Pretty Little Thing (1400 hits)
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Submitted by UberMadness! (View user info) at 2005-08-23 10:10:05 EDT
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Entry 1
Hoshiko stood on the wooden block as Nyoko tied the obi around her waist. Nyoko pulled the belt so tightly that she let out a slight gasp."I can barely breathe," Hoshiko said.
"Darling," Nyoko said with her head cocked to the side, "You had better get used to it."
As Hoshiko went to slide the wooden sandals onto her feet, she reached back to twirl a lock of her hair, and Nyoko quickly slapped her, saying, "Don't touch your hair! You are meant to look perfect!"
She looked in the mirror and studied her face. Her face was completely white, and a tiny spot of red blazed on her lower lip. Nyoko had arranged her hair in a high chignon on top her head, and it was embellished with flowers. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she struggled to stop herself from crying. She could not show her displeasure.
Nyoko stepped into the room and said, "Hoshiko! The party has begun. Go out there and take your place."
Hoshiko's eyes were pressed to the floor, and she said in a low voice, "I'm not ready."
Nyoko face became rigid, and she approached Hoshiko. "You're not ready for what? We have gone over this many times. You entertain the men. You make them feel good. You make them happy. This is no time for sadness. You are learning how to be a geisha. Do you know how many girls would die for this opportunity?"
"The only reason I'm here is because I have no where else to go."
"I don't care. You have no one in your life to take care of you, and I have given every ounce of myself to you so that you can make your own life. You will not need anyone once you become a geisha. You'll be able to take care of yourself."
"I've been taking care of myself since I'm five."
"Well, you weren't doing too well. Remember when I found you?"
Hoshiko did remember. She was eight years old, dressed in rags nearly dead from exhaustion and malnutrition. On that particular day, it was raining and she was trying to catch raindrops on her tongue. Nyoko was passing by with other geishas, who laughed at the poor little girl. But, Nyoko did not laugh. Hoshiko and Nyoko's eyes met. She swept Hoshiko up in her arms and took her home to the Butterfly House, where it was decided that Nyoko would raise her as her own child.
"I'm sorry," Hoshiko said.
"You shouldn't be so ungrateful. Now, go out there and remember everything you have learned."
Hoshiko rose from the stool and approached the door, where she took a deep breath and slid it open.
At that moment, every pair of eyes were transfixed on her. It was no secret that Hoshiko was utterly beautiful, but she was not prepared for the attention that she was receiving. The men who were seated at the table began to shout at each other, fighting over who would have the honor of sitting next to her.
The room smelled of alcohol, and Hoshiko tried not to gag as she took her place at the table. She told a story, and all of the men laughed. She asked them if they wanted more sake, and one of the men rose from his seat and said, "Beautiful, you should not be serving. You should be served."
He picked the jar up and began to pour wine into her cup. The entire room fell silent as they watched something they had never seen before: a man serving a woman.
That night, Nyoko beat her for allowing the gentleman to pour her wine. Hoshiko cried herself to sleep, wondering what else she could have done. It was a geisha's duty to allow the men to do whatever they wished. That was part of their allure and one of the many reasons why men wanted to be in their company.
Years went by, and Hoshiko was known throughout Kyoto as one of the top geishas-to-be. The day before her twentieth birthday, she went into the city to buy new kimonos, obis and other accessories for the ceremony in which she would become a true geisha.
As she searched the city for the perfect outfit, she noticed that a young man was following her. They exchanged glances a few times as she moved from shop to shop. He was very muscular, with thick black hair and deep eyes that danced when he smiled. Hoshiko tried to look at him as she ran her hands along the silk kimonos that lined the street outside of her favorite store, but it seemed as though she couldn't catch the full glimpse that she wanted.
She picked up a black kimono that was covered in hot pink flowers and held it up in front of her, studying the grade of the silk and the richness of the closures. When she went to put it down, the young man was standing in front of her.
"Going somewhere special?" he asked.
"It is for something special," Hoshiko said.
"Oh? Are you getting married?" he asked.
"No. It's for a ceremony."
"I see. You must be a geisha."
"Not yet," she said with a wide smile.
Hoshiko turned her back to walk away, and the young man grabbed her arm.
"You aren't even going to tell me your name? Maybe I'd like to have a party with you," he said.
"Why? You don't look like the type of man who could afford my services," she said.
"My name is Temyuki," he said.
She looked at the ground and fought hard not to smile. She said, "My name is Hoshiko."
"A beautiful name for an exquisite girl," he said.
Hoshiko swallowed hard as she smiled. "I have to get back to the Butterfly House," she said.
"Ah, yes. The Butterfly House. The top house for the top ladies."
She closed her eyes for a moment, and saw flashes of two of them together, wrapped in a blanket under the night sky. There were smiles and sighs and laughter. Babies and tears and the end of their lives.
Then she walked away from him.
The Eriage began at sundown. Hoshiko stepped out into the courtyard, which was lined with cherry blossom trees. A slight breeze rustled the flowers from the stems, and as she approached Nyoko, she felt as though she was walking on a cloud. Hoshiko kneeled down in front of her, and Nyoko replaced her red collar with a white one. Gone were the days of heavy white makeup and exaggerated features. Now, Hoshiko could be the simple beauty that she was.
Hoshiko, Nyoko and their sisters sat in the grand room sipping on sake and telling stories, when suddenly, the sound of rocks hitting the window interrupted their celebration. Nyoko rose from the floor and looked out the window, where she saw Temyuki running through the courtyard.
"Who are you?" she shouted.
Hoshiko knew that the man was Temyuki, and that he had come to see her. When Nyoko turned to face her sisters, she noticed that Hoshiko was acting strangely.
"Do you know him?" she asked.
Hoshiko said nothing.
Nyoko circled her as she asked question upon question, but Hoshiko never answered. The rest of the women slowly left the room in the silent understanding that they should give them their privacy. Finally, she grabbed Hoshiko by her collar and shouted, "You are the top lady in the Butterfly House! Don't throw away all that you have worked for because of some man. We do this so we don't have to rely on men to live."
Tears immediately shot into Hoshiko's eyes, then she stood up and cried, "I never asked for this!"
"Be quiet! You have a party to attend tonight. I suggest that you get ready for it, my dear," Nyoko said in a cutting voice.
That night, Hoshiko went to a private party at one of the local legislator's homes. It was her first night as a true geisha, and she was expected to put on a beautiful show, where she would perform a Jikata, a Japanese dance.
When she arrived at the gentleman's home, she realized that he was the only one there. Quickly, he locked the door behind her and took hold of her with much force.
"Do you remember me?" he asked.
Hoshiko studied his face and realized that five years prior, he had been the man who served her.
"Yes," she said.
"Do you know that you are the most breathtaking woman I have ever seen?" he asked.
She tried hard to hold her composure, and said between deep pants, "Thank you, sir."
"There is no need to call me sir," he said.
He released her and grabbed a sword that was propped in the corner of the room. He placed it under her red silk obi, and with one swift movement, cut it from her waist. Her kimono opened, and he could see the curve of her breasts underneath her dressings.
Hoshiko did not scream. She did not even whimper. The legislator's hands were rough against her skin as he tore her clothes from her body.
She was pinned against the wall when she realized that the sword was within her reach. Instead of fighting him, she went with each movement, making it seem as though she was welcoming his advances.
He moved down the front of her body, first kissing her breasts, then slowly working his way down to her navel. Hoshiko saw that his eyes were closed. She picked up the sword, which was leaning against the wall and plunged it through the back of his neck with ease.
The legislator fell to the floor, and Hoshiko stood over him and said, "I believe that you have underestimated me. Before I became a member of the Butterfly House, I trained with the local boys when they were learning how to be samurai. At night, I would crawl under the bridge and practice my moves with a stick. I have never stopped practicing."
His breath came in gasps, but no words fell from his mouth. As the legislator fought to stay alive, Hoshiko redressed.
Before she left, she stood in the doorway, her hands covered in blood. She turned her head and said, "By the way, thanks for the sake years ago."
Hoshiko knew that word of his death would spread quickly, and her sisters would certainly turn her into the local authorities. When she arrived at the Butterfly House, she moved quietly in her room and gathered everything that she could take with her. Most importantly, she took her sword, which she had hidden from Nyoko since the time she was a child.
As she snuck out into the street, freedom pulsed throughout her veins. She would never be forced to do anything she didn't want to again. Hoshiko never wanted to be a geisha, but she had no choice. At the time, it was the only thing that would save her.
And it became the thing that set her free.
Her feet carried her fast into the hills, where she stumbled upon a group of local soldiers who were drinking sake around a fire. She hid behind a tree, but the noise of her feet on the dead leaves caused one of the soldiers to get up from his place and seek out whatever was lurking in the shadows.
Hoshiko held her breath as she heard footsteps drawing closer to her, and her hand lay on the hilt of her sword. When the soldier found her, her sword was drawn and resting against his throat.
"Don't be rash," he said.
"And why shouldn't I be?" she asked.
"Hoshiko?"
"Who are you?" she asked.
"It's...it's Temyuki," he said.
She dropped the sword, and they locked in a passionate embrace. He brushed her hair away from her dirty face and kissed her lips softly under the glow of the moon.
"What are you doing here? What happened to you?" he asked.
"If I tell you, you can never return home again. I am no longer a geisha."
Temyuki began to laugh and said, "Oh, so you gave up your fame and fortune?"
"If you want to be with me, we have to leave now. The police are already looking for me, I'm sure."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Temyuki...I killed one of the top ranking legislators. I thought it was a party, but it wasn't. When I walked into his house, he was waiting for me," she said.
"Was he alone?" Temyuki asked.
"Yes."
One look in her eyes was all it took. He took her hand in his, and they began running through the woods, running with all of their strength and might.
Temyuki swore he would protect her.
Their nights were filled with making love under the stars and talking about their future together. Temyuki knew that if they could make it out of Japan, they would be safe. No one would question them, and they would be free to live out their lives the way they chose to.
It was dangerous. They would have to cross the sea to the mainland, and they had no boat. After months of traveling on foot, they finally reached the shore. They backtracked through the woods, looking for logs and ways to bind a raft together.
When they had collected everything, they still had no way to keep the logs from separating. Hoshiko reached into her bag and laid her obis and kimonos out on the sand. She began slicing them with her sword, making long strands that they could use to tie everything together. Temyuki cried as he watched her destroy her beautiful clothes, but Hoshiko smiled with each tear of the fabric.
The trip was very hard on the both of them, but on the day they reached the shore, Temyuki crawled from the raft onto the sand. On his knees, he thanked the gods for leading them to their asylum.
Hoshiko was right behind him, but what he didn't know was that she had her sword drawn. She threw herself on top of him and put her left arm around his neck.
"We made it!" he shouted.
"Yes, yes we did," she said.
The sword moved so quickly across his throat that he didn't realize she had cut him until the blood began to pour onto the sand.
His eyes were wide as he sputtered, "Hoshiko?"
She laid on top of him and said, "I belong to no one."
Temyuki's tears mixed with his blood, and in his last moments, he tried to understand why Hoshiko had decided to end his life.
Hoshiko stuffed the rest of her belongings into Temyuki's bag. With a song in her heart, she began to make her way to civilization.
She had come full circle.
The beautiful time-bomb.
An explosion of delicate destruction.
- VS -
Entry 2
This time, it read 10:06. Always the same color, the numbers - red. Never the same numbers.All the rooms were the same. He knew that. The bed was phenomenally comfortable, just like the rest. The walls were pleasant white, eggshell maybe, or something lighter. The lighting was so well done - in the corners, never overhead, never harsh, calming, soothing. Beige everywhere, with some black and light browns, plush wall-to-wall rugs. His clothes would be hung by the door. Not the only door, unless you were waking up, and then it was the only door that mattered.
He dressed slowly, A-shirt first, then the lightly starched button down, all the while thinking of her while he rubbed and ground his toes in the soft rug. He could stand there all day if he wanted, all year really. No one had ever demanded he leave a certain time after he woke up. He knew they were watching, but he didn't care. He would take his time, like he always did, because once he walked out the door nothing would matter again. One big loop, one big week, and he'd be here again, maybe in the same room, and this time when he woke up the clock would read something else. Noon maybe ... or was it midnight? You never knew with these clocks; they didn't have a P.M. indicator like some other ones. Maybe he'd wake up at 11:11, and he could make a wish, and the door would open again, and maybe his wish would just come true this time.
Maybe. He knotted his tie in a Windsor and stared at the door, the one that mattered.
<>
"What's her name, Joe?"
"Frieri. Lisa Frieri."
"Okay." Black sipped his coffee and tapped on the keyboard. "Twenty-three ... let's see ... did she tell you what she was thinking about when you took this scan?"
"Pff ... fuck if I care. Why, do you?"
"Well, yeah. Look at the scan. Did you look at this scan, Joe?"
Joe hadn't looked at the scan. His '69 Maserati had once again been held up in the shop, this time by a braking system that just wasn't right. He traveled all the way downtown, only to find out the parts would take a week to arrive.
Joe tossed his burrito wrapper into the trash. "I didn't have time, Black. Things came up."
"Things. Things more important than work? Again?"
"Hey, who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" Joe got out of his chair and began pacing around the room. Black hated his temper. Hated it. It accomplished nothing at best, and was brazenly destructive at worst.
"Joe, we've got to get this one started. She's already been under for close to ten minutes." Another sip of coffee, more tapping on the keyboard, more scrutiny of the scan. Lisa wasn't going to be easy.
"Okay, so what do you want me to do about it?"
"There's nothing that you can do about the scan now. Nothing. So let's get focused on the task at hand. Now, take a look at charts five and sixteen. Okay? See that? Look at five, then pull a 'COMPARE' statement on that with sixteen. What do you see?"
Joe tapped on his own PowerBook's keyboard. "Two ... completely different ... COMPLETELY different readings."
Black sat back, not smugly, but enough to look Joe in the eyes. Annoyed. "NOW do you see why I asked you if you read the charts?"
Joe sighed. "Yep. You're right. I'm sorry. I should have asked her."
Black went back to his own laptop, a tiny Dell. "Like I said, nothing we can do now. We're going to have to wing it. Not like we haven't before, but you know how much I hate winging it."
"I'll do it."
Black looked back up. "I know you will, and that scares me. Sort of. Look, I know a lot's been on your mind lately, Patty leaving and all and the dog dying and now this silly car of yours. Drop it, okay? You're above all that. Just give me one day here, one ten hour session. We need it. This girl's young, she's a brand new client, and we have no idea what she wants out of this. No idea, whatsoever. None of us asked. It's my fault as much as yours. Now, give me thirty seconds of your best effort here. Based on charts five and sixteen only ... don't touch it yet!"
Joe jumped back from his laptop. "I just wanted to see the other char- "
"NO! Listen! Just stop! Stop." A quick sip of coffee, lukewarm now. It was rare when Black jumped out of his skin. "There's a reason I wanted you to look at five and sixteen only. Just looking at those charts, what's your gut tell you she wants out of this? Go ahead, look back at the 'COMPARE'. Tell me. Give me something. Anything. What do you think she's getting at here?"
Joe went back to the PowerBook and stared at the FMRI-TD images. Two completely different readings, side by side. He pressed the 'C' key, and the screen animated and rotated the two separate heads, first showing Joe the various colors from every angle on the left and right of the screen, then meshing the two heads into one and again rotating the image all the way around. Joe pressed 'R' then 'C' again, and the animation unwound and reversed itself again. Another tap of the 'C' and it repeated its first trip.
Joe's eye's squinted, then lit up. It was enough to give Black chills. "Son of a bitch."
"Talk to me."
Joe turned slowly to Black and smiled, the gold capped molar gleaming under the fluorescents. "Girl's a virgin."
Black was speechless. "How do you know? Are you sure?"
"Yep. 'Member Maude, two Februaries ago? Nice woman, 30, short, real quiet and shy - "
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. She was a virgin?" Black drained the coffee in excitement. Maude? A virgin? How the hell did Joe get that out of her?
"Hell yes. She told me that in the interview. Well, not directly, you know, that's kind of embarrassing and all, but I figured it out. She kept talking about her exes and kept using the word intimate. 'We were never quite intimate either,' she would say with that longing, that high school bullshit type stuff, and that's how I knew. And then, right before we put her under, I was checking out her charts, and that's when I noticed that C4 in the frontal lobes. Check out chart five, and you'll see it clear as day. See it? Blue, then red, then white right there smack in the middle of the lobes."
Black tapped back to chart five. "Yeah, there it is. Looks like a lot of other things I've seen before though. Frontal lobes are always active."
Joe came over to Black's desk. "Yeah, but check it out, dude. The white's not what you're looking for. It's the blue. See that blue right there?" He pointed to the head on Black's screen, a single unmeshed image with the word 'FIVE' in the top right corner. "That's pain, fear. That I've seen a lot, but ... see how ... see how it's so concentrated in the frontal lobes? Right there? I've never seen that anywhere else except with Maude. Ever. She wanted to get her cherry broken, but at the same time man, I think she was worried what it would feel like. Remember, dude, she had been here before, twice. She knew how real this shit was, how it seems so damn real."
"So your final answer is?"
Joe tapped his fingers on the desk a few times. "Your girl here on the table's a virgin, and she wants to get nailed."
"Okay, fair enough. What about chart sixteen? How does that one fit in?"
Another flashy smile from Joe. "Even better. Even fucking better."
"There's no way."
"YES way. Twice I've seen that one, twice. Both times, they were" - he snapped his fingers - "subs."
"Subs?"
Joe smacked his PowerBook's screen down so hard he might have broken it. "Sub-freaking-ORDINATES. Slaves, baby, tie me up and make me lick the spit off your boots, maaaaa-ster. Yep, subs."
"Okay, I'm not so sure I want to know HOW you know that ... "
"Easy," Joe said, unleashing a small bag of Doritos from his desk drawer. "Subs are great to interview. They just come right out and tell you they like to be subs. Most of em are dominant motherfuckers anyway, big burly bikers, CEOs with multimillion dollar jobs and more power in their pinkie finger than we got ... well, maybe not US ..."
Black laughed. "We DO have some power here, don't we, Joe?"
Joe paused mid-Dorito and smiled, orange powder all over his front teeth. "Yeah ... yeah ... anyway, twice them subs came in here and I spotted em right as rain, right as a deer in the headlights. Boom. They wanted to be dominated, plain and simple. Easy. See those C1s on the left hemi of the brain there, Black? All red. That's the brain activity for anticipation, anxiety. Same shit happens when your woman's sucking away on your knob and you're a minute from your load. It builds up there. GREAT place to build pleasure. I love that area. Sometimes I'll throw a few hits in there randomly on clients just to spice things up."
Black sat back and laughed. He couldn't believe it. Joe had done it again. How come so many geniuses were so whacked out, he thought. Joe could read functional MRIs in multi-dimensions in his sleep, analyze CAT scans blindfolded, and diagnose a person's poison over a large cup of coffee and a ten-minute conversation, but he couldn't even concentrate long enough to pay his rent or take the trash down from the third floor of his condominium complex. Nutcase, but he loved him. No way would HE, Black, have been able to wing it like that, but Joe got it, and he was so damn CONVINCING when he drew it up. And ninety percent of the time, he was right. He knew what these people wanted to experience, even without interviewing them. When he talked to them beforehand, his slugging percentage was almost perfect.
"Blasted another one out of the park, Joe. I'm impressed. So, think you can wing it?"
Joe was already suiting up his lab coat. "Hell, yeah. I'll do a virgin. Little Lisa's got no idea what she's in for here."
"Just one thing, Joe. Think about this. I would consider charts five and sixteen mutually exclusive. Don't mix her virginal experience with the subordinate thing. They came up at awfully different times, one before the interview break, the other after the break and almost at the end. You're going to have to separate them. I don't know what she was thinking, but ... see, she probably doesn't know we ... know ... what she - "
" - wants, yeah, yeah, yeah." Joe finished. He donned his reading glasses on his head, preparing for the myriad of little buttons he'll have to deal with once he took control of the Injector. "Of course she doesn't know. She's new. She's probably skeptical, embarrassed, et cetera, thinking 'They don't know what I'm thinking.' We do, and that's the whole point. It isn't just about colors on a chart, chemicals in the brain. It's about lots of stuff, timing ... whatever."
Black got up out of the chair. "Not whatever. We want repeat clients, good reviews. Lisa's probably got rich parents, or she's balls-out rich and has friends with coin. We need to think about how we can bring her back again. Now think. If you were little Lisa, how would you want this little fantasy to play out? How would you want your Dreamcloud to pan out?"
Joe frowned in thought. "Well ... let's see. I'm Lisa? Hmm. I'd probably want the sixteen chart experience first, the bondage first. Get it rough, get turned on. Then a break, then slide into ... slide into the five chart, a nice virginal sex experience, and wake up to a beautiful orgasm, kissing, cuddling. You know."
"So," Black said, "what WILL you do?"
Again, the smile, the gold tooth, the Doritos on the teeth. "Me? Fuck her. Big black dude, whipping her bare pussy and ass with spikes. Fuck the five chart. No Dreamcloud for her. Tonight they're calling for thunderstorm warnings, and they're right in her area, baby."
<>
He arrived, and then waited.
"Mr. Patterson? Your room is ready."
It was daytime when he arrived at the Studio, as they liked to call it, high noon to be exact. He was sure it would be nighttime when it was all over, or maybe daytime again, the next morning perhaps. He HAD to be their best client. HAD to be. For him, there was nothing else. Nothing but the Studio, and her.
He had already answered the customary questions - have you eaten in the past twelve hours, have you had a stroke or mini stroke in the past three years, do you have heart problems, on and on and on. He was certain the chemicals they were pumping into him had far-reaching consequences that no one knew of yet. It was just too early on with this technology, they said, but he was sure the stuff they blasted you with right after they put you out was harmful or cancerous or deadly. He could die in the room and no one would know. No one. He could have been their guinea pig, WAS their guinea pig, whether they even knew it or not, and when it was all over they could bury him in the backyard and that would be it.
He felt the nurse proxy put the IV in. Two hisses - the same as the other fifteen or sixteen times. The sedatives would come soon. The lights in the corners were dimming now, the amber glow returning for him again. That big plant in the corner, it was always there. Was it aloe? Who cares? This was his joy, his solace, his version of four beers and a hooker on Friday night. Beautiful bliss. He couldn't wait. For what would seem like weeks, he'd be in love with the girl, and she would be in love with him. Love. It was such a pretty little thing sometimes, wasn't it?
A tear fell from his cheek. By now, the nurse proxy was long gone. No one was watching. He sobbed as the sedatives took place. "Chemical I" would take effect soon. The roller coaster was almost ready to take off. Pretty soon he'd be in love again, he'd be loved again, and in his little love world he would never even imagine it was nothing more than "Chemical II" making him feel that way.
<>
"Black."
"Yeah."
"I'm worried about this Patterson." Joe's stared blankly at the screen as "Chemical IV" took effect, right on time at eleven hundred seconds.
Black turned to him, the laptop glow reflecting off Joe's new glasses. "Why?"
Joe tapped the desk with his fingers. He always did that when he was nervous or thinking, the same way an impatient cat swings its tail around. Black had the impression that Joe was both - nervous, thinking, maybe more than that. Knowing Joe, that wasn't abnormal.
"This guy ... yes, he IS one hell of a catch, let me tell you. I don't know where the hell he gets his money. I don't care. But come on. He's in here every week, Black. Every goddamn week."
"Yeah?"
"Come on. Don't act like you didn't notice. No one has ever been in here more than three times. This guy - this is his ... seventeenth visit. SEVENTEEN visits, Black, at fifty thousand a visit. That's some cake, dude."
The laptop beeped. "Chemical V" was released into Patterson's bloodstream.
"So what's your point?"
"I'm worried, that's all. Not about where the money comes from. I just read about a guy spent three million for a painting made by two chimps. Some people have so much of it they're sweeping it outside so it doesn't clutter the foyer. This guy's probably one of em, but still - I'm worried."
"About?"
"I think he's ... nuts or something." Joe stared off somewhere in the lab, anywhere but towards the laptop. "I think he might have a Dreamcloud addiction."
Black stared at Joe. More, more, he said with his eyes.
Joe glanced at the laptop and watched the progress of "Chemical V". "His last fifteen visits? Identical. He hasn't had an interview since last year. He's been getting the same thing every time. He experiences the same Dreamcloud every fucking time. Something's wrong with that, Black."
"You've never gone under, have you Joe?"
Joe breathed in deeply. It was a rhetorical question, with a rhetorical answer. "No."
"So you don't know what it's like, do you?"
"I don't need to know. I'd rather not know."
"Because?"
Joe sighed again and turned away from Black, the stare once again finding its way to some random point in the lab. He didn't have to answer Black's question. Black knew. Addictive behavior was a part of Joe, the part that sometimes destroyed him. Joe was afraid he'd get addicted to Dreamcloud.
"Black, on a scale of one to ten, how good are my instincts?"
"Nine. You're one of the best. Nine and a half, even."
"Well, this is my gut instinct talking here. This guy's insane, and we're fueling his insanity."
"Why would you say that?"
"Fifteen times in a row, Black. That's why. Insane people do the same things over and over and over and get the same results, but they expect different things to happen each time. That's the textbook definition of insanity. It doesn't matter what it is in their lives. They keep doing the same thing, and they want to see something else happen. That's what I think this guy's doing, this Patterson. Whatever his poison is in those "Chemical" combos, he wants something different each time he rolls in here. And you know what, Black?"
"What?"
Joe got up and found some Funyuns in the desk drawer behind him, pointing at his PowerBook at the same time. "Him? He ain't NEVER getting anything different. Not one bit. That's how good we are at what we do."
Black tapped on his own keyboard aimlessly. "So what do we do? Do I tell him he's not invited back? Do I give him back his money for the last session? Do I tell him he has to change things up, that he can't get ... no I can't do that. Can I? I don't know - "
"I don't know either Black. But all I'm saying is I don't want Dreamcloud to be the catalyst, to be the venue, the breeding ground, for this guy's insanity. I really don't."
They both sat in silence, no windows in the lab to stare out of.
"Yep," Joe mumbled through the last of his Funyuns, "this guy is nuts. That's just my gut talking, Black. You take it how you want to take it." And then he left the lab.
On the PowerBook screen, an indicator appeared. "Chemical VI" was on standby to go into effect.
Black rolled over to Joe's laptop, tapped a few keys, and in a few short seconds confirmed dispersment of the chemical.
<>
This time, it read 5:33.
The door to the left of the bed was locked. He could never enter the Studio from that door, ever. The door to the right was the only door that mattered.
He got dressed, like he always did. A-shirt first, then the lightly starched button down. Slacks, watch, an impeccable tie. Socks, then shoes.
He walked to the bathroom to splash water on his face.
Dreamcloud. Founded by Drs. Wesley Black and Wayne Joseph Pistone. God bless those men. They were so good at what they did. He wanted to cherish the memory of his last Dreamcloud Experience before the memory wore away. They really were like dreams, those Experiences, but better. So real, so right. He loved being in love. He loved love.
He opened the door that mattered. It was bright outside. The sun was to the west. Post meridiem.
Perfect.
The Lexus hummed as he turned the corner again. There she would be, only ten minutes from now, leaving the yoga place. In his Experiences, he never included the yoga place, because he hated it. He only included things he loved, pretty little things that made his heart go pitter-pat. She was one of them, so beautiful, so wonderful, so young. In his Dreamcloud, he had taken her over and over again, moaned as her maidenhead broke, as she clawed his back and bit his ear when he came. She had raised his children, cooked his dinner, been his sex slave. She loved him, and he loved all of it.
There she was. On the corner. He pulled the Lexus to a stop, some fifteen feet from her. The gun was in his shirt pocket now, the same Smith and Wesson, loaded, safety off.
He could never have her. She would never have him. Such a pretty little thing. She had cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars, immense pain and suffering. He loved her. He hated her.
He opened the door.
She turned, startled, then smiled when she saw him. "Hi Daddy!"
"Hi Princess," he said, reaching inside the shirt pocket for the gun.
"I didn't know you were going to pick me up from yoga class today."
He grabbed the pistol, then put it back on safety. She never noticed. It was so small she didn't even know he had a gun on him, that he even owned one.
He couldn't do it. Not today. Not now.
"I hadn't planned on coming, Princess. But I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd stop by to see if you were here."
"Aw, thanks, Daddy, I love you," she said, and she kissed him on the cheek.
He helped her in the passenger side. "How about some ice cream?"
"Okay. Go to the Dairy Queen two blocks up, all right?" She put her hair up in a pony tail, a telltale sign of female teenage anxiety. "Daddy, listen. Can I go get my driver's permit this weekend?"
He started the Lexus again, and it hummed. He put the car in drive as he felt the Dreamcloud drift away, like the sunset in front of him. "Yeah, babe. Yeah, we can do that."
No, not this time, he thought a bit later, when the sun had dipped a little further, and the primary thought in his mind was what flavor of Blizzard to get. Not this time, but by then he wasn't really sure what it was he was denying.
A few minutes later, the sun would set again.
Entry 1:
Adamdidit2u
alex.lifeson
c1ndy
CoffeeAndSmokes
Crystle
DanielH
DonkeyOnTheEdge
indoninja
JonnyX
Katastrofadark
Pentameter
rad1101
supersloth
thecaes
zakalwe
11 eligible votes (15 total) *
Entry 2:
antluvdog
badassmofo
Berty
bigbabylons
bob
Circe
Confuzitron
dasteve
Dirtbird
domenad
engine13
ess-arr
HadToBeDone
i_walk_alone
intellismartness
jack11058
Jack_McCallum
jgreening
joedaddy
kimmy02721
Kre8rix
LadyPlural
mrwolf
MyNameIsTim
ParlorTrick
redraven
satchel
Siren
Snark
sparkle_pink
Spuds002
stevie_says
supadupapupa
ThineJericho
thorpe
tlozoot
William_Q_Percy
youarsoghey
33 eligible votes (38 total) *
* Eligible votes are those made by users who had either (A) posted 3+ messages OR (B) written 100+ [lowered from 750+] reviews as of the beginning of the UberMadness! competition.
User Reviews
Submitted by antluvdog (user info) at 2005-08-26 10:55:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Thanks, Pentameter. Good luck with the family situation.
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2005-08-26 10:52:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Congrats, Riz!
You know what you need to do now.
My reason for sucking: http://www.ubersite.com/m/73972
Submitted by mrwolf (user info) at 2005-08-25 09:43:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Thought the first ones story was good but was too choppy. Thought the second one rocked all over the place but was too confusing for my tastes. I know a lot of people like to think really hard, but I'd rather just be told a story.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2005-08-25 09:41:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Joe and Black are presented with such fluid skill. In just a few short paragraphs there are two charachters, perfectly defined. It was a tremendous pleasure to read.
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2005-08-25 08:59:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by zakalwe (user info) at 2005-08-24 21:08:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2005-08-24 16:44:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
SO glad I'm grayed out here...
Submitted by ess-arr (user info) at 2005-08-24 15:22:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
2
Submitted by kimmy02721 (user info) at 2005-08-24 15:09:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by ParlorTrick (user info) at 2005-08-24 11:18:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Tough choice. Both excellent.
Entry #1 - No not Temyuiki! Damn independent women.
Entry #2 - Very interesting concept, well written. So...about that 23 year old...
I voted for the concept of two.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-08-24 07:32:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-08-23 21:40:24 (#)
Ranking: 0
HOLY HAMMERED JESUS!
#2, you sucker punched me with that ending.
BRA-FUCKING-VO, baby. Nine kinds of awesome.
********************
Jack -- or anyone -- care to explain that ending to me?
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-08-24 07:30:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Oh I am wounded.
Both of these stories were clever, but had fatal flaws. Number 1: the detail and research was great. But there is no real definition of Hoshiko. She becomes a geisha, falls in love, kills a man, then kills her lover, and not a single one of those things felt right to me. It all seemed very incongruous with the character because her character wasn't well defined.
Number 2, I just got confused, man. After re-reading it I decided that Patterson wants to have sex with his teenage daughter and that's what he does in those sessions. I think. You never make it clear who's waking up to those A-shirts and vague alarm clocks in rooms with weird doors. And in one of the final paragraphs you mention the woman he has sex with is the mother of his children but you also imply that it's his child...ach, I just didn't understand. I didn't even know if that was supposed to be Joe or Patterson.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2005-08-24 05:19:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2005-08-24 02:47:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by supadupapupa (user info) at 2005-08-24 01:43:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
whoa, I really liked number 2, the characters were so real
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-08-24 01:17:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by i_walk_alone (user info) at 2005-08-24 01:01:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-08-23 21:40:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
#1: Great details, tight tale.
#2: Kind of a slog, this would have benefited from tighter editing.
#1: I have mentioned before that the whole Japanocentric thing is played out.
#2: This REALLY could have been condensed.
#1: Got to the end. Not bad, but Japan, Japan, Japan...
#2 Got to the end. Well... *
HOLY HAMMERED JESUS!
#2, you sucker punched me with that ending.
BRA-FUCKING-VO, baby. Nine kinds of awesome.
Jesus!
Submitted by domenad (user info) at 2005-08-23 19:03:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Katastrofadark (user info) at 2005-08-23 18:46:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by DanielH (user info) at 2005-08-23 18:18:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto.
Submitted by dasteve (user info) at 2005-08-23 18:11:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by ThineJericho (user info) at 2005-08-23 17:14:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Loved it. First, not so great. The writing didn't flow, at least for me.
Second, it took a few paragraphs to get into it, but it definitely was worth the read.
Submitted by bigbabylons (user info) at 2005-08-23 17:04:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Dirtbird (user info) at 2005-08-23 16:43:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by engine13 (user info) at 2005-08-23 16:41:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2005-08-23 16:04:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Entry 1 seemed very forced, or rushed, or something to me. I also just finished reading Memoirs of a Geisha.
I'm sorry.
Entry 2 I thought would be better if I knew what was happening from the beginning. I felt really confused, and bored, because I didn't have a clue what was going on. Although the nice little twist at the end was neat. Which is what I suppose you were going for the entire time.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-08-23 15:55:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
geisha/samurai, hmm? This story would make for a good manga...
I really wanted to vote for number 2, I liked the Dreamcloud concept, but that last chapter - wtf? Was that a dream, or not? It got all confused, and I have no idea how the story ended.
So #1 gets it.
Submitted by Confuzitron (user info) at 2005-08-23 15:46:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by satchel (user info) at 2005-08-23 15:08:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by alex.lifeson (user info) at 2005-08-23 14:31:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Spuds002 (user info) at 2005-08-23 14:06:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2005-08-23 14:04:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by tlozoot (user info) at 2005-08-23 13:48:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Reminds me of Eternal Sunshine on the Spotless Mind.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-08-23 13:02:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I don't think I liked either of these.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-08-23 12:58:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2005-08-23 12:33:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2005-08-23 12:16:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by bob (user info) at 2005-08-23 12:08:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by DonkeyOnTheEdge (user info) at 2005-08-23 12:05:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
/
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-08-23 12:04:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by William_Q_Percy (user info) at 2005-08-23 11:54:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Tits match-up.
Submitted by redraven (user info) at 2005-08-23 11:49:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2005-08-23 11:29:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2005-08-23 11:28:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
1) obviously well-research, but i had some trouble with the dialogue and what i felt was a rough ending. i still enjoyed it immensely.
2) i really like stories that start out in WTFville and barely resolve by the end, leaving you wanting more. This had that, and was extremely well-written.
-Jack
Submitted by CoffeeAndSmokes (user info) at 2005-08-23 11:26:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by antluvdog (user info) at 2005-08-23 11:12:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Holy shit ...
Holy shit ...
I can't pick.
Random pick.
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2005-08-23 11:10:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by intellismartness (user info) at 2005-08-23 11:08:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Damn, that was a tough one. These were both excellent.
But I didn't understand the ending of number 1.
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-08-23 11:07:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
definately.
Submitted by Siren (user info) at 2005-08-23 10:56:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Tough choice. I went with "sick."
Submitted by supersloth (user info) at 2005-08-23 10:48:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2005-08-23 10:41:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2005-08-23 10:33:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Tough choice, but one flowed better for me.
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2005-08-23 10:31:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No real contest.
Submitted by badassmofo (user info) at 2005-08-23 10:22:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment