The Not

by A. R. Braun

  “All right. Let’s do this.”

  “Fay, you want to be first since you were just delivered?” Rick asked.

  She shrugged. Giggling, she climbed down into the pool with him.

  Rick snickered. “Now that I think of it, you were right about doing this in the hot tubs, Don.”

  Don laughed. “Just go for it.”

  “Cross your arms like you’re in a coffin,” Rick told her.

  “Huh?” she asked.

  “So you don’t thrash and flail.”

  She made a chipmunk face. “Don’t drown me.”

  “Don’t worry; it’s just in and out.”

  Don fought not to laugh at that phrase. It was true what women said about sex being all men thought about.

  I can think of another in and out.

  “Fay,” Rick said, “do you renounce the devil as well as Pishuni?”

  “I do.”

  “Then I baptize you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, who said, ‘Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.’ ”

  Fay took a deep breath. With a hand on her wrists and the other hand on the back of her neck, Rick dunked her for a second, then raised her back up. She shook the water from her hair and spat out a bit of H2O. Everyone clapped.

  When it was Don’s turn, Rick held him under for longer than he’d done with Fay. It was as if he’d heard his seedy little thought. Don wondered if Pishuni was the only one who could read minds. Then they hurried to their rooms to undress and dry off.

  If someone would’ve told Don he’d be getting baptized as a Christian three months ago, or even last week, he would’ve laughed his ass off. Safe in his warm room, his mind wasn’t as comforted as his body. Don wondered whom Pishuni would choose as a servant next.

  ***

  Shivering, Rick swiped his key card and hurried into his room. He locked the door behind him. His teeth chattered as he looked over the predictable living space. He jogged into the bathroom and stripped out of his clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor. Smiling, he noted the Jacuzzi sitting proudly by the combination shower/bathtub. Rick climbed in, cranking up the jets. He lay back.

  “Ahhh.”

  The hot water soothed his flesh, ripe with goose bumps, and the jets massaged his leg and arm muscles. He had to shift his ass so one jet wouldn’t give him a funky how-de-do. Rick closed his eyes.

  Thank you, Lord. I’m your vessel.

  “Couldn’t help notice you don’t have a girlfriend,” a deep, booming voice spoke in his mind.

  Rick’s eyes sprang open. Panic shocked him like frayed wires.

  His eyes scanned the bathroom, looking for the source of the voice that had spoken to him, but he saw no one… except the scorpions that crept in through the space in the open door and the cawing black crows that flew in through a vortex in the door, then landed on the shower rod and on the bathtub. Which was impossible. How had they gotten in here? Rick trembled, his heart doing triplets. Sweat slicked him.

  Rick closed his eyes. “Satan, I rebuke you in Jesus’ name.”

  “I’m not Satan, I’m Pishuni.”

  Rick hissed. “Uh-huh, sure you are.”

  “Let’s dispense with the formalities. You’re alone, and even though you have little affinity for that sensuous rock and roll, resisting the tanned big-breasted babes who ooze sexuality, your hormones still want them madly. The few times you do ask them out — for you’re still a sinner, like it or not — they look you over, scoff and say, ‘You wish.’

  “But I can make them give in.”

  Rick shook his head. “Then Pishuni, I reb — ”

  “Silence!”

  The roar of near-deafening eons as Pishuni yelled made Rick dizzy and shook his constitution. Outside, thunder rumbled. Lightning crashed down right outside his window. A thundershower poured, pummeling the panes. He could hear them rattle from in here.

  “Just think of it, stud. I can give you any woman you want: a blonde, a redhead or a brunette… what’ll it be? More than one? All-girl orgies — except for you — or the woman of your dreams? Do you like natural breasts or a woman with a boob job? Long legs? Petite? You can pretend she’s underage. Oh, the possibilities. You know you can’t be happy without a woman, or women, the only things worth living for. Why, I’ll bring them to your door right now. Just between you and me, you’ll cum ten times tonight with my power.”

  Rick breathed heavily, his penis beginning to snake into an erection just thinking about it.

  “You have a void inside that you didn’t tell Don and Fay about. There’s an interesting subject. Perhaps I’ll make Fay fall out of love with Don and send her here for an affair, and Don will never know. Or should I strike him dead?

  “Chew on that for a while.”

  A woman in the next room moaned so loudly Rick could hear her as if she was in here. In the room above him, a couple of ladies — involved in what was obviously a ménage a’ trois, as a man groaned along with them — cooed and grunted. The bedsprings rocked and made Rick’s mouth water, especially when the bed started pounding against the ceiling. He could even hear women screaming in pleasure in the room opposite his bed, that’s how loud they were. His cock went fully erect. He couldn’t help stroke the shaft.

  “I’ll leave you alone to consider my proposition. When you’re ready to accept me as lord, I’ll send those lovely ladies to your room.”

  Rick opened his eyes; the scorpions and the crows were gone.

  The outcries grew more frantic, and Rick continued to masturbate. He positioned himself so a jet caressed his penis. He imagined it was a woman’s tiny hand.

  “Uh, ah — oh my God!”

  Time slowed as temptation took its foothold. In fact, he had felt as if something had been missing lately. His lovely Native-American ex-wife, Jenna Pouncing Cheetah, had been a fine, lithe squaw indeed. The golden-brown flesh (the red-skin crap was a myth), the long raven-colored hair like silk and the way she’d cook anything he wanted from scratch — healthy, but delicious — had slayed him indeed. He remembered how her vagina had tasted on their wedding night: He’d eaten it out so frantically he’d actually gotten a buzz from it.

  Rick shot his wad into the Jacuzzi, grateful for the release. Satisfied, he exhaled and grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow.

  But Jenna had had a temper, Lord knew. Native-American women took no shit. And when they’d gotten in an argument over finances — or lack of them, better put — she’d given him a token to remember her by: a stab wound below the left clavicle. The doctor had said it barely missed his heart. He still bore the scar. A messy divorce had followed.

  But white girls were even more vivacious, in his opinion, though he couldn’t hook one to save his life, as poor as he was — unless he accepted Pishuni as lord, of course. Speaking of money, his band had been at the crux of getting a label deal when… when…

  … Pishuni ruined it!

  And after what had happened with Jodi Arias, Jordan Linn Graham and Ana Trujillo, could one trust women at this moment anyway?

  Rick stood up, clenching his fists and shaking them. “Pishuni, you city-destroying imbecile! Get out of my life in the name of Jesus Christ!”

  A piercing shriek of agony similar to the one outside the church reverberated through the hotel, shaking the foundation, and his female neighbors stopped moaning. Rick perked-up his ears. No trace of the “deity” remained. Since he’d never accepted the deceiver as Fay had, that was probably why no earthquake followed.

  He climbed out of the Jacuzzi and knelt on the floor. Rick wept for the loss of what could’ve been.

  Back to being a card shark.

  CHAPTER 31

  Forced to flee to the Colorado Mountains — specifically Crestone Peak — Pishuni seethed with hatred for Rick and Fay, plus the minister at that stupid church. His voice of eons screeched, his wings of blinding prisms flapping like leathery thunderclaps. The
violent rainstorm turned into baseball-sized hail.

  I can ruin Don’s car — that much I can do — plus a few more surprises.

  His centuries-old brain caught fire with malevolence for mankind and their worthless existences. They’d ruined his fun and had left him all dressed up with no place to destroy. How he hated them and would make them pay! He’d savor their screams!

  “I will choose another vessel,” he bellowed into the night. “And then I’ll obliterate mankind.”

  Pishuni took flight from the mountains, off to trick another atheist. What these useless mortals had seen when he’d destroyed those three cities in New Mexico would be a kitten nudge compared to what he’d do to Colorado… and to the rest of the world.

  But for now, a serial killing spree of nuns, fathers, friars and protestant pastors at the hands of a respected businessman would cool his heels… starting with Pastor Jerry and his wife. A lengthy torture session would precede their deaths, including decapitations.

  They’d go piece by bloody piece.

  ***

  Day turned to night. Dark clouds swallowed up the light.

  “My car!” Don ran down the stairs and sprinted toward the glass entry doors. A radio set to the storm-alert network blared.

  “Sir,” the clerk from before said. Don noticed for the first time that he had a paunch. The clerk pushed his glasses up from his nose. “You don’t want to go out there.” His voice was needle-dick high. “It’s baseball-sized hail, you know.”

  Don wheeled on him. “Do you have a bucket?”

  “You mean an ice bucket?”

  Don sighed, shaking his head. “Like a metal bucket, or a pot or pan?” He held his hands out, his arms fully extended.

  The clerk looked at him.

  “Oh, fuck it!” Don decided to be brave, but before he could turn to go:

  “You’re going to get conked on the head.” The clerk seemed to be trying hard to think. “Wait here… and watch the front desk for me.” His nametag read BART. Don didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed that when checking in — probably because he’d been high on Fay being delivered from Pishuni. Bart shuffled through a wooden door, looking surreptitiously behind him before closing it.

  Every second I wait, my car’s going to get more ruined. Thank God it’s insured.

  Don started through the glass double doors to take his chances, when…

  … Bart returned with a large cast-iron pan, handing it over the desk. “This should do the trick.”

  “Thanks.” Don snatched it and ran out the door while holding the pan over his head. In the hotel, it had been cold with cool air still cranked despite the storm. Now it was freezing as sheets of rain pummeled him, soaking his dress shirt and slacks. The hail pounded the pan so mercilessly, he thought he’d drop it and get knocked out. He slipped a couple of times as he dashed to the vehicle because puddles were already forming. Hail thrashed him on the back, chest and legs. One chunk slammed him in the crotch.

  “Oh,” Don groaned in pain, doubling over for a few seconds.

  A gang of kids might as well have been pummeling his body with rocks. Pain like stick pins erupted all over his frame. Right before he reached his car, he reeled because of the wind that was so strong he thought it would carry him away.

  Do they have tornados in Colorado?

  As he fumbled with the keys to unlock the car, he noticed the hood and the top of the vehicle, as well as the trunk’s exterior, were dented in. It was as if a baseball team from hell had raised Cain by going off on his ride. He sat in the pan in the passenger seat and fitted the key into the lock. He pulled out — slowly — driving toward the car port. Visibility was almost nada. When finally under it, he sighed in relief, but groaned from the pain he felt from his shoulders to his toes.

  He chattered and trembled from the cold rain that had soaked him. The hail would probably leave welts. I’m going to need that hot tub after all. When he got out and surveyed the damage, he gasped — a ton of round dents a body shop would have a field day with covered his car. He’d had a door replaced on a red Ford Tempo he’d owned years ago, and it never looked right. It had been a brighter color than the rest of the vehicle. This beater car he was driving now would probably never be the same.

  Was that a booming laugh he heard in the distance?

  Don stomped toward the double doors to find Fay waiting for him. She frowned at the storm. He crossed the threshold. “My car’s got dents all over it. Thank God I have full coverage.”

  “You’re soaked,” she said. “You’re gonna get sick.”

  Don nodded. “I need to go upstairs and get out of these wet clothes.”

  He walked over and handed the dented pan back to Bart, who was involved in a phone conversation. He halted talking as soon as Don came near, then took the pan. Bart placed it under the desk.

  Don walked over to his wife. “Let’s go.”

  Fay wouldn’t move. Her lovely eyes kept moving toward the front desk. She drew close to Don’s ear and whispered, “Hubby, that clerk, he’s been on the phone, talking softly about us. I think he told someone we escaped from Rio Rancho.”

  Don did his best to scowl at the squirrely man, who glanced up at him. Bart’s eyes looked worried.

  Don met Fay’s eyes. “He’s probably surprised we survived the devastation,” he lied.

  That guy’s got nark written all over him.

  “What if he calls the cops or the FBI?” Fay asked. “They might think…”

  “It’s not going to do any good to worry about it. Come on, I need to dry off and try out that Jacuzzi.”

  Fay nodded and slipped her arm around his waist. Wincing, she yanked it back and tried to swipe rainwater from her blouse. She kept sneaking looks at Bart the whole way to the elevator. Don pushed the button. The couple got on and traveled upstairs.

  ***

  Rick fell asleep at 10:00 p.m. Was it sugarplums that danced in his head? No, not quite plums, but definitely sugar — the driving beat of knocks on the door was like a speed-metal drum blast. In his dream, Rick woke, rubbing his eyes, then glanced at the door, which shook in its hinges.

  “What the hell?”

  While unconscious, he could hear no storm, just crickets rubbing their legs together.

  “Hold on a minute!”

  Rick threw back the covers and stumbled toward the door. When he looked through the peephole, expecting to see Don and Fay complaining that Pishuni was back in business, he came fully awake.

  Nubile women smiled at him, their faces distorted like in a fun house mirror as they got closer to the peephole. The blondes, redheads and brunettes — some skinny, some stacked — were all vivacious.

  “Holy Lord Almighty.” With shaking hands, he opened the door. He surreptitiously looked them up and down. Buxom breasts pointed to him underneath their slips, and he could make out their nipples. Their tanned legs were bare. Rick’s cock jumped to attention. “C-can I… help you?”

  “Why’d you take so long?” a stacked blonde who looked collegiate chirped. “Didn’t you hear us knocking?”

  A stunning brunette said, “I’m sure he heard us moaning.” She giggled. The others joined in on the revelry.

  Rick was speechless.

  A thin brunette stepped forward and rubbed his chest. “Oh, he’s shy.”

  “I… I… ,” Rick tried to say.

  “Aren’t you going to invite us in?” A freckled redhead asked, her body of Venus with human features bouncing as she bobbed on the balls of her feet.

  Another type of balls swelled.

  “But… I got rid of Pish — ” Rick started to say.

  “Par-ty! Par-ty! Par-ty! Par-ty!” The stacked blonde pumped her fist.

  The other girls followed suit. They forced their way in and pushed him toward the bed. The brunette hipped the door closed… and locked it.

  There were ten of them, with no boyfriends to be seen.

  They shoved him onto the bed while he inhaled a deep gasp as on
e did when shocked. Then the girls got out of their slips.

  They jumped onto the bed and ate him alive. The girls took turns sitting on his face, giving him a blowjob and humping his cock, which reached deep into their vaginas. Insanely, his member had seemed to grow four inches. The orgy party bounced on the bedsprings. He blew wad after wad into them. The electricity from the red-hot sensations of the girls’ soft-and-warm flesh shot sparks of shock and arousal to his member that nothing could equal. He was in heaven-on-earth.

  The stacked blonde even let him do her in the backdoor. Apparently, she’d had someone shave the hair off just for the occasion. When the orgy ended, he’d come ten times.

  The girls jumped up and acted like cheerleaders while chanting, “Pishuni, demon seed, when you worship him, you don’t envy.”

  “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear the first time. This is what you’ll have with me as lord, instead of that void that makes you want to commit suicide, though you lie to yourself, believing the Christian deity gives you a purpose. But your heart knows the real truth, paleface.

  “Remember that when you wake. Accept me as your god, and all this will be yours.

  “You shall never be shriveled.”

  Rick caught a glimpse of Pishuni’s face of fire peering in through the sliding-glass doors of the balcony, smiling with teeth of knives. His eyes possessed black pupils and spikes jutting out. His leathery, scaly skin glistened, and he sported three nipples on his buff chest. He scraped the window with his long, black claws. When he flapped his wings of prisms — the bat-like appendages sounding like someone shaking dirt out of a rug on the porch — Rick was blinded by the god’s light.

  Rick’s eyes snapped open. This time, he’d woken for real. He was covered with sweat, but was alone. He heard the storm. Then he bent his ear toward young ladies moaning in sexual pleasure in the rooms on either side and in the one above, where their bed pounded into his ceiling. It sounded as if it would cave in. My God, what if it does cave in? Then I’ll be forced to be a part of pre-marital sex. He realized he knew what the girls looked like now, and arousal tried to sting his member. Rick put pillows over his ears. Groaning, he pulled the covers over his head.