by Lewis Wolfe
Ethan was free now and, as he followed the pale man farther and farther into the humid void, he felt himself begin to disappear. First his thoughts faded, and then his most recent memories. Soon the void took from him all his emotions and the depths of his experiences that had shaped him into who he was. Or into who he had been.
The darkness deconstructed his identity and consumed him. Eventually, his nothingness expanded the void’s ever-increasing domain.
8
It was already dark outside when Gold stepped out of her store. The fledgling moon stood high in the sky, shrouded partially by a small, dark cloud. The stars greeted her with an indifferent twinkle, as if she should consider herself lucky that they acknowledged her presence at all.
The howling wind was fierce and blew her blonde curls into a chaotic mess. Gold thought it might rain later; her intuition told her so. The air was humid, and felt much warmer than it should have been during a windy October night.
He was here. Gold knew it. Prowling, stalking, hunting, same as he had done for centuries before now. The only thing she didn’t understand was how he had moved from the mighty oak all the way to this town. What had he attached himself to?
Gold had spent the entire afternoon cleaning her apartment and was happy to smell something other than the piercing scent of cleaning supplies. She wasn’t a natural at such domestic tasks and had bruised her body in the process, bumping into chairs and the pointy ends of her table. Still, the apartment had to be clean, had to smell fresh, because it was where she would regain her strength.
Gold’s mind was still hazy, and much of the almost two hundred years that had passed remained a foggy mystery to her.
Though her physical beauty had returned to her, when she looked at herself in the mirror she knew something was missing. Her aura, the intangible vibe around her body, was not at full strength. In her current state she could never aid her father in doing what had to be done.
She would have to hunt again. Only this time she couldn’t rely on the magic that surrounded her body. That mysterious appeal she had once had, enabling her to lure men without even so much as a word. Her eyes had always been enough, but they weren’t anymore. Not until she fed herself properly.
After Gold had cleaned the apartment she had gathered all her old granny clothes and taken them apart. From them she had made something a little more fitting for her current body and the task she had in mind. Tomorrow she would go shopping for better clothes, she promised herself. Clothes that would really flatter her tall and curvy body and make her ‘pop’ in all the right ways. For now she had to make do with the makeshift dress she sewed together. This was just a test to study the lay of the land, anyway.
What were men like now? Were they still strong and controlling? Were they still dangerous? Did they still consume the evil drink that made them mad as beasts? Gold wasn’t sure, and she felt a strange hint of excitement running down her spine as she crossed the street toward Ray’s Liquors.
Ray owned a gun, the sign in front of the bar said.
For a moment Gold wondered when she had learned to read and the thought gave her such pause that she stopped dead in her tracks. There were so many things she understood about her world without knowing where she had learned them. Were those lessons lost to the hands of time? Had only the knowledge itself remained? The idea that there were things inside her head that she couldn’t explain was somehow painful to the beautiful Gold. As if whatever agency she had as a person was taken from her by the fog inside her head.
If she didn’t know why she knew what she knew, could she claim any of it as her knowledge to begin with? What was she if she couldn’t take ownership of the things residing inside her very own head? Who was she, exactly?
She was Gold, and her job was to get back to her old self. To strengthen the magic lingering around her body and to be useful to her father. He wanted things from her and she wanted so very badly to give them to him.
Gold opened the door to Ray’s Liquors and the smell of booze mixed with sweat assaulted her delicate nose. Inside she found a depressing atmosphere, defined by the dark brown walls that barely contrasted with the slightly lighter tables and chairs. The only source of color came from the jukebox against the left wall but a sign on it said that it was out of commission.
As it was, the only sound came from a few drunks lamenting their miseries, and a small radio behind the bar playing a delicate jazz.
The door closing behind Gold was enough reason for the men to look up from their half-empty glasses. Her appearance immediately changed the depressing mood in the bar, with Gold’s sweet scent fending off the choking atmosphere.
Gold looked around and saw five men scattered around the establishment. Two older men were sitting at the bar, while another sat by himself at a table in the most distant corner of the room. The fourth leaned over a pool table and tried to play a game against himself, hindered quite rudely by the alcohol inside his system.
Behind the bar stood the only man who had bothered to shave. His bald head made it harder to estimate his age, but the wrinkles around his eyes gave Gold a clue all the same. He was slightly shorter than she was, but his core was very well built and his shoulders looked strong.
The man said, “Can I help you, sweetheart? Are you lost?”
Gold approached the bar and took a seat. “No, not lost. Just looking for some friendly company.”
The man smiled and gestured into the open air. “Not too much company here, I’m afraid.”
“Slow night, then?” she asked.
“It’s still early. The weekends get busier.”
Gold nodded and tried a smile on the man to see what kind of effect it would have. He was kind to her, but she sensed that it was a professional courtesy. She wanted to see how much more she could get from him.
“I’m Ray,” he offered. “Can I get you something, sweetheart?”
“A glass of wine would be nice.”
Gold heard herself say it. Wine. What even was wine? Was it tasty? Had she had it before? Why had her lips asked for wine if she couldn’t even remember what it was?
“Only got white right now, is that okay?”
“White is fine.”
Apparently white was fine. As opposed to what? Were there other colors that she could pick from? Gold’s lips spoke of things her mind could not recall, but in this dark and depressing bar apparently those words made perfect sense.
Gold watched as Ray took out a dark green bottle and popped the cork. Then he placed a glass in front of her and poured the wine.
The glass was different from the ones the men in the bar had. Its opening was far wider and where she had to hold it much thinner. Gold immediately knew it was a wine glass, though she had no idea where the knowledge came from.
Carefully she held the glass to her nose and smelled the substance inside of it. The scent was very sweet at first, but Gold sensed that there was something hiding underneath it. Not unlike herself, the first impression was dangerous and if you came too close, things could go sour very quickly.
Alcohol. The word popped into Gold’s head as she put the glass down again. This was alcohol, and alcohol was what made the evil drink. Yet the scent was familiar to her and she knew then and there that she had consumed it before.
Had she too gone mad from it? Had she too become a beastly abomination beyond all self-control, just as her mother had warned her all those long years ago?
Ray said, “It’s not the finest wine you’ll ever have, but it’ll pass. Don’t worry about it.”
One of the drunks at the bar said, “Can’t you see, goddammit? She’s way too sophisticated for your cheap shit! Give her some of the good stuff!”
Ray sneered, “This is my good stuff!”
Gold smiled at the men, her lips much more strained from the nerves than she wanted them to be. Then she picked up the glass again and felt a horrible fear pulse through her body. Could she really drink this? What would happen? Should she run away in
stead? She could never come back if she did, and this was probably the best place to hunt.
She opened her mouth the tiniest bit and allowed some of the wine to enter. Its sweet taste tickled her tongue, seducing her into believing no harm could befall her. It was just wine; millions of people drank it, and she would be alright.
Gold swallowed it and half-expected to go crazy on the spot. The evil drink could begin to speak its filthy lies to her at any moment. She had consumed it, so there was no way for her to resist its touch of insanity.
Nothing happened, however, and, seduced by the drink’s sweet taste, Gold soon took another sip.
9
Gold’s body had known a man’s touch before, but she herself could not remember it. That was why she felt so little control now, as the two of them fumbled around inside her store.
Rough hands on her hips, clinging to her breasts, reaching for her neck. These sensations were all so very overwhelming and Gold had difficulty focusing on what she actually had to do. On why she had lured this perfect stranger back to her place to begin with.
The warm feeling that ran from her groin all the way to her belly was numbed slightly by the quantity of wine she had consumed. The stuff really went to your head.
The stranger’s name was Ralph, or Ron, or something with an ‘R’ at least, Gold thought. He had told her but she couldn’t remember and it all felt so very irrelevant. Nothing mattered against the backdrop of her body slowly imploding on itself. The only thing she wanted was relief, and Ralph, or Ron, would have to provide it for her.
“Come on,” she said as she took his hand. “Upstairs. Let’s go upstairs.”
She led him to her apartment on the second floor.
While she struggled to unlock the door Ralph’s hands were all over her again, pulling her closer against his groin. She could feel the firmness of his instrument and almost allowed herself to forget about the door. Why not just do it right here?
No. She couldn’t. She had to go inside. They had to go inside or else all of this was for nothing.
Gold felt relieved when she finally heard the door unlock and quickly pushed herself inside. The man holding on to her almost lost his balance as she moved away from him.
“Whoa… easy there, Margaret! We got all night, baby….”
Margaret was the only real name she knew so when the men at the bar had asked her who she was, that was all she could think to say. Her grandmother had passed away and she was taking over the store; that part of the story she had concocted before going to the bar.
Gold turned around and grabbed Ralph’s rough hands. Quickly she pulled him inside and closed the door behind her. He was here now and there was no way he would ever leave.
Ralph’s intentions were once again made clear when he pushed her up against the wall and leaned in to kiss her neck. His lips were dry but Gold didn’t care. A man’s body pressed so closely against her own sent shivers down her spine. The scent of his sweat almost made her go crazy with desire.
Was this normal? Gold’s mind wandered briefly whenever Ralph stopped kissing her to gasp for air. She couldn’t recall ever feeling like this but somehow all of it made sense to her body. As if this silly vessel of flesh and blood knew things that her mind would never be able to grasp.
Gold pushed Ralph away from her and slipped by him. As she did so she threw him a playful smile.
“Come on. The bedroom!”
It was all she could do to keep control. Maintain a distance, even if it was a short one, so she could collect her thoughts. There was a reason she had brought him here. Gold couldn’t let her body interfere with those plans. They were too important to lose herself to whatever felt good.
Ralph followed her into the bedroom and began to undress himself. He had a beer belly but his muscles were toned from the physical labor he did at Brooks Mechanical.
When he took his underwear off Gold saw the instrument that she had previously felt riding up against her. It was bigger than she had imagined it would be. How could such a hard thing hide inside a man’s pants without ripping through?
Gold took off her dress and laid bare her amazing body. Her long, lean legs were muscular without losing their femininity and her abs were well defined. On her chest rested two big breasts that were perfectly symmetrical, her small nipples pointing almost directly forward.
Gold watched Ralph approach her and, when he was close enough, she took him and pushed him onto the bed. She climbed on top of him and again she realized that her body knew things her mind was not privy to.
Without effort she took his instrument and slid it inside of her. She just knew where it had to go and how best to sit so it would fit comfortably for her.
Slowly she grinded up and down, relishing the feeling of a man entering her. Though she couldn’t remember, Gold was almost sure that she had felt this before. This burning warmth that left a tingling sensation in her groin.
The longer they went, the hotter she got and the faster she felt her body moving. Gold’s breath was heavy and the sweat running down her back somehow turned her on even more.
In an intense embrace they grinded each other toward an explosion of warmth and relief. The feeling was so powerful that, for a moment, Gold lost her mind to it. Briefly she had no more thoughts at all. There was only the climax that screamed through her skull, and that she forced out into the air.
Panting, they lay on the bed together, Gold still on top of him. She felt how he put one hand on her shoulder, while using the other to play with her hair.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered softly.
Those words were warm and heartfelt, Gold knew, and they made her feel very good about herself. To have this strong man’s approval and appreciation was wonderful, but there was only one man she truly wanted to please. So Ralph’s words drove her toward the final conclusion of the night.
With a sigh she leaned over the edge of the mattress and reached for the butcher’s knife she had hidden underneath the bed. The knife was still rusty, but Gold knew that it would easily get the job done.
With a swift movement she threw herself back onto Ralph and stabbed his throat. Blood exploded from the open wound and covered Gold’s face and breasts.
She kept stabbing him until no more blood came out and his eyes sank back into their sockets. The life left his body and dark red stains marked Gold’s naked skin.
Exhausted, she lay down for a moment, her head pressed up against Ralph’s chin and soaking in the blood that dripped tediously from his throat.
She dreaded the part that came next. Black had always been very good at cutting them up so they could prepare them. Now she had to do it all herself and she would probably make a horrible mess of things.
CHOCOLATE MILK
1
(June 1, 2018)
Roger Wheeley was a man obsessed. The raging erection he had right now, lying next to his overweight fiancée in their large bed, proved it. He couldn’t get his mind off her and he had no desire to. His plans had worked out perfectly, and the rewards, well… they belonged to him.
When he had first seen the girl with her pale blue eyes and tanned skin, he knew he had to have her. She had been so exquisitely beautiful and youthful that he hadn’t even tried to control himself.
She was the daughter of his secretary, Stella, and she had visited her mother at work from time to time. Her energy had always filled the otherwise stale office and brought smiles to the faces of serious, hardworking people left and right.
To Roger Wheeley she had been more than that. She had been a forbidden fruit that was begging to be tasted. Just a nibble and, if it proved to be as sweet and fresh as it looked, a big and greedy bite.
There had been a time, earlier in his life, when he would have checked himself under the heavy weight of morality. That time had long passed and it would never come back. The fifty-year-old man had decided he wanted the young teenager and he would get her. Urges were to be indulged, Roger Wheeley always told himself
.
As partner with one of the biggest law firms in Cleveland, he knew what he could safely get away with and what was going too far. He had needed a plan for any of this to work out the way he wanted it to.
Seducing his secretary had been easy enough. A lonesome single mother going nowhere in life. Her job working for him would likely be the pinnacle of her miserable career. Slightly overweight and with poor fashion sense, she would have been hard-pressed to find a man interested in her.
Roger Wheeley had acted as if he was interested in her. Had touched her shoulder a little too long, snuck glances to her across the room, asked her to stay late even if the work was done.
If he wanted access to the girl, he had to first own her mother. Fucking the slightly overweight woman hadn’t been his favorite thing, though she tried her hardest to please him. Stella had offered him positions, and holes, that few other women ever had. He usually found himself forcing the issue.
Roger Wheeley had proposed to her in the summer of 2017, on a star-filled night, in the backyard belonging to his large house. A house far too large for just one man, he had told her. Wouldn’t she come move in with him? Of course her daughter was welcome too! He had promised that he would treat the girl as his own flesh and blood.
Now he lay with that unattractive woman in his oversized bed, wondering how such an ugly thing could give birth to the delight sleeping across the hall. The girl probably had her father’s genes. The random black guy that had pumped and dumped mother dearest had been right to do so. The piece of lard wasn’t good for much else.
Sweet little Ellie with her pale blue eyes and tanned skin. That skin was so soft it was almost criminal, Roger thought as he rubbed the head of his dick.
He had first visited her in October last year. Roger remembered the moment so vividly that the recollection almost triggered an orgasm.
He had snuck out of his room, tiptoed across the hallway, and gently opened the door to her forbidden bedroom. The girl had been sleeping when he sat down next to her on her mattress, gently caressing her forehead. He had pulled down the covers until her shoulders and fledgling breasts appeared, curves that were still forming. Curves that he would be the first to touch.