediately fell silent and turned their attention towards me. "Mom was there. In the dream." The words flooded out of my mouth as I rambled on about the horrible nightmare I'd had. Both of them had a deer caught in the headlights look on their faces by the time I finished.
"Woah!" Uncle Barney exclaimed. "It can even invade your dreams?"
Dad's eyes flitted around as he tried to make sense if it all. "The Djinn showed her that nightmare to make her feel despair. To get her at her lowest point. At her most vulnerable. Seeing her mother like that, he knew it would take a toll on her. And so he used that vulnerability against her, showing her what Zoe used to be like in her prime. To get her guard down and have her leave the barrier."
"A carrot and stick approach." Uncle Barney whispered. "Jesus."
He tugged at his beard. Forcefully. "We need to stick together as much as possible."
Dad nodded. "Yeah. I don't know why I let her exit the house alone."
"Another result of the Djinn's machinations?"
"I don't know... What do you think?"
"What I think?" Uncle Barney sighed. "I think we've been severely underestimating what the Djinn is capable of. We need to be more cautious. Way more cautious."
Dad nodded thoughtfully, then focused on me. "Ciara, honey. I'm sorry for saying this again. But please, please be careful."
I answered with an eager nod. But I wish I had told him to listen to his own warnings instead, because if he had, then things wouldn't have gone to absolute hell later that day.
M
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2020.09.18 15:36 Seamus5150 Caught naked by mother in law

Original Post link. I apologize as it was poorly written and contextualized, as I was inebriated most of that Thursday.
https://www.reddit.com/survivinginfidelity/comments/iqrtds/i_43m_need_to_send_a_letter_of_thanks_to_dyson_i/
So... I have received nearly 1,000 requests for some type of update or information on what's going on in my pain and hate filled life. Per my new therapist, he said to go ahead and do it. It will help me re-center and focus.
To those that kept saying "ThaT's NoT HoW SnApChAt WoRkS" Yes, you are correct, she had that running in the background, it was Whats app. I don't really give a shit, I saw it. I again need to thank Dyson for their app and the kick ass fan I got from my Brother in law for Christmas.
Here goes.
I'm going to give a deeper background on our situation to help with some perspective on why I feel the way I do. My original post was pretty much a stream of consciousness and felt as disjointed as I did then.
I went to college in Las Vegas in the mid '90's. I graduated in 1999. I had a blast there. I "Got Around" (Fucked) It was during this formative time I decided to never marry, it was/is an outdated concept that essentially removes your agency, and, I definitely did NOT want children.
When I graduated with my degree in Nursing, I quickly excelled in Cardiovascular Intensive Care. I moved home to Texas in 2001 and pursued my Masters Degree to be an Advanced Practice RN/ Nurse Practitioner with a specialization in CV Surgery. While I was achieving this, I decided to pursue medical school and shifted course work to fill in what I needed to apply. It was then that I met my STBXW. She was a short chubby (I believe the kids today would say THICC) red headed fire cracker. We met in a code. It was intense; both the attraction and the "Dating." We were saying I LOVE YOU within 3 months...
She was a mother of two (Remember, I wanted to be child free) that had been divorced for about 2 years. She was just getting out of an on again off again relationship when we met. We "Dated" for about 2 years and she slowly introduced her daughters to me age (11,6). She sat me down one night and gave me a pretty heartfelt but pragmatic talk about "Us" or where we were at the time, and what she needed/expected from me, or any other partner. Essentially she said it was time to either get married or move on. I was still pretty anti-marriage and she respected that. She was telling me this to give me a chance to think about "Us" and what the future looked like. She had a pretty good point in that we were living together (8 months) and even had each other as persons to notify in an emergency, she joked, that all that was missing was having each other on our insurance. It was a good honest talk and we agreed that we would continue on for a bit more, but, I would ultimately have to make "The Decision."
2 weeks later, I had an acceptance letter to a Medical school about 2 hours away. I was extatic and crushed at the same time. I had just had my 26th Birthday and was about to accomplish a huge life goal! Then I realized I'd never see her or the girls. My self doubt got the better of me. Being a medical student, then resident, with a fellowship was going to be a roughly 7 year process, all the while, I could not make the money or support the lifestyle we had grown accustomed to. I thought about the prospect of at least 7 years of loans, debt, and work, and losing her...
So I declined and switched back to a Masters in Nursing Administration.
We got married in July of 2003 it was an intimate and personal ceremony with just immediate family and friends.
---While my parents adore the girls (Rightly so) they have always been stand-offish with STBXW. On Monday when I told my parents what was happening, and, that there was a real possibility the girls could stop being as prevalent in their life as they have been, they told me that they felt that STBXW was damaged goods being married prior to and "Forcing me to compromise." That really hit home, and to a certain extent they were/are correct.---
After I graduated I didn't want to be a manager or director. I'm a hands on guy that likes taking care of patients. The hospital I was at offered a certification in ECMO and a Perfusionist credential. It was a highly competitive application, but I got in. For the past 11 years, I have been doing ECMO and all things related. I have had a blast and it has been challenging as well as heartbreaking at times.
My STBXW decided about 5 years ago that being an RN on the floor had run its course and she wanted a more 9 to 5 job that did not involve patients or drama. She got on through a friend at a multi-state legal consultancy that specializes in medical legal suites. She abstracts data from patient charts and presents it in the manner requested.
So that's the set up.
On Saturday morning DDay+2: I only slept a few hours. I had dark, disturbing thoughts regarding my future and life. I had (Still do) thoughts and scenarios of death and violence upon them and myself...
I was in the kitchen making breakfast, eggs and toast, when she walked into the kitchen still bleary eyed. She asked if I would make her some... I threw it in the trash in front of her. I then proceeded to load up my record player and play music from my youth at an uncomfortable volume to prevent her from trying to talk to me. (Real mature I know). I began Pain Shopping big time, reading the print out in chronological order. I do and I don't recommend it, by the afternoon I was done with Blackflag and Danzig, I was listening to torch / break up songs by Chris Isaak and Ray Lamontagne. She approached again. This time she was almost indignant. Asking what purpose notifying the AP's wife served. I stared at her for what felt like an inappropriate amount of time, a bit dumb founded. I told her point blank that at least she (AP's wife) would get the chance to make an informed decision about her future instead of compromising and sacrificing for someone that would betray them so selfishly. I guess my message to the AP's wife was received and things were not good for him. She sat down on the couch and began to tear up and sob. I told her I was cried out, or more correctly I was so numb that I will do that later, when I am done doing what needs to be done. She asked timidly, all indignation / bravado gone from her voice, what else I "Had to do?" I told her to ruin your life and give you the pain I have now. I told her that if she had ANY respect for me or "Love" for me, she would open her phone and show me EVERYTHING. She refused and said that it didn't matter and all I would do is hold it against her. I said, there was a part of me, the completionist in me, that wanted to know. She refused and went to the guest bedroom. I found her HR, new hire paperwork from her company. They have a corporate compliance line and I called and left a detailed message. They (STBXW and AP) had discussed client information that also had protected health information with an unsecured, non-approved messaging system. I also informed them that she was his acting supervisor on 2 projects over a certain time that corresponds with the sexually inappropriate messages. Lastly I said that they both used their subsidized phones to transmit pornographic materials (Pics, sexting, videos.) That was a big no no as well.
My whole life, I have viewed myself as a peaceful and rational man. This has broken that part of me. I don't know where all of this anger has come from, I am somewhat worried. Like, will it stop. I know in the long run, to "Get over this" I will have to accept her apology and forgive her for her mistakes...I just don't know if I am capable, and it is worrying to me.
That evening I continued to notify family and friends of the situation and her actions. I called a physician friend and requested a favor for a checkup and an STD check. He had questions, I answered. My eyes got heavy around 8.
Sunday DDay+3: I decided to drive to see the girls. They are about 3 hours away. The youngest is still in college for another semester (maybe longer, thanks 2020.)
I have been having pretty extreme feelings about them since this began. I have formed a respectful, friendly relationship with them, but not much of a "Fatherly" one. The oldest especially. We are cordial, but, there is always that "Your NOT my dad" vibe between us. The youngest, not so much, but, when they are together, it gets more prevalent. I left early Sunday around 5 AM, arrived at their condo (Their father pays for it) just after 845. I had Kolaches and good coffee for them. They were immediately worried about their mother before I said anything. I told them point blank the situation and that their mother would probably be moving in the next 3 to 6 months. I can honestly say it was best to do and say this in person. I told them EVERYTHING. They were disappointed in her. I then told them that I wasn't there to get them to take a side, but, they were adults in a special circumstance within our relationship, and if they decided they didn't want to interact or have a relationship with me that was OK, I would be somewhat let down, but also relieved. I told them however, that our relationship or lack thereof should not interfere with their grandparents (My parents.) They both agreed that they would like to definitely keep in touch with the grandparents. I left there around 11 and headed home. I stopped at my best friends house and cried a little... I had essentially help to raise them as best I could. Their father was absentee most of their childhood and started another family 6 hours away. My best friend decided that I had drank enough the past 72 hours, and I needed to sleep. I crashed at his place that night. I had noticed STBXW had been blowing my phone up after I had left the girls place. Oh well, I was too tired and in too dark a place to care.
Monday DDay+4: I arrived home around 8 and noticed her Porsche was still there... I thought for a moment that she Uber'd or Waze'd to the airport. No, no she had not. She was up and had breakfast made, she asked me to sit down and eat with her. I did. She asked how it tasted, I told her like static. I told her I've had a hard time tasting and feeling anything other than bitterness and anger, for the past 5 days... She had called in "Sick" at work, and did not leave for her quarterly meeting. She tried to start talking about how worried she was for me and that she loved me so much. She had gotten a call from her oldest yesterday around noon and they were deeply disturbed by her behavior. I laughed... as I did it, I realized it was not a funny laugh. It had a manic kind of feel to it and took me aback. I said Oh, you "Love" me so much you have a year and a half affair behind my back. You "Love" me so much you fuck some other married man. You "Love" me so much you pissed away nearly half of my life because... She had never given me a reason as to why she did it. I told her that, and it made it so much worse. I went to the liquor service and pulled out "The Bottle."
---"The Bottle" was an 18 year Glenfiddich that my grandfather bought for "Us" when we got married. It has been/was our tradition to have a small sip on our anniversary night and remember that things get better with time and patience.---
I chugged the remainder of it. It was about a third of the bottle that was left. I said, sorry I didn't offer her any, because she did NOT deserve any. I went to the bedroom and began pulling all of the pictures off of the wall that had us or her in them. I placed them on the kitchen table. She had left. My attorney or rather her paralegal called to notify me the Petition for Divorce was ready, and I needed to sign off on it before it could be filed and STBXW would be served within 10 business days. I read it quickly, while VERY buzzed on premium Scotch. E-Signed and pressed send. I also got a message from the AP's wife. She reluctantly thanked me for this "Horrible but good revelation." She declined to speak with me, but wanted to message me to tell me. She found texts and videos with other women besides my STBXW. She kicked him out, and was going to an attorney soon. (They live in California, he's fucked.) I proceeded to listen to music and have a few more drinks. I fell asleep around 4 in the afternoon. I heard her come home around 10, she saw the pile of pictures and things that had at one time meant "Something" to "Us." She began sobbing and asking me to talk to her, I only asked one question "Why?" She kept saying she didn't know. I called her vile things and said that she made SO many decisions to get to just the first text. It was she that started it. I was pretty loose with my tounge due to being drunk. I laughed at her and started taking off my clothes and said you threw away this pointing to my body, (I'm going to get shit for it, but, I'm 6'4" and weigh 200#, up until last week I still jogged and lifted weights 4 times a week) for some pot bellied needle dick guy that wasn't going to do anything for her. I went to my room and had a shower. When I got out, she was in the bed naked. She had lit some candles and begged me to fuck her. I turned on my camera and told her to repeat what she said (I thank everyone who mentioned doing this, just in case) For whatever reason, my erection did not do a good job of convincing her that I didn't want to. So, I did it. I was NOT kind. I put her in uncomfortable positions and pounded her. I told her I wanted anal, and I wanted to hear her beg me for it. I recorded it ALL. I felt so many mixed emotions after. I love her, and I am indifferent to her, I hate her, and I think nothing of her. I want her and feel like I need her, but It hurts me to think of "Us" anymore. We fell asleep together. I woke up kind of hung over and had a hard time looking at myself in the mirror.
Tuesday DDay+5: Therapy was a 2 and a half hour session, unbeknownst to me, she followed me there and wanted to know what I was doing. I told her I was getting some therapy for the emotional trauma I had after realizing I had thrown away most of my life on someone who couldn't even give me a reason as to why she would cheat on me. I was a little loud and teary eyed. My soon to be new therapist saw most of the exchange. I called her horrible names and told her I wished her dead. Needless to say my session was intense. He prescribed some sedatives for me and I had another shorter appointment scheduled on Thursday. We discussed my anger and betrayal, my emasculation, my fear of the future. I explained I am terrified of the unknown. Last week I felt like a complete man. I had a vision and goals, I also had a partner to deal with any issues and obstacles. Now, I am a ship without a rudder, or mast. I feel no sense of direction, or power, or means to get away from this. He started explaining the "Why" that I wanted to know. It isn't a single question. It is a series of questions that is pretty interesting. I suppose you can apply it to any behavior that you want to explain the motivation behind it. He said instead I should calmly ask my STBXW, what within herself gave her permission to do this to me. There were several more to follow up with, but, this is what stuck out the most. I told him about the sex, he recommended that I lay out explicit ground rules regarding our physical relationship. He ultimately recommended that I don't do it anymore, it would confuse and exacerbate things tremendously, unless reconciliation was my goal. I cried, I raged. I left exhausted. STBXW was still outside waiting for me. I walked past her and didn't respond to her questions and pleading. I got a call from the physician's office to get tested and went to that appointment. I told him the short version. He recommended to stop drinking and take the sedatives cautiously. I went home and proceeded to continue removing my things from the house and boxing them up. I have decided I would move out. I called work and requested a face to face meeting. The thought of working, or concentrating on legitimate life and death issues is not possible in my current state of mind. I drove to the Administrative building at the hospital, met with the team and formally gave my 6 weeks resignation. I have such a niche, specialized job that 6 weeks is kind of a minimum courtesy. I put it succinctly that my STBXW's actions had caused a stressful home life, and I would be a detriment to patients, the team, and myself if I continued to remain in this area. I have decided to move away. Far away. I got home after picking up some groceries. It has been about a week since I have had more than a mouthful of food and have existed on liquor and not much else. I took both my therapists, and physician friends' advice and decided to make some food and stop drinking. She was home, sitting in the darkened living room drinking wine. She had organized the pictures and was looking through them. She had put on makeup and was wearing a "Date Night" dress. She had been crying alot. her makeup was in bad shape. She got up and tried to embrace me. I pushed her gently away and made a production of pulling out my phone and hitting record. She started crying again. She told me the AP's wife had called her and told her that he had had other women as well as her. She said that she was so much the fool and every derogatory name I had called her was right. She begged me to consider "Us." I said why bother, she didn't when she betrayed me. I told her I was sorry that her lies caught her out, but I felt that she was sorry she got caught, not remorseful for what she did to me. I told her I felt she was sorry that she was going to have to start over and that she was more upset about that, than losing any "Love" she had for me. I said that she abandoned her "Love" for me or "Us" 2 YEARS ago when she decided to do this. I kept piling it on her. I informed her of my call to the Corporate Compliance line and the specific rules she broke. I didn't raise my voice or act angry. I was shaking a bit, but it was like everything was leaving me in a rush. I felt elated and so low at the same time. I felt empty when I was done. I put up the few groceries I had bought and made a small sandwich, then went to bed. She was there again. I pulled out my phone and told her with the recorder going what my therapist had talked about in regards to sex. Keep in mind in 17 years, I can not recall a time when I've refused or declined sex from her. I asked her to leave and sleep in the guest bedroom. She refused. I said, fine, I would then.
Wednesday DDay+6: I woke up and she was curled up next to me. I removed myself and did some light exercises. I have been working on my resume and getting applications out. I might be working in Seattle by the end of the year! I love my parents and will miss being 20 minutes away from them, especially as they are becoming elderly. I can't stay in this city. The thought of "Running into" her after this is over is not something I want to entertain. I want to be free, and have NO reminders of my sense of loss and my lifetime of compromise. It was a pretty blah day and it rained off and on for most of it. I met up with my best friend and gave him a rundown over an early dinner. We decided not to drink. My attorney said that me moving away will not affect the outcome of the financials. I am going to live off my PTO until the end of October, and use my half of our liquid savings to relocate and settle. I feel empty and I am trying to laugh at his funny jokes, but it's an effort. I keep finding myself in a deep emptiness that has such a powerful pull. I have never thought about ending my own life, but for the past few days/nights I've had "Daydreams'' of what it would be like if I wasn't here. I am going to tell my therapist tomorrow. STBXW has been going to the library (I've been watching through Google) and reading relationship books. I have been reading Chump Lady. It is great stuff. She got a call from her work. I eavesdropped on a small portion of it, but I know she has a meeting tomorrow, despite her claiming to be "Sick." She was in bed again just like the past few nights. I am so conflicted, I just want to feel something, but I feel so little but hate and resentment for her, that the only sex I want is sadistic. I'll admit that during the abusive sex we had Monday I felt almost a runners high, but, there was a crash, and the next day I was angry at myself. I am doubting myself a small amount in regards to not wanting her back. I know she fucked up huge, but I don't know if I can forget it, or forgive it. I am a tangled mess. I told her the ground rules, with my phone recording, in regard to sex. I told her that it did NOT indicate reconciliation, or some covert signal that I wanted that. I told her this is probably hysterical bonding and not healthy. I told her that I was going to not be gentle nor care about her feelings or needs during it. She was teary eyed, and nodded understanding. She quietly said that she "Deserved it." She then rolled over and got on all 4's.
Thursday DDay+7: I woke up with her spooning me. I laid there for a while and heard her breathing change pattern. I could feel her looking at me. I asked with my back turned what her meeting was going to be about? She said it was an HR representitive and it was probably going to be bad. I said yup. She asked what she could do to make us right or equal again. I said nothing. She offered an open marriage on my end, she would not persue anyone, but I could. I chuckled, no. I don't trust her. She said that was fair. We had this conversation with my back to her, it was easier than looking at her. I get mad when I see her face. I asked what I did in this marriage that made her so unhappy she did this. She said I was beyond great. I chuckled again, well obviously that dosent matter. She said it was an adventure, like she lived off of the rush, she didn't realize until it was way too late that if she got caught or if something went wrong everyone would be hurt, she said it was a huge relief and an unforgettable pain when I confronted her. I got up and made us breakfast. I went to my therapist and told him my plan with work and already had responses to my applications. I told him everything about STBXW and the sex. We discussed my suicdal thoughts and talked about the process invlved with them. Again, he wasn't judging; he just wanted me to not get confused, or if I did not understand to stop and process. It was only a 1 hour (55 minute) session and I felt that weird calm again. Like nothing matters for now. everything just is. When I got home she was sitting in the living room. She told me that she was fired for breach of protocol with client information and violation of the data security protocols. I said, well that's too bad. I exercised and made a nice dinner, she joined me. We did'nt say much. While we were sitting in the living room she told me that AP had been fired as well. I said good. She told me she has had no contact with him in 5 days. I asked why not? They were both free now. She could fly out to her "Soul Mate" and have all the fun they wanted now. She said I was the only one she wanted. I said NO, you had me ALL of me, and it still was'nt enough. I told her that in the nearly 20 years of work, and our relationship, I had been approached and hit on too many times to count. I managed to not fall in love or fuck anyone else, now, I am so bitter and angry because of the compromises I made. She asked what compromises. I told her. My wanting to go to medical school, but decided to get married and be stable, my not wanting children, but, because they were a part of her, I accepted them and compromised. I said I made those compromises for our love. But, obviously I had misplaced my trust and love in her. I told her that if I could go back in time, I would tell 26 year old me to pass her up. She asked again what she could do to bring us back together. I told her that I will not EVER compromise for her again and that means we really can't have a healthy relationship. I told her I would NEVER love her again, and that at best, I would treat her like a sex toy. Otherwise, she would'nt factor into my plans or thoughts. I told her it was just a week ago, she was the first person I thought of when I woke up, and the last person I thought about when I went to sleep. Now it hurts too much to think about her.
I am going to walk away from this. I feel like it is starting to constantly remind me of things. I can not thank those kind people I could chat with and who shared their pain and stories that have helped me. This has been on a whole, a good thing for me to do, but I keep replaying things and feelings I'd rather just walk away from. I remain confused about what I want. I don't know if I will ever be 100% about anything with Her ever again. I have bi-weekly appointments for the next 4 weeks with my therapist.
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2020.09.11 19:56 McSinister5674 Caught naked by mother in law

No matter where you go or what kind of times you live in, the one thing that nearly every human being, whether you’re talking about men or women, young or old, has in common is desire. Desire of the physical and sexual sort of course but on a deeper level the desire to be cared about and loved, and it's that desire that feeds me. Who am I you might be wondering? Well you can call me Remy, it’s not the name I was born with but it's what everyone calls me so you might as well too. I’m what’s been called an Incubus, or a sex demon if you’re feeling particularly racist, and that desire is my life.
I’ve been called evil in the past, mostly by miserable assholes that want everyone else to be as miserable as them, but I don’t let it phase me, and you shouldn’t either. Trust me, my “victims” if you really want to call them that never go through any kind of pain, I hate violence and avoid it unless it’s absolutely necessary. In fact, they get to experience absolute bliss in the arms of the lover they always wanted while I get to feed on that wonderful life energy they won’t need anymore before they pass away like they’re falling asleep. Isn’t that how everybody wants to go? I’m doing a public service if you ask me.
Anyways I digress. My life isn’t all fun and games. Dead bodies, even of those that died happily tend to make people upset, and upset people ask questions, the kind of questions that make living in one place pretty difficult, so I move around a lot. The nomadic lifestyle has its perks, one of which is seeing far off and exotic places, and on the night my life changed forever, I was in one such exotic place, Ambia, The City in the Clouds.
Or more specifically, I was in some lowbrow club on the lower levels of the massive airships’s Engine Quarter, where the working class citizens of Ambia toiled long hours for shitty wages maintaining the City’s intricate propulsion systems so the whole damn thing didn’t plommet down to the ground below at the behest of wealthy politicians and a bloated, corrupt clergy. It was the kind of place where poverty and discontent walked hand in hand, where people felt trapped and hopeless, drinking away their stress and sorrow while they silently prayed that something, anything, would come along to make their lives worth living. In other words, it was the perfect place for me.
I had walked in and just sat down as I usually did, ordered a drink, and listened to the pulsating beats of the music around me while I waited for someone to talk to me. Someone always did. Now at this point you might be asking yourself what a sex demon looks like, since I always got somebody’s attention pretty much wherever I went and I wish I could tell you but to be honest I’m not entirely sure. Some legends will tell you that an Incubus is a shape-shifter, but this isn’t really true. People see in me what they desire, either sexually or emotionally, and everybody is different. Most everyone sees a man when they look at me, though that isn’t always the case. I once had a guy compliment my tits, that had been an interesting night. Aside from that, everything about me varies depending on who’s looking at me. Some people think I’m tall with red hair, others think I’m short and stocky with thick blond hair, there really isn’t any consistency, and I’ve never seen anything when I look in the mirror, just a blank space where a person should be. I guess it just comes with the territory.
On this particular night I was first approached by a plain looking man who spoke to me nervously and quietly, like he was doing something wrong merely by striking up a conversation. I was a bit surprised when he mentioned a wife, since by his slightly effeminate manner of speech and the fact that he kept stealing glances at my crotch throughout our converstion it seemed pretty clear he was a homosexual, but that kind of thing was fairly common in Ambia since the ruling clergy looked at intimate relations between men less than favourably. I didn't really mind. I have no particular preferences with humans when it comes to gender, a man's life force is just as nourishing as a woman's and variety is the slice of life. We talked for about an hour before he worked up the courage to ask if I wanted to go home with him, and I put on my most convincing excited face before I agreed.
We left the club and walked out onto the dimly lit street. The open sky wasn’t visible from the depths of the Engine Quarter, just the massive gears and serpentine metal supports that made up the skeleton of the city above. The only sources of light down here were the neon lights of the bars, clubs, brothels, and the Engine Core at the center of the Quarter.
It’s a reactor of sorts as far as I know, though I’m not a scientist or any other kind of egghead so don’t quote me on that. It stands towering above all the other structures in the Quarter and has a pale blue light at the top of that sort of looks like a miniature sun, though I think it’s much prettier than the real thing. I found myself staring at it absentmindedly as I paced down the crowded street past an assortment of rough looking types.
Drug-dealers, jaded looking hookers and their pimps, criminals looking to disappear into the crowd, and a few sorry sons of bitches that just didn’t have a roof to put over their heads passed by as I walked with this guy who’s name I can't recall and half-heartedly listened to as he spoke to me. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I was just really off my game that night in light of some weird shit that had been going on in my life not long before that, but I’ll cover that later.
Anyway we walked west from the club I think, passed a couple intersections while he talked my ear off about this and that, the usual stuff mostly, his shitty job crunching numbers for a boss he hated up in the Cloud Quarter where all the fat cats of Ambia lived the literal high life among the clouds, his deteriorating relationship with his wife who was getting more and more suspicious about his preferences, and the deep hole of debt he was in financially. I nodded and responded with a reassuring word when it was necessary, but my mind just wasn’t all there. When we finally did get back to his place I was a bit surprised by how nice it was.
Most folks that lived in the Engine Quarter could barely afford a run-down one bedroom apartment but this guy’s house was pretty posh, had a voice activated steel gate and everything. Beyond that was a modest driveway that led to a small yet upscale looking two-story house, the interior of which was painstakingly decorated to look like the inside of a house you’d see in the Cloud Quarter, clean and tidy with a few paintings on the walls that were probably very skilled forgeries of some paintings done by a handful of Ambia’s famous artists.
We barely got through the door before he pushed me up against a wall and started planting awkward, sloppy kisses on my neck and lower jaw while I more or less just went through the motions. I’m not one to kiss and tell so I won’t go into the raunchy details, but what I will say is that he surrendered his soul sooner than most. The whole ordeal took maybe 15 minutes.
His soul tasted bittersweet, almost like blueberries, which didn't come as much of a surprise, the really lonely ones always did.
After I'd eaten my fill, I pushed the freshly made dead man off my chest where he had been laying and made my way out of the house and back onto the street, trying not to be too conspicuous as I did.
I wasn't too worried about being noticed since I was pretty much positive that no one would ever be able to give an accurate description of me, but my Dad always used to tell me you could never be too careful, and before you ask, yes I had a father like just like anybody else and sure he was a black hearted bastard with a taste for dark sorcery and wanton cruelty, but he had smart shit to say every now and again.
I glanced at my watch after I made it back onto the crowded, trash filled street which read 10:45pm. Since the night was still young and I was still a bit hungry I made my way over to The Thirst, a dilapidated old building that I'm told used to be a pretty upscale resort of some kind back when the Engine Quarter was still the kind of place where respectable types came to spend their money.
Nowadays however it was just another seedy nightclub, though it was the closest thing you could get down here to a classy establishment.
I went there fairly often against my better judgement. I had a rule not to pick up too many people from the same place, since that would make it fairly obvious to any body who might be investigating my particular career where I liked to hang out, but there was just something about the place that made me keep coming back.
Maybe it was the ambiance, maybe it was the surprisingly good food and cheap liquor, or maybe it was Mel, that good natured if slightly jaded woman that stood behind the bar who always poured and mixed my drinks just right, and could always make me laugh when I was having a bad night.
That night she had a look that was somewhere between deeply concerned, and disappointed on her face as I made my way up to the bar counter. When she spoke to me, She had the tone of a mother questioning a child that had been up to no good.
" What the Hell have you been doing Remy?"
I did my best to sound both surprised and indignant with my response.
" What the Hell are you talking about Mel? I ain't done anything to anybody and whoever says otherwise is a damn liar!"
She didn’t believe me, but instead of pressing me further, she let out an exasperated sigh and said
“ That girl’s been back in here asking about you, and Justicars have been in here asking about her.”
I didn’t think it was possible to fit so much bad news into a single sentence like that. If you don’t know what a Justicar is you should count yourself lucky, because that means you’ve probably never met one. In theory, they’re supposed to be the black armored keepers of law and order in Ambia but in reality they are better described as mentally unhinged sociopaths with severe inferiority complexes and high end plasma weapons.
I’ve done a pretty good job of avoiding them so far, but hearing that they’ve been poking around my favorite club is more than a little unnerving, and the girl... well, the girl is complicated.
I think her name’s Tina or something close to that. Definitely starts with a T. I met her here at the Thirst a few months ago when I first got to Ambia. I remember that she had this fish out of water look on her face when I spotted her from where I sat at the bar, like she'd never been in a nightclub before.
She wasn't the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, but she was most certainly not ugly either. Her brown hair was about shoulder length, and her soft blue eyes had a strange way of holding your attention. She looked like she took care of herself, far too much so for her to have been from the Engine Quarter, and she carried herself like she came from money.
Perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps out of sheer boredom, I approached her rather than waiting for her to approach me.
We hit it off pretty well and got to talking for what must have been hours. I don't remember the details clearly but she told me her father was some kind of big shot up in the Cloud Quarter and that she hated his fucking guts. According to her he was an oppressive piece of shit that tried to control every aspect of her life from what kind of studies she was allowed to pursue to what kind of clothes she was allowed to wear, and that she had come down to the very bowels of Ambia to escape from him, if only for a little while.
Having had first hand experience with terrible fathers myself, I found that pretty easy to relate to and shared with her some things I had hated about my own father without giving away too much about myself.
She seemed really taken with me by the end of our conversation, which wasn't unusual, but what was unusual was that I almost felt bad about what I knew would happen to her later that night, and that wasn't very much like me at all.
We left the club an hour or two before dawn. I remember her clutching my arm tenderly as we walked through the dark streets toward the shabby hotel room I was renting under a false name at the time. Up to this point, this had been a routine night for me, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary from picking someone up at a club at the beginning of the night, to the sex back at the hotel room with the intent of satisfying what some have called my “unholy appetites” at the end of the night.
What had been unusual, or rather what should not have been possible was that I had been unable to devour her soul during our intimate encounter. She survived the entire process seemingly unscathed, in fact she didn't even seem to notice my attempts to leech her life force. It was almost like she radiated some kind of power that nullified my own.
That had never happened even once before. In my several centuries of existence I'd never met anyone that was immune to my powers like she seemed to be, and it fucking terrified me.
Not really knowing what else to do, I left the room as soon as she fell asleep and haven't seen her since. I had hoped that once she got over her hurt feelings she would return to the Cloud Quarter and get on with her life in a place where I would never have to see her again, but it seemed that she was much more tenacious than I thought she would be.
Over the past few months, I've heard through the grapevine that she'd been going to almost every night club in the Engine Quarter searching for me, and bringing the Justicars down here after her by the sound of it for some reason.
The whole thing was turning into a huge fucking mess. That kind of attention on my feeding grounds made life very hard for me, and I didn't like that one bit.
I sat there thinking about what rotten fucking luck I'd had in this city, and trying to think of a way out of it for a few minutes before Mel's expectant and irritated voice brought me back to reality.
"Well? What do you got to say about all this shit Remy? I can't have the law coming in here every other night looking for one of your little spurned sweethearts! It's killing my business!"
" She's not a "spurned sweetheart" Mel. This shit is just a big misunderstanding."
I said defensively.
"Well then why don't you explain that to her next time you see her."
" I'm not really trying to run into her again"
"Well, it's too late for that."
She replied with a smirk as she gestured to something behind me. My heart sank even before I heard that familiar voice call out to me.
"Remy!"
I turned around on the bar stool to see that same girl with the soft blue eyes from months earlier pushing almost desperately through the crowd to reach me and I cringed a little inside.
I turned back around and tried to make myself as small as possible while Mel giggled at my expense.
"You're a cold-hearted bitch Mel."
I groaned.
"And you're a sleazy shit stain."
She shot back. I didn't really have a comeback for that. Instead I just let out a deep sigh and turned around just in time to come face to face with Tina or whatever her name was, prepared to break her heart a for second time and get on with my night.
She looked absolutely ecstatic to see me. Which made what I was going to say all the more awkward.
"Remy! I've been looking for you forever! We need to talk.."
"Listen.. Tina." I started
"Tanya" she corrected looking slightly perplexed by my mistake.
"Tanya… that was a one time thing. I don't want to hurt your feelings but I'm not really looking to get deeply involved with someone right now.."
"No Remy, you don't understand we need to talk about something serious..."
"Well we're talking right now, say what you need to."
" I'd rather talk about this in private, I think I'm being followed and what I have to say can't reach the wrong ears."
She said in a deathly serious tone
I feel like I should say at this point that it's very hard to creep out an Incubus, but I was starting to get creepy vibes from this whole situation nevertheless and I was mentally calculating my escape route when a bright bolt of white hot plasma ripped through my left shoulder and sent me tumbling to the floor.
A sharp piercing scream rang out over the club music and I saw people scrambling in every direction to get away from the source of the shot.
It had been at least a few decades since the last time somebody had tried to murder me, so I was really out of practice when it came to processing pain, and holy shit did that plasma hurt. The wound had cauterized on it’s own almost instantly, which was the only up side of getting shot with modern weapons these days.
Excruciating pain filled my senses and time seemed to slow around me as adrenaline kicked in and I became hyper aware of everything happening around me. I was in a very literal sense seeing red. My eyes had turned from their typical color into the deep red glow of a demon in the throes of rage, and my face contorted into something terrifying and only vaguely human, at least I think it did. The look of sheer shock and abject terror that spread across Tanya’s face as she stared at me writhing in agony on the ground told me that whatever I looked like to her was not normal.
I stayed low to the ground and crawled across the floor with the kind of unnatural speed and grace one would see in a spider as I ducked and weaved through the crowd of people trying to escape the club. I spotted the first of my enemies standing over by one of the loudspeakers that pumped music into the club. He was a tall guy in a dark jacket with a hood pulled across his face. In his right hand he brandished a sleek looking black handgun with a brightly glowing energy cell where the magazine should have been.
I’d seen guns like that down here before. It was the kind of compact plasma weapon that was incredibly popular with the drug dealers and professional killers of the Engine Quarter. Since it seemed pretty clear that he wasn’t here to sell me drugs it was pretty obvious to me which one of those groups he belonged to.
The DJ who had been playing the clubs music had run out the front door as soon as the first shot had been fired leaving the music machines unattended, and as I got close enough to pounce on my attacker, the next song that had been queued up to play rang out over the loudspeakers, and the fast paced techno beats and sad, heartbroken lyrics of a remixed version of Deadmau 5’s Raise your Weapon acted as the soundtrack to our battle.
“ Ripping my heart was so easy, so easy”
A soft, feminene voice sang as I lunged up from the floor at the hooded killer in a frenzy, my hands transforming from typical human hands into long serrated black claws. He saw me at the last second and tried to fire off another shot of plasma. But I knocked the gun out of his hand and sent it clattering to the floor before I grabbed his left shoulder, sinking my claws into his flesh as I did, and pushed the claws of my right hand into the soft skin under his chin and up into his skull. He twitched and thrashed around in my grip as he died, and I was slightly disgusted by the wet, slick feeling of the blood and brains on my claws as I retracted them.
As the dead man fell to the floor I made a mental note to wash my hands before I left the club just in time to spot another hooded man who could have been a carbon copy of the first one, right down to the sleek black pistol standing by the entrance let out a shriek of surprise before firing a volley of bright plasma bolts at me and giving me no choice but to jump behind an overturned table nearby for cover.
“ Launch your assault now, take it easy”
Thinking quickly I ripped off a leg of the table and threw it at the second assailant hoping to impale him with it.
I wasn't that lucky, though it did manage to hit him square in the face. He yelped in pain and I could hear the sound of his nose breaking as he tumbled backwards. I took the opportunity to leap over the table as fast as I was able, which was in fact pretty damn fast, I doubt anybody watching the fight would have been able to follow my movements with their naked eyes but again I digress.
I was on the man before he had a chance to react and I used my claws to stick him like a pin cushion as many times as could before something hard and blunt struck my temple and filled my vision with white spots.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon."
Depending on how you looked at it, those particular lyrics of the song were either very well timed, or timed very poorly because when my vision cleared up enough for me to see who hit me I was greeted by the sight of yet another hooded hit man, though this one only vaguely resembled the other two.
He was at least two or three feet taller than the others and his muscles were fucking massive. They bulged through his jacket., it was not at all an exaggeration to say that he looked like a leather wrapped rhino on steroids.

In his hands he held what looked like a length of metal pipe, and I didn't really have a lot of time to reflect on how unprofessional it was for a professional killer to be using a fucking metal pipe before he raised it back over his head and swung at me again.
"One word and it's over."
I rolled out the way of the incoming blow and sliced out a chunk of the hooded behemoth's ankle as I rolled behind him.
I think I managed to cut his Achilles tendon because he fell over onto the floor gripping his ankle as he groaned in pain. I got a bit over confident after that, and tried to leap on top of the man and rip him to shreds like I had my previous attacker.
" Ripping through like a missile”
He flipped onto his back and caught me with both hands just before the impact and rolled the both of us over again so I was pinned under him while he started pummeling me with his huge fists. As blow after blow hit my face and I felt some of my teeth dislodge I decided that without a doubt this was the worst night I’d had in years, maybe even centuries. I tried to shield my face with my claws, but he hit way too hard and too fast than somebody his size should have been able to and I couldn’t do much about it. I started to see stars and black spots everywhere as the conscious world seemed to slip away from me.
"Ripping through my heart"
A deafening bang rang out from somewhere above me and the punches stopped almost as quickly as they had began. Warm blood and viscera spilled all over my face and I choked back the urge to vomit as I looked up to see half of my attackers head completely blown off.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon, and it's over."
Spitting some broken teeth out of my mouth, I used all the strength I had left to push the giant corpse off me as the music died down and the club fell silent.
I wondered what the fuck had just happened for maybe a moment before I looked over in the direction the sound had come from to see Mel standing nearby with an annoyed look on her face and a fucking smoking sawed-off shotgun of all things in her hands. I didn't think they still made those anymore since this was my first time seeing one in like forty years.
I let out a relieved sigh and made another mental note to give Mel a tip next time I bought a drink here.
" Mel, have I ever told you you're an angel?" I exclaimed with a grin.
"Take your little girlfriend and get the fuck out of my club before the law gets here."
She replied dismissively before she walked back behind the bar swearing under her breath as she went.
I had completely forgotten about Tanya. I looked around the now deserted night club as the dim red and purple rave lights flashed on and off, making it really difficult to see much of anything clearly.
I caught movement from under a table out of the corner of my eye and walked over to investigate. Surely enough, crouched and hiding beneath the table was Tanya. She nearly jumped out of her skin when I leaned down to talk to her.
" You can come out now, the bad guys are all very dead."
She came out from under the table slowly and cautiously with her eyes closed. She didn't keep them closed though, and when she did open them and saw the mutilated thugs on the floor she vomited all over the floor almost immedaitely.
"First time seeing dead people?"
I asked her in a tone that may have been a bit too casual given the circumstances.
She gave me a disgusted look before she vomited again and took a few minutes to catch her breath before she finally spoke.
"What the fuck… who...what are you?"
She asked between labored breaths.
"I'm kinda complicated babe. I don't have the time to give details but believe me when I say I'm a very very bad man and you don't want to get mixed up with me. I need to get out of here before the Justicars show up, so this'll probably be the last time we see each other, have a nice life, better luck with your next man."
I said flippantly as I turned to leave without another thought. I figured that seeing the guy you've been chasing sprout claws and turn a few guys into mince meat would be enough to scare away any woman and I wouldn't have to say anymore. Little did I know she more to say to me, and what she had to say would turn my world upside down.
"Remy wait!"
She yelled as she ran after me and I turned back to reply to her with clear agitation.
"Look babe, do I have to spell this out for you? I'm a demon, like a literal demon straight from the pits of Hell, not exactly the type you can bring home to momma and papa, so why don't you do us both a favor and find somebody else to sleep with?"
Bewilderment and disgust spread across her face before it was quickly replaced by indignant anger and she started yelling at me
" You sleazy, egotistical piece of shit! You think I've been looking all over this shit hole town for you because I want to sleep with you again?"
Now I was genuinely confused. I couldn't fathom what else she could have wanted.
"Well… yeah" I said kind of sheepishly
She scoffed at my response
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d never let you touch me again after what you did.”
“ Alright, then what the fuck do you want?” I shot back.
“ I needed to tell you something.”
“What? What could you possibly need to tell me that you’d go through all this trouble…”
“ I’m pregnant.” she said.
Life was never the same after that.



submitted by McSinister5674 to creativewriting [link] [comments]


2020.09.11 10:01 McSinister5674 In naked mother law by caught

No matter where you go or what kind of times you live in, the one thing that nearly every human being, whether you’re talking about men or women, young or old, has in common is desire. Desire of the physical and sexual sort of course but on a deeper level the desire to be cared about and loved, and it's that desire that feeds me. Who am I you might be wondering? Well you can call me Remy, it’s not the name I was born with but it's what everyone calls me so you might as well too. I’m what’s been called an Incubus, or a sex demon if you’re feeling particularly racist, and that desire is my life.
I’ve been called evil in the past, mostly by miserable assholes that want everyone else to be as miserable as them, but I don’t let it phase me, and you shouldn’t either. Trust me, my “victims” if you really want to call them that never go through any kind of pain, I hate violence and avoid it unless it’s absolutely necessary. In fact, they get to experience absolute bliss in the arms of the lover they always wanted while I get to feed on that wonderful life energy they won’t need anymore before they pass away like they’re falling asleep. Isn’t that how everybody wants to go? I’m doing a public service if you ask me.
Anyways I digress. My life isn’t all fun and games. Dead bodies, even of those that died happily tend to make people upset, and upset people ask questions, the kind of questions that make living in one place pretty difficult, so I move around a lot. The nomadic lifestyle has its perks, one of which is seeing far off and exotic places, and on the night my life changed forever, I was in one such exotic place, Ambia, The City in the Clouds.
Or more specifically, I was in some lowbrow club on the lower levels of the massive airships’s Engine Quarter, where the working class citizens of Ambia toiled long hours for shitty wages maintaining the City’s intricate propulsion systems so the whole damn thing didn’t plommet down to the ground below at the behest of wealthy politicians and a bloated, corrupt clergy. It was the kind of place where poverty and discontent walked hand in hand, where people felt trapped and hopeless, drinking away their stress and sorrow while they silently prayed that something, anything, would come along to make their lives worth living. In other words, it was the perfect place for me.
I had walked in and just sat down as I usually did, ordered a drink, and listened to the pulsating beats of the music around me while I waited for someone to talk to me. Someone always did. Now at this point you might be asking yourself what a sex demon looks like, since I always got somebody’s attention pretty much wherever I went and I wish I could tell you but to be honest I’m not entirely sure. Some legends will tell you that an Incubus is a shape-shifter, but this isn’t really true. People see in me what they desire, either sexually or emotionally, and everybody is different. Most everyone sees a man when they look at me, though that isn’t always the case. I once had a guy compliment my tits, that had been an interesting night. Aside from that, everything about me varies depending on who’s looking at me. Some people think I’m tall with red hair, others think I’m short and stocky with thick blond hair, there really isn’t any consistency, and I’ve never seen anything when I look in the mirror, just a blank space where a person should be. I guess it just comes with the territory.
On this particular night I was first approached by a plain looking man who spoke to me nervously and quietly, like he was doing something wrong merely by striking up a conversation. I was a bit surprised when he mentioned a wife, since by his slightly effeminate manner of speech and the fact that he kept stealing glances at my crotch throughout our converstion it seemed pretty clear he was a homosexual, but that kind of thing was fairly common in Ambia since the ruling clergy looked at intimate relations between men less than favourably. I didn't really mind. I have no particular preferences with humans when it comes to gender, a man's life force is just as nourishing as a woman's and variety is the slice of life. We talked for about an hour before he worked up the courage to ask if I wanted to go home with him, and I put on my most convincing excited face before I agreed.
We left the club and walked out onto the dimly lit street. The open sky wasn’t visible from the depths of the Engine Quarter, just the massive gears and serpentine metal supports that made up the skeleton of the city above. The only sources of light down here were the neon lights of the bars, clubs, brothels, and the Engine Core at the center of the Quarter.
It’s a reactor of sorts as far as I know, though I’m not a scientist or any other kind of egghead so don’t quote me on that. It stands towering above all the other structures in the Quarter and has a pale blue light at the top of that sort of looks like a miniature sun, though I think it’s much prettier than the real thing. I found myself staring at it absentmindedly as I paced down the crowded street past an assortment of rough looking types.
Drug-dealers, jaded looking hookers and their pimps, criminals looking to disappear into the crowd, and a few sorry sons of bitches that just didn’t have a roof to put over their heads passe by as I walked with this guy who’s name I can't recall and half-heartedly listened to as he spoke to me. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I was just really off my game that night in light of some weird shit that had been going on in my life not long before that, but I’ll cover that later.
Anyway we walked west from the club I think, passed a couple intersections while he talked my ear off about this and that, the usual stuff mostly, his shitty job crunching numbers for a boss he hated up in the Cloud Quarter where all the fat cats of Ambia lived the literal high life among the clouds, his deteriorating relationship with his wife who was getting more and more suspicious about his preferences, and the deep hole of debt he was in financially. I nodded and responded with a reassuring word when it was necessary, but my mind just wasn’t all there. When we finally did get back to his place I was a bit surprised by how nice it was.
Most folks that lived in the Engine Quarter could barely afford a run-down one bedroom apartment but this guy’s house was pretty posh, had a voice activated steel gate and everything. Beyond that was a modest driveway that led to a small yet upscale looking two-story house, the interior of which was painstakingly decorated to look like the inside of a house you’d see in the Cloud Quarter, clean and tidy with a few paintings on the walls that were probably very skilled forgeries of some paintings done by a handful of Ambia’s famous artists.
We barely got through the door before he pushed me up against a wall and started planting awkward, sloppy kisses on my neck and lower jaw while I more or less just went through the motions. I’m not one to kiss and tell so I won’t go into the raunchy details, but what I will say is that he surrendered his soul sooner than most. The whole ordeal took maybe 15 minutes.
His soul tasted bittersweet, almost like blueberries, which didn't come as much of a surprise, the really lonely ones always did.
After I'd eaten my fill, I pushed the freshly made dead man off my chest where he had been laying and made my way out of the house and back onto the street, trying not to be too conspicuous as I did.
I wasn't too worried about being noticed since I was pretty much positive that no one would ever be able to give an accurate description of me, but my Dad always used to tell me you could never be too careful, and before you ask, yes I had a father like just like anybody else and sure he was a black hearted bastard with a taste for dark sorcery and wanton cruelty, but he had smart shit to say every now and again.
I glanced at my watch after I made it back onto the crowded, trash filled street which read 10:45pm. Since the night was still young and I was still a bit hungry I made my way over to The Thirst, a dilapidated old building that I'm told used to be a pretty upscale resort of some kind back when the Engine Quarter was still the kind of place where respectable types came to spend their money.
Nowadays however it was just another seedy nightclub, though it was the closest thing you could get down here to a classy establishment.
I went there fairly often against my better judgement. I had a rule not to pick up too many people from the same place, since that would make it fairly obvious to any body who might be investigating my particular career where I liked to hang out, but there was just something about the place that made me keep coming back.
Maybe it was the ambiance, maybe it was the surprisingly good food and cheap liquor, or maybe it was Mel, that good natured if slightly jaded woman that stood behind the bar who always poured and mixed my drinks just right, and could always make me laugh when I was having a bad night.
That night she had a look that was somewhere between deeply concerned, and disappointed on her face as I made my way up to the bar counter. When she spoke to me, She had the tone of a mother questioning a child that had been up to no good.
" What the Hell have you been doing Remy?"
I did my best to sound both surprised and indignant with my response.
" What the Hell are you talking about Mel? I ain't done anything to anybody and whoever says otherwise is a damn liar!"
She didn’t believe me, but instead of pressing me further, she let out an exasperated sigh and said
“ That girl’s been back in here asking about you, and Justicars have been in here asking about her.”
I didn’t think it was possible to fit so much bad news into a single sentence like that. If you don’t know what a Justicar is you should count yourself lucky, because that means you’ve probably never met one. In theory, they’re supposed to be the black armored keepers of law and order in Ambia but in reality they are better described as mentally unhinged sociopaths with severe inferiority complexes and high end plasma weapons.
I’ve done a pretty good job of avoiding them so far, but hearing that they’ve been poking around my favorite club is more than a little unnerving, and the girl... well, the girl is complicated.
I think her name’s Tina or something close to that. Definitely starts with a T. I met her here at the Thirst a few months ago when I first got to Ambia. I remember that she had this fish out of water look on her face when I spotted her from where I sat at the bar, like she'd never been in a nightclub before.
She wasn't the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, but she was most certainly not ugly either. Her brown hair was about shoulder length, and her soft blue eyes had a strange way of holding your attention. She looked like she took care of herself, far too much so for her to have been from the Engine Quarter, and she carried herself like she came from money.
Perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps out of sheer boredom, I approached her rather than waiting for her to approach me.
We hit it off pretty well and got to talking for what must have been hours. I don't remember the details clearly but she told me her father was some kind of big shot up in the Cloud Quarter and that she hated his fucking guts. According to her he was an oppressive piece of shit that tried to control every aspect of her life from what kind of studies she was allowed to pursue to what kind of clothes she was allowed to wear, and that she had come down to the very bowels of Ambia to escape from him, if only for a little while.
Having had first hand experience with terrible fathers myself, I found that pretty easy to relate to and shared with her some things I had hated about my own father without giving away too much about myself.
She seemed really taken with me by the end of our conversation, which wasn't unusual, but what was unusual was that I almost felt bad about what I knew would happen to her later that night, and that wasn't very much like me at all.
We left the club an hour or two before dawn. I remember her clutching my arm tenderly as we walked through the dark streets toward the shabby hotel room I was renting under a false name at the time. Up to this point, this had been a routine night for me, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary from picking someone up at a club at the beginning of the night, to the sex back at the hotel room with the intent of satisfying what some have called my “unholy appetites” at the end of the night.
What had been unusual, or rather what should not have been possible was that I had been unable to devour her soul during our intimate encounter. She survived the entire process seemingly unscathed, in fact she didn't even seem to notice my attempts to leech her life force. It was almost like she radiated some kind of power that nullified my own.
That had never happened even once before. In my several centuries of existence I'd never met anyone that was immune to my powers like she seemed to be, and it fucking terrified me.
Not really knowing what else to do, I left the room as soon as she fell asleep and haven't seen her since. I had hoped that once she got over her hurt feelings she would return to the Cloud Quarter and get on with her life in a place where I would never have to see her again, but it seemed that she was much more tenacious than I thought she would be.
Over the past few months, I've heard through the grapevine that she'd been going to almost every night club in the Engine Quarter searching for me, and bringing the Justicars down here after her by the sound of it for some reason.
The whole thing was turning into a huge fucking mess. That kind of attention on my feeding grounds made life very hard for me, and I didn't like that one bit.
I sat there thinking about what rotten fucking luck I'd had in this city, and trying to think of a way out of it for a few minutes before Mel's expectant and irritated voice brought me back to reality.
"Well? What do you got to say about all this shit Remy? I can't have the law coming in here every other night looking for one of your little spurned sweethearts! It's killing my business!"
" She's not a "spurned sweetheart" Mel. This shit is just a big misunderstanding."
I said defensively.
"Well then why don't you explain that to her next time you see her."
" I'm not really trying to run into her again"
"Well, it's too late for that."
She replied with a smirk as she gestured to something behind me. My heart sank even before I heard that familiar voice call out to me.
"Remy!"
I turned around on the bar stool to see that same girl with the soft blue eyes from months earlier pushing almost desperately through the crowd to reach me and I cringed a little inside.
I turned back around and tried to make myself as small as possible while Mel giggled at my expense.
"You're a cold-hearted bitch Mel."
I groaned.
"And you're a sleazy shit stain."
She shot back. I didn't really have a comeback for that. Instead I just let out a deep sigh and turned around just in time to come face to face with Tina or whatever her name was, prepared to break her heart a for second time and get on with my night.
She looked absolutely ecstatic to see me. Which made what I was going to say all the more awkward.
"Remy! I've been looking for you forever! We need to talk.."
"Listen.. Tina." I started
"Tanya" she corrected looking slightly perplexed by my mistake.
"Tanya… that was a one time thing. I don't want to hurt your feelings but I'm not really looking to get deeply involved with someone right now.."
"No Remy, you don't understand we need to talk about something serious..."
"Well we're talking right now, say what you need to."
" I'd rather talk about this in private, I think I'm being followed and what I have to say can't reach the wrong ears."
She said in a deathly serious tone
I feel like I should say at this point that it's very hard to creep out an Incubus, but I was starting to get creepy vibes from this whole situation nevertheless and I was mentally calculating my escape route when a bright bolt of white hot plasma ripped through my left shoulder and sent me tumbling to the floor.
A sharp piercing scream rang out over the club music and I saw people scrambling in every direction to get away from the source of the shot.
It had been at least a few decades since the last time somebody had tried to murder me, so I was really out of practice when it came to processing pain, and holy shit did that plasma hurt. The wound had cauterized on it’s own almost instantly, which was the only up side of getting shot with modern weapons these days.
Excruciating pain filled my senses and time seemed to slow around me as adrenaline kicked in and I became hyper aware of everything happening around me. I was in a very literal sense seeing red. My eyes had turned from their typical color into the deep red glow of a demon in the throes of rage, and my face contorted into something terrifying and only vaguely human, at least I think it did. The look of sheer shock and abject terror that spread across Tanya’s face as she stared at me writhing in agony on the ground told me that whatever I looked like to her was not not normal.
I stayed low to the ground and crawled across the floor with the kind of unnatural speed and grace one would see in a spider as I ducked and weaved through the crowd of people trying to escape the club. I spotted the first of my enemies standing over by one of the loudspeakers that pumped music into the club. He was a tall guy in a dark jacket with a hood pulled across his face. In his right hand he brandished a sleek looking black handgun with a brightly glowing energy cell where the magazine should have been.
I’d seen guns like that down here before. It was the kind of compact plasma weapon that was incredibly popular with the drug dealers and professional killers of the Engine Quarter. Since it seemed pretty clear that he wasn’t here to sell me drugs it was pretty obvious to me which one of those groups he belonged to.
The DJ who had been playing the clubs music had run out the front door as soon as the first shot had been fired leaving the music machines unattended, and as I got close enough to pounce on my attacker, the next song that had been queued up to play rang out over the loudspeakers, and the fast paced techno beats and sad, heartbroken lyrics of a remixed version of Deadmau 5’s Raise your Weapon acted as the soundtrack to our battle.
“ Ripping my heart was so easy, so easy”
A soft, feminene voice sang as I lunged up from the floor at the hooded killer in a frenzy, my hands transforming from typical human hands into long serrated black claws. He saw me at the last second and tried to fire off another shot of plasma. But I knocked the gun out of his hand and sent it clattering to the floor before I grabbed his left shoulder, sinking my claws into his flesh as I did, and pushed the claws of my right hand into the soft skin under his chin and up into his skull. He twitched and thrashed around in my grip as he died, and I was slightly disgusted by the wet, slick feeling of the blood and brains on my claws as I retracted them.
As the dead man fell to the floor I made a mental note to wash my hands before I left the club just in time to spot another hooded man who could have been a carbon copy of the first one, right down to the sleek black pistol standing by the entrance let out a shriek of surprise before firing a volley of bright plasma bolts at me and giving me no choice but to jump behind an overturned table nearby for cover.
“ Launch your assault now, take it easy”
Thinking quickly I ripped off a leg of the table and threw it at the second assailant hoping to impale him with it.
I wasn't that lucky, though it did manage to hit him square in the face. He yelped in pain and I could hear the sound of his nose breaking as he tumbled backwards. I took the opportunity to leap over the table as fast as I was able, which was in fact pretty damn fast, I doubt anybody watching the fight would have been able to follow my movements with their naked eyes but again I digress.
I was on the man before he had a chance to react and I used my claws to stick him like a pin cushion as many times as could before something hard and blunt struck my temple and filled my vision with white spots.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon."
Depending on how you looked at it, those particular lyrics of the song were either very well timed, or timed very poorly because when my vision cleared up enough for me to see who hit me I was greeted by the sight of yet another hooded hit man, though this one only vaguely resembled the other two.
He was at least two or three feet taller than the others and his muscles were fucking massive. They bulged through his jacket., it was not at all an exaggeration to say that he looked like a leather wrapped rhino on steroids.

In his hands he held what looked like a length of metal pipe, and I didn't really have a lot of time to reflect on how unprofessional it was for a professional killer to be using a fucking metal pipe before he raised it back over his head and swung at me again.
"One word and it's over."
I rolled out the way of the incoming blow and sliced out a chunk of the hooded behemoth's ankle as I rolled behind him.
I think I managed to cut his Achilles tendon because he fell over onto the floor gripping his ankle as he groaned in pain. I got a bit over confident after that, and tried to leap on top of the man and rip him to shreds like I had my previous attacker.
" Ripping through like a missile”
He flipped onto his back and caught me with both hands just before the impact and rolled the both of us over again so I was pinned under him while he started pummeling me with his huge fists. As blow after blow hit my face and I felt some of my teeth dislodge I decided that without a doubt this was the worst night I’d had in years, maybe even centuries. I tried to shield my face with my claws, but he hit way too hard and too fast than somebody his size should have been able to and I couldn’t do much about it. I started to see stars and black spots everywhere as the conscious world seemed to slip away from me.
"Ripping through my heart"
A deafening bang rang out from somewhere above me and the punches stopped almost as quickly as they had began. Warm blood and viscera spilled all over my face and I choked back the urge to vomit as I looked up to see half of my attackers head completely blown off.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon, and it's over."
Spitting some broken teeth out of my mouth, I used all the strength I had left to push the giant corpse off me as the music died down and the club fell silent.
I wondered what the fuck had just happened for maybe a moment before I looked over in the direction the sound had come from to see Mel standing nearby with an annoyed look on her face and a fucking smoking sawed-off shotgun of all things in her hands. I didn't think they still made those anymore since this was my first time seeing one in like forty years.
I let out a relieved sigh and made another mental note to give Mel a tip next time I bought a drink here.
" Mel, have I ever told you you're an angel?" I exclaimed with a grin.
"Take your little girlfriend and get the fuck out of my club before the law gets here."
She replied dismissively before she walked back behind the bar swearing under her breath as she went.
I had completely forgotten about Tanya. I looked around the now deserted night club as the dim red and purple rave lights flashed on and off, making it really difficult to see much of anything clearly.
I caught movement from under a table out of the corner of my eye and walked over to investigate. Surely enough, crouched and hiding beneath the table was Tanya. She nearly jumped out of her skin when I leaned down to talk to her.
" You can come out now, the bad guys are all very dead."
She came out from under the table slowly and cautiously with her eyes closed. She didn't keep them closed though, and when she did open them and saw the mutilated thugs on the floor she vomited all over the floor almost immedaitely.
"First time seeing dead people?"
I asked her in a tone that may have been a bit too casual given the circumstances.
She gave me a disgusted look before she vomited again and took a few minutes to catch her breath before she finally spoke.
"What the fuck… who...what are you?"
She asked between labored breaths.
"I'm kinda complicated babe. I don't have the time to give details but believe me when I say I'm a very very bad man and you don't want to get mixed up with me. I need to get out of here before the Justicars show up, so this'll probably be the last time we see each other, have a nice life, better luck with your next man."
I said flippantly as I turned to leave without another thought. I figured that seeing the guy you've been chasing sprout claws and turn a few guys into mince meat would be enough to scare away any woman and I wouldn't have to say anymore. Little did I know she more to say to me, and what she had to say would turn my world upside down.
"Remy wait!"
She yelled as she ran after me and I turned back to reply to her with clear agitation.
"Look babe, do I have to spell this out for you? I'm a demon, like a literal demon straight from the pits of Hell, not exactly the type you can bring home to momma and papa, so why don't you do us both a favor and find somebody else to sleep with?"
Bewilderment and disgust spread across her face before it was quickly replaced by indignant anger and she started yelling at me
" You sleazy, egotistical piece of shit! You think I've been looking all over this shit hole town for you because I want to sleep with you again?"
Now I was genuinely confused. I couldn't fathom what else she could have wanted.
"Well… yeah" I said kind of sheepishly
She scoffed at my response
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d never let you touch me again after what you did.”
“ Alright, then what the fuck do you want?” I shot back.
“ I needed to tell you something.”
“What? What could you possibly need to tell me that you’d go through all this trouble…”
“ I’m pregnant.” she said.
Life was never the same after that.



submitted by McSinister5674 to story [link] [comments]


2020.09.11 09:55 McSinister5674 By mother caught naked in law

No matter where you go or what kind of times you live in, the one thing that nearly every human being, whether you’re talking about men or women, young or old, has in common is desire. Desire of the physical and sexual sort of course but on a deeper level the desire to be cared about and loved, and it's that desire that feeds me. Who am I you might be wondering? Well you can call me Remy, it’s not the name I was born with but it's what everyone calls me so you might as well too. I’m what’s been called an Incubus, or a sex demon if you’re feeling particularly racist, and that desire is my life.
I’ve been called evil in the past, mostly by miserable assholes that want everyone else to be as miserable as them, but I don’t let it phase me, and you shouldn’t either. Trust me, my “victims” if you really want to call them that never go through any kind of pain, I hate violence and avoid it unless it’s absolutely necessary. In fact, they get to experience absolute bliss in the arms of the lover they always wanted while I get to feed on that wonderful life energy they won’t need anymore before they pass away like they’re falling asleep. Isn’t that how everybody wants to go? I’m doing a public service if you ask me.
Anyways I digress. My life isn’t all fun and games. Dead bodies, even of those that died happily tend to make people upset, and upset people ask questions, the kind of questions that make living in one place pretty difficult, so I move around a lot. The nomadic lifestyle has its perks, one of which is seeing far off and exotic places, and on the night my life changed forever, I was in one such exotic place, Ambia, The City in the Clouds.
Or more specifically, I was in some lowbrow club on the lower levels of the massive airships’s Engine Quarter, where the working class citizens of Ambia toiled long hours for shitty wages maintaining the City’s intricate propulsion systems so the whole damn thing didn’t plommet down to the ground below at the behest of wealthy politicians and a bloated, corrupt clergy. It was the kind of place where poverty and discontent walked hand in hand, where people felt trapped and hopeless, drinking away their stress and sorrow while they silently prayed that something, anything, would come along to make their lives worth living. In other words, it was the perfect place for me.
I had walked in and just sat down as I usually did, ordered a drink, and listened to the pulsating beats of the music around me while I waited for someone to talk to me. Someone always did. Now at this point you might be asking yourself what a sex demon looks like, since I always got somebody’s attention pretty much wherever I went and I wish I could tell you but to be honest I’m not entirely sure. Some legends will tell you that an Incubus is a shape-shifter, but this isn’t really true. People see in me what they desire, either sexually or emotionally, and everybody is different. Most everyone sees a man when they look at me, though that isn’t always the case. I once had a guy compliment my tits, that had been an interesting night. Aside from that, everything about me varies depending on who’s looking at me. Some people think I’m tall with red hair, others think I’m short and stocky with thick blond hair, there really isn’t any consistency, and I’ve never seen anything when I look in the mirror, just a blank space where a person should be. I guess it just comes with the territory.
On this particular night I was first approached by a plain looking man who spoke to me nervously and quietly, like he was doing something wrong merely by striking up a conversation. I was a bit surprised when he mentioned a wife, since by his slightly effeminate manner of speech and the fact that he kept stealing glances at my crotch throughout our converstion it seemed pretty clear he was a homosexual, but that kind of thing was fairly common in Ambia since the ruling clergy looked at intimate relations between men less than favourably. I didn't really mind. I have no particular preferences with humans when it comes to gender, a man's life force is just as nourishing as a woman's and variety is the slice of life. We talked for about an hour before he worked up the courage to ask if I wanted to go home with him, and I put on my most convincing excited face before I agreed.
We left the club and walked out onto the dimly lit street. The open sky wasn’t visible from the depths of the Engine Quarter, just the massive gears and serpentine metal supports that made up the skeleton of the city above. The only sources of light down here were the neon lights of the bars, clubs, brothels, and the Engine Core at the center of the Quarter.
It’s a reactor of sorts as far as I know, though I’m not a scientist or any other kind of egghead so don’t quote me on that. It stands towering above all the other structures in the Quarter and has a pale blue light at the top of that sort of looks like a miniature sun, though I think it’s much prettier than the real thing. I found myself staring at it absentmindedly as I paced down the crowded street past an assortment of rough looking types.
Drug-dealers, jaded looking hookers and their pimps, criminals looking to disappear into the crowd, and a few sorry sons of bitches that just didn’t have a roof to put over their heads passed by as I walked with this guy who’s name I can't recall and half-heartedly listened to as he spoke to me. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I was just really off my game that night in light of some weird shit that had been going on in my life not long before that, but I’ll cover that later.
Anyway we walked west from the club I think, passed a couple intersections while he talked my ear off about this and that, the usual stuff mostly, his shitty job crunching numbers for a boss he hated up in the Cloud Quarter where all the fat cats of Ambia lived the literal high life among the clouds, his deteriorating relationship with his wife who was getting more and more suspicious about his preferences, and the deep hole of debt he was in financially. I nodded and responded with a reassuring word when it was necessary, but my mind just wasn’t all there. When we finally did get back to his place I was a bit surprised by how nice it was.
Most folks that lived in the Engine Quarter could barely afford a run-down one bedroom apartment but this guy’s house was pretty posh, had a voice activated steel gate and everything. Beyond that was a modest driveway that led to a small yet upscale looking two-story house, the interior of which was painstakingly decorated to look like the inside of a house you’d see in the Cloud Quarter, clean and tidy with a few paintings on the walls that were probably very skilled forgeries of some paintings done by a handful of Ambia’s famous artists.
We barely got through the door before he pushed me up against a wall and started planting awkward, sloppy kisses on my neck and lower jaw while I more or less just went through the motions. I’m not one to kiss and tell so I won’t go into the raunchy details, but what I will say is that he surrendered his soul sooner than most. The whole ordeal took maybe 15 minutes.
His soul tasted bittersweet, almost like blueberries, which didn't come as much of a surprise, the really lonely ones always did.
After I'd eaten my fill, I pushed the freshly made dead man off my chest where he had been laying and made my way out of the house and back onto the street, trying not to be too conspicuous as I did.
I wasn't too worried about being noticed since I was pretty much positive that no one would ever be able to give an accurate description of me, but my Dad always used to tell me you could never be too careful, and before you ask, yes I had a father like just like anybody else and sure he was a black hearted bastard with a taste for dark sorcery and wanton cruelty, but he had smart shit to say every now and again.
I glanced at my watch after I made it back onto the crowded, trash filled street which read 10:45pm. Since the night was still young and I was still a bit hungry I made my way over to The Thirst, a dilapidated old building that I'm told used to be a pretty upscale resort of some kind back when the Engine Quarter was still the kind of place where respectable types came to spend their money.
Nowadays however it was just another seedy nightclub, though it was the closest thing you could get down here to a classy establishment.
I went there fairly often against my better judgement. I had a rule not to pick up too many people from the same place, since that would make it fairly obvious to any body who might be investigating my particular career where I liked to hang out, but there was just something about the place that made me keep coming back.
Maybe it was the ambiance, maybe it was the surprisingly good food and cheap liquor, or maybe it was Mel, that good natured if slightly jaded woman that stood behind the bar who always poured and mixed my drinks just right, and could always make me laugh when I was having a bad night.
That night she had a look that was somewhere between deeply concerned, and disappointed on her face as I made my way up to the bar counter. When she spoke to me, She had the tone of a mother questioning a child that had been up to no good.
" What the Hell have you been doing Remy?"
I did my best to sound both surprised and indignant with my response.
" What the Hell are you talking about Mel? I ain't done anything to anybody and whoever says otherwise is a damn liar!"
She didn’t believe me, but instead of pressing me further, she let out an exasperated sigh and said
“ That girl’s been back in here asking about you, and Justicars have been in here asking about her.”
I didn’t think it was possible to fit so much bad news into a single sentence like that. If you don’t know what a Justicar is you should count yourself lucky, because that means you’ve probably never met one. In theory, they’re supposed to be the black armored keepers of law and order in Ambia but in reality they are better described as mentally unhinged sociopaths with severe inferiority complexes and high end plasma weapons.
I’ve done a pretty good job of avoiding them so far, but hearing that they’ve been poking around my favorite club is more than a little unnerving, and the girl... well, the girl is complicated.
I think her name’s Tina or something close to that. Definitely starts with a T. I met her here at the Thirst a few months ago when I first got to Ambia. I remember that she had this fish out of water look on her face when I spotted her from where I sat at the bar, like she'd never been in a nightclub before.
She wasn't the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, but she was most certainly not ugly either. Her brown hair was about shoulder length, and her soft blue eyes had a strange way of holding your attention. She looked like she took care of herself, far too much so for her to have been from the Engine Quarter, and she carried herself like she came from money.
Perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps out of sheer boredom, I approached her rather than waiting for her to approach me.
We hit it off pretty well and got to talking for what must have been hours. I don't remember the details clearly but she told me her father was some kind of big shot up in the Cloud Quarter and that she hated his fucking guts. According to her he was an oppressive piece of shit that tried to control every aspect of her life from what kind of studies she was allowed to pursue to what kind of clothes she was allowed to wear, and that she had come down to the very bowels of Ambia to escape from him, if only for a little while.
Having had first hand experience with terrible fathers myself, I found that pretty easy to relate to and shared with her some things I had hated about my own father without giving away too much about myself.
She seemed really taken with me by the end of our conversation, which wasn't unusual, but what was unusual was that I almost felt bad about what I knew would happen to her later that night, and that wasn't very much like me at all.
We left the club an hour or two before dawn. I remember her clutching my arm tenderly as we walked through the dark streets toward the shabby hotel room I was renting under a false name at the time. Up to this point, this had been a routine night for me, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary from picking someone up at a club at the beginning of the night, to the sex back at the hotel room with the intent of satisfying what some have called my “unholy appetites” at the end of the night.
What had been unusual, or rather what should not have been possible was that I had been unable to devour her soul during our intimate encounter. She survived the entire process seemingly unscathed, in fact she didn't even seem to notice my attempts to leech her life force. It was almost like she radiated some kind of power that nullified my own.
That had never happened even once before. In my several centuries of existence I'd never met anyone that was immune to my powers like she seemed to be, and it fucking terrified me.
Not really knowing what else to do, I left the room as soon as she fell asleep and haven't seen her since. I had hoped that once she got over her hurt feelings she would return to the Cloud Quarter and get on with her life in a place where I would never have to see her again, but it seemed that she was much more tenacious than I thought she would be.
Over the past few months, I've heard through the grapevine that she'd been going to almost every night club in the Engine Quarter searching for me, and bringing the Justicars down here after her by the sound of it for some reason.
The whole thing was turning into a huge fucking mess. That kind of attention on my feeding grounds made life very hard for me, and I didn't like that one bit.
I sat there thinking about what rotten fucking luck I'd had in this city, and trying to think of a way out of it for a few minutes before Mel's expectant and irritated voice brought me back to reality.
"Well? What do you got to say about all this shit Remy? I can't have the law coming in here every other night looking for one of your little spurned sweethearts! It's killing my business!"
" She's not a "spurned sweetheart" Mel. This shit is just a big misunderstanding."
I said defensively.
"Well then why don't you explain that to her next time you see her."
" I'm not really trying to run into her again"
"Well, it's too late for that."
She replied with a smirk as she gestured to something behind me. My heart sank even before I heard that familiar voice call out to me.
"Remy!"
I turned around on the bar stool to see that same girl with the soft blue eyes from months earlier pushing almost desperately through the crowd to reach me and I cringed a little inside.
I turned back around and tried to make myself as small as possible while Mel giggled at my expense.
"You're a cold-hearted bitch Mel."
I groaned.
"And you're a sleazy shit stain."
She shot back. I didn't really have a comeback for that. Instead I just let out a deep sigh and turned around just in time to come face to face with Tina or whatever her name was, prepared to break her heart a for second time and get on with my night.
She looked absolutely ecstatic to see me. Which made what I was going to say all the more awkward.
"Remy! I've been looking for you forever! We need to talk.."
"Listen.. Tina." I started
"Tanya" she corrected looking slightly perplexed by my mistake.
"Tanya… that was a one time thing. I don't want to hurt your feelings but I'm not really looking to get deeply involved with someone right now.."
"No Remy, you don't understand we need to talk about something serious..."
"Well we're talking right now, say what you need to."
" I'd rather talk about this in private, I think I'm being followed and what I have to say can't reach the wrong ears."
She said in a deathly serious tone
I feel like I should say at this point that it's very hard to creep out an Incubus, but I was starting to get creepy vibes from this whole situation nevertheless and I was mentally calculating my escape route when a bright bolt of white hot plasma ripped through my left shoulder and sent me tumbling to the floor.
A sharp piercing scream rang out over the club music and I saw people scrambling in every direction to get away from the source of the shot.
It had been at least a few decades since the last time somebody had tried to murder me, so I was really out of practice when it came to processing pain, and holy shit did that plasma hurt. The wound had cauterized on it’s own almost instantly, which was the only up side of getting shot with modern weapons these days.
Excruciating pain filled my senses and time seemed to slow around me as adrenaline kicked in and I became hyper aware of everything happening around me. I was in a very literal sense seeing red. My eyes had turned from their typical color into the deep red glow of a demon in the throes of rage, and my face contorted into something terrifying and only vaguely human, at least I think it did. The look of sheer shock and abject terror that spread across Tanya’s face as she stared at me writhing in agony on the ground told me that whatever I looked like to her was not not normal.
I stayed low to the ground and crawled across the floor with the kind of unnatural speed and grace one would see in a spider as I ducked and weaved through the crowd of people trying to escape the club. I spotted the first of my enemies standing over by one of the loudspeakers that pumped music into the club. He was a tall guy in a dark jacket with a hood pulled across his face. In his right hand he brandished a sleek looking black handgun with a brightly glowing energy cell where the magazine should have been.
I’d seen guns like that down here before. It was the kind of compact plasma weapon that was incredibly popular with the drug dealers and professional killers of the Engine Quarter. Since it seemed pretty clear that he wasn’t here to sell me drugs it was pretty obvious to me which one of those groups he belonged to.
The DJ who had been playing the clubs music had run out the front door as soon as the first shot had been fired leaving the music machines unattended, and as I got close enough to pounce on my attacker, the next song that had been queued up to play rang out over the loudspeakers, and the fast paced techno beats and sad, heartbroken lyrics of a remixed version of Deadmau 5’s Raise your Weapon acted as the soundtrack to our battle.
“ Ripping my heart was so easy, so easy”
A soft, feminene voice sang as I lunged up from the floor at the hooded killer in a frenzy, my hands transforming from typical human hands into long serrated black claws. He saw me at the last second and tried to fire off another shot of plasma. But I knocked the gun out of his hand and sent it clattering to the floor before I grabbed his left shoulder, sinking my claws into his flesh as I did, and pushed the claws of my right hand into the soft skin under his chin and up into his skull. He twitched and thrashed around in my grip as he died, and I was slightly disgusted by the wet, slick feeling of the blood and brains on my claws as I retracted them.
As the dead man fell to the floor I made a mental note to wash my hands before I left the club just in time to spot another hooded man who could have been a carbon copy of the first one, right down to the sleek black pistol standing by the entrance let out a shriek of surprise before firing a volley of bright plasma bolts at me and giving me no choice but to jump behind an overturned table nearby for cover.
“ Launch your assault now, take it easy”
Thinking quickly I ripped off a leg of the table and threw it at the second assailant hoping to impale him with it.
I wasn't that lucky, though it did manage to hit him square in the face. He yelped in pain and I could hear the sound of his nose breaking as he tumbled backwards. I took the opportunity to leap over the table as fast as I was able, which was in fact pretty damn fast, I doubt anybody watching the fight would have been able to follow my movements with their naked eyes but again I digress.
I was on the man before he had a chance to react and I used my claws to stick him like a pin cushion as many times as could before something hard and blunt struck my temple and filled my vision with white spots.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon."
Depending on how you looked at it, those particular lyrics of the song were either very well timed, or timed very poorly because when my vision cleared up enough for me to see who hit me I was greeted by the sight of yet another hooded hit man, though this one only vaguely resembled the other two.
He was at least two or three feet taller than the others and his muscles were fucking massive. They bulged through his jacket., it was not at all an exaggeration to say that he looked like a leather wrapped rhino on steroids.

In his hands he held what looked like a length of metal pipe, and I didn't really have a lot of time to reflect on how unprofessional it was for a professional killer to be using a fucking metal pipe before he raised it back over his head and swung at me again.
"One word and it's over."
I rolled out the way of the incoming blow and sliced out a chunk of the hooded behemoth's ankle as I rolled behind him.
I think I managed to cut his Achilles tendon because he fell over onto the floor gripping his ankle as he groaned in pain. I got a bit over confident after that, and tried to leap on top of the man and rip him to shreds like I had my previous attacker.
" Ripping through like a missile”
He flipped onto his back and caught me with both hands just before the impact and rolled the both of us over again so I was pinned under him while he started pummeling me with his huge fists. As blow after blow hit my face and I felt some of my teeth dislodge I decided that without a doubt this was the worst night I’d had in years, maybe even centuries. I tried to shield my face with my claws, but he hit way too hard and too fast than somebody his size should have been able to and I couldn’t do much about it. I started to see stars and black spots everywhere as the conscious world seemed to slip away from me.
"Ripping through my heart"
A deafening bang rang out from somewhere above me and the punches stopped almost as quickly as they had began. Warm blood and viscera spilled all over my face and I choked back the urge to vomit as I looked up to see half of my attackers head completely blown off.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon, and it's over."
Spitting some broken teeth out of my mouth, I used all the strength I had left to push the giant corpse off me as the music died down and the club fell silent.
I wondered what the fuck had just happened for maybe a moment before I looked over in the direction the sound had come from to see Mel standing nearby with an annoyed look on her face and a fucking smoking sawed-off shotgun of all things in her hands. I didn't think they still made those anymore since this was my first time seeing one in like forty years.
I let out a relieved sigh and made another mental note to give Mel a tip next time I bought a drink here.
" Mel, have I ever told you you're an angel?" I exclaimed with a grin.
"Take your little girlfriend and get the fuck out of my club before the law gets here."
She replied dismissively before she walked back behind the bar swearing under her breath as she went.
I had completely forgotten about Tanya. I looked around the now deserted night club as the dim red and purple rave lights flashed on and off, making it really difficult to see much of anything clearly.
I caught movement from under a table out of the corner of my eye and walked over to investigate. Surely enough, crouched and hiding beneath the table was Tanya. She nearly jumped out of her skin when I leaned down to talk to her.
" You can come out now, the bad guys are all very dead."
She came out from under the table slowly and cautiously with her eyes closed. She didn't keep them closed though, and when she did open them and saw the mutilated thugs on the floor she vomited all over the floor almost immedaitely.
"First time seeing dead people?"
I asked her in a tone that may have been a bit too casual given the circumstances.
She gave me a disgusted look before she vomited again and took a few minutes to catch her breath before she finally spoke.
"What the fuck… who...what are you?"
She asked between labored breaths.
"I'm kinda complicated babe. I don't have the time to give details but believe me when I say I'm a very very bad man and you don't want to get mixed up with me. I need to get out of here before the Justicars show up, so this'll probably be the last time we see each other, have a nice life, better luck with your next man."
I said flippantly as I turned to leave without another thought. I figured that seeing the guy you've been chasing sprout claws and turn a few guys into mince meat would be enough to scare away any woman and I wouldn't have to say anymore. Little did I know she more to say to me, and what she had to say would turn my world upside down.
"Remy wait!"
She yelled as she ran after me and I turned back to reply to her with clear agitation.
"Look babe, do I have to spell this out for you? I'm a demon, like a literal demon straight from the pits of Hell, not exactly the type you can bring home to momma and papa, so why don't you do us both a favor and find somebody else to sleep with?"
Bewilderment and disgust spread across her face before it was quickly replaced by indignant anger and she started yelling at me
" You sleazy, egotistical piece of shit! You think I've been looking all over this shit hole town for you because I want to sleep with you again?"
Now I was genuinely confused. I couldn't fathom what else she could have wanted.
"Well… yeah" I said kind of sheepishly
She scoffed at my response
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d never let you touch me again after what you did.”
“ Alright, then what the fuck do you want?” I shot back.
“ I needed to tell you something.”
“What? What could you possibly need to tell me that you’d go through all this trouble…”
“ I’m pregnant.” she said.
Life was never the same after that.



submitted by McSinister5674 to writers [link] [comments]


2020.09.10 22:47 McSinister5674 Caught naked by mother in law

No matter where you go or what kind of times you live in, the one thing that nearly every human being, whether you’re talking about men or women, young or old, has in common is desire. Desire of the physical and sexual sort of course but on a deeper level the desire to be cared about and loved, and it's that desire that feeds me. Who am I you might be wondering? Well you can call me Remy, it’s not the name I was born with but it's what everyone calls me so you might as well too. I’m what’s been called an Incubus, or a sex demon if you’re feeling particularly racist, and that desire is my life.
I’ve been called evil in the past, mostly by miserable assholes that want everyone else to be as miserable as them, but I don’t let it phase me, and you shouldn’t either. Trust me, my “victims” if you really want to call them that never go through any kind of pain, I hate violence and avoid it unless it’s absolutely necessary. In fact, they get to experience absolute bliss in the arms of the lover they always wanted while I get to feed on that wonderful life energy they won’t need anymore before they pass away like they’re falling asleep. Isn’t that how everybody wants to go? I’m doing a public service if you ask me.
Anyways I digress. My life isn’t all fun and games. Dead bodies, even of those that died happily tend to make people upset, and upset people ask questions, the kind of questions that make living in one place pretty difficult, so I move around a lot. The nomadic lifestyle has its perks, one of which is seeing far off and exotic places, and on the night my life changed forever, I was in one such exotic place, Ambia, The City in the Clouds.
Or more specifically, I was in some lowbrow club on the lower levels of the massive airships’s Engine Quarter, where the working class citizens of Ambia toiled long hours for shitty wages maintaining the City’s intricate propulsion systems so the whole damn thing didn’t plommet down to the ground below at the behest of wealthy politicians and a bloated, corrupt clergy. It was the kind of place where poverty and discontent walked hand in hand, where people felt trapped and hopeless, drinking away their stress and sorrow while they silently prayed that something, anything, would come along to make their lives worth living. In other words, it was the perfect place for me.
I had walked in and just sat down as I usually did, ordered a drink, and listened to the pulsating beats of the music around me while I waited for someone to talk to me. Someone always did. Now at this point you might be asking yourself what a sex demon looks like, since I always got somebody’s attention pretty much wherever I went and I wish I could tell you but to be honest I’m not entirely sure. Some legends will tell you that an Incubus is a shape-shifter, but this isn’t really true. People see in me what they desire, either sexually or emotionally, and everybody is different. Most everyone sees a man when they look at me, though that isn’t always the case. I once had a guy compliment my tits, that had been an interesting night. Aside from that, everything about me varies depending on who’s looking at me. Some people think I’m tall with red hair, others think I’m short and stocky with thick blond hair, there really isn’t any consistency, and I’ve never seen anything when I look in the mirror, just a blank space where a person should be. I guess it just comes with the territory.
On this particular night I was first approached by a plain looking man who spoke to me nervously and quietly, like he was doing something wrong merely by striking up a conversation. I was a bit surprised when he mentioned a wife, since by his slightly effeminate manner of speech and the fact that he kept stealing glances at my crotch throughout our converstion it seemed pretty clear he was a homosexual, but that kind of thing was fairly common in Ambia since the ruling clergy looked at intimate relations between men less than favourably. I didn't really mind. I have no particular preferences with humans when it comes to gender, a man's life force is just as nourishing as a woman's and variety is the slice of life. We talked for about an hour before he worked up the courage to ask if I wanted to go home with him, and I put on my most convincing excited face before I agreed.
We left the club and walked out onto the dimly lit street. The open sky wasn’t visible from the depths of the Engine Quarter, just the massive gears and serpentine metal supports that made up the skeleton of the city above. The only sources of light down here were the neon lights of the bars, clubs, brothels, and the Engine Core at the center of the Quarter.
It’s a reactor of sorts as far as I know, though I’m not a scientist or any other kind of egghead so don’t quote me on that. It stands towering above all the other structures in the Quarter and has a pale blue light at the top of that sort of looks like a miniature sun, though I think it’s much prettier than the real thing. I found myself staring at it absentmindedly as I paced down the crowded street past an assortment of rough looking types.
Drug-dealers, jaded looking hookers and their pimps, criminals looking to disappear into the crowd, and a few sorry sons of bitches that just didn’t have a roof to put over their heads passed by as I walked with this guy who’s name I can't recall and half-heartedly listened to as he spoke to me. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I was just really off my game that night in light of some weird shit that had been going on in my life not long before that, but I’ll cover that later.
Anyway we walked west from the club I think, passed a couple intersections while he talked my ear off about this and that, the usual stuff mostly, his shitty job crunching numbers for a boss he hated up in the Cloud Quarter where all the fat cats of Ambia lived the literal high life among the clouds, his deteriorating relationship with his wife who was getting more and more suspicious about his preferences, and the deep hole of debt he was in financially. I nodded and responded with a reassuring word when it was necessary, but my mind just wasn’t all there. When we finally did get back to his place I was a bit surprised by how nice it was.
Most folks that lived in the Engine Quarter could barely afford a run-down one bedroom apartment but this guy’s house was pretty posh, had a voice activated steel gate and everything. Beyond that was a modest driveway that led to a small yet upscale looking two-story house, the interior of which was painstakingly decorated to look like the inside of a house you’d see in the Cloud Quarter, clean and tidy with a few paintings on the walls that were probably very skilled forgeries of some paintings done by a handful of Ambia’s famous artists.
We barely got through the door before he pushed me up against a wall and started planting awkward, sloppy kisses on my neck and lower jaw while I more or less just went through the motions. I’m not one to kiss and tell so I won’t go into the raunchy details, but what I will say is that he surrendered his soul sooner than most. The whole ordeal took maybe 15 minutes.
His soul tasted bittersweet, almost like blueberries, which didn't come as much of a surprise, the really lonely ones always did.
After I'd eaten my fill, I pushed the freshly made dead man off my chest where he had been laying and made my way out of the house and back onto the street, trying not to be too conspicuous as I did.
I wasn't too worried about being noticed since I was pretty much positive that no one would ever be able to give an accurate description of me, but my Dad always used to tell me you could never be too careful, and before you ask, yes I had a father like just like anybody else and sure he was a black hearted bastard with a taste for dark sorcery and wanton cruelty, but he had smart shit to say every now and again.
I glanced at my watch after I made it back onto the crowded, trash filled street which read 10:45pm. Since the night was still young and I was still a bit hungry I made my way over to The Thirst, a dilapidated old building that I'm told used to be a pretty upscale resort of some kind back when the Engine Quarter was still the kind of place where respectable types came to spend their money.
Nowadays however it was just another seedy nightclub, though it was the closest thing you could get down here to a classy establishment.
I went there fairly often against my better judgement. I had a rule not to pick up too many people from the same place, since that would make it fairly obvious to any body who might be investigating my particular career where I liked to hang out, but there was just something about the place that made me keep coming back.
Maybe it was the ambiance, maybe it was the surprisingly good food and cheap liquor, or maybe it was Mel, that good natured if slightly jaded woman that stood behind the bar who always poured and mixed my drinks just right, and could always make me laugh when I was having a bad night.
That night she had a look that was somewhere between deeply concerned, and disappointed on her face as I made my way up to the bar counter. When she spoke to me, She had the tone of a mother questioning a child that had been up to no good.
" What the Hell have you been doing Remy?"
I did my best to sound both surprised and indignant with my response.
" What the Hell are you talking about Mel? I ain't done anything to anybody and whoever says otherwise is a damn liar!"
She didn’t believe me, but instead of pressing me further, she let out an exasperated sigh and said
“ That girl’s been back in here asking about you, and Justicars have been in here asking about her.”
I didn’t think it was possible to fit so much bad news into a single sentence like that. If you don’t know what a Justicar is you should count yourself lucky, because that means you’ve probably never met one. In theory, they’re supposed to be the black armored keepers of law and order in Ambia but in reality they are better described as mentally unhinged sociopaths with severe inferiority complexes and high end plasma weapons.
I’ve done a pretty good job of avoiding them so far, but hearing that they’ve been poking around my favorite club is more than a little unnerving, and the girl... well, the girl is complicated.
I think her name’s Tina or something close to that. Definitely starts with a T. I met her here at the Thirst a few months ago when I first got to Ambia. I remember that she had this fish out of water look on her face when I spotted her from where I sat at the bar, like she'd never been in a nightclub before.
She wasn't the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, but she was most certainly not ugly either. Her brown hair was about shoulder length, and her soft blue eyes had a strange way of holding your attention. She looked like she took care of herself, far too much so for her to have been from the Engine Quarter, and she carried herself like she came from money.
Perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps out of sheer boredom, I approached her rather than waiting for her to approach me.
We hit it off pretty well and got to talking for what must have been hours. I don't remember the details clearly but she told me her father was some kind of big shot up in the Cloud Quarter and that she hated his fucking guts. According to her he was an oppressive piece of shit that tried to control every aspect of her life from what kind of studies she was allowed to pursue to what kind of clothes she was allowed to wear, and that she had come down to the very bowels of Ambia to escape from him, if only for a little while.
Having had first hand experience with terrible fathers myself, I found that pretty easy to relate to and shared with her some things I had hated about my own father without giving away too much about myself.
She seemed really taken with me by the end of our conversation, which wasn't unusual, but what was unusual was that I almost felt bad about what I knew would happen to her later that night, and that wasn't very much like me at all.
We left the club an hour or two before dawn. I remember her clutching my arm tenderly as we walked through the dark streets toward the shabby hotel room I was renting under a false name at the time. Up to this point, this had been a routine night for me, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary from picking someone up at a club at the beginning of the night, to the sex back at the hotel room with the intent of satisfying what some have called my “unholy appetites” at the end of the night.
What had been unusual, or rather what should not have been possible was that I had been unable to devour her soul during our intimate encounter. She survived the entire process seemingly unscathed, in fact she didn't even seem to notice my attempts to leech her life force. It was almost like she radiated some kind of power that nullified my own.
That had never happened even once before. In my several centuries of existence I'd never met anyone that was immune to my powers like she seemed to be, and it fucking terrified me.
Not really knowing what else to do, I left the room as soon as she fell asleep and haven't seen her since. I had hoped that once she got over her hurt feelings she would return to the Cloud Quarter and get on with her life in a place where I would never have to see her again, but it seemed that she was much more tenacious than I thought she would be.
Over the past few months, I've heard through the grapevine that she'd been going to almost every night club in the Engine Quarter searching for me, and bringing the Justicars down here after her by the sound of it for some reason.
The whole thing was turning into a huge fucking mess. That kind of attention on my feeding grounds made life very hard for me, and I didn't like that one bit.
I sat there thinking about what rotten fucking luck I'd had in this city, and trying to think of a way out of it for a few minutes before Mel's expectant and irritated voice brought me back to reality.
"Well? What do you got to say about all this shit Remy? I can't have the law coming in here every other night looking for one of your little spurned sweethearts! It's killing my business!"
" She's not a "spurned sweetheart" Mel. This shit is just a big misunderstanding."
I said defensively.
"Well then why don't you explain that to her next time you see her."
" I'm not really trying to run into her again"
"Well, it's too late for that."
She replied with a smirk as she gestured to something behind me. My heart sank even before I heard that familiar voice call out to me.
"Remy!"
I turned around on the bar stool to see that same girl with the soft blue eyes from months earlier pushing almost desperately through the crowd to reach me and I cringed a little inside.
I turned back around and tried to make myself as small as possible while Mel giggled at my expense.
"You're a cold-hearted bitch Mel."
I groaned.
"And you're a sleazy shit stain."
She shot back. I didn't really have a comeback for that. Instead I just let out a deep sigh and turned around just in time to come face to face with Tina or whatever her name was, prepared to break her heart a for second time and get on with my night.
She looked absolutely ecstatic to see me. Which made what I was going to say all the more awkward.
"Remy! I've been looking for you forever! We need to talk.."
"Listen.. Tina." I started
"Tanya" she corrected looking slightly perplexed by my mistake.
"Tanya… that was a one time thing. I don't want to hurt your feelings but I'm not really looking to get deeply involved with someone right now.."
"No Remy, you don't understand we need to talk about something serious..."
"Well we're talking right now, say what you need to."
" I'd rather talk about this in private, I think I'm being followed and what I have to say can't reach the wrong ears."
She said in a deathly serious tone
I feel like I should say at this point that it's very hard to creep out an Incubus, but I was starting to get creepy vibes from this whole situation nevertheless and I was mentally calculating my escape route when a bright bolt of white hot plasma ripped through my left shoulder and sent me tumbling to the floor.
A sharp piercing scream rang out over the club music and I saw people scrambling in every direction to get away from the source of the shot.
It had been at least a few decades since the last time somebody had tried to murder me, so I was really out of practice when it came to processing pain, and holy shit did that plasma hurt. The wound had cauterized on it’s own almost instantly, which was the only up side of getting shot with modern weapons these days.
Excruciating pain filled my senses and time seemed to slow around me as adrenaline kicked in and I became hyper aware of everything happening around me. I was in a very literal sense seeing red. My eyes had turned from their typical color into the deep red glow of a demon in the throes of rage, and my face contorted into something terrifying and only vaguely human, at least I think it did. The look of sheer shock and abject terror that spread across Tanya’s face as she stared at me writhing in agony on the ground told me that whatever I looked like to her was not normal.
I stayed low to the ground and crawled across the floor with the kind of unnatural speed and grace one would see in a spider as I ducked and weaved through the crowd of people trying to escape the club. I spotted the first of my enemies standing over by one of the loudspeakers that pumped music into the club. He was a tall guy in a dark jacket with a hood pulled across his face. In his right hand he brandished a sleek looking black handgun with a brightly glowing energy cell where the magazine should have been.
I’d seen guns like that down here before. It was the kind of compact plasma weapon that was incredibly popular with the drug dealers and professional killers of the Engine Quarter. Since it seemed pretty clear that he wasn’t here to sell me drugs it was pretty obvious to me which one of those groups he belonged to.
The DJ who had been playing the clubs music had run out the front door as soon as the first shot had been fired leaving the music machines unattended, and as I got close enough to pounce on my attacker, the next song that had been queued up to play rang out over the loudspeakers, and the fast paced techno beats and sad, heartbroken lyrics of a remixed version of Deadmau 5’s Raise your Weapon acted as the soundtrack to our battle.
“ Ripping my heart was so easy, so easy”
A soft, feminene voice sang as I lunged up from the floor at the hooded killer in a frenzy, my hands transforming from typical human hands into long serrated black claws. He saw me at the last second and tried to fire off another shot of plasma. But I knocked the gun out of his hand and sent it clattering to the floor before I grabbed his left shoulder, sinking my claws into his flesh as I did, and pushed the claws of my right hand into the soft skin under his chin and up into his skull. He twitched and thrashed around in my grip as he died, and I was slightly disgusted by the wet, slick feeling of the blood and brains on my claws as I retracted them.
As the dead man fell to the floor I made a mental note to wash my hands before I left the club just in time to spot another hooded man who could have been a carbon copy of the first one, right down to the sleek black pistol standing by the entrance let out a shriek of surprise before firing a volley of bright plasma bolts at me and giving me no choice but to jump behind an overturned table nearby for cover.
“ Launch your assault now, take it easy”
Thinking quickly I ripped off a leg of the table and threw it at the second assailant hoping to impale him with it.
I wasn't that lucky, though it did manage to hit him square in the face. He yelped in pain and I could hear the sound of his nose breaking as he tumbled backwards. I took the opportunity to leap over the table as fast as I was able, which was in fact pretty damn fast, I doubt anybody watching the fight would have been able to follow my movements with their naked eyes but again I digress.
I was on the man before he had a chance to react and I used my claws to stick him like a pin cushion as many times as could before something hard and blunt struck my temple and filled my vision with white spots.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon."
Depending on how you looked at it, those particular lyrics of the song were either very well timed, or timed very poorly because when my vision cleared up enough for me to see who hit me I was greeted by the sight of yet another hooded hit man, though this one only vaguely resembled the other two.
He was at least two or three feet taller than the others and his muscles were fucking massive. They bulged through his jacket., it was not at all an exaggeration to say that he looked like a leather wrapped rhino on steroids.
In his hands he held what looked like a length of metal pipe, and I didn't really have a lot of time to reflect on how unprofessional it was for a professional killer to be using a fucking metal pipe before he raised it back over his head and swung at me again.
"One word and it's over."
I rolled out the way of the incoming blow and sliced out a chunk of the hooded behemoth's ankle as I rolled behind him.
I think I managed to cut his Achilles tendon because he fell over onto the floor gripping his ankle as he groaned in pain. I got a bit over confident after that, and tried to leap on top of the man and rip him to shreds like I had my previous attacker.
" Ripping through like a missile”
He flipped onto his back and caught me with both hands just before the impact and rolled the both of us over again so I was pinned under him while he started pummeling me with his huge fists. As blow after blow hit my face and I felt some of my teeth dislodge I decided that without a doubt this was the worst night I’d had in years, maybe even centuries. I tried to shield my face with my claws, but he hit way too hard and too fast than somebody his size should have been able to and I couldn’t do much about it. I started to see stars and black spots everywhere as the conscious world seemed to slip away from me.
"Ripping through my heart"
A deafening bang rang out from somewhere above me and the punches stopped almost as quickly as they had began. Warm blood and viscera spilled all over my face and I choked back the urge to vomit as I looked up to see half of my attackers head completely blown off.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon, and it's over."
Spitting some broken teeth out of my mouth, I used all the strength I had left to push the giant corpse off me as the music died down and the club fell silent.
I wondered what the fuck had just happened for maybe a moment before I looked over in the direction the sound had come from to see Mel standing nearby with an annoyed look on her face and a fucking smoking sawed-off shotgun of all things in her hands. I didn't think they still made those anymore since this was my first time seeing one in like forty years.
I let out a relieved sigh and made another mental note to give Mel a tip next time I bought a drink here.
" Mel, have I ever told you you're an angel?" I exclaimed with a grin.
"Take your little girlfriend and get the fuck out of my club before the law gets here."
She replied dismissively before she walked back behind the bar swearing under her breath as she went.
I had completely forgotten about Tanya. I looked around the now deserted night club as the dim red and purple rave lights flashed on and off, making it really difficult to see much of anything clearly.
I caught movement from under a table out of the corner of my eye and walked over to investigate. Surely enough, crouched and hiding beneath the table was Tanya. She nearly jumped out of her skin when I leaned down to talk to her.
" You can come out now, the bad guys are all very dead."
She came out from under the table slowly and cautiously with her eyes closed. She didn't keep them closed though, and when she did open them and saw the mutilated thugs on the floor she vomited all over the floor almost immedaitely.
"First time seeing dead people?"
I asked her in a tone that may have been a bit too casual given the circumstances.
She gave me a disgusted look before she vomited again and took a few minutes to catch her breath before she finally spoke.
"What the fuck… who...what are you?"
She asked between labored breaths.
"I'm kinda complicated babe. I don't have the time to give details but believe me when I say I'm a very very bad man and you don't want to get mixed up with me. I need to get out of here before the Justicars show up, so this'll probably be the last time we see each other, have a nice life, better luck with your next man."
I said flippantly as I turned to leave without another thought. I figured that seeing the guy you've been chasing sprout claws and turn a few guys into mince meat would be enough to scare away any woman and I wouldn't have to say anymore. Little did I know she more to say to me, and what she had to say would turn my world upside down.
"Remy wait!"
She yelled as she ran after me and I turned back to reply to her with clear agitation.
"Look babe, do I have to spell this out for you? I'm a demon, like a literal demon straight from the pits of Hell, not exactly the type you can bring home to momma and papa, so why don't you do us both a favor and find somebody else to sleep with?"
Bewilderment and disgust spread across her face before it was quickly replaced by indignant anger and she started yelling at me
" You sleazy, egotistical piece of shit! You think I've been looking all over this shit hole town for you because I want to sleep with you again?"
Now I was genuinely confused. I couldn't fathom what else she could have wanted.
"Well… yeah" I said kind of sheepishly
She scoffed at my response
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d never let you touch me again after what you did.”
“ Alright, then what the fuck do you want?” I shot back.
“ I needed to tell you something.”
“What? What could you possibly need to tell me that you’d go through all this trouble…”
“ I’m pregnant.” she said.
Life was never the same after that.
submitted by McSinister5674 to Horror_stories [link] [comments]


2020.09.10 22:44 McSinister5674 Caught naked by mother in law

No matter where you go or what kind of times you live in, the one thing that nearly every human being, whether you’re talking about men or women, young or old, has in common is desire. Desire of the physical and sexual sort of course but on a deeper level the desire to be cared about and loved, and it's that desire that feeds me. Who am I you might be wondering? Well you can call me Remy, it’s not the name I was born with but it's what everyone calls me so you might as well too. I’m what’s been called an Incubus, or a sex demon if you’re feeling particularly racist, and that desire is my life.
I’ve been called evil in the past, mostly by miserable assholes that want everyone else to be as miserable as them, but I don’t let it phase me, and you shouldn’t either. Trust me, my “victims” if you really want to call them that never go through any kind of pain, I hate violence and avoid it unless it’s absolutely necessary. In fact, they get to experience absolute bliss in the arms of the lover they always wanted while I get to feed on that wonderful life energy they won’t need anymore before they pass away like they’re falling asleep. Isn’t that how everybody wants to go? I’m doing a public service if you ask me.
Anyways I digress. My life isn’t all fun and games. Dead bodies, even of those that died happily tend to make people upset, and upset people ask questions, the kind of questions that make living in one place pretty difficult, so I move around a lot. The nomadic lifestyle has its perks, one of which is seeing far off and exotic places, and on the night my life changed forever, I was in one such exotic place, Ambia, The City in the Clouds.
Or more specifically, I was in some lowbrow club on the lower levels of the massive airships’s Engine Quarter, where the working class citizens of Ambia toiled long hours for shitty wages maintaining the City’s intricate propulsion systems so the whole damn thing didn’t plommet down to the ground below at the behest of wealthy politicians and a bloated, corrupt clergy. It was the kind of place where poverty and discontent walked hand in hand, where people felt trapped and hopeless, drinking away their stress and sorrow while they silently prayed that something, anything, would come along to make their lives worth living. In other words, it was the perfect place for me.
I had walked in and just sat down as I usually did, ordered a drink, and listened to the pulsating beats of the music around me while I waited for someone to talk to me. Someone always did. Now at this point you might be asking yourself what a sex demon looks like, since I always got somebody’s attention pretty much wherever I went and I wish I could tell you but to be honest I’m not entirely sure. Some legends will tell you that an Incubus is a shape-shifter, but this isn’t really true. People see in me what they desire, either sexually or emotionally, and everybody is different. Most everyone sees a man when they look at me, though that isn’t always the case. I once had a guy compliment my tits, that had been an interesting night. Aside from that, everything about me varies depending on who’s looking at me. Some people think I’m tall with red hair, others think I’m short and stocky with thick blond hair, there really isn’t any consistency, and I’ve never seen anything when I look in the mirror, just a blank space where a person should be. I guess it just comes with the territory.
On this particular night I was first approached by a plain looking man who spoke to me nervously and quietly, like he was doing something wrong merely by striking up a conversation. I was a bit surprised when he mentioned a wife, since by his slightly effeminate manner of speech and the fact that he kept stealing glances at my crotch throughout our converstion it seemed pretty clear he was a homosexual, but that kind of thing was fairly common in Ambia since the ruling clergy looked at intimate relations between men less than favourably. I didn't really mind. I have no particular preferences with humans when it comes to gender, a man's life force is just as nourishing as a woman's and variety is the slice of life. We talked for about an hour before he worked up the courage to ask if I wanted to go home with him, and I put on my most convincing excited face before I agreed.
We left the club and walked out onto the dimly lit street. The open sky wasn’t visible from the depths of the Engine Quarter, just the massive gears and serpentine metal supports that made up the skeleton of the city above. The only sources of light down here were the neon lights of the bars, clubs, brothels, and the Engine Core at the center of the Quarter.
It’s a reactor of sorts as far as I know, though I’m not a scientist or any other kind of egghead so don’t quote me on that. It stands towering above all the other structures in the Quarter and has a pale blue light at the top of that sort of looks like a miniature sun, though I think it’s much prettier than the real thing. I found myself staring at it absentmindedly as I paced down the crowded street past an assortment of rough looking types.
Drug-dealers, jaded looking hookers and their pimps, criminals looking to disappear into the crowd, and a few sorry sons of bitches that just didn’t have a roof to put over their heads passed by as I walked with this guy who’s name I can't recall and half-heartedly listened to as he spoke to me. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I was just really off my game that night in light of some weird shit that had been going on in my life not long before that, but I’ll cover that later.
Anyway we walked west from the club I think, passed a couple intersections while he talked my ear off about this and that, the usual stuff mostly, his shitty job crunching numbers for a boss he hated up in the Cloud Quarter where all the fat cats of Ambia lived the literal high life among the clouds, his deteriorating relationship with his wife who was getting more and more suspicious about his preferences, and the deep hole of debt he was in financially. I nodded and responded with a reassuring word when it was necessary, but my mind just wasn’t all there. When we finally did get back to his place I was a bit surprised by how nice it was.
Most folks that lived in the Engine Quarter could barely afford a run-down one bedroom apartment but this guy’s house was pretty posh, had a voice activated steel gate and everything. Beyond that was a modest driveway that led to a small yet upscale looking two-story house, the interior of which was painstakingly decorated to look like the inside of a house you’d see in the Cloud Quarter, clean and tidy with a few paintings on the walls that were probably very skilled forgeries of some paintings done by a handful of Ambia’s famous artists.
We barely got through the door before he pushed me up against a wall and started planting awkward, sloppy kisses on my neck and lower jaw while I more or less just went through the motions. I’m not one to kiss and tell so I won’t go into the raunchy details, but what I will say is that he surrendered his soul sooner than most. The whole ordeal took maybe 15 minutes.
His soul tasted bittersweet, almost like blueberries, which didn't come as much of a surprise, the really lonely ones always did.
After I'd eaten my fill, I pushed the freshly made dead man off my chest where he had been laying and made my way out of the house and back onto the street, trying not to be too conspicuous as I did.
I wasn't too worried about being noticed since I was pretty much positive that no one would ever be able to give an accurate description of me, but my Dad always used to tell me you could never be too careful, and before you ask, yes I had a father like just like anybody else and sure he was a black hearted bastard with a taste for dark sorcery and wanton cruelty, but he had smart shit to say every now and again.
I glanced at my watch after I made it back onto the crowded, trash filled street which read 10:45pm. Since the night was still young and I was still a bit hungry I made my way over to The Thirst, a dilapidated old building that I'm told used to be a pretty upscale resort of some kind back when the Engine Quarter was still the kind of place where respectable types came to spend their money.
Nowadays however it was just another seedy nightclub, though it was the closest thing you could get down here to a classy establishment.
I went there fairly often against my better judgement. I had a rule not to pick up too many people from the same place, since that would make it fairly obvious to any body who might be investigating my particular career where I liked to hang out, but there was just something about the place that made me keep coming back.
Maybe it was the ambiance, maybe it was the surprisingly good food and cheap liquor, or maybe it was Mel, that good natured if slightly jaded woman that stood behind the bar who always poured and mixed my drinks just right, and could always make me laugh when I was having a bad night.
That night she had a look that was somewhere between deeply concerned, and disappointed on her face as I made my way up to the bar counter. When she spoke to me, She had the tone of a mother questioning a child that had been up to no good.
" What the Hell have you been doing Remy?"
I did my best to sound both surprised and indignant with my response.
" What the Hell are you talking about Mel? I ain't done anything to anybody and whoever says otherwise is a damn liar!"
She didn’t believe me, but instead of pressing me further, she let out an exasperated sigh and said
“ That girl’s been back in here asking about you, and Justicars have been in here asking about her.”
I didn’t think it was possible to fit so much bad news into a single sentence like that. If you don’t know what a Justicar is you should count yourself lucky, because that means you’ve probably never met one. In theory, they’re supposed to be the black armored keepers of law and order in Ambia but in reality they are better described as mentally unhinged sociopaths with severe inferiority complexes and high end plasma weapons.
I’ve done a pretty good job of avoiding them so far, but hearing that they’ve been poking around my favorite club is more than a little unnerving, and the girl... well, the girl is complicated.
I think her name’s Tina or something close to that. Definitely starts with a T. I met her here at the Thirst a few months ago when I first got to Ambia. I remember that she had this fish out of water look on her face when I spotted her from where I sat at the bar, like she'd never been in a nightclub before.
She wasn't the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, but she was most certainly not ugly either. Her brown hair was about shoulder length, and her soft blue eyes had a strange way of holding your attention. She looked like she took care of herself, far too much so for her to have been from the Engine Quarter, and she carried herself like she came from money.
Perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps out of sheer boredom, I approached her rather than waiting for her to approach me.
We hit it off pretty well and got to talking for what must have been hours. I don't remember the details clearly but she told me her father was some kind of big shot up in the Cloud Quarter and that she hated his fucking guts. According to her he was an oppressive piece of shit that tried to control every aspect of her life from what kind of studies she was allowed to pursue to what kind of clothes she was allowed to wear, and that she had come down to the very bowels of Ambia to escape from him, if only for a little while.
Having had first hand experience with terrible fathers myself, I found that pretty easy to relate to and shared with her some things I had hated about my own father without giving away too much about myself.
She seemed really taken with me by the end of our conversation, which wasn't unusual, but what was unusual was that I almost felt bad about what I knew would happen to her later that night, and that wasn't very much like me at all.
We left the club an hour or two before dawn. I remember her clutching my arm tenderly as we walked through the dark streets toward the shabby hotel room I was renting under a false name at the time. Up to this point, this had been a routine night for me, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary from picking someone up at a club at the beginning of the night, to the sex back at the hotel room with the intent of satisfying what some have called my “unholy appetites” at the end of the night.
What had been unusual, or rather what should not have been possible was that I had been unable to devour her soul during our intimate encounter. She survived the entire process seemingly unscathed, in fact she didn't even seem to notice my attempts to leech her life force. It was almost like she radiated some kind of power that nullified my own.
That had never happened even once before. In my several centuries of existence I'd never met anyone that was immune to my powers like she seemed to be, and it fucking terrified me.
Not really knowing what else to do, I left the room as soon as she fell asleep and haven't seen her since. I had hoped that once she got over her hurt feelings she would return to the Cloud Quarter and get on with her life in a place where I would never have to see her again, but it seemed that she was much more tenacious than I thought she would be.
Over the past few months, I've heard through the grapevine that she'd been going to almost every night club in the Engine Quarter searching for me, and bringing the Justicars down here after her by the sound of it for some reason.
The whole thing was turning into a huge fucking mess. That kind of attention on my feeding grounds made life very hard for me, and I didn't like that one bit.
I sat there thinking about what rotten fucking luck I'd had in this city, and trying to think of a way out of it for a few minutes before Mel's expectant and irritated voice brought me back to reality.
"Well? What do you got to say about all this shit Remy? I can't have the law coming in here every other night looking for one of your little spurned sweethearts! It's killing my business!"
" She's not a "spurned sweetheart" Mel. This shit is just a big misunderstanding."
I said defensively.
"Well then why don't you explain that to her next time you see her."
" I'm not really trying to run into her again"
"Well, it's too late for that."
She replied with a smirk as she gestured to something behind me. My heart sank even before I heard that familiar voice call out to me.
"Remy!"
I turned around on the bar stool to see that same girl with the soft blue eyes from months earlier pushing almost desperately through the crowd to reach me and I cringed a little inside.
I turned back around and tried to make myself as small as possible while Mel giggled at my expense.
"You're a cold-hearted bitch Mel."
I groaned.
"And you're a sleazy shit stain."
She shot back. I didn't really have a comeback for that. Instead I just let out a deep sigh and turned around just in time to come face to face with Tina or whatever her name was, prepared to break her heart a for second time and get on with my night.
She looked absolutely ecstatic to see me. Which made what I was going to say all the more awkward.
"Remy! I've been looking for you forever! We need to talk.."
"Listen.. Tina." I started
"Tanya" she corrected looking slightly perplexed by my mistake.
"Tanya… that was a one time thing. I don't want to hurt your feelings but I'm not really looking to get deeply involved with someone right now.."
"No Remy, you don't understand we need to talk about something serious..."
"Well we're talking right now, say what you need to."
" I'd rather talk about this in private, I think I'm being followed and what I have to say can't reach the wrong ears."
She said in a deathly serious tone
I feel like I should say at this point that it's very hard to creep out an Incubus, but I was starting to get creepy vibes from this whole situation nevertheless and I was mentally calculating my escape route when a bright bolt of white hot plasma ripped through my left shoulder and sent me tumbling to the floor.
A sharp piercing scream rang out over the club music and I saw people scrambling in every direction to get away from the source of the shot.
It had been at least a few decades since the last time somebody had tried to murder me, so I was really out of practice when it came to processing pain, and holy shit did that plasma hurt. The wound had cauterized on it’s own almost instantly, which was the only up side of getting shot with modern weapons these days.
Excruciating pain filled my senses and time seemed to slow around me as adrenaline kicked in and I became hyper aware of everything happening around me. I was in a very literal sense seeing red. My eyes had turned from their typical color into the deep red glow of a demon in the throes of rage, and my face contorted into something terrifying and only vaguely human, at least I think it did. The look of sheer shock and abject terror that spread across Tanya’s face as she stared at me writhing in agony on the ground told me that whatever I looked like to her was not not normal.
I stayed low to the ground and crawled across the floor with the kind of unnatural speed and grace one would see in a spider as I ducked and weaved through the crowd of people trying to escape the club. I spotted the first of my enemies standing over by one of the loudspeakers that pumped music into the club. He was a tall guy in a dark jacket with a hood pulled across his face. In his right hand he brandished a sleek looking black handgun with a brightly glowing energy cell where the magazine should have been.
I’d seen guns like that down here before. It was the kind of compact plasma weapon that was incredibly popular with the drug dealers and professional killers of the Engine Quarter. Since it seemed pretty clear that he wasn’t here to sell me drugs it was pretty obvious to me which one of those groups he belonged to.
The DJ who had been playing the clubs music had run out the front door as soon as the first shot had been fired leaving the music machines unattended, and as I got close enough to pounce on my attacker, the next song that had been queued up to play rang out over the loudspeakers, and the fast paced techno beats and sad, heartbroken lyrics of a remixed version of Deadmau 5’s Raise your Weapon acted as the soundtrack to our battle.
“ Ripping my heart was so easy, so easy”
A soft, feminene voice sang as I lunged up from the floor at the hooded killer in a frenzy, my hands transforming from typical human hands into long serrated black claws. He saw me at the last second and tried to fire off another shot of plasma. But I knocked the gun out of his hand and sent it clattering to the floor before I grabbed his left shoulder, sinking my claws into his flesh as I did, and pushed the claws of my right hand into the soft skin under his chin and up into his skull. He twitched and thrashed around in my grip as he died, and I was slightly disgusted by the wet, slick feeling of the blood and brains on my claws as I retracted them.
As the dead man fell to the floor I made a mental note to wash my hands before I left the club just in time to spot another hooded man who could have been a carbon copy of the first one, right down to the sleek black pistol standing by the entrance let out a shriek of surprise before firing a volley of bright plasma bolts at me and giving me no choice but to jump behind an overturned table nearby for cover.
“ Launch your assault now, take it easy”
Thinking quickly I ripped off a leg of the table and threw it at the second assailant hoping to impale him with it.
I wasn't that lucky, though it did manage to hit him square in the face. He yelped in pain and I could hear the sound of his nose breaking as he tumbled backwards. I took the opportunity to leap over the table as fast as I was able, which was in fact pretty damn fast, I doubt anybody watching the fight would have been able to follow my movements with their naked eyes but again I digress.
I was on the man before he had a chance to react and I used my claws to stick him like a pin cushion as many times as could before something hard and blunt struck my temple and filled my vision with white spots.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon."
Depending on how you looked at it, those particular lyrics of the song were either very well timed, or timed very poorly because when my vision cleared up enough for me to see who hit me I was greeted by the sight of yet another hooded hit man, though this one only vaguely resembled the other two.
He was at least two or three feet taller than the others and his muscles were fucking massive. They bulged through his jacket., it was not at all an exaggeration to say that he looked like a leather wrapped rhino on steroids.
In his hands he held what looked like a length of metal pipe, and I didn't really have a lot of time to reflect on how unprofessional it was for a professional killer to be using a fucking metal pipe before he raised it back over his head and swung at me again.
"One word and it's over."
I rolled out the way of the incoming blow and sliced out a chunk of the hooded behemoth's ankle as I rolled behind him.
I think I managed to cut his Achilles tendon because he fell over onto the floor gripping his ankle as he groaned in pain. I got a bit over confident after that, and tried to leap on top of the man and rip him to shreds like I had my previous attacker.
" Ripping through like a missile”
He flipped onto his back and caught me with both hands just before the impact and rolled the both of us over again so I was pinned under him while he started pummeling me with his huge fists. As blow after blow hit my face and I felt some of my teeth dislodge I decided that without a doubt this was the worst night I’d had in years, maybe even centuries. I tried to shield my face with my claws, but he hit way too hard and too fast than somebody his size should have been able to and I couldn’t do much about it. I started to see stars and black spots everywhere as the conscious world seemed to slip away from me.
"Ripping through my heart"
A deafening bang rang out from somewhere above me and the punches stopped almost as quickly as they had began. Warm blood and viscera spilled all over my face and I choked back the urge to vomit as I looked up to see half of my attackers head completely blown off.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon, and it's over."
Spitting some broken teeth out of my mouth, I used all the strength I had left to push the giant corpse off me as the music died down and the club fell silent.
I wondered what the fuck had just happened for maybe a moment before I looked over in the direction the sound had come from to see Mel standing nearby with an annoyed look on her face and a fucking smoking sawed-off shotgun of all things in her hands. I didn't think they still made those anymore since this was my first time seeing one in like forty years.
I let out a relieved sigh and made another mental note to give Mel a tip next time I bought a drink here.
" Mel, have I ever told you you're an angel?" I exclaimed with a grin.
"Take your little girlfriend and get the fuck out of my club before the law gets here."
She replied dismissively before she walked back behind the bar swearing under her breath as she went.
I had completely forgotten about Tanya. I looked around the now deserted night club as the dim red and purple rave lights flashed on and off, making it really difficult to see much of anything clearly.
I caught movement from under a table out of the corner of my eye and walked over to investigate. Surely enough, crouched and hiding beneath the table was Tanya. She nearly jumped out of her skin when I leaned down to talk to her.
" You can come out now, the bad guys are all very dead."
She came out from under the table slowly and cautiously with her eyes closed. She didn't keep them closed though, and when she did open them and saw the mutilated thugs on the floor she vomited all over the floor almost immedaitely.
"First time seeing dead people?"
I asked her in a tone that may have been a bit too casual given the circumstances.
She gave me a disgusted look before she vomited again and took a few minutes to catch her breath before she finally spoke.
"What the fuck… who...what are you?"
She asked between labored breaths.
"I'm kinda complicated babe. I don't have the time to give details but believe me when I say I'm a very very bad man and you don't want to get mixed up with me. I need to get out of here before the Justicars show up, so this'll probably be the last time we see each other, have a nice life, better luck with your next man."
I said flippantly as I turned to leave without another thought. I figured that seeing the guy you've been chasing sprout claws and turn a few guys into mince meat would be enough to scare away any woman and I wouldn't have to say anymore. Little did I know she more to say to me, and what she had to say would turn my world upside down.
"Remy wait!"
She yelled as she ran after me and I turned back to reply to her with clear agitation.
"Look babe, do I have to spell this out for you? I'm a demon, like a literal demon straight from the pits of Hell, not exactly the type you can bring home to momma and papa, so why don't you do us both a favor and find somebody else to sleep with?"
Bewilderment and disgust spread across her face before it was quickly replaced by indignant anger and she started yelling at me
" You sleazy, egotistical piece of shit! You think I've been looking all over this shit hole town for you because I want to sleep with you again?"
Now I was genuinely confused. I couldn't fathom what else she could have wanted.
"Well… yeah" I said kind of sheepishly
She scoffed at my response
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d never let you touch me again after what you did.”
“ Alright, then what the fuck do you want?” I shot back.
“ I needed to tell you something.”
“What? What could you possibly need to tell me that you’d go through all this trouble…”
“ I’m pregnant.” she said.
Life was never the same after that.
submitted by McSinister5674 to stories [link] [comments]


2020.09.10 22:42 McSinister5674 Caught naked by mother in law

No matter where you go or what kind of times you live in, the one thing that nearly every human being, whether you’re talking about men or women, young or old, has in common is desire. Desire of the physical and sexual sort of course but on a deeper level the desire to be cared about and loved, and it's that desire that feeds me. Who am I you might be wondering? Well you can call me Remy, it’s not the name I was born with but it's what everyone calls me so you might as well too. I’m what’s been called an Incubus, or a sex demon if you’re feeling particularly racist, and that desire is my life.
I’ve been called evil in the past, mostly by miserable assholes that want everyone else to be as miserable as them, but I don’t let it phase me, and you shouldn’t either. Trust me, my “victims” if you really want to call them that never go through any kind of pain, I hate violence and avoid it unless it’s absolutely necessary. In fact, they get to experience absolute bliss in the arms of the lover they always wanted while I get to feed on that wonderful life energy they won’t need anymore before they pass away like they’re falling asleep. Isn’t that how everybody wants to go? I’m doing a public service if you ask me.
Anyways I digress. My life isn’t all fun and games. Dead bodies, even of those that died happily tend to make people upset, and upset people ask questions, the kind of questions that make living in one place pretty difficult, so I move around a lot. The nomadic lifestyle has its perks, one of which is seeing far off and exotic places, and on the night my life changed forever, I was in one such exotic place, Ambia, The City in the Clouds.
Or more specifically, I was in some lowbrow club on the lower levels of the massive airships’s Engine Quarter, where the working class citizens of Ambia toiled long hours for shitty wages maintaining the City’s intricate propulsion systems so the whole damn thing didn’t plommet down to the ground below at the behest of wealthy politicians and a bloated, corrupt clergy. It was the kind of place where poverty and discontent walked hand in hand, where people felt trapped and hopeless, drinking away their stress and sorrow while they silently prayed that something, anything, would come along to make their lives worth living. In other words, it was the perfect place for me.
I had walked in and just sat down as I usually did, ordered a drink, and listened to the pulsating beats of the music around me while I waited for someone to talk to me. Someone always did. Now at this point you might be asking yourself what a sex demon looks like, since I always got somebody’s attention pretty much wherever I went and I wish I could tell you but to be honest I’m not entirely sure. Some legends will tell you that an Incubus is a shape-shifter, but this isn’t really true. People see in me what they desire, either sexually or emotionally, and everybody is different. Most everyone sees a man when they look at me, though that isn’t always the case. I once had a guy compliment my tits, that had been an interesting night. Aside from that, everything about me varies depending on who’s looking at me. Some people think I’m tall with red hair, others think I’m short and stocky with thick blond hair, there really isn’t any consistency, and I’ve never seen anything when I look in the mirror, just a blank space where a person should be. I guess it just comes with the territory.
On this particular night I was first approached by a plain looking man who spoke to me nervously and quietly, like he was doing something wrong merely by striking up a conversation. I was a bit surprised when he mentioned a wife, since by his slightly effeminate manner of speech and the fact that he kept stealing glances at my crotch throughout our converstion it seemed pretty clear he was a homosexual, but that kind of thing was fairly common in Ambia since the ruling clergy looked at intimate relations between men less than favourably. I didn't really mind. I have no particular preferences with humans when it comes to gender, a man's life force is just as nourishing as a woman's and variety is the slice of life. We talked for about an hour before he worked up the courage to ask if I wanted to go home with him, and I put on my most convincing excited face before I agreed.
We left the club and walked out onto the dimly lit street. The open sky wasn’t visible from the depths of the Engine Quarter, just the massive gears and serpentine metal supports that made up the skeleton of the city above. The only sources of light down here were the neon lights of the bars, clubs, brothels, and the Engine Core at the center of the Quarter.
It’s a reactor of sorts as far as I know, though I’m not a scientist or any other kind of egghead so don’t quote me on that. It stands towering above all the other structures in the Quarter and has a pale blue light at the top of that sort of looks like a miniature sun, though I think it’s much prettier than the real thing. I found myself staring at it absentmindedly as I paced down the crowded street past an assortment of rough looking types.
Drug-dealers, jaded looking hookers and their pimps, criminals looking to disappear into the crowd, and a few sorry sons of bitches that just didn’t have a roof to put over their heads passed by as I walked with this guy who’s name I can't recall and half-heartedly listened to as he spoke to me. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I was just really off my game that night in light of some weird shit that had been going on in my life not long before that, but I’ll cover that later.
Anyway we walked west from the club I think, passed a couple intersections while he talked my ear off about this and that, the usual stuff mostly, his shitty job crunching numbers for a boss he hated up in the Cloud Quarter where all the fat cats of Ambia lived the literal high life among the clouds, his deteriorating relationship with his wife who was getting more and more suspicious about his preferences, and the deep hole of debt he was in financially. I nodded and responded with a reassuring word when it was necessary, but my mind just wasn’t all there. When we finally did get back to his place I was a bit surprised by how nice it was.
Most folks that lived in the Engine Quarter could barely afford a run-down one bedroom apartment but this guy’s house was pretty posh, had a voice activated steel gate and everything. Beyond that was a modest driveway that led to a small yet upscale looking two-story house, the interior of which was painstakingly decorated to look like the inside of a house you’d see in the Cloud Quarter, clean and tidy with a few paintings on the walls that were probably very skilled forgeries of some paintings done by a handful of Ambia’s famous artists.
We barely got through the door before he pushed me up against a wall and started planting awkward, sloppy kisses on my neck and lower jaw while I more or less just went through the motions. I’m not one to kiss and tell so I won’t go into the raunchy details, but what I will say is that he surrendered his soul sooner than most. The whole ordeal took maybe 15 minutes.
His soul tasted bittersweet, almost like blueberries, which didn't come as much of a surprise, the really lonely ones always did.
After I'd eaten my fill, I pushed the freshly made dead man off my chest where he had been laying and made my way out of the house and back onto the street, trying not to be too conspicuous as I did.
I wasn't too worried about being noticed since I was pretty much positive that no one would ever be able to give an accurate description of me, but my Dad always used to tell me you could never be too careful, and before you ask, yes I had a father like just like anybody else and sure he was a black hearted bastard with a taste for dark sorcery and wanton cruelty, but he had smart shit to say every now and again.
I glanced at my watch after I made it back onto the crowded, trash filled street which read 10:45pm. Since the night was still young and I was still a bit hungry I made my way over to The Thirst, a dilapidated old building that I'm told used to be a pretty upscale resort of some kind back when the Engine Quarter was still the kind of place where respectable types came to spend their money.
Nowadays however it was just another seedy nightclub, though it was the closest thing you could get down here to a classy establishment.
I went there fairly often against my better judgement. I had a rule not to pick up too many people from the same place, since that would make it fairly obvious to any body who might be investigating my particular career where I liked to hang out, but there was just something about the place that made me keep coming back.
Maybe it was the ambiance, maybe it was the surprisingly good food and cheap liquor, or maybe it was Mel, that good natured if slightly jaded woman that stood behind the bar who always poured and mixed my drinks just right, and could always make me laugh when I was having a bad night.
That night she had a look that was somewhere between deeply concerned, and disappointed on her face as I made my way up to the bar counter. When she spoke to me, She had the tone of a mother questioning a child that had been up to no good.
" What the Hell have you been doing Remy?"
I did my best to sound both surprised and indignant with my response.
" What the Hell are you talking about Mel? I ain't done anything to anybody and whoever says otherwise is a damn liar!"
She didn’t believe me, but instead of pressing me further, she let out an exasperated sigh and said
“ That girl’s been back in here asking about you, and Justicars have been in here asking about her.”
I didn’t think it was possible to fit so much bad news into a single sentence like that. If you don’t know what a Justicar is you should count yourself lucky, because that means you’ve probably never met one. In theory, they’re supposed to be the black armored keepers of law and order in Ambia but in reality they are better described as mentally unhinged sociopaths with severe inferiority complexes and high end plasma weapons.
I’ve done a pretty good job of avoiding them so far, but hearing that they’ve been poking around my favorite club is more than a little unnerving, and the girl... well, the girl is complicated.
I think her name’s Tina or something close to that. Definitely starts with a T. I met her here at the Thirst a few months ago when I first got to Ambia. I remember that she had this fish out of water look on her face when I spotted her from where I sat at the bar, like she'd never been in a nightclub before.
She wasn't the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, but she was most certainly not ugly either. Her brown hair was about shoulder length, and her soft blue eyes had a strange way of holding your attention. She looked like she took care of herself, far too much so for her to have been from the Engine Quarter, and she carried herself like she came from money.
Perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps out of sheer boredom, I approached her rather than waiting for her to approach me.
We hit it off pretty well and got to talking for what must have been hours. I don't remember the details clearly but she told me her father was some kind of big shot up in the Cloud Quarter and that she hated his fucking guts. According to her he was an oppressive piece of shit that tried to control every aspect of her life from what kind of studies she was allowed to pursue to what kind of clothes she was allowed to wear, and that she had come down to the very bowels of Ambia to escape from him, if only for a little while.
Having had first hand experience with terrible fathers myself, I found that pretty easy to relate to and shared with her some things I had hated about my own father without giving away too much about myself.
She seemed really taken with me by the end of our conversation, which wasn't unusual, but what was unusual was that I almost felt bad about what I knew would happen to her later that night, and that wasn't very much like me at all.
We left the club an hour or two before dawn. I remember her clutching my arm tenderly as we walked through the dark streets toward the shabby hotel room I was renting under a false name at the time. Up to this point, this had been a routine night for me, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary from picking someone up at a club at the beginning of the night, to the sex back at the hotel room with the intent of satisfying what some have called my “unholy appetites” at the end of the night.
What had been unusual, or rather what should not have been possible was that I had been unable to devour her soul during our intimate encounter. She survived the entire process seemingly unscathed, in fact she didn't even seem to notice my attempts to leech her life force. It was almost like she radiated some kind of power that nullified my own.
That had never happened even once before. In my several centuries of existence I'd never met anyone that was immune to my powers like she seemed to be, and it fucking terrified me.
Not really knowing what else to do, I left the room as soon as she fell asleep and haven't seen her since. I had hoped that once she got over her hurt feelings she would return to the Cloud Quarter and get on with her life in a place where I would never have to see her again, but it seemed that she was much more tenacious than I thought she would be.
Over the past few months, I've heard through the grapevine that she'd been going to almost every night club in the Engine Quarter searching for me, and bringing the Justicars down here after her by the sound of it for some reason.
The whole thing was turning into a huge fucking mess. That kind of attention on my feeding grounds made life very hard for me, and I didn't like that one bit.
I sat there thinking about what rotten fucking luck I'd had in this city, and trying to think of a way out of it for a few minutes before Mel's expectant and irritated voice brought me back to reality.
"Well? What do you got to say about all this shit Remy? I can't have the law coming in here every other night looking for one of your little spurned sweethearts! It's killing my business!"
" She's not a "spurned sweetheart" Mel. This shit is just a big misunderstanding."
I said defensively.
"Well then why don't you explain that to her next time you see her."
" I'm not really trying to run into her again"
"Well, it's too late for that."
She replied with a smirk as she gestured to something behind me. My heart sank even before I heard that familiar voice call out to me.
"Remy!"
I turned around on the bar stool to see that same girl with the soft blue eyes from months earlier pushing almost desperately through the crowd to reach me and I cringed a little inside.
I turned back around and tried to make myself as small as possible while Mel giggled at my expense.
"You're a cold-hearted bitch Mel."
I groaned.
"And you're a sleazy shit stain."
She shot back. I didn't really have a comeback for that. Instead I just let out a deep sigh and turned around just in time to come face to face with Tina or whatever her name was, prepared to break her heart a for second time and get on with my night.
She looked absolutely ecstatic to see me. Which made what I was going to say all the more awkward.
"Remy! I've been looking for you forever! We need to talk.."
"Listen.. Tina." I started
"Tanya" she corrected looking slightly perplexed by my mistake.
"Tanya… that was a one time thing. I don't want to hurt your feelings but I'm not really looking to get deeply involved with someone right now.."
"No Remy, you don't understand we need to talk about something serious..."
"Well we're talking right now, say what you need to."
" I'd rather talk about this in private, I think I'm being followed and what I have to say can't reach the wrong ears."
She said in a deathly serious tone
I feel like I should say at this point that it's very hard to creep out an Incubus, but I was starting to get creepy vibes from this whole situation nevertheless and I was mentally calculating my escape route when a bright bolt of white hot plasma ripped through my left shoulder and sent me tumbling to the floor.
A sharp piercing scream rang out over the club music and I saw people scrambling in every direction to get away from the source of the shot.
It had been at least a few decades since the last time somebody had tried to murder me, so I was really out of practice when it came to processing pain, and holy shit did that plasma hurt. The wound had cauterized on it’s own almost instantly, which was the only up side of getting shot with modern weapons these days.
Excruciating pain filled my senses and time seemed to slow around me as adrenaline kicked in and I became hyper aware of everything happening around me. I was in a very literal sense seeing red. My eyes had turned from their typical color into the deep red glow of a demon in the throes of rage, and my face contorted into something terrifying and only vaguely human, at least I think it did. The look of sheer shock and abject terror that spread across Tanya’s face as she stared at me writhing in agony on the ground told me that whatever I looked like to her was not not normal.
I stayed low to the ground and crawled across the floor with the kind of unnatural speed and grace one would see in a spider as I ducked and weaved through the crowd of people trying to escape the club. I spotted the first of my enemies standing over by one of the loudspeakers that pumped music into the club. He was a tall guy in a dark jacket with a hood pulled across his face. In his right hand he brandished a sleek looking black handgun with a brightly glowing energy cell where the magazine should have been.
I’d seen guns like that down here before. It was the kind of compact plasma weapon that was incredibly popular with the drug dealers and professional killers of the Engine Quarter. Since it seemed pretty clear that he wasn’t here to sell me drugs it was pretty obvious to me which one of those groups he belonged to.
The DJ who had been playing the clubs music had run out the front door as soon as the first shot had been fired leaving the music machines unattended, and as I got close enough to pounce on my attacker, the next song that had been queued up to play rang out over the loudspeakers, and the fast paced techno beats and sad, heartbroken lyrics of a remixed version of Deadmau 5’s Raise your Weapon acted as the soundtrack to our battle.
“ Ripping my heart was so easy, so easy”
A soft, feminene voice sang as I lunged up from the floor at the hooded killer in a frenzy, my hands transforming from typical human hands into long serrated black claws. He saw me at the last second and tried to fire off another shot of plasma. But I knocked the gun out of his hand and sent it clattering to the floor before I grabbed his left shoulder, sinking my claws into his flesh as I did, and pushed the claws of my right hand into the soft skin under his chin and up into his skull. He twitched and thrashed around in my grip as he died, and I was slightly disgusted by the wet, slick feeling of the blood and brains on my claws as I retracted them.
As the dead man fell to the floor I made a mental note to wash my hands before I left the club just in time to spot another hooded man who could have been a carbon copy of the first one, right down to the sleek black pistol standing by the entrance let out a shriek of surprise before firing a volley of bright plasma bolts at me and giving me no choice but to jump behind an overturned table nearby for cover.
“ Launch your assault now, take it easy”
Thinking quickly I ripped off a leg of the table and threw it at the second assailant hoping to impale him with it.
I wasn't that lucky, though it did manage to hit him square in the face. He yelped in pain and I could hear the sound of his nose breaking as he tumbled backwards. I took the opportunity to leap over the table as fast as I was able, which was in fact pretty damn fast, I doubt anybody watching the fight would have been able to follow my movements with their naked eyes but again I digress.
I was on the man before he had a chance to react and I used my claws to stick him like a pin cushion as many times as could before something hard and blunt struck my temple and filled my vision with white spots.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon."
Depending on how you looked at it, those particular lyrics of the song were either very well timed, or timed very poorly because when my vision cleared up enough for me to see who hit me I was greeted by the sight of yet another hooded hit man, though this one only vaguely resembled the other two.
He was at least two or three feet taller than the others and his muscles were fucking massive. They bulged through his jacket., it was not at all an exaggeration to say that he looked like a leather wrapped rhino on steroids.
In his hands he held what looked like a length of metal pipe, and I didn't really have a lot of time to reflect on how unprofessional it was for a professional killer to be using a fucking metal pipe before he raised it back over his head and swung at me again.
"One word and it's over."
I rolled out the way of the incoming blow and sliced out a chunk of the hooded behemoth's ankle as I rolled behind him.
I think I managed to cut his Achilles tendon because he fell over onto the floor gripping his ankle as he groaned in pain. I got a bit over confident after that, and tried to leap on top of the man and rip him to shreds like I had my previous attacker.
" Ripping through like a missile”
He flipped onto his back and caught me with both hands just before the impact and rolled the both of us over again so I was pinned under him while he started pummeling me with his huge fists. As blow after blow hit my face and I felt some of my teeth dislodge I decided that without a doubt this was the worst night I’d had in years, maybe even centuries. I tried to shield my face with my claws, but he hit way too hard and too fast than somebody his size should have been able to and I couldn’t do much about it. I started to see stars and black spots everywhere as the conscious world seemed to slip away from me.
"Ripping through my heart"
A deafening bang rang out from somewhere above me and the punches stopped almost as quickly as they had began. Warm blood and viscera spilled all over my face and I choked back the urge to vomit as I looked up to see half of my attackers head completely blown off.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon, and it's over."
Spitting some broken teeth out of my mouth, I used all the strength I had left to push the giant corpse off me as the music died down and the club fell silent.
I wondered what the fuck had just happened for maybe a moment before I looked over in the direction the sound had come from to see Mel standing nearby with an annoyed look on her face and a fucking smoking sawed-off shotgun of all things in her hands. I didn't think they still made those anymore since this was my first time seeing one in like forty years.
I let out a relieved sigh and made another mental note to give Mel a tip next time I bought a drink here.
" Mel, have I ever told you you're an angel?" I exclaimed with a grin.
"Take your little girlfriend and get the fuck out of my club before the law gets here."
She replied dismissively before she walked back behind the bar swearing under her breath as she went.
I had completely forgotten about Tanya. I looked around the now deserted night club as the dim red and purple rave lights flashed on and off, making it really difficult to see much of anything clearly.
I caught movement from under a table out of the corner of my eye and walked over to investigate. Surely enough, crouched and hiding beneath the table was Tanya. She nearly jumped out of her skin when I leaned down to talk to her.
" You can come out now, the bad guys are all very dead."
She came out from under the table slowly and cautiously with her eyes closed. She didn't keep them closed though, and when she did open them and saw the mutilated thugs on the floor she vomited all over the floor almost immedaitely.
"First time seeing dead people?"
I asked her in a tone that may have been a bit too casual given the circumstances.
She gave me a disgusted look before she vomited again and took a few minutes to catch her breath before she finally spoke.
"What the fuck… who...what are you?"
She asked between labored breaths.
"I'm kinda complicated babe. I don't have the time to give details but believe me when I say I'm a very very bad man and you don't want to get mixed up with me. I need to get out of here before the Justicars show up, so this'll probably be the last time we see each other, have a nice life, better luck with your next man."
I said flippantly as I turned to leave without another thought. I figured that seeing the guy you've been chasing sprout claws and turn a few guys into mince meat would be enough to scare away any woman and I wouldn't have to say anymore. Little did I know she more to say to me, and what she had to say would turn my world upside down.
"Remy wait!"
She yelled as she ran after me and I turned back to reply to her with clear agitation.
"Look babe, do I have to spell this out for you? I'm a demon, like a literal demon straight from the pits of Hell, not exactly the type you can bring home to momma and papa, so why don't you do us both a favor and find somebody else to sleep with?"
Bewilderment and disgust spread across her face before it was quickly replaced by indignant anger and she started yelling at me
" You sleazy, egotistical piece of shit! You think I've been looking all over this shit hole town for you because I want to sleep with you again?"
Now I was genuinely confused. I couldn't fathom what else she could have wanted.
"Well… yeah" I said kind of sheepishly
She scoffed at my response
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d never let you touch me again after what you did.”
“ Alright, then what the fuck do you want?” I shot back.
“ I needed to tell you something.”
“What? What could you possibly need to tell me that you’d go through all this trouble…”
“ I’m pregnant.” she said.
Life was never the same after that.
submitted by McSinister5674 to creepypasta [link] [comments]


2020.09.10 22:41 McSinister5674 Memoirs of an Incubus: Part one

No matter where you go or what kind of times you live in, the one thing that nearly every human being, whether you’re talking about men or women, young or old, has in common is desire. Desire of the physical and sexual sort of course but on a deeper level the desire to be cared about and loved, and it's that desire that feeds me. Who am I you might be wondering? Well you can call me Remy, it’s not the name I was born with but it's what everyone calls me so you might as well too. I’m what’s been called an Incubus, or a sex demon if you’re feeling particularly racist, and that desire is my life.
I’ve been called evil in the past, mostly by miserable assholes that want everyone else to be as miserable as them, but I don’t let it phase me, and you shouldn’t either. Trust me, my “victims” if you really want to call them that never go through any kind of pain, I hate violence and avoid it unless it’s absolutely necessary. In fact, they get to experience absolute bliss in the arms of the lover they always wanted while I get to feed on that wonderful life energy they won’t need anymore before they pass away like they’re falling asleep. Isn’t that how everybody wants to go? I’m doing a public service if you ask me.
Anyways I digress. My life isn’t all fun and games. Dead bodies, even of those that died happily tend to make people upset, and upset people ask questions, the kind of questions that make living in one place pretty difficult, so I move around a lot. The nomadic lifestyle has its perks, one of which is seeing far off and exotic places, and on the night my life changed forever, I was in one such exotic place, Ambia, The City in the Clouds.
Or more specifically, I was in some lowbrow club on the lower levels of the massive airships’s Engine Quarter, where the working class citizens of Ambia toiled long hours for shitty wages maintaining the City’s intricate propulsion systems so the whole damn thing didn’t plommet down to the ground below at the behest of wealthy politicians and a bloated, corrupt clergy. It was the kind of place where poverty and discontent walked hand in hand, where people felt trapped and hopeless, drinking away their stress and sorrow while they silently prayed that something, anything, would come along to make their lives worth living. In other words, it was the perfect place for me.
I had walked in and just sat down as I usually did, ordered a drink, and listened to the pulsating beats of the music around me while I waited for someone to talk to me. Someone always did. Now at this point you might be asking yourself what a sex demon looks like, since I always got somebody’s attention pretty much wherever I went and I wish I could tell you but to be honest I’m not entirely sure. Some legends will tell you that an Incubus is a shape-shifter, but this isn’t really true. People see in me what they desire, either sexually or emotionally, and everybody is different. Most everyone sees a man when they look at me, though that isn’t always the case. I once had a guy compliment my tits, that had been an interesting night. Aside from that, everything about me varies depending on who’s looking at me. Some people think I’m tall with red hair, others think I’m short and stocky with thick blond hair, there really isn’t any consistency, and I’ve never seen anything when I look in the mirror, just a blank space where a person should be. I guess it just comes with the territory.
On this particular night I was first approached by a plain looking man who spoke to me nervously and quietly, like he was doing something wrong merely by striking up a conversation. I was a bit surprised when he mentioned a wife, since by his slightly effeminate manner of speech and the fact that he kept stealing glances at my crotch throughout our converstion it seemed pretty clear he was a homosexual, but that kind of thing was fairly common in Ambia since the ruling clergy looked at intimate relations between men less than favourably. I didn't really mind. I have no particular preferences with humans when it comes to gender, a man's life force is just as nourishing as a woman's and variety is the slice of life. We talked for about an hour before he worked up the courage to ask if I wanted to go home with him, and I put on my most convincing excited face before I agreed.
We left the club and walked out onto the dimly lit street. The open sky wasn’t visible from the depths of the Engine Quarter, just the massive gears and serpentine metal supports that made up the skeleton of the city above. The only sources of light down here were the neon lights of the bars, clubs, brothels, and the Engine Core at the center of the Quarter.
It’s a reactor of sorts as far as I know, though I’m not a scientist or any other kind of egghead so don’t quote me on that. It stands towering above all the other structures in the Quarter and has a pale blue light at the top of that sort of looks like a miniature sun, though I think it’s much prettier than the real thing. I found myself staring at it absentmindedly as I paced down the crowded street past an assortment of rough looking types.
Drug-dealers, jaded looking hookers and their pimps, criminals looking to disappear into the crowd, and a few sorry sons of bitches that just didn’t have a roof to put over their heads passed by as I walked with this guy who’s name I can't recall and half-heartedly listened to as he spoke to me. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I was just really off my game that night in light of some weird shit that had been going on in my life not long before that, but I’ll cover that later.
Anyway we walked west from the club I think, passed a couple intersections while he talked my ear off about this and that, the usual stuff mostly, his shitty job crunching numbers for a boss he hated up in the Cloud Quarter where all the fat cats of Ambia lived the literal high life among the clouds, his deteriorating relationship with his wife who was getting more and more suspicious about his preferences, and the deep hole of debt he was in financially. I nodded and responded with a reassuring word when it was necessary, but my mind just wasn’t all there. When we finally did get back to his place I was a bit surprised by how nice it was.
Most folks that lived in the Engine Quarter could barely afford a run-down one bedroom apartment but this guy’s house was pretty posh, had a voice activated steel gate and everything. Beyond that was a modest driveway that led to a small yet upscale looking two-story house, the interior of which was painstakingly decorated to look like the inside of a house you’d see in the Cloud Quarter, clean and tidy with a few paintings on the walls that were probably very skilled forgeries of some paintings done by a handful of Ambia’s famous artists.
We barely got through the door before he pushed me up against a wall and started planting awkward, sloppy kisses on my neck and lower jaw while I more or less just went through the motions. I’m not one to kiss and tell so I won’t go into the raunchy details, but what I will say is that he surrendered his soul sooner than most. The whole ordeal took maybe 15 minutes.
His soul tasted bittersweet, almost like blueberries, which didn't come as much of a surprise, the really lonely ones always did.
After I'd eaten my fill, I pushed the freshly made dead man off my chest where he had been laying and made my way out of the house and back onto the street, trying not to be too conspicuous as I did.
I wasn't too worried about being noticed since I was pretty much positive that no one would ever be able to give an accurate description of me, but my Dad always used to tell me you could never be too careful, and before you ask, yes I had a father like just like anybody else and sure he was a black hearted bastard with a taste for dark sorcery and wanton cruelty, but he had smart shit to say every now and again.
I glanced at my watch after I made it back onto the crowded, trash filled street which read 10:45pm. Since the night was still young and I was still a bit hungry I made my way over to The Thirst, a dilapidated old building that I'm told used to be a pretty upscale resort of some kind back when the Engine Quarter was still the kind of place where respectable types came to spend their money.
Nowadays however it was just another seedy nightclub, though it was the closest thing you could get down here to a classy establishment.
I went there fairly often against my better judgement. I had a rule not to pick up too many people from the same place, since that would make it fairly obvious to any body who might be investigating my particular career where I liked to hang out, but there was just something about the place that made me keep coming back.
Maybe it was the ambiance, maybe it was the surprisingly good food and cheap liquor, or maybe it was Mel, that good natured if slightly jaded woman that stood behind the bar who always poured and mixed my drinks just right, and could always make me laugh when I was having a bad night.
That night she had a look that was somewhere between deeply concerned, and disappointed on her face as I made my way up to the bar counter. When she spoke to me, She had the tone of a mother questioning a child that had been up to no good.
" What the Hell have you been doing Remy?"
I did my best to sound both surprised and indignant with my response.
" What the Hell are you talking about Mel? I ain't done anything to anybody and whoever says otherwise is a damn liar!"
She didn’t believe me, but instead of pressing me further, she let out an exasperated sigh and said
“ That girl’s been back in here asking about you, and Justicars have been in here asking about her.”
I didn’t think it was possible to fit so much bad news into a single sentence like that. If you don’t know what a Justicar is you should count yourself lucky, because that means you’ve probably never met one. In theory, they’re supposed to be the black armored keepers of law and order in Ambia but in reality they are better described as mentally unhinged sociopaths with severe inferiority complexes and high end plasma weapons.
I’ve done a pretty good job of avoiding them so far, but hearing that they’ve been poking around my favorite club is more than a little unnerving, and the girl... well, the girl is complicated.
I think her name’s Tina or something close to that. Definitely starts with a T. I met her here at the Thirst a few months ago when I first got to Ambia. I remember that she had this fish out of water look on her face when I spotted her from where I sat at the bar, like she'd never been in a nightclub before.
She wasn't the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, but she was most certainly not ugly either. Her brown hair was about shoulder length, and her soft blue eyes had a strange way of holding your attention. She looked like she took care of herself, far too much so for her to have been from the Engine Quarter, and she carried herself like she came from money.
Perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps out of sheer boredom, I approached her rather than waiting for her to approach me.
We hit it off pretty well and got to talking for what must have been hours. I don't remember the details clearly but she told me her father was some kind of big shot up in the Cloud Quarter and that she hated his fucking guts. According to her he was an oppressive piece of shit that tried to control every aspect of her life from what kind of studies she was allowed to pursue to what kind of clothes she was allowed to wear, and that she had come down to the very bowels of Ambia to escape from him, if only for a little while.
Having had first hand experience with terrible fathers myself, I found that pretty easy to relate to and shared with her some things I had hated about my own father without giving away too much about myself.
She seemed really taken with me by the end of our conversation, which wasn't unusual, but what was unusual was that I almost felt bad about what I knew would happen to her later that night, and that wasn't very much like me at all.
We left the club an hour or two before dawn. I remember her clutching my arm tenderly as we walked through the dark streets toward the shabby hotel room I was renting under a false name at the time. Up to this point, this had been a routine night for me, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary from picking someone up at a club at the beginning of the night, to the sex back at the hotel room with the intent of satisfying what some have called my “unholy appetites” at the end of the night.
What had been unusual, or rather what should not have been possible was that I had been unable to devour her soul during our intimate encounter. She survived the entire process seemingly unscathed, in fact she didn't even seem to notice my attempts to leech her life force. It was almost like she radiated some kind of power that nullified my own.
That had never happened even once before. In my several centuries of existence I'd never met anyone that was immune to my powers like she seemed to be, and it fucking terrified me.
Not really knowing what else to do, I left the room as soon as she fell asleep and haven't seen her since. I had hoped that once she got over her hurt feelings she would return to the Cloud Quarter and get on with her life in a place where I would never have to see her again, but it seemed that she was much more tenacious than I thought she would be.
Over the past few months, I've heard through the grapevine that she'd been going to almost every night club in the Engine Quarter searching for me, and bringing the Justicars down here after her by the sound of it for some reason.
The whole thing was turning into a huge fucking mess. That kind of attention on my feeding grounds made life very hard for me, and I didn't like that one bit.
I sat there thinking about what rotten fucking luck I'd had in this city, and trying to think of a way out of it for a few minutes before Mel's expectant and irritated voice brought me back to reality.
"Well? What do you got to say about all this shit Remy? I can't have the law coming in here every other night looking for one of your little spurned sweethearts! It's killing my business!"
" She's not a "spurned sweetheart" Mel. This shit is just a big misunderstanding."
I said defensively.
"Well then why don't you explain that to her next time you see her."
" I'm not really trying to run into her again"
"Well, it's too late for that."
She replied with a smirk as she gestured to something behind me. My heart sank even before I heard that familiar voice call out to me.
"Remy!"
I turned around on the bar stool to see that same girl with the soft blue eyes from months earlier pushing almost desperately through the crowd to reach me and I cringed a little inside.
I turned back around and tried to make myself as small as possible while Mel giggled at my expense.
"You're a cold-hearted bitch Mel."
I groaned.
"And you're a sleazy shit stain."
She shot back. I didn't really have a comeback for that. Instead I just let out a deep sigh and turned around just in time to come face to face with Tina or whatever her name was, prepared to break her heart a for second time and get on with my night.
She looked absolutely ecstatic to see me. Which made what I was going to say all the more awkward.
"Remy! I've been looking for you forever! We need to talk.."
"Listen.. Tina." I started
"Tanya" she corrected looking slightly perplexed by my mistake.
"Tanya… that was a one time thing. I don't want to hurt your feelings but I'm not really looking to get deeply involved with someone right now.."
"No Remy, you don't understand we need to talk about something serious..."
"Well we're talking right now, say what you need to."
" I'd rather talk about this in private, I think I'm being followed and what I have to say can't reach the wrong ears."
She said in a deathly serious tone
I feel like I should say at this point that it's very hard to creep out an Incubus, but I was starting to get creepy vibes from this whole situation nevertheless and I was mentally calculating my escape route when a bright bolt of white hot plasma ripped through my left shoulder and sent me tumbling to the floor.
A sharp piercing scream rang out over the club music and I saw people scrambling in every direction to get away from the source of the shot.
It had been at least a few decades since the last time somebody had tried to murder me, so I was really out of practice when it came to processing pain, and holy shit did that plasma hurt. The wound had cauterized on it’s own almost instantly, which was the only up side of getting shot with modern weapons these days.
Excruciating pain filled my senses and time seemed to slow around me as adrenaline kicked in and I became hyper aware of everything happening around me. I was in a very literal sense seeing red. My eyes had turned from their typical color into the deep red glow of a demon in the throes of rage, and my face contorted into something terrifying and only vaguely human, at least I think it did. The look of sheer shock and abject terror that spread across Tanya’s face as she stared at me writhing in agony on the ground told me that whatever I looked like to her was not not normal.
I stayed low to the ground and crawled across the floor with the kind of unnatural speed and grace one would see in a spider as I ducked and weaved through the crowd of people trying to escape the club. I spotted the first of my enemies standing over by one of the loudspeakers that pumped music into the club. He was a tall guy in a dark jacket with a hood pulled across his face. In his right hand he brandished a sleek looking black handgun with a brightly glowing energy cell where the magazine should have been.
I’d seen guns like that down here before. It was the kind of compact plasma weapon that was incredibly popular with the drug dealers and professional killers of the Engine Quarter. Since it seemed pretty clear that he wasn’t here to sell me drugs it was pretty obvious to me which one of those groups he belonged to.
The DJ who had been playing the clubs music had run out the front door as soon as the first shot had been fired leaving the music machines unattended, and as I got close enough to pounce on my attacker, the next song that had been queued up to play rang out over the loudspeakers, and the fast paced techno beats and sad, heartbroken lyrics of a remixed version of Deadmau 5’s Raise your Weapon acted as the soundtrack to our battle.
“ Ripping my heart was so easy, so easy”
A soft, feminene voice sang as I lunged up from the floor at the hooded killer in a frenzy, my hands transforming from typical human hands into long serrated black claws. He saw me at the last second and tried to fire off another shot of plasma. But I knocked the gun out of his hand and sent it clattering to the floor before I grabbed his left shoulder, sinking my claws into his flesh as I did, and pushed the claws of my right hand into the soft skin under his chin and up into his skull. He twitched and thrashed around in my grip as he died, and I was slightly disgusted by the wet, slick feeling of the blood and brains on my claws as I retracted them.
As the dead man fell to the floor I made a mental note to wash my hands before I left the club just in time to spot another hooded man who could have been a carbon copy of the first one, right down to the sleek black pistol standing by the entrance let out a shriek of surprise before firing a volley of bright plasma bolts at me and giving me no choice but to jump behind an overturned table nearby for cover.
“ Launch your assault now, take it easy”
Thinking quickly I ripped off a leg of the table and threw it at the second assailant hoping to impale him with it.
I wasn't that lucky, though it did manage to hit him square in the face. He yelped in pain and I could hear the sound of his nose breaking as he tumbled backwards. I took the opportunity to leap over the table as fast as I was able, which was in fact pretty damn fast, I doubt anybody watching the fight would have been able to follow my movements with their naked eyes but again I digress.
I was on the man before he had a chance to react and I used my claws to stick him like a pin cushion as many times as could before something hard and blunt struck my temple and filled my vision with white spots.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon."
Depending on how you looked at it, those particular lyrics of the song were either very well timed, or timed very poorly because when my vision cleared up enough for me to see who hit me I was greeted by the sight of yet another hooded hit man, though this one only vaguely resembled the other two.
He was at least two or three feet taller than the others and his muscles were fucking massive. They bulged through his jacket., it was not at all an exaggeration to say that he looked like a leather wrapped rhino on steroids.
In his hands he held what looked like a length of metal pipe, and I didn't really have a lot of time to reflect on how unprofessional it was for a professional killer to be using a fucking metal pipe before he raised it back over his head and swung at me again.
"One word and it's over."
I rolled out the way of the incoming blow and sliced out a chunk of the hooded behemoth's ankle as I rolled behind him.
I think I managed to cut his Achilles tendon because he fell over onto the floor gripping his ankle as he groaned in pain. I got a bit over confident after that, and tried to leap on top of the man and rip him to shreds like I had my previous attacker.
" Ripping through like a missile”
He flipped onto his back and caught me with both hands just before the impact and rolled the both of us over again so I was pinned under him while he started pummeling me with his huge fists. As blow after blow hit my face and I felt some of my teeth dislodge I decided that without a doubt this was the worst night I’d had in years, maybe even centuries. I tried to shield my face with my claws, but he hit way too hard and too fast than somebody his size should have been able to and I couldn’t do much about it. I started to see stars and black spots everywhere as the conscious world seemed to slip away from me.
"Ripping through my heart"
A deafening bang rang out from somewhere above me and the punches stopped almost as quickly as they had began. Warm blood and viscera spilled all over my face and I choked back the urge to vomit as I looked up to see half of my attackers head completely blown off.
"Raise your weapon, Raise your weapon, and it's over."
Spitting some broken teeth out of my mouth, I used all the strength I had left to push the giant corpse off me as the music died down and the club fell silent.
I wondered what the fuck had just happened for maybe a moment before I looked over in the direction the sound had come from to see Mel standing nearby with an annoyed look on her face and a fucking smoking sawed-off shotgun of all things in her hands. I didn't think they still made those anymore since this was my first time seeing one in like forty years.
I let out a relieved sigh and made another mental note to give Mel a tip next time I bought a drink here.
" Mel, have I ever told you you're an angel?" I exclaimed with a grin.
"Take your little girlfriend and get the fuck out of my club before the law gets here."
She replied dismissively before she walked back behind the bar swearing under her breath as she went.
I had completely forgotten about Tanya. I looked around the now deserted night club as the dim red and purple rave lights flashed on and off, making it really difficult to see much of anything clearly.
I caught movement from under a table out of the corner of my eye and walked over to investigate. Surely enough, crouched and hiding beneath the table was Tanya. She nearly jumped out of her skin when I leaned down to talk to her.
" You can come out now, the bad guys are all very dead."
She came out from under the table slowly and cautiously with her eyes closed. She didn't keep them closed though, and when she did open them and saw the mutilated thugs on the floor she vomited all over the floor almost immedaitely.
"First time seeing dead people?"
I asked her in a tone that may have been a bit too casual given the circumstances.
She gave me a disgusted look before she vomited again and took a few minutes to catch her breath before she finally spoke.
"What the fuck… who...what are you?"
She asked between labored breaths.
"I'm kinda complicated babe. I don't have the time to give details but believe me when I say I'm a very very bad man and you don't want to get mixed up with me. I need to get out of here before the Justicars show up, so this'll probably be the last time we see each other, have a nice life, better luck with your next man."
I said flippantly as I turned to leave without another thought. I figured that seeing the guy you've been chasing sprout claws and turn a few guys into mince meat would be enough to scare away any woman and I wouldn't have to say anymore. Little did I know she more to say to me, and what she had to say would turn my world upside down.
"Remy wait!"
She yelled as she ran after me and I turned back to reply to her with clear agitation.
"Look babe, do I have to spell this out for you? I'm a demon, like a literal demon straight from the pits of Hell, not exactly the type you can bring home to momma and papa, so why don't you do us both a favor and find somebody else to sleep with?"
Bewilderment and disgust spread across her face before it was quickly replaced by indignant anger and she started yelling at me
" You sleazy, egotistical piece of shit! You think I've been looking all over this shit hole town for you because I want to sleep with you again?"
Now I was genuinely confused. I couldn't fathom what else she could have wanted.
"Well… yeah" I said kind of sheepishly
She scoffed at my response
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d never let you touch me again after what you did.”
“ Alright, then what the fuck do you want?” I shot back.
“ I needed to tell you something.”
“What? What could you possibly need to tell me that you’d go through all this trouble…”
“ I’m pregnant.” she said.
Life was never the same after that.
submitted by McSinister5674 to stayawake [link] [comments]


2020.09.05 12:00 girl_from_the_crypt Caught naked by mother in law

On a dry plain of short grass, flanked by two mountain ranges, a single road runs through a small town. That town's name is Raw.
My hometown is a solitary little thing, the only other town around being Pure, a similarly tiny and desolate place. The nearest large city around is a two hour-drive away.
There's no law enforcement in Raw. This is a bit odd since we do have a mayor, but the only police station even remotely close to us is in the city I mentioned earlier and the last time somebody called them when something went wrong, nobody came. There is that one guy who sometimes rides through town on a horse dressed in Old West attire who we call "The Sheriff" but he doesn't really do anything. This is only to avoid confusion. Thankfully we at least have a doctor in town, a tiny little hospital if you will, and if something happens to one of the residents, they've never failed to take care of it. We did have to drive some residents out to the city in the past though.
Still, for a town without anybody watching out for people breaking the law, I think we're doing pretty well for us though. Sure, there are conflicts and bad shit happens, but nobody's out here killing each other or anything like that.
I haven't been here all my life. I don't exactly recall how I came to Raw or where I'm actually from. In fact, I have no memory of my life before the age of seventeen. I knew the basics; my name, some preferences and how old I was, but that's about it. I don't even know where these memories might have come from. I didn't even have an idea about where the single deep scar on each of my wrists stems from.
Therefore, the very first thing I clearly remember is the feeling of dry, hard ground underneath me. My whole body was burning, a searing, biting pain pulling on my skin and even inside of me.
I opened my eyes and screamed.
I was still screaming when the door to the large house I found myself lying in front of was thrown open and two men came running out onto the porch. Upon spotting me, they rushed towards me, picked me up by the arms and dragged me inside. The door slammed shut behind us. Once again, my eyes fluttered shut.
When I came to again, I was lying in a low, small bed. Warm rays of light were falling in through a tiny window across from me. The room I was in wasn't spacious by any means. The walls were of the same dark wood as the floorboards and the only other piece of furniture inside of it was an old-fashioned pink and white vanity leaning against the wall beside the door. It was pretty though, like something you'd find inside a dollhouse. At last, I noticed the woman sitting by my bedside.
She was middle-aged, bespectacled and wore an airy flower-print dress. Her light brown hair was of the same color as her eyes and when she smiled at me, I couldn't help but immediately feel at ease. There was something so serene and motherly to her.
"There, you're finally awake," she said softly. "How are you?"
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I thought for a few seconds, trying to figure out if I was still hurting anywhere. "I'm fine," I eventually replied. "Where am I? Who are you?" I added.
"You're in Raw. That's what everyone calls this place at least. You're not the first one to come here this way."
"What way?"
"Lying outside, screaming in pain… let me guess, you don't remember anything about yourself except maybe your name and age?"
I nodded wordlessly.
"Yeah. Well, don't worry. We'll take good care of you. We needed another farmhand anyways. You can work and live here, just like Vasily. He's… another person who came here this way." She leaned in. "It's a set rule. If someone wakes up in front of your house screaming, you need to take them in."
I swallowed. My mind was racing and yet I felt light-headed.
The lady smiled at me again. "I'm sorry. This is a lot to take in, I'm sure. I'm Siobhan, by the way. What's your name?"
I told her everything I knew and she listened intently. She then gave me some practical clothing and led me down into the living room where she went on to introduce me to all of her family.
There was Donovan, her husband and basically the dad for the whole family. And then there were their kids. At the time, this confused me quite a bit, but it turns out most families in Raw don't consist of blood relatives. The vast majority join their little tribes by waking up in front of their house and being taken in, just like me.
I love Siobhan and Donovan for not making a big deal out of it. They never told us which of the kids, if any, were their biological children. Sure, with a few it was very easy to tell. Carol, the second-youngest member of the family who was just a toddler when they took her in, is Black, and Vasily who is about my age looks like he could be greek or something, so both of them have little resemblance with pale and light-haired Siobhan and her husband.
My siblings therefore were Vasily, at the time seven year-old Carol, six year-old Remmy, eleven year-old Lisette and thirteen year-old Percy. They welcomed me with open arms. Seeing as Vasily and I were the oldest of the bunch, it was our job to watch out for and entertain our little brothers and sisters. The kids are awesome, so it's never been a bother. There were also Apollo, Daphne and Zeus, our three guard dogs, all of them german shepherd mixes. Since my arrival, several years have passed and Apollo and Zeus have long since died and our newer dogs Hades and Eden have taken their place, but back in the day, it was those three.
Step by step, the Bennetts introduced me to Raw, starting with their house and the orchard. Our home is located on the very outskirts of town, right next to where the mountains rise. The only thing adorning the rather flat ground in front of the hills and separating us from the wilderness is the large, plentiful orchard we have been taking care of for generations now. Rows upon rows of large apple trees standing right next to one other, so close it almost looks like they're trying to push each other over. They are both a source of food and shade as well as a barrier. They're almost like a wall that shields us from the ridge… and the things that hide within it.
"They come by nightfall. Sometimes, they stay away for months on end. We've had entire years of calm," Donovan explained to me. "But it'd be foolish to believe we're safe. We're one of the two families that live right beside the mountains, so it's our duty towards the town to stay vigilant."
"If you notice any signs of them approaching, you need to run down to the town hall immediately. From there, you can alert everyone else," Siobhan added.
I nodded obediently. I knew where the town hall was so the task itself wasn't too difficult. What I didn't understand was what exactly they were talking about. I wanted to ask, but instead, I opted to inquire about the signs Siobhan had mentioned. What she told me next would go on to become the main commandment I have lived by since.
If the dogs start howling and barking at the mountains when nobody else is in sight, run and warn the other residents.
Once in a while, someone new will wake up in Raw. We can always hear their screams all throughout the entire town. I have no idea where they come from, and of course to an extent where I come from, but there is a pattern to these sudden appearances. For one, they all happen at night. These new residents aren't always children or teens, but the vast majority of them are pretty young.
We were reminded of how strange the workings of this town are a few years ago. It was late at night and the kids had been supposed to be in bed already, but Carol used to have trouble sleeping sometimes and weirdly enough, the only thing that calmed her down was swinging in our yard. It was alright with us as long as there was someone watching out for her while she was at it. Therefore it was not surprising when she came knocking on my door around midnight, quietly whispering my name to wake me up. She always did that and it was beyond adorable.
I was still up, texting with a friend of mine, so all I had to do was put on some shoes and follow her into the garden. The orchard beyond the fence was lying peacefully in the nightly darkness with nothing but a slight breeze shaking the leaves. Carol effortlessly slid onto the swing. It's made of wood and rope and is just a little too high for a small child to climb onto without help. That's because Donovan crafted it and put it up and he's a bit clumsy when it comes to handiwork. Children however grow with time and no one has to help Carol or Remmy for that matter up there anymore.
I pushed her a little to give her an easy start and then sat down to wait for her. I was a bit tired and thinking about how much my little siblings had changed had me feeling some kind of nostalgia, so I was just slowly and serenely drifting off.
All of a sudden, a scream pierced the night air and Carol let out a startled squeak. I was on my feet in a heartbeat and rushed towards her to help her off the swing. Another scream followed, this one longer and even higher in pitch, as if the person yelling had caught their breath again after running out of air. I looked up at our house to see if any of the lights had been switched on, but the rooms behind the windows remained dark. That wasn't too much of a surprise seeing as we were all used to sudden cries of pain in the middle of the night. Still, at that moment the howls were oddly intriguing.
I don't know what came over me. Maybe I just wanted to see the new resident and find out which family would have another member soon. Anyways, I looked down at Carol with this plotting expression you get when thinking of doing something potentially stupid, and asked her, "Do you want to go check it out?"
She nodded eagerly so we snuck past the dogs who were sleeping in their little shed and I unlocked the gate of the fence. She and I hurriedly slid outside and I took one last glance at our house. All was quiet.
Holding her tiny hand in mine, I led my little sister down the main street. From time to time, we'd stop and listen for more screams, and occasionally she'd pull me into another direction when she thought she'd heard something. We were nervous; excited. The screams had sounded like those of a woman, not a child but a fairly young person still. The odd thing was that even as time progressed, we could hear them loud and clear, as if nobody had come out to help her yet.
As we neared the Davises house, the volume of the cries reached its peak. However, other voices had joined them and were almost drowned out by them completely. They sounded panicked, frightened and almost as distressed as the screaming itself. After a few more seconds, the source moved into sight.
The bright beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing Mr and Mrs Davis. They were kneeling on the ground, bent over a woman dressed in nothing but baggy sweatpants and a tank top. Mrs Davis was trying to get her to stand up while Mr Davis was shining his torch at them. Either of them were talking to the girl in firm but gentle voices, obviously trying to calm her down, but she kept wailing and thrashing around. Her naked feet were kicking wildly and she was dragging her nails over the ground over and over again. When she rolled onto her back, I could see that foam had begun to form in the corners of her mouth.
I was frozen in place, staring at the scene unfolding before our eyes. I wanted to turn around and leave, get Carol away from there at least, but somehow, I just couldn't. I absentmindedly reached down to cover the little girl's eyes before sinking to my knees and pressing her up against me entirely. My eyes remained glued on the woman though.
"What's happening?" I heard Carol whisper into my shirt. I shushed her, told her everything was okay.
The woman continued to kick and scream, her chest rising and falling way too rapidly. Her breaths came less steadily and she began to gasp for air in between cries only to then keep howling and hunching up like a dying animal. The Davises were growing increasingly worried; Mr Davis fumbled for his phone, presumably to call the doctor. Something told me there was nothing anyone could do to help her anymore though. I was right.
She arched her back one last time and let out a final, weakened and defeated scream as her battered breath ran dry and her head rolled to the side. Her eyes were wide open and bloodshot. Mrs Davis cried out and ran both hands through her tousled hair. One by one, the lights in the neighboring houses came on and residents began to flood out their doors and onto the street. They had gotten so used to people appearing out of nowhere and screaming that they hadn't even thought to check until now that something was obviously wrong.
When enough of a crowd had formed to block the woman's corpse from our view, I finally dared to turn Carol around and quickly started walking her home. I had been meaning to spare her that sight at all costs and thankfully, I had succeeded. She was a bit shaken but didn't really understand what we had just almost witnessed.
When we returned home, I tucked Carol in, trying my best to pretend nothing was wrong. The following morning, I told Siobhan and Donovan everything. They were angry at me, livid even, but that was to be expected. Thankfully, Carol really seemed unfazed. She had slept well and when she came downstairs for breakfast, she was as happy and bubbly as ever. Later that day, Siobhan sat me down to talk.
"I'm sorry I didn't ask sooner, but are you okay?" she began. I nodded. For some reason, I wasn't too rattled by the events of the previous night. At least not anymore. "I'm glad," she replied. "I talked to Mrs Davis on the phone. What you saw yesterday has happened before even though it's not often that it goes wrong like that. I was born into this town. My mother and father woke up here and so did Donovan. I know from what I've heard and seen that it's painful though. But no one knows why and it's not like the new residents are left with any marks that would give away why they were in pain."
"Anyone think of looking into it before?"
"Peps, this town hasn't just been here since yesterday. It's how it works and we've seen in the past that questioning it is useless. When I was young, I was really curious about it too so I went around asking folks who woke up about their stories, but it never got me anywhere. You just have to accept it. It is what it is."
Her answer left me unsatisfied. I'm not sure for how long Raw has existed, but Siobhan had a point. If there was something bigger behind all this, someone else would have probably already found out. Sometimes, things are simply what they seem.
It is what it is, I told myself when I thought of the woman's body growing cold as more and more people came out from their houses and gathered around to watch.
x
Part 2: The two largest families in town hate each other
submitted by girl_from_the_crypt to CrypticPark [link] [comments]


2020.09.04 16:57 welcometosouthapp Welcome to South App #6: "Greek Invasion"

Friday, September 4th, 2020
I can’t believe Winston’s making me do this on my birthday!
It was sunrise on Gigi’s 19th birthday. She dragged a gas-powered chainsaw across the North Campus quad. An hour earlier, Winston had woken Gigi up with a phone call. “Fetch my chainsaw from under the bed and meet me at the library.Click. Not even a “Happy birthday.”
So, she’d rolled out of bed in a white tank top and baby-blue yoga pants. Call it morbid curiosity. Only Winston could come up with such demands, after all.
Gigi was streaked in oil and sweat. She hobbled to the library entrance and let the hunk of metal fall to the ground. North Campus was a vast expanse of willow trees and solitude at sunrise. But something was very…off.
Suddenly, Winston popped out of the bushes and pointed a pistol at Gigi’s forehead. “You’re alone on campus on a day like today,” he rattled off. “Out of the blue, some hooligan hops out of the bushes and tells you to wring your pockets. But you’re wearing a sundress, so you don’t have any pockets. So instead, he-”
“YEET!” Gigi screamed, kicking Winston’s crotch. He crumbled to the ground, hitting a falsetto.
“Oh...shit! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Shiiiet, it’s all right,” Winston moaned, rolling over on his back. Gigi’s frowning, pale face eclipsed the rising sun. “Happy birthday. It’s a Smith and Wesson Bodyguard. Too small for me. Be mindful of the trigger-pull and recoil. But I reckon it’s compact enough for your frou-frou jeans.”
“Oh! I...thank you! But why?” The warm gun fit in her small hand like a glove.
Winston stood up. “Hell, you’ve had my back since I got here. I reckon I oughta return the favor. I ain’t the brightest slice of pie in the knife drawer. But as long as you’re the brains, I may as well make due and be the brawn.”
I stole your other gun and our friends stole your fake IDs! is what Gigi wanted to say. “You...make me feel really safe, Winston!” is what she actually said, slipping the gun in her purse.
Winston lifted the chainsaw. “Welp, it’s time to cut some ties. We’ve got a rat in the frat. Some Alpha Beta Kappa brother pretendin’ to be one of us. See that tree down yonder? That’s their secret meet-up spot. And it’s gotta come down.”
ABK, or “All Big Kocks", started as a frat that met in an off-campus apartment. Then, Clyde (son of Dean Dale Crenshaw) took over. Overnight, the funding skyrocketed. This Honors Music Fraternity was BDE’s greatest rival. Live shows every Friday night, a 3.8 GPA entrance criteria, and co-ed. “Why go to any other frat parties?” Clyde would always argue. “When the women are already here?
“So, about this rat,” Gigi mused, following Winston to the tree. “You asked him nicely to leave?”
“Well, let’s just say he’s branded for life. Name was Taggart, and we actually rushed together. Poor bastard.”
The lumberjack revved the chainsaw. His large pecs and biceps bulged under his shirt as he put that smoking-hot metal to work. He’d easily replaced 20 pounds of fat with muscle. And as that hundreds-year-old tree crashed to the ground, Gigi reminded herself to stay on his good side.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Winston yelled, taking off. “They’ll arrest you too! Hell, you’re the one with the filed-off serial number.”
“W-what?!” Gigi’s voice cracked as she sprinted past him.
“Fuckin’ with ya, Gigi.”
Gigi rode shotgun in Winston’s truck. She kicked off her flats and began massaging her sore feet.
“Um...I definitely stink,” Gigi laughed nervously, slipping her shoe back on. That was Winston’s cue to roll the window back up. She reached into her purse and pulled out the huge charcoal bath bomb that she stole from Sarah. “Dear Chadwick Hughes’ spirit: all I want for my birthday is a bath!”
“Hmm.” Winston drove past Firewater Hall toward Greek Row. “You’re a wanted woman,” he reminded her. “If we go to the house, you’re gonna have to sneak in. If Ryan finds ya, he’ll put your head on a pike.”
Ah, Gigi thought. Because we snuck in, punched him out, and blew up his father’s ashes. Seems...fair.
They pulled up to the BDE house and saw Ryan’s white BMW in the driveway. Winston shut off his Roush engine and instinctively pulled Gigi’s head into his lap, hiding her from plain view.
“Here’s the plan, birthday gal. I’ll go upstairs and grab a shower in the guest bathroom. I’ll save ya some hot water. Wait here, and I’ll text ya when everything’s ready.”
Winston slipped inside. Gigi lay across the passenger and driver’s seat. She thought about bailing and driving to Denny’s for free birthday pancakes. But Winston had the keys. And as her sweating, greased-up body melted in that god-awful hot truck, she decided that she really wanted that bath.
Gigi drifted off to sleep. In her dreams, she sat at a kitchen table in a massive Beverly Hills mansion. In front of Winston were a birthday cake and a huge gift bag. “Happy birthday, Winston!” she exclaimed. Winston reached into the bag and pulled out his lost Colt Single Action Army. “Ta-da! It’s your gun!” Then, he pulled out his lost BDE binder. “Ta-da! It’s your fake IDs!” Finally, he reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of yellow and white striped panties with a lacy bow. “Ta-da! It’s my virginity!
Gigi bolted awake to her phone vibrating. A text from Winston. Ready. Use the ladder. She sat up from her puddle of sweat and made her way around the side of the house.
At the top of the raggedy fire escape ladder, Gigi reached the second-story open window. Tea candles lined the shelf of an elegant clawfoot bathtub, filled to the brim with steaming water. Beside the tub was a shower caddy containing a bottle of merlot, a bag of chocolate-covered almonds, several high-end soaps and face masks, and a note.
To my partner in crime: I reckon we managed to evade the law quite a few times since we moved here. Truth is, ain’t no bathtubs in jail. Now, enjoy all this bougie shit that I found in Claire’s room. Happy birthday - Winston.
“He writes just like he speaks,” Gigi whispered, holding the letter to her chest.
Gigi stripped down to her underwear and neatly folded her clothes in a pile. On the floor was Winston’s t-shirt and blue jeans from earlier. I’m sure he’ll wear that again! She slipped off her yellow panties. After some thought, or no thought at all, she stuffed them into the back pocket of his jeans.
Gigi lowered herself into her first college bath. Even the water felt softer and silkier than in the dorm, whose water flowed from lead-flavored pipes. She picked her brain for every get-rich-quick scheme in the book, aspiring to live in such comfort full-time.
I could blackmail Sarah and Tai about that binder, she thought, submerging her head under water. Maybe I can convince them to give me a cut of their profits! So that a poor student like me can buy clothes that aren’t secondhand! But that would mean keeping the fake IDs a secret from Winston and betraying his trust...
Gigi shot up from the water, gasping for breath. She rubbed her eyes and slicked back her jet-black hair. Then, she unwrapped the bath bomb. It fizzled as a milky grey mist clouded her entire bath.
Winston, would you forgive me? Gigi lifted her hand out of the water and read her nearly-faded tattoo. And if I take a cut of their earnings, I’ll buy the cutest outfits to wear for you. I’m-
She lowered her tattooed hand into the cloudy water, where it disappeared between her legs.
“I’m ready for you, Winston.”
***
“Look at this swole son of a bitch!” greeted Brother Twinston, as Winston entered the cozy living room after his shower. They and eight other pledges dressed in white button-downs and tan slacks, adorned with a BDE pin on the collar.
Winston grabbed Twinston in a playful headlock. “I reckon ain’t nobody gonna be able to tell us apart now.”
“I reckon you’re right, stunt double!” Twinston agreed. This young man was a spitting image of Winston in looks and spirit. They had met at a frat party after taking whiskey shots and reaching for the pickle jar at the same time. Bromance at first sight.
“Enough faggotry,” Ryan commanded, walking up the podium by the fireplace. As the de-facto alpha of the room, his pomade-style hair stood taller than everyone else’s. Seven AM on Friday was BDE’s weekly meeting, and brothers were expressly forbidden from taking Friday classes. Because as soon as this was over, the weekend pre-gaming would commence.
“Now, Winston!” Ryan began. “Looks like your sausage fingers got some dirt under your nails. I trust the deed was done?”
“As motherfuckin’ Shakespeare said: the tree fell, nobody was around, and it still made a fuckin’ sound. I reckon ABK’s hideout is being hauled off by a truck as we speak.”
“You’ve never had a way with words,” Ryan pointed out. “But I gotta admit: you get shit done. Now, if another rat wants to show their face, I got no problem burning down their momma’s house. Next on the list. We gotta talk about two of our…ex-members. Claire and Connor. She packed up the rest of her shit and slipped out of here last night. I’ll be posting an application for Social Chair on our Facebook page.”
Last week, after Winston had caught Claire cheating on him with Frank, she had officially stepped down from BDE.
“Hell, let’s break tradition and make it a man, for Christ’s sake!” Twinston piped up. Despite only being a sophomore, he had clout among the senior brothers.
“I’ll consider it,” Ryan said, shrugging. “You know women: always afraid of commitment. Bitch didn’t even give a reason for leaving. Although I’m not gonna lie: I’m gonna miss those tits during strip poker.”
Two muscular black brothers gave each other a crisp high-five.
“Now, onto Connor. Not only did this beta bitch get a DUI, but he had our motherfucking coke on him.” Ryan tossed a bag of red-and-white cocaine on the coffee table. “Now what the fuck did we say about taking coke out of the house?”
“Don’t go to the buyers - let the buyers come to you,” the brothers responded in unison.
“Final topic of conversation,” Ryan announced, holding up a saloon-style wanted poster. “I’d like to announce that I've delivered swift, painful justice to the bastards who stole my father’s ashes.” On that poster were security camera photos of Frank, Tweed, and Chad - their faces X’d out. Next to their images were lo-res pics of Gigi and Sarah. “I’m increasing the bounty to 2500 bucks for whoever brings me the other two cunts.”
This bounty was news to Winston. Nobody knew he was even related to Sarah, or that Gigi was currently bathing upstairs. While the brothers salivated over the reward money, Ryan swiped a fire poker cast with BDE at the tip. “We took those three bastards out to the quad and branded them for life! Sent their bitch-asses packing. But as for these two dumb sluts...I think they were the masterminds of the whole goddamn plan. I say we tie ‘em down and apply directly to the forehead!”
“Yeah, man, fuck these ho’s,” Winston played along. “They did your daddy wrong. But real talk, I say we track ‘em down and exile them from the fuckin’ campus for life. Ain’t no use in getting thrown in jail for assault. Hell, that’s where those bitches belong.”
“Winston, I’m disappointed in you, chief,” Ryan said condescendingly, slamming the poker on the fireplace with a loud clank. He walked over to Winston and stood eye-to-eye with him. Dead silence. Finally, Ryan cracked a douchey grin.
“All right, all right,” Ryan chuckled. “I’ll go easy on ‘em...that is, if they drop to their knees and suck every last drop from us until they fucking drown!”
The brothers roared like animals, chanting Ryan’s name as he ripped open the bag of red-and-white cocaine. Winston forced a painful smile as the nausea set in. Ryan leaned over the coffee table and proceeded to snort his usual Friday-morning line.
“WHO’S GOT MOTHERFUCKING BIG DICKS?” Ryan screamed psychotically.
“WE DO!” the brothers yelled, banging their chests.
“AND ON MY DEAD DAD’S GRAVE! IF ANYBODY CROSSES BETA DELTA EPSILON, WE’LL DISEMBOWEL THEM AND SHIT DOWN THEIR THROATS!”
Ryan flipped over the glass coffee table, shattering it into pieces.
***
The massive South Campus quad was speckled with students playing ultimate frisbee, strumming guitars, and pretending to study. It was Tai’s happy place. Ever since Jacky turned him loose, he and Sarah had been practicing Krav Maga during sunset. A zen-like hobby that helped him clear his mind and shrink his erection.
Tai landed a shaky roundhouse kick as he spotted a young lady in the corner of his eye.
“I’ve got your rematch, Sarah,” Tai jeered, landing a sloppy jump-spinning crescent kick. But as he stuck the landing, he witnessed Gigi in a traditional kimono and a chopstick bun.
“I accept your challenge in Sarah’s stead!” Gigi cheered, bowing deeply.
“Wait...huh? Where’s Sarah?”
“Ah, in celebration of my 6,939th day on Planet Earth, she elected to maintain a record of meeting notes in my dreadful Comparative Literature enrichment!”
A blank stare from Tai as he slowly shifted into a guarding stance.
“I mean...it’s my fucking birthday, so she went to class for me!” She kicked off her flats and crouched into a grappling stance. “Now, will you hand over a third of your fake ID profits? Or will I have to spill the Bush’s Bourbon and Brown Sugar baked beans to Winston?”
“W-what?! Who told you?”
“Hmmm...twas but a whisper in the wind - a grape from the vine!” Gigi inched toward Tai, who cautiously backed up.
“Okay, look...don’t, um, don’t do anything drastic! We’re gonna pay it back to him, I promise. If you think about it, we’re just doing the work for him. It’s just that...well, it’s been a tough week so we can’t really afford to give you that kind of money!”
“As you wish. I’ll have to beat it out of you instead!”
Tai threw a lunging side kick. But the swift Gigi virtually teleported behind him. She jammed her thumbs into the tender spot below his ears.
“Fool, a petite fighter such as myself must play defensively,” Gigi bragged, regrouping. “I’ve been watching you. Looks like those kicks have thrown you off balance, Mister Flat Foot!”
“You can kiss that ID money goodbye,” Tai scoffed, rubbing his pressure points.
“That’s perfectly fine, grasshopper! I don’t intend to ask for it.”
Tai side-stepped and tried for a sweep kick. Gigi raised her leg over her head like a Chinese gymnast. He fell forward from his own momentum, but Gigi pressed her foot against his face to stop the fall. She wiggled her toes, then gave him a firm roundhouse to the side of the head. Tai fell back onto the grass. As he lost his breath, she wrapped her arms and legs around him from behind. A rear-naked chokehold that Sarah would've been damn proud of.
“Jaleo gada, jaleo gada, jaleo gada,” Gigi cooed in Korean, squeezing his windpipe. And “go to sleep” he did.
Ten minutes later, Tai sat up with a start, drenched in sweat. A ring of students surrounded him.
“Break it up, dudes and dudettes!” Sarah exclaimed, forcing her way through the crowd. The students dispersed as she helped the oblivious Tai to his feet.
“Oh...fuck,” Tai groaned. He fumbled for his minimalist metal wallet. Six-hundred dollars in cash was gone.
“You got robbed, my guy?” Sarah asked, kigh as a hite.
“That’s not even the half of it. This is bad. I have a lot to explain to you.”
Tai recapped his encounter with Gigi, while he and Sarah sipped lattes on the library’s top floor.
“Holy mother of balls,” Sarah whispered after Tai explained Gigi’s blackmailing.
“Look, maybe we come clean. Do you think you can talk to Winston?”
“Not a chance in Woodstock,” Sarah replied, frantically shaking her dreadlocks. “My brother’s all about loyalty first. He’d cut my hair while I was asleep and he’d circumcise you while you were awake.”
Tai instinctively covered his crotch as they stopped at a bulletin board. “So...we’re Gigi’s bitches," said Tai. "If we owe her a cut every time we make a sale, we’ve gotta find a better market.” On cue, he swiped a flyer from the bulletin board. TONIGHT: Alpha Beta Kappa proudly presents the Housewarming Masquerade. $10 cover. All students welcome.
***
The good ole’ southern twins stood on the wrap-around porch, whiskey in hand.
“Look, brother,” Twinston started, patting Winston’s back. “I’ve known Ryan for a year. I know he can get a little...impulsive with his words. But that don’t mean he’s impulsive with his actions. You’re worried about them two girls, aren’t ya?”
Winston was one text message away from telling Gigi and Sarah to flee campus. During last month’s frat party, he had never thought to question why Frank and Gigi had shown up in the first place. It never occurred to him that they were there to blow Ryan’s father’s legacy to smithereens.
Ryan stumbled out in a bright red bathrobe that matched his stuffy, red nose. “Shit, I almost forgot to ask ya, Winston,” he slurred. “I meant to collect your fake ID money for this week.”
Winston was so close to coming clean. Some jack-off stole the binder! he wanted to say. But the punishment for having lost it would be swift and fierce. So, he reached into his wallet and pulled out 600 bucks, straight from his own student loan account.
“Geez, tough week again, huh?” Ryan jeered, snatching the cash. “Where have you been trying to sell them?”
“Oh, you know...the regular beats,” Winston lied. “I reckon I ain’t gonna hit the library on weekdays no more.”
“The library?” Twinston repeated, bewildered. “Shit, what’s it like in there? Ain’t never been.”
“Not your brightest moment, I’m not gonna lie,” Ryan chuckled at Winston. “But, at least you learned your lesson for next week.” Winston nodded, taking it on the chin. If he had to make another withdraw, there wouldn’t be a “next week.” Winston had to find that ID thief.
“Whoa, what the hell?” Twinston pointed at a fleet of U-Haul vans, led by a 2021 silver BMW. They watched as the vehicles pulled into the driveway of the empty frat house next door.
“Holy fucking shit,” Ryan gasped. “It’s motherfucking Alpha Beta Kappa.”
The bald driver opened the butterfly doors. Thick marijuana smoke trickled out of the car. The passenger doors sprang up, and out hopped a freckle-faced redhead with a pornstar body. She brought a wheelchair over to the driver’s side and helped the bald guy into the seat. Then, she marveled at the huge mansion and jumped up and down in her stilettos, her huge breasts bouncing in her tight corset. She rushed into the new house, pausing to give Winston a quick glance before she entered.
Another redhead, huh? Winston thought. My favorite flavor.
The bald guy rolled over to the BDE house in his wheelchair, a present in his lap. His large biceps and tattoos were on full display in his worn Guns N’ Roses sleeveless tee. His jeans were bleached and destroyed and his black Converse were spotless.
“What’s up, neighbors?” the paraplegic spoke in a loud, baritone voice. He handed the present to Ryan. “I’m Clyde, President of Alpha Beta Kappa. Looks like we’re gonna be seeing a whole lot of each other.”
“Uh...yeah, my name’s Ryan.” He extended a hand while using the other to dab his bloody nose. “So...I thought Tri-Delt leased the house next door.”
“I assume you know sororities almost as well as I do. Truth is: women are too damn afraid of commitment. You gonna open that present or what?”
Ryan slipped off the bow and tore the wrapping paper. It was a penis pump.
“Now, let me lay down some ground rules for you and your twins,” Clyde continued, straightening his posture in the chair. “There’s only room for one big dick on Greek Row. Now you may think you have a big dick. But there’s a gang of nine-inch fresh-cut cocks in town.”
Clyde whistled with his fingers. The U-Haul truck doors rolled up. And out came a cavalry of ABK brothers, hauling furniture toward the house as they chanted “All Big Kocks!” Like pallbearers, they each grabbed a corner of expensive sofas, desks, and beds. Posing on top of each piece of furniture was a topless ABK sister. The brothers escorted them like royalty into the soon-to-be furnished mansion.
Clyde unfolded a flyer from his back pocket and handed it to Ryan. “Bring your asses tonight. There are plenty more tits where those came from.” It was an invitation to the ABK Housewarming Masquerade. Clyde swiveled around and rolled back on over to his new house. “By the way!” Clyde called out. “I don’t condone Taggart for spying on y’all like he did! I don’t care who you work for: a rat is a rat!”
“That’s bullshit,” Ryan whispered. He knew good and well that Taggart’s spying was planned and coordinated by Clyde himself. “If they’re gonna spy on us, we’re gonna do the same fuckin’ thing to them.”
“Sit back and relax,” Winston finally broke his silence, standing tall next to his doppelganger. “My twin and I will crash this party and dig up as much dirt as possible.”
“And he and I are the only two who can be in two places at once,” Twinston added.
“Then we infiltrate tonight!” Ryan announced. “Because gentlemen, Greek Row is a pair of tight spandex trunks. And there’s only room for one big dick.”
***
Watching Tai work was amazing.
At the ABK Masquerade, the masked Sarah sat at the bar in the massive concert venue. Clyde’s 90’s cover band was onstage. Like clockwork, the masked Tai would sniff out gay clientele, grab a fake ID from the binder, approach him, make out with him on the dance floor, and come back with a fistful of dollars.
“I’m averaging one sale per song,” Tai panted, wiping somebody’s lipstick from his mouth. “Here, hit me with another ID!”
“You do know this is borderline prostitution, my dude?”
“I...yes.”
Prostitution or not, they racked up a thousand bucks in the first hour. And with Gigi taking a cut of their sales, they were going to need that extra money to keep this operation afloat.
“Take a break, will ya?” Sarah suggested, patting the barstool next to her.
The freckle-faced redhead from Clyde’s BMW was bartending. She wore bright blue fairy wings, a lacy corset, and a glittery half-mask. “Two lemon drops, my loves,” she cooed in a Scottish accent, setting the drinks on the bar. “Aw, I love how comfy you two look!”
Tai and Sarah were dressed down in South App hoodies and yoga pants: items that every female or gay student owned. The goal was to not stand out while selling fake IDs. And yet, they had failed to wear masks.
“I prefer to dress like I do around the house,” the fairy said with a smile, fluttering off to help the next patron.
Outside, Winston and Twinston - the twin spies - walked up the ABK steps in matching button-downs, slacks, and white opera masks. They psyched each other up. The “Who’s got big dicks? We’ve got big dicks!” standard affair. Suddenly, a pack of drunk girls stormed out the front door and spilled an entire glass of cranberry vodka on Winston’s khakis. “Suck it up, buttercup!” she slurred, stumbling off with her posse. Co-ed fraternity girls were a different breed.
“Shit,” Winston muttered, looking down at the mess.
“Better go change, brother,” Twinston suggested. “I’mma gather some intel until you get back.”
Winston retreated to the BDE house while Twinston entered the party alone. He stood at the entrance, absorbing the nostalgia of the 90’s rock set. Permanently-seated Clyde was on drums. A crowd of groupies sang along up front while everyone else gathered on the dance floor.
“Jack and Coke,” Twinston told the fairy bartender. “If you have time.”
From the dance floor, Tai and Sarah were casually mingling and making fake ID sales. They were also people-watching. “It’s fucking uncanny,” Tai began, pointing at Twinston from afar.
“I’m telling you, that’s not Winston,” Sarah argued. “If you want proof, ask him to drop his pants. My brother has a birthmark on his upper-left ass cheek.”
“W-what?!”
“That dude could fool almost anyone though. But a sister always knows.”
Suddenly, all eyes shot toward the front door. In walked a young South Korean student in a baby-blue evening dress. Trailing behind her was a long, ornate satin train. The side-splitting fabric exposed her white-laced garter belt that ran from her thighs to her matching open-toed high heels. Instantly, she won the room.
Clyde hit the final snare, ending his Jane’s Addiction cover. “Well, don’t just stand there, princess!” Clyde called out to the woman, beckoning her onstage with a drumstick. “Come on up and introduce yourself.”
Princess Gigi obliged, but not before giving Tai and Sarah a passing glance. “I hope you’re on your A-game with those sales,” she whispered with a devious grin. “Because I need money for a red dress just like this one!”
Sarah tugged on Tai’s sleeve. “Let’s get the fuck out of here!” she hissed. “Hey...uh bartender?”
“I’m Miri,” the Scottish redhead responded. “But I bid you call me Miri.”
“Miri, care to point us to the back door?”
Tai and Sarah slipped through the kitchen and out the back door. Miri kept pouring for thirsty patrons, all while eyeing this Korean bombshell on stage.
“Um...hi, everyone!” Gigi greeted, while the seated Clyde held the microphone to her mouth. “It’s my birthday today, and...I’m sober! Who wants to help me change that?”
Every man on the dance floor cheered like Quentin Tarantino with a glass slipper. Their girlfriends gave Gigi dirty looks, holding their men close. Clyde leaned into her ear. “Don’t let me catch you paying for a single drop tonight.” He turned around and rolled back to the drum set. He clicked his sticks and began a Chili Peppers cover. The party was back underway.
“Another Jack and Coke,” Twinston requested from Miri. “Make it a double-shot.” From the bar, he’d watched the entire spectacle. Now, Gigi was walking over to him.
“Please read,” Gigi said, plopping down next to Twinston. She slipped the thin fabric of her dress to the side, exposing a pale white thigh. Then, she reached under her garter belt for a letter. She slid it across the bar, showing off her baby-blue painted nails. Twinston peeled off the heart-shaped sticker and unfolded the letter. Written in cursive was the most kinky, depraved to-do list of sex acts he had ever seen. At the bottom was a signed statement: For my birthday I, Ji-hye “Gigi” Moon, hereby sign my virginity over to Winston Arnold Beavers.
Clearly, Gigi had the wrong man.
As soon as Miri returned with Twinston's drink, Gigi swiped it. She sipped her first taste of whiskey through a straw, her bedroom eyes growing wider and wider. She slammed the glass of ice on the bar. Then, she leaned into Twinston’s ear and passed an ice cube from her mouth to his.
“Hey, uh...bartender?” Twinston stammered, as Gigi ran her tongue across his fuzzy beard.
“Back door’s through the kitchen,” Miri laughed in a Scottish accent as she watched the flirtatious pair.
Twinston grabbed Gigi’s hand and jetted out of there. If Winston caught them, he’d impale them with his chainsaw and cut the engine on. So they cut across the back yard and entered Twinston’s first-floor bedroom through the window. She immediately slipped out of her dress, leaving on nothing but the heels and garter belt. And as the masked girl spread her legs, Twinston kept telling himself that this was consensual.
***
Winston entered the ABK house in a filthy pair of blue jeans from that morning. The crowd waved their lighters while Clyde’s band played Semisonic’s “Closing Time.” Seeing as it was last call, Winston made a bee-line for the bar. “I’ll have a Jack and Coke, Miss,” Winston said to Miri, tipping his hat. “If you have time.”
Miri cocked her head, her wings and eyebrows twitching. “Wait...what’s going on?” she asked, taken aback by Winston’s twin from five minutes earlier.
“Alcoholism, that’s what,” Winston chuckled. “Why, I reckon you’ve just seen a ghost. Wanna have a drink with me to calm the spirits?” He was here to gain ABK intel. But her freckled face, wavy red hair, and Scottish accent were definitely a bonus.
“Apparently so!” Miri laughed, her breasts bouncing up and down in that tight corset. “Tell you what: I’ll toast with ya.”
Miri poured Winston’s Jack and Coke and the umpteenth cranberry vodka of the night. But like the mystical fairy creature she was, she garnished her drink with a handful of blueberries, a splash of lemon juice, and a basil leaf.
“Seventy-nine,” Winston randomly said as they clinked glasses across the bar.
“Hmmm?”
“Seventy-nine. I reckon that’s how many freckles you have on your face.”
“Ah...well, let’s see. I've never counted before. But on my whole body? Well...we’re definitely in quadruple digits.” Miri leaned in close, the scent of gin and spearmint on her breath. “If you want to take me to my room and count them, I can do 150 an hour. That is, if you’re a fast counter.”
Winston chuckled, then slipped something into her henna-tattooed hand. “I mighty appreciate it. But I’d rather ya tell me a little bit about this place. Thinkin’ about pledging.” A lie, of course.
Without missing a beat, Miri slapped a bag of blue-and-white cocaine on the bar. “Tell ya what: you try ours and I’ll try yours.” Right in front of everyone, she opened the bag of red-and-what cocaine and split it into lines.
Winston’s jaw dropped. It was all coming together in his slow-churning mind. Taggart and ABK had been gathering intel to corner the entire fucking college cocaine market. While Miri dropped her head to do a line, Winston slipped his rival’s cocaine into his pocket. All right, I’ve got what I came for. No thanks to Twinston. Time to report back to Ryan.
“Yo, the concert’s over but the night has just fucking begun!” Clyde announced on the mic. “Ladies only: get your asses to the center of the dance floor. You know what time it is!”
Miri’s head shot up from her third line of cocaine. She released an orgasmic Scottish moan. Then, this mystical fairy pranced into the center of the room, spun on her heel, and gave a curtsey in her outfit.
What the hell is going on? Winston thought, sipping his whiskey. He reached into his back pocket for a napkin and felt something else instead. Slowly, he held Gigi’s lacy yellow panties in front of his face. Miri, how the hell did you put this in my pocket without me noticing? Hell, I reckon this bitch is a fairy after all.
“DJ, hit the music!” Clyde commanded. Fergie’s “London Bridge” blared through the speakers and rang across Greek Row. The tipsy Miri swayed her hips to the violent bass beat, shedding her wings. Applause erupted from the crowd.
“Now just what are we to do about this corset?” Miri cooed, puckering her lower lip.
“Take it off!” the brothers chanted. And she did. Winston instantly realized that her “1000-freckles” estimate was correct.
“Lose that skirt!” the crowd commanded.
Winston nervously tapped his foot. Not because he was afraid of seeing a naked woman. That road was heavily-traveled and full of potholes. But Miri was drunk, and nobody was doing a damn thing about it. She hooked her thumbs beneath her pink-and-blue skirt and pulled it down to her ankles. No underwear, and a hundred more freckles on Winston’s scoreboard.
“Make yourself decent, moron!” Winston called out, sling-shotting the yellow panties across the room to Miri. She reached up and caught them, red-eyed high and shit-faced drunk. “These…these aren’t mine. But they sure are cute!”
What?! Who the fuck do they belong to then? And why the fuck were they in my pocket?!
Regardless, Miri slipped into the tight panties. She gave a polite curtsy and fluttered away through the kitchen and out the back door.
“Yo, what the fuck man?” Clyde raged as he watched the action from his wheelchair. “You fuckin’ scared her off! DJ, cut the music!”
Fergie stopped singing and all eyes fell on Winston. He took a deep breath and boldly stepped into the center of the dance floor. “She was fucking wasted, partner. Are y’all really gonna make her do all that?”
“It doesn’t fucking matter,” Clyde seethed. “It’s Friday: we drink, and Miri strips. She’s a whore. And that’s what whores do. Who the fuck do you think you are anyway? S-s-somebody take off his mask!”
But Winston removed his own mask and tossed it on the floor. There he was: invading ABK just as the phony Mississippian Taggart had invaded BDE.
“Leave it to a Beta to look for pussy at an Alpha’s party!” Clyde jeered over the mic. “Can you all believe this white-knight faggot tried to stand up for a fuckin’ whore?”
Winston couldn’t resist a comeback. It was too easy. “At least I can actually stand, you fucking cretin.”
Every single hand covered a gasping mouth. Winston turned and walked into the kitchen, building up to a sprint out the back door. Rabid yells from behind as he cut across BDE’s back yard, dashing past rows of trees and street lights to the end of Greek Row. At the dimly-lit street sign, he collapsed into the grass.
Winston, ya done fucked up now.
“Yo, you okay, bro?” somebody called out.
Winston looked up and saw two douchey frat boys carrying acoustic guitars. Before he could get up, one of them had already hoisted him to his feet. He winced as he put pressure on a sprained ankle.
“You had way too much, my man!” Guitar Guy 1 said. “And it’s not even nine yet. Gotta pace yourself!”
“Yeah, man,” agreed Guitar Guy 2, brushing grass off Winston’s shoulder. “Hey, why don’t you come with us to Alpha Beta Kappa’s party? I hear our president’s band is fuckin’ killing it tonight.”
Winston felt his soul leave his body. Suddenly, Guitar Guy 1’s phone rang.
“Hello?” Guitar Guy 1 answered his phone. “Hey, what’s up, Clyde. Yeah, yeah, we’re almost there. We’ve got our guitars and...huh? Oh shit, you talking ‘bout the guy dressed like a cowboy? Yeah, man, he’s right here. Drunk as fuck, I’ll tell ya h’what. Wait, what? He said what to you? No, fuck that. FUCK. THAT! Yeah, man, we’re gonna take care of him right the fuck now!”
Winston slowly backed up to the street sign, a hot pain searing through his ankle. Running was out of the question.
“You so much as move, we aim for the head,” said Guitar Guy 2, shouldering his weapon.
Winston placed his back to the street sign and sank to a seated position. He looked up at the fretted assailants. Not with fear, but with acceptance. “I know all about your frat’s cocaine operation. And all I gotta say: I’m gonna run it into the motherfuckin’ ground.”
Guitar Guy 1 went for a cross slice, cracking the guitar against Winston’s head. He bled before he hit the grass in a fetal position. His body convulsed in a seizure.
“Yo, no face shots!” Guitar Guy 2 screamed, kicking Winston in the ribs to vent his frustration. He brought his ax above his head and hammered down on his gut. Winston released the death cry of a wounded gazelle. But instead of delivering that final blow, the Guitar Guys looked at one another and nodded. Then, they dropped their pastel board shorts and proceeded to piss on Winston’s wounds from head to toe.
“Look at the sign and tell me what the fuck it says, cuck!” Guitar Guy 1 yelled, stomping his face with his boat shoes one last time. They zipped up their shorts and ran off. A groaning Winston wiped his bloody, sopping-wet face and looked up at the sign. Crenshaw Ave. Just like his father’s legacy, Clyde was here to stay.
Winston blacked out.
***
It wasn’t rape. It was my choice. It wasn’t rape. It was my choice. It. Was. My choice.
Gigi stared at her reflection in the dorm room mirror. Tears and mascara flowed down her face, streaking her cleavage and her wrinkled gown. With fumbling hands, she unwrapped a Plan B Morning-After Pill and slipped it between her dry, chapped lips. She cupped some water into her hand and swallowed, gripping the edges of the sink as she looked back at the defiled girl in the mirror. Hours earlier, she had been pure. Now, she stank of sweat, Walmart-brand musk, and a stranger’s bodily fluids. It was only when Twinston had taken off his mask that she’d realized she had made love to a man she did not know.
Only minutes to midnight. Soon, the wrinkled evening gown would disappear, and Gigi would be reduced to dirty rags and cloths. “This...this is certainly the kind of dress I would want to die in,” she told her reflection, forcing a smile as she permitted tears to flow freely.
A fall from the seventh story would surely kill Gigi. She envisioned her mangled corpse on the gnarled roots below. Then, she feverishly latched onto something to keep her alive for one more day.
Froyo! Tomorrow was the grand opening of the local frozen yogurt joint. I’ll get to choose my favorite sugary toppings to pile on my watermelon sorbet. But tonight, I didn't choose to have sex with that man. It was not. My. Fault.
Gigi’s phone rang. It was Sarah. “Gigi, get your ass down to the third floor - quick!
Gigi flew down the stairs, tripping over a few drunk students in the process. She stood in the doorway of Room 309, where a bloodied cowboy lay his head in Sarah’s lap. Tai sat on the futon, handing Sarah gauze and rubbing alcohol from the first aid kit.
“Gigi,” Winston mumbled. He lifted his head, then set it back down as he erupted into a coughing fit. “You look...great. Not as sexy as my sister though. But I’m from the South, so it’s family first. Roll tide...”
Sarah and Gigi smiled weakly, seeing how Winston was slowly returning back to normal. But Gigi’s smile turned to shock as she got a closer look at his face. One eye was swollen shut and bleeding from the corner. A large knot on his head oozed pus, even as Sarah frequently dabbed it with a tissue. His twitching body hinted at the lacerations and bruises beneath his bloody t-shirt. And through Winston’s smile, he was missing a bottom tooth.
“Everybody fucking leave!” Gigi exploded, dropping to her knees and laying her head on Winston’s chest. He winced at first, but slowed his breathing as she held his hand. She sobbed her eyes out, soaking Winston’s shirt and beard.
“Gigi, look,” Tai said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Winston needs all of us right now. Not just-”
Gigi fetched the 22-caliber pistol from her purse and slammed it on the tile floor. “I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT! OUT, OUT, OUT!”
Winston’s heart raced as Gigi squeezed his hand with all her might. “It’s all my fault,” she whispered, as if they were already alone. “If only I let you keep your gun, you could have defended yourself.”
“Buddy, that just ain’t plum-fuckin’ true. Ain’t nobody’s fault but mine. I talked shit and got hit.”
Sarah and Tai quietly slipped out the door, most likely to count their fake ID earnings.
Gigi positioned Winston’s head on her lap and ran her small hands through his messy brown hair. “This ain’t the first time you caught me covered in piss. Reckon it won’t be the last.”
Gigi giggled. “I’ll...I’ll be here all night to protect you.” She clutched the gun with one hand and ran her fingers through his hair with the other. “And we can wash your hair in the morning.”
“Thanks, buddy. I reckon I done gots me a few enemies now. So...ya ain’t gonna let the piss fairies sneak in and give me a golden shower...are ya?”
“I...I won’t let you down!” Gigi laughed, gripping the gun. “And if the pee bandits come around here, I’ll politely escort their hind keisters a third-of-a-dozen floors north, where their skin shall bubble under the 100 Kelvin internal temperature of our antiquated heating and cooling apparatus!”
“Shit,” Winston moaned, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. “If they don’t fix your AC sooner or later...you may have to move down here and live with me.”
While Winston rested, Gigi stood watch all night. She forgot all about what Twinston had done to her. Misery loved company. And while Gigi never wished for anything bad to happen to Winston, his timing couldn’t have been better.
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2020.09.03 22:48 SloppyEyeScream A Fuck-Ton of Mortars and The Naked Truth

TLDR: Still Going With, A Fuck-Ton of Mortars and The Naked Truth
Warning: I surmise the journey down this rabbit hole will be longer than some of my previous stories. If you suffer from erectile dysfunction (ED), Frotteurism, or Rectal Cranial Inversion (RCI) I suggest you forgo the below story and seek medical help. Be advised that OP does not have a notional gun to your head and you are therefore under no obligation to participate in this death roll.
I arguably had the most eclectic Fire Team in the entire history of Fire Teams. Aside from being in the Army, there was very little common ground shared by my group of misfits. I think we can collectively agree I had the most commonsense deprived humanoid in Hawk, and Hawk certainly did his part to besmirch the Fire Team. Hawk was not enough though. Ares, the fucking God of War himself, made every attempt to ensure I became a well rounded leader and saw fit to bestow Tom upon me. Tom; the fucking Brit.
Tom spent his crib-midget to adolescent years in the United Kingdom before finally settling down in God's country, the United States. Tom may have been an adult according to American law, but he was only a six year old American. Tom still referred to french fries as "chips" and thought the word "cunt" somehow trumped the word "fuck". Uncle Sam may have mistakenly thought Tom was an American, but he still had to earn that prestigious honor in my book.
I have no less than five deployments working with the Brits. I firmly understand the United Kingdom and United States differ in many regards. One thing I know to be true is accents. Like the United States, the United Kingdom, and the folks that inhabit it have different accents based upon region or location. With the knowledge I garnered from these deployments now under my belt I can now only assume that Tom is the British version of a hillbilly.
First order of business was to ALWAYS ensure Hawk didn't accidentally kill himself. The second order of business was to Americanize Tom. I could hear my ancestors demand this of me. So the process began. I know what you are thinking dear reader! "How do you indoctrinate and Americanize Tom?" There are only three steps in the process and they are repeated until they become concrete law.
(This is what I actually called it!)
Big Surefire Americanization Citizen (Big SAC)

  1. Watch John Wayne Movie(s)
  2. Introduce Cheery Skoal; Then Progress to Copenhagen
  3. Believe Other Countries are Wrong and/or Inferior
Again, the Big-SAC is a relatively simple process. Step two may require a bit of repetition, and step three merely requires conviction. I thought Tom was coming along well until this happened. Xbox gaming systems were interlinked and we were getting our murder-fill via Team Slayer matches in Halo.
Tom: Sergeant OP. Can I spit in your butthole?
OP: (Puzzled. I certainly heard this request wrong.) What did you say Tom?
Tom: Butthole. Please let me spit in your butthole!
OP: (Certainly my brain is not working. Tom is smarter than Hawk. One more chance.) Tom. Slow down. Use your American English and repeat what you said.
Tom: (Now exuberant.) I NEED TO SPIT IN YOUR BUTT-HOLE!
OP: Tom. I am not entirely familiar with "how you roll" in the UK, but we Americans don't let just anyone spit in our BUTTHOLES.
Tom: NO! (Reaches over my chair. Grabs empty water bottle) BUT-TULL. Can I spit in your Butt-Tull?
OP: I think we are succeeding in our attempt to Americanize you, but the accent is still ripe with sexual overtones. Please, from now on, call this a water "jug" and don't ask that question to ANYONE outside our Fire Team.
FAST FORWARD (Mid-Deployment)
Our particular compound was small, and off the beaten path. Unfortunately though, we were approximately 400 meters from a much larger Forward Operating Base (FOB). That FOB was not off the beaten path and was often the recipient of rocket and mortar attacks. Due to our proximity, we often received the miscalculated overshot!
I was sitting outside with a fellow friend. Just enjoying our Copenhagen and scorching heat. We playfully bash Tom when he walks by on his way to the port-a-johns, located beside semi-truck sized generator that powered the compound. Blake and I continue our random conversation for at least 30 minutes until we realize Tom is still in the bathroom. Then another 15 minutes pass. How long does it take to cut some bum slugs? Then it happens!
(BOOM)
An errant round hits inside the compound. We pause for a second, and then continue to wait. Blake and I were protected from three side of the entry way. Our only exposure was from above, and in front of us. We felt lucky, and lazy enough to play the life-lottery.
OP: Think we should go inside?
Blake: Probably just one round!
OP: Probably right.
Blake: What about Tom?
OP: Probably scarred the shit right out of him.
Blake: TOM. YOU OKAY?
Tom: (Muffled) Yeah.
(Whistle....BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!)
The round had just hit on the other side of the generator. The concussion wave was profound enough to blow each and every port-a-john door wide open. Out comes Tom, butt-fucking-naked, and at a dead sprint for the building. Blake and I were certainly puzzled, but this was not the time for Question and Answers.
We all return to the sanctuary of the hard structure building and to our room. Each of us claim real estate on our respective beds. Tom is still butt-fucking-naked.
OP: (Still puzzled.) Tom!?! Why are you naked? Some people are in-and-out poopers. Some people are loud, and others take their time, but WHY ARE YOU NAKED TOM?
Tom: I am always naked when I shit Sergeant OP.
OP: Always? Why?
Tom: Don't know. I have always done it this way.
OP: Maybe I could understand if you were about to shower or something. Specifically, at your house or a hotel room, but that is a port-a-john Tom. A deployment port-a-john Tom. I have no doubt a forensic light would find ungodly amounts of shower-babies and baby-gravy. Yet you see fit to undress and shit naked?
Tom: Yup!
Now you have a nascent understanding of Tom, which means I can now actually tell you the title story.
FAST FORWARD (Two Deployment Later: Iraq)
We conducted all the necessary Troop Leading Procedures (TLPs) and were about embark on a raid. My Fire Team would be traveling via gun trucks in a convoy that would isolate the object via blocking positions. The Assault Force would simultaneously arrive via helicopters. It was simple enough, but there is always a tale within a tale on this journey.
We had arrived and superbly executed our mission. We prosecuted targets and there were zero "squirters" (Bipedal humanoids fleeing objective area) during the raid. My Fire Team both mounted and dismounted, and it was time to return to the gun truck. It was now dawn. There was no more need for Night Vision Goggles. Radio chatter is going back-and-forth and the Convoy Commander was getting Ammo, Casualty, Equipment (ACE) reports in preparation to depart.
Convoy Commander: OP. You will be trail vehicle as we RTB (Return to Base).
OP: Roger.
Tom: (Gunner) So. How was it being dismounted?
OP: Cold. Good though!
Hawk: Sergeant OP.
OP: Yes Hawk.
Hawk: Did you throw a piss bottle back here?
OP: No?!? Why would I Hawk? If I had to piss during the infil I would have done it, up here, because I have more space. Furthermore, I would not have tossed it in the back seat. Why?
Hawk: Oh.
OP: Why?
Hawk: Pretty sure I just drank my own piss.
OP: You pissed during infil?
Hawk: Roger.
OP: Where did you put it?
Hawk: The floor.
OP: There is a case of water right beside you Hawk.
Hawk: Roger Sergeant. Just figured I would drink the one on the floor.
OP: Hawk. It is light out. THE SUN IS OUT. How did you not notice the discoloration?
Hawk: Thought it was flavor pack. Nope! I drank my own piss Sergeant!
Sorry. I digress. The tale within the tale is complete. Story time begins. We arrive back at our FOB. We go through the process of unfucking everything and ensuring we are ready to depart again if required. Most of the guys are tired, the only thing we are concerned about is well earned sleep. Not everyone though, Tom declares that it is time to "shit and shower". Great! I know how long your underwater sculptures take. I suppose I will see him sometime tomorrow.
This FOB was in the heart of Baghdad. We were not exactly hidden. We of course received our fair share of Indirect Fire (IDF), but what was in store was something to behold. We received 18 mortar rounds on the initial barrage. There was more to come, and the sirens were screaming, "INCOMING, INCOMING. TAKE COVER. INCOMING, INCOMING. TAKE COVER."
I awake to the familiar sound of chaos. We were in hard structure buildings. I was not worried despite the chaos outside. Most of the platoon was still nestled in their beds. The Platoon Sergeant makes his way room to room to "get an up." I have all my humans, except Tom.
Every time we thought there was a reprieve in the fire, another round would hit. The "ALL CLEAR" was our anthem to re-engage the Sandman. I was not worried at first. Tom wasn't Hawk, so I assumed he was safe. Tom was somewhere on this FOB, but safe.
I waited for what felt like an eternity. The Platoon Sergeant, a friend, sat beside me as we cracked stories of Tom.
Platoon Sergeant (PSG): Where did you say he was going?
OP: Shit and then shower.
PSG: My god. He was probably still shitting!
Just then, another round hits. BOOM! It was close. We are protected by concrete walls, but this angry lump of metal and shrapnel just landed outside our building. We heard Tom. There was no mistaking that thick hillbilly, yet British accent.
Tom: OHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!
We hear the slam of the entry door as the vast amount of counterweights do their job. Then the clapping of feet up the stairs. Then my door is thrust open as the one man assault force enters my room. Our assessment was correct, it was Tom. Tom was now standing in front of us, BUTT-FUCKING-NAKED!
Tom: IT WAS THE ONLY PLACE TO GO. I BETTER NOT GET IN TROUBLE!
I don't even acknowledge what he said. I was sitting down on my bed. Tom was in front of me. The only thing that caught my eye was this uncircumcised love log mere inches from my face. Show some respect for my personal space!
PSG: (Looks at me. Smiles): He is your guy!
OP: Tom. What the actual fuck!
Tom: (Hopped up on Mountain Dew ready to come at my like a spider moneky): IT WAS THE ONLY PLACE TO GO AND I BETTER NOT GET IN TROUBLE. I WASN'T THINKING.
OP: Tom. Slow down brother. What the fuck are you talking about? PLEASE, tell me why you are standing in front of me naked.
Tom: I told you was going to shit and then shower right?
OP: Yes.
Tom: I was in the shitter (Containerized Bathroom. Not port-a-john). Then a round hit. I didn't think much of it. Then another round hit. Still no worries. In my mind, I was going to finish shitting and then shower. THEN THE MOTHER FUCKING BATHROOM GOT HIT. Sergeant OP, THE FUCKING CEILING CAVED IN. THE LIGHTS WERE OFF. I just fucking ran!
OP: Tom. I got that. Why do you think are in trouble? Yes, you took your time seeking cover. But what the fuck?
Tom: I know. Seek cover! I did Sergeant OP. I ran from the bathroom. I ran to the first hard structure building that caught my eye.
I should mention that this bathroom was firmly planted between numerous hard structure buildings. There were bunkers, but these buildings were closer.
OP: Okay Tom. So why didn't you stay there until the All Clear?
TOM: Okay. Okay. I took a right out of the bathroom and started running towards our building. Then another round hit. I was near our vehicles, and another round hit. I RAN TO THE FIRST BUILDING SERGEANT!
OP: (Brain computing Tom's location. Location: ACQUIRED!) You ran into the female barracks?
Tom: It was the first building. I was out in the open.
OP: (Reader, I am now eagerly intrigued.) Go on.
Tom: I BETTER NOT GET IN TROUBLE.
Dick-meat still just flopping as Tom animatedly conveys the sequence of events you are about to read!
Tom: I went to the female barracks. Then I realized I was in the female barracks. Then I realized I was naked in the female barracks. Do you know that female Major?
Ordinarily, going into the female barracks is a huge fucking no-go. Think of it like the 11th Commandment. Thou shall not enter the female barracks if thou has womb broom. I think a mortar barrage is an exception to policy though!?!
OP: The Public Affairs Officer (PAO)?
Tom: Yeah.
OP: What about her?
Tom: She looked at me. Laughed and then went to her room. She returned with a towel. Not like a full towel, and not a washrag. Like the in-between kind. Know what I am talking about?
OP: Yeah. Like a face towel?
Tom: Yeah. Sure. Well, she handed it to me. I said thanks, but I don't know what I was thinking.
OP: WHAT TOM?
Tom: I had just gotten interrupted shitting. I then had to run for my life Sergeant. The only thing I thought when she handed me that towel was to wipe my ass. So I did, and tried to hand it back. When I seen the disgust in her eyes, I IMMEDIATELY realized my error. I was so embarrassed I dropped the towel and ran out of the building. I believe that is when you heard me yelling. IT WAS AN ACCIDENT SERGEANT OP. I BETTER NOT GET IN TROUBLE.
The PSG and myself are now laughing uncontrollably. I struggle to catch my breathe as I imagine Tom wiping his ass with a face towel, then realizing the flaw in his logic, being embarrassed, and then rapidly departing to play IDF-hopscotch. The entire Squad (I progressed in position/rank) is rolling on the floor, except one person.
Hawk: (Grin. Shit eating grin) Did you see any pussy?
OP: Hawk. Tom was naked. Not the girls!
I, later in the day, kindly explained the situation to the female Major. She was a beautiful lady, and thankfully she was very understanding after the story.
Major PAO: Please tell him to come back and get his towel. It is still on the floor. None of us are going to touch it!
Tom was forever embarrassed in her presence. He is out now, but I still talk to him sporadically. Once a year or so. We always have a good laugh, and I am certain this story will outlive him. It will be his legacy so to speak. Tom is now an American!
EDIT: Same cast and crew for the most part. I had now inherited another Fire Team as I took the Squad over. I was about to inherit the Platoon, and the Platoon Sergeant was about to inherit the Company. Hawk was a perennial Specialist, and that rank would become his glass ceiling!
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