Hoot08

Finished Short Story
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I tediously washed the blood from my hands. That was the last time, the last time, was all I thought. Scrubbing, I rubbed the wash cloth over the lines of my hands, removing the blood that had settled. The once clear water in the sink had turned a light crimson with gentle soap bubbles atop. My hands were disgusting to me, in fact I often needed to hold back the urge to vomit when I took sight of them. I stole glances at those vile creations while washing to make sure all blood was gone and washed safely down the drain.

Using a towel I dried off my hands and went over to the hotel bed, it's sheets ripped off and stashed away in unremarkable black garbage bags. I laid on the bed, my hands to my sides and my eyes towards the ceiling.

Sweat dripped down my forehead and continued down until a small damp area surrounded my head. I felt disoriented, I often did after an act like this. My vision blurred and cleared, blurred and cleared, until I no longer knew the blurry from the clear. A numb feeling encompassed my body. It always ended this way, like the last effects of a good high, when your body slowly brings itself back to reality and your left with your sins on your conscience.

In the morning the slate will be clean, I said over and over in my mind.
I slipped on my clothes and left the room, bags in hand. The halls and lobby were empty, aside from a employee behind the desk.

“Good evening Mr. Drake,” she said a bright smile across her face.

I merely offered her a nod and smile. More important things needed to be tended to. The stairs that led to the basement of the hotel were narrow and old, each step elicited a scream in protest from the iron stairs. Once me feet hit the solid ground I knew I was almost there. The furnace heated up the room to sweltering conditions and it felt as if I walked into a wall of moisture once I stepped over the threshold.

With a steady hand I lifted up one of the many doors to the furnace and threw the garbage bags into the fiery tornado of flame and embers. I was transfixed on the garbage bags as slowly they folded in on themselves and melted away along with what was inside held.

This was the last time, the last time I swear it, was all that ran through my mind.

Five A.M. I pump out five more reps, my muscles ached with each curl of my bicep. Teeth clenched, I finished the last one and let the weights fall to the floor with a thud. My hands went straight for my burning biceps. There were times when I wondered if my very muscles would just tears apart from the tension. I looked around. No one seemed to notice. I studied my body in the mirror, the distinct curve of my biceps, gently curving down to my elbow where it met another thick muscle that ran straight to the full fingered gloves I wore. I smiled, pain brings pleasure.

I rubbed the sweat off my body with a towel and glance over to the treadmills, a habit of mine. Three women jogged almost in unison, their breasts bouncing with each step. A smile crept onto my face, Maybe just one more time.

I calmly strolled towards the women and picked one out, a firm bodied red head with full lips and fuller breasts. I started up on a treadmill next to her and casually glanced over from time to time until her eyes met mine and we shared the first important gaze of a relationship. She looked at me with a pair of big green eyes and smiled. It was just too easy.

My eyes moved up and down her once beautiful body. I let loose my bare hands from around her fragile neck and staggered away from the bed. I felt for the bathroom door, my gaze not once leaving her bloodied nude body.

Once in the bathroom I shut the door and sat on the toilet, my head rested in my hands. The adrenaline pumped throughout my body, which caused some parts of body to involuntary twitch. I felt the rush, the feeling where reality melds with fantasy. My body tingled with each movement.

I peeked through the door to see red haired girl's corpse which remained atop the hotel bed. Within an hour I disposed of the body the same way I disposed of the previous girl..

No more I am done with this, I thought as drowsiness came over me and I drifted asleep.

Sweat built upon my brow, as I forced the bar over my head for another rep. My hands gripped tight as I hoisted it above my horizontal body for my last push and placed it atop it's resting spot. My chest heaved up and down. Slowly I sat up and caught my breath. It felt as if my heart would burst through my chest right then and there. To push hard meant you could only conquer more.

I fastened my gloves tighter and began to scout the treadmills. With a shake of the head I shook the thought of those women away and instead got up and moved to the locker room. I showered and changed, all the while my mind fought with my body on whether to find a girl.

The gym was somewhat empty when I returned from the locker room, but one thing caught my attention, the rhythmic steps of a treadmill. Unconsciously I looked over to see a petite woman that jogged at a fast pace, her eyes drawn on me. I smiled and offered a wave, which she returned immediately. Slowly I walked over to her and pressed the stop button.

“Hi, my names Will.”

“Hi Will, I'm Jackie.”

I eyed her a moment. She was cute, not strikingly beautiful but cute, with short blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. I once again felt the urge.

“What are you up to tonight?” I asked.

“Maybe you could help me out with that,” she said stepping off the treadmill and towards me.

We wound up where it always ended up, a hotel room, but this time was different. The evening was fantastic, I never had so much fun on a date. We shared a romantic dinner followed by a round of mini-golf, I let her win. It was strange, at that very moment my lust for murder and the high of it faded away and I looked into her blue eyes and saw my future. My lips met her and my eyes closed as I felt her sweet touch. Eyes closed, I imagined her doing the same, revealing in our passionate embrace. Then I felt a cool feeling run across my throat followed by the inability to breath. My hands went to my neck, a warm liquid spilling out over my fingers and with blood filled gurgle, I got what was coming.


How could I have commited such a horrid act, she thought as shes washed the blood from her hands. She glanced down at the body of the man she met earlier that day and grimaced. No more, he was the last.

Pat

Yikes, not my kind of chum.

But the extremity of the character makes it SO good! Well written, to say the least. A very good start. You jammed a lot of action into a very short area, but that's to be done with short stories. The light descriptions were good, sentence structure was in tact. Your choice of words is very nice, and overall, the story gives a nice (and a little disturbing!) pull into the story. Yada yada, you know what you're doing.

On the negative side, I have no clue what the character looks like! If you plan to incorperate that later, ignore that comment. Another thing, you quickly shift from setting to setting without any real warning to the reader. Not a huge problem, but it took me a minute to catch up to where he was, particularly when it switched over to the gym.

In any case, the story is very interesting, I have a feeling it has a bit to do with destructive addiction and its obvious and not-so-obvious side-effects? I'll be glad to read more, that is if you're willing to post it!

And now, we make suggestive finger motions.

Bah! You completed it already! Well, I dont have time to finish reading it tonight, but I'll give my feedback on the rest of it as soon as I can.

__________________
The greatest irony of life is that no one lives through it.

Depressed yet?

Pat

Well done! I had a chance to finish the story and I now will always be fearful of women on treadmills.

Only two things to say, really. Still dont know what the main man looks like. Though it doesn't matter too much with a short story like this, it's nice to have to paint an image in the reader's mind.

You theme, I assume, was a Karma-typed one, saying something along the lines of, "What goes around, comes around," and if that is it, you did a very fine job of driving it home! If that was NOT it, you might consider re-writing.

Other than that, good job! Any more questions for me, PM me! (Yes, ME!)

__________________
The greatest irony of life is that no one lives through it.

Depressed yet?