Whispers - Volume 2: A Second Collection

by Stuart Keane

  Both girls were giggling needlessly.

  "Make yourself at home, ladies."

  Melanie lowered her rump onto the leather sofa beside Hunter, who was still setting fire to his hairs. She leaned in and watched him with curious abandon. Hunter glanced at her and smiled. "Why are you burning yourself?" she mused.

  Geist interjected, "Hunter’s a bit of a pussy, the depressive type, you know? Would slit his wrists sooner than face the world's problems." Geist smiled and walked across the carpet.

  "Fuck you, Geist." Hunter passed the Zippo from hand to hand and turned his attention to Melanie. "No reason, I get a bit bored. The gig didn’t go as well as I hoped. This helps me relax."

  "Does it hurt?" The woman ran a smooth, soft hand along his forearm. Her touch was electric.

  Hunter snorted. "Nope, it'll take a lot more than that to hurt me."

  Melanie laughed, a fake laugh saved for trying to impress someone. Her hand slapped his forearm and came to rest on his shoulder. She stared at Hunter, her eyes alluring. "Your forearms are solid. Is that from drumming or … other activity?"

  "Both. I work out as well." Hunter nodded, trying to sound tough.

  "That he does, Hunter's a proper gym-rat." Geist opened the bar.

  "True, the guy loves his weights." Lobes, arm across his eyes, lazily contributed to the conversation. He shuffled deeper into his bed.

  Hunter smiled, and continued. "Gotta keep the arms in shape. The drums don’t play themselves. I put a few hours in a day, gigs permitting."

  "I bet you do." Melanie licked her lips and gazed down at Hunter's crotch. "Oh, I bet you do."

  Hunter looked at Melanie, slightly confused. "Anyway, I burn myself if a gig didn’t go too well. Just a habit I have." He slid the Zippo into his pocket and swivelled his body towards Melanie.

  "Really? I thought the gig was amazing. You were … amazing."

  Melanie ran a playful finger down her chest, catching her top and lowering it slightly, almost exposing her fake breasts. Hunter's eyes lowered and caught an eyeful of her ample cleavage. He felt a warm bulge beneath his jeans. Melanie locked eyes with him and brushed his lips with hers, ever so lightly. Her lips moved to her earlobe. "We could be … amazing." Her breath smelt like Parma Violets.

  Reign scooted around the room to sit next to Zhang. She closed her legs and started rubbing her knees. "What's that you have there?"

  "This is my Ibanez, one of three actually. I'm just making sure she's tuned and clean. She's my favourite one, though. Can never be too prepared."

  "Prepared for what?" Reign asked, oblivious to the craft of a musician.

  "I practice for hours every day. A guitarist is only as good as his skill and his axe. You have to maintain your instruments."

  "Zhang here is the best of the best. I've never seen such a small guy manhandle an axe with such finesse and poise." Geist poured himself a shot of Jack and swallowed it in one. It torched his throat. "Man, that’s the stuff."

  Zhang brushed a speck of dust from the red body of the guitar. A sense of pride warmed his heart. Reign looked at the guitar, expecting it to turn into an iPad or something. "Does it take you long to practice? Did it take you long to learn?"

  Zhang laughed. "Yes and yes. I'm still learning to this very day and I've been playing for over twenty years."

  Reign's eyes closed slightly, tinted with disbelief. "No way. You're not that old."

  "I am, not old, but not young anymore either."

  "Oh. Doesn’t matter. I prefer older men. They usually have better cocks."

  Geist spat Jack from his mouth. "Reign's certainly a feisty one, isn't she?"

  Lobes didn’t move his arm. "Yes, indeed."

  Zhang's eyes locked onto Reign's. He marvelled at the glorious aqua blue pools. His words were lost as Reign leaned in close. "What's your favourite?"

  "My favourite what?" Zhang countered.

  "Oh, I don’t know, let's say your favourite … hobby."

  "It's pretty obvious, but I would say music." What the fuck is this chick on?

  "What about your favourite … food?" Reign opened her legs slightly. Her breathing became heavier. Her eyes seemed glossy and focused.

  "Noodle soup. Cliché, I know." Zhang held a hand out as if to say: I'm Chinese so it's obvious. Reign completely missed the point of the gesture, much to Zhang's chagrin. Reign then leaned forward, inches from Zhang's face.

  "For tonight, I thought I could be your favourite … I mean, I didn’t wear any underwear for a reason and sitting here, damp and moist, well … it'll drive a girl crazy." Zhang's eyes widened. He suddenly didn’t seem interested in the guitar anymore.

  Reign opened her legs. The denim crotch of her shorts barely hid her excitement.

  Geist smiled. He downed another shot of Jack. "Can I get you ladies a drink?"

  Melanie tore her eyes away from Hunter for a second. Her hand stroked his crotch. "You got any Jack?"

  Geist laughed. "Does the bear shit in the fucking woods? Yeah, we have Jack and Jim and Johnny and some other lesser-known fellows. Pick your poison." He stepped to an alcove in the corner and sorted some bottles. He removed six glasses and a bottle of Jack.

  "Who else wants some?" He looked at his companions but none of them looked in his direction. Lobes shook his head. "None for me. I need some fucking Z's."

  Hunter nodded. Melanie turned to him with a twinkle in her eye, a mischievous look of lust. Hunter said nothing before her hand reached for his zipper and released him. Melanie took Hunter in her hands and started to stroke. Her head lowered and he slipped into her mouth, warm, moist, and throbbing. Hunter gasped and placed his hands on the back of her head. His fingers slid into her black hair and gripped. She moaned and sucked beneath his palms.

  Geist smiled. "There you go, make yourself at home." He started to pour the amber liquid into the glasses, humming as he did so.

  Reign straddled Zhang, pushing his guitar aside. Expertly, she undid his zipper, released him, slid her damp shorts aside and impaled herself slowly. She gasped loudly as he entered her easily, smiling down at him. Zhang looked up, his view engulfed by her huge breasts. She started riding him slowly, grinding onto him, causing the leather to squeak beneath the weight.

  Lobe laughed and turned over on his bunk. "Night, fellas, have fun." He turned the light switch off and pulled the small curtains that hung at the edge of his bed. It wouldn’t block out the noise but he was so tired he didn’t see it as an issue.

  Reign moaned as she thrust down. Zhang held her hips, guiding her. Melanie was bobbing faster now as Hunter's back stiffened. Geist turned around and looked at his bandmates. "Looks like we have an orgy here. Happy times."

  Melanie looked up, thumbing her bottom lip. Hunter, betrayed by the tease of an unfinished orgasm, stared at her. Melanie licked her finger. "Why don’t you pull my chain?" Hunter looked down, saw the chain hanging from beneath her skirt and smiled. Melanie spat into her hand and started stroking him again. "You might enjoy the result."

  Hunter leaned forward. "Alright."

  Reign looked around, still thrusting down on Zhang. Her cheeks and chest were red from exertion and a kinky grin separated her lush, black lips. "Oh God … It'll drive her crazy … mmmm … Hunter. You're a lucky man." Reign turned around and laughed. "I can't believe I'm fucking the guitarist from Bethesda. I'm going to cum so hard." Reign was moaning louder now. "Fuck me!"

  Hunter smirked and fondled the dainty chain, pushing it, watching Melanie react. It hung between her thighs, its destination unseen but sexually obvious. He took it between two fingers and pulled gently. Melanie moaned. "My God … do that again, you have no idea how wet I am."

  "It'll only get worse." Hunter's eyes suddenly became cold.

  He yanked the chain hard.

  The metal tore Melanie's clitoris in half, making her scream in agony. Her body leapt back in pain, shaking and flopping onto the sofa as white-hot fire burned through her stomach, possessing her. Blood started to dr
ip onto the carpet. As Melanie squealed and climbed backwards over the sofa, slapping the leather with spastic arms, the blood spattered the leather loudly. It started to pour, mixing with the urine now flowing down her leg.

  Hunter smiled. "See, told you." He jumped on top of her and punched Melanie in the face. Her skull cracked with the impact. A low moan of terror escaped her lips. "Now it's my turn to get some proper head." Hunter punched her again and wrapped his hands around the top of her skull, squeezing. A hard crack vibrated through his hands. Blood sluiced from beneath his fingers. Her eye dislodged and slipped out of its socket.

  Disturbed by the outburst, Reign tried to spin around. "Melanie, Melanie! What the fuck are you doing?" She tried to climb off Zhang, his cock still deep inside her. Zhang held on. "Not yet, I'm almost done, just another few seconds."

  Reign turned back to the Chinese man. "Get off me, you fuck, let me go. Now!"

  "Just a second." The evil that flashed in Zhang's eyes froze Reign to her very soul. A sinister leer replaced the orgasmic grin on his face. Reign paused for too long.

  Zhang lunged forward and bit, tearing a chunk of flesh from Reign's slippery neck. Skin and muscle ripped, sinew shredded and blood sprayed into his mouth, gushing down his throat.

  He punched Reign in the ribs, winding her, and threw her limp body onto the floor. He chewed the sliver of skin and muscle between his teeth. "You taste good, honey … now let's get to the good stuff." He lifted her up and slammed her down on the coffee table; her head clipped the edge and snapped with a sickening crack. Surprisingly, she still moved, drool hanging from her bloody lips.

  Zhang punched Reign in the face, knocking her out. He twisted her eyebrow and tore the metal from her battered face. Geist walked over and handed a glass of Jack to Zhang. Zhang nodded and downed it in one. The amber burned a trail down his throat. He glanced at Geist. "Your turn." He stepped aside.

  Hunter stood up in the background, his mouth coated in blood. He was chewing on a clump of spongy, pink cerebral tissue. "Man, you gotta try this. Whore brains really are the best." Hunter continued chewing; his visage smothered in dark blood and skull fragments.

  Geist smiled. "Enjoy, Hunter." He turned to Zhang. "Thank you. I'm a patient man but … well, I have my limits." He hunched down to the ground and looked at Reign. Blood was pumping across her half exposed breasts, painting her a dark shade of red. Her eyes were dazed, half-open and foggy. The gash in the top of her skull was bleeding heavily. A small pool was forming below her. Geist smiled. "Told you I was starving."

  In the bunk, Lobes smiled. "You did indeed."

  With that, he fell asleep.

  Geist was flicking through Reign's phone. Every now and then, his thumb would scroll the photos across. Various reactions crossed his face as he observed the photos. "I'll tell you what, Melanie was a filthy whore. There's hundreds of photos of her tits, her arse. There's even one of her clit before Hunter ruined it. Look!"

  He aimed the phone at Zhang, who nodded. His mouth was full of noodle soup. He was sitting on the leather sofa. Geist moved the phone away and showed it to Hunter. He was lifting weights behind the sofa and his skin glistened with sweat. "Nice. It was great pussy too."

  "Shame you didn’t share any with us."

  "Get your own. Besides, you all messed Reign up pretty good. I never saw innards so attractive in all my life. Shame we had to dump the bodies really." Hunter breathed heavily.

  Geist nodded. Zhang swallowed his food and spoke. "We can't arrive in Brighton with a couple of corpses. Some might say it's suspicious. We didn’t become famous and rich by broadcasting our secretive little habits."

  "You’re right there, Zhang. Besides, Hunter got to keep a souvenir."

  Hunter beamed. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a bloody sac of silicone. "I never took a right tit before. For some reason I always ended up with a lefty."

  "You look a right tit for taking it." Zhang laughed, his humour lost on the other group members. Geist fake-grinned. Hunter rolled his eyes.

  "What the fuck, man!"

  Everyone looked at the bunks, where Lobes had emerged. "What's up, Lobes?"

  The bassist stood by his bunk, a frustrated look on his face. "I understand your need for bloodshed guys, I really do. But seriously, did you need to get blood on my fucking curtains."

  Silence.

  Then everyone laughed, hard and loud. After a second, Lobes joined in, the laughter infectious. The band united in joy. Lobes wiped tears from his eyes and sat down with his friends. He selected a croissant from the table in the centre. He could smell bleach and disinfectant. "You guys cleaned up already?"

  "Yep, we'll be in Brighton in an hour."

  "Did José stop somewhere over night?" Lobes shoved a hand into his mangled blond mane.

  José was the bus driver. He no longer had a tongue in his head, courtesy of Geist. A few years back, Geist had torn it out, served it rare, with shallots and red wine reduction, and eaten it in front of José. To prove a point.

  When you're the hired help, you don’t speak back to your employer.

  He was the best-paid bus driver in the world but he couldn’t talk about it. He never left their side either; even at the gigs he came backstage with them. Handy, considering their favourite pastime. Besides the band, he was the only one who knew of their carnal activity. Truth be told; José was petrified and after his initial warning, never crossed Geist again.

  "Yep, he stopped at the A23 services. We chucked Melanie and Reign in a dumpster behind McDonalds before we left. It wasn’t a twenty-four hour place so we're safe for a bit. No one was there; the place was a ghost town at three in the morning. I checked for cameras too, we're home free."

  Lobes nodded. "Good. This close to the end, the last thing we need is to get caught." He tore a chunk of croissant and placed it in his mouth.

  Geist laughed. "Don’t worry, my Swedish friend, no one will catch us and when they do, it'll be too late."

  Hunter and Zhang looked up and laughed. Hunter was rolling the silicone up and down his cheek. A small smear of blood stretched from his eyelid to his mouth. Lobe cringed. "Hunter, you could've washed it first."

  "I like the smell of the blood, so fucking sue me."

  Silence descended on the bus. The roads crawled along beneath them, a constant drone in the background. Zhang finished his noodle soup.

  Geist looked at his fellow band members and paused for a second. "You guys are clear about the swan song, right? After Brighton, it's Reading … the moment of truth."

  Lobes looked up and nodded. Hunter flopped down on the sofa opposite and stuck a thumb up. Zhang didn’t do anything but sat there, looking at the singer.

  "Good. Then we're all set."

  "Ladies and gentlemen, my name is James McAteer. Tonight, I bring you live coverage from Richfield Avenue. The Reading Festival is the biggest music festival in the UK, taking place on the August Bank Holiday weekend. Every year, thousands of fans flock to see many a band across various stages. There's something for everyone. Metal, hip-hop, indie, alternative, rock, pop, country and even some jazz on occasion. The three-day festival, the oldest music festival in the world, sees eighty-seven thousand plus fans every year, making it a must on most music fans’ calendars. This is going to be a hell of a show for one reason.

  "Bethesda are this year's headliners.

  "That’s right, the legendary metal rockers who some dub better then Sabbath and Maiden are bowing out in style as headliners of the Reading Festival. This event is exclusive to Reading only, Leeds ticket buyers will be disappointed to learn. I'll be reporting stage-side for the entirety of their performance. You don’t want to miss this.

  "Tickets are sold out and as fans can tell you; this will be a hell of a show."

  "Smell that, you know what that is? Pure shit."

  "It's fucking putrid. I mean, I know we like slithering around in a whore's entrails but some humans are fucking disgusting."

  Lobes and Geist were sta
nding outside of the toilet stall. Disguised in hoodies and shades, despite the summer heat, the band members were revolted by the state of the toilets. Shit and piss, sodden tissues and used condoms overflowed from the holes in the wooden platforms, sloshing and dripping onto the cubicle floors inches from where they stood.

  Yet, people were still walking into the cubicles, aiming with the panache of a blind Tourette's sufferer and making even more mess. Disgusting. The stench of stale urine stung the nostrils.

  They turned and walked back to the staging area, away from the public.

  Along the way, armies of inebriated, stoned people were mulling around, bumping into one another, falling over and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Several carried crates of lager. One or two grasped a joint between their lips, smoking away, oblivious to the crime they were committing. One man shouted "Timmmay!" at the top of his lungs. Several other strangers repeated it and the word spread like wildfire.

  "You know, when I see the human condition in this state, I don’t feel bad for the swan song. I think we're doing them a favour."

  "I hear ya," Geist said. "Let's do this."

  From behind the black curtain, Lobes saw eighty-seven thousand plus fans waiting and screaming. Being the headline act meant no other stages were currently active throughout the festival. Anyone who now attended Reading was now waiting for Bethesda. Lobes smiled.

  This is the dream. Mere moments away now.

  Lobes turned around. The souvenir silicone breast in Hunter's hand slapped him in the cheek. He didn’t flinch. Lobes expected something like this. Hunter was a stickler for weird pre-gig rituals. At least this time it wasn't piss or jizz. Several times, it had been.

  "This is it, guys, the big one. We were born to do this. Are you ready?"

  The band members put their hands in and all silently chanted something under their breath. When they divided, they looked at one another. Geist spoke first. "It's been a privilege, guys, make it count out there. This is our last show. Let's tear the house down."