The sickest thing I ever wrote. (589 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.85 on 15 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Johnny Mac <wjmcintyre.at.gmail.com> (View user info) at 2006-10-25 17:12:54 EDT
Everyone remembers their favorite car, and chances are you hated that piece of junk when you actually drove it. Mine was a 92 Dodge Dynasty, a rusted out, Primer Grey and Royal Blue boat. I ended up having to get rid of it early in our relationship, we had only been together two years. But the story of the wreck is good enough to repeat.
To set the stage in your mind, the year was 1999, I was 18 and it was the Day of the Zombie uprising. You remember that right, 08-09-1999, the day the dead rose from their graves and nearly took over the world? It was pretty quick, the government handled it, and this was during the whole Columbine thing, so you might have been focused on why people kill other people, so I can forgive you if you dont recall the incident.
It was around 10 in the morning, I was jobless, and sleeping in someone elses house, between a broken lamp and a hooker. Waking up like this is kind of scary, because you just KNOW that even though she got drunk and fell asleep, the bitch is going to want to be paid for the whole night. Hell, when you WAKE UP next to a hooker, in my mind, you should get your money BACK. I can get sex any time, I pay THIS chick to LEAVE when its over. However, most of the time the girl will go to sleep, and leave the "Meter running"
Knock, Knock Knock
The knocking on the door was something I could ignore at first, it was banging in succession with the pounding of my temples as the suns rays for the first time penetrated my hung over corneas in a week.
I should still be asleep.
The knocking got louder and louder until it was impossible to shut out. I didnt want the hooker to wake up just yet, until I could raid her possessions and steal about 50 bucks to pay her with, maybe some blow so I could wake up. I looked around and tried to take stock of where I was, who I was, but nothing was coming to mind. All I remembered after leaving the house last night was going to a rat hole bar, getting into a drunken fight with the bouncer, and leaving with the now-naked 15 year old hooker, who was now starting to stir due to the ungodly banging on the front door, wherever it was.
After some quick searching of the area, I found my four year old pair of Jeans in the floor amidst condom wrappers, empty bottles of pills and booze, needles and old issues of Hustler. Fuck, I wouldnt even know where to start looking for my shirt. Her Mini-purse was sitting on the only thing in the room which resembled real furniture, the television. I opened it and was disappointed to find nothing but more condoms, one bag of what Looked like Meth, and a can of Mace. I found myself wondering if I paid her in advance. If not, there was going to be a problem real soon. Whoever this bitch was, she was starting to make the little noises girls make when they start to regain consciousness. And she farted, loudly, which grossed me out entirely. It was only then I noticed the bald spot in the back of her head. I lifted the ratty, torn blanket just to make sure.Thank god. She was a woman.
I stumbled blindly through the house, which looked like it had been abandoned for a long time, and used as a squatting ground for the local homeless population. I seemed to be alone, just me and the hooker, though I could not be sure, where the hell was I?
The knocking at the door was becoming more insistent, louder. I could barely stand, barely open my eyes, every part of my body ached, I was nauseous, dizzy and the pounding on the door became my whole world. Stumbling blindly through the hovel to find the cause of the sound I pierced the soft meat on the bottom of my foot with some kind of syringe.
Where the fuck am I?
Finally I found the front door, after clearing roughly fifty pounds of assorted trash out of the way, I opened it. The sunlight blinded me, forcing me to close my eyes right as I caught a glimpse of a Hulking Shadow. I think some sound of agony escaped my dry throat as it happened.
BAM! In the dark world behind my tightly shut eyelids flashbulbs exploded, bells went off, and I had the sensation of falling. It was only then that I felt the pain in my jaw. Whoever this person was, they had just hit me in the mouth with something. I tasted Blood, my front teeth were wiggling in my mouth, but compared to the headache, body aches and needle hole in the middle of my foot, it wasnt so bad.
"You have something that belongs to me, Mothafucka" The hulk said. His punch had knocked me back into the house, so I could only then open my eyes and see my attacker.
Standing over me was a large black dude, wearing a few oversized gold chains, a wife beater shirt and a pair of new looking jeans.
"Who the f...?" BAM! He kicked me in my already bleeding mouth with the pointed toe of his gator skin boot before I could even finish. This was enough to send one of my front teeth skidding across the floor. Whoever this fucker was, he wasnt here to talk. My eyes watered, I couldnt tell you if it was from the kick, or the light. I was in a world of pain. He kicked me about the head and body for a good three of four minutes before stopping again to ask "Where is my property?"
I was scared to answer, and in no shape to even consider defending myself. I just wanted some water and sleep. Thats all. Even sleeping next to a filthy, smelly hooker. Thats when it occurred to me who this guy was. I had just rolled off of His Property. This was the tax for keeping a hooker out all night.
"Eh? You must mean the skank bitch on the couch, right? Take her." And then, I couldnt tell you why, I added: "Im done with the Bitch."
This led to me being kicked for another three or four minutes. I stayed crumpled on the floor until I was sure he had walked away. From the vantage of laying on your back, on a sticky floor, in a puddle of what appeared to be either vomit of old feces, this place looked pretty big. I lie there and wonder how big this house actually was. I thought I saw stairs somewhere.
"Wheres she at Bitch? Boomed in my ears. Apparently the pimp was having the same trouble I was with the place, it MUST be big.
"Couch.." He picked me up by my collar:
"What fucking couch man? I ain't got time for games!"
"No games man" Blood was dripping from my jaw with every word "I dont fucking live here, I dont even know where this is. Bitch is on the couch in a room somewhere over that way." I pointed at the doorway through which I had entered the foyer. He must have believed me this time, from the look of me I appeared to be a vagrant. He punched me in the nose, breaking it, and dropped me to the floor. I fell into a heap. I could barely stand BEFORE.
"Best not be fuckin with me." And with that he walked off.
I tried to sleep right there, but was in constant fear of being beaten again. I turned over, wondering where the kitchen or the bathroom was, or if there was even water CONNECTED to the house. And that is when I realized I wasnt alone.
The pimp was coming back, still unable to find his whore in the tangle mass of wood and needles that was this dump. I saw him appear in the doorway. This time he had a Pistol.
"Im done playing fucking GAMES !" His eyes opened wide, as if his eye sockets wanted to spit his eyeballs right out. The giant of a man convulsed, like he was humping the air in front of him, its the only way I can describe it, he made no noises, just fell to his knees and then on his face. Behind him was another man, covered in filth. There was a swollen mass of tissue where one eye should be, his face was gnarled and twisted, almost inhuman looking.
Cancer, or Leperacy, maybe
His mouth twisted into a crooked smile as he began patting the body down. In his left hand was one of the many syringes laying around the place. The beakc of the Pimps shirt was covered in small red dots. This guy must have stabbed him with the needle about 10 times, like a prison shanking.
"You wants something? You can take it. His money and drugs are mine." though the man creaked out through his toothless grin. I tried to get up, but fell back over, groaning.
WHERE THE HELL AM I!?
"He bring anybody with him?" the twisted figure screeched out, his breath reaching me even five feet away. This fool smelled like ass.
"No, I dont think so, but one of his girls is on the couch." I groaned. Please, let me sleep, here in the filth, I dont care.
"Yeah, I saw you come in with that one, fine piece of ass too. Mind if I take a turn?" He had the creepiest smile when he said this, like something out of a bad horror film.
"I dont give a fuck." I spat out, sick of this place, this existence "Where's the fucking bathroom?"
"Shit, We gonna have some fun with that bitch." He chuckled.
"WHERE IS THE FUCKING BATHROOM!" I yelled as loud as I could, I didnt want to seem ungrateful, but dehydration was starting to set in from the liquor and whatever drugs I had been on the night before.
The crack head seemed startled, then his smile came back, I guess he knew what I was going through. His grin almost took a warm quality as he pointed to a door about three feet away from me. I hadnt even noticed it. On hands and knees I crawled into the doorway, and threw the door shut with all the strength I could muster.
The room was only lit by a single window, which was broken. The bathtub looked like it had been used as a urinal trough for a long time now. it was filled with Urine, which had a greenish mold floating on top.The stench forced me to retch, I tried not to look at the broken tile floor my hands were touching. The walls were smeared with a mixture of feces, vomit and blood, the contents of the toilet looked like a yellowish mud, as if it had been used for years, but never flushed. With nothing in my stomach to vomit, I found the strength to stand and look in the cracked mirror.
Man, I was as fucked up looking as the crack head. My face was swollen with bruises and cuts. Some mosquito bites and new pimples had boiled up, no doubt from the fact I was sleeping face first on a bed of bacteria, in a toxic waste dump of a house. Apparently the mutant crack head had found the girl. I could vaguely hear her screaming for him to get off of her, there sounded like a struggle, one more cry for help, and then nothing. I remembered the bags of meth in her purse, and hoped I could get to them before the crack head. My mouth looked like someone had run a train into it, the one front tooth that was left was hanging on by a mere flap of flesh. I twisted it out and threw it into the sink, which was full of human filth as well. I tried to vomit again, nothing. Even the light coming through the filthy, broken window was too much.
I have to find where I am, and get the fuck out of here, was the only thought running through my mind.
User Reviews
Submitted by littledan (user info) at 2006-10-26 21:31:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I looked on DoJo Productions and I can't find this story, can you post a link?
This story is great, by the way. I can't wait to read more.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-10-26 11:50:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
eeew
Submitted by matnotharry (user info) at 2006-10-26 08:48:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Kickass. There any more to this?
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-10-26 08:36:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Finish the story properly, and I'll finish rating it.
Submitted by Blinkish (user info) at 2006-10-25 23:18:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Allyson (user info) at 2006-10-25 23:11:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
WOOOOOOO
Submitted by WingedFoote (user info) at 2006-10-25 22:04:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
dodge dynasty?
Submitted by JohnnyMac (user info) at 2006-10-25 21:30:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yeah, I started writing about my first car, but the story took a seriously fucked up turn, and I got into a "zome" with it. True, THe intro doesn't really have any context.
The Story got all long, so I broke it into two parts, I'm posting the next half tomorrow, that's why it kind of leaves you hanging. I appreciate all the great feedback, glad you liked the first half.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-10-25 20:13:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Take out the intro and you have an awesome piece here...
Submitted by lechuza (user info) at 2006-10-25 20:12:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
what the hell man if they are comin at you , means they want somthin ,more better you look after them and care for them ,than they get on the street uh?
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2006-10-25 18:49:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
A roller coaster ride.
Slow and uphill at the start, then took off fast with a quick change of direction, and it was over too soon.
But no car wreck, though. All good roller coasters leave you where you started.
Submitted by drgoatcabin (user info) at 2006-10-25 17:48:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by St_Jimmy (user info) at 2006-10-25 17:31:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I didn't get why the first paragraph was about a 1992 Dodge Dynasty. It had nothing to do with the rest of the story (which was quite good).
I still own a 1989 Dodge Dynasty. That ride attracts mad bitches!!!!!
Submitted by Antioxident (user info) at 2006-10-25 17:25:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-10-25 17:20:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
BEST POST THIS WEEK