“No, I mean, why is David in a coma?” I demand in a firm tone as I witness Krista excuse herself.
“Look, here, young lady. We do not tolerate uncooperative patients. We will restrain you if…”
Before the bitchy nurse can finish, Dr. Blantz chimes in, “That’s enough and beyond unnecessary. You. May. Leave,” Dr. Blantz orders as she rushes to my rescue. The foul-attitude nurse excuses herself with her stare focused on her feet.
“So, what’s this I hear you went for a walk? And apparently you attacked a coma patient?” Dr. Blantz stands with her hands on her hips and an awestricken stare.
“I-David… David is here. David’s the coma patient,” I shout as I shake my hands in the air. I rub my hands over my face in frustration, but she doesn’t offer a response. Instead, she hurries out of the door. I shift in discomfort as I wait to hear from her. The minute hand on the wall clock drags like thick molasses while I wait in agony.
“He’s gonna die, you know that, right?” Kate hisses into my left ear as I focus on anything but her. “He’s gonna die and finally be with me. Because you know that I’ll drag him away and have a sinfully ever after with him,” she taunts as she lifts her leg to straddle me. She digs her nails deep into my shoulders. “Ha! No medicine will ever keep me from you, you hear me?” Her shrieks quake against the walls.
Without a glance, I recline, then seal my eyes shut. I chant the meditative affirmations Olive suggested weeks ago. She’s not real. She cannot hurt me ever again.
Kate’s hands grip around my neck as she restricts my breath. I begin to feel her choke the life out of me. My hands frantically tear at her grip around my neck and my monitor begins a frantic alert. “P-please…” I huff out as she succeeds in leaving me unconscious.
“Scarlet?” Dr. Blantz’s gentle voice stirs me out of my forced slumber. Her touch upon my hand jolts me into a defensive recoil.
“No! No, Kate— No,” I squeal as I wrap my arms tight across my chest.
“Shhh. I’m here, everything is fine. But, dear, if you’re experiencing Kate delusions, I’m disappointed that you would conceal this from me.” Her stare floods my mind with guilt, and in defense, I avert my stare.
I press my chin against my shoulder and then cover my face with my palms. My overgrown eyebrows feel like caterpillars under my hands. I need a spa month. Tears form at the corners of my eyes as the old me—the materialistic, admittedly high-maintenance workaholic—flashes through my memories. I adored Chanel. I would often wear head-to-toe Chanel. And now, my hair and skin are long overdue for a thorough pampering. Will I ever be me again?
“Why the tears, Scarlet?” Dr. Blantz questions as she takes a seat next to me. Once I succeed in diverting her questions by answering with questions, I lead Dr. Blantz into a conversation about her current events. Within ten minutes, she reveals that she’s divorced and a Miami Native. After a long battle with ALS, her only family—her great aunt—passed away. She never remarried because her patients were too time-consuming. My delusion-plagued mind causes a halo to shine bright on Dr. Blantz’s head.
“Aw. Now, isn’t she just the sweetest,” Kate pants into my ear as she nips at my ear lobe. I clench my teeth and continue to focus on Dr. Blantz.
“You know, you can tell me anything, Scarlet. I want you to help me help you return to your previous mental state. But it’ll be unlikely unless we establish an open rapport that allows me to medicate you properly.” A tinge of anger rings from her statement, and then she lets out a profuse sigh. Shame sets in, so I divert my gaze toward my fidgety toes.
Fear is what keeps me from telling Dr. Blantz the truth. What if I tell her and she never discharges me? I refuse to spend the rest of my life in a psychiatric institution. Footsteps stride down the hall. I glance at the doorframe with hopes that someone would interrupt this conversation, but no one comes.
“I…” A proper sentence fails to form. “I, umm… At this moment, Kate is next to me,” my confession induces a profound shame to divert my gaze to Kate’s face. The crimson goo on her skin glistens under the medical lights as a sinister smirk spreads at her lips, and her flame pupils dance and flicker in their sockets.
She glides two fingers down my face and then huffs, “No matter what she gives you, you know that I’m never leaving.” Her lips sting against mine.
Dr. Blantz leans away from me as her eyes and mouth gape in utter disbelief. After several twitch-like blinks and an extended pause, she finally speaks, “We’ll need you to return to DLC.” Her glare is harsh while judgement and disappointment weigh heavy at her brows and at the corners of her mouth.
“Please. You said that I’d be discharged,” I plead with hopes that she’ll keep to our original plan.
“Sometimes it’s better to just lie,” Kate states before she plunges her lava-hot tongue in and out of my ear.
“Scarlet, the end-plan is that you are discharged, however. If we do not regulate your medication, there’s always a possibility that you could become a danger to yourself or to someone else. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.” In a curt manner, she stands, pats my leg, and bids me farewell.
I slouch low onto the bed until I’m flat on my back. The speckled ceiling paint dances and forms different shapes. Seeing this confirms that I’m truly not well. What happened to my mind?
Kate’s face forms in the center of the ceiling’s dancing shapes. Her lips open and then her tongue provocatively flicks at me.
“You win. I can see and feel you. Please just let me live a normal life, just go haunt someone else,” I implore in a whisper and will my mind to make her disappear.
“Ha! When will it penetrate your thick skull? You’re mine, my sweet, succulent, Scarlet,” she hisses as she seeps down from the ceiling and then fills my mouth to demolish my soul.
Kate
“Settle your shit, Inner-Scarlet! We’re getting the fuck out of here,” I snarl as I mentally push Inner-Scarlet into her wheelchair. I focus on an escape plan. We’ll be free, and I need to find a dick.
Scarlet’s body is anorexic sick, and I love it. Years of eating disorders, along with anti-psychotics, were my mental and physical demise. But, who gives a fuck, because I was thin.
Fragile, Inner-Scarlet struggles to break free of my possession, but what better afterlife is it than to fuck with her? Ha! Hmm, and now David.
I shake enough of my borrowed hair around my face to conceal our identity. The hospital tile stings at my soles as I slink my way with the IV stand in hand toward the restroom. This time, no one will ever find us ever again. You hear me, my sweet? Helpless Scarlet shakes her head in agreement as her wheelchair rattles beneath her. Scarlet needs a damn Ensure or some shit.
I creep out of the room and focus my gaze on the hospital tile. Every now and then I glance to search for a restroom sign. I notice a linen closet, so I duck inside. Stacks of uniforms, medical equipment, and cleaning supplies are lined along the walls. A nostalgic memory of my interning days forms in my mind as I search and find a spare uniform in my size.
A glance at the door ensures that I’ve locked the latch. In a panic, I remove the IV needle, cease the outpouring blood with medical tape and gauze, and with the speed of an Olympic runner, I dress myself. I jerk my attention to a nearby mirror; in my peripheral I find someone’s makeup bag.
“Eww! No,” Inner-Scarlet shouts as her hands flap like a damn bird.
“Shut it,” I scold my reflection.
With a quick pump, I squirt medical hand soap onto my palm and work up a thick, bubbly lather and then smooth it on my face. The warm rinse refreshes my face, and calms Inner-Scarlet the hell down. She fidgets in her chair, and her eyes urge that we leave. Chill the fuck out.
Following a few swipes with a borrowed mascara wand, a dabble of lip balm, and a much-needed elastic hair tie, we’re ready for our grand escape.
“We look like a nurse’s assistant.” My words through Scarlet’s voice agitate me. A deep sigh and eye roll at my reflec
tion gives me a glimpse of the bitch I use to be. Time lapses as my demonic soul stares at Scarlet’s reflection, and for a moment, I see my dark spirit peek through. A knock at the door breaks me from our trance.
“Hey,” a muffled voice questions through the locked door.
“Yeah, calm your shit,” I scold.
In a panic, I search for anything that would assist in the facade that I work here. A stack of linens calls my name, so I grab it and then straighten my shoulders and prepare to face the person that could possibly notice that we’re a fleeing patient. Before I open the door, I kick the IV stand out of sight.
My hand shakes at the door knob, but I quickly remind myself, you’re a bad bitch, and you can get us out of here. In a swift jerk, I thrust the door open, but drop the linens when my eyes take in the thick piece of meat in front of me. He’s chiseled like a stone carving, stacked with one muscle after the other, and his tight scrubs make it difficult to restrain myself. Our eyes connect, and there’s no stopping it. Hmm…this man-eater is ready to eat!
As usual, I take the lead. My stance perks up as my tongue glides provocatively across my lips.
“We’ll get caught,” Inner-Scarlet squeals from within. She begs for me not to fuck another stranger, but there’s no stopping this. Mmm…Kate needs this.
I give the signal I always use: a promiscuous smirk and head nod toward the linen closet. For a moment, his eyes widen. I bite down harder at my lip then yank him into the linen closet. The door slams, and instantly our lips attach. We barely gasp for air while we fumble to undress each other.
He detaches to say, “My name is…”
I quickly stop him and say, “You have no name. All you have is a job: To pound me hard and fast while I rub this tight ass of yours. Now do your damn job,” I demand as I dig my nails into his firm, bare ass.
With ease, he props me onto the linen closet’s sink. The cold ceramic invigorates my flushed skin. I wrap my legs around his waist right as he shoves his thick cock deep into my neglected, drenched clam.
A combined melody of grunts and moans fill the air while my dick-of-the-moment pounds into me. He’s brisk and straight to the damn point. I order that he wait until I’ve gotten mine, and like a good boy he holds it in. The moment I cum, I push him off of me, and like a good dick-of-the-moment, he cums into the linen closet’s sink.
“Where are you going?” His question annoys me, so I ignore him while I dress myself.
“Thanks for the fuck,” I say through a smirk as I barge out of the linen closet and pick up my speed as I seek an exit. My face feels flushed, and I take a second to consider my next move. Where the fuck is the exit?
“Scarlet?” a familiar voice reprimands from a distance. Ah. Fuck! It’s that kissy face nurse, but she has a car.
I pick up my speed to rush toward her, and once I’m at arm’s length I grab her arm and say, “Shut up before you get us caught.” I give her my bitch stare.
“H-h-how…how are you walking?” She’s glued to the tile and her gaping is a little cute. I pull her close, and then lick from the base of her neck and make my way to her ear.
“I’m Kate, Kissy Face. Now get us the fuck out of here.”
Kissy Face’s eyes and mouth widen to a hysterical size, so I stick my finger in her mouth and glide it down her tongue. She jumps away from me and stares in shock.
“Okaaay,” she conforms to my demands and leads me to the nearest exit. We burst through the exit like two fugitives and run before anyone can answer the alarms that blare behind us.
“Hurry, where’s your car?” I reprimand Kissy Face for not hustling fast enough. Stunned by our misconduct, she’s silent as she points at her car. I pull her with me then shove her body toward the driver’s side of her gunmetal-grey Hyundai Santa Fe. Olive gestures for me to take the passenger’s seat. A cloud of car aroma chokes me as I climb in and then lock the door. She ignites her SUV then eases out of the parking spot. I stare out the window and cherish the moment of freedom as I view the clinic grow smaller in the distance.
“Scarlet?” Kissy’s timid tone draws my attention to her clenched-knuckle-grip on the wheel.
“Look here, I’ve already said that I’m Kate. Do not pretend as if you didn’t hear me.” My demonic growl causes her to jerk the car into the other lane, and we’re reprimanded with frantic car horns.
“Okaaay… I’m not trained for this,” Kissy repeats to herself.
More than ten minutes pass before I finally say, “Where the fuck are you taking us?”
“Honestly, I don’t know…” She refuses to glance in my direction as tears trickle down her cheeks.
“Look, don’t fucking cry,” I demand. Taking a deep breath, I say in a low, lust-filled tone, “Just take us somewhere where we can be alone.” I cup her knee, then massage my way up her thigh. Once I reach her pussy, I rub circles onto the fabric that separates my fingers from her cunt. Kissy spreads her thighs and lets me tease her.
“Mmm…” she moans in response.
She focuses on the road while my fingers linger in her pant scrubs. Her twat is warm and ready for my curious fingers. My interest increases when she thrusts for me to continue to please her. I pull my fingers from her pants, to taste her. Just like she smells, she’s as sweet as Scarlet.
“Why don’t you take us somewhere…special?” I pant into her ear while I cause her pelvis to quiver. She moans and trembles when she cums and again causes the car to veer into the next lane. Once more, a unison of car horns honk at us.
“Mmm. I can make you quiver for days. Now, take us somewhere so that I can have my way,” I say before I suck at my fingers like the cock sucker I am. “We need to hurry; I have this hunger that needs to be quenched. No matter how often I nourish it, I always need more,” I growl as memories of my step-brother form in my mind. He infected me with this hunger for more. My step-brother knew every spot to touch, how to make me beg for it. He had his way with me—good old Hamilton taught me to like it.
My memories of years with Hamilton overflow my mind’s eye. He taught me everything I learned to love. I was only thirteen and he was nineteen. Ohh, the memories of all the friends he taught me how to please. He knew I had a crush on him, and for months he seduced me. First, with hugs then step-by-step he finally had me under him moaning for more.
I reach to give Kissy’s twat another go, but she jerks away and says, “There’s a cop. Please, I don’t want a ticket.”
We stop at a traffic light, then after, we drive in silence until we reach a mediocre, neutral-colored, townhouse complex. She parks and then releases a drawn-out sigh as she shifts in her seat.
“Well…we’re here. Now what?” Her smile seduces me to lick her lips, so I do.
“Now, we fuck,” I gasp before I attack her lips with my hunger. Her desire is as strong as mine, and her lips and tongue temporarily quench my hunger. My cum drenches my pants, so I shove Kissy Face’s hand onto my hot and drenched clam. She gasps and tells me to follow her inside. I laugh at Kissy Face when I notice her similar reaction to adjust herself when we exit her SUV.
A hideous, golden door knocker catches my attention. Scarlet’s pathetic reflection shines back at me. A deep growl thunders from within me, “Hurry up.”
She twists her neck to face me, then says, “Scarlet, your eyes…your eyes…are glowing red.” She squirms and tucks herself into a corner.
The reflection of my flamed eyes shine from the doorknocker. “Bitch. I told you: I’m. Not. Scarlet.”
Kissy jumps and then scurries to open her front door, and before the door is wide enough, I shove her inside. “What the fuck? Your house is so…plain.” I stand in her pathetic excuse of a foyer.
There’s no photos on the walls or any type of homely décor, just an ugly ass brown sofa with a matching—if not uglier—coffee table. I follow Olive into her kitchen, and the poorness continues. Nothing. There’s nothing on the counters; it’s as if this were her first home and she gave up even trying to decora
te.
“I like to spend my money on other things,” she whispers when she notices my revulsion.
“Hmm…like what? Because obviously it’s not on clothing or accessories,” I say after I’ve noticed her frumpy purse and shoes. I take in Kissy’s outfit and snap, “Some women should wear more than jeans and a t-shirt, or at least try.” Her gaze continues on her hands as a pout forms on her lips.
“Come, I’ll show you where my money goes.” She perks up and reveals an enticing grin. We ascend a staircase that again lacks a touch of home décor. We reach the stair’s platform and are faced with four closed doors. She points at the second door on the right, then in a deep unfamiliar tone, she instructs me to open it. My step-brother’s alpha demeanor flashes in my mind, and Kissy’s new attitude revs up my hunger.
“Go. Inside. Now,” she orders, before she presses me against the bedroom door. Her hands explore my body like a bad cop all over some sexy chick. Deep down, this is what I like—she knows it. Without protesting, I open the bedroom door. A desire-filled gasp hangs from my lips.
“Ooo…I’m ready to play, Kissy Face,” I rasp as I take in her playroom.
Dark ultraviolet paint covers the ceiling and walls. Black linoleum covers the entire floor. An assortment of leather restraints hang on display on one wall, while leather whips and other trinkets hang on the other wall. A gush of warmth rushes out of my tender hole as I relish at the king-sized bed that’s covered with a simple, plum-colored, fitted sheet. I’m perplexed by the unrecognizable restraints that line the sides of the bed.
“I’m not sure what I want to do first,” I admit as I walk in the direction of the restraints.
“You don’t get a choice in this room. The safe word is, ‘pop’. Now, be a good pussy and spread your limbs across the bed,” she orders and gives my shoulder a nudge toward the bed.
As the sexy, sleek, pussy that I believe to be, I slink my naked self from the foot of the bed to the center—I make sure to give Kissy a grand view of all that’s waiting for her. Inner-Scarlet places her palms on her face and shakes her head. Just sit back and enjoy the pleasure.
Scarlet Unleashed Page 11
