Call Me.

Discussion in 'Writers Forum' started by geckopelli, Jun 6, 2004.

  1. geckopelli

    geckopelli Senior Member

    The first couple of pages of an occult psycho-sexual killer detective novel.
    NC-17

    CALL ME


    I. The Second Murder



    As always, the door stuck a little and Don stumbled his way into the empty dorm room. He was a little stoned, very drunk, and very, very horny. The girl behind him – Kim? – was very drunk, extremely stoned and, well, he’d know the rest shortly.

    The street light on the corner stood as tall as the room’s third floor window and cast an eerie glow though the glass. Don tuned and – Chris? – stumbled against him. He felt the firmness of her breast press upon him as her arms snaked clumsily around his neck. “Mmmmmm,” the girl mewed drunkenly as she tilted her head back waiting for his kiss. She tasted of strawberries and wine as he slid his tongue between her parted lips.
    As the kiss ended, Don became aware of a sweet, pungent smell. The girl freed herself from his embrace and clumsily unbuttoned his shirt, mumbling incoherently in a drunken slur. She began to kiss her way down his chest, her lips brushing the solid circle of crystal that dangled from a heavy chain about his neck.
    The strange scent continued to grow in intensity and Don swept the small room with his inebriated vision. Was there a fire? He must’ve verbalized the thought, for by way of an answer the girl roughly unbuckled his belt and dropped to her knees. “I’ll show you a fire, Baby,” she said, as she buried her face in his crouch, taking his quickly growing member between her lusting lips.

    Oblivious to the girl’s advance, Don’s perception focused on the unearthly aroma. It was something about the other night – or was it last night? An incense. A women. He had experienced the greatest sex of his 22 year-old life that night. Why, he had –

    Suddenly it was all so clear.

    With a grip bordering on vicious, he grabbed the girl’s head and aggressively began pumping his erection into her fervently hot orifice. Take aback by his sudden brutality, she attempted to retreat, but he would have none of it.

    The incense smell was beginning to invade his other senses. Don could taste it, feel the heat of the burning coal. The bluish smoke of an unseen fire engulfed him.

    He disengaged from the girl and, with the strength of a madman, jerked her to her feet. For the length of a heart beat, Don devoured the mixture of fear and desire in her eyes.
    He kissed her hard and threw her on the bed. His savage passion had begun to infect her and she squirmed to pull her skirt above her waist. “Come on,” she moaned, “show me what you got.”
    For Don alone the room was now awash in a scented blue haze. He felt it seeping through the pores of his skin, entering his nostrils to sear his lungs and burn his eyes. Abstractly, he was aware that he had positioned his pelvis between her open and eager thighs. As he entered her, he lost himself in the smoke, the smell, the heat.

    He remembered completely now, the woman from last night. Her eyes had burned though his soul like fire, eyes of a blue iciness the likes of which he had never seen. He saw her face twisted in cruel passion, demanding, commanding, and his body knew what it must do.

    The knife was ready. He pulled it from its hiding place under the headboard. Through the smoky haze he saw it in his hand. The blade was long and thin, the handle an intricate carving of a man and woman entwined in sexual union.

    Dimly, as if watching from a distant precipice, he felt the girl beneath him as her vagina contracted and her body shook with orgasm. As he began to ejaculate, he saw, superimposed upon the girls writhing body, a shadow of fiery blue. At that instant his own orgasm blotted out all sensation, excepting the warm flow that encompassed his hand.

    He didn’t even hear her scream.



    Not faraway a beautiful young woman knelt naked, head down, eyes closed, before an altar of stone, a twelve-pointed star of crystal dangling from a heavy chain around her neck. Atop the stone altar sat a larger version of the twelve-pointed star, flanked on either side by smoldering cones with an incense-like quality. As the cones burned, the room filled with a bluish haze, possessing a sweet yet pungent scent. The women raised her head and gazed into the crystalline surface of the star-idol, her eyes burning with an unearthly, icy blue flame. At precisely the proper instant, her mouth opened to emit a primordial scream of pain and pleasure, but mostly of triumph.



    Xxxxxx





     
  2. MattInVegas

    MattInVegas John Denver Mega-Fan

    Woah! Dude. Is THAT yours???? GOD I hope so! You've earned it!
     
  3. veinglory

    veinglory Member

    I think you write clearly enough, but the subject is approaching a modern cliche?
     
  4. geckopelli

    geckopelli Senior Member

    We'll see...

    It won't be written in a conventional manner.
     

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