Satanic Panic- A Homage to 1980's B-Movie Horror

by Daniel P Coughlin

  Brock lowered Grady from his shoulders and nearly dropped him onto his face before ordering another round of shots. They chased the shots—tequila this time—with a couple of light beers. Lance injected himself into the fun.

  “How’s it going, bro?” Grady addressed Lance with a handshake.

  He kissed Brianna. “Hey, babe.”

  “I’m good, my man. You?” Lance responded. He hated Grady’s California accent.

  “Funniest thing ... I got invited to a Boxed Wine and Porno party. Never heard of such a thing, but it sounds pretty tight. You wanna go?” He looked to Brianna.

  Brock laughed, clasped his hand on Grady’s right shoulder and said, “Dude, we were gonna ask you if you wanted to go. Brianna said she wouldn’t go without you, bro. You think you could persuade her?”

  “For sure, bro.” Grady nodded and took down a shot of Jameson that the bartender extended to him on the house. Then he looked to Brianna. “Let’s go. It’ll be twisted-hella-fun.”

  “Are you sure this is cool? I wasn’t gonna go to a party like that with two guys that aren’t my boyfriend.” Brianna whispered in Grady’s ear, but Lance heard her clearly. “I can’t get all hot and bothered without my man.”

  Grady smiled, nibbled on Brianna’s ear and finished his beer.

  “Sweet.” Brock dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the bar.

  5

  Wisconsin winters had a sharp bite. The holiday season was only a month ahead, but the climate had cooled significantly. The golden, earthy colored leaves had fallen from barren trees. The rustic scenery had been replaced by snow. The group of inebriated youths skipped and hollered down Ninth Street untethered by the icy weather and in good spirits. About a half-mile away from campus, down a residential street they stopped in front of a run-down three-story Victorian house. Ten or fifteen partygoers huddled around the porch smoking cigarettes while a few others puffed on joints. All appeared jolly on this frigid evening.

  Brianna shared an embarrassed chuckle with Brock when the audible panting of a woman echoed from within the three-storied Victorian house. A party like this allowed sex to be casual. Being of the college age allowed for an excuse to throw an event like a boxed wine and porn party. The topic of sex positions told in a comedic setting allowed the cluttered youths—attending college and expanding their minds and views—to get worked up, make nervous jokes and ease into each other—if everything went right.

  Brock looked to Brianna, Lance, then Grady and announced, “Strap on your boners, ladies. Here we go.” Brock shot up the stairs, hugged a few random girls that he probably knew intimately, and shook hands with male acquaintances. A spicy black girl with perfectly set features and icy brown eyes placed a cigarette between Brock’s lips and he inhaled. She whispered something in his ear and he smiled. He couldn’t quite hear what she’d said, but it had something to do with her lips and his genitals, which only caused him to think of Brianna. Subconscious thought sent his glance toward Brianna as she leapt up the staircase. To his pleasure, she stared back. Quickly, she kissed Grady before he had a chance to become jealous. Brock didn’t care that Grady noticed their gaze—one of those gazes where two people know they’re entering taboo grounds.

  “Come on, you losers!” Brock beckoned.

  “Fuck you,” Lance blurted out before he dashed up the cheap termite infested staircase and nearly tripped on the first step.

  Brianna and Grady followed.

  Entering the house, loud panting and moaning echoed in stereo and a thick crowd packed the living room. Glazed eyes and near-drooling mouths gathered, magnetized to the seventy-two inch flat screen that displayed a busty blonde with giant fake breasts being mounted by two beautiful tan boys. The girl begged for sex.

  Brock glanced at the slobbering, drunken faces ingesting these animalistic images. All held cheap solo cups and sipped often from them. Smiles—either forced or genuine—were plastered to their geek faces. A few of the males kept adjusting themselves then looked up and around to ensure no one had witnessed their displacement of erections.

  Brock twisted his attentive gaze toward the girls of Delta House and caught their seduction. Gina Benchley watched him, smiled, licked her lips and then went back to holding Crayton Minten’s hand. After Crayton witnessed his girlfriend staring at Brock, he extended a scowl. Probably because he knew that Brock had slept with his girlfriend. Hell, he’d slept with everyone’s girlfriend. A few weeks ago, while Crayton stayed with his parents, she had enjoyed Brock’s presence. She didn’t seem to care about having a boyfriend while she begged for Brock to do awful things.

  A random junior sitting with his legs crossed on the floor shouted and laughed. “Is that a wart on that dude’s dick?” He raised the remote and paused the image on a genital wart lumped outward from the adult film actor’s bulging member.

  “Yuck! Ew!” A few random shrieks filled the room. Most chugged alcohol to simmer the awkwardness.

  “Hit play, dipshit.” A jock kicked the boy sitting on the floor and he pressed play.

  Jeff Torrance strolled through the party topping off solo cups with more boxed wine. He stopped in front of Lance and asked, “Where’s your box, dude?”

  “Right here.” Brianna pointed below her belt buckle.

  “Ha ha. You’re funny,” Jeff returned. “Hot chicks are cool, I’m talking about Brock, Lance, and this dude.” He pointed to Grady.

  “Can I give you some money?” Grady asked.

  “I was really clear about everyone bringing boxed wine.”

  Lance chimed in, “Take it easy, Jeff.”

  “No, bro. I hate that shit. Get the memo.” Jeff frowned, clearly disappointed.

  “I totally understand,” Lance returned.

  “Dudes, you’re good for now, but if we start running low you assholes are walking to the store.” Jeff shook his head and moved on, continuing to fill drinks.

  “What a dick,” Brianna whispered.

  “Yeah, but I recall that he was pretty intense about the whole bring boxed wine thing.”

  “Fuck him. Half these chicks wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me,” Brock gloated as he grabbed a solo cup from the counter.

  The four walked into the kitchen, which crawled with more horny college kids. One couple obnoxiously groped each other in the corner by the cheap stove while a few uppity drunk boys watched and giggled. Everyone laughed at the couple when her ass knocked the toaster onto the floor.

  “Get some!” Brock called out.

  The girl parted from the boy, smiled at Brock, grabbed her boyfriend’s crotch and shrugged her shoulders. The girl trailed off toward the staircase that led to the upstairs bedrooms. The stoned boys cackled and harassed them as they went.

  “Fuck her, everyone else has!”

  “Make sure you lick it before you stick it!” A girl called out. She was clearly inebriated and almost fell down after barking.

  Throughout the party there were couples kissing or chatting. Their faces close with intent or watching each other with lustful eyes. Brock liked this atmosphere and the consistent tone. This was the perfect place to proposition Brianna.

  Now, how was he going to get rid of Grady?

  When Jeff Torrance bumped into him a few minutes later on his way to the bathroom, Brock devised a quick plan.

  “Jeff!” Brock called out.

  It took Jeff a moment to figure out where his name was being called from, but eventually he found Brock’s smirk and shook his head. “Fuck do you want?”

  “Hey, if you want, Grady will go get you that boxed wine.”

  “Dude, it’s cool, just try and be cool next time. Everyone else brought booze or porn or some other shit. You just showed up,” Jeff continued.

  “You’d be doing both of us a favor if you got that California dude out of here for a few minutes,” Brock influenced.

  “You trying to bone his chick or something?”

  “Something like that. And you owe me. Half these chicks wouldn’t be
here if I wasn’t.”

  Jeff pondered this fact before he nodded approvingly.

  6

  Grady knew that his relationship with Brianna wouldn’t last. Still, he enjoyed being with her. She was beautiful, smart, and fun to be around. Brock and Lance were cool, but their relationship with Brianna was odd, Grady thought. He got it, they’d grown up on the same street in some small Wisconsin town and they thought of each other like family. But she spent every waking minute with them. It was a little weird. Everyone on campus believed the rumors that Lance, Brock, and Brianna secretly had three-way sex, but Brianna emphatically denied these rumors and Grady believed her. Still, the idea had entered Grady’s mind on occasion. He was certain that Lance was in love with her. That was obvious by the way he looked at her when he didn’t know anyone was watching. But Grady had twenty-twenty peripheral vision. The protective nature that Lance provided for her was an indicator too. When she wasn’t looking he was always watching her, checking out her body, staring at her with lustful eyes. But Grady accepted this behavior. He was getting what he wanted from her. Beside that, he knew she wasn’t into Lance. Maybe Brock, but not Lance. When Grady had sex with Brianna it was fantastic. She wasn’t quite willing to experiment the way he wanted her to, but she was spontaneous and knew how to push and pull and excite him to the point that he would have to think cold thoughts in order to simmer down. And her ass was an American treasure. He could stare at her rump-bump for hours. She worked out all the time. Granted, she was at this university on an athletic scholarship, so that kept her going, but she liked to workout after practice too. He was a lucky guy and he’d treasure this relationship as long as it lasted. He’d never stay in this state forever either and she wasn’t necessarily California material. He only wanted to live in the Midwest for a few of his college years. Being from California, he felt the need to escape the endless summer and see how the rest of the country lived. And it was cool, but he wanted to get back to the land of sunshine. He missed surfing and hanging out at the beach. He had a special group of friends. They hadn’t grown up on the same block, but they were close and shared many of the same interests.

  Grady’s thoughts snapped back to the party when he felt a solid grip land on his forearm. Anger seized him for a moment and then he realized that it was Jeff, the owner of the house.

  “Hey man, what’s up?” Grady smiled.

  “Hey dude, we’re running low on boxed wine. I’ve been looking for Lance and Brock, but they’re probably blowing each other in the bathroom. I’d ask Brianna, but that seems kind of rude, her being a chick and all.”

  Grady hated being the gopher that had to make the booze run. Back home he was too cool for this, but he understood. The house was running low on alcohol and he hadn’t shown up with the required materials for entrance. “Yeah, is there a liquor store around here?”

  “Yeah, bro. Just hang a right at the end of Ninth and you’ll see a convenience store next to the Laundromat. Pick up two boxes of something white and we’ll be alright.”

  “No problem,” Grady said and felt a tug on his elbow, He turned to find Brianna.

  “What was that all about?” she asked.

  “Your buddies are MIA and someone needs to pick up more booze. You gonna be alright here for a few minutes if I run out?” Grady asked.

  “I think I’ll be alright. I might get groped by a drunken dipshit, but Lance and Brock are around to make sure nothing bad happens.”

  “Good.” Grady checked his pockets, ensuring that he had enough scratch to afford a couple boxes of wine.

  How much was a box of wine? Ten bucks?

  He pulled out a wad of twenties and a ten, nodded, and then left into the chilly night air.

  7

  From the upstairs bedroom, Brock watched Grady stuff his hands into his pockets, lower his head to block the cold from his neck, and then stroll down the sidewalk toward the liquor store. Brock waited for Grady to round the corner before he pulled out his cell phone and texted Brianna to come upstairs. About three minutes later the bedroom door creaked open and Brianna’s confused expression appeared, backlit by the flickering fluorescent hallway light.

  “What the hell is this creepiness? Are you guys gonna like come out of the closet or something?”

  Brianna was cracking jokes, but still didn’t seem to be at ease with this situation. Brock couldn’t blame her. He and Lance were tucked away in a small bedroom on the third floor where no one was supposed to be.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure Lance is gay. And I get that this is awkward, but I need to talk to you about something.” Brock said. He motioned for her to sit on a ratty reclining chair.

  With some skepticism she took her seat.

  “What’s up?” Brianna asked.

  “This is gonna be weird. I told him not to, but he’s insisting,” Lance stated, shaking his head as he turned away from Brianna.

  “Insisting on what?” Brianna was starting to look annoyed.

  “So, we’ve known each other all of our lives. We’ve done everything together.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I want to try something. The three of us,” Brock continued. He was watching Brianna squirm in her chair. She looked from Lance to Brock and then shook her head.

  “Do I want to know where this is headed?” she asked.

  “Yes, you know you do.” Brock stepped closer. “I want us to experience a three-way together.”

  Brianna stood, laughed hysterically, and walked toward the door.

  Brock grabbed her arm, hard and she stopped. He had her attention. She didn’t say anything, not stop, or fuck off. Nothing. She was considering the proposition and he knew it.

  “I’ve wanted this for a long time. We’re friends, yes, but we’ve reached an age where our curiosities are starting to get the best of us. I want us to experience each other.”

  “Like me being a girlfriend to both of you?” she asked.

  “No. Like, we arrange a date to explore all of our fantasies that we’ve had for one another. I have them. You have them. Lance has them. Why can’t we all be mature enough to explore this together?”

  Brock watched Brianna’s glance dart toward Lance, whose face flushed red.

  Brianna took one quick look at Brock and then asked Lance, “This is your idea too?”

  “No. It’s all Brock.”

  “But you’re not saying no?” Brianna pushed.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Lance stuttered, clearly uncomfortable.

  “You could have told Brock ‘no’ and that this is a very bad idea. That it will ruin our friendship,” Brianna persisted.

  Brock had become annoyed. He retrieved his knife and spun it in his hand. “Yes, he told me all of that, but luckily for you two I’m pretty good at reading people. I know this is something that’s been on all of our minds for a while. At least I have the balls to address it. I want us to do this. If I’m right, we can take our friendship to the next level. We can be best friends, we can be like family, and we can explore our physical fantasies without guilt. We can be everything to each other and I think that we have the strength—as best friends—to do this.”

  “Can you put your stupid fucking knife away, please? Like this isn’t uncomfortable enough.” She stared at colored twinkle lights that dressed the window across the street while she waited for Brock to put the knife away before continuing. “Wow, my boyfriend is downstairs.” She turned to leave, but hadn’t pulled her arm away from Brock. It remained limp in his hand. Brock knew that she wanted to be convinced. “Lance, do you want to do this?”

  Lance’s lips moved, but, like always, nothing came out because he was nervous and couldn’t find the words.

  “Say something!” Brianna shouted. “Do you want to fuck me while he fucks me?”

  And then it happened. Brianna grabbed Lance’s face. There was no lust in her actions, but she kissed him. Lance’s expression was that of horror, but when Brock leaned in and kissed Brianna’s ear, she eased u
p. Her mouth slowed into passion and she kissed Lance with less aggression. She even panted. With a hint of jealousy, Brock moved up behind her and slowly ground into her until she could feel his hardness. She lowered her hand and rubbed the outline of his erection.

  “Is this what both of you want? Am I making you har—” Her words turned into pants when Brock slid his hand into her jeans and rubbed. Brock felt the vibration of Lance’s trembling hand. He reached for her bosom. “Okay, okay, okay... I was half kidding.”

  They parted. Brianna’s lips were swollen and red.

  “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” Lance pleaded and apologized.

  Brock smiled and said, “I want more. Is that so bad?”

  “What if I say no?’’ Brianna held a firm stance, her eyes narrowed.

  “Then we’ll pretend this never happened ... life will go back to the way it was. We’ll be friends in the morning ... all honky-dory. Cool?”

  Brianna shot her gaze toward Lance.

  Lance looked to Brock for affirmation.

  “This decision is on you, cowboy,” Brock said.

  Lance was silent for a long moment while he looked from Brianna to Brock. “Brianna, I’m sorry.”

  “For what? Be honest,” Brianna returned. There was an edge to her voice.

  “I want this and I want you, but I will do anything not to lose your friendship.”

  “And that means?” Brianna tapped her foot without noticing that she’d done so.

  “That means that I think Brock is right. I think we all want to explore and experience each other. And I think that we’re strong enough to do this without getting hurt or jealous or destructive with our friendship.”

  “Brianna?” Brock asked in a low voice. For the first time in a long time he sounded sincere, genuine.

  Brianna stood silent. Then she stepped toward Lance, placed her lips gently against his, and held his kiss. Soon, their tongues twisted into something passionate. Brock stepped forward as if invited, but Brianna stiff-armed his chest to keep him at bay.