Thursday, July 19, 2012

Tommy: Game of Hangman Part III

                          Tommy: Game of Hangman: part III


                                     Continued from Part II.


          “Just open that door, “ she said, going for the 1-0-0 tip Tommy held to her. ‘Have a nice stay.”

           Reaching for doorknob, feeling life course his veins in ways unknown to him, wasted, yet feeling more alive than ever.

           Taking hold, hearing Kiss Alive 2’s Detroit Rock City echoing furiously.

                  He opens another door…


            Stepping into near darkness as he faces a jet black wall. Lost in darkness as the door slams solidly behind him. Standing there, pupils attempting to adjust, Kiss blasting louder, feeling Genes bass riffs pound against his chest and head.

          His nose catches the strong scent of Channel #5 as a firm, slender fingered hand takes his right arm and pulls violently, guiding him.

       Whoa, what the fuck?

         Flashing brilliant light blasts directly at him, causing him to falter backward as his eyes feel on the verge of blowing their sockets. Another hand grabs his left arm to steady him.

        Eyes gaining focus, he was walked toward a bar like he had never seen before.

        Thirty foot long, deep mahogany colours bordered in five foot sections with blood red femur, tibia, fibula and humerus bones to accent it. Gas lit bluish flames ascending from shiny bronze tubes with skeletal hands holding the flame pots which were grounded by pelvic bone bases. Behind the bar were shelves ten feet in length, three layers high bordering the carnival mirror in the center on both sides with no liquor repeated with every style and brand known to mankind. Substances illegal in many countries, some in this country, and deadliest of moonshine from Kentucky, West Virginia and Tennessee. Crowning the massive array of alcohol was the fourth shelf. It spot lighted over 1000 beers from across the world.

         Above all that was their mission statement: What ever you ask for, you will receive. What ever your desire, we will fulfill. What you see is what you get, so be careful what you ask for. We wish to please you and your evilest of black thoughts. WELCOME TO HELL!

      “What please you, sir?” a gaunt pale man with deeply recessed eye sockets inquired with both confidence and raspy tone. Dressed in ill-fitting attire: fabric haphazardly tossed over him like thrift store clothing over a scarecrow.

        Got any coke?

       “Of course, sir. We always have that!” Leaning back from Tommy, opening a door below the bar, lift with the scrawniest of hands, producing a bowl brimming with white powder. Thinnest of lips parting, decaying teeth moving: “Suit yourself, sir. Here, there are no limits!”

       Eyes like that of a vagina spreading beyond reach to give birth, Tommy reaches into his pocket to tip the ThinMan.

         “Not at all, sir! Cannot accept with humblest of gratitude’s. Offense not intended, kind sir. We do things differently here and appreciate your patronage!” Ambling off stage left, taking two bottles and a syringe in hand, he treats a regular in the highest of professional manner.

          Shit. Damn. Scar-facing it, he buries his head and inhales.

         BOOM! BANG! Thudding of heart and exploding in thought, senses scream toward pinpoint clarity. Lifting head, seeing face in the carnival glass from the back bar, all is clear.

        Tommy takes a walk from the sickest of majestic styling’s for a bar, toward Hells dance floor. Heavy Techno sounds of Orbital copulating with lasers, floods and churning colours of many shades clouded by dry ice plumes as shapes of semi and fully nude forms passionately move about.

        At closer scrutiny, he sees that many are bleeding, under lit floor turning reds to blacks as pools grow denser every second.

       YOU! Tommy yells at a tanned average looking brunette holding a straight razor with chubby left hand. I WANT YOU! Face tightening, veins standing thick in his neck. Ridged stance striking cocky pose, head cocked to the right.

        “Take me then, “ gasping, hurling her body at Tommy. Flabby breasts heaving down, dark aureoles aiming toward bloodied dance floor. Barely able to see, yet smelling his Freshman status here, she locks in on him.

        He, unchanging in movement, greets her. Grabbing her right breast strongly, his right arm pulls her to him: You gonna make me feel? You gonna make me go elsewhere? You gonna make me?

       Smiling inches from his face, she plants her lips to his as her free hand grabs the back of his head. Smashing face to face as she digs heal of hand pulling hair on his head, drawing him violently inward. Teeth connect with teeth as they chew on one another, saliva faintly mixing with the taste of iron.

        Moving his fingers to her nipple, he fiercely begins to yank as clamps tighter.

        Moaning greatly, her eyes open to meet his, grabbing his shirt, tearing it from him in one deft movement. Expectations high, free hand goes toward the fly of Levi’s.

       Feeling unwanted hand grabbing at him, thrusting in reverse, his right open hand smacks her fully to left side of her head. Tommy’s head turns to his right, eyes never leaving hers. DID I ASK YOU TO DO THAT?

       Redness flaring on impacted area, causing obscure gradients of light as Hells arena radiates Slowly coursing back, she begins to smile at him. Nipples filling to complete erect splendor, she says with a voice of deep throaty desire: “Oh! You so belong here. Welcome home, Tommy!” She slowly reaches down to hips and slowly removes spandex pants.

      Two black clad men push past Tommy in hurried fashion. Watching, Tommy’s head turn to his left. The men scoop a broken woman face down on the floor not far from him.

       Gaunt bartender hands him an absinthe, fire burning atop. He disappears as quickly as arrived.

       Blowing at flame, killing it, tossing head back, he swallows fully.

        Mixing with cruising coke in body, nailing him firmly. Equilibrium. Head cleared momentarily. Tracking muscled men holding trashed female walking off, he begins to walk, telling the brunette to hold fast.

       I’ll be back for you, she hears as her heart pounds soundly, knowing he’d return to her. He’ll return, he’ll return different for sure…

        From about twenty paces behind, following, he trails the men dragging limp female in tow.

       “Slam me, bro! Fuckin’ slam me, man!” some wasted dude sporting a Dokken jersey spat at him.

        One blow given. Tommy felt this assholes nose crunch behind left fist guided surely. Dokken dude drops as cartilage nails brain. Soon dead, eyes rolling up in drugged ecstasy, life leaving, “m-m-man, that wwwwwuuuuz, grea…….”

     Steadily forward, giving no glance behind, head held high, feet steady, moving.

      Men in black push through a wide doorway, sans knob, merely an invisible panel on endless black wall.

       Reaching it, Tommy pushes. Opening freely he is met by a bent over male with large tumor covering his back and neck. “Sir, do you wish to go here?”

      Yes, he grunts as this shattered man.

      “Very Well SIR! Enjoy…”

       This voice echoes down cinder narrow block hallway with dripping iron pipes, some spraying white shots of hissing steam.


       The two men stop, dropping body to the floor creating a flat splat sound on the wet brick floor. Man to the left of the body opens iron and steps away swiftly just before flames rush out to quickly recede.

        Lifting lifeless female body, both push her toward the open hearth than backward several times. ‘Time to feed the boiler.”

       “One, two….THREE.” They toss her into waiting fire.

         Closer iron door, man to the right sees Tommy standing, staring, amazed.

      “Hope this pleased you, sir.”

       They walk past him, grinning, twin gazes of devils own.

       Tommy blankly approaches iron door and opens hit.

        Hearing hisses as body fluid evaporates, smell of burning hair with fat cooking. Burning.

       Steam. Give me steam.

       Dazed eyes, excited, his footfalls splash down the center of the hallway, quietly echoing softly against sporadic blasts of steam escaping.

       Reaching clearly marked doorway leading him back, passing though, back to the dance floor.

       She is waiting for him, totally naked, dark pubic hair above shapely legs trembling with desire. Eager, hungry eyes, goose pimples covering hairless arms. Wanting him.

       I’m back. You don’t look surprised at all.

      “Fuck me! Rape me!”

        I shall, bitch.

       “Impregnate me!” speaking more quickly with each syllable.

       No Rubbers then. Yes! Are you bleeding down there?

       “Yes. Oh, Yes!”

         He releases a low growling sound.

       Seeing crimson stripes down her inner thighs, he throws her down to the floor.

          Loving this, smile rising high in her face as she hits hard.

        Taking his pants and underwear off, he kiss her breasts and moves slowly toward her crotch.

      He begins to such on her vagina, sweat crossing brow. She watches the colours of Hell paint pretty pictures across him.

        “I ask but one thing, Master.”

        Left his bloody face from her snatch: And what’s that?

       “ Please. Oh please,” reaching orgasm. “Please don’t take me back there.”

       I won’t. Just do as I say.




                                  End of part III

                    Mark William Darus 07192012

          Authors Note: Fuck! At no point did I think this would go on as long as it has.

           For Christs sake, this is based on an email sent that seemed short to me in length. In my sincere attempts to do what was asked of me this is going way further than I expected. This is labor, born not of love, but trying to write it correctly.

          I wanted to finish this tonight.

         No chance in hell. On to part IV.