by K. M. Liss
I sit back on my heels in the soft mud of the path in horrified realisation. I sob my heart out. I howl and howl. I'm disgusting. An evil revolting Halloween witch. I hate myself. I'm insane. I'm going to burn in hell for this.
Still crying silently, I get up and respectfully lay the rabbit's bloodless body gently beneath the hedge. I cover its shallow grave with some handfuls of grass and a few twigs.
I trudge home blindly, sicker than I've ever felt, but oddly high and satisfied at the same time. The buzz I had subsides by the time I arrive at my house and now I just feel sick.
I need to see someone. I need to go to the doctor and fess up. I could do this to another person. A little child or a baby. I'm obviously dangerous.
My arrival home causes all hell to break loose.
“Candy, my God. Fuck! What happened?” My dad jumps out of his chair with a shocked look and grabs my shoulders. My dad never, ever swears.
“What d'you mean?” I ask, confused for a moment.
“Your face and hands are covered in blood. And how did you get all that mud on you?” He looks at my face and jeans in turn with wild eyes.
Oh shit, how could I have forgotten to clean myself up...?
“Look, it's okay Dad. I must have had another nosebleed, that's all. Mum was right, I shouldn't have gone out. And I slipped on the path and fell in the Jones' flower bed on the way back. It's nothing bad. Don't panic.” I leave the room, pacifying him as I go. “I'll take another shower, then I'm going to bed. 'Night.”
“Okay honey. If you're sure you're alright... Shall I ask mum to look in on you?” He calls after me.
“If you like. But I'm fine. Really, it's just a nosebleed, that's all.”
“'Night then sweet.”
As I enter the hallway I hear the downstairs toilet flush. I rush upstairs to avoid another barrage of parental questions and head straight into the bathroom for my shower. I go to bed early. I sob myself to sleep into my pillow in disgust. The little rabbit's lifeless body still emblazoned in my mind.
I don't know if it was my highly disturbing Halloween evening which caused it, but I have the most horrendous, weird, and erotic nightmare. I'm naked, with bound wrists, gagged and helpless, hanging suspended by one ankle above the floor, in a dark, dank smelling room. I feel my long hair sweep the floor beneath me. It feels hollow and empty, like a cellar, as I make muffled, frantic, and terrified noises through the gag. I can't see who it is, but some man is biting me all over. Forcing sharp teeth slowly into my private tender places, breathing hotly against my skin, running his tongue over me and scraping hard long nails roughly down my back and across my stomach. All the while he whispers in the ancient Latin tongue erotically, murmuring appreciatively, and laughing softly, manically to himself as he carries out his painful, torturous exploration of my body. I desperately try to wriggle away, out of his grasp. I can feel the rush of air as he circles me fast. I hear him calling me strange names as his hands brush all over me... Calista, decore meo, ahhh... Pedicabo ego vos volo... Calista Isadora, te amo... I know what he is saying, and I wish I didn't. He unties the gag and kisses me all over my face. Licking his way around with a wild fever. Then his tongue slides deep inside my mouth, to the back of my throat. It's long and hot. He touches my uvula triggering my gag reflex, his nose pushing hard against my chin. Then he's gone in a flurry of loose clothing which whips at my face. All is quiet and deadly still. I breathe a tenuous sigh of relief that my torture is over. But then suddenly I scream out in anger and pain as I feel cool sharp nailed fingers thrust and scrape their way inside my wet heat roughly, over and over... The pain is so intense.
Arrrgghh... Oh God, Someone, please... Help me!
I wake in a profuse sweat as the first rays of daylight filter in through my window. I lie there with my heart racing in utter terror.
Fuck! I don't need this on top of everything else. My days are screwed up enough already. I can't take my nights being worse.
I go downstairs with a book and sit on my own with a cup of piping hot water which is my comfort drink at the moment. My substitute for the cup of tea I have always loved until recently. My mind is full of disturbing things, painful sexual things, and bloody things. That dream was horrifying and sick, and although I hate to admit it, it was also a touch arousing in a weird way. My heart wasn't only pounding with fear. I've obviously got a very dark side to me. I can still smell him, in my head. A light earthy man scent with a touch of some kind of perfume I've never smelt before. A spicy mixture. I can remember the taste of him too and that sets my heart pounding again with fear, revulsion, and an odd masochistic fascination. His strong wine like flavour, tainted with blood. My blood. It was so weird. The whole fucking thing. It seemed so real. But just about everything else is weird lately, so my dreams are obviously going to follow suit.
At eight o'clock Mum appears to make her early cup of tea. She murmurs a sleepy good morning and I pretend to be engrossed in my book, murmuring quietly in reply. She goes back upstairs with their mugs and I pick up the house phone and call the doctors surgery, which opens at eight. After a long wait, and with an annoying message repeating in my ear, I finally get to speak to the receptionist and book an appointment for Wednesday of next week at 6pm. It's lucky I'm not physically ill, as it's almost impossible to see a doctor fast these days. I'll have to think up a good story, to tell Doctor Heinz without actually saying I sucked the blood from a rabbit.
God, fuck knows what though...
I'm still lazing in my PJ's when Dad comes down.
“Up early for the weekend, aren't you love?” He says cheerily. My dad is always cheery in the mornings. It's really annoying.
“I had a bad night. It must have been the blood loss,” I joke. Badly.
“Oh really, did you have another nosebleed?” He asks in a concerned tone.
“No no... I'm fine. But the two I had were rather heavy. I'll be okay though.”
“Take it easy today, won't you love? Remember you're helping me with the Cubs Halloween do tonight.”
“It's okay, I haven't forgotten.”
Oh damn it! Yes I have. All those little boys, and not so little boys, running amok, squealing all over the place, fighting each other and tons of parents everywhere. Oh shit!!
My dad is a Cub Scout Leader. His pack is the Exeter 5th. I'm his 'helper' on these little fund raisers he organises. I didn't used to mind in my younger days, but now it's very uncool. Not that I'm in any way cool myself, but I do draw the line at this. Also, it's probably not wise for me to go, considering my behaviour lately. But I promised, and Mum's doing lates at her supermarket job so she won't be there either. It'll be bar duty with Ed, collecting and washing glasses, sorting out the food, and clearing up the wrecked room afterwards. Hopefully the music won't be as crap as it usually is. I can't stand all that stupid party stuff. It makes me want to scream.
The Hokey Cokey... The Conga... Christ Almighty!
I could take my iPod I suppose and screen it all out with some of my louder stuff. There's only one good thing about tonight. Open access to drink. I can have a nice big session on the sly. Hopefully no one will notice if I get a little trashed.
Chapter 2
I dress up for the Cub Scouts party as best as I can with my overwhelming lack of enthusiasm... I put on my black skinny jeans, black lacy top and heavy biker style boots and give my hair a minute with the straightening irons, doing a little flick over on my long grown out fringe. I apply some strong eye liner and a lot of mascara. On a whim, I paint a little spider web on my cheek with the eyeliner for fun. Then I find my ancient bright orange lipstick lurking in the back of the drawer and apply a generous helping. Finally, I add the finishing touch. A pair of massive, black cross Gothic earrings with a loop at the top. I stand back to admire myself in the mirror. I really do look very Halloween-y and Pumpkin-ish. It makes me smile. Who knows, I might even enjoy it tonight. I never go out. Anywhere. I'm really worried about my blood craving though. I must keep tha
t under control, whatever else I do, and being around all those people is going to be hard.
We set off with the car loaded up to the roof with gifts for the draw, various snacks, and crates of beer, wine, spirits, and just about every beverage known to mankind, plus a sea of soft drinks for the boys.
We arrive at the country club and cart everything into the function room. I start to sort out the bar. Putting all the drinks underneath it and opening the bottles of spirits, positioning them upside down in the optics on the wall, and uncorking a few bottles of wine, putting them in the wine cooler fridge. My dad sets out the tables and chairs. The DJ arrives and I go up on the stage and have a quick hopeful word.
“Hi Barry, I was wondering if you could knock the party hits on the head this time?” I give him a little smile.
“It's my show sweetheart.” He replies without even looking my way.
Jesus, he's such a grumpy old bastard.
“I know that, but last time it went on for like, a whole hour.”
“They all like it. It gets the mums and dads and the kids up together. They're the ones I'm here for, not you love. Now hoppit, I'm busy.”
Oh well. I suppose I am being selfish really.
Ed arrives shortly after that and he stands chatting to my dad at the bar. I've never liked Ed. He gives me the creeps. I've seen the way he looks at me. Running his eyes over my chest and licking his lips when he talks to me. It's repulsive. He's older than my dad is.
“Hi Candy. How's things at school?” He asks as I walk up and my dad wanders off. I stand at a distance. Zoning his scent out.
“Okay. What about you?” I keep things pleasant. Always have.
“Fine, fine. Busy actually. Got a big order in from Germany this week.”
“Good for you. That's cool.” Ed owns an aviary. He breeds exotic birds, like canaries, parrots and budgerigars. I don't like it much. It's cruel caging birds up. But who am I to preach after my spot of animal cruelty yesterday?
“Should be a good do tonight, takings wise. It's a sell out.” He says, eyeing me up with a lick of his lips.
Lecherous creep...
“Nice get up by the way.” He says motioning at my spider web decoration.
“Ummm, thanks.”
“We're all set up I see.”
“Yep, just need to get the plastic cups out for the kids.”
The evening kicks off and I'm busy. I manage to avoid any close up contact with the mass of people by staying behind the bar most of the time, apart from my essential glass gathering sessions. I pass out the chicken and fries boxes, when the catering company arrives, with a fair degree of nausea. Having said that, the strong greasy smell does surpass and smother the scent of blood for a while, so in a way, I'm grateful. I've had a large glass of wine and now I'm on my first G & T. I'm happy enough with my evening so far. It's uneventful, mildly entertaining, busy, and distracting me from my issues for a while.
I'm leaning down to get a new bottle of white wine out of the cooler when Ed touches my ass. This isn't a quick feel. He slides his finger down 'there' and prods me hard... I jump up in disgust and turn to face him.
My head is ablaze with anger. I grab his throat and shove him back against the wall behind the bar. I snarl in his face in a deep voice I don't recognise as my own.
“Keep your hands off me you filthy bastard.” I look into his eyes with a deadly hard stare. I realise I'm holding him aloft. His feet are dangling in the air, above the floor.
How can this be?
I let him go in surprise and he drops the glass he has in his hand in shock. It lands with a loud crash at his feet.
“Shit,” He gasps, rubbing his neck. His face is a picture. He's terrified. I'm enjoying his discomfort enormously. “What's the matter with you? That was an accident. I didn't mean it.” He is staring at me in horrified confusion.
“Like hell it was,” I snarl again. My eyes hurt, they're burning.
“What's happened to your eyes?” He asks shakily. “They're glowing. Bright yellow.”
“It's mood contacts. They react to my mood. And it 'aint fucking good at the moment.” I don't know what he's talking about but I'm so hot with my quick witted lies.
He gulps and bends down to pick up the broken glass at his feet still looking at me wide eyed. He misjudges his aim and brings his finger down on an upturned piece of shattered glass. His finger slices on contact and the blood oozes fast, dripping onto the floor.
OH FUCK NO...
I can't stop myself. I drop to the floor and take his finger in my mouth in a split second, sucking like a lunatic. He tries to push me away but can't. I clamp my teeth around his finger hard and suck like never before.
“Get off... You crazy bitch! PHIL... GET HER OFF ME,” He shouts out loudly.
I can't stop, I'm driven by a primal inner need that is far too strong to resist. I feel my dad trying to pull me away, and hear him shouting at me in anger. For some reason he's not strong enough to do it. I hiss at him and flash at him with angry hot eyes and continue to suck wildly at Ed's finger. Ed kicks me hard in the head, several times, but although I feel the impact, it doesn't hurt at all. The buzz and heat grows and grows inside me. The taste is sublime, like the nectar of life. I'm getting so high. Warm pleasure is saturating my every cell. Suddenly I'm lifted in the air roughly by a lot of hands and pulled free from my source of orgasmic nourishment with a scream. I can feel my eyes blazing with a strange heat and I shout loudly at the top of my voice.
“FUCK OFF... LEAVE ME ALONE!” Everyone is staring at me. A little boy starts to cry.
“CANDACE!!! What the hell...? Are you on drugs or something?” My dad is looking at me in complete and utter horror. I don't know what he is seeing, but it isn't good.
My God, I've really done it now.
I take off at high speed, running to the door and out into the cold damp night air. I run with a velocity and agility I've never experienced before. I whip so fast through the lanes and streets. My head is alight, buzzing, and free. I can see everything so clearly, as if it were day. I leap over our gate with ease, flying high in the air. I'm obviously hallucinating or the drink I've had is affecting me somehow. What's happening isn't possible. It's not human. I'm not even out of breath after running two miles. I stand outside the house for a moment, calming myself and thinking. Mum's car is here. I have to go in and somehow explain all this to her before my Dad does.
I take a big gulp and go inside.
“Oh, you're early..." She says in surprise. I catch her having a big G & T in the kitchen, listening to one of her Elvis Presley CDs. She seems a little guilty. Maybe this isn't the first one.
“Yeah. Ummm, Mum, there's been a problem, at the party.”
“Really? Your dad's okay, isn't he?”
“He's fine. It was me. I did something bad.” I turn off the CD player.
“What Candy? What did you do?” Her worried eyes search mine.
“Ed cut his finger badly and I sucked it and couldn't stop.”
“You did WHAT?”
“I learned in First Aid class that saliva can stop the flow of blood. And it started off like that, giving him first aid, I mean. But for some odd reason I couldn't let go. It was like my jaw locked onto him. My teeth were stuck in his finger. It was dreadful Mum. I can't tell you.” This is my version of events and I'm sticking to it.
“NO... Where's your Dad? Let me speak to him.”
“He's still there.”
“But how did you get home?”
“I got a lift,” I lie.
All I do is lie, lie, lie ...
She sighs heavily. “This is so odd Candy. And, how did you stop it, removing your teeth from his finger, I mean?”
“Some of the men had to pull me off him.”
“Christ!” She has her head in her hands in shame. I start to cry. So does she.
“I'm having extreme stress and anxiety issues Mum, I've been meaning to tell you about it, but I didn't know how. I'm seeing
Dr Heinz on Wednesday. And my tutors know as well. I'm going to see the school counsellor about it too.”
“Oh Cand, really? I never realised. Is that the reason why you've gone off food and things? You've been acting so strange lately.”
“Yeah. It's just pressure at school and hormones, I'm sure of it. I'll get it sorted. Maybe I need some tablets or something for a while, to calm me down, y'know.” She puts her arms around me but I can't do that anymore, the cuddling thing. I move away and sit on the stool sniffing.
The phone rings and Mum answers it. It's obviously Dad. She walks off to have a private conversation, returning a minute or so later.
“I told him you were here. He said you ran off and he couldn't find you anywhere around the club. He also said he is very worried about your behaviour. You seem to have bad anger issues and a strange eye affliction.”
“I told you. I got a lift from one of the parents. They were leaving when I went outside. And there's nothing the matter with my eyes. I don't know what he means.”
“He said they turned yellow and glowed.”
God, what the hell is going on with my eyes?
