When he finished the introduction, the warden placed a boot upon the table. The rats down in the basement had chewed their black leather and he started breathing deeply.
1
She was there. Her arms rested on her elbows on the counter of the bar. Between her hands, there was a half-empty glass of champagne. She was swirling the glass, spilling it over the border from time to time.
Richard was also there. She was sensibly far away, but he was stalking her and noticed how beautiful she was. He had a glass of whiskey on the rocks in his hands. He had spent so much time looking at the girl that the ice had melted.
The girl sank her head between her hands and groaned because of a splitting headache. She wrinkled and closed her eyes.
Richard changed seats. He slipped and almost fell from the red velvet stool. He was a tall, barrel-chested man. For all the love affairs that he had pursued, he felt extremely self-conscious about his weight.
The girl at the counter had eyes as green as jade. Her long eyelashes highlighted how big and beautiful they were. Her rosy cheeks were angular and she had dimples when she smiled. Her full lips were painted with a red lipstick, covering two rows of perfectly white teeth and a soft tongue.
Richard was closely shaved and had somewhat long hair, always well combed and ending in a small pony tail. He had rosy cheeks and small, brown eyes. He was dressed like a businessman to look like he was someone important. The trousers were too small for him. He actually owned a small business dealing cars that made him some money. His wife was called Rachel. She was a scrawny woman with short hair, always suffering from depression and hooked on anxiolytics.
The body of the A+ girl looked like she had been sculpted. Her waist looked like the body of a guitar and she had the longest legs he had ever seen. Her waist was thin and she had a piercing on her belly button. Her breasts were exuberant, her neck long and she was wearing a two piece dress that left her hips bare.
Richard felt himself getting excited, but not that night. That night, she wasn’t for him.
2
Richard returned the next day dressed with the same clothes and wearing the same perfume. She was there, too. She was wearing a long, blue dress and a darker shade of lipstick. She looked at Richard from afar. She got up and walked up to him.
“Hi,” she said.
Richard felt his heartbeat get quicker, and he started to sweat. After a long and ominous silence, he was able to talk. He was too fascinated by the eyes that were staring at him.
“Hey.”
“I noticed that you won’t stop looking at me,” she said wrinkling her lips.
“No! That wasn’t it! I was looking at the waiter. Have you seen how he prepares the cocktails?”
“Yep, surely you were, buddie.”
“It’s the truth...”
“And I believe you.” She sat next to him in a velvet stool. “May I?”
“Of course!” He doubted for a second. “Let me buy you a drink, ehm...”
“Sheyla,” she answered.
“You aren’t from here, right?”
She shook her head.
“I’m from Mexico,” she explained quickly. “But I’ve been living here for over twenty years.”
Richard looked at her again and realized that she wasn’t over twenty years old. Either she was lying, or she was twenty-two, twenty-three at most. That didn’t matter. She was an A+ girl and she had given the first step.
“That’s why you can’t tell from your accent,” said Richard showing a sleazy smile.
She sank further into the stool. There was a long silence, and finally she gave the first step once again.
“Are you married?”
Richard almost choked on his whiskey and he started coughing.
“No! Not at all!” He lied wearing his best smile.
She shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment, completely aware that he was lying to her.
“Neither am I,” she said with a sweet smile that highlighted her dimples.
“So we’re both free,” excitedly stated Richard.
“You want to spend the night with me?” she asked bringing her chest forward.
“Wow, you are quick! Aren’t you?” He laughed weirdly and covered his mouth with one hand so that she couldn’t see that he was missing a tooth.
“Well, we are consenting adults, aren’t we?”
“What...? Oh, yeah, sure we are.”
“Are you buying?”
Richard stalled. It was as if he had lost consciousness or something like that. His smile started gradually disappearing, not because he had got angry, but because of the surprise. Then. His face lit again. His eyes widened.
“Of course, what do you want?”
“Champagne”
Richard turned to a waiter that was cleaning a table close to them.
“Lady, please.” He lifted a hand to call her attention. She noticed she was being called and lifted her head. “Can I get some champagne, please?”
The A+ girl smiled to Richard. The waiter put the rag she was using away and went behind the counter to ask the bar-man for the champagne.
“French champagne!” added Richard a bit louder. There was a soft music playing in the background.
“I love it,” said the woman talking to Richard as she crossed her legs. Richard felt himself getting hard. “I only drink champagne.”
Richard nodded.
3
After two bottles of champagne and a couple of whiskeys, things got heated and their body language had changed. Her cleavage was more prominent and he couldn’t uncross his legs. Richard knew what was to come that night. The waiter looked at them from the corner of her eyes. The laughs and dirty language was constant. Next to them, other couples drank a couple of drinks and went away, but they were still there. It seemed like the moment wouldn’t come, so she finally proposed it.
“Do you wanna come to my room?”
Richard was struck, but not surprised, because he expected that, any moment, she would propose it. He was certain of it! He had already slept with all the whores in Boad Hill, leaving his wife, Rachel, in the background.
“I’m staying at a hotel like two blocks away from here.”
He nodded, knowing exactly what hotel she was talking about. It was small, but cared about its image as the most luxurious ones. They could get on foot, granted that they were able to stay on their feet. That night, he was going to taste the A+ girl. That night, something would happen. He wasn’t expecting exactly what it was.
4
They walked in zig-zags, drunk and making fuss. She was able to keep her balance, but he was leaning from side to side, still able to walk the way. They were very close to the hotel.
They walked together and the sound of their steps on the street walk echoed through the night.
5
When they got in, a man wearing a hat with a golden ribbon greeted them nodding his head and bending his waist, like a bow. The room’s temperature was nice and Richard was glad for the warmth. Behind the man with the grey uniform, they found the desk where they could check in. A woman was looking at them, ready to deal him them as Richard took out his driver’s license and credit card with a knowing and quick movement.
“Could I get a room, please?”
“Sure thing, sir,” said the woman smiling widely and starting to type on the computer. A moment later, she turned around to a shelf filled with hung keys and picked up one of them. “Room thirteen,” she said extending him the key.
“I’m not superstitious,” said Richard answering a question that had never been asked and picking up the brass-colored key. The girl next to him grabbed tightly to his arm. Her smile made the dimples in her cheeks move evident.
“That would be thirty dollars.”
“Do you take credit cards?”
The woman at the desk nodded and took the card as Richard tried to keep his balance at the desk. Sheyla seemed to be weighing him down more and more as time went
by, but a good fuck would take all worries away.
The receptionist put the card in a small terminal. The payment went through and she gave the card back to Richard, who took it with a trembling hand.
“You will find your room on the first floor. At the end of the corridor, to your left.” She kept on smiling, and would until they would turn around. “I can ask somebody to show you the way, if you prefer.”
“No, thanks,” answered Richard hurriedly.
Immediately, he and Sheyla went to the elevator that was four steps away to their left. It was elegant, with golden buttons, like the ones at those luxurious hotels that you see in movies. When they got in, the floor of the elevator sank worryingly.
“Does this happen always?” asked Richard with a smile.
She shook her head.
Richard pressed the button labeled one. They slowly went up to the first floor. The elevator was dimly lit. When they went out, the door screeched, but they didn’t even notice. The corridor was long and narrow, decorated by an endless red carpet and several lamps on the walls. Richard noticed that the decoration in the walls was weird. It looked like a carpet made out of millions of fibers linked together to create figures such as branches or trees. Was that the best they could find? The question hang on the air and they kept on going, trying to keep their balance. Her heels sank on the carpet soundlessly. They were in complete silence as they made a left. They took a couple steps forward, and they found the number thirteen in golden letters.
Richard played with the key in his hands before opening the lock, which also screeched.
This is gonna be my night, he thought as they got into the room.
6
She grabbed him by the tie and led him to the bed. He was being drawn like a dog on a leash, and he liked it. He laid on the bed, white and flawless. She joined him and smiled. There they were again, her dimples and her jade eyes.
“Tonight, I’m gonna be all yours, and I’ll make sure you are all mine,” she said as she leaned towards him to kiss him. Her tender lips contrasted with his dry, chapped lips. The French kiss was enough to make him hard.
Suddenly, she got up. Not yet, the time had not come, yet. Richard laid there panting.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she said as she turned around.
Richard had sat up on the bed with some effort, and he licked his lips before he saw something. It was an opaque, gelatinous substance stuck to the floor. A couple of inches away, he found another one. Gross, he thought, but completely forgot about it when the A+ girl came back leaning on the door frame, and winked at him. Richard smiled stupidly, showing he was missing a tooth, but he didn’t care about it anymore. Then, she got into the bathroom and closed the door. And locked it.
7
Night was quickly setting and the wind was picking up. Richard was enormously thankful for the heating in the room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, where she had left him, but missing his pants, which now were hanging on a chair next to the bedside tables. The room was dimly lit, and time went on all too slowly. He looked at his watch. Two o’clock in the morning. Where the hell was she? She had gone out forty minutes before. Richard was losing his patience, shaking his legs. His penis hung limply.
“Are you ok?” he asked a bit louder.
“Yeah,” she said in a coarser voice.
Richard frowned.
Then, the door suddenly opened and a thick curtain of smoke and fog filled the room. She was naked in front of him. Richard’s heart started beating more quickly in his chest. Her mouth was a bit more expressive than before. Huge, to put it bluntly. Her eyes shone in the dark.
“Now I’m ready for you,” she said tilting her head, and he eyes shone with a different light for a moment.
Richard started to get excited one again.
“Come here, baby,” he said nervously and tapping with his hand on the bed.
She moved her hips and showed him her pubis. Richard started to take off his underwear, and she walked towards him leaving a sticky trail behind her. Her breasts pointed upwards. The room started to fill with a strange stench, but Richard was too excited to notice.
“Look at me,” she said squeezing the skin of one of her breasts. The skin fell out and revealed a green background, oozing an opaque liquid. Then, her arms followed suit. She was peeling off her skin. Richard’s expression was even more surprised than before. She, or it, was advancing towards him as it shed more of its skin. He started screaming and she showed him some giant paws. Her mouth opened, shredding the skin in her cheeks, revealing two lines of sharp teeth. Her eyes turned red and bright like the breaking lights of a card. Her long, auburn hair fell from the balding head. All of her body had transformed.
Richard tried to shout, but she was on him, ready to make love to him, in her own special way.
Rotten Apples
The feet of the warden, both of them now, were still on the table. His boots shone too brightly for how dimly lit the room was by the torches that were behind his back on the wall.
“What a girl, huh?” asked the warden, not getting any answer. “Do you think she’s still available?”
One of the guests shrugged. It was H. P. Lovecraft, sat two seats away from the warden. Lovecraft was specially picky.
“What is it, Mr. Lovecraft?”
He moved his eyes up, and then lowered his sight.
“Ah, I get it. You are very particular about the temperature at which the room should be kept. What was it? Thirty degrees Celsius?”
The rest of the guests were now intrigued, and looked at him instinctively to be able to see him.
“Lovecraft is especially picky about temperature,” explained the warden. “Let me add some fuel to the fire,” the legs of his chair screeched.
As he did this, he started telling his next story, under the scrutiny of the guests.
“Tom loved his trees, especially his apple trees, which where a colorful spectacle when Spring came. He loved the apples and, every day, he would eat two of them. They were green and huge. One day, he was more tired than usual. It was a Spring day, and he was looking at his flowered trees just in front of the window of his room. The flowers bloomed, and Tom feels more and more tired, and his joints are stiffening. The flowers turn into small balls, the size of an olive, which would later turn into apples, but Tom would have to wait for the Summer to pass. He gets into bed, weak. He lives alone and has never gone to a doctor appointment, so he’s not going to start now. That’s how hard-headed he is. The apples grow and he notices that his body is getting stiff. Still, he can see the trees from his bed. The first roots appear in his nails. Then, they grow from his legs and arms. He wrinkles, the apples ripened. It is time to pick them up. The ones that grew from Tom’s body, too.” When he finished, he blew and the flames went up the chimney down, like the throat of a dragon.
1
Tom loved his trees. He especially loved his apple trees, and he reaped them between September and October, when the rain and the sun were ever-present. The flavor of an apple left him satisfied and happy. The bitter smell was kind of a mystical experience. Tom loved apples and he could always eat at least two of them: one in the morning and one on the afternoon. They were green and had an unusual shine to them. This year Tom would wish he had not loved his apple trees so much, or maybe he would.
It all happened the following Spring, when the trees bloomed.
2
The previous season, Tom had eaten a lot of apples, and he had felt they had been tastier than ever. They had been more bitter and they smelled better. He took very good care of them, his twelve trees in his orchard. He hated red apples, though. There are several species of apples but for him the best were his. And he said it with a strong rotundity. He told the naked walls of his house, since he lived alone, but he had his apple trees that watched them at any time of the year. He loved watching how they were covered in snow in Winter, how they bloomed in Spring, and watching the apples grow through Summer until he cou
ld pick them up in the Fall.
But in the new season something changed in his life. The apple trees prepared to give the flowers in spring, surrounded by bumblebees doing their work. And he, one morning, felt something in his body. He just felt tired. Something weak. He initially believed that it would be the flu, but after about two hours was already in shape again. He did not feel sick again.
3
Several days later, when the buds were already open and reflecting all their beauty under the hot spring sun, it happened again. Tom was leaning out of his window that offered him the spectacle of his apple trees, leaning with both hands on the wooden edge of the window, and he felt himself suddenly downcast. Tired. His face turned into a pitiful gesture and his brow wrinkled as he closed his eyes. A ringing in the ears and a slight dizziness. After this, tiredness. Exhaustion. He withdrew from the window and walked very slowly toward his bed. He sat on the edge of it and sighed deeply. Tom had more than half a century of life and less than a century. So his age was not the cause of fatigue. He was not doing anything! Only to observe and breathe deeply to the sound of the songs of the birds that settled in their apple trees. And at the top of the window. Outside, the sun kept shining and the flowers of the apple trees showing their beauty. Inside, Tom was breathing heavily. This time this effect lasted at least four hours, in which he fell asleep and rested lying on the bed, inert, with his shoes on the sheets soiling them with dirt.
When he opened his eyes the sun had settled between two mountains and it seemed that he had chosen that place to shelter behind them later, while slowly descending in a fusion of yellow and red colors, which adorned what is commonly known as the sunset Sun. Tom was already better, but he complained anyway. He got up and went to the kitchen, on the ground floor to prepare something for dinner.
That night he dreamed of the sun, the flowers and the apple trees.
The Warden of the Castle Page 3