#MWBB 43 : Heartbeats

I met Rachel in the produce department of the grocery store. I was picking out my weekly supply of fruit. mangoes, kiwis, papaya, plums, pears, apples. She asked how to pick out a good papaya, and if kiwifruit was good to eat. “You have to peel them, right?”

“No. Cut them in half, and scoop the fruit out.”

We had Mochas in the store’s Starbucks café. She had the prettiest green eyes I’d ever seen. We talked about fruit. It surprised me when she asked me to help her make a fruit salad. “I got volunteered to bring a fruit salad to the office party tomorrow, and I have no idea what to do.”

Of course, I said I’d help.

We picked out a pineapple, four different types of apples, bananas, grapes, and cherries. We added a bag of coconut, and a few other odds and ends, then checked out, and went to her place.

We washed the fruit, sliced it, and mixed it together, stirring in the coconut, a touch of sugar (not much), and the other ingredients. She asked me to show her how to cut the pineapple. Then she tried to cut it. I wound up standing behind her, looking over her shoulder, my hands guiding hers, teaching her to slice up the apples and bananas.

When we finished the salad, she asked if I’d like a drink, as a reward for all the help. We wound up downing half a bottle of Cabernet Blanc. “You’re not in any condition to drive. Sleep here tonight.” Well, you know how it goes. We woke up naked, in her bed.

We met for dinner the next night, and I stayed at her place again. She was a work of art, with curves in all the right places. It was like my hands had to move all over her. All the rules dropped away, and we went crazy.

Rachel was my fantasy woman. The one that does everything you want, and begs you for more. The one with no rules. No limits. No taboos.

I loved every square inch of her. And when I ran out of things to try, she made suggestions.

Only an idiot would have said no.

Oh, I knew it wouldn’t last. Each morning, I expected her to say, “Don’t come back. Don’t call me.” Each morning she didn’t, I went through my day imagining all the sex we’d have that night. All the things we’d try.

It lasted ten nights. The first nine night were sheer bliss. Ecstasy. I slept exhausted, in her bed, holding her naked body. My hands on her perfect breasts.

The tenth night, as we reached her place, she looked up at the sky. “The sun will set soon, won’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Lets not wait.”

She pulled me inside, shut the door, and we got naked right there, screwing in the foyer as the sun set, and night replaced day. When we finished, she pulled me to the TV room. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“What are you up to?”

“It’s a surprise.” She gave me this sly look, and licked her lips.

My brain cells screamed at me, “Yes! Oh, this is gonna be good! This is gonna be fun! I can’t wait to find out what she’s planning!”

While I waited for her to come back, I watched the moon rise through the patio door. A full moon. Full moons were always beautiful. That one was no different. I heard her come back into the room, but I didn’t turn from the window. “Come over here and surprise me,” I encouraged her.

That’s when I felt her claws sink into my back, followed by her teeth sink into my neck. I couldn’t breathe, as she lowered me to the floor. She surprised me, alright, as she stood on her hind feet, stared at the moon, and howled.

Then, she turned back to me, and sunk her claws into my chest.

I’d always known my fling with Rachel would end badly. I’d always known my heart would be torn apart when she said, “We’re through.” I just never imagined she’d literally rip it out and eat it.

697 Words
@LurchMunster


This is my entry for week 43 of Jeff Tsuruoka‘s Mid-Week Blues-Buster flash fiction challenge. Please, go read the other stories in the challenge.

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A Clip From My #NaNoWriMo Work In Progress

[Author’s Note – If you find extreme acts of violence, and descriptions of such acts, disturbing, don’t read this.

What follows is a clip from my Work In Progress, being written for NaNoWriMo 2013. This work has been difficult for me to write. It contains extreme levels of violence, and touches on topics that greatly disturb me.

After several people expressed interest in the story, I decided to share a small clip.]

Frank grabbed Jessica’s hand, “Run!”

They did. But it was no use. The three men rapidly caught up to them. One grabbed Jessica’s arm, yanking her to a stop. Frank turned, and charged at that man. The other two men attacked Frank, striking him in the face, and chest. They quickly overwhelmed him.

Jessica didn’t know if Frank was alive or dead. At the least, she knew he was hurt. She felt fire ignite in her soul. She felt it raced through her blood. She dropped the bag she was carrying, turned, screamed, and struck at the face of the man holding her. She kept her fingernails extended. They tore into his skin, leaving long tracks as they ran down his cheek.

She screamed again, and kicked him, with everything she had, right in his male parts. He lifted off the ground, bellowed in pain, his hands letting go of Jessica’s arm as he reached for his injured crotch and doubled over, howling in pain.

The other two men circled her. “Oh. We got us a tough filly here, don’t we?”

“Yessir. We got a tough bitch here.” They separated, one on each side of her, knowing there was no way she could fight both of them. They were ready for her now. Not like the man she’d taken down. He hadn’t expected her to fight. The two men circling her were ready. There was no surprising them.

Jessica bared her teeth in a nasty snarl, so resembling of a wolf’s snarl, the men hesitated. Making a low growl, she turned from one to the other, waiting. Quickly, eagles filled the sky, circling. They waited. They did not intervene. They waited. They knew. She was finding her fire. Her strength. Her soul.

She was remembering who she truly was.

With no sound at all, she leaped toward the man to her left. He countered by leaping at her, his arms drawn back, beginning to swing. The other man started toward the two of them.

Jessica hurled herself toward the man, easily ducking past his wildly swinging arms, extending her fingers like wolf claws, and raking them across the mans neck, drawing blood. Lots of blood. Her nails torn, her own fingers bleeding, she ignored the wounded man, and turned toward the third member of the group.

He wrapped his arms around her, lifted her off the ground as he kept running. They collided with the side of a house. Jessica felt her shoulder separate. She felt her ribs crack. The man bounced off her, dropping her to the ground.

The pain fueled her fire. She kicked with her legs, her feet connecting with one of his knees. She heard the sounds of tearing tendons and ligaments. She heard him howl in pain, and watched him fall to the ground, his hands clasping his knee.

Jessica struggled to her feet. She went back to the bag, and found a hammer. She turned back toward the men.

The three men fled. Staggering. One holding his neck, trying to keep his blood inside his body. She’d torn the veins on the side of his neck with her fingernails. The one with the destroyed knee hopped along, desperately trying to flee. The third tried to walk, but was still doubled over from the torture between his legs.

Jessica hunted them down. She swung the hammer, like a sword. She struck the head of the man with the broken knee, right behind his left ear. The hammer sunk in, with a sickening cracking noise. The man fell, his body twitching.

She caught the man with the wounded crotch next. Planting the hammer in his left eye, like she was hitting a baseball with a bat. He pitched over backward, limply falling to the ground, not moving.

She swung the clawed end of the hammer at the neck of the third man. The claws sank into his neck, and she yanked, as hard as she could, using all her body weight. The hammer tore loose, and the man’s blood gushed out. He collapsed to the ground, his hands clasping his destroyed neck, his life blood spurting out, spreading rapidly around him.

She returned to the first two men, and made certain they were dead. She watched the third stop moving as his blood stopped flowing.

The eagles in the sky circled the scene. As they did, they screamed, declaring to the world, she was remembering who she was. She was finding her heart, and soul.