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Fantasticoe 2001 -  10th Anniversary Issue

My Boyfriend's Hungry

Amanda Cloke


 Interestingly enough the question never arose.  It passed through his mind but he never took the initiative to ask if she was single.  His mind wasnít working all that well anyway.  After seven beers and three... or maybe four, no... oh well, however many shots it was. He lost count after the first one, he was definitely feeling it -- feeling it in a good way.  And after the day he had it was a needed resolution.

 His day, oh it had been a hell of a day!  Three bounced checks, three!  And Alison had given him the ďlets just be friendsĒ talk after two years.  He didn't know why.  He was a good guy.  Maybe he wasn't Brad Pitt but he wasn't dog food either. He had great eyes, someone told him that once.

 "I need to find myself again, Adam." She had said as she walked out of his little apartment.  But she hoped they could be friends, ya know, she would feel bad if they couldnít.  What the hell was that all about?

 And his boss, yes his sonofabitch boss, had told him that if he didnít shape up his job would be given to some one who could handle it.  He wanted to tell his boss to take the job and shove it. But he didn't.  After this day Adam just wanted the world to kiss his ass.

 So he stumbled in here, into this bar where everyone knows your name...no thatís not right.  That was from Cheers.  He didnít know a single soul in this place called Alís All Night Road House, with its peeling red booths and the rusted bar stools and a neon sign that was mostly burnt out.  He didn't know anyone that would come to a place like this. But that was a good thing.  He didn't want to see anyone, didnít want to talk to anyone.  He just wanted to drink his beer and forget who he was for awhile.

  Then he met her and trusted enough to think that if she acted this way then she must be single.   But what is trust these days?  In a bar where no one knows your name you don't trust.  Trust is something that comes from years of friendship, if even then.  Trust isn't fool proof; trust isn't even a reality.  Trust is the same as truth, a lie in disguise.  Or maybe trust is what you get after years of truth?  Oh never mind...

 She was so innocent looking.  She couldnít possibly deceive him.  Her name was Angel for godís sake!  Angel, her name, personality, everything, was perfect.  Adam couldnít believe it when she sat next to him. Couldnít believe it when she smiled at him.  So he bought her a drink, as cheesy of a move as that is.  He always did seem to get cheesy when he was drunk.  Then he asked her to dance.  And she accepted, only asking that he waited until she finished her drink.  So he waited, patiently or actually quite impatiently, but waited nonetheless.  And while Adam waited he watched her, listened to her talk.

 "I don't come here much" she said, giving a laugh as she sucked her drink through the tiny straw.  "This isn't exactly my style" She gestured to the country band playing on the stage at the back of the dark smoky bar.  "But, I don't live far from here." She continued, "I needed to get out of the house. I was hungry for a little human interaction.  I don't go out often."

 He just nodded his head, making the room spin a little.  He drew her back into focus.  She was a classic beauty, long blond hair, blue eyes, and red, red lips...or was that lipstick?  He couldnít tell.  It was so hard these days to tell what was real and what was artificial.   Her hair probably wasn't even really blond; her tits were probably fake too. But at this point it didn't matter.  Didnít matter because they were on the dance floor now and she was using that body to full effect.

 Her hands seemed to be everywhere, sliding down his chest, over his arms; did she just squeeze his ass?  He didn't know, the music seemed so loud, his thoughts were so scattered; yet focused.  Focused on her smell, that of a brewing summer storm. Focused on her taste as his lips met with hers, cherry mixed with something.  Cherry mixed with blood.  Damn, he was bleeding, or she was.  He couldn't be sure.  He didn't feel any pain but he was too drunk to feel much at all.  She pulled back and licked her lips.  Smiled.  The blood was coming from him, just a little cut.  "You bit me" he said.

 She laughed, "Just to see how you taste." Her fingers trailed along his neck down over the bump of his Adam's apple and before he knew what was going on they were making their way out of the bar.

 "Where's your car?" She asked linking her arm with his, pulling him close to her.

 "Just over here," he pointed to his car. A black '72 el Camino with a topper.  It was a piece of shit.  He wouldn't deny that.  But he loved the car.

 They were in the back now and her breath was hot on his ear, her fingers like individual flames burning his skin, branding him.  His shirt was gone and his jeans were around his ankles, and she was climbing on top of him.  And god it felt so good, sliding into her, her hands on his chest, her nails digging into his flesh, causing dots of red to pop up on his smooth skin.  They moved together rhythmically, skin on skin; sweat mixing with his blood, until they both came.

  As Adam drove her home, she sat silently in the seat next to him.  He looked at her and marveled at the incredible close to his awful day.  How had he gotten so lucky to meet her?  And now he was driving her home in hopes of an encore presentation.  They approached her house and he sucked in a breath.  It was a massive house, a mansion, a castle; he didn't know how to describe it, three stories high, gray stone walls, iron gates the whole deal.  He sure as hell had never seen anything like it.  How had he not known this place existed?  He would think that a place like this would be well known yet it was new to him.  This girl was new to him.

 "Do you live here alone?" Adam asked. "It's so big."

 "It's been in my family along time." She said.  Angel led him into the house and he followed her up the thickly carpeted stairs.  Everything was red.  Just like her lips, he thought, just like those cherry lips. And he tasted the blood again.  His lip hadn't ever stopped bleeding, not completely.

 Her bedroom was huge with a king-sized four poster bed in the center of the room, mirrors everywhere.  He was one lucky guy.  Damn.  This was going to be one hell of a night.  She smiled sweetly at him, told him to lie on the bed.  Naked.  Adam was quick to oblige, he wasn't stupid.  Lying on the bed was like sinking into a warm bath, total relaxation. His eyes were almost too heavy to keep open.

 And then they werenít the only ones in the room.  There was someone else, a voice anyway.  Slicing through the air into his brain. Where the hell was that coming from?  Man he must still be drunk.  Voices. He couldnít tell what the voice was saying.  Hungry, dinner, nice and hot.  What?  And then she was purring in his ear, telling him everything was fine, just relax.  And he relaxed; felt like he had been popping pills all night, muscle relaxers.  He used to have a thing for those when he was younger. And then he felt cold metal against his wrists.  Handcuffs.  He'd never really gotten into the kinky stuff, but he sure as hell wasn't going stop the girl.

 There was that voice again, sliding over his body like a hot wind, wrapping around him.  And then it was there, the owner of the voice, standing at the foot of bed.  What the fuck is going on here, he thought.  What the hell is that?   Adam wanted to get up and run but he was stuck there, bound to the bed.  The thing was old and decrepit and its eyes were on him, watching him.  It's skin was pale and yellowed, fragile like hundred-year-old paper.  Its eyes were pale and watery.  God the thing was licking its lips.

 Where is Angel, he wondered.  But she was there too.  Right beside him, hand on his thigh, licking his ear.  He could get lost in the feel of her.  But that thing, it was staring at him and he wanted to scream.  And the voice came again, although he would swear the thing never opened its mouth.  Hungry, it was hungry and Angel had done a good job.  God, he was so confused, his head so messed up.  It spoke again, time to eat it said.

 Adam opened his mouth to scream then but Angelís mouth was on his.  Her tongue licking his lips, licking up the blood that was coming from the cut.  Why hadnít it stopped bleeding yet?  There was so much blood.  Her teeth were red from it.  And the scratches on his chest they were bleeding too.  And that thing, it was coming closer. Jesus, what had he gotten himself into.  Then Angel was whispering in his ear.

 "It was very nice to meet you Adam" Her hands slid up over his chest, making patterns out of the blood that had collected there. "I've enjoyed your company, but you see my boyfriend over there?  Itís been awhile since he ate last. He's a little old for the hunt, so I bring him his food, and, well, itís hard to find a good meal these days.  Things are so risky. And well, you taste good." She ran her finger along his lip.  He whimpered and she frowned.  "Oh don't be scared!  It'll all be over quickly.  My boyfriend's really hungry.  You'll be dead before you know it.  And it wonít hurt, not really.  Might even feel good."

 Angel's boyfriend was beside him. Adam looked over at her, his eyes pleading.  But Angel just smiled.  And as the teeth sank into his skin, the most incredible feeling passed over his body.  Ecstasy would be the only way to describe it.   Like nothing he had ever felt before, nothing he would ever feel again.



 

Acknowledgments:

I would like to thank Terry Heller and the rest of the class for all their help.  I would also like to thank my roommate Adri for letting me bounce ideas off her, Klaus for not getting annoyed that I kept making him read it, my mom for listening to me whine about not knowing what to write, and Mt. Dew for keeping me awake.

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