All day at work the next day, my thoughts jumped back and forth between my minor success with the PCP, to my new “friend” Sissy. I didn’t know which one excited me more. That’s when I heard about the police finding the bodies in the empty lot. They were now on the hunt for a serial killer. I knew that there would be no way they’d understand what I was trying to do. I had to stop for a while. But that didn’t mean I had to stop seeing Sissy.
I walked her to the club that night and the night after that, and the night after that. She told me all about how she was working her way through culinary school, and how she wanted to move to Paris to study French cuisine and become a famous pastry chef in some world renowned restaurant. I listened intently, but told her nothing about myself. She wouldn’t understand my ambitions.
I didn’t feel so alone when I was with Sissy, but afterwards, when I’d go home, the walls would start closing in on me again. The entire house would collapse inward, entombing me, crushing me with the profound weight of my isolation, sealing me alone in the desolate crypt of my own rapidly fragmenting mind. My mother, my grandmother, and my father, or rather their mournful, formless, ghosts, would creep and slither down the halls, haunting me. But every time I’d dash out of my bedroom to catch them at it, they would disappear. All I wanted was someone to hold me, someone to talk with me. But they were gone, and their memories were no comfort, even though I’d managed to filter out all the bad memories. A memory didn’t hold you in its arms on cold lonely nights. Then, of course, neither had Mom or Dad.
Sissy and I were getting closer. She even came over to my house once, and I ordered pizza and rented a horror movie: “The Serpent and the Rainbow.” That’s where I got the idea. The movie was all about a Haitian voodoo priest who turned people into zombies. The movie seemed to suggest that it was, in fact, medically possible. There was some drug that the voodoo priests used that could do it. The next day I went to the library and looked up every book I could on the subject. I ditched work to do it; which was probably good since they’d come across my PCP purchase the day before while processing invoices, and were conducting a minor investigation to find out who had ordered the drugs, and where they had gone. I knew they’d eventually find out it was me.
I had been at the library for six hours, when I finally came across a reference to a poison found in blowfish, which was believed to be one of the key ingredients in the witch doctor’s zombie potion. An hour later, I’d not only isolated the name of the poison (Tetrodotoxin) but I’d found a local exotic pet store that just happened to have a blowfish. Unfortunately, the fish cost two hundred dollars, and I had just received a notice from Pacific Power warning me that they would shut off my gas and electric if I didn’t pay the bill soon. Sissy had started talking more and more about leaving for Paris to become a pastry chef. I was in a panic over the thought of losing her. I decided I could live in the dark for a while. I bought the fish.
The problem was that none of the books I’d found contained the exact formula for processing the blowfish poison into zombie potion. I had found references to hemlock, nightshade, and even wolfsbane, along with various other herbs. But none of the books had the complete formula. I bought every herb even remotely mentioned, and mixed them together with the Tetrodotoxin. I still wasn’t sure I had it right. With so many deadly poisons, I was nervous that I might accidentally kill Sissy, but I couldn’t risk another experiment with the cops out looking for me. I decided to mix the Tetrodotoxin potion with the PCP. Just to be certain I blessed the concoction with an old voodoo spell I found in an encyclopedia of magic spells. I was desperate. That night I invited Sissy over.
She was wearing sweat pants and a T-shirt again. She never dressed sexy outside of work. We watched TV and she told me about her boyfriend. I’d never thought to ask her if she had one. She said that he promised to help her put together enough money to go to Paris. My eyes started to tear up. I was about to lose her. I couldn’t let that happen. I excused myself and went into the bathroom to get the chloroform. I took off one of my sweatsocks and soaked it in the chloroform. I couldn’t bare the thought of losing her.
I walked back into the living room, and watched Sissy’s smile turn upside down as she saw the look in my eye and smelled the chloroform. I had it clamped over her mouth before she could put up much of a struggle. The rest of it went like clockwork . . . almost.
I drilled the hole through her temple and poured my zombie potion directly onto her frontal lobe. There were no convulsions, no shrill cries of pain, nothing. I waited. I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. A zombie of my very own, to keep forever! I poured more of the potion in and waited some more. I felt her pulse and listened to her heart. All of my dreams came crashing to earth in a fiery heap, as they both ticked slowly down to a standstill. Sissy was dead. I began to cry. I had fucked up. Now I would be alone forever! I hugged her to me and ran my fingers through her hair, cooing my soft apologies, and declarations of love, into her ear. Then I dragged her outside to bury her in the backyard.
It took three hours to get the hole deep enough. The ground in Las Vegas is as hard as concrete and filled with rocks. My back and shoulders were on fire with a white-hot agony, but I barely noticed them through the soul numbing pain in my heart. It felt like a scalding hot, thousand pound stone was searing in my chest and weighting me down. I wanted to throw myself into the grave with her. The exhaustion and profound depression seemed to be pulling me down toward the soft earth, but I resisted. There was always tomorrow. I could try again. I had to. I had killed the only friend I’d ever had, and I couldn’t bring her back. I had to find a way to make the potion work. I couldn’t be alone again.
I dragged Sissy over and dumped her into the ditch, just as the full moon poked its way through the trees, illuminating Sissy’s sweet, and innocent, face one last time. It took less than twenty minutes to fill up the hole. Ten minutes after that I was back in the house with the ceiling crushing down on me, stifling my breath.
I fell asleep curled into a fetal position on the living room couch. I awoke to the feeling of strong hands, with sharp fingernails, squeezing my esophagus shut. When I opened my eyes I was looking into two dark cavernous pits . . . Sissy’s cold, dead, stare. Her pupils had widened so that her irises were no longer visible. She was covered with dirt from her makeshift grave. I tried not to think of what it must’ve taken for her to pull herself out of the earth. She looked terrible. Her mouth hung open, with her tongue lolling out. She was clearly still dead. Nonetheless she was choking me.
I reached out and grasped both of her wrists to pull her off of me. She growled low and throaty when she felt my touch, then bent down and bit into my forearm, tearing free a great piece of my extensor muscle, chewing it, and swallowing with a sickening gulp. I screamed and withdrew both my hands. Right then I knew that mixing the blowfish poison with the PCP had been a mistake.
My lacerated arm sprayed rich, dark, arterial blood all over her. She grinned ghastfully; a smile streaked with gore. Dark purple veins exploded beneath Sissy’s skin, marring her perfect, snow-white complexion, with a profusion of dark bruises and thick vericose veins. Not a glimmer of intelligence showed in her dead eyes and vacuous expression. This horrific mockery of life was not Sissy. It was little more than a shambling puppet manufactured of Sissy’s flesh; only slightly more than the corpse she had been an hour ago . . . only now she was choking the life out of me.
My own terror at my creation was restricting my breathing even further. I had almost passed out when her grip suddenly slackened. Sissy doubled over and began to vomit up blood and what looked like organs and her entire intestinal track. Her body was now merely a shell. When she sat back up, blood and saliva drooled down the front of her T-shirt. She swayed unsteadily, as if whatever horrible life I had animated her with would abandon her and she would topple over. Then she steadied herself, and her dark, lifeless, eyes turned toward me. From deep within them, I saw a faint spark, and then a hungry gleam came into her
eyes, and she bent down like she was going to kiss me. I was so happy to see her alive, that I ignored her rancid breath. I let, her now thick and uncoordinated tongue, intrude into my mouth, tasting blood and vomit and trying not to retch.
There was a sudden sharp pain in my mouth. Sissy pulled her head back, and there was a wet ripping sound that sent a shock wave of agony through my entire face. I looked up to see my tongue, and what seemed to be my bottom lip, clenched between her teeth. She quickly swallowed this too, and bent back down to feed. I screamed my throat raw; knowing that no one would come to my aid, just as no one had come to help the women whose lives I had destroyed. I tried to fight her off, but her strength was tremendous. I’d heard that PCP increased the adrenaline flow often giving the user phenomenal strength to accompany the psychotic delusions the drug inspired.
I was helpless, as she slowly began to consume my entire face. I felt her crunch through the cartilage of my nose. There was a sickening rip and pop, as she tore it from my face and greedily consumed it. Again I tried to free myself from her, but both of my wrists were pinned in her hard unyielding grip.
Somehow I maintained consciousness, as bite after bite of my face went down her throat. I could feel her cold, clammy, tongue slather across my teeth, as she bit through my cheeks and slowly chewed them away. Soon my head was little more than a skull with a few bits of flesh tenuously clinging to it. I watched as she bent down and rent my upper lip from my gums, chewing that up as well. I stared into those flat dull eyes the entire time; watching as she tore away at my face. Even as she sucked out my eyeballs, I somehow managed not to pass out.
Even now, I can feel her breaking off my arms; using her tiny, dull, little teeth to work the muscles free from the tendons and bone. My legs, genitals, and most of my stomach have already been consumed. Still, I am alive and conscious. I must have somehow gotten infected with some of the zombie potion myself; absorbed it through my skin. Sissy is having a hard time chewing through my muscles with her blunt canines. This will be a very slow process. And it seems like I will be awake for all of it.
Fly
Mike was sitting at the bar reading the newspaper. The headline featured a story on the construction of a new local casino scheduled to open next year. There were two other stories on the front page. One was about the upcoming De La Hoya fight at the Thomas & Mack Arena and the other was about a woman who had apparently been thrown naked off the balcony of a local hotel. It was the second one in as many weeks. None of it interested Mike. He folded up the paper and placed it on the bar. He didn’t even mind when the drunk beside him spilled his drink on it. It was all old news to him.
Women had started walking past smiling at him and trying to catch his eye. Horny tourists looking for a vacation fling. Mike seemed to attract them like flies. Fuck what you heard about women liking men for their minds. Mike knew what it was that attracted them. He was short and powerfully built with a thick chest and huge shoulders. He looked like a pro wrestler. In fact he looked like a cross between Stone Cold Steve Austin and Tank Abbot. Women found the air of menace that seemed to radiate from him an irresistible aphrodisiac. There was something violent in his ice blue eyes, something wild and dangerous. Bitches loved it.
A Hollywood blonde with pornographically large breasts scooted up beside him at the bar. She ran one tiny hand over his thick muscular biceps and smiled appreciatively. Mike smiled back at her, staring at her tits. He had to consciously restrain himself from grabbing them. She followed his eyes down to her breasts and her smile grew wider, more confident, more seductive.
“Wanna dance?”
She was young, maybe twenty-two. She had a dark burnt-orange tan courtesy of a tanning booth and shoulder length blonde hair courtesy of peroxide. With her blonde hair, ultra-white teeth, and sky blue eyes she looked to Mike like a photo-negative. The other male customers seemed to find it appealing. Mike thought her skin looked like fried bologna. Still, she had that perfectly round, firm, little ass perched high on her back that bounced and jiggled as she did her little bump and grind in time to the music and those impossibly large DD breasts. She was only about 5’5” and just barely over a hundred pounds not including the breasts. They no doubt added another twenty pounds or so. One half of Mike thought they looked ridiculous. The other half wanted to tit-fuck her until he came all over them.
Mike knew she was a stripper. This was about the time of night when the swing shift got off at Jaguars, the local titty bar. They always headed over to the club after work. Many of them came to the club to meet up with guys they met at work. Others came to pick up guys and perhaps turn a trick or two. But most of them just came to get drunk and party. You could always tell the strippers by the mini skirts, short shorts, or hot pants, the tremendous silicone enhanced breasts stuffed into tiny little baby t-shirts or bra tops, and the practiced, over rehearsed way they said: “Wanna dance?”
“Sure. What’s your name?”
“Tasty.”
“Yeah, of course it is.”
“Alright my real name is Sarah. Tasty is my stage name. What’s your name?”
“Mike. Let’s dance.”
Dancing was about the last thing Mike wanted to do but it was part of the mating ritual. He led her out onto the dance floor. As the DJ mixed the music from Techno, to Rap, to Rock ‘n Roll he began rubbing all over her, her ass, her legs, her breasts, grinding against her as she wiggled her ass and slithered up and down him. She bent over and bounced her ass, rubbing it against Mike’s erection. Then she turned around and threw her head back arching her back and jiggling her breasts. Mike grabbed her and kissed her deeply, passionately. His tongue darted into her mouth and attacked hers; striking, coiling, and constricting like two dueling adders. He could feel her body starting to melt and he knew she was ready. He could already taste the alcohol on her breath so he figured he could skip that part of the mating ritual.
“Where do you live?”
“I live over on Tropicana.”
“In those little pink two story apartment buildings?”
“No I live in a four story, on the top floor.”
Mike thought to himself for a moment. It just might be high enough. His eyes wandered over her huge breasts, smooth muscular legs, and tight round ass and he figured it was at least worth a try.
“Let’s go to your place.”
She reached out and ran her hands over his thick muscular chest and shoulders, down over his arms, squeezing his biceps. She looked into his icy blue eyes and smiled.
“Sure.” She said
He walked her out into the parking lot and over to her 1999, white, Mustang convertible. Strippers always have nice cars.
She drove fast. She had the top down and the wind whipped through her blonde hair pulling it back away from her face to stream out in back of her. It was quite a dramatic effect one that she was obviously aware of. Mike put his hand on her thigh and slid it up under her skirt and between her thighs. She was not wearing underwear and she was already wet. Mike slid his middle finger up inside her and she let out a slight gasp. He began sliding it in and out of her pussy while his thumb massaged her clitoris. She closed her eyes and let out a low soulful moan. Her leg quivered and she nearly swerved into oncoming traffic. Mike pulled his finger out of her pussy and slid it into her mouth where she sucked it and licked her juices off of it. She stomped on the gas and flew the remaining two blocks to her apartment complex almost burning rubber as she turned into the parking lot.
Mike followed “Tasty” up to her lavishly decorated two-bedroom apartment. As he watched her ass bounce up the stairs in that tight mini-skirt he could feel the hunger rise. His rational mind was receding as the hunger took over him. He was all lust now, all passion. She fumbled with her keys outside the door of her apartment and even that slight movement made her breasts bounce and jiggle. This time Mike did not restrain himself from grabbing them. He filled both his hands with her tremendous tits, pinching the nipples and grinding his urgent erection a
gainst her ass. Finally she located the right key and they spilled into her apartment.
The door had barely closed before Mike had ripped her shirt off and was sucking her breasts, licking and biting at her nipples. Her hands were busy trying to undo his belt buckle and pull his zipper down. Finally she pulled his pants down and Mike stepped out of them kicking off his shoes at the same time. Mike was still sucking on her tits when he reached around and unzipped her skirt. He had to literally peel it off of her it was so tight. Once again he slid a finger up inside her. Her pussy was sopping wet. She moaned as he finger-fucked her tight wet pussy still licking and sucking her hard nipples. She had grabbed hold of his throbbing hard cock and was aggressively stroking it with her hand. Mike pulled his fingers out of her pussy as she went to her knees and took all eight inches of him down her throat. He grabbed the back of her head, entwining his fingers in her long blonde hair, and started fucking her mouth as she slurped and sucked almost gagging as he pounded his dick down the back of her throat. She was playing with her own pussy while she sucked Mike’s rock hard dick. She guided Mike down to the floor and continued to bob her head up and down the length of his shaft. Mike slid her around until she was straddling him with her dripping wet pussy inches from his face. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her pussy down to his hungry mouth. His tongue quickly found her clitoris and she let out a moan as he started licking and sucking it. Yes, she was tasty.
They stayed in a “69” with her licking his balls, licking her way up the shaft of his cock and then around the head, before taking the entire thing down her throat so far her nose would disappear in his pubic hair. Mike was sliding his tongue in and out of her sweet pussy and then sucking and flicking her clit with his tongue making her whole body quiver. Mike started flicking his tongue across her clit faster and faster while sliding his middle and index finger in and out of her and he could feel her body tense and then shake as the orgasm overtook her, slamming through her body like a tidal wave. Wave after wave of orgasms slammed through her body as Mike’s tongue danced across her clit.
The Book of a Thousand Sins Page 17