fiX - A ParaBnormal Fairy Tale

by Michael Golvach

  “She’s a sexual deviant. She was never yours, even when she was. You really think she stopped scoping out strange dick when you two shacked up? You really believe she wasn’t creeping? Prostitution was a great way for that sickening little bitch to hide what she was and get paid for it. But she gave it up for free just as easily. Trust me.” Richard laughed, looking back at the goons who only giggled for him. “She’s an STD on two legs. I’m surprised your plumbing still works. And watch your mouth or I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

  “I’m sorry, Ricky.” David rubbed his forehead, wondering when in the hell the police were going to break down the doors. “I was wrong to say that. I didn’t mean to insinuate you like the little girls. I meant the little boys.”

  Richard growled, not bothering to look back at Paul who was already in the process of waving him down. “She was already blown out by the time you met her. Nobody else wanted to fuck her, so you got lucky there. If you could call that luck. Now I run into her and not only is she looking healthy, she’s looking fuckin’ healthy. If you know what I mean. She got what she wanted from you, anyway.” Richard looked back at Paul, who gave him a thumbs-up, and he continued. “You know, Davey, she offered me a shiny new dime. To let her take me out in the alley. Suck my dick. The way she knows I love it.” David shook his head and grimaced as Richard grinned and continued to lay into him. “I could see her lips trembling when she checked me out. Goosebumps everywhere. She was dying for a taste. I didn’t feel right about it, but I’m a nice guy so I let her cop my joint. For free. And she cleaned my pipes. She really fixed me up. I mean she sucked down every ounce of—”

  “That sounds special, Ricky,” David interrupted. “It must be love.”

  “Keep on laughing, you miserable little bitch,” Richard fumed. “Because after she finished draining me dry, believe it or not, she still had a thing or seven to say to me other than ‘God bless you’.”

  “Oh?” Paul asked. Suddenly interested in something other than fantasising about Juno’s mouth. “Do tell, Ricky. What did she have to say to you? Not anything about our best boy, Davey? Say no.”

  “I wish I could. He’s all she could talk about. You know what, Davey?” David looked back at him. “Since she’s completely fucked you over too, I’m going to go find her when we’re through here. Return the favour. Tit for tat, as it were.”

  David moved toward Richard, anger in his eyes.

  The goons all snapped to, looking way too happy. Fingers on triggers. Thinking this was going to be the day. Hoping, definitely. “I don’t know what you’re going on about, Ricky. But she didn’t tell you anything, because there’s nothing to tell.” David looked back at Paul. “If he even saw her at all. Is this how you treat your best earner, Paulie? Come on. Don’t I get any respect? My uncle isn’t going to be happy when he hears about this. Not at all.”

  Paul looked over at David. “Fuck your uncle, Davey. We have a problem I’m sure he’d understand.”

  “Which is?” David asked.

  “Fuck, I don’t know.” Paul motioned to Richard. “Ricky doesn’t bother showing up and shooting his mouth off like this for no reason. I’ll keep my suspicions to myself and he’ll tell you what he knows. And, hey, maybe they’ll both be the same.” Paul leant back. “It’ll be fun. To see. Don’t you think?”

  David shook his head slowly, looking down.

  Richard circled him like a shark. “Junie. That sweet piece of ass that used to let you stick your pathetic junkie dick in her for God knows what reason. Junie rolled on you when I ran into her today. The minute she figured she could get out from under by serving you up, that back-stabbing bitch rolled right over. Just like she’s going to do when I go visit her again later and take what I want.” The goons giggled some more as Richard continued. “You want to know what she told me, or do you want to say it yourself? Maybe hold on to a shred of dignity? Or do you want to keep running that fuckin’ mouth? You’ve talked shit to me since day one. And I let it go, because you did a good job and, quite frankly, Paulie wouldn’t let me pull your fuckin’ ticket. Come on, Davey. Tell me what she said.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.” David’s eyes still burnt with rage, but his face stayed surprisingly calm. “I don’t know what you’re expecting to happen next. Are you going to teach me that lesson now? I’ll bet your deep-fried ass really scares the school girls.” Richard continued to stare into him. “But, okay. The last thing Junie said? Let me think... Oh, yeah. Fuck you.”

  “Fuck me? And you’ve got no fucking idea? Let me tell you then. You’re going to love this. Well, maybe not, because you know it’s true and it’s not going to come as a surprise. But Paulie here...” Richard pointed over at Paul, whose eyebrows raised as his smile widened. “Paulie’s going to fuckin’ love this shit. Maybe more than me. Junie says you’ve been marking up our prices to meet your quota. She says you’ve been selling the leftover instead of shooting it. Doing your own work. Dealing our drugs as an independent agent. You believe that?” Richard threw David a wink. “I mean, she didn’t say it in so many words, of course. You could pull a tree trunk out of that mouth, but never a summation quite so eloquent.”

  “This is bad, Davey,” Paul said.

  David backed up again.

  “Yeah, Davey. This is bad,” Richard echoed. “You’ve been stealing from us. Making us look weak. I don’t know for sure if anyone else but that piss-drinking whore knows what you’ve been up to, but I have to assume they do. And if they do, that’s a wrong we can’t allow to go unpunished.” Richard made a gun out of his index finger and thumb, pulling the trigger. “You, my friend, are going to die today. Right here. On this floor. But not before I have the boys bring that mouthy little cunt Junie back here to take her lumps. If you have any self respect left at all. Any whatsoever. You’ll teach her a lesson, but good, before we do. Then we’re all going to take turns with her while you watch. You should enjoy that, now that she’s kicked you. And then we’re going to kill you. But the best part... You know what the best part is?”

  David shook his head. “Get over yourself, Ricky, you half-assed palm jockey. You can quit trying to impress Paulie. The job running this glorified shed is yours, I’m sure, when he moves up the ladder or dies. You’re not going to get away with this anyway.” But a part of him wasn’t sure that was true. Drugs in the room. Money on the table. Threats and admissions being recorded and, supposedly, monitored from down the block, and still no police presence.

  Richard scoffed. “Of course we are. Back on point. The best part is, we’re not going to kill her after we cap you. We’re going to fuckin’ destroy her. I mean, it’s going to be ugly. And then...” Richard chuckled as the goons giggled. Paul smiled and the goons upped their giggles to laughs. “Then, we’re going to let her go. Bleeding from every orifice in her body. Face like a fuckin’ sinkhole. We’re going to drop her off near the hospital so she can get the care she needs. And her punishment, Davey. Her punishment for just knowing your dumb, fresh-mouthed punk ass is going to be a life of misery. She’s going to live the rest of her life strung out. A worthless junkie who can only get her hands on enough dope to maintain, and a prostitute a blind man wouldn’t fuck. That’s the best part. You like it? You should. She dumped you. Fuck her, right?”

  “Paulie?” David asked. “Come on. Really? You’d do all that? To a good earner? To an innocent girl? On Ricky’s say so? That’s it?”

  “I’m sorry, Davey.” Paul leant forward in his chair. “I’ve heard it from other sources. Junie was telling the truth. What she said, what I heard elsewhere and what I suspected. They’re all the same. I trusted you and you fucked me. It ends how it ends.”

  Paul mumbled in Spanish to three of his Guatemalan thugs and they dumped their gear on a nearby workbench before hurrying out the back.

  “Hey, I’ll tell you what, Davey,” Richard said, smiling wide again. “While the boys are out collecting that snitch bitch you used to love, you d
o me a favour and we’ll forget this whole thing.” He looked back at Paul and got the nod. David shook his head. Nothing was going to be forgotten. They were just going to have some fun.

  “What favour?” David asked.

  “Well, I was thinking.” Richard paused for a moment and unbuckled his belt. “Maybe you could save yourself.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m going to make you a deal. You suck me off and swallow, before they get back with her, and we’ll let you walk.”

  Paul laughed again.

  “Seriously? I thought all the gay bashing I throw your way pissed you off,” David said. “Learn something new every day, I guess.”

  “Serious as a stroke, Davey.” Richard played with his belt and zipper, then looked back at Paul before continuing. “And, hey, smart guy. This isn’t gay, all right? This is me fucking with you.”

  “It seems kind of gay to me, Ricky. You sure you wouldn’t rather just take it up the ass?”

  “Shut up, you little shit. Your mouth isn’t going to save you now. Because here’s the fuckin’ deal. You give me a good blow job. And I mean a damn good one. And you get to keep breathing. Would you do that to save your life? If you won’t, I’ll make Junie the same offer I’m making you. And you know she’ll jump at it.”

  “To be clear, Ricky. When you say my mouth isn’t going to save me, does that mean you don’t want the blow job anymore? Or are you suggesting you’d prefer I give you a blow job with someone else’s mouth? I know you pitch a little tent every time you think of me bending over to pick up a pencil, but you’ve got to rein it in and start making sense.”

  Richard punched David hard across the chin. “Yes or no.”

  “Fuck you, you spent piece of shit,” David replied, drooling blood. If the police weren’t going to show up to save his ass, he figured he may as well go out even crazier than he came in. “I’ll tell you what. You show me that piece of spaghetti between your legs you’re deluded enough to call a cock and, when I’m done having a good laugh, feel free to put it in my mouth. Just be sure to say goodbye to it first. Because I’ll eat you, Ricky. No problem. And if it makes you happy, I’ll swallow it all. But I’m not cleaning up the blood and I’m sending you the hospital bill if it doesn’t digest properly. How’s that sound? Sound like a deal?” Richard looked back at Paul, clenching his fists. “Or, hey, even better. Have Paulie ask the goons to give us seven minutes of alone time and I’ll beat you to fuckin’ death with my bare hands. You can try to stop me, but I don’t think you’ll be able to. I’m not a defenceless girl, like one of your stable of barely-legal whores. You don’t scare me in the slightest. And I think you’re nothing without your backup. I could be wrong, but what do you say?” David looked past Richard into Paul’s eyes. “It’ll be fun. To see. Don’t you think?”

  Paul smirked. “Calm down, Davey.” He waved to get Richard’s attention. “Look, Ricky, why don’t you keep your dick in your pants and teach our boy a lesson in manners instead?”

  “Or you could show me how you love it,” David said, grinning and looking into Richard’s eyes. “We all know you’re a chicken hawk. Just admit it and life will be easier, I promise.”

  Richard punched David hard in the gut, dropping him to his knees. “One more fuckin’ faggot remark out of you and I swear to Jesus I’ll strangle you to death with my fuckin’ belt.”

  “All right, all right. I get it, Ricky. You’re not a fuckin’ faggot, you’re just a fuckin’ paedophile.” Richard whipped him across the face, thrice on both cheeks. “I mean you’ve just got a really bad case of tennis elbow.”

  And David knelt, shivering, as Richard continued to thrash him with his belt. Praying for the sound of a police siren. Any time soon would be nice.

  Detective Franklin Bowe sat in the back of the generic van he’d requisitioned for a drug sting. Waiting with three other officers, straight out of the academy. All listening to the wire on their newest snitch. Franklin, praying the junkie he’d roped into helping him cripple the drug trade in his precinct had remembered to bring along his own recorder. Too much bad shit just happened to happen to the wire whenever they went after the heroin trade. If every cop in the precinct wasn’t as bent as he was, he might have some idea who to confront about it. Hopefully the new blood he’d brought with him hadn’t been gotten to yet.

  “What do you think? We go in?” one of the officers asked him.

  “Hold on a second.” Franklin waved them off. “Radio backup and have them pick up the muscle coming out the rear of the warehouse. Make sure they let them get far enough away before they make the grab, though. Let them get to the street. We don’t want anyone in that warehouse to wonder if something’s up. And secure Miss Conjay. Tell them: do it quick and do it quiet.” An officer acknowledged and called for backup to intercept the goons and safeguard Juno.

  “But shouldn’t we go in now?” another officer asked.

  Franklin looked at all three of the uniforms in the van with exhausted frustration. “Keep ’em in your pants, kids. We do this how we do it. Wait for confirmation on the take down. You kids don’t know a God damn thing about timing.” He scoffed as he brushed crumbs off his suit. “If we’d have gone in when you all wanted to, seven minutes ago, we’d have dealt with more numbers in there and somebody could’ve ended up getting killed. You seeing how this works? It’s all about attrition. Clear?”

  “Loud and. Sir,” the officers replied. The wire was still buzzing with lots of talk. Admissions. Threats. All good enough for evidence.

  The third officer chimed in. “But they’re not going to send anyone else out. Shouldn’t we be shutting that place down, sir?”

  “Hold your fuckin’ horses, son. Don’t you want to find out if our guy’s going to blow Ricky? He’s got a big enough mouth, that’s for sure. I think he’ll do it. Unless this whole fight’s fixed. Anyone want to put money on it?” He laughed as he looked around the van. No one else shared his sense of humour.

  Then he heard the words that meant the fun was over. The speakers in the van squeaked and popped as Richard Nevil’s voice boomed, “What the fuck is this, Davey? You think you were going to record this drop and, what, turn us all in?” More grumbling and more static. “Looks like we made the right call. Ending this. Ending you. Here and now.”

  David began preaching his innocence, saying something about how it was all a big misunderstanding, and that, before they did anything rash, Richard and Paul should go fuck each other in the back room to blow off a little steam so they could think the whole situation through clearly.

  Franklin motioned for the other officers to move in. “Time to go.” He freed his gun from its holster and threw on his Kevlar. “Call in the other units. We’re going live now. Before they destroy the fuckin’ tape.”

  “And before anyone gets hurt, right?” one of the officers asked.

  “Yeah,” Franklin said. “That too.”

  “...This is not a fairy tale... And I know you can smell it coming.”

  It’s still trying hard to ignore me but It might be ready to break. There’s only so much any entity can stand. And I know every little place I can tap on It and cause It to fracture. It knows I know this and that’s always bothered It. And the smell is getting stronger.

  The smell is getting stronger and it’s making It weaker. And, as much as that would normally have me wearing a formless facsimile of a smile, the odour is also pulling me back to my favourite monkey. Knowing if I stop paying him attention, my favourite monkey may be leaving this plane of existence too soon. Which would mean starting all over again. With the simpering, lost objective of my mission bemoaning Its predicament to every other monkey It can manage to keep from turning away from It in disgust.

  If some monkeys didn’t love to taste other monkeys, It would probably still be afraid and alone. Even more of a pain in my amorphous ass.

  But I can afford to leave It for a moment now. That’s all I’ll need. A damping of the lights for an instant and my f
avourite monkey, whose smell is driving It deep into denial, will be okay. That part of my mission may need no help at all, but I can’t leave that to chance. Not when It’s gotten this close to finding Its path Home after so long.

  It’s feeling lonelier than ever before, now that I’ve made It aware of the smell. And if the monkey It fears—with his distinctive stench—deviates from his path, the whole mission will be at risk. The waiting will be what it will be, but I can’t guarantee It won’t give up trying to find Its way Home eventually.

  And if that happens, I won’t be getting Home any time soon either. Perhaps never.

  At least It came back to Its senses relatively quickly. An infinitesimal fraction of a second in the Above. Still, it annoys me that It clings far too desperately to the trappings of the In-Between. Fixed in place like a mindless statue.

  But my mission is not to force It to come Home. I have not been tasked with dragging It back with me. If only the mission were that simple. I would have been done as soon as I started. But I’m being taught a lesson, I know.

  My mission is to make It see the way back to where It came from and to make sure It understands. Optimally, to turn It from lost to found. Worst case, turn It from lost to ‘intentionally on extended vacation’. It can choose to remain a monkey for as long as It desires, once It knows Its way back. Why It would want to is beyond me, but I’ve never understood It or any of Its kind. Throwing away an eternity bathing in the greatest love that could ever exist.

  I can’t stand to watch Its monkey form lay on the floor in Its wooden box and cry while Its thoughts run through my head. Questioning every question. Questioning every answer. Still waiting for one particular, disgusting and inappropriate monkey to show It the way. Not wanting to believe It could be wrong. Still clinging to Its pride. Still maddeningly oblivious to the fact that what It clings to is what keeps It shackled and blind. Still seeming to want to be bound, even as Its very essence begs to be set free.