Monday, April 1, 2024

Short Story: Open 24/7

 




Open 24/7

The world was filled with horrors. Some beyond comprehension and others tangible and far too real. For Lucas nothing was more terrifying or evoked more dread than exam season, and the ever looming shadow of college debt. He had barely been sleeping, hardly been eating, and his hands never seemed to stop shaking. To top it all off, his roommates were loud, obnoxious, and generally dicks. He could never seem to find a moment's peace. 



That is, until he found a coffee shop down the street from the library that was open 24/7. It was a dimly lit place, filled with vintage furniture, massive bookshelves you could borrow from, and a jukebox loaded up with music from just about every era. The coffee wasn't actually that good, but it was dirt cheap, and the shop was always quiet despite being fairly busy. He wasn't sure why, but the place drew in a gothic crowd. Not his usual vibe, but he could appreciate black leather and a well fitted corset. 



The most important thing was that he could sit down and study without being bothered. 



It was on one night, when he was sitting at a back table, caffeinated out of his mind and hands shaking more than usual, that he was approached. A pale man with dark hair and darker eyes; he was wearing a dress shirt that looked like silk and pants that looked like leather, both black. There was also a woman, dark red dyed hair, face painted porcelain white with red and black eyeshadow and black lipstick; she wore a floor length gown, red with black sheer fabric layered over it, and a black corset pulled tight around her waist and only went up to just below her bust. 



Compared to many of the other regulars, they were dressed really tame, but his mouth still went dry, as the man pulled out a chair for the woman, and then joined her in sitting across from him. Before they even started speaking the man gave him a look, and for a split second there was a twitch of a smirk on his stoic face. That's when Lucas knew he was done for. 

 

"I've seen you here a lot recently." The red head said, resting her chin on her hands. "What's your name?" 



"Oh uh, Lucas!" He said a little too quickly, snapping out of his daze. "It's Lucas."


He felt her thick platform boot rubbing up and down the side of his leg and nearly yelped. 


"Are you from around here?" She asked as if nothing was happening.


"T-The college down the street." Good Lord he had started to stutter. "I'm a student at the college down the street." 


"Oh," She said simply, as she moved her boot from the outside of his leg to the inside. 


The man hadn't said a word the entire time, just leaned back in his chair, eyes locked on Lucas, and one arm draped over the back of the women's chair. His gaze was intense. Neutral, but intense. He was just as beautiful as the woman he accompanied- 



Slam!


Lucas's train of thought was cut off but the man's foot slamming down on the chair between his legs and for a second, he couldn't breathe. That look was on the man's face again, the shadow of a smirk. 


"She asked you a question." The man said calmly. 


"Oh uh, I'm sorry." Lucas said, snapping back to reality. "What did you say?" 



"I asked if you're roommates would mind if you stayed at our place tonight?" The woman said with a little laugh.  


What the fuck was happening? It's not like he'd never been picked up before, but this was completely different. This was the kind of thing you joked about but never actually happened. There was no way, right? 



"Are you going to answer?" The man prompted again. 



Lucas looked back and forth between the two people in front of him. This just couldn't be for real. 



*****



He realized, as he sat in the back of a black car with tinted windows, that it was very possible this could go bad. They could be trying to rob him or even be serial killers for all he knew, but in the moment, he didn't care one bit. Natalia, she had told him their names when she shoved him into the car, was straddling him and kissing him harshly. She was so aggressive in her assault of his lips he wondered if she would bite him. Arche, so he had been told was her "partner’s?" name, was driving casually, as if nothing was happening in the back seat. 



He was almost scared to touch her, like it would wake him up from whatever dream he was having, but pushed through the fear and wrapped his arms around her tentatively. 

 


They didn't drive far before the car pulled over. Natalia didn't let go of him until Arche opened the door and literally yanked Lucas out by his shirt. The man dragged him into a nearby apartment building. It was rundown, bricks chipping, walls peeling, lights flashing, graffiti everywhere. Arche was shoving him around like baggage, still gripping his shirt. He was starting to think that they really were going to murder him, and when Arche shoved him into a door and started making out with him as well, he immediately stopped caring again. 



The door behind him opened and he was pushed back into a dark apartment, unaware of his surroundings until the back of his legs hit a table. With hands all over him he realized how starved he'd been. How alone. He wanted this so bad, whatever this was going to be. Arche leaned over Lucas to kiss and nip at his neck, and he watched over the aggressive man's shoulder to see Natalia strutting in and slamming the door behind her. It took an agonizing moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Moonlight shined through the windows offering some help, and he was able to see the shape of Natalia, slowly pulling at her corset lacing. He realized why she had been dressed so simple when the corset dropped to the floor, dress falling with it. It was an easy outfit to take off. 



        She strutted across the room, long legs like a model, and disappeared behind him. Arche's bites were getting more aggressive, and he hissed in pain. Soothing hands touched his shoulders and Natalia's legs slid against his, and he felt her press against his back. Her lips caressed the opposite side of his neck from her partner, and her hands appeared to stroke down his torso. It was when she started unbuttoning his pants that he started fading away, disappearing into all the sensations. Pleasure and a tinge of pain. Her hands where in his pants then-



        "AHHHH'' he screamed, a sharp spike of pain running through every nerve in his body. He jumped down from the table falling to the floor, hands fumble around his neck in the dark. He felt something hot and wet on his hands. He looked down at them and could only see dark on his fingers. The pair was laughing almost hysterically, and he didn't think, he just ran. Their laughter only grew louder, chasing him down the halls, echoing through the abandoned building. He ran, and he ran, and he didn't stop until he got to his dorm. 



        His roommates were shouting at him as he came in, but he couldn't hear anything except the sound of his own heartbeat. He went straight to the bathroom, locking the door behind. It was no wonder his roommates had started yelling. His reflection in the mirror looked like a crime scene, soaked in blood from his chin to his waist. He yanked his shirt off in a panic and looked closer in the mirror to see the two sets of puncture wounds on his neck. Fang marks.



        He breathed deep, slowing his heart rate, and he came to the realization... he had completely fumbled. 


Monday, February 19, 2024

Poem: Trying

 



(Text for screen readers)


Title: Trying


I'm trying 


Everyday I get up and I try


For you


I try to live


I try to breath


I try to be everything you need of me


I'm trying so hard, can't you see?


I'm trying


Everyday I get up,

 so grateful I find the strength to


It's all for you


I try to be mother, artist, lover


I try in so many directions 

I don't know where I am 


But I promise tomorrow, 

to get up and try again 



Wednesday, January 17, 2024

Mini Series: Seven Nights #5



The Sixth Night 

    

    He sat on the bedroom floor, eating green beans from a can. He hadn't slept and he only knew it was day, because of the slivers of light slipping through the sloppily hung drapes. His mind could only offer maddening thoughts.


    He was all alone in this place.


    What if none of it was real?


    What if he was losing it? 


    The walls closed in, the air almost too heavy to breathe, his lungs straining. He had no plan to get out, pain still shooting up his leg, and was too tired to think.


    It occurred to him, just for a moment, that he might die there.


    A sound filled the room, that he didn't quite register at first. He thought it was a ringing in his ears, but that kind of ringing didn't have a beat. He shot up straight and scrambled across the floor to his phone, clutching it tightly and answering without even looking at who it was.


    "Hello?!" He said desperately, hands shaking.


    "Tim?" A soft and familiar voice said. "It's me, Bre." 


    "Bre?" He said confused. He hadn't heard from his old friend in years.    


     "I just heard about your break up," she said. "I was so worried and no one can seem to find you. Are you hiding out somewhere?" 


    "I-I-I'm in France." He stuttered out. He was really starting to question his sanity. Was he really on the phone with Bre? The last time he had spoken to her it had been a huge fight. She had wanted him to dump his boyfriend; she said James was a red flag and couldn't be trusted. Tim hadn't listened to her then. 


    "France!?" She exclaimed. "What are you doing all the way over there!?" 


    "Long story." He said. "I inherited my grandfather's place… I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. You were right about everything from the start and I-"


    "Hey, hey! It's ok." She reassured him. "All that matters now is that you're ok." 


    "I want to see you." He said, hands shaking. "I want to come home." 


    "I don't think that's a good idea." She said, "Listen. James is looking for you everywhere. He even went to your parents' place. It wasn't pretty. It's safer for you there right now." 


    He sat in silence staring at the wardrobe in front of the bedroom door. 


    "Hey, I'll come to you." She said, "I'll get some tickets, and come to you as soon as I can, I promi-" 


    The call cut out as the battery on his phone finally died. Once again he was alone.     


    Or was he? 



    He had replayed the previous night in his head over and over, it seemed like the Gargoyle had been trying to help him. There were old myths about Gargoyles warding off evil, and if ghosts and spirits were real, then maybe. Just maybe.


    When night had fallen again he reluctantly walked out into the halls once more. He wandered, listening closely for the 'THUD-thud THUD-thud THUD-thud THUD-thud' of footsteps. He gripped the cane in his hands tighter as the whispers began, but he kept moving. His leg throbbed as the voices drew louder and then-


    THUD-thud THUD-thud THUD-thud THUD-thud


    The voices quieted. The shadows scattered. He watched with bated breath and shaking hands, as the stone beast showed itself. It walked slow, hunched over, out of the darkness of the corridors ahead. This close, he could hear its heavy breathing and see the animalistic sheen of its red eyes. Their eyes were locked, but for some reason —maybe because of the other night— Tim wasn't afraid. 


    “Hello?,” he said cautiously. 



    It stared at him, unresponsive, almost seeming like stone once again. He took a step closer to it, then another. 



    “You shouldn't be here.” A voice like gravel rolled out of its maw, and Tim jumped out of his skin. 



    He hadn't actually been expecting it to talk.



    “I-I'm sorry?” Tim said, unsure how else to respond. 



    “Humans are not safe in this place,” it- no he replied. “Not now that they are let in.” 



    “I noticed,” Tim said awkwardly. “But I can't leave.” 



    “As you wish.” The Gargoyle started to turn away from him, and he jumped forward in a panic.



    “Wait!,” he exclaimed, hand outstretched. 



    The Gargoyle actually stopped, and looked back to Tim with his red gaze. 



    “Please, I don't want to be alone.” It was a desperate plea from deep in his bones. 



    He was so tired, and it wasn't just the house. He was so tired of feeling alone. His loneliness was consuming him just as much as the fear. He couldn't bear it a second longer. He needed someone. Anyone. Yes, even the spooky fucking Gargoyle. 



    The silence stretched across the hall between them before the Gargoyle finally said, “As you wish.”



    The large creature walked towards him with his heavy steps and Tim found himself being picked up and carried, one strong arm behind his back and the other beneath his legs. He wanted to protest but only stutters left his mouth, unable to speak out of pure embarrassment. The last time he had been carried like this was… he didn't think he'd ever been carried like this before. 



    Despite his reservation, the deceptively stone colored skin pressed against him was soft, and warmth leached into his body for the first time since coming to the cursed place. There was such strength in the limbs that held him, an assurance that he wouldn't be dropped. It was impossible not to relax into them. He was carried all the way back to the master bedroom, the Gargoyle having to hunch through the door, and was placed on the bed. There was a moment, a single moment where the strange being leaned over him, that his mouth went dry and his mind went places far away from reality. Then he moved away and it was gone as quickly as it had come. 



    “Sleep.” The Gargoyle said as he sat in front of the door. 



    Tim just stared at him; it was completely surreal. 



    “Sleep.” He said again more firmly.



    “Will you come closer?” Tim asked. 



    Silence, another awkward pause, and then he moved to the floor by the side of the bed. Maybe it was childish. Maybe it was desperation. Tim reached his hand out and touched the Gargoyle’s arm. Feeling the warmth in his hand, and finally being able to rest. 



Part 1: https://mangothoughtswritingblog.blogspot.com/2023/06/mini-series-seven-nights.html


Part 2: https://mangothoughtswritingblog.blogspot.com/2023/06/mini-series-seven-nights-2.html


Part 3: https://mangothoughtswritingblog.blogspot.com/2023/07/mini-series-seven-nights-3.html


Part 4: https://mangothoughtswritingblog.blogspot.com/2023/07/mini-series-seven-nights-4.html 

Short Story: Open 24/7

  Open 24/7 The world was filled with horrors. Some beyond comprehension and others tangible and far too real. For Lucas nothing was more ...