Fat Off Sex and Violence (14 page)

            He was in her before he knew it and he didn’t ever want it to stop.

***

Kronos’s snores still rocked the apartment, smashing through the air like amplified thunder. Gary lay on his back as the neighbor girl rocked on top of him. The ferocity in her eyes had relaxed and was replaced by the lazy squint of ecstasy.

            Though Gary was living his dream at that moment, minus the open corpse beneath him and the blood covering the girl, he looked past her to Mary Jane who sat just beside the bed. The feedling ate sloppily, her eyes squeezed shut as she gorged herself.

            Yes, this girl was the most gorgeous girl Gary had ever seen. Part of him never wanted her to stop grinding on him, taking him into her. But he couldn’t get the image of Sheila out of his head, the screwdriver going in and out of her, the metal stained red, the Philips-head tip thick with gore.

            So, as he saw Mary Jane entranced by the meal he was providing for her, he shoved the neighbor girl square in the chest as hard as he could.  She tumbled backward and smashed the back of her head against Mary Jane’s plump face.

            Gary’s dick was like a slimy thumbs up. Before he could see what damage he had done, if any, he was off the bed, on his feet, and running out of the bedroom. He heard chasing footsteps and a squeak escaped his throat as he checked over his shoulder. The neighbor girl was on his heels, her breasts swaying, her face twisted into a grimace.

            “Get back in here and fuck me!”

            As he sprinted through the living room, he saw Kronos, still on his back, fast asleep. The girl reached for Gary and scraped her nails across his ass cheeks.

            “Leave me alone!” He turned on her, pointed at her with his slick erection. She looked like a baseball player sliding into home as she glided across the floor on her knees, and in the next moment, Gary’s cock was in her mouth. And just beyond her stood Mary Jane, her eyes fiery and trained on him.

           
Oh fuck.

           
As she took steady steps toward him, she hopped up into the air like a baby bird trying to pluck a worm from its mother’s beak and snatched the remaining globs of sex floating there. But Gary could tell from the brightness of her eyes that she was only partially satiated.

            The neighbor girl slurped on him, gagged. Mary Jane’s eyes spotlighted the yellow exploding from the blowjob, and as she approached, she ate.

           
Goddamnit.

           
Gary grabbed the back of the girl’s head and worked his hips, faster and faster. Yellow globs blew from his groin like exhaust from a smoke stack. Mary Jane’s movements slowed as she continued to eat.

            He grabbed handfuls of the girl’s hair, slammed himself into her over and over. Her teeth scraped against him and she giggled and gagged at the same time.

            A volcanic shudder ran up the length of his body, from the tips of his toenails to the points of his hair, and he bared his teeth and growled. As the cum sprayed directly down the girl’s throat, a colossal blob of yellow sex swam into the air.

            Mary Jane saw it and breathed in, sucking the food toward her at jet speed. It hit her like a cannonball, took her off her feet. She landed on her back, chewing and slurping. Her eyes faded until blinking out, and then the snores came.

            And it was music to Gary’s ears. He checked behind him and saw that Kronos, though still lightly snoring, was shifting in his sleep.

           
Gotta
get to Sheila. Gotta get the fuck away from here. Gotta—

           
“W-what the fuck are you doing in here?”

            The burst of sudden voice startled Gary and he blinked away his thoughts and looked down into the wide, bloodshot eyes of the girl. She had her eyes locked on his, then they descended and found his erection. Her lip trembled and her nose wrinkled as she backed away on her hands and knees, then all at once realized she was nude.

           
“What the fuck did you do to me!”

            “It’s not…I didn’t…let me explain.” Gary had his hands out in front of him and he shook his head as he took backward steps toward the door. Kronos shifted again, grunted, then let out a faint snore.

            The girl smacked her mouth, tasting it, then retched onto the floor. “You sick motherfucker…you raped me. Why is there blood on me?” She jumped to her feet, screamed, wept as she jetted toward her bedroom.

           
Time to go.

           
As Gary’s hand wrapped around the knob, the girl’s shriek ripped through his skull and nearly liquefied his brain. He slammed the door shut behind him and went straight for Sheila’s apartment. His nude body tightened as the cold air of the night hit him.

            “Sheila? Where are you?” he said as he stumbled in.

            “G-gary?” Her voice sounded weak, barely above a whisper.

            Gary was just glad she could respond at all as he shot toward her bedroom.

            “Sheila…Mom, I…”

            She sat on her bedroom floor, wrapped in her comforter and backed into a corner. Tears and snot made her face shine. When she saw Gary standing in her doorway, a fresh sob rocked her shoulders and she held her arms out.

            “Gary…oh god I thought you were dead.” She looked at him with hurt creasing her face. “What…what happened to you? Did Chester do that to your face?”

            He ran to her, wanting nothing more than to feel the safety of his mother’s arms, to feel her surrounding him with her unconditional love. Even as he remembered he was completely nude, wearing only the saliva of the girl next door and the blood of her butchered boyfriend, he still wrapped his arms around Sheila and squeezed.

            She rocked him, ran her fingertips over his scalp. No sex act could have felt that good. “What’s happening, Gary? W-what’s going on?”

            “It’s me. It’s all because of me,” he said, sniffling between each word. “It’s all my fault…I just wanted to know what it felt like…to not be me…to not be made fun of all time. I—”

            The front door slammed against the wall.

           
Oh shit. Now what?

           
For once, Gary’s worst fear was not that Chester was coming home. Before Gary had time to process what was happening, rapid footsteps pounded toward the bedroom.

            “Someone’s inside,” Sheila said.

            Gary rolled off of his mother and they both tried scrambling to their feet.

            “You motherfucker!” The neighbor girl stood in the bedroom doorway holding a baseball bat over her head. Her immaculate body was covered with an oversized football jersey that hung loosely from her bloody torso.

            “Wait…wait,” Gary said as he shielded his mother, standing between her and the crazed neighbor. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

            The girl charged, her eyes digging holes into his head as she came. She swung the bat, caught Gary in the left arm.

            He cried out, tried to grab the weapon away from her, but she pulled it free and hit him again. The metal made a pinging sound as it struck him.

            “Get the fuck outta my apartment!” Sheila tried to force her way past Gary, but he held her back.

            “He…he murdered my boyfriend,” the girl said through sobs, then swung at Gary, barely missing his face. “He fucking raped me!”

            Gary reached out for the bat again, but stumbled. His forehead cracked against the side of the television stand and his face bounced off the floor. Blood filled his mouth and his vision blurred. And then the pain was there, like a headache on fire. Barely audible above the ringing in his ears was shouting and yelling, and Gary could only watch as Sheila wrestled with the girl—even weak from blood loss she put up a good fight.

            And then the room was lit with red light.

***

Clay hit the woman in the face with the tire iron, then again, kept hitting her until she resembled a ruined pile of meat quivering in the back of the van.

             He couldn’t remember who she was or why he was in the van with her, but it just felt so damn good to hit her, so he kept doing it.

            Outside of the van, he heard grunts and growls, and even though he was having so much fun, he stepped out of the vehicle to see what was going on. He gripped the tire iron, sticky with fluids, and ground his teeth as he stepped down onto the concrete.

            Chaos all around. Beautiful chaos. People attacked one another all over the place. There was no prejudice in the violence as women attacked men, children attacked the elderly, animals attacked everyone. Fists and teeth and claws and weapons. Blood everywhere.

            Clay laughed, ran toward a man who was stomping the head of a small girl into a curb. The girl held a jagged bottle, and every time the foot slammed into the side of her head, she jabbed at the leg with it.

Clay smashed the tire iron against the man’s face, and when the man stumbled forward, the little girl jabbed the jagged bottle into his neck, twisted it.  

            The girl rose to her feet, her face looking like leftover lasagna, and stabbed the man’s neck again.

            Bored with this, Clay looked around for someone else to play with. He realized he wasn’t wearing any pants, couldn’t remember why, but he ignored it as he continued on.

People outside of the complex in the street rioted. Clay could hardly contain himself as he watched so many potential playmates run by or maul each other.

            He looked toward the complex and furrowed his brow. Something nagged at him, as if there was something he was supposed to do.

            But he was having far too much fun to worry about anything else but the pandemonium surrounding him.

***

Chester spat a loogey into the urinal, then pissed on it. Betsy was behind him pulling her shirt back on. She wiped the tears from her face and the blood from her lip.

            “Don’t you go making a big deal out of this, Betsy.” Chester shook his dick and tucked it back into his jeans. He didn’t bother to flush the toilet as he turned to face the older woman. “I told you I didn’t wanna feel no teeth.”

            “You didn’t have to hit me,” she said as she stuffed her flappy tits into the orange spaghetti strap shirt. “It was an accident.”

            Chester laughed. “It was a reflex, baby. I didn’t mean it.” But he did mean it. He had wanted to hit something all night, really let someone have it. But not Sheila. As much as she pissed him off, and as much as he truly hated Gary, he did love her. At least he thought he did. He made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t beat on her, not all the time anyway. Not like he had in the past. So feeling his knuckles crunch against Betsy’s face was almost enough to make him cum again. Anyway, the bitch was tough, and Chester knew she could take it much better than Sheila could.

            “Well, I’m charging you an extra ten for the punch, asshole.”

            Chester chuckled as he pulled the cash from his wallet. “I shouldn’t pay you shit for scraping my junk with your yellow ass teeth.” He tossed the crumpled bills to the floor—one of the fives soaked up some piss where it landed.

            “Fuck you, Chester.”

            Chester had his mouth open to reply, but the raucous coming from outside caught his attention. “What in the hell?”

            Betsy scooped up her money and stood behind Chester as he inched toward the bathroom door. Loud voices and gasping and muffled cussing coming from the bar.

            Chester pulled the door open, didn’t hold it for Betsy, and stepped out. Everyone was looking out the glass panes, crawling over each other to see whatever it was that was happening outside.

            “What the fuck is going on?” Chester said as he slid into the bar stool behind the huddle of rubber-neckers. He grabbed someone’s full beer from the bar and emptied half of it down his throat.

            “Don’t know. It’s like everyone’s gone mad out there,” Rudy the bartender said.

            “What?”

            Rudy shrugged, pointed out the window.

            Chester downed the rest of the beer and headed out the front door. Betsy stood on the sidewalk, her hand covering her mouth.

            “What in the hell is…” Chester stood next to Betsy and they both stared without speaking.

            It looked like a scene straight out of hell.

            Three or four blocks up, bodies flailed and thrashed. The shouts and screams exploded into the air, and even from that distance, Chester could see the blood staining the street and sidewalks.

           
Sheila…she’s at home.

           
Chester loved his fiancée, but from the looks of things, she was already dead or she would be soon. And Chester detached himself in that moment, figured he would rather live to love another day than try and save her.

            “B-back inside,” he said to nobody. He turned, saw Betsy staring slackjawed into the distance. He shoved her. “Get back inside. Now!”

—13—

Gary lifted himself to a sitting position, but his head pleaded with him to lie back down. He forced himself to his feet and faced the girl and his mother who still fought over the baseball bat.

            Kronos stepped into view, smiled at Gary with his Great-White grin. His eyes were like spotlight laser beams, and they flooded the room with red.

            Gary stepped forward to help Sheila, but before he could she wrenched the bat away from the girl, clocked her in the side of the face with the butt of it. A tooth spat from the girl’s mouth and thumped against Gary’s forehead.