We All Fall Down - Quills and Daggers Part Two: The Collective - Season 1, Episode 10

by Carver Pike

  “Do you remember how we first met?” she asked me.

  “Y…yes,” I said. “You were a d…d…dancer.”

  “Sometimes I think about dancing again. I made a shitload of money. I was good. Right?”

  “Ra…ra…right,” I admitted.

  I really wasn’t flirting. I was only confirming the fact that she had been a damn good dancer. I don’t think I’d ever seen a more graceful and beautiful stripper before. She could have easily been a ballerina or a musician’s backup dancer.

  “I like to dance,” she said while looking down at her lap.

  She got up and took my hands as she gestured for me to scoot over on the couch so I’d be farther away from Brandon. I didn’t know what was going on but I moved over like she wanted. Then she stood in front of me and danced. My eyes were drawn to her. Any man’s would be. She was stunning.

  “I used to do this,” she said as she turned and shook her tight ass in front of me.

  She dipped down and grinded her ass against my cock. I hardened without even meaning to. She was just so fucking sexy. But she was Ivory’s. She was his woman and his son was sleeping on the couch.

  Why am I always in these situations?

  Melanie straddled me and rode my lap. She wore jeans, so did I, and her pussy grinded against my cock, rubbing me so hard that it burned a little. She put her face close to mine and set her chin on my shoulder so her hair was in my face. She smelled so good. It reminded me of something.

  Mrs. Rebecca. The woman who’d been like a mother to me once used to sit on my lap this same way. Only she’d be naked, so would I, and she’d set her soaking wet pussy down on my cock when she danced on me like that. Her hair smelled good too and she’d sigh into my ear while she fucked me.

  “N…na…no,” I said as I grabbed Melanie by her waist and hoisted her up off my lap.

  “What?” she said, biting her bottom lip as she reached for my cock, grabbing me and squeezing me in her hand. “You don’t find me sexy?”

  “Y…y…you are Ivory’s wa…wa…woman,” I said.

  “He’s gone,” she said. “He fucked this up. He left me alone and I’m a strong, single woman. I have needs. Don’t you?”

  “I l…love Ivory,” I said. “Y…you do too.”

  I rushed to pick up Brandon and carry him to bed.

  “Put my son down,” she ordered.

  I ignored her and carried him to bed, giving him a kiss on his forehead as I lay him down in his racecar bed, a bed I’d helped Ivory pick out for him. As I made my way out of his room and toward the front door, I looked back one more time at Melanie.

  “I…I’m s…sorry you’re alone,” I forced out, trying my best not to stutter so she could understand me. “You d…deserve a goo…good life.”

  “Get the fuck out of here, retard,” she yelled.

  She wasn’t necessarily being mean. It’s how she felt. She was right. I was slower than some other people. But I knew this was wrong. I knew she was a woman spoken for and Ivory would never forgive me if I did anything with her. I was proud of myself for resisting her even though I’d almost let it go too far. I might be a retard but I know right from wrong…sometimes.

  The last time I saw Melanie and Brandon, I went to pick Brandon up and take him out for ice cream. While I was tying the boy’s shoes, a man showed up. He didn’t even knock. He simply walked right in the front door and Melanie ran to throw her arms around him. His name was Otis and he was a big, musclebound Latino.

  It was clear they were romantically involved. I wanted to tell Ivory, but how could I tell my brother that his woman wasn’t being faithful and was inviting men into their home? Even if he would allow me to visit him, I knew I could never say the words. I considered writing him a letter to fill him in on her two-timing ways, but the thought of him reading it in his small cell, boiling in his anger with no outlet, made me sad. No, I couldn’t tell him yet.

  Then she disappeared. She took Brandon and left. The next time I visited her apartment nobody answered. Out of fear for her safety, I broke into the apartment. I jimmied the door open and found that she’d packed up everything that could fit in suitcases and she’d left. Only the furniture remained. It all belonged to the landlord except the racecar bed. In a brief moment of fury, I yanked the bed away from the wall and tossed the mattress in the air. That’s when I found the shoe. One shoe was left behind. It was the only thing I could give Ivory to remind him of his little boy.

  Melanie had gone to live with her sister. I was pretty sure of that. She’d mentioned it a few times. I knew I could go track her down, but what good would that do? I couldn’t caveman club her and drag her ass back to San Francisco. No, she was gone. If anyone was going to go look for her or for Brandon, it would have to be Ivory.

  I missed Brandon. He was a kid, but he was smart as a whip, smarter than I was. He had a natural goodness about him. If I’d known that time taking him for ice cream was going to be my last time seeing him, I would have made the moment last longer. He’d fallen asleep in my car and I’d had to carry him up to the apartment and into his room. I always think back to that night and wish I’d sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the room and watched him sleep. But I didn’t. The last time I saw him awake was when he was drilling me from the backseat of my car about different types of dinosaurs. Now he was gone.

  A letter came from Ivory a week later. He still didn’t want me to come visit him, but he told me about the money. Apparently our father, our real father, had tracked him down. He was some kind of sheriff somewhere and someone owed him a favor or something like that. He sent Ivory a letter from his deathbed apologizing for all he’d put us through. He had no living sons or daughters other than us. He would’ve written me if he’d been able to get a hold of me but since he’d reached Ivory, he wanted to let him know that he was naming us in his will. We’d get a decent amount of money. Enough to help us get on our feet. Ivory didn’t write back because the letter said don’t bother. He’d be dead before he’d receive it anyway. We were instructed to contact his lawyer. So I did. The lawyer helped me set up a bank account for my half and deposited Ivory’s in his own account.

  In his letter, Ivory also instructed me to go back to school. I hated school, but Ivory insisted that in order to open our own business once he got out, we’d need to have an education. He was studying business and finances on the inside so he wanted me to take some classes on the outside. I’m no scholar, but if it was in Ivory’s plan I’d go along with it. I owed him my life and I’d do anything he asked.

  Chapter 5 – Simple Simon

  School sucked. In some ways it was an escape. You’d be surprised the kinds of scholarships and grants you can get when you’re creative. Besides, anytime I needed guidance the demons were there to make sure I traveled the right path, or the wrong one. Only time would tell. As a child I’d hated the voices. I’d loathed the nightly visits and the insistent nagging. As I grew older, I’d begun to embrace them.

  It was the kill that did it. It reminded me of what I’d seen in some vampire movies. When someone was bitten by a vampire they only became a half breed. It wasn’t until they’d actually taken a life and tasted blood that they became a full-fledged bloodsucker.

  Is that what I am? A bloodsucker?

  I’d tasted blood before. I tasted it the night I killed the Mumbler. As I’d carved him up from behind, some of the blood spurted into my mouth and I licked it away, drinking it in, because Samuel had told me to sip the sweet nectar of death. I didn’t like it. I’d bitten my lip or tongue enough in my lifetime to know the nasty coppery taste of blood. The Mumbler’s wasn’t any sweeter.

  The Mumbler wasn’t my only kill. I’d purposely sought out homeless people, men and women nobody would miss. I’d half expected to get caught after killing the first guy in the back of the convenience store. My blood had to have been at the scene since the small razor I’d used had cut up my fingers some during the attack. Yet, nobody came knocking on my door. N
obody asked questions. Maybe the cops thought of me as a vigilante, cleaning up the streets, one piece of shit at a time.

  I was an outlaw, like an armed bandit in the Wild West or a biker gang badass. I wasn’t somebody you wanted to cross. I knew how to dispose of my enemies and I wasn’t afraid to do it. You bring your gang and I’ll bring my gang of demons. They don’t fucking play.

  Where was I? Yes, school sucked. I knew that in order to have my feet planted firmly in this city, I’d need an education. It was expected of me. I’d made a promise that I’d go to school and that’s what I was doing. I thought I’d be a good psychologist. Or a psychiatrist. Or maybe even a social worker and since many of the classes would be the same, I enrolled and worked on my degree.

  Women were everywhere and that’s what I liked most about college. Tits and ass all over the place and all it took was a few drinks and a roofie to get laid. Sometimes not even that. Yet, when you meet a special girl, it takes a lot more work. That was the case with Ava.

  She was the blonde bombshell who worked at the Nightly Grind coffee shop. This place stayed open until 9 p.m. to allow college kids to get a final dose of caffeine before all-night study sessions. Ava usually worked the evening shift. She had blonde hair that hung just above her shoulders and brown, almost golden, eyes that seemed to glow like 18k nuggets floating in dark pools of a beautiful soul. It was that soul that drew me in.

  She smiled constantly and sometimes when the restaurant lights would catch her just right, a streak of white would shine across her hair and give her eyes a slight sparkle. It was enchanting, like a light from heaven was illuminating her face. I knew she needed to be mine. Each time I walked into the coffee shop I felt the demons back off, like they weren’t wanted there. Being near Ava was like walking into church, or what I imagined it would feel like since I’d never been to one.

  My chair was in the back corner, in a darkened corner, where I’d order an apple turnover and a medium coffee...black every time. I knew if I told her I wanted “the usual” she’d know what to give me. We had an unspoken bond. The funny thing was, I hated black coffee at first, but it’s what all the tough guys ordered in the movies and I wanted Ava to know that I was a man. I drank my coffee black, I could fix a leaky sink, and I could fuck ‘til she was exhausted.

  Her name made me happy. A…V…A…something about it reminded me of a fairytale name, like she’d be an agile ballerina-like faerie prancing across a field of wildflowers while the sun set behind her, each beam reaching out to her as if saying goodbye a final time, reluctant to set and having to wait until tomorrow to see her again. That was me each evening.

  Don’t close the shop, Ava, because I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see you again.

  “Can I get you anything else?” she asked one night while I was dazed in thoughts of her body wrapped around mine.

  “I’m okay,” I said, hating the words that left my mouth but unable to think of anything else to say.

  “Great,” she said. “We’re about to lock up. I’m sure we’ll see you again tomorrow though.”

  “What about tonight?” I asked.

  “We’re closing,” she said, clearly not understanding that I was asking her out.

  “Right,” I said.

  I stood and nodded at her, bowing slightly, my chivalrous way of saying goodnight. In my mind she’d hold out her hand so I could kiss it.

  “FUCK HER IN THE ASS!” Samuel yelled with the annoying ridiculousness of a horny young man.

  His horny child’s voice screaming in my ear caused me to jump and twitch. Ava moved back quickly, startled by my sudden movement.

  No! Dammit. She doesn’t understand what just happened.

  “No,” Hag whispered in my ear, the wet sound of saliva on her mushy gums turning my stomach. “Take her into a bathroom stall, put her up on the sink, and tongue her clit.”

  I swatted my hand at the invisible old lady and did my best to ignore Hag as I tried to think of something to say to Ava that might explain my behavior.

  “I didn’t mean to unnerve you,” I said.

  Unnerve? Who talks like that?

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I said.

  “I’m not at all,” Ava said with a cute chuckle.

  Why is she laughing? Is she making fun of the way I talk? She thinks I’m a freak. She thinks I’m a fucking freak.

  “Kill her,” Samuel whispered. “Bathe in her blood. We all fall down. Let her fall tonight.”

  “No,” I said accidentally aloud.

  “No?” Ava said, looking slightly confused.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  With that, I rushed out of the coffee shop and out into the street. There, under the lamplight in front of the coffee shop, I punched myself as hard as I could in the jaw. Putrid chomped his teeth at my ear and laughed at me. Rotten clapped his hands and rushed at my face, setting his bloodshot eyes no farther than an inch from mine, where he remained, as if daring me to push him away.

  “We will have to tongue that pussy later,” Hag said. “Let him be, boys.”

  Rotten backed away from me and they all vanished.

  That night, as I lay in bed, I realized what it was about Ava that I liked so much. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but she looked a little bit like Nikki from my childhood. From my early teenage years. Nikki who I’d been madly in love with. Nikki who’d destroyed my life. Nikki who I still wanted so badly and that desire had transferred over to Ava. I wanted Ava now.

  Lying back in bed, with demons surrounding me, I slid my boxer shorts off and kicked them onto the bed. My cock throbbed there in the moonlight and I wrapped my hand around it. No lotion. No sock. Nothing to aid me. I wanted it to be dry and rough and I wanted it to hurt.

  In my mind, Nikki was there in the room with me. She sat at the foot of my bed, her blonde hair hanging in tangles over two perfect tits. Hard and fake the way I knew hers would be. She was a gorgeous fucking model even as a kid. Everything about her was hard and firm and so fucking erotic. One swirl of blonde hair wrapped around her left nipple and I focused on it as I jerked my cock in my hand, pulling down hard and yanking up to the head vigorously.

  One of Nikki’s fingers was at her mouth. She bit down on the tip of it. She glanced down, signaling for me to do the same, and that’s when I saw her legs were wide open and her pussy was pink and wet and waiting for me. Her other hand parted the lips and she dipped her index finger inside. She moaned and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the feel of her fingers digging deep inside her.

  My cock ached and I pulled down on it harder, squeezing good and tight.

  “Come here,” I said out loud.

  The demons around me faded into the background. I didn’t give a shit about them. It was only Nikki and me. She got up onto her knees and crawled toward me on all fours, until she was in front of my cock. She lowered her face and rested her chin against the tip of it. She smiled up at me, letting me know she was in control and nothing I could do would change that. This was her world and I was only a spectator, begging for a chance with her.

  Then she gave it to me. She opened her mouth wide, licked her bottom lip, and then lowered herself onto my cock, wrapping her thick, red, luscious lips around my shaft and lowering as she kept her eyes focused on me. She slid up and I watched as each inch of me left her mouth wet and slippery with her saliva.

  My hand beat my dick so hard it started to burn but I didn’t care. I wanted Nikki.

  She sucked me as hard as my fist could squeeze. I dug my fingernails into my shaft and imagined Nikki’s teeth clamping down around me. She kept sucking my cock, rising and falling, and then her face transformed.

  Ava was there. Her hair hung down and tickled my balls as she sucked me off. She pulled up and let go of my cock. It bounced in front of her.

  “Can I get you anything else?” she asked, the same way she always did in the coffee shop.

  “Give me your pussy,” I ordered. “Give
me that sweet pussy right now.”

  Ava smiled and crawled closer to me. Her tits were smaller than Nikki’s but were still amazing. I wanted one in my mouth so I grabbed one and lightly tugged so she’d know what I want. She shimmied closer to me and took my cock in her hand, stroking it a couple of times before pointing it at her bare, shaved pussy, and directing it into her warm, wet lips. She squealed as she sat on me, unfamiliar with such a wide cock.

  “It hurts,” she said.

  “I know,” I replied.

  But she didn’t stop. Instead she fucked me harder and faster. I took her nipple in my mouth and bit down on it, hearing her cry in my ear.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Pre-cum drizzled out of my head and dripped onto my sheet as I continued to fist fuck myself with thoughts of Ava riding me.

  “I’ve always wanted you,” she said in my ear, and the voice had changed again.

  It was Nikki there riding me. This made me beat harder, my pre-cum lubing me up enough to pump my cock faster.

  “Come inside me,” Nikki said.

  That was all it took. As soon as I heard the words, I lifted my ass up and yanked down hard on my cock. Cum shot out of me and landed on my bedsheet. I didn’t stop. I kept pumping, shooting my cum all over the place.

  “Yes, baby, come inside me,” Hag said.

  I snapped back to reality and saw it was the old lady with the crown of spiked thorns and pale, wet skin, on all fours in front of me, urging me to keep going. Her gums smacked against each other as she made kissing sounds with her tongue lolling out at the center. Her bare, flappy tits hung down to the bed.

  Was she here the whole time? Have I? Did I? Was it all in my mind or did Hag suck my cock? Please tell me I didn’t fuck her.

  The demon smiled at me and rubbed her own tits and I leaned over the side of my bed and vomited on the floor. The other demons clapped and cheered.