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Release (3,233 Graphic) (1 Viewer)

stevew84

Senior Member
UPDATED IN POST #5

I think this fits under horror...please move if it does not.
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David sat alone at the bar, which was littered with sad sacks who looked to drown their sorrows in whiskey tumblers. As clichéd as it was, David was doing the same thing. The name of the place was Dark Reverie, a rather curious name for a club that specialized in new wave and synth-pop music. Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart” blared from the sound system. It was a huge hit at the time, and resonated with the overwhelming amount of yuppies that filled the dance floor; though they knew nothing of love, or what it could do to them.


His glass ran empty, only half melted cubes remained. The reverberation of sound that hailed from the nearby speaker was enough to make his head pound and he had to get out. David thought this to be the perfect opportunity to head toward the fresh air and have a few drags. But then he noticed her. A young woman danced alone, away from the mass of people. She was terribly off beat, but didn’t seem to care. Her limbs were like fluid as she looked to be in a trance from the music. David only stared at her before he continued through the front door, past the bouncer and line of people that waited to get in.


David wasn’t there to make friends, or even dare think about meeting a woman. It’s been a year since he’s been given his new found freedom. Nothing like being single at 30, he thought. After years with the same woman, love turned into familiarity and being happy only because she was there, not because he still loved her. His misguided resentment toward his former lover eventually led to violence. When he placed his hands on her in an aggressive way, she had enough. The idea of love scared him. Not because he couldn’t muster the emotion, but because he knew it would slowly fade before it extinguished for good. Both parties would be hurt along the way, emotionally and physically, and it was something he didn’t want to put anyone through ever again.


The muffled bass rattled the blacked out glass façade of the club. A group of neon clad, feathered haired teens clamored near the back of the line. David laughed to himself. They were there to have fun while he was there to feel sorry for himself and get away from his apartment for a few hours, only to return to it and feel worse than when he left. A few more drags of his cigarette and he flicked the butt down the alley next to the club before he headed inside.


His eyes scanned the dance floor for the out of rhythm woman. Stop looking for her, hurt can only come from this. She stood against the wall near the lady’s room. Her canary yellow high heeled foot tapped against the wall. Black fishnets ran up to her thighs. She wore a black leather mini skirt that was the antithesis of modest. The white spaghetti strap could hardly contain the heaviness of her bust that was nicely wrapped in a black lace bra. She wore a small crucifix that nestled itself at the top of her cleavage. A thin white shirt with a black bra, she knows what she’s doing.


If you keep staring, she’ll notice you. You will hurt her and you know it. The thoughts continued to run through his mind. Before he could take his eyes off of her, she spotted his gaze. Her teased hair bounced back and force when she did a double take at David. Her lips instinctively pursed and their eyes locked. Neither could turn away. She took her index finger and signaled for him to come, and David obeyed. The flashes of the strobe lights matched his every step and brought her closer to him with each blast of light. Like camera flashes, her pose was illuminated in alabaster skinned perfection. The music broke when he was just a couple of feet in front of her.


“I don’t think you could have stared any harder.” she said. Her plum painted lips contrasted against her perfectly white teeth.


“Sorry about that.” David replied, not sure where the conversation was headed.


She grabbed at the collar of David’s leather jacket before she ran a hand against the back of his neck.


The tingling feeling was something he hadn’t felt in years.


“I’m Rachel.” she said softly.


“David.” he replied.


Depeche Mode’s “Somebody” quietly filled their ears. Everyone in the club slowed their pace and moved closer to one another. The softness of the song and its lyrical content was exactly what David didn’t want to happen. You need to get away. Rachel smirked as she must have known the song and the awkwardness of two strangers dancing to it. Neither of them pulled away, but rather embraced as close as the people around them. She put her head on his chest as a wave of warmth came over him. He felt his eyes swell in a moment of pure happiness. This can’t happen. He pushed her away gently but her arms remained clasped around his waist.


She stared into his eyes. Just another sad sack. The look of desperation in her face caused him to cup her face and kiss her forehead. What the hell are you doing? So much for wanting to keep your distance. They held each other until the song came to an end. David took her hand and led her to the bar where they sat on two empty stools.


I think I finally found him. She thought. Rachel has been looking for the right man to fill her needs. Not the typical needs that most women long for, but a rather specific need. Only a broken man would suffice, and David has been giving off these exact vibes.


Similar to David, she too had recently ended a long term relationship, but for vastly different reasons. Rachel was a masochist, and proved to be far too intense once she felt comfortable with a partner. Tired of wasting her time and feelings, she decided that the new course of action would be to introduce her ideas of love immediately, and see how he’d react.


Rachel reached into her small purse that hung over her shoulder, with the strap between her breasts, further accentuating them. She opened a bag that had a handful of white tablets.


“What are those?” David asked.


“Quaaludes. How do you not know?” she replied.


“Never touched the stuff.”


“You will tonight.”


She placed one tablet between her teeth and leaned toward David. I better not have to tell you what to do. He leaned in and they shared a soft kiss as she pushed it into his mouth with her tongue. She inserted another into her mouth and they both swallowed hard to get them down.

“Please take me out of here.” she said.


Take you out where? Just outside? Home with me? He thought, confused, curious and excited at the same time. He felt it was best to say nothing, grab her hand and make their way to the front door.


“Are you alright?” he asked while he put a new cigarette in his mouth. She stood there with her hand on her hip, which was cocked to the side, her other hand held out toward me. As if I knew she smoked.


“Where are my manners?” he said jokingly. She didn’t budge, but rather shook her hand to tell me to hurry up. David gave her a light and she went through about half in just a couple of drags.

“I got you out of there, what now?” he asked.


Without an answer, Rachel walked down the street and David hurried to catch up. Her walk was confident, even in the heels. A gentle bounce accompanied each step, and made for the perfect sight as he walked next to her. Why are you following her?


“I’m just a few blocks down, thought we could have a drink there, talk some more.” she said.


Whether he liked it or not, David had a curse, or a gift, depending on the situation, of attracting a woman without very much effort. On top of that, women were almost immediately attached to him, without any good reason. This has had mixed results throughout David’s adult life. Though hesitant at first, he knew his judgment was sound.


Might as well go with it, already gone this far. David lagged behind, letting Rachel get a few strides ahead. With every few steps she would turn look back at him to make sure he was staring at her. She really does know what she’s doing.


Rachel stopped at a red bricked three story building, fiddled with the contents of her purse and opened the exterior door. The foyer held the mailboxes of the tenants, a couple of lights and nothing more. The old wooden staircase let out a creek with every step. Rachel went up first and held David’s hand until they reached the second floor. She must know I can see everything from this angle.


They walk to the end of the hall.


“How are you feeling?” she asked.


“Fine, why?” he answered.


“Didn’t kick in yet or what?”


“I don’t think so? What’s supposed to happen?”


She stopped in front of her apartment door and grabbed him around the waist to squeeze his ass.


“You’re supposed to feel good. You want to feel good, don’t you?” she said as she pressed her chest into his. The amount of cleavage was immense.


David immediately felt a rush of euphoria and pressure in his jeans. She felt it too and looked down at the bulge.


“That’s a little uncalled for, isn’t it?” she said with a serious tone.


“Sorry! I can’t control it.” he said as he adjusted himself. Idiot.


She inserted the key and smiled. David felt woozy and stumbled against the partially opened door before he hit the ground. Rachel kneeled down to check on him but he went unconscious.


Great. She thought. Rachel kicked off her heels and dragged David from the threshold to just past the swing of the front door. She closed it and sat on the bed. He lied there and snored, his jeans still bulged in a rather impressive way. Interesting. After she realized he probably wouldn’t wake up, she lied on the floor next to him and draped one leg over his thighs. Her knee was pressed against David’s crotch. The gentle touch from her knee made David even more excited, though not conscious to enjoy it. With her thumb and index finger, she released his button fly, one by one. His briefs poked out though the opening and she opened them as well.


Rachel didn’t touch what was exposed, instead stared and touched herself. David shuffled on the floor for a moment and she stopped. Carefully, she removed her black panties and slid them down her legs, stood over him and squatted down, grabbing his erection. After a bit of a struggle, she put him inside of her. She leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Her body convulsed briefly before she got off of him slowly.


With a small amount of sweat beading from her face, she took to the bathroom and splashed herself with water. In the mirror she noticed the smudged makeup on her face. Ugly. Under the sink were various candles that she removed and placed around the apartment using David’s lighter that she dug out of his pocket. When she put the lighter back, David was no longer excited so she put that back as well. She then waited for him to wake up as she lied on her bed.


This wasn’t Rachel’s typical routine. But something about David made her want him in every way possible. He felt amazing. As perverse as it was, she then knew he was the one to give her what she’s been searching for.


My fucking head. David thought. Where the hell am I? He rubbed his eyes and sat up. The pounding in his head only increased as he stood. Rachel has her eyes closed on the bed. What’s with the candles? Every flat surface in the apartment has a candle. Catholic imagery adorns the walls along with a Virgin Mary statue on a bedside table. The situation could be nothing other than bad, but still he couldn’t leave. He stood over the bed and stared at Rachel, who was half covered with the sheets. On the ground next to the bed were her fish nets, skirt and bra. She adjusted her position and in doing so, the spaghetti strap revealed partially what was underneath. You’ve got to be kidding me. He couldn’t help but stare yet feel bad at the same time.


He pulled the strap back up to her shoulder and tugged at her shirt to cover the exposed skin. Rachel extended her arms in an audible stretch before she realized what David was doing. Fuck.


“You were…spilling out of your shirt. I was try-. “David blurted out.


“-Trying to…put me back in? You’re sweet. So what now?”


He knew right then he was done.


“Tuck me in.”


He knew he shouldn’t, but still he pulled back the sheets and took in the view. Her legs were crossed over each other, smooth and warm to the touch, not a bit of imperfection.


“You can hurt me; you can do whatever you like.” she told him.


Get the hell out of here, right now.


Rachel uncrossed her legs and began to touch herself over her panties. He had no choice but to get into the bed with her.


She welcomed David between her legs and put his hands wherever she wanted to be touched. When his hand was put close to her throat, he squeezed and pressed down. As soon as she turned the slightest of red, he would release. Why did you do that?! She pulled at the wrist of his other hand and put that to her throat as well. David watched her turn from red to purple, her eyes bloodshot before he released again. Rachel gasped for air and when she did, she smiled. What is wrong with her? The impression of his hands now marked on her throat.


“I want you to do something for me.” she said.


“Whatever you want.”


“Go to the drawer over there, bring to me what’s inside.”


David got out of the bed and went to the only window in the apartment. Below it was small chest of drawers.


“The top one.” she said.


A bundled up black cloth sat in the top drawer. He took it to her without unwrapping what was inside.


She sat up from the bed, covering her legs with the sheets but removed her shirt completely. The perfect visual took a sudden backseat when she exposed the content of the cloth.


A bag filled with Quaaludes, a vial of some brownish liquid, and a long yet thin knife.


“What the fuck is all that?” David asks.


“I asked if you would do something for me.”


“Yes…”


“I want you to give me death.”


David backed up from the bed and made his way toward the door. Before he could reach the knob, the sound of Rachel’s cries caused him to stop. Come on, seriously? He knew he should have left, all signals pointed in that direction. But it was David’s previously broken heart that kept him there. He wanted to see where this was going, and he was enjoying himself.


“Every man has left me lonely and confused. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” she said between the sobs. “Please come and sit back down.”


Cautiously David stood at the side of the bed and watched as Rachel held the knife in her hand. He reached for the vial and opened it, but before he could bring it up to his nose, she snatched it from him.


“Don’t!” she said.


“What is it?”


“Something that will dull the pain.”


Rachel upturned the vial between her lips and swallowed the content. A grimace on her face said that it either burned on the way down or tasted horribly. She patted the bed in a gesture for David to sit next to her. She still held the knife.


“Don’t you ever wonder what it feels like, what happens next?” she asked.


“What what feels like?”


“Death.”


David looked toward the front door and shook his head. Of course I’ve thought about it, I have for a long time now. Before he could answer, a sharp pain on the left side of his chest instinctively made him grab the area. The knife was firmly placed against him, it poked through his shirt. His hand was red with blood from the graze against the blade.


The warmth that derived from the blade that slightly punctured his chest didn’t exactly hurt. Instead, he grabbed Rachel’s hand and positioned the knife a little differently.


“You have to go between the ribs, and it’s gotta be turned sideways.” he told her.


The blade won’t fit between the ribs if it’s straight up and down. I know that. She thought. Her body filled with anxiety as it seemed David was to be on board with what she wanted to do.


”In a few minutes, I won’t be able to feel anything. Alright?” she said.


“So what? What exactly are you asking me to do?”


He can’t be this stupid. Or can he? She sat there for a moment and scraped the knife against her chest. When she finished, she laid her head on the pillow. Her skin freckled with spots of blood. David took the knife from her.


“Stop, please!” he said.


Fuck! He thought. David didn’t want to hurt her. But at the same time, he was curious about death and what happens in those final moments. She said that stuff dulled the pain, right?


Rachel cried her eyes bloodshot. He took a deep breath, straddled her and sat on her pelvis, knife in hand. The bag of Quaaludes sat next to her; he opened the bag and ate a handful. Each chew resulted in a more disgusted look on his face. Rachel’s eyes widened and she smiled.


I’m done. There is no going back. I won’t experience a moment as perfect as this again.


“David…” she said.


David positioned the knife under her left breast. The weight of it indented her skin before a high pitched pop was heard. He pushed a little harder and the indent in the skin rose up and around the cold blade. Blood ran down her side in a single stream. Rachel bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes. Her back arched and the knife went in further. The blood pooled in her belly button and soaked the sheets.


“…thank you.”


His vision slightly blurred and the room spun. He leaned forward with both hands on the knife and used his entire body weight to press it into her chest, up to the hilt.


Rachel took a deep breath; her eyes sprung open and immediately caught his. She was about to die. David kissed her on the lips and rolled to her right side.


Rachel took her final breath as David’s breathing slowed.
 
Last edited:

Infel

Senior Member
Huh. That was really unexpected. And interesting. I admit I'm not usually a fan of macabre stuff, but I was entertained.

That said, I'm really disbelieving of the idea that some rando-dude at a club would be totally fine just up and murdering another human being. Even as broken as you described him. I'm pretty blissfully ignorant of the horrors of the world, so it didn't resonate with me. It broke me out of my zone in the final paragraphs of the story. I totally don't believe he would be fine stabbing her to death.

Thats not to say i COULDN'T ever believe he'd be fine stabbing her to death. I'm a reader, I'll believe anything if you sell it to me. But I didn't feel like you did. I would need a healthy dose of watching this guy do some pretty crazy stuff before I'd believe he'd be totally fine stabbing her. Maybe he's violent towards people at the club. Maybe instead of leaving, he's thrown out for saying some SUPER macabre stuff to one of the young girls who walked in. I'll believe it if you make me believe it.

Secondly, it sort of reads like a book report. Because it alternates between both of their points of view, I'm not grounded as a reader. I feel like I'm floating up taking notes of whats going on, instead of actually living the experience. If you chose one of their points of veiws and put me into their skin, I'd have more of an emotional connection to each of them--one because I'm living vicariously through them, and the other because the character I'm living vicariously through is emotionally connected to them.

Just my two cents! I'd love to see a draft two.
 

stevew84

Senior Member
Huh. That was really unexpected. And interesting. I admit I'm not usually a fan of macabre stuff, but I was entertained.

That said, I'm really disbelieving of the idea that some rando-dude at a club would be totally fine just up and murdering another human being. Even as broken as you described him. I'm pretty blissfully ignorant of the horrors of the world, so it didn't resonate with me. It broke me out of my zone in the final paragraphs of the story. I totally don't believe he would be fine stabbing her to death.

Thats not to say i COULDN'T ever believe he'd be fine stabbing her to death. I'm a reader, I'll believe anything if you sell it to me. But I didn't feel like you did. I would need a healthy dose of watching this guy do some pretty crazy stuff before I'd believe he'd be totally fine stabbing her. Maybe he's violent towards people at the club. Maybe instead of leaving, he's thrown out for saying some SUPER macabre stuff to one of the young girls who walked in. I'll believe it if you make me believe it.

Secondly, it sort of reads like a book report. Because it alternates between both of their points of view, I'm not grounded as a reader. I feel like I'm floating up taking notes of whats going on, instead of actually living the experience. If you chose one of their points of veiws and put me into their skin, I'd have more of an emotional connection to each of them--one because I'm living vicariously through them, and the other because the character I'm living vicariously through is emotionally connected to them.

Just my two cents! I'd love to see a draft two.
Thanks for the feedback.

I hinted at the fact that David was abusive in his previous relationship, but maybe I need to take that a step further and have a paragraph explaining exactly what he did after he felt resentment toward his past lover and became violent.

As far as believably, you need to know about the world that I set this in. It's a world full of broken hearts who relive their lost love with other people. There are a lot of people out there who equate true love to death, or by dying in the arms of the person you love. Do you need to have a lifelong relationship with this person to find this love? No. One night stands could be a thing of beauty, life changing, or life ending as in this case.

Now concerning the climax of the story. I am going to add the following to when David straddles her. I think it will add a bit more depth to Rachel's character.

"David positioned the knife under her left breast. Hesitation marked revealed themselves as pushed her left breast aside with the flat part of the blade. How many times has she been in this situation? The weight of it indented her skin before a high pitched pop was heard. He pushed a little harder and the indent in the skin rose up and around the cold blade. Blood ran down her side in a single stream. Rachel bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes. Her back arched and the knife went in further. The blood pooled in her belly button and soaked the sheets."

I probably got a bit ambitious with the POV's, but if I stayed solely in David's head, he would come across as a straight up murderer. If I stayed in Rachel's POV, David would come across as nothing more than a pawn who just went along with her.

Maybe I can go omniscient with the narration and be in both of their heads when I need to? I'm finally getting used to writing in past tense so I want to stick with it, and third person is the way to go since I have basically two main characters. Were you suggesting this would play out better in first person? But whose POV would be more riveting?

I'm not a dark person, and this is the first story I've written with these types of undertones. I have a couple of other stories here on this board I'd encourage you to check out.
 

stevew84

Senior Member
Here is a massive update.

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David flicked his last $5 bill at the bartender after he clanked the ice in his whiskey tumbler. At the far end of the bar was a couple that brought new meaning to the phrase public display of affection. The name of the place was Dark Reverie, a rather curious name for a club that specialized in new wave and synth-pop music. Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart” blared from the sound system. It was a huge hit, and resonated with the overwhelming amount of yuppies that filled the dance floor; though they knew nothing of love, or what it could do to them.


On one side, a nearby speaker pounded David’s eardrums to a pulp. The other had a woman who tried to get his attention but to no avail. She continued to rub up against him in an accidental manner before David jutted his arm in her direction. He needed to get out for a smoke. When he stood, the spins took over. After a moment he regained his composure and that’s when he noticed her - a young woman that danced alone, away from the mass of people. She was terribly off beat, but didn’t seem to care. Her limbs moved with such fluidity that he was fixated. David stared at her before he continued through the front door, past the bouncer and line of people that waited to get in.


The muffled bass rattled the blacked out glass façade of the club. A group of neon clad, feather haired teens clamored near the back of the line. The girls of the group pointed at him and smiled. He gave a quick smile, which caused them to giggle. David laughed when a couple of puny boys they were with jumped out of line and considered a confrontation. A quick flick of his cigarette toward them and he went back inside.


His eyes scanned the dance floor for the out-of-rhythm woman. She stood against the wall near the lady’s room. Her canary yellow high heeled foot tapped the floor. Black fishnets ran up to her thighs. She wore a black leather mini skirt that was the antithesis of modest. The white spaghetti strap could hardly contain the heaviness of her chest, which was nicely wrapped in a black lace bra. She wore a small crucifix that nestled itself at the top of her cleavage.


Before he could take his eyes off of her, she spotted his gaze. Her teased hair bounced but went back into position when she turned to look at him. Her lips instinctively pursed and their eyes locked. Neither could turn away. She took her index finger and signaled for him to come, and David obeyed. The flashes of the strobe lights matched his every step and brought her closer to him with each blast of light. Like camera flashes, her pose was illuminated in alabaster skinned perfection. The music broke when he was just a couple of feet in front of her.


“I don’t think you could have stared any harder.” she said as her plum painted lips contrasted against her perfectly white teeth.


“Sorry about that.” David replied, not sure where the conversation was headed.


She grabbed at the collar of David’s leather jacket and ran a hand against the back of his neck. The tingling feeling was something he hadn’t felt in years.


“I’m Rachel.”


“David.”


Depeche Mode’s “Somebody” quietly filled their ears. Everyone in the club slowed their pace and moved closer to one another. The softness of the song and its lyrical content was exactly what David didn’t want to happen. Rachel smirked as she must have known the song and the awkwardness of two strangers dancing to it. But neither of them pulled away, instead they embraced as close as the people around them. She put her head on his chest and a wave of warmth came over him.


She leaned back and stared into his eyes. The just flamboyant woman turned had reduced to putty in his arms. They held each other until the song came to an end. David took her hand and led her to the bar where they sat on two empty stools. Before the bartender could approach, he snagged a couple of bills from the tip jar that sat a little too close to the outside edge of the bar. He let out a whistle.


“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked.


“Two Jacks, neat.”


Rachel reached into her small purse that hung over her shoulder, with the strap between her breasts, further accentuating them. She opened a bag that had a handful of white tablets. She slid one to the bartender who had just finished a clean pour.


“What was that?” David asked.


“Quaaludes. How do you not know?”


“Never touched the stuff.”


“You will tonight.”


She placed one tablet between her teeth and leaned toward David. He leaned in and they shared a soft kiss as she pushed it into his mouth with her tongue. She inserted another into her mouth and they both chugged their whiskey in a single gulp.


“Please take me out of here.” she said.


Confused, curious and excited, he said nothing and grabbed her hand to make way for the front door.


“Are you alright?” he asked while he put a new cigarette in his mouth. She stood there with her hand on her hip, which was cocked to the side, her other hand held out toward him.


“Where are my manners?” he said jokingly. She didn’t budge, but rather shook her hand to tell him to hurry up. David gave her a light and she went through about half in just a few drags.


“I got you out of there, what now?” he asked.


Without an answer, Rachel walked down the street and David hurried to catch up. Her walk was confident, even in heels. A gentle bounce accompanied each step, and made for the perfect sight as he walked next to her.


“I’m just a few blocks down, thought we could have a drink there, talk some more.” she said.


David lagged behind as Rachel went a few strides ahead. With every few steps she would turn look back at him to make sure he stared at her. Rachel stopped at a red bricked three story building, fiddled with the contents of her purse and opened the exterior door. The foyer held the mailboxes of the tenants, a couple of lights and nothing more. The old wooden staircase let out a creek with every step. Rachel went up first and held David’s hand until they reached the second floor.


“How are you feeling?” she asked.


“Fine, why?” he answered.


“Didn’t kick in yet or what?”


“I don’t think so? What’s supposed to happen?”


She stopped in front of her apartment door and grabbed him around the waist and squeezed him from behind.


“You’re supposed to feel good. You want to feel good, don’t you?” she said as she pressed her body into his. The amount of cleavage was immense.


David immediately felt a rush of euphoria and pressure in his jeans. She felt it too and looked down at the bulge.


“That’s a little uncalled for, isn’t it?” she said with a serious tone.


“Sorry! I can’t control it.” he said as he adjusted himself.


She inserted the key and smiled. David felt woozy and stumbled against the partially opened door before he hit the ground. Rachel kneeled down to check on him but he was already unconscious.


Rachel kicked off her heels and dragged David from the threshold to just past the swing of the front door. She closed it and sat on the bed. He lied there and snored, his jeans still bulged in a rather impressive way. After she realized he probably wouldn’t wake up, she lied on the floor next to him and draped one leg over his thighs. Her knee was pressed against David’s crotch. The gentle touch from her knee made David even more excited, though not conscious to enjoy it. With her thumb and index finger, she released his button fly, one by one. His briefs poked out though the opening and she opened them as well.


Rachel didn’t touch what was exposed, instead stared and touched herself. David shuffled on the floor for a moment and she stopped. Carefully, she removed her black panties and slid them down her legs, stood over him and then squatted down, his erection in hand. After a bit of a struggle, she put him inside of her. She rocked back and forth for a moment before her body went rigid, then finally released in convulsions. Satisfied, she patted David on the head, grabbed the lighter out of his pocket and stood up with weak knees.


With a small amount of sweat that formed on her brow, she took to the bathroom and splashed herself with water. In the mirror she noticed the smudged makeup on her face. She wiped away the smears until the bruises showed themselves. Each eye was a bluish purple, her left cheek a yellowish green. Under the sink were various candles that she removed and placed around the apartment. After all were lit, she returned the lighter to his pocket. David was no longer excited so she put that back as well. She then waited for him to wake up as she lied on her bed.


David finally came to, sat up and rubbed his eyes. The throbs in his head only increased as he stood. Foggy, he noticed Rachel in bed. Every flat surface in the apartment had a candle. Catholic imagery adorns the walls along with a Virgin Mary statue on a bedside table. He stood over her and stared, not fazed by the marks on her face. Instead, she was beginning to remind him of his previous lover, Sherri. The even bruises on her eyes told him that she was probably hit in the nose, and the bruise on the cheek said that she was most likely hit with an open hand. A fist would have blackened the cheek.


On the ground were her fish nets, skirt and bra. She adjusted her position and in doing so, the spaghetti strap revealed partially what was underneath. He couldn’t help but stare yet feel bad at the same time. He pulled the strap back up to her shoulder and tugged at her shirt to cover the exposed skin. Rachel extended her arms in an audible stretch before she realized what David was doing.


“You were…spilling out of your shirt. I was try-. “David blurted out.


“-Trying to…put me back in? You’re sweet. Tuck me in.”


He knew he shouldn’t, but still he pulled back the sheets and took in the view. Her legs were crossed over each other, not a bit of imperfection. Discolorations on her stomach poked through her thin white shirt. Flashes of Sherri ran through his mind.


“You can hurt me; you can do whatever you like.” she told him.


Rachel uncrossed her legs and began to touch herself over her panties.


She welcomed David between her legs and put his hands wherever she wanted to be touched. When his hand was put close to her throat, he squeezed and pressed down. As soon as she turned the slightest of red, he would release. Rachel was now, at least in his eyes, Sherri. She pulled at the wrist of his other hand and put that to her throat as well. David watched her turn from red to purple, her eyes bloodshot before he released again. Rachel gasped for air and when she did, she smiled. The impression of his hands now marked on her throat.


“I want you to do something for me.” she said.


“Whatever you want.”


“Go to the drawer over there, bring to me what’s inside.”


David got out of the bed and went to the small chest of drawers.


“The top one.” she said.


A bundled up black cloth sat in the top drawer. He took it to her without unwrapping what was inside. She sat up from the bed, covering her legs with the sheets but removed her shirt completely. The perfect visual took a sudden backseat when she exposed the content of the cloth.


A bag filled with Quaaludes, a vial of some brownish liquid, and a long yet thin knife.


“What is all that?” David asks.


“I asked if you would do something for me.”


“Yes…”


“I want you to give me death.”


David backed up from the bed and made his way toward the door. Before he could reach the knob, the sound of Rachel’s cries made him stop. Her voice was replaced with the whining of Sherri.


“Every man has left me lonely and confused. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” she said between the sobs. “Please come and sit back down.”


David stood at the side of the bed and watched as Rachel held the knife in her hand. He reached for the vial and opened it, but before he could bring it up to his nose, she snatched it from him.


“Don’t!” she said.


“What is it?”


“Something that will dull the pain.”


Rachel upturned the vial between her lips and swallowed the content. A grimace on her face said that it either burned on the way down or tasted horribly. She patted the bed in a gesture for David to sit next to her. She still held the knife.


“Don’t you ever wonder what it feels like, what happens next?” she asked.


“What what feels like?”


“Death.”


David looked toward the front door and shook his head. Before he could answer, a sharp pain on the left side of his chest made him wince. The knife was firmly pressed against his chest.


The sting that derived from the blade that slightly punctured his chest didn’t hurt, but rather aroused him. He grabbed Rachel’s hand and positioned the knife a little differently.


“You have to go between the ribs, and it’s gotta be turned sideways.”


”In a few minutes, I won’t be able to feel anything. Alright?”


“What exactly are you asking me to do?”


She sat there for a moment and scraped the knife against her chest. When she finished, she laid her head on the pillow. Her skin freckled with spots of blood. David took the knife from her.


Rachel cried her eyes bloodshot. He took a deep breath, grabbed the knife and straddled her. Rachel had been replaced with Sherri.


David opened the bag of Quaaludes and ate a handful.


“David…” she said.


Hesitation marks and light scars revealed themselves as he pushed her left breast aside with the flat part of the blade. The weight of it indented her skin before a high pitched pop was heard. He pushed a little harder and the skin rose up and around the cold blade. Blood ran down her side in a single stream. Sherri’s eyed widened and mouth went agape in shock. But it was Rachel who had bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes. Her back arched and the knife went in further. The blood pooled in her belly button.


“…thank you.”


Sherri cried from under him. He pulled out the knife and plunged it back down into Sherri’s chest. He used such force that he knife penetrated through her back as blood pooled underneath her. The cried had stopped as Rachel was motionless with closed eyes.


David’s eyes blurred, his head spun and he felt woozy. His hands were no longer able to feel the knife. He slumped down with his head on her bloody chest. Rachel took a deep breath, mustered her last bit of strength and grabbed his head. She positioned it in front of her face. His eyes have rolled into the back of his head and his face was covered with her blood. She kissed him.


Rachel took her final breath.
 

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