by Patrick Kill
“Give your son a kiss.” Jenny urged.
Nathan complied just to keep her calm. He lowered his lips and kissed the cold flesh-like lump. It tasted briefly of copper and salt. He gagged. Took a breath. Then threw up.
* * *
Nathan’s parents were expected to arrive any minute.
He paced the floor as Jenny was changing Daniel’s diaper and was readying herself to change Nathan Jr. as well.
Holy shit, Nathan thought. He had planned to sneak into the nursery the night before and take the piece of afterbirth for a long ride. He was planning on telling Jenny that Nathan Jr. had been stolen. But then she would call the cops. They would surely take her away and he would be stuck with Daniel and he had no idea how to take care of an infant yet.
“Come here, honey!” Jenny called “Look! Nathan Jr. has got his first messy diaper.”
Nathan closed his eyes and started to laugh, madly.
He went to the changing table and saw what Jenny was pointing to. But, of course, it wasn’t a turd. A rotted piece had just broken off the mass and fallen into the diaper. Jenny smiled, using the wet wipes on it, smearing dried blood all over the place. She replaced the diaper and tossed the old one in the Diaper Genie.
The doorbell rang.
Nathan had to stall. But he heard the door open and his dad yell, “We’re here. Where’s my precious new darlings at?”
“Did he say ‘darlings’?” Nathan said to himself. He knew right away that Jenny had called them without him knowing it.
Jenny handed Nathan the shriveled body of his so-called son and walked with Daniel in to greet them. Nathan stayed behind, hearing a dog bark in the living room. Oh God, he thought, they even brought Spot along.
His mind spiraled; his body shook. But then he began to smile for the first time since the birth.
He laughed harder, glancing down at the oblong piece of placenta lodged in his arms. “Gootchie, gootchie goo,” he said, tickling it, then he doubled over, pain shooting through his stomach as he tried to muffle his laughter. He envisioned Daniel growing up alongside his placenta-brother. Playing baseball in the backyard. Nathan Jr. in the outfield as birds swooped from the trees, pecking off crusty chunks of his body. He thought about going to King’s Island where Nathan Jr. couldn’t ride the roller coasters since he was only a 1-foot tall piece of rotten flesh. He thought about the first day of kindergarten, the unlucky girl set up on Nathan Jr.’s first blind date and, of course, all the immunizations he’d have to go through in order to get into school.
Visions struck at Nathan as he grabbed the pacifier from the dresser and shoved it into the half-rotten mass of a baby. The rubber nipple penetrated the shell as blood oozed across Nathan’s hand. A putrid stench wafted to his nose.
He laughed harder and said, “This is fucked up, Junior!” He held the piece of placenta in the air, level with his face. “Daddy’s sorry, but he’s not going to live like this. Your mother’s a psychotic bitch and you’re just a fleshy piece of rotted innards. So fuck you both!”
Spot barked in the living room again. And Nathan suddenly had an idea.
He whistled, then heard Spot’s dog tags come rattling into the nursery.
“Here boy! Got a little treat for you,” Nathan said as Spot sat in front of him.
Nathan peeled the diaper off the afterbirth and dropped the crusty mass onto the floor.
Spot circled it, not knowing what to think. He jumped at it, then barked. Finally he dove into the mass and shook it wildly until dried, crusty portions broke off and flew against the wall. As Spot bit deeper, he discovered a moist center. Strings of mucus-blood sprayed against the blue walls. The dog clutched the half-rotted clump of placenta and began chewing, ripping the center apart.
Nathan just stood there and watched, laughing out loud as the dog swallowed hard.
Even when Jenny entered the nursery and released a bloodcurdling scream at the sight of Spot’s new chew toy, Nathan’s laughter only grew.
* * *
Nathan couldn’t stop laughing. And the scary thing was that it wasn’t the least bit funny. He knew his mind had taken a turn for the worse. But at least that was the end of the twins. No more masquerade that a second child existed.
Jenny had somehow left the nursery and managed to convince Nathan’s parents that Nathan Jr. was ill and they would have to come another time. But, strangely, she kept Spot.
Nathan curled under the bed covers. He didn’t care if she killed Spot. It would be the least of his worries at this point. He was exhausted from laughing madly and from the stress of having to watch his girlfriend turn into some kind of lunatic. He rocked back and forth beneath the sheets, blocking out the rest of the world until sleep came.
* * *
Jenny woke him around midnight.
“Nathan Jr. wants to sleep with you,” Jenny said.
Nathan lay paralyzed with fear under the covers.
He felt Jenny pulling on the sheets beside him. Before she departed, she said, “Now don’t roll over on him.”
Nathan hoped it was all a nightmare. But when he surfaced from the covers and focused through the darkness, he could feel something beside him. And it wasn’t cold this time. It was actually warm.
He felt through the darkness and his hands reached under the sheet beside him.
His heart raced.
And he finally felt the origin of warmth.
His hands touched the warm surface that suddenly squished between his fingers.
And suddenly, he smelled dog shit wafting through the bedroom.
Tequila Son
James shuffled his way through the crowd and situated himself at the bar. Smoke lingered like a faint wave of fog rolling past the pinball machines, over the television where WWF wrestling was displayed. He looked around the crowd, searching for a familiar face, but, instead, met eyes with a woman with long blonde-hair, in her early twenties, who smiled back. He had never seen her at the bar before and figured she was an out-of-towner or a first time visitor from the local college.
“What do you got, Mick? Anything new?” he asked the bartender.
Mick nodded. “Got a new import from Mexico. You up for it?”
“You know me,” James said, “I’m the ultimate taste-tester!”
Mick uncapped a clear longneck bottle and slid it across the bar on a napkin.
James read the label: TEQUILA SON it stated in bold followed by the word “Light” outlined in white.
“Tequila in a beer bottle, huh?”
“Weird, eh?”
James read the ingredients, then swished around the bottle. Something pale in the bottle floated in the liquid along with debris.
“Wow, it’s even got a big fucking worm in it.”
“Look closer,” Mick said.
James squinted, holding the bottle up to the dim lights. He swished the bottle around again and the pale grub-thing spun, drifted to the edge of the bottle, then sunk. As it turned again, James figured it was about an inch or two long, but then he saw the arms and legs.
“What the f—”
He tilted the bottle at a different angle and the thing floated up to the glass. He could see it was a tiny, pale man. It even had features such as a beard and indentations in its pale body replicating a robe.
“Jesus!”
“You got it,” Mick said, laughing. “It’s supposed to be Jesus all right!”
“Why?”
“Who knows. These imports always have some kind of gimmick to them. Anything to get people to drink their product.”
Confused, James kept shaking the bottle, half-afraid to taste it.
“Maybe they took it from the old saying that you can’t find Jesus at the bottom of a bottle. Hell, I don’t know. Maybe they were trying to get religious people to drink it and collect the figurine.”
“Has anyone else tried it?”
“You’re the first. Go for it!”
James tipped the bottle and took a big gulp. The alcohol
washed over his tongue, to the back of his throat. He swished what remained around in his mouth like a real connoisseur of alcohol. His taste buds exploded with remarkable flavor. The liquor was tangy, but not bitter and had no aftertaste whatsoever. He quickly took another swig and savored the exotic flavor.
“Damn, this is fucking divine!”
“Well, maybe you just uncovered the mystery then. That must be why the little wormy Jesus is in there!”
James smiled and chugged the rest until the Jesus figure stuck to the inside of the neck. He plucked it out with his finger and inspected it. It felt like a worm or a soggy noodle, but looked exactly like the Lord and Savior.
“You’re not going to keep that, are you?”
“Hell no, that’s where all the alcohol settles,” he remarked, then popped the figure in his mouth and swallowed.
He felt lightheaded immediately. He felt the smile spreading across his face. His body felt calm and heavy as he looked around the room and suddenly caught a glimpse of the blonde approaching him.
“Hello,” she said, “My name’s Vicki.”
“James,” he said, trying to anchor down his smile before he looked like a jackass. “Have a seat.”
Vicki looked at the seat and smiled, then bent close to his ear and whispered, “I thought more on the lines of going back to my place and fucking like mad.”
James continued to stare down the low V-cut of her yellow blouse. Her well-tanned tits almost popped right out.
But for some reason, he didn’t feel aroused. And before he could think about a clever reply, he blurted out, “No. I’m sorry, but that would be wrong. To lust is to sin. And I’m not married yet, so no sex for me.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mick’s jaw drop.
The blonde looked disappointed, then embarrassed, then disgusted and departed without saying another word.
“What the hell are you doing? Are you fucking insane? She was hot!”
James glanced at Vicki returning to her table. Her tight blue jeans outlined her well-toned legs and ass. “Purity, my friend, it is your greatest possession.”
Mick shook his head and ignored him the rest of the night.
The buzz wore off on the way home and James cursed out loud, “Am I fucking insane?”
He arrived at his apartment and paced the floor. Okay, he thought, I could be fucking some hot blonde right now with big tits and a nice ass. Why the hell didn’t I take her up on it?
He suddenly remembered the tequila and Jesus in it. It had to be the alcohol talking. Any other time, he would’ve jumped in the sack with any half-decent woman, just to get his rocks off.
He lurched toward the restroom, slid across the linoleum on his knees and threw up in the toilet. Portions of his lunch splattered the bowl, then the tiny worm-Jesus trickled out, plopping into the toilet.
* * *
The next night James sat at the bar and told Mick the whole story of why he had turned the woman down.
“Good thing. I thought you were turning gay on me or something.”
“No, it had to be that drink. And that’s the last time I’ll try that stuff. It tasted so damn good, but it cost me a night of hot sex, so fuck that!”
“So try this,” Mick said, uncapping another clear bottle. He sat it on the table in front of James.
James looked at the bottle and smiled. TEQUILA SON, the label read.
“Ha ha! Very funny.”
“No, it’s not the same. Look.” Mick said, pointing again to the label.
James noticed the bottle was slightly different. It had black writing that read: DARK.
“Tequila Son Dark? Is there a Jesus in this one?”
“No.”
“Good!”
James turned the bottle around, curious. He almost jumped back when he saw the snake coiled on the inside of the bottle. “Holy shit! How’d they get that fucker in there?”
Mick shrugged his shoulders. “Beats me. Must be about ten inches long, but skinny as a worm. That must be why they only make these in longnecks! Anyway, it gives a new meaning to the concept of doing Snake Bites, huh?”
James couldn’t help but smile. “Do you think this will do the opposite? Maybe I’ll turn into a real party animal!”
“I think you’re too late,” Mick said, pointing across the bar.
James glanced across the heads of people, seeing Vicki at the same table, but with a man this time.
“It figures.”
This time James slammed the whole drink in one gulp, the liquid stopping momentarily as the snake started squeezing its way out the top. James cringed, but started slurping at the snake like he would spaghetti, taking the whole thing in his mouth. He had to chew it up into three or four pieces before he could swallow and the scales grated the skin on the roof of his mouth. He felt his teeth sever muscle and vertebrae. The taste of ice-cold blood flooded his mouth, but he managed to engulf the whole thing without gagging. The last trickle of alcohol chased the snake and he sat back.
Everything around him seemed fast, suddenly alive with energy. Lights seemed brighter, the music louder. The women looked hotter and he felt suddenly very horny.
He looked back at the table where Vicki sat and cursed softly.
His face went numb minutes later and he felt blood racing through his body. His foot started tapping by its own freewill and he felt restrained to the seat.
He peeled himself off the barstool and approached Vicki. She gave him a dirty glare, which made him feel even more pissed than he already was. He looked at the man beside her, and said, “Excuse me, but I think I’ll take your girlfriend for an hour or two.”
It even surprised James, who was usually spineless when it came to confrontation.
The man stood, giving him a pathetic look. “Yeah right!”
James punched him the nose. The man stumbled back and James wasted no time in dishing out an uppercut and kicking him in the balls. After the guy had hit the floor, James grabbed Vicki’s arm and pulled her across the table, then forced her out of the bar and into his car.
“You could’ve just asked, you know,” she said, adjusting her shirt. “I wasn’t good enough for you last night!”
“Well tonight’s another night, baby, and we’re going to my place!”
* * *
Before they even unmade the bed, James had already ripped off her clothes and tied her to the bedposts. Her luscious tits were well-rounded, her pink nipples hard and ready.
“Wow, you’re kinky,” she said, giggling.
James’ cock was so much bigger than he ever remembered it being.
He lowered his face to her clit and began lapping. She pulled at the restraints and yelled, “Oh, oh yes, oh yes, eat me, eat me, James!”
His tongue was still numb like his face, but he parted her lips with every forceful stroke of his tongue. Then he felt his stomach churn. He gripped her legs and felt sweat beading on his forehead. He turned to gauge the distance to the toilet, but knew he would never make it. He refocused on her vagina, a hole like a toilet, and he vomited.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
The slender snake somehow managed to come out in one piece. It flopped onto her pubic region then crawled inside her.
Again she pulled at the restraints, bucking her hips toward James. “Oh God, oh yes, lick me, oh, oh.”
James just sat there, his dick shriveling.
She arched her hips wildly, for an hour, her eyes clenched tight, her wrists pulling at the handcuffs. James managed to get erect again just by watching her enjoyment. He even took his dick in his hand and started masturbating. Before long, he came all over her.
At least I got something out of it, James thought.
Vicki had already passed out. James checked to see if she was still breathing and she was. Blood dripped from the handcuffs where they had cut into her wrists. He quickly unlocked them and wrapped her wrists with gauze.
He waited for the snake to come back out, but it never di
d.
* * *
The next weekend, James returned to the bar, hoping to avoid Vicki.
“Dude, that’s a wild story,” Mick said. “So how much did you drink after you left here?”
“I’m dead serious! It never came out. I only had that one drink. I was sober, believe me!”
“I think a snake got in her all right. Your snake!”
Out of the corner of James’ eye, he saw Vicki approaching.
She smiled, sat down next to him.
“Can I get you anything?” Mick asked her.
“No, I can’t have anything,” she replied.
Alarm bells went off in James’ head.
“I need to talk to you, James. Privately.”
Oh shit, James thought. That’s never a good thing.
James walked with her outside the bar and she grabbed his hand.
“That was sooo wonderful last week. I can’t even begin to explain it. You were so wonderful. You made me feel like I was on fire.”
“Well, what can I say.”
I was having orgasms all week, even after you were gone. It was incredible.”
James just smiled, felt his face reddening.
“But I’m pregnant, James. I took a test and it was positive.”
The rest of the conversation James could only think about the snake, living somewhere deep inside her crotch.
* * *
“What the hell am I going to do, Mick?”
“Look,” Mick cut in, “I think I know the answer.”
James watched as Mick opened another bottle of Tequila Son Light, poured it in a glass, making sure the little Jesus fell in. He gave it to James.
“I’m not going to drink that shit. It’s a little too late anyway, don’t you think?”
