TW* Gore
When I woke up, I felt weightless, unburdened. For just a moment, I didn’t know who I was. As my memories came flooding back, as they always did, a great sadness overtook me. No matter what I did, how much I drank, I would always remember the next morning.
I stretched hard, my muscles objecting, radiating a satisfying defiance to my orders. I sat up, shielding my eyes from an intrusive sun beaming through torn blinds. “Shit” the word slid from my cracked lips. I sat there, running my fingers along the edges of stains coming from God knows where. The pillows that usually lay beside me were thrown all about, some on the floor. The sheet was pulled off the corner on the same side. I had gotten someone to come home with me.
I laid back down, smiling now. Gratification overshadowing pain as I tried to recall the events of the night prior. I wondered what lies I told, how I’d convinced someone to follow me home. It didn’t really matter; I could revel in my thoughts for a while.
A few hours later, I woke up again. This time I didn’t receive the bliss of momentary ignorance, instead immediately bearing my existence. The thrill of last night’s apparent conquest was fading now, slowly morphing into a yearning, from the deepest parts of whatever I am. Soon my very soul would begin to itch, desire would gnaw at my consciousness until it was reduced to something primal. I needed sex.
I forced my body into an upright position once again, popped two ibuprofens, and downed a bottle of cheap water, a metallic taste filled my mouth. I staggered past piles of dirty clothes into the bathroom to confront myself in the mirror.
I’d always wondered why those fortunate enough, or unfortunate enough to be conscious were able to see themselves. Surely that was a glaring oversight in the theory of intelligent design. My thoughts, ideals, values, perceptions, these things were me, something abstract. Being able to look at myself had always blurred that; I could see that I wasn’t special. I see the same thing every other person who has looked in a mirror has seen, a body.
I shook my head; I’d let my mind wander again. I stared at myself, taking in my features. Deep purple bags lay beneath bloodshot eyes. I looked tired.
An inclination suddenly came to mind, a faint call to do better, to get better. But it was too far away, deafened by doubts and apathy. Pushing the feeling away felt good, the feeling one gets after turning off one’s alarm and crawling back in bed. I knew I needed another fix, there was no way I could live without it.
I made myself as presentable as possible, brushing my greasy hair and grabbing a different t-shirt from a pile. I wanted the day to be at least slightly productive, so I picked up one of the brimming trash bags, feeling its strings pull tight against the weight.
I awkwardly shuffled the large bag down the hall, heaving open the door to the trash room. The smell of rot flooded my nose, warding off the feelings of hunger that had just been beginning to rise. As I struggled to get the bag into the dumpster, something caught my eye.
A black T-shirt with foreign lettering lay haphazardly in the corner. Something about this shirt had grabbed my attention and refused to let go, I walked over and picked it up by the collar. While it did have its fair share of stains, it was in far better shape than the one I was wearing. I didn’t understand what the shirt said, but I did recognize the theta symbol from math class. I looked around to make sure I was alone, then asked myself if this was really a low I wanted to stoop too. I sighed, before peeling my shirt off and adorning the new one.
The cool night air bit harshly against sweat on the back of my neck. I reached to open the car door, feeling the goosebumps beginning to form on my arm. The beat-down sedan whined, protesting my attempts to start it. “Come on piece of shit”, The 4-cylinder shot to life. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the local bar.
My mind was absent during the drive, far removed from the streets around me. All I could think about was what I would say or do to convince someone to sleep with me. I decided I wouldn’t get as drunk this time, I wanted to remember it tonight.
A few minutes later, I pulled into the closest handicapped spot and shut off my engine. I drank some more water and purged my mind of any thoughts. If I went inside like this, I’d be sleeping alone tonight. I leaned back against the headrest; it was time to be someone else.
I looked up confused, I had taken the same route as always, yet in front of me wasn’t the shitty dive bar I’d grown to know. In fact, this part of town didn’t look familiar at all. The lingering chill on my spine was slowly replaced by heat in my stomach, I began to bite at the skin on my bottom lip. I must’ve taken a wrong turn while lost in thought.
I saw a flickering neon green sign that read “Hades’ Hideaway”. The outside of the building looked modern, with large black planes of glass making it impossible to see inside. The artwork on the door piqued my interest, The guardian hound Cerberus, with a large pint for each head. Each one also looked more wasted than the last, with the third being unconscious.
The artwork made me exhale through my nose, dispelling the clouds of anxiety forming within me. What the hell, I thought, a fresh set of faces would increase my chances of getting laid. I was starting to get a reputation at the old place after all. I checked the time, 9:00. I did a quick pat for my wallet, phone, and keys, then made my way inside.
Pulling the door open, I was immediately taken aback. Despite the modern look from the outside, the whole place had an incredibly rustic feeling. The bar itself being made of worn mahogany. There was a large hearth to the left complete with a roaring red fire inside. The rest of the space was filled with rows of sparsely populated wooden tables and chairs. The few people seated seemed wasted; I would fit in here.
The next thing to catch my eye was the gorgeous bar tender. She was tall, slender, with wavy brown hair. Sadly, I knew she wouldn’t be an option, any interest she’d have in me would be gone the moment I stopped tipping. That’s when I saw her.
Pulling out a chair at the bar was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. It was as if a sculptor of higher power had pried into my sub-conscious, collected a slab of my deepest desires, passions, and dutifully chiseled her free from them. The mere sight of her started an intense reaction in my body, engrossing me in a state of euphoria. I had to have her.
It was the bar tender who pulled me out of my daze, “Are you lost or something sweetheart?” The question hit me like a splash of ice water, “I was just trying to remember if I left the stove on.” I said, starting my path towards the counter. My legs carried me of their own volition. I began frantically thinking, trying to come up with something to say when I got to her.
Outfit, the answer materialized in my head. She was wearing sleek black combat boots, thin strands of fabric rose from her ankles and twisted, forming fishnets. I let my eyes trace them up her legs, pausing on her thigh where they appeared to be under great threat of ripping. Further up, I saw the frilly end of a short black skirt, high waisted with suspenders. And then finally, I noticed it. The perfect Ice breaker, I licked my lips in anticipation.
“That’s gotta be the second ugliest shirt I’ve ever seen.” The woman shot me a scornful look, but it quickly softened as she realized I was wearing the same shirt as her. “Oh yeah? I’ll take it yours is the first?” “No, that’s the first” I say pointing at a large patron across the bar, sporting a worn black tank top with large letters reading “I Pee in Pools” in bright green font.
The corners of her mouth quickly turned up into a smile that could melt away anything, fear, pain, uncertainty. “At least his doesn’t look like he found it in the trash on the way here.” The comment stung, was it that obvious? “I’m fucking with you!” She said mockingly, “I’m sure you paid extra for the distressed version because you really dig the homeless look.” I had no idea what that meant. “You got me, I’m a connoisseur of the distressed.
So, tell me, what are you doing here all alone?” “Celebrating.” “That’s a little vague, celebrating being the loneliest at the bar?” “Maybe I was until you got here,” she smiled up at me again, stealing my breath. “I’m a former addict, today makes, well, quite a few years clean.” “Well,” I said sliding into the chair beside her “I’m a present addict, Henry” I make a grand motion of reaching out for a handshake, “Cacia.” She said, taking my hand.
Her skin was so soft, I wanted to pull her close and feel her against me. I looked up, making eye contact with her for the first time. Her gaze destroyed my train of thought, filling my scattered mind with awe. Her eyes radiated a shade of blue I’d never seen, after what felt like minutes she blinked, snapping me back to reality.
I had no idea how long I’d been aimlessly staring at her, “Well, I’m assuming whatever addiction you kicked isn’t related to alcohol, so how about I buy you a drink?”. “I got it covered” she said before motioning for the bartender. “Whiskey sour, one for my friend too.” “You’re older than you look I guess” she laughed, before flipping me off.
It was loud in the bar, the patrons made up for their lack of numbers with their raucous spirits. The sound of chatter and glasses clinking filled the air. The smell of alcohol was strong, only slightly masked by Cacia’s flowery scented perfume.
The bartender slid two drinks in front of us, I took the orange out of mine before downing it in one gulp. Her eyes grew wide with amusement, as she did the same. I was taken aback by the strength of the whiskey, “That’s some good shit” I said while shuddering. “Right? They’re heavy handed here, that’s why I’m a regular.” The bartender shot her a glance before looking away. “How about some shots then?” “Sure.” She replied.
“Hey, you said you were an addict, right? Alcoholic?” Oh, how I wished that were the case. How much simpler it would be for me to have a drinking problem, at least then I’d only be hurting myself. “Something like that.” “Ever tried to beat it?” “A few times actually, I can’t seem too.” “You can beat anything, if you want it bad enough.” “Sure, I suppose, and what if I don’t” Two shot glasses slammed onto the bar, the sound of vodka filling them made me thirsty.
“Cheers to that!” Cacia held her glass up to me, letting me dink it before we drank. “I was like that for a long time, eventually something will happen that’ll show you what’s important.” “Oh yeah? Like what” I wipe my mouth and ask for another round. “Well, really it’s different for everyone. For me, reality set in slowly but surely. I realized I couldn’t keep living … the way I was.”
Something about the sureness in her voice, the hope, saddened me. I took my next shot unceremoniously “I missed my wake-up call, this is all there is now.” The words came out before I could think, I cursed myself internally. My ears began to grow hot as I became aware of sweat building in my armpits.
“Tell me about it.” She scooted around on the stool to face me, before crossing her legs. I suddenly got the feeling she’d done this before, and that she was good at it. I almost opened up to her but caught myself.
“So you can tell me a bunch of shit I’ve already heard?” Her compassionate demeanor dropped for a moment; I could tell she was taken aback. “I mean, whatever helps I guess, but let me ask you an honest question.” She sat up straight, looking ready for a challenge.
“Ask me anything you’d like” she said with haste in her voice as more liquid filled her glass. “You still think about it every day, don’t you? You still feel the urges.” “Of course I do, but every day I make the decision not to act on them.” “And you’re content with that? Always craving something you know you’ll never have.” “I’m content with the life I’ve built, the progress I’ve made.”
Cacia relaxed again, letting her posture break as she shifted her weight onto her elbow, supporting herself on the bar. She’s had conversations like this before, she knew she was right, and maybe deep down I did too. “Is it exhausting being so self-righteous? You’re fighting against our nature you know.”
Intensity filled her eyes, she leaned into me, eager for me to finish talking so she could interject. “Really? Why don’t you tell me what our nature is?” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. “Our nature is to find pleasure, whatever it may be that brings it. To consume, to take risks, to fuck.” We sat there for a moment, in silence, as she looked me up and down. I took another shot, already feeling a strong buzz, she looked and sounded unphased.
“Hmm, maybe, but if that’s true, explain the world around you. How could we have accomplished so much if it weren’t our nature to strive for growth.” Her pale blue eyes focused on mine, as her lips curved upwards into a warm smile. The hearth caused orange and red light to dance across her skin. “We all have wants, desires, some more than others, but we can all overcome them.” She again relaxed against the bar, satisfied with her answer.
I paused for a moment, thinking more about what she was saying than I wanted. Even if she was right, I couldn’t let her know. I thought about her confident attitude changing to one of desperation, I thought of her giving in, being dragged down to my level. These thoughts consumed me.
Cacia’s smile began to fade, as a strange look washed over her face, was she growing impatient? “Because we all convince ourselves of a lie, like you have. There is no point in controlling ourselves, no point in building, our lives last a fraction of a second in the grand scheme of time. We will both die, and nothing we ever did will matter. None of your bullshit will ever compare to the feeling you’d get from just giving in.”
She brought her glass to her mouth slowly, letting the vodka sit for a moment before she swallowed. She set the glass down, lowering her gaze to the floor and staring off blankly. I shifted in my seat waiting for her to break the silence.
I suddenly became aware of how cold it had gotten in the room, glancing over to the fire, it had died down considerably and was barley clinging to life. This realization made me feel strange, alone. Turning back to Cacia nearly caused me to jump out of my chair. She was staring at me intensely, the expression on her face still blank. Unease began to grow in my stomach.
“Are you okay?” I managed to get out in a murmur. Her face softened, as the smile returned to it. “I’m sorry honey I got lost in thought.” She whispered, as she placed her hand on my knee. The warmth from her skin ran up my leg sending my brain into a flurry, the unease fled from my body, being replaced by anticipation.
The alcohol was really starting to hit me now, elevating my excitement. I decided to go ahead and shoot my shot, before wondering about the time. I slid my phone out of my back pocket, let my eyes linger over the digits, blinked, and tried to process what I was seeing. Chills ran over my body as I repeatedly tried to make sense of something I couldn’t understand.
The time read 9:01. The hair on my neck stood on end, as more and more information didn’t seem to line up in my head. How did I even get to this place? Why hadn’t I seen it before? How the hell had I only been here for one minute?
Cacia ran her fingers along the bar in front of her. She looked at me with that blank face from earlier, one devoid of life. I met her eyes again, something was different now, they held a different light. I tried to ask her how long I’d been here, but the words stuck in my throat.
I noticed something else. We were in total silence. No banter to eavesdrop on from the surrounding tables, no feet tapering across the wooden floor. Looking around, the bar was completely empty other than the two of us. When had everyone left? Where had the bartender gone? I felt a familiar sharpness in my skull, signifying a migraine was on its way.
“I’m sorry honey, I got lost in thought.” Cacia said. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The background noise had returned, the banter from a few tables over picked up and the bartender was again scurrying back and forth to fulfill orders. “I gotta run to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” I assured her before climbing off the stool.
My knees almost buckled under my weight, and continued to shake as I regained my balance. “Over there” the bartender instructed pointing to a sign reading “Elysian Pissers”. I made my way to the back and pushed the door of the bathroom. It didn’t budge, I pushed harder, barely managing to swing open the large door.
I fell into the room, immediately vomiting in the sink. I looked up at myself, finding it difficult to believe what I was seeing. My eyes were no longer bloodshot, and the bags had dissipated. The tired, hopeless face from earlier was gone.
I shook my head hard, rubbing my temples to soothe the headache. There was nothing to soothe, the pain from just moments ago was gone. “What the fuck?” The words fell out of my mouth. I began to seriously wonder if I had been drugged, before dismissing the notion, I didn’t feel sick, I felt incredible.
I wanted to rationalize things, to come up with some explanation about whatever the hell had just happened, but my conversation with Cacia forced its way into my thoughts. I wondered what was wrong with me, trying to undermine her hard work so I could sleep with her. It made me feel sick. I decided to call it a night, I’d go back out there, say goodbye and uber home.
I marched up to the hefty door, pushing my full weight into it. The door offered no resistance at all, causing me to stumble back into the bar. I let my eyes scan the room, none of the patrons had seemed to notice my fall, they were all deeply transfixed on their conversations
The walk back to the stool seemed longer this time, my eyes fell on her, alone at the bar again. I thought about how she’d react to me leaving, I’d probably never see her again, never be with her. Apprehension weighed on my movements. “I didn’t think you were coming back!” Cacia said, her voice eased my distress. “Sorry some guy was trying to sell me a timeshare.”
I needed to leave. I looked her in the eyes again, making sure to keep myself this time. “I-” “We should get out of here!”- Cacia interrupted. “I haven’t had a real conversation in longer than you’d believe. You’re different, you understand.” She smiled and leaned close to me, closer than she had been all evening. The smell of her perfume caused a well of desperation to open within me, I needed her. The only thing in the world I needed was her.
“Let’s go to my place!”, she said excitedly. “I mean if you’re gonna twist my arm.” “Hopefully I won’t have too.” she said with a small smirk. Cacia paid for both of our tabs and led me outside. She walked briskly to the driver’s side of a pristine white Kia Seltos, beckoning me onwards with her hand. I opened the door and climbed in.
“Hey, are you good to drive?” “I’m sure we’ll be okay.” She pulled out neglecting to look for oncoming vehicles, laying into the gas. “What were you addicted to again? vehicular manslaughter? Property Damage?” Her only response was laughter as the speedometer sped past ninety.
For the first time in ten years, I put on my seatbelt. “Doesn’t this make you feel like you’re actually alive?” The thumping of my heart filled my ear drums. “I’m not going to hold back anymore” she said, her eyes opened wide, focused hard on the road. “I think you should tone it back a little.”
“Don’t you understand? You were right, about everything.” “You’re the only one who understands.” Her mouth remained slightly agape, and her pale cheeks grew flush. I ran my fingers through my damp hair, shifting uncomfortably in my perspiration. I took a deep breath, shut my eyes tight, and tried to imagine I was anywhere else.
I thought about how close I was to having her alone, how close I was to exploring every inch of her. Slowly but surely creating a fire in my stomach, it raged and roared, growing into an inferno that consumed all other thoughts.
It was extinguished upon opening my eyes. Something was wrong, it was too dark outside. No streetlights, no obnoxious LED headlights in the opposite lane, even the light of the moon was absent. The only bastion against the thick curtain of black were Cacia’s headlights.
I stared at the scenery revealed by the lights, but the glimpses of dirt road and heavy forestation only added to the sense of panic. My city was nowhere near any forests. I wondered how long we’d been driving.
“Hey how far out are we?” I asked, trying to hide the desperation in my voice. She didn’t respond. She didn’t acknowledge I had spoken at all. She had this blank expression on her face, eyes locked on the road. “How far out are we?” “Hey!” “Cacia!”. “What the fuck!” I pushed hard on her shoulder; her body didn’t resist at all. Moving around my force before simply falling back to where it was.
“Say something!” I was yelled, my eyes began to grow hot as tears streamed down my cheeks. I instinctively reached up to wipe them away, but only felt dry skin. “You’re the only one who understands” Cacia said before turning into a parking lot. “You look fucking crazy right now!” she laughed. I told you it was only a few minutes down the street.
My mind was still racing, l wanted to scream. Her wild gaze softened, if only for a moment. She leaned over the center console, placing her mouth against my ear. “I need you.” She turned my face towards her, kissing me.
Her lips were so soft, it took nothing for me to fall into her embrace, nothing for me to calm down. The taste of strawberry erupted over my tongue. The urge to be with her was the urge to breathe. I brought my hand up to her throat, pressing lightly. I could feel her veins throbbing against my fingers as her heart rate quickened.
Suddenly she pulled away, “Let’s go inside” her voice echoed with desperation. “Right behind you”, I frantically unclicked my seatbelt as she was already getting out of the car. The night air biting at my neck did little to pull me out of my daze.
The moon’s light was back now, shining down on Cacia’s frame. It accentuated her every curve and shape; she looked like a goddess. My legs moved on their own as I followed her up flights of stairs. She stayed several feet in front of me, despite my pace being quick. As I topped the stairs, I saw her standing in front of a door. Room 312.
Finally, I was beside her, as her keys flopped violently in her hands, nearly being dropped to the ground. The knob turned, then the door flung open. She turned around, grabbing me by the collar and pulling me in with her.
She pressed herself against me, running her hands up and down my body as her lips found mine once again. She pushed me back, where I landed on a sofa. I began fumbling with my belt as an invasive light filled the room. The sudden brightness caused me to squint.
The brief distraction allowed me to notice something strange, I couldn’t smell anything. The very moment that thought crossed my mind; a strong earthy odor filled my nose. I quickly scanned the room, looking for what could’ve been giving off such a smell. The room was extremely clean, and sparsely decorated. Black and grey furniture paired with darkly colored walls. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the smell vanished. Replaced by the sweet smell of her perfume.
She stood in front of me now, more beautiful than she’d been all night. She placed the palm of her hand on my cheek, sliding her thumb into my mouth. A strong, almost chemical taste assaulted my tongue, making me want to gag. I looked up into her gaze and felt my stomach drop. Her eyes were opened far too wide, wider than should have been possible. Her mouth hung open, with each corner pointed up ever so slightly. A drop of saliva ran down her chin.
Her eyes filled me with a deep, animalistic unease. I stared hard back at her. Her expression made me think of a hawk, watching down over a field mouse. The longer I stared, the harder it became to make out the details of her face. I wanted to speak, to do anything to break the intensity, but my words were stuck in my throat. “Oh Henry, I’m so happy we met each other, I wasted so many years trying to deny what I was.”
I tried to speak again; nothing came out. My heart beat faster. My vision swayed and spiraled, as my legs began to tremble. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t move a muscle.
“I’ve dreamt of a moment like this for longer than you’ve been alive henry, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I’m so glad we found each other when we did, no one else could understand.” Her face was barely registering in my mind now, I was looking at something I couldn’t understand.
She slid her thumb out of my mouth, letting it drag down my chin. She took my hand in her own, singling out my ring finger. I felt the tip of her fingernail underneath mine. I felt her start to wrench upwards. Burning pain shot up my hand as a scream stifled in my throat. She lifted my hand to show me what she’d done.
My fingernail popped upwards, as small trickles of blood dropped onto my pants. She grabbed the loosened nail and began to twist. I watched as the skin surrounding it stretched, turning white and dying, before ripping. Eventually it was only attached by a thin piece of cuticle. The pain was so intense, hot tears poured down my face. She slowly pulled it towards my shoulder, letting it rip off another strand of skin going down my finger.
Finally, the nail was separated from my body. My fingertip ached and throbbed, the very air stinging it. She let my nail drop to the floor, before grabbing my bleeding finger. Dread and nausea overwhelmed me. She began to dig her thumb into my exposed nailbed.
The pain was excruciating, I fought with everything in me to pull my arm away. Cacia began to moan softly, as she positioned her face inches away from mine. “Look at me Henry.” The impossibility of her features strained my eyes until my migraine returned. She ran her tongue up the length of my sweat-soaked forehead, before letting out a long shaky breath.
She raised my shirt and placed the tips of her jagged nails against my abdomen, applying soft pressure. She placed her other hand around my throat, squeezing my windpipe shut. I desperately struggled to get another gasp of air, as the pressure in my abdomen grew. Cacia was breathing hard and muttering to herself as strange shapes took over my vision.
The pressure was unbearable, I could feel my insides move around as they were displaced. Her nails dug in deeper and deeper, until they broke through my skin. She gasped as her hand plunged into my body. I felt her stretching her fingers out as she opened her hand widely. She unclenched my throat.
The sudden reintroduction to oxygen filled me with adrenaline, with misguided hope. The air only allowed me to turn my full focus to the agony in my stomach. She placed her other hand on the top of my head, angling it down, forcing me to watch.
The sight of her hand inside of me was too much, it felt like I was falling. I tried to convince myself it wasn’t real, that it was just a nightmare. “It’s real.” Her voice played inside my head. Her fingers contracted inside of me; she had formed a fist. Blood spurted in all directions as she violently ripped it free.
The shock and agony were too much for me, my vision began to grow dark. She positioned my head upwards again; I could make out some of her features now. Her mouth was opened impossibly wide, she was staring at her other hand, which appeared to be clutching something.
I couldn’t make out what it was, some kind of brownish red lump. Darkness quickly obscured my vision. The sound of wet chewing filled the room. I thought those thoughts of terror would be the last ones I ever had. Then I woke up here.
I looked up at the two men seated at the end of my bed. The one who had been asking questions looked at his partner, then back to me.“Wow, okay pal, we didn’t need to hear so much detail I mean damn.” “Yeah man, we’re cops not therapists.” his partner chimed in “This guy clearly doesn’t have many friends.” They laughed before standing up and high fiving.
“Listen obviously you were drugged, so we are going to run a toxicology report. We’ll head back to the station and see if this fits the MO of any known organ harvesting operations in the surrounding states.” With that, the two men left my room, leaving me alone.
I still haven’t come to terms with what happened, I don’t know if I ever will. I don’t know how I could live a normal life after that. Maybe they’re right, maybe I was drugged. I was drugged and that was all some terrible nightmare.
In my heart, I know that isn’t true, I don’t need the toxicology report to know. I can still feel her, I can almost hear her voice in my head, she’s calling for me. All that’s left for me to do is find her.