Pus Junkies

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Pus Junkies Page 12

by Shane McKenzie


  The frame had split her mouth at the corners, busted out a lot of her teeth which floated and swam in the gurgling blood filling her mouth and spilling over the sides. Her lips looked like cooked ham and her tongue swirled in slow circles. Her eyes kept trying to roll to the back of her head, but then they locked on Chuck, quivered for a moment.

  Gurgle…choke, choke…gurgle…

  “Stop fucking laughing!”

  He slammed the frame down one more time, lodging it into her mouth, pressing down with all his weight until he felt something break and crunch under him. Her body jumped once, legs rattled, then she stopped moving. The frame stayed upright when Chuck let go of it, then he stood, slammed his fists into his forehead as the yelling got louder and louder and the door rattled in its frame.

  “Chelsea answer me! What’s going on! Who’s in there!”

  Chuck roared, stomped toward the door, unlocked it.

  When it flew open and Chuck saw the man standing there, a short, scared-looking woman clinging to his side, Chuck growled, launched himself forward.

  The man yelped when they collided, and Chuck pushed, took the man off his feet. And then the man was gone, falling and falling, the back of his head slamming against a rail on his way down to the first floor.

  Crack!

  Blood pooled around his head and spread across the floor quickly. The woman screamed, tried to run but Chuck caught her by the hair at the back of her head, dragged her across the floor only to pick her up and send her down to the first floor with the man. The woman landed on her feet, but her body folded in on itself on impact, and she lay on her side, just beside the man, screaming and screaming. The screams were sloppy and gruff, and Chuck almost ran down to make her shut up, but he went back into Chelsea’s room instead, was just about to climb back out her window and go running back to Toad. He would beg Toad for more, get on his knees and just beg.

  “Mommy?”

  The voice came from the hallway, and then there was crying. Crying and screaming.

  “Mommy! Daddy!”

  “The Toad is mine!” Chuck ran his fingernails across his eyes as he sprinted back out of the bedroom.

  ***

  Jade wept on the bedroom floor. She didn’t understand why her Toad had been so mad at her. All she wanted to do was love him, love him forever and ever. She wanted to be with him, to go back to him, to feel him inside of her.

  Not his cock…not like other boys. His soul, his essence. His fluids.

  She got back to her feet and stared at the red mess on the bed. Daddy had tried to yell at her, tried to tell her that she was a whore, a good for nothing slut who was only good at one thing and that he would show her what she was good at just like he always did.

  But Daddy can’t have her anymore. She doesn’t belong to him now. She belongs to Toad.

  She tried to find her father’s face in the pile of meat lying on the mattress, wanted to look him in the eye one last time, but she couldn’t find it.

  It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is getting back to my love.

  Blood painted her entire body, but she couldn’t tell what was Toad’s and what was her father’s anymore. She licked her arm, swallowed, but it wasn’t working, couldn’t feel the usual burst of pixie dust in her chest and stomach like she usually did.

  I need more. I have to have more.

  She knew he would understand. He wouldn’t be mad at her for needing him, for wanting him so bad. She would do anything for him, anything he wanted.

  I can’t take it. I’m coming back to you, my sweet Toad. I’m coming back to you and I don’t ever want to leave you again.

  She grabbed two handfuls of meat from the bed, felt hard bone poking her palm.

  “You can’t have me anymore. I’m all his now.”

  The balls of gore hit the wall and slapped to the floor, leaving splattered meaty patterns at the point of impact.

  Jade laughed and touched herself as she imagined being back in Toad’s presence, wrapping her body around his body, taking him in a mouthful at a time.

  ***

  Kip could feel them coming back. And he wanted them back. But it would be different this time, he’d be more careful.

  He couldn’t let them feast on him anymore. He knew that now. As good as it felt, as much as he wanted to be a buffet for them, he didn’t know if his body could take that again.

  One person at a time, just a taste.

  He could feel the pheromones twirling off his body like ghost fingers, beckoning his people back to him. And they were coming to him, he could feel them. Could taste them on the air.

  Kip sat on the bottom stair, facing the door, and he smiled, stood, walked to the door and opened it before she had to knock.

  “Hi, Jade. I’m glad you’re back.”

  “You’re not mad at me, right? I couldn’t take it if you were mad at me.” She was covered in blood, and though it was drying in places, it still glistened in the dying sunlight.

  “I’m not mad.” He pulled her in, embraced her, kissed her. Kip could tell from the smell that the blood coating her was not his or hers. He wrinkled his nose and backed away. “You need to wash that off. I don’t like it.”

  Her face screwed up and she began to cry, crumbled into a ball of flesh at his feet. Nails scraped across the arches of his feet, across his toes.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll do anything you say. Just please…please let me taste you again.”

  Kip lifted back to her feet by her wrists, kissed her again. “Here.” He popped a freshly filled pimple on his left cheekbone, left the exposed ball of pus on his face and leaned forward.

  Jade cupped the back of his head, smashed her face against him, and snorted in her fix. She started to frenzy again, searching his skin for more, but Kip pulled away, shoved her back a few steps.

  “That’s enough. Now go wash up.”

  It looked like she wanted to protest, but just nodded, eyes going soft and dreamy as the pus took effect. A small smile pulled at her mouth, and she began exploring her sticky, red body with trembling fingers, shuddering with every breath.

  “Go upstairs to the bathroom. Take a hot shower.”

  Jade nodded, tried to press her body to his, but he backed away, his heels hitting the bottom step. Jade looked hurt, but her hands still roamed her flesh, squeezed and massaged and fondled.

  Kip stepped aside, pointed up the stairs, and she followed orders, was a good girl. Dried bloody footprints still stained the stairs from earlier in the day, when his entire flock had scattered. But as she ascended, she left fresh ones, wet and sparkling.

  Kip took a long look at her ass, the way it bulged with each step. For a moment, the old Kip was back, and he couldn’t believe he was staring at Jade Brewster’s naked body in his home. And she was there for him, because she wanted him so bad. He could control her now. Had her in the palm of his hand. And though he was tempted to join her in the shower, finally get rid of the virginity that had accompanied him through life like some kind of imaginary friend, he decided to hold on to it. It didn’t matter anymore. To fuck her would be so pointless now. He would be inside of her, was already inside of her, and no penetration could ever compare to that.

  Another knock at the door. Kip had to force his eyes away from Jade’s red breasts as she spun to face the noise. Jealousy twisted her mouth and pinched her eyes, but Kip scowled at her.

  “Jade. Get in the shower. You don’t want to make me mad, do you?”

  She shook her head. “Never. But—”

  “Jaaaade.”

  “Okay.” She started to walk, then stopped momentarily. “I love you. I love you so bad.”

  “I know. Now go.”

  Kip strolled to the door, could hear them all out there, already starting to fight. He couldn’t have that anymore either. Was sick of them fighting. They would behave themselves or get nothing.

  He opened the door. They all hushed immediately and stared up at him, at their savior.r />
  They started to rush toward him like some crazed stampede, but he held up a hand and stopped them in their tracks.

  “Please, Kip. I’m begging you.” Jezebel scratched at her wrists and forearms, the skin there already red from irritation. Her eyes bounced in all directions, puffy and pink from crying.

  “I can’t take it anymore. I’ll…I’ll fucking kill myself,” Cash said as his knees hit the concrete of Kip’s patio. The boy leaned forward, resting his forehead against Kip’s feet.

  There were at least six of them there now, and more were wandering toward the house from all directions. Each of them still wearing the dried blood from earlier in the day.

  Kip lifted Cash to his feet, hugged him, patted him on the back.

  “Please,” Cash said, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry for how I treated you.” His fist flew from his side and slammed into his own left eye.

  Kip ruptured a zit on his forehead, motioned for Cash to take the custard. Cash squealed at the offering, eagerly sucked it up. The crowd grew restless, almost started shoving each other again, fighting, but Kip nudged Cash aside and glared at them. They didn’t move.

  “One at a time,” Kip said. He felt powerful. He felt like a god.

  But they didn’t look ready to cooperate. Not like before. They looked desperate, and though Kip started to yell, started to let the anger take over like before, there was no stopping them.

  Cash pounced on him from behind, pressed his mouth to the back of Kip’s neck. Then the others were on him, no longer worried about Kip, only cared about feeding their need, their addiction. Like rabid, hungry dogs on a side of beef.

  “No! I said no!”

  But they weren’t listening, were deaf to his shouting, his demands. He was on his back now, thrashing his arms and legs, twisting his face away from the mouths and teeth and tongues, but couldn’t escape them.

  And they sucked and drank and snorted him dry.

  —13—

  Zak found himself at the Grease Shack. He didn’t know where else to go, and it was one of the only familiar places in town. He thought about just driving to school, sleeping in the parking lot, but the rumbling in his stomach brought him to the burger joint.

  But once he got his cheeseburger and fries, he could only stare at it, the pangs in his belly becoming pure revulsion. The way the grease sparkled off the meat, the melted cheese running over the sides. The mayonnaise and ketchup overflowing from the soggy, soaked-through buns.

  He tossed the food into the garbage, untouched, lit a cigarette and found an alternative rock station. He needed some noise to drown out the grotesque images running amok in his mind.

  “Well that was a waste.”

  Zak’s stomach dropped at the sound of the voice, and he was sure it was going to be one of the kids from the house, one of Kip’s addicts. He balled his hands into fists before cracking his eyes open, ready to defend himself. But then he relaxed when he saw her face.

  “Gwendolyn?”

  “Hey, he remembers my name. Too bad he didn’t remember our tutoring session.”

  Zak didn’t know what else to do but smile at her. It was the furthest thing from his mind, and even when he saw her, it didn’t dawn on him until she had said something.

  “Ah shit, Gwen. It’s been a fucked up day...my head’s all over the place. I’m sorry…I mean it. I didn’t meant to—”

  “Shut up already,” she said and slugged him in the arm through the window. She wore a frown, but Zak could tell by her eyes that she wasn’t really mad. “And did you just call me Gwen? I just met you today, and you’re already shortening my name?”

  Zak shrugged, grinned. “Gwendolyn’s a mouthful.”

  “Gwen it is then. So…can I join you? I mean, unless you’re—”

  “No. I mean…yes, you can join me. Please. I could use some friendly company right now.”

  As she rounded the car toward the passenger side, Zak flicked his cigarette away, quickly checked his breath and straightened his posture. She opened the door, sat down, ran her palms over her jeans.

  “So…have you been here waiting all this time?” Zak said.

  “Please. Get over yourself, man.” Her cheeks burned bright red.

  “Well…were you?”

  She fingered a tear at the knee of her jeans, sort of snickered. Her eyes still hadn’t left her lap since she had entered the car. “Well shit. What can I say?”

  Zak laughed. “That’s sweet. Now I really feel like shit.”

  “Look…I just felt bad for you. I mean, when it comes to math…you’re kind of a retard.” She finally looked at him. Her smile was perfect.

  “No offense, but I’m not really in the mood for math.”

  “Me either. Can I ask what happened to your face? Wanna talk about it?”

  Zak had completely forgotten about his injuries. He checked the mirror, winced as his tongue prodded at the tender opening on his lip. He was again reminded that it hurt to breathe, his ribs screaming in pain. His mind had been too busy to worry about his own beaten body.

  “There’s something weird going on,” Zak said, turning in his seat so he was fully facing Gwen now. She did the same, looked like a little kid about to be read a bedtime story. “It’s Kip. I don’t know what the hell is going on…but it’s scaring the shit out of me.”

  “Kip? As in your cousin? As in Toad?”

  “Come on…out of everyone, I didn’t think you’d call him that.”

  “I don’t, I’m just saying. How can Kip scare you? He’s a nice kid…but I can’t imagine him scaring anyone.”

  Zak’s vision went blurry as he stared off into space, thinking about the kids all over Kip, moaning and screaming and fucking and laughing. The way Kip bled and bled, the sound of his voice when he got angry.

  He’s a fucking monster.

  “Zak?”

  “Huh?”

  “Lost you there for a second. Your mouth was moving but no words were coming out.”

  “Sorry.” Zak focused his vision again, but when he locked eyes with Gwen, he had to force his stare into his lap. “It’s his acne. It’s…shit. I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “His acne? I know it’s bad, but why would you be scared of it?”

  “Believe me…if you only knew the half of it, you’d be scared too. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I promise you.”

  “Then show me.”

  “What?”

  She smiled that perfect smile again, brushed her bangs out of her face. “Well, if Kip’s in trouble, I’d like to help. I don’t know him that well, but like I said, he’s a good kid. I’ve always felt sorry for him, like it’s my duty to be nice to him or something. I don’t know. I’m a weirdo like that.”

  You’re an angel is what you are.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Gwen. Trust me…you don’t want to see this. Shit, I already saw it, and if I could, I would unsee the shit out of it. I don’t even think I can make myself go back home.”

  She reached across the middle console and grabbed Zak’s hand. When Zak locked eyes with her, she blushed, moved her eyes to their hands.

  “I know I just met you, Zak. And believe me, I know how fucking corny this sounds.” She rolled her eyes and snickered.

  “Yeah? What is it?”

  “Oh god, just… Let’s just go. I want to help. Let me.”

  Zak wanted to tell her no, wanted to explain everything, but he couldn’t find the words. He could only concentrate on her hand pressed against his, her thumb moving back and forth over his skin. Their eyes met again, neither of them looking away this time, staring deep into each other. And it felt good, it felt amazing. It felt right. Like nothing Zak had ever experienced with any other girl. He felt like he’d known this girl a lot longer than a day, and for whatever reason, he felt like he could trust her. Felt like she could handle the insanity that was Kip and his…condition.

  “Okay. But I’m warning you. You won’t believe it. Even as y
ou’re looking at it…at him. You won’t believe it.”

  When her hand released his, he was filled with a strange sadness. He wanted to feel her touch again, wanted to reach over and hold her in his arms, press his mouth to hers.

  But he put one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the shift. He reversed out of the Grease Shack’s parking lot, then was heading back home. He still didn’t know what he would do when they got there, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that taking Gwendolyn there was a huge mistake, but if that’s what she wanted, he’d let her see.

  If anyone can convince Kip to get help, maybe it’s her.

  ***

  It wasn’t until the child’s legs stopped kicking that Chuck realized he’d done a bad thing. He stood, staring down at the broken, tiny body. His jaw ached from clenching his teeth.

  He recognized this boy. Chelsea’s brother? Where the fuck am I?

  It came back all at once, and he remembered what he did, almost felt bad about it until his need kicked in again, stronger than ever. He tried to calm the shakes by licking Toad’s dried blood off his skin, but it wasn’t enough, didn’t satisfy him.

  He moved away from the boy, who was bent nearly in half. Blood still leaked from his body, but slowly. Another burst of panic set in, and he hated himself for hurting the boy, for hurting Chelsea’s brother…

  Chelsea!

  He ran back to her room, collapsed beside her body. Tears and saliva dripped from his face, soaked into the gaping wound of her mouth. Chuck rested his forehead against hers, wept, held her hand in his.

  But as her cold flesh touched him, he realized it wasn’t because of her he was filled with such abyssal sadness. It was because of the absence of Kip. If he could just be with Toad again, everything would be okay, everything would be perfect.

  Now he remembered perfectly well. Chelsea had been trying to take it from him. That’s what she did. Her family too. They all got what they deserved.

  Chuck stood, stomped on Chelsea’s split head with his heel, as hard as he could. Meat squished and bone cracked, and he kept pounding down on her, screaming, muscles aching from being so tight and tense.

 

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