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Premature Eradication - Prequel

Page 3

by James Lewis

“Don’t take it … don’t—”

  “Robert!”

  The garbled voice shook him. Prying open his eyelids, Robert’s range of view was fuzzy, but he noted the color white enveloping him. Turning his head, Robert looked up, blinking until he made out a foggy figure. It stood above him. Brown skin, hair in a ponytail, glasses. A woman.

  Tosha. The Messiah of pure evil.

  Everything in Robert convulsed. “Get away from me!” he cried, wailing his arms backward while kicking with everything he had. “Get—ow!” Sharp pains stabbed inside his toes and head.

  “Robert!” Tosha shook his shoulders. “Snap out of it! You’re in the hot tub again!”

  “Damn!” he cried, ignoring her for once to focus on a new army of pain. He raised a hand to his head, rubbing the temple. Within seconds, he realized his hands were unbound and loose. Free!

  “Where am I? When did we leave the warehouse?”

  “What? Babe, you’re in the bathroom. You must’ve walked in your sleep again.”

  Bathroom? Still dazed, Robert pushed his hands against the porcelain surface, raising his torso while scanning the surroundings. He saw a faucet by his feet. Body wash. Razors. Shaving cream. Definitely looked like a tub.

  As he lifted himself, a glow of light and his eyes didn’t mesh well with each other, but before turning away, he noticed the familiar row of light bulbs above a mirror. It all trickled back to him, the pieces coming together. His home.

  Tosha’s hand massaged the back of his neck, easing the thunder of flight-or-fight still rumbling within, but finally dying out. She was kneeling beside him, wearing a robe—the same one he bought for Valentine’s Day. But no wild mascara or black outfit. No red lipstick or anything else that color. She was wifey again, not some diabolical vixen determined to sever Robert from the King.

  The King? “Shit!”

  Panic mode amped back up. Robert cuffed a hand between his legs, saw his pint-sized partner-in-crime, then exhaled a breath that lasted at least five seconds. The King was lying against Robert’s belly, flaccid but intact—chilling as if he were lying on a Hawaiian beach sipping margaritas. If Robert didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn his royal Highness was smiling back at him.

  “That’s a good boy,” Robert said, stroking him. “I see ya, buddy.”

  “Ooookay, babe,” Tosha said, grabbing his hand. “You’re scaring me. Let’s get out of the tub, now.”

  “Oh, right.” Robert stood up and noticed blood on his feet. “Damn, my toe is bleeding.” He raised his arm. “Elbow all scraped up, too.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Tosha held Robert’s hand as he stepped out of the tub. “You started kicking and screaming soon as you saw me. I think you accidentally kicked the faucet.”

  Tosha grabbed toilet paper to wipe up the blood while Robert stared at himself in the mirror. All parts there. The King hung like a small piece of rope.

  “Woo! Man, I had the craziest nightmare.” He swiped a hand across his face, then opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed a band-aid. “I can’t believe how real it felt! I could feel and see everything so clearly.”

  Tosha threw the toilet paper in the trash, then cuffed Robert’s arm. As she led him back to the bedroom, Robert stumbled.

  “Whoa,” he said, placing a hand on the doorway. “Damn, I still feel kinda woozy.”

  “Careful.” They entered the bedroom. Tosha asked, “What in the world was this dream about? It woke me up. You were screaming, ‘don’t take it, don’t take it.’ Take what?”

  “This!” he said, pointing both index fingers between his legs. “I dreamed you and a bunch of women got together and castrated all the men in Los Pingas. Had me up on a gurney about to cut my thing off, too.” He paused while pulling back the sheets and comforter. Scratching his head, he asked, “Where was I? Oh, I think I was in a warehouse and ... damn. A huge computer was making dildos or something.” He massaged his temples. “Surprised I can’t remember the details. It was so vivid.”

  Tosha sat on the bed. She grabbed a glass of water off the nightstand and handed it to him. “That is ... interesting. Very interesting.”

  “Yeah.” Robert cleared the glass in one gulp. “Aaaaah. Man, I needed that. By the way, how long was I asleep?”

  “Only about thirty minutes,” Tosha said while pulling out a flashlight pen from her nightstand drawer.

  Robert put the glass on his dresser and slid under the sheets. “Damn, that’s it?”

  “Yup. Now lie back. I want to check you really fast.”

  “What for?”

  “Because I’m a doctor and I’d like to check my husband. Is that okay?”

  “Oh, that’s fine.” He placed his head on the pillow. “Look away.”

  Tosha shined a light in each eye. Whatever she saw, it made her smile. Robert asked, “Why are you looking happy?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she replied, powering off the flashlight and placing it back in the drawer. “Just happy to see you’re good to go.”

  “Well,” Robert said, interlocking his fingers, staring at the ceiling, “ I ended up in the bathtub again. I don’t know if I’m good to go, but as much as I hate it, I know what has to go. Those green pills. Can you dump them in the trash for … what is that?”

  “Hmph,” Tosha uttered, her back to him. “Are you sure you want me to throw them away?”

  Robert didn’t respond. Something had brushed his leg under the sheets. He reached underneath, wrapping his fingers around a cylinder-shaped item. The touch and feel of it … a firm, fleshy texture … so familiar. And undeniable.

  This can’t be what I think it is! Robert’s heart jumped, booming a thunderous drumbeat. The thumps clogged his throat, air thinning around him. He eased the object out from the sheets while trying to calm the onslaught of body tremors.

  The length of the “cylinder” seemed to never end. At least 11 inches, maybe more.

  Tosha stood up and faced the closet door mirror, her back still turned to Robert. Without turning around, she said, “Oh, that’s Dilly. My little pet nickname for my favorite toy. I use him after you fall asleep sometimes.”

  Robert slid back out of bed. Now on his feet, he crept toward the door. “Did you say … Dilly?”

  Tosha turned around, a wide grin strapped across her face. She held a fist under her breasts, walking toward Robert with footsteps as slow as his. “Yes. That’s his nickname. You know, short for dildo. Sometimes you just don’t do it for me, baby.”

  Something about her seemed out of place now. Almost alien, especially that eerie smile. “W-What’s in your hand?”

  Tosha paused at the foot of the bed, unraveling her fist and revealing five green pills. “Something I know you want.”

  Robert stopped and stared. For a second, he saw nothing else. His stomach churned, pulses pounding. Bottom lip slack, a glob of saliva dripped to the floor. A famine he’d never felt before spread. Those pills. His flesh ablaze, he felt like he could literally jump out of his skin to have them, but although trembling, Robert somehow restrained the Titanic hunger rising from within. What’s wrong with me? Why do I want them so bad?

  “Well?” Tosha said, snapping his trance. “How about another dose?”

  The tremors grew stronger, faster, shaking “Dilly” still gripped in Robert’s left hand as if powered by natural currents. Robert saw his right hand slowly reaching for the pills, like it was moving on its own.

  “Stop! What are you doing to me?” he cried, slapping her arm and shooting for the door, He dropped Dilly in the process. “You can’t take it!” Through the hallway. “You’re not cutting it off!” Out the front door. “No!” Into the darkness. “It’s mine!”

  Robert stumbled as he jumped off the porch, but regained his balance. In a full-sprint down the street, he high-stepped as hard and as fast as he could, howling his fear into the black sky. Destination unknown, but at least the King had come along for the ride. No crazy bitch was going to ultra-freeze h
is dick and rip it off like they did the poor guy whose severed piece was now lying on his bedroom floor.

  * * * * *

 

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