Twilight's Last Gleaming

by Hertzen Chimera

  The living-room door opened and in wobbled Penny Massachusetts, Jenifer Maryland Florida and PC (out of uniform and off duty, may I say) Peter Alaska. No-one seemed to notice.

  “There should be drinks through here.” Peter Alaska directed them through the staggering (aka dancing) throng to the kitchen. There, nestled inside the open fridge door was one can of Tenants Extra. Peter Alaska snatched it as a hand from the other side of a clique reached for it. The owner of the hand shouted, “Oi!” and dashed round the chattering group.

  “Bedford.” Peter Alaska exclaimed, “How's tricks?”

  “I'll tell you what, Pete, it's hard to get drunk round here.”

  “Sorry. But finders keepers.”

  Bedford Delaware fished out a flyer from a pocket, “Halvers and this is yours.”

  Peter Alaska snatched the note, “Don't think so.”

  “Cheat.” Bedford Delaware squealed, racing out of the kitchen at top speed, “Cheat! Cheat! Cheat!”

  “Shut Up Bedford!!” everyone shouted as if it is a game they’ve played before.

  “CHEAT! CHEAT! CHEAT!” Bedford Delaware defied the fucking lot of them. He turned off the CD Player to tumultuous uproar as he screamed, “CHEAT! CHEAT! CHEAT!” at the top of his shrieking voice. Everyone raced for Bedford and there was blood to be spilt, that’s for sure.

  “Bedford Delaware.” one female voice lifted from the rabble, “Put the music back on and stop acting the fool.”

  The speaker, Lily Veyne, dropped her lime-green Cagoule to the floor and casually swinging the biggest bottle of QC Rich Ruby you've ever seen, from which protruded a single black-plastic swan-necked straw, glided silently through to the kitchen.

  “There you are.” she greeted Penny Massachusetts and Jenifer Maryland and Pc Peter Alaska. The music resumed; the volume suddenly deafening. Metallica. Again the booing. Metallica was quickly changed for some ancient Bauhaus stuff; Muscle in Plastic.

  “A man with a sense of humour.” Lily Veyne smiled to her guests, “Want something edible?” she asked them.

  “Why not.” Penny chirped.

  “Bedsy!” Lily Veyne hailed him, “These guests are starving, honey. Whip out your cock and lets have a bite!” she gnashed her teeth.

  “Go fuck yourself.” Bedford Delaware feigned hurt.

  “Come with me.” Bedford Delaware said to the Gothic-looking Jenifer Maryland.

  “Careful, I think he means that literally.” Lily Veyne said to Jenifer Maryland as Bedford Delaware took her hand, two girls hand in hand.

  “Very sickly sweet heart.” Bedford Delaware spat pink battery acid that fizzled and effervesced stupidly. He guided Jenifer Maryland to the living room, to get to know her. Lily Veyne passed the bottle of Rich Ruby to Penny Massachusetts. She turned to the group beside her busy munching on the remains of the fridge.

  “Enjoying yourselves, are you?”

  They shrugged, suddenly uneasy with the focussed attention of this stranger. Passing through the living room, a sea of bodies, Lily Veyne noticed a large black man in the corner by the drawn curtains; he was watching a flaxen-haired lad skin up.

  “Tony, my old china.” she greeted him.

  He looked up from his labours, eyes bloodshot and heavy. “Hi, Lilllz.” he slurred, “You buyinnn?”

  “A donation to the festivities was more of what I had in mind.” she smiled.

  “Meaninnn?”

  “Well..” she crouched down, resting her hand on the muscular thigh of Tony's black friend, “If Lily doesn’t get her rolly, you and your fit friend here are out on the fucking street tonight. Excuse my French.” she apologised to the negro. He shrugged: sorta couldn't-give-a-fuck body language.

  “Isn't she beautiful, our Lilz?” Tony grinned at his black friend; he seemed to sober up in a flash, “0h, shit, yeah. Lilz, George. My new boy friend. But I call him Georgia. Suits him, don't you think?”

  “Fuck off, Aveline.” Georgia elbowed Tony in the ribs.

  “Jolly couple.” Lily Veyne smiled.

  “It’s only his big black pudding I'm after.” Tony confessed to being a ‘true meat eater’.

  Lily Veyne slid her hand up the tight thigh to the legendary man muscle, “Ouch.” she squeezed the package.

  “The things people'll do for a smoke, eh?” Georgia grinned.

  “There's more things in life than dope, Georgy Porgy.” she felt the genital muscle leap under her hand, “Woah, donkey!”

  Tony held out the half finished joint, jealous as fuck, “D’you want this or not?”

  She smiled into Georgia's cool auburn eyes, “I’ll take whatever I want, whenever I want.” She leaned forward, her weight on his zipper, and kissed the puffy chocolate lips. “Comprendez?” she didn’t even bother looking at Tony.

  “It's all yours.” Tony licked the edge of the joint, sealing it, and handed it to her. Eventually, Lily Veyne regarded Tony in grey tones, “Many kind regards, honey.” Lily Veyne tweaked his cornflower goatee. “You're too sweet, mother.”

  Tony huffed, “In your dream.”

  She popped the joint into her mouth, “Got a light for Lilz?”

  PC Peter Alaska flipped his Zippo lighter under her nose.

  “Thanks, honey.” Lily Veyne sucked in the flame, then rose to her feet, asking, “How are our new guests?” Before PC Peter Alaska could give an answer, a couple were bidding Lily Veyne a fond farewell.

  “Great gig.” the man was uneasy on his legs.

  “He's up early in the morning.” his wife butted in, New York flight.

  “Lucky sod.” Lily Veyne remarked.

  “You can take my place whenever you're good and ready. Just say the word.” he croaked.

  “Flying's not in my blood, I'm afraid.” Lily Veyne confessed.

  “I'll be back in two weeks. Anymore parties, give us an okay. Okay?”

  “Will do.” she escorted the couple to the door. When she turned round, PC Peter Alaska had vanished. She returned to the kitchen.. empty. She checked the queue for the bathroom, loud sexual sounds still emanate from within. Neither Penny Massachusetts nor Jenifer Maryland were in the queue. She checked the first of two bedrooms in the apartment. Two couples were smooching in the shadows. One on the single bed all bare arses and feet. One couple on the far side of the sheepskin rug; a white behind bobbing rhythmically in and out of luminary existence.

  “They'd better not stain that.” Lily Veyne thought out loud. Then said, “You clean up what you spill!” Both bonking couples ignored her. She closed the door and entered the second bedroom. There, sprawled on Bedford Delaware’s bed - Bedford, Nicky and Penny were smoking the largest joint even Lily Veyne had ever seen.

  “You all right then?” was Lily Veyne’s obvious question.

  “I like the effect of this cigarette.” Penny Massachusetts slurred, holding the joint all wrong, “But I hate the taste of the tobacco.”

  “Give it here.” Lily Veyne gestured with her fingers, “I’ll show you.” She took a good, long drag on the joint, handed it to Bedford Delaware and took Penny’s face. Opened her mouth with a finger. And blew a rich plume of smoke in. “Seconds.” Lily Veyne called it.

  “Battleships.” Penny breathed, face aghast.

  “Me. Me.” Jenifer Maryland aped like a pissed up thing. “I want battleships.”

  “I’ll do it.” Bedford Delaware said.

  “I want her to do it.” Jenifer Maryland replied.

  “Hard cheese.” Lily Veyne said, again gesturing for the monster roach. She gave Jenifer Maryland the ‘seconds’ she was begging for.

  Jenifer Maryland giggled childishly, “BATTLESHIPS! BATTLESHIPS!”

  “RA! RA! RA!” Penny finished off the legend from her side of the bed.

  Bedford Delaware, eyebrows raised, went, “Scandalous Behaviour..”

  Lily Veyne pouted denunciatingly at him, “Here.” she handed him her pitiful joint in exchange, “Away you go now little boy.”

  And with that sad carrot dang
led in his face Bedford Delaware shuffled over to Penny's side of the bed and got down to the business of getting really fucking wrecked.

  When Lily Veyne again gave Jenifer Maryland seconds the service developed into a submissive series of kisses and embraces. Within no time, stoned beyond belief, Jenifer Maryland and Lily Veyne, Bedford Delaware and Penny Massachusetts were stark bollock naked. Not a fucking care in the world.

  “Pick a fold.” Penny was screaming to Bedford Delaware; who complied by fucking every crevice and overhang, every nook and cranny, every fold of her soft, plump, wrinkly body, caring not whether he fucked her to heart failure; just eager to get his end away in the most original way possible; as ever.

  Jenifer Maryland's fingers were already probing the Veyne cunt. Her internal anatomy ... not quite right, for any woman. Jenifer Maryland couldn't be sure but there was that hint of doubt, that small hesitation in the face of Lily’s genital reality. All her senses were so fucking topsy-turvy she couldn’t even trust her own judgement. Jenifer Maryland kissed her mouth. Her eyes. Turned her over and kissed the peculiar shaped birthmark on her right shoulder. A raw and distorted view of the United Kingdom the blemish resembles; with Wales and Lands Dad exaggerated; Scotland's highlands longer; the South and West Country broader; the North West non-existent.

  “Eczema?” Jenifer Maryland drooled comically.

  “What, that?”

  Eczema. she touched, the raised icon.

  “Birthmark. Like it?”

  “It's odd… like a map if I was looking.” Jenifer Maryland kissed it, “Tastes of.. no.. petals?”

  “Ever tasted petals?”

  “Of course not. But it’s the only thing it tastes of.” again she tasted the blotch. Her tongue tingled like when you lick a battery. The hairs on the back of her neck were going fucking crazy. She fell back to the bed, then like she’d been drugged.

  Lily Veyne's thighs clenching Jenifer Maryland's hand as she fell back with her. She kissed Jenifer Maryland full on the mouth.

  Jenifer Maryland chuckled to herself, opened her eyes and saw three slim, white fingers where Lily Veyne's tongue should have been. Recognised her own black nail varnish. Helplessly watched Lily Veyne chipping off flakes with her pearly white teeth. Then gulping the lot of them back down her throat. Jenifer Maryland pulled her hand free. It stank of petrol fumes. The weight of her stomach leapt up into her throat. She swallowed it back in the nick of time.

  “Wait there.” Lily Veyne ordered, leaping naked from the bedroom and returning with a giddy party girl already starkers and sweating like a proper thoroughbred. What are we into in here then? the party girl asked in a gormless accent.

  “Cunnilingus.”

  “Who do I get?”

  Lily Veyne pointed at the black-haired girl, legs akimbo, eyes disconnected and rattling loose in their sockets.

  “Pour moi?” the party girl overdosed on her performance.

  “I want to watch you show her how it's done.” from Lily.

  Drug-hazed Jenifer Maryland was a willing work horse. She was fingered and teased and licked until she came and came and came; all regulation screams and glistening cuntlips, her mouth agape as she arched her back pressing down on the hand invading her; little finger up the arse; thumb tickling her clitoris; the rest of ‘em stuffed right in.. a most professional hand job.

  Jenifer Maryland bucked and bounced like a Spring lamb. Wriggling and writhing as the waves awakened in her again, rolling slowly in like a neap tide from the back of her head, down her back and burrowing in where it gestated intensifying incubating its ferocity. She was screaming on, hoarse with pleasure. She reached for the woman. Found her sex. Dug her fingers in. The woman also screamed, but for a very different reason; struggled to be released; was held back by the cunt; from the inside. She screamed, shouts insults, hit out at Jenifer Maryland’s ecstatic face, busting her nose. Jenifer Maryland rose from the bed.

  Pushed her hand deeper in, screaming her excitement all the time. Sweat dripping from her, an oily secretion from her gaping pores. The woman valiantly fought to her knees on the bed and threw herself back onto the floor. Guts and blood a slick trail from between her legs, an abortion of internal organs.

  Jenifer Maryland still writhing on her back, hips bumping up and down, in her hand the still-pumping heart of the dead party girl. The organ drained itself in one last haemal ejaculation, spluttering wet haemorrhages into Jenifer Maryland’s face. She dragged a lascivious tongue through the slurry, savouring the meaty sauce. Rolled the still twitching heart down her nakedness - a red carpet unravelled to the open door of a palace. Nicky ground the organ between her legs, her thighs quivering with the tension as her hips flicked up up up. She pressed the dead pound of cardiac meat in, pile-driving it up her gaping cunt. The jabbering maw devoured it whole. Gulped in the lot; like childbirth in reverse. Reverse contraction slurping in the progeny.

  Jenifer Maryland gasping for death, her thighs had turned to jelly and she was finally expended. Shuddering, as if from chronic cold, she turned in; foetal. All warm and cuddly like. Suddenly, she was awake; fully conscious in the blink of an eye.

  Bedford Delaware, beside her, finally worked off his arousal in a short sharp squirt of milky lust onto the gory tableau. Jenifer Maryland gathered herself to a seated position.

  Lily Veyne, at the foot of the bed, was admiring Jenifer Maryland’s blood strewn nudity, “Fucking beautiful, honey. The stuff of a savage nation, Battleship Standard.”

  Jenifer Maryland was confused now; cruelly sobered up; disgusted; horrified; fixated on the slaughtered partygirl on the floor and threw up all over her, the cubes of orange splattered the woman's blood slaked thighs. Jenifer Maryland fell from the bed, landing in her own sick.

  “Easy, honey.” Lily Veyne tried to compose her.

  But Jenifer Maryland was in Red Alert mode. She scrambled to her feet, the thick vomit squelching between her toes. The stench of stomach acid nauseating. “Back off!” she warned Lily Veyne. Collected up her leather, her Doc Martens and her lycras and, with the flick-knife out in front of her, made her way out of the apartment. Descending the staircase half-dressed and sobbing.

  SESSION XII

  The Ebony Haired Terrorist lay sprawled out on the floor of his study. His chair upended. His cold body lay motionless among the shattered wreckage of his life's work. Holographic shards of golden asymmetry ticking from one geometric form to another in a steady heartbeat rhythm. His all-too-familiar face is death blue. His insubstantial clothing in tatters about him. His writing quills impaled in his back, their golden ink flooding into the flesh, discolouring the dried blood that tracked down his cold ribs. His deep blue eyes were frozen in time gazing into infinite blackness.

  Silently, I closed the ventilation vents at the far end of the room; their chilly streamers give up their fluttering life. A dark, sinister air hangs unwelcome at this solemn place devoid of the smells of the human. So very wrong that - an occupied space devoid of any trace of smell; neither fart nor pheromone. Heavy suspicion-cloaked raptures screamed from the torn-out throats of falling

  I picked up a dark shard from the floor beside his lifeless body. It felt surprisingly warm to touch. Warm, as in comforting, something that liked to be held. The golden holographic symbol beat from a spiny sphere to a seal shape to a piston shape to a contemporary Japanese hi-backed chair to an exclamation to... Repeating the whole cycle after 24 symbols have been ticked through with metronome regularity. Its mechanism unfathomable. Its meaning beyond me.

  The body on the floor stirred unannounced. I half-shrieked and staggered back clumsily. The man raised a shaky hand to his head, moaned at some unknowable pain. He turned to face the scurried sound of my surprise. Pustulent, freshly-gouged-out eye sockets struggle to make sense of what or who I might be. He reached out a hand, his mouth agape; tasting my proximity?

  “Stranger.” he moaned, seeing me, “Stranger.”

  I cleared my throat self-consciously,

&
nbsp; His prose began...

  Pin back your ears in anticipation of my tome

  Cower while this rampant bedlam

  Erogenous as a sluttish whore's hex

  Belated as goose-down damnation's feathered edge

  With rose stems and fledgling lariats of iron

  I cream eggs with Semen

  Cementing from this callous froth a world demented with fate's

  Magnanimously accidental wrath

  I scurry blindly through the debris of this barren landscape

  My hands raging through razor blades of sentimentality

  My teeth power-drilled in retribution occurs with regularity now this

  Actors muse, Beat

  From the wings of desire exhumed by technology

  The blasted mind warp segregation to which I am now in my delirium…

  “What?” I gawped, but the raven-haired prophet died without uttering another luridly surreal sentence.

  “And how are we this beautiful morning, Mister Deniz?” Dr Fanny Bradburg chirped.

  “Fine.” I replied; everything was fine.

  “We have, I am pleased to say, some preliminary results for you.” She rifled her stack of notes she had brought with her on her rounds, “The situation seems well in hand. There'll be no need for us to continue injecting you with that horrible Diazopine. We seem to be progressing nicely towards a full recovery. You'll be out of here in no time, young man.”

  She checked her wristwatch, “In no time at all.”

  She smiled her nauseating cruel smile.

  I'm sure she practised the horrid facial spasm down in the autopsy labs as they're hacking open the Stinkers; you know, those poor drowned souls they dredge up from cess pools and sewers and the like. Real putrid smelling bright green things they are; all the poisonous toxins glowing under their skin.

  “Right. I’ll pop in to see you soon, Mister Deniz. Keep your pecker up, young man. Be strong for me. Not too long, now.” she backed out of my room.

  “What preliminary results?” I asked her as she has almost got away scot-free.

  “Excuse me?” she looked over her spectacles.