The Dragon Stood in Front of the Woman so that it Might Devour Her Child

The old woman sat in her wheelchair, alone. She smiled up at the warmth that gently touched her face. She loved the spring time. She shifted in her chair and smoothed the wrinkles out of the quilt that lay on her lap.

                So peaceful.

                Jenny, the lovely young lady that took care of her now, had let out her hair and brushed it smooth for her. Just like Mama used to. It was nice to let one’s hair down every once in a while. The bun was functional, not comfortable. She reached up and ran her fingers through her hair. It was so wispy now, she sighed. When she was a girl the older ladies would always complement her on her thick hair. Now she knew why; it was a gift that was meant to be lost.

                Her granddaughter had such lovely hair.

                What a sweet girl.

                The old woman loved to brag about her little one going off to college with the bingo girls. Although they probably hated to listen, she didn’t care. After her son and his wife died in that terrible crash several years ago, she didn’t know if the little one would be able to heal and amount to anything. But with God’s grace and strength she had pulled through it all and came out as a strong, beautiful woman. Inside and out.

                “I think biochemical engineering is like when they create new livers for drunks,” she would laugh as she tried to explain her granddaughter’s career path. Such a smart girl. That one’s going to be doctor.

                She could just see her cute face. She still had the baby fat on her cheeks, and she loved to wear those cute dresses with the pig tails in her hair.

                “Grammy!” she would explain. “If I keep my hair like this, then people wont want to brush it all the time! I hate that!”

                The old lady would always smile. Funny how such a pretty girl hated having her hair brushed for her. When she was her age, she just loved having Mama brush her hair. She was always so gentle.

                She died, you know. Twenty years ago. Leukemia took that sweet woman out of this world. But it was all ok, you see. Right now she’s up in heaven taking care of that son of mine and his beautiful wife. They’re waiting on me.

                “Excuse me,” came the soft voice of Jenny from behind, who had also reached out and placed her hand on the old woman’s shoulder. The old woman reached up and placed her soft, wrinkled hand on top and squeezed the young woman’s fingers. “What is it, dear?”

                “There is a man here wanting to speak with you,” she said, rubbing her hand over the old woman’s tired shoulder.

                “What does he want?” she inquired.

                “He wants to speak with you about your granddaughter,” was the reply.

                The old woman felt her heart skip a beat, praise the Lord, he’s come back to see me!

                Her memory jumped back to two weeks prior.

~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~

                The air had just warmed up enough for the old woman to finally sit out in the sun again. It had been a rough winter. Praise the Lord, the spring was almost here.

                “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Bring that young gentleman right over here.”

                Jenny had removed her hand and walked back across the grass and the old woman could hear off behind her, “She has agreed to speak with you.”

                “Thank you so much,” said a soft, deep voice. It was very warming.

                The man walked over to the old woman and sat down in a chair opposite of the woman.

                “Good afternoon, ma’am,” he said in a very upbeat, confident voice.

                The old woman smiled and said, “Yes it is. Jenny, my nurse, has told me that you bring me news of my granddaughter?” She held out her frail hands to the young man, who took them politely. 

                He hands were rather large, and very warm, just like his voice. They were strong hands. She ran her fingers along his palms, and he let her. They were callused in several places, just like her late husband. He must have been a blue collar worker. Maybe a construction man or a farmer perhaps.

                “Yes,” he cleared his throat. “I actually go to school with your granddaughter.”

                “Do you now?” exclaimed the woman. “She is a smart one that she is. People have told me she gets it from me.” The woman chuckled.

                “That’s not the only thing she gets from you,” said the man in a knowing voice. “She is very beautiful.”

                “Ha!” said the woman. “It seems like you need to get your glasses checked. My granddaughter’s beauty is all her own.”

                “That’s why she is so fantastic,” said the man, almost to himself.

                “Well,” said the old woman. “Instead of treating my granddaughter like the goddess Aphrodite, why don’t you tell me why you are here. I doubt it’s just to keep an old woman company.”

                “Yes,” said the man. “Well, I have known your granddaughter for a good two years now, and I am very, very fond of her. Like everyone is, of course. But, I have been given the privilege of being able to see her romantically, sort of speak, for the past year and a half. And we are both graduating this spring, and as a sort of graduation present, I would really like to purpose to her.”

                The old woman couldn’t have been happier. She was in euphoria. She moved his hands around in hers, studying all of the nooks and crannies. She folded his hands together and placed her hands on the outside. “I think that would be a marvelous idea,” she smiled. “Is she here?” she then asked.

                “Unfortunately, no,” was the reply. “I couldn’t risk her finding out. With that sort of excitement, I didn’t want to risk her getting distracted, especially with her midterm and finals.”

                The old woman was a little disappointed. “I understand,” she said. “You are very thoughtful.”

                “I try to be,” said the man.

                “Well,” said the woman, who removed her hands and smoothed out the quilt that was folded up on her lap. “Can I interest you in going inside for some hot chocolate? This old bones of mine just ‘bout frozen, sittin out here. I would love to hear more about you.”

                The man stood up, “I would love to push you back inside, but I’m afraid that I have some more homework to do before work tonight. Otherwise I would love to.”

                The old woman then said, “Don’t worry about me, sweetie. I will just get Jenny to push this dead weight back inside. I’ll let you get back to the real world.”

                She reached out with her hands again, and he took them. She used what strength she had to pull the man closed to her face, where she planted a kiss on his cheek.

              “You are a sweet thing,” she said, patting his other cheek. “You just brought some life back into my spirit. Bless you.”

                “Trust me,” said the man. “It’s my pleasure.”

                The man let go and began to walk back to the old folk’s home. The old woman was about to call Jenny when she realized, she didn’t get the young man’s name!

                “Hey!” she called behind her. “Young man!”

                “Yes ma’am!” came the reply, and she could hear him run back across the yard.

                “I didn’t get your name!” she said, as he neared. No reason for him to come all the way back.

                “Oh! I’m so, very sorry!” said he. “My name is Brooks!”

An Intersting, Beautiful, Delicious, Wonderfuly, Wicked Discovery to Churn your Butter, Baby

What was that song?

Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd.

That’s it.

That’s all he could feel right now, the gentle throbbing of his head.

The world was spinning.

This was the life.

Why didn’t he ever try tranquilizers before?

This shit is brilliant!

Fantastic!

Fucking amazing.

When I was a child, I had a fever.

Now that I’ve got that feeling once again,

I cannot explain,

You wouldn’t understand,

This is how I am.

The world was spinning.

I want to run my fingers through my hair.

I cant.

My arm wont move.

The hell?!

I tried the other arm, stuck too.

I was starting to get feeling back again in my face.

It felt like water running down my body.

My body tingled.

I slowly gain control of the muscles in my arms again, but my arms were still stuck in place.

Spread-eagle.

Maybe I was about to get raped.

If I could feel my cock, I’m pretty sure it would be throbbing over that prospect.

God that would be great.

A good old, gang bang.

I can feel my chest now.

Why does everything sore and all tingly?

I peeked open my left eye.

There was a dark figure hovering over my legs.

He was breathing very hard.

I can hear him.

I can smell him.

He’s sweating.

He’s nervous?

Why?

He’s not the one tied down.

What’s he doing with his right arm?

He’s massaging my legs?

Punching them?

I can feel my abs, they hurt.

Is he working his way down?

He let go and ran out of my vision.

I quickly shut my eye and heard him scurry around the room behind me.

I could feel my heart beating faster.

I want in on this joke.

A soft buzz rang around the room.

Stay quiet.

Stay still.

I lay there in darkness.

The sound of a door opening.

A voice I’ve never heard before echoed around the room, “Here is your chair. Everything alright? Anything happen?”

He had a deep voice.

He must be black.

Or The Rock.

I would be alright being raped by him.

That would be a trip.

A sharp, familiar voice cut through the room, “Yes! No? Maybe?”

The shrink.

The shrink is feeling me up?

How interesting.

He wants some of this, eh?

The deep voice then said, “Ok, well, if you need anything you can press this button, and it will patch you in to the front desk. If you need to leave, the code is 448512.”

Code?

Code to the door?

Where am I?

448512

If I can just get free of these bonds, then I now know how to get out of the room.

Ha!

Whores.

“Sounds good!”  said the shrink

“Ok, well, are you sure you’re ok?” asked the deep voice.

“I’m just fine,” was the reply.

Liar.

“Ok, well like I said, just ring if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

He could hear the a soft beeping sound.

Six beeps.

Six buttons.

448512

He was going to get out of here.

The door buzzed and opened and closed and a similar buzz followed.

We were alone at last.

Should I say something?

I peeked over at him.

He was still facing the door.

I could feel a grin stretch across my face.

No!

Calm down.

He turned around!

I quickly shut my eyes.

We shall see what he does.

I could hear him walk quietly towards my body.

He was lucky I was tied down.

I would fuck his shit up.

“Ok bud,” he whispered, half to himself, half to me. “Let’s take a look down south, shall me.”

Yes, we shall.

I felt a large hand gently land on my crotch.

All the muscles in my body flexed.

Yes, this was going to be a good night.

Yes, sir.

Unease in the Medical Wing

He burst through the prison’s pathetic excuse for an emergency room’s doors and demanded, “WHERE IS HE!?”

                The shrink strut up to what seemed to be the head nurse, a large, black man in pink scrubs. He was probably twice the size of the shrink in height, depth, and weight; however, that didn’t stop the shrink from getting up in his face (on tip-toes).

                “Where is my subject? Please God, tell me he’s still alive,” he demanded, puffing out his chest, trying to look as big as he possibly could. “He can’t die on me now!”

                The nurse put his dinner plate hand on the shrinks shoulder, chest, arm, area and said in his deep voice, “Calm down, sir. Mr. Brooks is just fine, he’s just all cut up. We have a nurse sewing him up now.”

                A sweep of relief rushed through the shrink’s body. “Thank God,” he whispered. “He’s no good to me dead. May I see him?”

                “Right this way,” said the nurse, who removed his hand, and motioned for the shrink to follow him down the hallway.

                As they walked the nurse said, “We have these front wards for minor injuries from fights, rapes, and such. The farther down you get, the more sophisticated the equipment. We have everything to treat flus, broken bones, migraines, and allergic reactions, anything you like.”

                The shrink peered into some of the rooms. Several of the inmates were bound to their beds via restrains. To his surprise, several of them wore muzzle like devices on their faces. “Do y’all have problems with prisoners biting the nurses?” he laughed nervously.

                “Spit, mostly,” said the nurse. “We do that to the inmates that are HIV positive. They like to bite their tongues and try and infect the nurses.”

                The shrink’s eyebrow went up and he clutched his throat, “Lovely,” he whispered.

                They reached the second to the last door on the right and the nurse put in a code on the steel door. With a buzz, it unlocked. “Right this way,” motioned the nurse for the shrink to go first, after he opened the door. The shrink sidestepped the nurse and walked in.

                The room was quite small. There was only a large table on the far wall, with shelves stacked up to the ceiling of all sorts of surgical equipment and different glass containers filled with liquids of different colors. The walls closest to the doors were covered in different monitors and clipboards with different information about the patient painted across their surfaces. And directly facing him was the bed were Mr. Brooks was under heavy anesthetic. Bound hand and foot with nylon straps, he was completely immobilized while the older, female nurse was busy sewing up the gash that ran along his forearm.

                “Oh my God,” whispered the shrink as they walked in.

                “Ha, ha!” laughed the head nurse as he quietly closed the door behind them, making a soft buzzing noise as it locked back. “You’re telling me! This crazy has some pain tolerance, the only time we see this sort of damage is when it’s being inflicted on by another inmate. This is a new level of self-mutilation for me.”

                The shrink quickly took his camera out of his bag and began to take picture of the wound that decorated the otherwise, perfect, white skin. What would drive someone to do this to himself? He turned to the elder lady, who had walked over the charts on the walls after she finished sewing together the cut (if you can even call it that). “Excuse me,” he asked. “Did he say anything before he was put under?”

                The woman looked up from her paperwork and scowled down at the man, “He just repeated the same thing over and over again.”

                The shrink traded his camera with a pad of paper, “And what was that?” he asked.

                “Did I bleed purple? Is there purple blood? Oh God! I want it,” she said solemnly.

                “Fascinating,” whispered the shrink as he quickly scribbled down the quote.

                “It’s not right,” she whispered. “I don’t want to be around here when he wakes up.”

                The shrink looked back up, “Can I?” He looked over his shoulder, where the head nurse was still standing.

                “I don’t see why not,” he said as he checked his watch. “You have clearance. Do you want me to get you a chair?”

                “That would be fantastic,” said the shrink.

                “Right,” said the nurse, who then turned to the elder lady. “Miss, you may leave. The doctor will watch the patient for a little while.”

                “Good for him,” she scoffed as she walked over to the door. “You wouldn’t catch me dead with that creep.”

                The pair of them walked out of the door and left the shrink alone with the subject. After he heard the door buzz, signaling that they had really left, the shrink put down his bag on the table and retrieved his camera. He had information to collect.

                He neared the unconscious body, he could his body cringe up and the hair on his arms and neck start to stand up. He placed his hand on the subject’s abdomen, it was warm and he could feel it raise and fall slowly with his breath. The shrink glanced back at the door. He felt like he was being watched. He glanced back at the body to make sure he wasn’t waking up. The then slid his head under the subject’s shirt and felt his stomach. It was covered in coarse hair. I ran his fingers through the wooly forest until he got to the chest. He could feel a heartbeat.

                He nervously turned back around and looked at the door. He had to act quickly before the nurse came back. Not only would it be awkward for the both of them, but he would probably get in trouble for mistreatment of the patient. However, this was science, and science was unorthodox, and this subject was unorthodox, so unorthodox methods were needed.

                The slowly began to lift the subject’s shirt. He didn’t have an excessive amount of fat around his abs, but you could still tell he wasn’t quite in shape. The shrink made a fist and began to lightly punch the abdomen, trying to get a flex. He had to know what kind of muscle mass he had. Was there too much testosterone in his system? Could that explain the violent murders?

                The shrink quickly worked his way around the slumbering body checking the muscle mass, and hair to bare skin ratio. He would snap pictures as much as he could. He checked the chest, arms, thighs, and legs. There was definitely obviously a decent amount of muscle present, but not a significantly so.

                Now body hair was another case. It seemed like the subject was covered in a thick black forest from head to foot. He even had the rare hair on his middle knuckles. One never sees that. The shrink check the door again, to make sure the head nurse hadn’t snuck back in. He had been gone for longer than ten minutes to get that chair. He was sure to get back any second. What was taking so long? Was there a security camera!?

                Oh God.

                He quickly ran turned his eyes to the ceiling and scanned the perimeter. If they were smart they would have one. Stupid! He should have thought of that before he even started! His removed his hands from the subject’s pant legs and began to search the room.

                “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” he whispered.

                A beeping noise came from the door.

                The nurse was back!

                The shrink grabbed his camera off of the body and sprinted back to the table where he lay his note pad on and began to pretend to write important notes.

                The buzzer went off.

                The shrink didn’t look up. He could feel the sweat bead up on his face, which was probably getting redder by the minute. His ears were hot and he felt a little dizzy. His pen didn’t want to stay in his hands. He was writing too fast. Slow down. Normal people don’t write that fast. Normal people also don’t feel up unconscious murders. I need to poop.

                The door opened up and the nurse walked in with a metal fold out chair. The shrink turned his head, still bent over the table, writing about a TV show he had seen last week on his notepad, and tried to put on the best smile he could muster. He had to look nature. You’re smiling too much. His face twitched.

                The nurse gave a half smile and his eyebrows pressed together, “Here is your chair.” He tried to study the shrink’s face and asked, “Everything alright?” His eyed the patient on the bed. “Anything happen?”

                “Yes,” the shrink quickly replied. Then he thought about it and corrected, “No! Maybe?”

                The nurse gave him a nervous smile and said, “Ok, well, if you need anything you can press this button,” he motioned to the small black one on the wall next to the doorframe, “and it will patch you in to the front desk. If you need to leave, the code is 448512.”

                “Sounds good!” confirmed the shrink.

                “Ok, well,” said the nurse who was turning around to push the code to the door. “Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked.

                The shrink stood up strait, pushing his shoulders back, time to look like a responsible adult now, he told himself. “I’m just fine,” he replied. He had given up on his fake smile. It probably look more like his had constipation than it looked like he knew what he was doing.

                “Ok,” the nurse said, smiling weakly. “Well like I said, just ring if you need anything.”

                “Will do,” confirmed the shrink.

                The nurse then turned his back and punched in the code and with a buzz, the door opened up. He walked back out into the hallway and shut the door behind him, the buzz sounded off again.

                The shrink let out a deep breath. He got away with it.

                He looked back over at the subject. Just one more thing to check.

                He grabbed his camera and walked over to the body. He should be waking up soon; he thought to himself, the anesthesia has been turned off for a while now. Oh well, he’s strapped down. Now to check to see what’s in his pants.

No Clues or Leads

“Ok, Mr. Tyler,” sighed the investigator, he was getting very weary of this case. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

                A young man sat opposite of the investigator in the white room. He was about average height, with a thin face, mousy hair, and light blue eyes. From what the investigator could tell, he wasn’t at all shaken up from the events that had passed through his life in the past week. His air of superiority was almost nauseating. No wonder he kept his nose high up in the air; to keep from having to smell it.

                “I don’t know what more you want from me, sir,” he replied. “The victim was in my geology class. I thought she was annoying, and the teacher liked to exploit that. I tried not to have anything to do with her.”

                “You said the teacher liked to exploit your dislike of the victim?” asked the inspector.

                “Yes,” Tyler was tired was being here, he wasn’t going to be worth anything pretty soon.

                “How?” asked the inspector, he had to juice him like an orange. Get all the information he could before the trail dried up. This mad man had no place in this society, or this life for that matter.

                “He would always try and pair the two of us up for lab assignments, or when he would ask a question, he would try to push the two of us into a debate,” the boy scoffed. “I hated that class.”
                “But,” asked the inspector, “Doesn’t that promote active learning?”

                “Hey man,” said the boy. “I was just there for the credits. I don’t actually give a shit about geology.”

                “You got an A in the class,” said the inspector.

                “And?” he asked.

                “Never mind,” the investigator rubbed his eyes. This was the fourth interview he had conducted today. He hated this part of the job. Why couldn’t he just be out on the streets looking for clues? Beating the shit out of the creep downstairs? Running fingerprints? Anything besides this.

                “Take me back to the day of the abduction,” said the investigator.

                “Well,” the boys took a drink of his coke. “There’s not much to tell. We had just started class and this man in a suit walked in. He asked to speak with her in the hallway. And then she was gone. Totally uneventful. No one thought any more of it.”

                “Ok,” said the inspector. “You my leave.”

                “Thank you,” was the reply, and within seconds the youth was out the door.

                The inspector put his elbows on the table and cupped his face in his hands. Fuck you, college career advisor. You told me nothing about having to do several interviews. Talking to so many people. So many stupid people. And I still have to go to the nursing home and talk to the grandma. He slammed his fist on the table and pushed his chair out to leave. He just wanted this case to be over. He had the confession. He had the body. He had the motive. Just no evidence.

                He killed her in an apartment that he didn’t belong in, with weapons that he didn’t own. He didn’t leave any DNA at the scene. No witnesses of the abduction, rape, or murder.

                If it weren’t for the terrified young couple that found the victim’s body in their apartment, or the fact that an incredibly intoxicated man stumbling around on the sidewalk below shouting out for the world to hear that he killed the girl, the inspector would have nothing to go on. The only physical lead that was actually present was the evidence of stalking found in his apartment. He was fully confident that he could get him with a jury on the stalking and confession. But a death sentence? Never. The best thing that could happen would be if the shrink could get him locked up in a loony bin for the rest of his life. Things were not looking very bright. Not at all.

                He walked out of the interview room and down the hall into the observation room. It was empty, of course. Everyone else had better things to do, than listen in on some mediocre interview with some mediocre kid. God. This was the pits.

                He walked over the table where he had laid out his notes before each session. The teacher, the best friend, the neighbor, and the classmate.

                He had learned a lot about the victim tonight. She was an orphan who grew up with her grandmother, according to the best friend. She was great in school, according to the classmate and the teacher. The neighbor said she would always be willing to help out. From old pictures, she was a very attractive young lady. He autopsy on the other hand, didn’t really help him out as much.

                He neatly stacked all of his notes together and placed them in his folder and crammed it in his already over stuffed backpack. He had a nice briefcase at one point, but the amount of paperwork that he had to cart around on a regular basis forced him to convert to a backpack. It felt like he was back in school. He slung the fifty pound sack on his back and walked back across the room. He checked his watch, 7:45pm. There was no time to see the grandma tonight. He flipped the switch and walked back into the hallway. He had to get back to the shrink and report on his findings.

                That was very unconventional, to team up with a psychologist. However, if he wanted to make sure that the creature that they had locked up downstairs was headed to death row, he had no other choice. They had to get rid of him. Even if it was the last thing they ever did. Mr. Brooks will never hurt anyone, ever again.

To Catch a Princess

               It was a hot summer day. The high of the day was one-oh-three according to the slut on the weather channel. But she was a lying whore. It had to be at least four-hundred degrees. I tucked my finger underneath the edge of my collared shirt. I had to look professional today. I glanced over at the black suit jacket that lay on the seat next to me: professional. I looked up at the rearview mirror. I had saved my head for the occasion and put on some self-tanner, colored contacts, face teeth, and of course, a body suit that made me look just a little bit heftier than I actually was. Texas was like hell. And I am Satan. Trapped in my pit. And you will be too, my love.

                I pulled the car around the block and followed the two girls down the street. My target. I had been following her for several weeks now. She didn’t know it though. That’s how I liked it. The surprise of the catch. The thrill of the case. My love is like a wild cat, baby: it’s coming to get you.

                I quickly reached over to my glove compartment and pulled out a travel sized bottle of lube and squeezed some on my right hand. I had to get ready. With my free hand, I quickly unzipped my black, dress slacks and pulled out my dick.

“Oh god, yes,” I moaned to myself as I watched the girls walk down the sidewalk.

                This was the life, I thought, as I covered my shaft and head with the lubricant and began to pump.

“Soon,” I chuckled. “Soon you will be mine, and I will be yours. Oh shit!”

                I was coming too soon! I had to calm down. I was going to ruin everything! Every, fucking thing! I had this planned out for weeks now. I had memorized her schedule, I know all of her friends, I know her enemies, and I know her heart. She is perfect. And I will find pleasure in the real artifact soon enough. I had to be patient. Patience is a virtue. So is lust. So is Love.

                The girl walking next to my love was playing on her phone. Her bright red hair was like a waterfall of brimstone, rippling down her back. She was beautiful, to say the least, but I didn’t want her. I wanted the girl who had occupied my thoughts for the past seven weeks, five days, three hours, 26 minutes and counting. She was the only thing that mattered to me. And today was the day my queen came home to her castle.

                They neared the school the girls attended. The local community college: a quaint place. It was a place for back to school moms and grandmas, high school drop outs, poor people, and the like. People trying to get a fresh start into the boring life of the “Nine to five”, weekends off, and paid vacations. They make me sick. What’s it going to matter in fifty years? One-hundred years? One-thousand? It won’t! They will get a piece of paper giving them a wider selection of people to boss them around.

They are sheep. No. They are like cows. Cows in need of the farmer. A farmer in need of a butcher. I am the butcher. But, I’ll convert to Hindi for that flower strutting down the sidewalk. She can be saved. Only her. Everyone else can burn. Well, she will eventually, and so will I. But that’s why I must save her. She must be saved from the back to school moms, authority, diplomas, cows, fire, and being just a face in a sea of faces. She is special. She is mine.

I put the car into park and watched them walk up the steps into the physical science building.  Her dark hair waved in the breeze. That’s a lie! There was no breeze. There is no breeze in Hell. Only me, and my lover, and the sinners that burn around us.

I had to wait for class to start. She was always early to class. Always. No exceptions. I had to wait. I looked down at the clock: 8:58. That’s plenty of waiting. I had to get her now. I didn’t think that my cock could handle the wait any more. I had to pee. I had to poop. I could feel the adrenolin jolt through my system as I slowly grabbed the key in the ignition.

I turned the key off, slipped my dick back into my pants, opened the door, grabbed the suit coat and stepped out of my car. Now was the time. I pulled the jacket on, adjusted the buckles on my shoes and began walking up the steps, following after my beloved. I made sure to step exactly where her precious feet had been just moments before. I reached the top of the steps and checked my watch, 9 o’clock. She would be just sliding into her seat at this moment. I had to recuse my princess from this dragon of a castle. She shouldn’t have to be here any longer. I will save her. I have to. I am Satan, and I spare whom I choose.

I pulled out the pair of blue latex gloves I kept in my pockets and slid them on my hands. Not that I think the police would be able to pull a print off of these disgusting knobs, but just a precaution. I don’t like door knobs anyway. I don’t personally have any at my house. I don’t see why they’re necessary. They are simply a hassle.

I quietly closed the door behind me as I entered the building. It was a small building that held the physics, astronomy, and geology lecture halls and labs. It was single floored, with the doors on the left hand side leading to the different lecture halls; and on the right, were the lab rooms. Shame, I wasn’t in a biology or chemistry lab, things could have been so much fun! All those sharp object, chemicals, and bones, it would have been a playground.

The building was old. The floors creaked as I walked across their tattered faces. The dust was still fresh in the air. Damn Mexicans. Cobwebs were decorating all the corners of the hall way, and the only sounds were those that echoed from down the hall, where the geology lab was located; probably, an equally old professor that was calling role.

I held my breath. Maybe I could hear him call out my beloved’s name! The suspense was almost too much.

I was beginning to regret to regret not ejaculating in the car before I came in. The pain had begun to increase with every step I took. I looked down at the present for my princess and my chest filled with pride. The best mother fucking cock in the whole world. I reached down and patted it. My pet. I whispered to it, “Not to worry, I will find you some fresh meat very soon.”

I neared the geology room door and quickly took of my blue gloves and stuffed them into my pockes, straitened my suit coat, and brushed off my britches. I had to look the part, or she wouldn’t take the bait. She had to take the bait. My tongue slid across the front of my teeth and stopped to stroke each of my canines. I was ready.

I let out a deep breath and shook my arms. I had to poop. I raised my hand and curled my fist and knocked hard on the door. This was it. Here I come, my love.

The Bars that Contain and Free Me

Cage.

I’m nothing but a caged animal to them.

Whores.

What do they want from me?

A show?

A parade?

A mother fucking, god damned circus!?

Whores!

I need deodorant.

The walls need paint.

Nobody likes white walls.

White walls are for middle class, stay at home, soccer moms.

Soccer moms who are fucking the post man part-time.

White.

White walls, white floor, white soccer moms, and their white lovers.

Pure.

Clean.

Lies.

White only stains so much faster.

Blood on snow.

Blood on a white dress.

Blood on a white body of the pretty girl next door.

Who’s fucking the post man.

Whores.

All of them.

I hate whore.

I love them.

I am one.

I am Satan!

I stood up from the bed and took a turn around the room.

Jane Austin-like.

She was white.

She also died.

Like a lot of people.

They are white and then they die.

I need some deodorant!

I walk over the bars of my circus bear cage.

Rawr!

I bang on the cage.

One of the clowns walk over to me, “What do you want?”

“Deodorant!” I scream back.

The man gives me a half smile, looks me over and says, “Too bad.”

I slam my hand against the bars.

Pain.

Pleasure.

They are the same.

They are mine.

I go back to pacing.

I feel the bruises on my wrists.

Blood.

Purple blood.

If only I could find the purple blood.

I love it.

Pleasure.

I walked over to the white walls.

Purple blood would be so beautiful on those walls.

The pure walls.

The church’s walls.

The blood of the Lamb on the white walls of the church that love him in the daylight, but then turn around in the darkness and worship me.

Satan.

Whores.

Desecrating the temple.

Selling their bodies on the streets for me, but giving the profit to God.

I want the money.

I want the people.

Come to the darkness my followers!

No one can see the filth, no one can see the sorrow, no one can see your troubles!

Just dance with me!

Dance with me in the dark!

The blind cannot judge.

There is only tolerance!

Give me the glory!
Give me the profit!

No strings attached!

I walked back over the “bed”.

More like a cot.

I pace over the far side of the cell and squat in the corner.

I need to find the blood.

The blood.

That will show them.

I make a tear in the fabric hiding the metal springs inside.

I slowly worked my way through the stuffing and pried out one of the precious articles.

I could feel the tremors start to crawl their way around my body.

Like scarabs, right under the skin.

I could feel their legs shuffle around underneath the surface.

Goosebumps rose up on my flesh as I slowly began to undress in the middle of the cell.

My clothes fell in a heap on the floor and the draft made the little hairs on my arms and neck stand strait up.

I uncoiled the spring and fashioned it for the most support.

I pressed my warm body against the cold wall.

“Come to me my followers,” I breathed. “Come and worship. Come and dance. Come and die.”

I pressed the sharp end of the spring to the top of my wrist, held my breath, and sliced into my white flesh.

I let out a shallow breath and pressed harder.

I could feel the adrenaline flush my body and I let out a moan.

I could feel my cock throbbing, pressed into the white wall.

I groaned as the metal tore through my skin.

I traced my forearm all the way down to my elbow.

The blood already encased my arm.

My eyes were held shut.

Fear.

What if it wasn’t purple?

It has to be.

I am Satan.

I ripped out the wire that was jammed in my flesh and dropped it on the floor.

With my eyes still shut I traced the cut with my fingertips.

I could see flashes of red underneath my eyelids as the cut screamed out to my touch.

I control the pain.

I pressed my four fingers against the cut.

I gasped as I could feel the precum eject from my hard on.

I shifted my hips around to smear it all over the wall and my abdomen.

I gritted my teeth and forced my fingers into the slit on my arm.

They curled and uncurled underneath my skin.

I began to shake as sweat began to bead up on my forehead and back.

I bit my lower lip.

They sank into the tender flesh and I could taste the salty liquid enter my mouth.

I laughed nervously and pulled my fingers out of my forearm.

I traced words across the white wall.

I am god.

Serve me.

Love me.

My muscles began to spasm and I fell onto the floor.

Blood filled my mouth and began to run down my throat. I traced my abdomen with the blood that was left on my fingers.

I was choking.

Shit.

They’re going to find me.

I shoved my fingers into my mouth and down my throat.

I’ve got to escape.

I have to leave.

They cant have me any longer!
My fingers crawled down my throat.

I gagged.

I leaned over on my side, away from the bars.

I threw up on the floor.

Eyes shut.

I’m Satan.

Love me.

Escape.

Blood.

Love.

Hate.

Pain.

Pleasure.

“OH my god! Mr.Brooks?! Help! Get a medic in here! Oh my god! The blood!”