Archive for July, 2012


City Boy, Hustler


After a fevered night of typing, I bring to you today’s post.
Do enjoy.
Like I care if you don’t. -_-
Kidding.
Or am I? -_-

———————————————————————–

He woke up disgruntled.
The heat was killing.
He sighed and rolled to his back on the hard bed, wincing in distaste. He folded his beefy arms around his head and stared lazily at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan rotating slowly before they came to a stop.
He hissed under his breath, mumbling curses at the country’s power supply company. He maintained his position for a moment, staring at nothing in particular, noting the specks of dust on the fan, wondering if it has ever seen a rag.
His stomach then chose to rumble, breaking him out of his reverie. He mumbled another string of even more colourful curses and pushed himself up. He sat on the bed for a little while, turning his slightly thick neck sideways to ease the tension in his neck muscles. His stomach rumbled again, as if in reminder and sighing, he got out of bed.
He stumbled on a sleeping body on the floor and let out a short expletive as he managed to regain his balance.
“Idiot!” he muttered furiously and delivered a well-aimed kick at the body before leaving, hardly listening to the mumbled sleepy complaints coming out of the confines of the cloth.
He walked to the kitchen and opened the white standing fridge.
It barely had anything edible in it.
He sighed and turned to the gas cooker. There was a pot half opened on it, table top littered with grains of rice. He smiled and walked to the rack that had plates at a corner and picked a ceramic plate. He walked back to the pot and opened.
It was empty.
“Oooooh!” he grumbled, slamming the pot cover back on and throwing the empty plate on the floor in anger.
“Ah Ahn! Who don break plate for that kitchen!” a voice angrily yelled from the living room.
He kicked at the bigger  pieces of the broken plate and gingerly stepped over the smaller ones. He had no plans to clean up. If anyone stepped on them and got injured, good for them.
Growling angrily, he walked to the living room where his house mate, Fredo, sat.
“Mace so na you dey break plate! What’s wrong with this nigga! You think you’re in your father’s house?” Fredo said between mouthfuls, pointing angrily at Mace with a spoon.
Mace stared at his skinny frame, clad in a white shirt and washed out jeans.
“Dude why didn’t you leave food for me!”
Fredo eyed him and suddenly laughed.
“This boy sef! That’s why you’re breaking Presido’s plates. Oya come we can share mine. Go bring spoon come.”
Mace walked to Fredo and snatched the plate of food out of his hand.
“You’ve eaten enough.”
He collected the spoon out the shocked hands of Fredo and began shovelling jollof rice into his mouth. Fredo snapped back to present and stood up angrily.
“E be like say you take crase wake up this evening Mace! Why will you collect the food I’m eating! It’s like your mother did not teach you manners abi?”
Mace paused and turned to him. His glare shut up Fredo.
“Don’t mention my mother dude.”
Fredo stammered and huffed. “Ehn! Is..Is that not why your father disowned you? Better gaan beg your rich papa to take you back and stop eating our food here!”
Mace advanced menacingly towards him and Fredo backed down instinctively.
“Presido!” he shouted. “Come warn Mace o!”
Mace eyed him and suddenly chuckled. He sat down on the lumpy sofa, cursing it for its lumpiness.
A second later, another man entered into the living room. Fredo went to stand beside him.
Mace paused from his eating to stare at the heavily muscled Presido.
“I was eating and this your boy Mace snatched the food from me” Fredo said.
Presido chuckled and shook his head “Mace boy, you need a job. You need to let off some steam.”
Mace mumbled and continued eating. Presido turned to Fredo “Dude no worry just go clean the kitchen. I’ll buy you a big bottle of Black”
Fredo huffed and mumbled “Every time you go just dey treat Mace like say him be King. Just sake of say na butter kid wey fine small…”
“My friend shut up” Presido growled and Fredo’s mouth clamped shut. Without waiting for further words, he went to the kitchen.
Presido sat down and sighed. “But Mace you gats chill sometimes. This your stubbornness shouldn’t be a problem here o.”
Mace effected a contrite look, even though his lips were curved in a sneer.
Presido shook his head at his goose, laying him golden eggs.
After Mace’s arrival, his business booming. Mace was his prime Runz boy but he had to admit, the boy’s temper was an issue he’d soon have to deal with. There should be ways of fucking him up a little without spoiling his good looks.
Mace dropped his plate and relaxed, or tried to anyway, on the sofa.
“Look Prezz I know what you thinking. I’m a handful. Just sometimes I get bloody frustrated with this whole thing you know! This life is kinda rough and It does take some getting used to. If my bloody asshole of a father wasn’t so uptight  and annoying with his strictness, I won’t be here and you  know that. Plus I know I’ve made more money for you that those girls you play pimp to.”
Presido said nothing, watching unblinkingly and Mace squirmed a little at his scrutiny.
“Mace…” Presido said and suddenly laughed.
He brought out a Blackberry from his pocket.
“You’ve got a client. Number two. Code name, Dave. He’ll be at the Oriental Hotel for 8pm. He’s paid his deposit. Would forward the details to you.”
Mace nodded, smiling. Finally.
Some action.
Presido started to walk away and stopped, turning “You better be good. This one smells boxed up. He might give you a tip.”
“No worries”
Presido nodded his head and walked off.
Mack brought out his phone and checked the time.
6.54pm.
He needed to start getting ready.
Smiling, he got up and walked back to his room.
Quickly, he donned his finest suit he had managed to take out of the house before his father had unceremoniously kicked his butt out.
He prepped himself up in front of the mirror and satisfied, he smiled seductively at his reflection.
The reason he made so much money for Presido wasn’t just because of his good looks. He was the only guy in Presido’s employ that was ready to service other men. And other men sure did pay well to get their services.
He had no scruples.
He associated Morality with his parents and wanted no part of it. They could go stick their religious beliefs up their butts for all he cared. While he stuck his…beliefs up another guy’s..
He grinned at the thought.
His phone buzzed and he checked to see the details Presido had sent.
Ready, he left the house.

He arrived at the restaurant where he was supposed to be meeting his ‘client’ and walked in, expertly surveyed the room, looking for Code Name: Dave.
He was looking out for a man, he didn’t have an age to go with, sitting alone, probably drinking alone, looking awkward and fidgety.
His eyes hovered from his vantage position until he spotted the man that fit the bill.
His jaws unhinged for a second.
Suddenly he smiled.
Wearing his thick, dark shades around his face, he walked up to a 60-something year old looking man and sat down, unasked.
“Dave” Mace said in a gruff voice.
The man stared at him and nodded. “You’re Mace? You come highly recommended.”
Mace smiled slightly and nodded.
“What hotel are we booked for?”
The man smiled “Drinks first. You must be thirsty.”
He winked and Mace smiled in return.
He watched as the man called the attention of a waiter and without asking him, ordered for another bottle of wine.
Mace looked at the expensive wristwatch on his wrist that jingled as he gesticulated and smiled to himself. He saw the man had no wedding ring on, though the indention of a wedding band was still on his finger.
Mace’s smile widened.
“You have a beautiful smile” the man said as the waiter walked off.
Mace nodded his thanks and the man smiled.
“Why not take off your glasses? We’re indoors. Or is it one of the latest fads with you guys now? I can’t keep up!”
Mace smiled. “Take it off?”
The man nodded. “Yea.”
Mace smiled again. “Sure?”
The man’s brows furrowed. “Yea..sure”
Mace nodded and grinning evilly,he removed his shades.
A laugh escaped his mouth at the indrawn breath of the man before him.
“Mason!”
Mace…Mason smiled.
“Hello Daddy. Chief David Akinbalogun. Dave. Fancy seeing you here.”
He threw his head back and laughed at the stunned, fearful expression on his father’s face.
“I’m guessing Mummy doesn’t know about your…soliciting. Yes?”
His father gulped, eyes wide, gasping.
The waiter came at that moment with the bottle and Mason smiled at him
“A glass of water please. Someone would be needing it.”
The waiter nodded and left.
He watched his father squirm, hands shaking.
“Ma..Mason…”
Mason chuckled.
“To think that you were my next client? Amazing!”
His father coughed, looking around helplessly; looking anywhere but at Mason.
“You kicked me out of your bloody house because I was ‘too violent’. ‘A drop-out’. ‘A drug user’.
Mason smiled, his eyes twinkling in delight.
“So Daddy, it seemed I won’t be coming back home over your dead body as you predicted.”
His father said nothing, head bowed.
“It seems you would be telling Mummy her son is coming back home. Or I would be telling her an interesting story about her husband…”
His father sighed and put his hands on his head. “How much do you want?” he mumbled.
“Old man, chill. Let’s drink our wine before we discuss business. You and I are in for a ride of our lives” Mason said, mocking, wiping tears of mirth out of his eyes.
“Damn..” he said softly, bringing his phone out of his pocket, grinning. “Today just got interesting..”
He sent Presido a quick text.

“Seems I’ve hit the JACKPOT”

His father wiped a tear rolling down out of the corner of his eye.

———————————————————————————————

Hehehehe!!!

Special Announcement


HEY!
No, this isn’t a story.
I just realised that Phantompages is a year and 4 days old today.
Wow!
It’s been 369 days since i opened this blog.
This is a special thank you to everyone who’s helped me come this far.
All my guest writers: Dionysus, Newton, Edwin, Titaenium, Count Oblivion, St. Gothica, Joe Jawfu, Kenny, My twinnie Grey Genesis, Joseph Parker, Tic Tac Foe and Joshua Lean. This is a thank you for all the contributions you all have made here. I enjoyed working with and hosting you all here and I hope we can do it again this year!

To my readers, I’ll mention names but that would mean forgetting some people. I know you all.
This is a heart-felt thank you. The encouragement brought this blog this far. The comments, the likes, the wash, the marriage proposals (ahem -_-).
Thank you.

To other writers, whose works have inspired me, thank you. More ink to your pens.

This is another special thank you To the following people:
Ekwe, Edwin, Betty.
For allowing me bombard your mail boxes with some of my stuff.
Ekwem, thank you very much for Invasion. You helped it become one of my favorite babies.
Edwin, oh Eddie. Where do I start? Our children speak for us. I love you! :*
Betty! Berry! Lol. Thanks for wanting me on board the Decades II project. And also, the recent helps and recommendations. You’re a gem.

Lastly, Preying Mantis.
You’re still an ass but you’re a good ass. And I love big asses. You got a big ass? 😀 *wink*

That is all really.
Do check out today’s post, Ruqya.

Arigatou Gozaimasu mina san!

image

Ruqya


Hey!
Phantompages here.
First, I’ll start with an apology to everyone. I should have talked about the handover of the blog HERE. Many didn’t know about my giving this blog to Eddie. Got tired of people complimenting me, thinking the recent posts were my write ups. Lol. They weren’t.
I hit a bad patch and had to step back.
Started blogging because I enjoyed writing first, and I wanted to share my work with people, second. I think I lost track of that. I put myself under a pressure of writing to please the readers. Forgot what it was like to write for the fun of it, good or bad. I became too obsessed with creating a perfect story. There are no perfect stories. I forgot this.  So, I had to step back.
A special thank you to Edwin who helped me keep the blog alive (even though he threatened to flog me for almost deleting the blog 😥 ).
Yes, I almost deleted the blog. What? It’s mine. 😛
We love you Eddie san! :* :*

If you’re still reading this and have not jumped to the story, good! I like people like you 😀
This story was written for me. It’s not perfect. It probably can’t be compared to some of what I’ve written. But it struck a chord within me as I wrote. I hope it does the same to you. If it doesn’t, maybe my next story would.
Be patient.

Enough talking, let’s dig in!
🙂

*****************************************************************

“…But i need to confirm from the Church first, Mrs. Jacques.”
She sobbed. “Padre s’il vous plait! Please! He’s only five. My only son. Please Father..”
He sighed. Sometimes doing the right thing wasn’t always the best option.
He got up from his seat and walked to the kneeling woman.
“It is ok Mrs. Jacques. I will do it” he said, helping her stand.
“Padre… Merçi! Merçi!”
He nodded absently. “Yes, yes. First, I must determine if he really needs one. Shall I call at your house tomorrow?”
She nodded vigorously, thin grey hair flopping on her pale, tears-streaked face.
“Come see him tomorrow”

—————————————————————-

“I will perform one but it would have to be in the night.”
“Yes Father”
“The things that would be needed, do get them Mr. Jacques.”
“I will”
“And Mrs. Jacques, do calm yourself down. You’ll be of no help in this condition.”
“I’ll try Father”
“Good. May God be with you two.”

—————————————————————–

“Lord have mercy..”
“Lord have mercy..”
“Christ have mercy..”
“Christ have mercy..”

Soft laughter..

“God, the Father in Heaven..”
“Have mercy on us..”
“God the Son, the Redeemer of the World..”
“Have mercy on us..”
“God, The Holy Spirit..”
“Have mercy on us..”
“Holy Trinity, One God..”
“Have mercy on us..”
“Holy Mary, pray for us..”
“Pray for us..”
“All Holy Saints..”
“Intercede for us..”

Soft Laugh..

“Be Merciful..”
“Spare us Oh Lord..”
” Our Father who are in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation,
“But deliver us from evil..”

Soft Laugh..
Choked sobs.

Save your servant..”
“Who trusts in you, my God..”

“Trust? Indeed..

“Let him find in you, Lord, a fortified tower..”
“In..in the face of the enemy..”

I’m no enemy.

“Let the enemy have no power over him..”
“And the son of iniquity be powerless to harm him..”
Save him please Lord; save him..
“We must complete the prayer Mrs. Jacques. Mr Jacques please, make sure she.. ”
“Yes Father please continue..”

Yes Father, please continue..
Harsh laugh.. 

“Lord, send him aid from your holy place..”

Father..Father..Papa.. 

“And watch over him from Zion..”

Mama..Mama it hurts.. Mama! It hurts!

“Hold her! She must not go near him!”
“Vittoria! Calmez-vous! For Pierre”
“We must continue the prayer! Lord, heed my prayer!”
“And…and let my cry be heard by you..”

MAMA! THEY’RE HURTING ME MAMA! STOP THEM!

“Holy Lord, almighty Father, everlasting God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who once and for all consigned that..”

CUNTS! Papa! FUCKING IDIOTS! Mama help!

“..fallen and apostate tyrant to the flames of hell, who sent your only-begotten Son into the world to crush that roaring lion; hasten to our call for help and snatch from ruination and from the clutches of the noondayDevil this human being made in your image and likeness..”

Papa! Mama! 

“Strike terror, Lord, into the beast now laying waste your vineyard. Fill your servants with courage to fight manfully against that reprobate dragon, lest he despise those who put their trust in you, and say with Pharaoh of old: “I know not God, nor will I set Israel free.”

Harsh Laughter..

“Let your mighty hand cast him out of your servant, Pierre Jacques, so he may no longer hold captive this person whom it pleased you to make in your image..”

Paedophile! Wanna suck my cock Father? My cock is small, just the way you like it Father! Mama!

“..whom..whom it pleased y..you to make in your image, a.and to re..redeem through your Son; who..who lived..lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever..”

Amen Father!

“Say Amen! Do not be distracted! Don’t listen to him!”
“A..Amen..Pie..rre..”

Amen cock sucker!

“I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, along with all your minions..”

You command nothing Padre! Remember Father Downing? He says hello!

“..now attacking this servant of God, by the mysteries of the incarnation, passion, resurrection, and ascension of our  Lord..”

Father Downing says he misses your sweet mouth! Did you enjoy sucking him off Father? Will you suck me Father..Father..Papa..Papa! Mama! It hurts! It hurts!

“..OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, BY THE DESCENT OF THE HOLY..”

IT HURTS! IT HURTS! FUCK ME FATHER! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO! AM I TOO YOUNG FOR YOU?

“BY THE COMING OF OUR LORD FOR JUDGEMENT, THAT YOU TELL ME BY SOME SIGN YOUR NAME, THE DAY AND THE HOUR OF YOUR DEPATURE..”

I AM YOUR BEGINNING AND YOUR END! I AM THEIR NIGHTMARE! Mama! Mama! He’s hurting me!

“Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Aie pitié!”
“I COMMAND YOU MOREVER TO OVEY ME BY THE LETTER, I WHO AM A MINISTER OF GOD DESPITE MY UNWORTHINESS..”

VERY UNWORTHY! YOU STEAL! YOU LUST! STOP LOOKING AT THE WOMEN’S BREASTS YOU LECHER! YOU LIKE HIS MOTHER! YOU WANNA FUCK HER TOO YEAH? UNWORTHY! FATHER..FATHER..PAPA! MAMA! STOP HIM! HE’S HURTING ME! HE’S HURTING ME! SHUT UP YOU MITE! THIS VESSEL…MAMA! MAMA!

“DESPITE MY UNWORTHINESS; NOR SHALL YOU BE EMBOLDENED TO HARM IN ANY WAY THIS CREATURE OF GOD, OR THE BYSTANDERS, OR ANY OF THEIR POSSESSIONS!”

MAMA! DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! MAMA! 

“Hold her! Don’t let her go to him!”
“PIERRE! MON DIEU!”
“VITTORIA!”

MAKE ALL THE SIGNS OF THE CROSS YOU WANT FATHER! YOU ARE WEAK! YOU ARE WEAK!

“SEE THE CROSS OF THE LORD! BEGONE YOU HOSTILE POWERS! I ADJURE YOU! ANCIENT SERPENT”

YOU ADJURE NOTHING! TAKE MY ASS FATHER! IT’S WHITE! ITS MILKY!

“BY THE JUDGE OF THE LIVING AND THE DEAD, BY YOUR CREATOR, BY THE CREATOR OF THE WHOLE UNIVERSE, BY HIM WHO HAS THE POWER TO CONSIGN YOU TO HELL!”

THIS WORLD IS MY HELL! THIS BODY IS MY HOME!

“He’s breaking free Father!! What should I do!”
“Hold him down! Be his father! Don’t let him be free!”

PAPA! PAPA! PAPA! YOU’RE HURTING ME! YOU’RE HURTING ME! MAMA! PAPA IS HURTING ME! FUCKING CUNT DO SOMETHING YOU BITCH! 

“DON’T LISTEN TO HIM! DEPART FORTHWITH IN FEAR, ALONG WITH YOUR SAVAGE MINIONS, FROM THIS SERVANT OF GOD..”

MAMA HE’S HURTING ME! PAPA IS HURTING ME!

“THAT IS NOT YOUR SON SPEAKING! THAT IS THE DEMON!”

HE’S HURTING ME MAMA! MAMA! IT’S ME! PIERRE! MAMA!

“VITTORIA WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”
“YOU’RE HURTING HIM! YOU’RE HURTING HIM!”
“MRS. JACQUES HE’S NOT YOUR SON! PUSH HER AWAY!”

MAMA! MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!

“HE’S ONLY FIVE! YOU’RE HURTING HIM!”
“STOP!”
“MON DIEU! HE GOT OUT OF HIS BONDS!”
“FOLLOW HIM! DON’T LET HIM LEAVE THE HOUSE! OH GOD! IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON..”
“MON DIEU! PIERRE! DROP THAT KNIFE! PIERRE! DROP THAT KNIFE! I’M YOUR PAPA!”

DIE! ADULTERER! DIE! FORNICATOR! DIE! BAD PAPA!…PAPA! PAPA! NON! PAPA! MAMA! HE DID IT! I DIDN’T DO IT! MAMA! SAVE ME!

“GOD HAVE MERCY! FATHER HAVE MERCY!”

MAMA! YOU DID NOT SAVE ME! EVIL WOMAN! YOU HATE ME! YOU HATE YOUR FUCKING SON! BITCH! WANNA DO ME DON’T YOU? YOU WANNA DO ME!

“PIERRE! PIERRE!”

SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH! 

“GOD OF HEAVEN AND EARTH, GOD OF THE ANGELS AND ARCHANGELS, GOD OF THE PROPHETS AND APOSTLES”

HE WON’T SAVE YOU! UH OH. GUESS WHAT FATHER! JUST FOUND THE POWER SWITCH! LET US PLAY HIDE AND SEEK..

Lights out.

———————————————–

Footsteps.
He lay under the bed shaking, rosary tightly claspsed in his fists.
“Padré..” the voice of the five year old boy called, somewhere far from his hiding place.
“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Holy Father hear my cry. Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplication…”
A door banged open and he started, heart thundering.
“Father…Father! You’re good. Oh you’re good!”
He shuddered at the voice, his heart breaking for the child who was being used so carelessly as a tool.
” God, by your name save me, and by your might defend my cause.”
The voice drew nearer, screaming obscenities in a loud voice; whispering pleas in the child’s voice.
“Father, I’m scared. Please help me. It’s too dark. Where is mama? Where is papa? Father? Father? FUCKING CUNT REVEAL YOUR SELF!”
He shook, forcing himself to murmur prayers.
“God, hear my prayer; hearken to the words of my mouth…” he swallowed, blinking to get the bead of perspiration off his lashes. He wiped his face with his robe.
” Our Father who are in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come”
The room door opened and he shut up.
He listened in silence to the feet of the boy walking into the room.
“Father…Here? Old man? OLD MAN! COME OUT YOU MAN WHORE!”
His heart thudded and he swallowed.
“Father…” the boy called softly, voice nearer.
He felt the slight depression above him on the mattress and he knew the boy was on the bed. He remained still.
“He’s not in here..” he heard the boy whisper softly.
He remained still.
Suddenly,  torch light was flicked on and thrown under the bed, illuminating him.
He gasped.
The face of the little boy peered at him, from above the bed, head upside down.
He stared in horror at the face of the little, eyes filmed over, tinged with blood, saliva dribbling unchecked from a gaping mouth, tongue lolling.
He shrieked and raised his rosary with shaking hands.
“In the name of the Father..and…Son…and..”
The boy stretched out is hand and with an iron grip, clasped his mouth shut.
“Tell me Father..” the gravelly voice of the boy’s occupant said “Do you fear Death?”

——————————————————————-

 Father Bromley left the dark house quickly, taking the stairs two at a time. He ran to his car parked outside the house and opened. He sat in, trying to calm himself.
It was a good thing the Jacques family lived in a secluded area.
He flicked the light on and looked at himself in the front view mirror.
Suddenly, he smiled.
“Well Father..” said the gravelly voice coming from his throat, “Let’s see what fun I can have with you”
His eyes flashed red in the mirror before they returned to their grey colour.
The new occupant of Father Bromley winked at himself, started the car and drove off into the darkness.

End. 


*set to In The End by Vanessa Carlton*

The keys black and white, like him and her.

His ochre skin glistened with sweat as he thrust into her, over and over. She arched her back into him, crying furiously as he took her. She wrapped her hand around his neck and squeezed, her wiry fingers compressing his windpipe with unnatural strength. Her eyes were sad, but they shone with a preternatural light as his thrusts intensified with the tightening of her fingers. He began to gasp as her body began to spasm under him and he buried himself deep into her, his outstretched arms  rested on flat palms on either side of her face. In a mindless lust filled haze, she bucked and was rewarded with a resounding snap. His head lolled and his arms gave way, his naked body collapsing onto hers. She wrapped her hands around his torso and cried softly, the relief of taking a life washing over her, silently savouring the warmth leave his body and the gentle weight that slowly grew on her as his blood stopped to flow and his limbs turned to lead.

It took ten minutes for his body to transmute from healthy ochre to a sickly ash and she laid under him through it all, arms wrapped around his neck, legs spread beneath him. With some effort she crawled out from under him, the smell of death upon her. It is just as it should be, she thought to herself, walking through the dimly lit belfry towards the little square of light cast by the moon through the stained glass window. The kaleidoscope of colours bathed her pale skin in the glorious hues, a mockery of the blackness she was inside. Her youthful skin, milky white in spite of the years she spent in the desert sun, playing away the beautiful concertos that she had longed to play in the darkened halls with beautiful high ceilings. Her breasts blue and yellow from the light cast by the robes and cherubic face of the Christ child, they had stayed small as they were when He first fondled them in that back alley, when he made her spirit soar and her skin flush with light and her womb bloom with his seed. Her flat belly was the cream of the sheep that lay beside the manger, the fertile pudgy sheep that bowed its head in adoration of the child. Hers would never rise, never. He’d taken that from her because she took his seed away from him. The only thing that continued to thrive was her raven hair falling to her plump buttocks, hiding the scars of her trysts with Him as He prod her over and over, every season she sook him out to lay with her.  He’d obliged her each time, but he forbade her to look upon his beautiful face, bent her over and took her, sinking his claws into the small of her back and raking deep gouges that took a year to heal. He thought he was punishing her, but she knew better, he was the only one who could hurt her and pain was better than the numbness she felt.

He would ask her to play for Him wherever they met, in a crowded market or a dingy slum or an upscale hotel. It never mattered to him how many would die after. It never did.

“I have missed my violin, Tana.” He would say. “Play me a little piece? I want to hear if he has been tuned and oiled like you promised.”

She would play, from mournful to joyous, from jubilant to brooding, astute to languid, and they paused  where the music carried. Young, old, beautiful, juvenile; it didn’t matter to Tana Brooks’ violin. They would stop in their tracks and gather around her, transfixed by the sounds her bow wrought. He would disappear into the mist as he always did, smiling at his creation. She would play as long as they wished her to, minutes, hours, even days. She would tap out melodies that reminded suited business men of their childhood dancing to folk songs and they would dance in helpless abandon while she cried for now she was so in tune with the violin she could see the deaths that would come for them. Eventually they would all get sated with her and as a swarm they would disappear to their deaths and leave her with the burden of being judge and executioner. And she would disappear until, her scars healed and compulsion drew her to seek Belial again.

“Doh! Doh! Doh!” came the melodious whisper from the aged piano in the corner. Tana shook herself from her reverie and noticed the light was much stronger now; she had stood there for hours. She turned to the sound and a smile parted her lips. Ashy and stiff, he perched naked on the tiny stool that faithfully stood beside the crumbling piano hidden in the darkened corner of the room, his frozen fingers picking notes of a child’s lullaby. His neck jutted out an angle and his glassy eyes stared into the dark but he didn’t need to see the keys to play. She stood in the light and watched in awe as his skin regained its lustre and his joints became fluid once again, his neck slowly inching its way back up, righting his head full of curly hair. She saw it every other night, but each time he rose from where they had coupled and healed, it awed her over again. He turned his now straight head at her and smiled ruefully, seguing from the jaunty march he had been playing into a languid waltz. Play with me, his eyes pleaded.

Tana picked her violin from where she’d laid it by the window sill and tightened the frogs. She tested a few notes ensuring her notes rang true to his, and plunged herself into the music; following his lead, complementing his dips and shoring the silences between his transitions. They played so beautifully, two angels of death, harbingers of doom, cursed by their chance meetings with Lilith and Belial to wreak death in all they did. She played the half tones that her heart had longed to sing and the dirges she couldn’t play at the funerals of all the people she’d loved from afar and watched slip into darkness and he played the grand hymns he had dreamed of subsuming himself in at the cathedral where he had grown up, on the colossus of an organ behind which he had prayed for eighteen years tightening screws and waiting for his turn to glory in its melodies. Lilith found him and cursed his eyes to stay forever open and his hands to freeze in death each time he ever played for another’s entertainment, she’d taken all he cared for away from him on a petulant whim.  She was his salvation and he her companion, the perfect waltz, the girl on the violin and the boy on the piano.

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This piece was written in 45 minutes as an imagined sequel to the  epic Girl On The Violin (read it here) set to the haunting song In the End by Vanessa Carlton. Our boy on the piano is none other than Johnny Depp. I hope I did justice to Tana Brooks. Shalom.

ROGUE


Today’s post is ‘pseudo’ erotica, titled after my favorite X-Men character and inspired by the usual culprits (sue mey neowwww!!!) Lol.

ROGUE

Let your eyes, rove, rove, rove all over me
Let your fingers brush against heightened skin
And let them come away, dewy with my anticipation

Let your teeth scratch, scrape, tickle the insides of my thighs
Let your tongue follow the trails that lovers before have left behind
And let it find my ruby fountain and lap at my most hidden treasures

Let your lips touch, taste, savor the moistness of mine
Let your stubble brush against my neck
As you kiss your way down to my nipples,
Pulsing little beacons of heated desire
Reward their diligence with gentle kisses

Let my legs wrap, squeeze, pull you into me
And let my enthusiasm keep you in
As my nails tattoo my desire on your back
And my hips buck to guide you deeper
And I sing arias of my passion and your prowess

Let my pleasure start, stop, build momentum
As you tease me endlessly
Sliding in, pulling out, coating my doorways
Make me beg and make me threaten
But listen not
Hold out till I quiver in frustration
Then oblige my wails, fill me and sate me

Let my climax creep up and consume me
And let my rivers flow
And my body shudder like the earth does
When Gaea trembles to Ouranous touch
But don’t leave, stay in me
Sate me for as long as it can
Let your salty skin comfort me
And lull me to pleasurable slumber.

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