Mackenzie Wright (Part 4 of 4)

The bright lights created heat on his face. Opening his eyes carefully so as not to be blinded did little good. Surrounded in darkness with 4 posts in front of him, evenly spaced, and utter blackness beyond. The lights on the post were hot and the warmth in the room seemed to grow steadily. His head hurt with a dullness that begged for the kind of darkness beyond his field of vision. To his right was a brick wall and to the left a number of shelves with books on them. The rigging of lights too bright and too close to him to allow reading the title. But the books were either hard covers or magazines. The magazines were more or less jammed in between the hard covers. Where was he? A basement of course. The cord tying him to the chair far too tight to allow adequate circulation. His forearms are wrapped in it and his legs tied to a chair. The chair was bolted to the floor. His feet naked but the rest of his clothes were still on. He guessed that was a good sign. He'd been thinking of calling the person he felt might be in the blackness watching him in silence but better to get a plan together first. Think of what Eris his kidnapper wanted. Mackenzie was pretty sure he knew, at least in part. Taking in a few deep breaths and gathering up his regret Kenzie prepared to speak.

"Hello?" He waited. The lamps got hotter. His thirst started to take over, nudge in the back of his mind. Stomach grumbled too. Hungry. "Can anyone hear me?" Kenzie licked his lips and yelled out this time. "Hello." Sounding frustrated, out of control...desperate.

"What?" Her voice was strong and sharp. "Eris?" Kenzie said it as if he did not really know it was her. "What have you got to say for yourself?" If she could start this with one word question he could answer that way too, "Sorry." he offered. A five pound weight came sailing out of the darkness and struck him in the chest. Kenzie yelled out in pain. The thick throb that remained made it difficult to breathe deeply. The metal weight clattered to the stone floor. He didn't notice till later it was resting on his right foot, in part. "Holy God, lady." He gasped in air and started speaking again. "You could have killed me." In the blackness Kenzie thought he saw someone move. Seeing beyond the lamps took monumental effort. The lights felts sweltering now and his vision was blurring in and out. "You are a murderer, Mac." The sentence hit him harder than the iron weight. The words were spoken coldly. He remembered the accident...

Driving along blasted out of his mind, speeding and too tired to drive. He'd seen a girl on the road and then something happened. He missed the turn just a little and hit something. He'd been sure it was not a person. No, he was sure because he told himself it was not a person. Talked to his inner voice and even expressed it aloud when alone. But now Mac remembered the scream he heard. It was a woman along the edge of the road and then she simply wasn't in view any longer. Even after he got out and looked back. No one had been around. "I didn't see what I hit." He quested. Flying out of the darkness between two lamps came a shape. His collar bone felt burning hot and his right arm went mostly numb. The weight clattered behind him. This one thrown more forcefully. Tears came to his eyes. A moment later a third projectile slammed into his sternum. Mac began to cough and gag. The pain unreal, like nothing he ever felt. He saw it coming but could do nothing to stop it. Arms jerked to defend but were trapped in cords. He tried to push with his legs to get leverage, break free. Nothing worked. Moats of black filled his vision for nearly a minute. "I'll be back in half an hour." Mackenzie heard footsteps going upward and then a door open and close. The burning lamps kept Mac company. That and his pain.

During the space of what he believed was a half hour the lights wilted his lips and thirst became insistent. The hurting in his chest all but gone but sagging soreness set in. He also really needed to use the bathroom. The door opened and someone walked down stairs. Must be stairs? Mac perked up. "Hey, I need some water, let me go." A metal weapon tumbled out of no place and struck him in the head. The impact on his left cheek made him cry out. He sounded less like a man and more like a wounded child. Two more weights followed. One struck him in the belly and the other sailed past him but not before striking the lamp. The lamp wavered and fell. A cracking and pop was punctuated by hot glass at his feet. "God, listen...please." Blood taste in his mouth. Mac had bitten his lip. He could feel his face swelling. Other parts of his body throbbed too. Eris floated out of darkness and stepped over the ruined rigging. Glass crunched under her shoes as she approached. Just before Mac could say anything Eris slapped him. The sound echoed slightly in the room. His right jowl didn't hurt like the left and had it been his only complaint would be more loud. But just now the slap seemed almost dull compared to his other pains. "Do you even know what you did?" Eris spat the words at him. She was surrounded in a halo of light, still dressed in the clothes from the party. "Answer me." Eris punctuated the command with slap to the other side of his face. Pain welled up inside Mac. He could not keep from crying. Tears rushed down his face, mingling with sweat. He looked in her eyes for any bit of remorse and found none. He breathed quietly and tried to think of a way out of this.

Eris seemed content to let him take his time. Minutes passed. Then without warning she took a scalpel from a back pocket and jammed it into his left shoulder. Mac screamed. Eris withdrew the blade and inserted it slowly into a different area of the shoulder. Mac cried out again and when she took away the blade he began to sob. His head went down to his chest. "No, no, no, stop...please..." He kept saying in between his sobs. Mac tried to get composure but Eris would not allow it. As if seeing him start to regain his senses she punched him in the mouth. His head recoiled and Kenzie's eyes flashed wide. "Are you crazy lady?" Eris stopped a moment caught off guard but his rancor. "I drugged you and your friend, kidnapped you, imprisoned you and I'm torturing you as we speak, so yes." He blinked his eyes at her and tried to form words, say something. "Do you know what you took from me?" She wailed the words as she lifted up the blade and swung it at him. "I should cut you up." Blade dancing in air as Mac reached for something to say. Eris was young and this was all about the accident that early morning. Okay? That meant it was either her child or sister? For the first time Mackenzie realized...'I hit a person on the road and their dead.' "Oh, God." Mackenzie said. Eris stopped and looked into the watery, frightened eyes of her captive. "Oh, God what?" Unceremoniously, "I don't know." Eris' features tightened up and she took him by the shirt and started punching him in the face. He could not get away. Trying to duck his head did little good. Blood splattered his lips as she found new angles to strike him. His right eye nearly swelled shut as he kept taking hits in that area. Finally she stopped. The scalpel in her left hand the entire time had cut small marks in his chin as he tried to avoid punches. Eris gripped her weapon tighter, "Murdering bastard."

Mac broke down in earnest. He sobbed and said in a broken voice as spittle ran down his face and clear snot flowed into his mouth. "I'm sorry, sorry, I'm sorry. Oh God I didn't mean to do it. It was accident, I'm sorry Eris...I didn't mean to kill your sister!" Eris dropped the scalpel and with her left hand slapped Mac as hard an possible. "My sister, what the fuck?" She looked confused for a moment and then added, "My sister, you killed Warden." Mackenzie could only manage, "What?" Eris clarified, "My dog, Warden." Mackenzie suddenly looked up at her, stopped crying and and ire came to his face and voice. "Your dog, all this has been about a fucking dog, you crazy bitch." Eris slapped Mac across the face once more. Mac gritted his teeth then bared them at her. "Go to hell, for a dog, you go to hell." Eris said in a chill voice, "That is exactly what I'm going to do, go to hell for a dog. And so are you. Mac felt mortal fear creep in. He'd been afraid she might hurt him and badly but this was the first time he felt like he might die. "Warden was everything to me...that you screwed around on your friends and treat women like trash is all fine by me. I don't give a shit. If you lie and cheat Tag or your family or anyone in the world. All that means nothing to me. But Warden was my one true friend and I loved him and you took him away from me. You almost hit me that day. I rolled down the hill into the woods and by the time I climbed back up, you were gone and Warden lay dying. He died in my arms." Eris was out of breath by the time she yelled out all she had to say. She started again after taking in a huge breath. "Mac, when you die no one you love will hold you in their arms and watch the light go out of your eyes...it will be just you and me." Mac's eyes went wide and he tried to say something but all he cold think was how she said he was going to die.

Eris stared him in the eyes...fury met fear as she took the scalpel from the floor. She began to slash his chest with it. From left to right and right to left. She switched hands several times as the blade made small cuts in his flesh or deep nicks . Eris was not accurate but surely and slowly Mackenzie Wright was being cut to death. He screamed louder and louder. At first it was words but when she stopped to jam her fist, weapon in hand, into his belly several times it became non-sense sounds and sobbing. Then there was a noise. Men could be heard. "Drop the weapon..." Mac was sure he heard that said. A terribly loud blast went off twice. Blood splattered onto him and he barely noticed. Eris fell at his feet and made a moaning noise. A man in a dark uniform started cutting him loose with a pocket knife as another man drug away the woman then called for an ambulance. "Oh, are you police?" Mac said, exhausted. "Yes, son you are okay now, hang on the paramedics are on the way." The voice was strong and authoritative. It was also the last thing he remembered being said that night.

Two days later in the hospital Mackenzie was told he could go home in another few days. His closest friends had stopped by and he'd ended up with a great deal of flowers and teddy bears from the gals and get well cards from the guys. The doctors told him how lucky he was and how Tag gave him blood. Both men had the same rare blood type and Taggert was listed as a donor and gave blood often. Go figure. It helped to save his life. Of all his friends only Tag visited twice a day for his entire six day stay in the hospital. It seemed Tag really was his best friend. Mackenzie was grateful for Tag and also happy to be alive.

At night when no one was around and the sounds of the hospital goings on were muted and all he had to do was think about Eris and Warden, that he nearly died because he made such bad choices in his life. It made him sick. He'd learned his lesson. Don't take pills and drink and drive. He though about Eris being shot by the officers. She'd been taken to a larger hospital in the city. The last bit of information he got about her condition was Eris fell into a coma during surgery. He had visions of one day repaying that bitch for what she'd done to him. But for now it was just daydreams...he could never touch her inside a hospital. She deserved to have scars and be in pain just like him. Permanent scars on his body pissed him off at first but the Eris story, spun just a bit of course, earned him some pity and some guilt free pussy. Mackenzie also thought about how the neighbor Mr. Fline called the police about screaming and fighting going on. This had saved his life. After Mac got out of the hospital he thanked Mr. Fline personally and told him in his mind he was a hero. Mrs. Fline smiled and said Mr. Fline was a hero too. But when old man Fline was working it was his cock that was the hero in the Fline household on those nights...

The end

Dialogue-5

The morning after the storm Anita spent making calls. Telemarketing work from home could be a blessing but sometimes a depressing drag. Greg tooled around the yard and planted a couple of trees he got from some nursery. Anita never cared to learn about such stuff. The yard looked great all year round and she considered it Greg-domain. She had the kitchen and he had outdoors. Of course lately she had the Study-storage and Drell7. Drell, tonight would be the night. She made plans for ten, about an hour after Greg would leave for work. She promised to wear something sexy even though he could not see it. Tonight they would have sex, technically.

The back door opened signaling Greg would come in get something to eat, watch a little television or walk on his treadmill and then hit the bed. She willingly banished herself to the kitchen. This had become their life. Pretending to not ignore one another but doing so as much as possible. How did this ever happen? Anita pulled some carrots out of the pack and started snapping them apart. The snack was healthy for a change. What to wear tonight? The laced underwear, the stark white ones Greg got her about six years ago would fit the bill. They made her hips look slimmer. Yes. Anita snapped off more carrot and chewed it. Wow, she was actually excited.

Greg walked into the kitchen. This would be a momentary intrusion as was customary. "Hey, lets go out to eat at the steakhouse." She swallowed the carrot, "What?" and stood up. The island between them a symbol of emotional distance. Anita looked back at the double sink, no dishes to do. "Well, I guess." Greg looked at her strangely. "Do you want to go or not, cause I am really tired..." The rest of the sentence would never be spoken because it was made up like his invitation. It wasn't real. Perhaps a reflex from times when they were close? He hadn't really meant to invite her out to eat a romantic dinner. Romantic? Did he say romantic? Anita had reflexes too. Her husband walked into the mocha kitchen and gave her a kiss on the head then he turned away. With back to her he offered, "We'll go Sunday, I have the day off then, okay?" Anita shook her head and sat back down. "Sure, that sounds wonderful." She called after him. The bedroom door closed leaving Anita to her thoughts. Drell...

Greg took off all his clothes except the red boxers and from the nightstand got the clippers, cut his toe nails. Then he climbed into bed under the rich umber covers. The bedroom was cool just the way he liked it. Things were working out for them slowly. He was getting over how he felt, the resentment and feeling of abandonment. Not too much longer. The therapy was working. If Anita knew she would think their marriage was over. Best to handle this problem on his own. Sunday. Sunday was only four days away. But he would not be ready then, almost. Trying to drift to sleep with weighty thoughts got easier and easier. He had lots of heavy thoughts and one by one during his therapy he cast them off. It'd gone surprisingly well. Through the door he heard the phone ring. Anita answered. After a few moments he did not hear his name so Greg turned on his back and slowly drifted to sleep.

"I don't know if I can do movie night again so soon."

"I need a night out, Walter just ended it."

"What? Why, what happened? You guys have been going out for six months, right?"

"Yes, but he told me I was too inattentive to him. That I wasn't jealous enough. What the hell does that mean Anita?"

"I don't know. Okay, come over tonight about eleven."

"What, why so late?"

"Me and Greg are actually doing something, sorry."

"Oh, then I understand totally...I do. I'll see you at eleven. I'll walk over cause by then I don't trust myself to drive eight blocks."

"Don't drink too much because I'm too old to play that much catch-up."

Her friend laughed. The conversation ended with the normal good-bye's. Anita returned to her kitchen. Safety. Drell seemed so much more safe than a real relationship. Back to the carrots and the stool by the island. How was it that things kept intruding on her not real relationship time? Perhaps this was more like a real relationship than first deemed. How to fill the time between now and Drell?

To be continued...

Horror at Blackstone(Part 2 of 3)

Twilight. Nathan took the phone. "That isn't good." Mia said nothing. Darkness seemed to grow deeper around them. Mia felt suddenly exposed but more than that she was getting upset and it showed. Snatching the phone from Nathan she dialed in again and listened. The phone was barely audible. It rang as Mia walked toward the woods to her right. Voicemail. Mia hung up and dialed again. Nathan followed behind reluctantly. The sound was getting louder. They would have to go into the woods to find the phone. Closing the cell she walked straight to the edge of the woods and stopped. Nathan was a full ten paces behind. "Okay." She huffed and dialed in again. The phone rang pretty clearly this time. Mia darted into the woods even as Nathan silently waved for her not to do it. Under a leaf was the cell. Mia answered it. "Does it have blood on it?" Even in the dark of woods Nathan could see Mia's expression. "So, no blood." Rubbing through his hair Nathan motioned for her to come to the edge of the woods. Mia did so and once beside Nathan she handed him the phone. "What the hell is going on here?"

Mia headed for the house. Determined steps moved her quickly to the front door even as she called the police. "Police department, this is Peggy." She looked at the phone for a moment in disbelief. "Peggy you can send the police to Blackstone. I just found a missing cell phone that goes to a missing person and I'm about to enter Blackstone proper, so hurry up you hear." With that Mia clicked off the phone and gave it to Nathan. "What are you doing girl?" As if to answer she moved into the house. It was too simple. A large front room, that weird rectangular kitchen and a small hall that lead to a study that lead to a bed room. The bedroom was small with only one bed. Mia moved through the house like she owned it. Owned it and intruders were afoot, ones she had no idea where they were. She made her way back to the large front room. Nathan still stood in the doorway framed by the night. "Wait, something is wrong...but what is it?" Her friend was no help. Mia looked suddenly scared as she motioned to Nathan. "Close the door, hurry get in here..." Quickly he closed the door expecting to see someone behind him intent on harming them. He turned the lock. "What, what was it?" The place was not that brightly lit but they could see well enough. Mia closed in till she was uncomfortably close. "This house is not on the market." Nathan perplexed gave her the huh-what stare. "When you first called me that Michelle was missing and did not know the address I got impatient and tried to look it up in the paper." Nathan just kept looking at her awaiting the eureka moment. She huffed. "Nathan, it is not advertised in the paper and if the land lady gave you the keys what keys did Michelle use to get into the house?" Nathan did not look convinced of anything. "Maybe there are only one set Mia." She shook her head to signal Nathan incorrect. "No, because you had to have the keys to get in and look around and if the land lady had the keys that would mean she got them from Michelle one way or another. You said you had a hard time getting the keys from her." Mia completed her words but paused internally. Internal monologue began as she turned away from Nathan and moved to the fireplace. 'Fine, if Nathan has the keys and only one set does exist then the land lady knows something...unless Nathan never got the keys from the land lady. But why involve me if he made Michelle disappear?'

Mia pulled the poker from the fireplace and used it like a sword. "Don't come any closer buddy." Nathan sputtered non-sense and stepped back. "I had nothing to do with Michelle going missing, is that what you think?"
"I never said that, but now that you do say that...I can say that I think that would be a good thing for you to explain, that. Go." For several tense moments not a sound was made. Mia pointed the poker and Nathan stood across from her arms out, pleadingly. A shrill scream could be heard close to the house. It was a woman, not Michelle, screaming for help. Mia moved to the door but Nathan grabbed her. Stunned she let down her guard and looked into Nathan's eyes. "Don't open the door Mia." The woman's voice grew closer as she screamed unintelligible things. Someone hit the door hard, pounding it. "Let me in, it'll kill me, hurry." Nathan held Mia as she tried to escape his grasp. Just before she could manage to get free the woman wailed in terror. Both of them stopped moving as something heavy hit the door. Sounds of a struggle beyond the door ended quickly enough. "I heard growling." Nathan shook his head, "No Mia." and let go his hold. "What do you mean no Mia..." Her complaint trailed off as she realized his words were a plea because now she saw what Nathan saw, blood slowly pooling under the door.

For the space of nearly fifteen minutes they did not speak. Mia kept trying to get signal in the house but could not. The place did not have a phone so all they could do was wait for the police. Several times they thought they heard movement outside. But it was impossible to see outside the house. The narrow windows were only in the front and they were marked with strange silver swirls and "symbols" of many different kinds. A back door didn't even provide exit. One way in and one way out. The blood slowly pooled onto the tile and moved out in an irregular blob. Nathan could barley bring himself to look at it. Mia went into the kitchen. Nathan walked in where she was and in a taunting voice said, "Well, since you are all about rushing in where angels fear to tread and question this and question that, right? Did you happen to wonder why this place has no bathroom?" It was then that the front door could be heard opening. "Hello?" Neither Mia or Nathan said anything. The voice was deep and not altogether pleasant. 'Who is that?' Mouthed Mia. Nathan shook his head but stayed still otherwise. "Hello?"

End Part 2.

Dialogue-4

The rain poured down from swollen clouds. A chill wind blew through the woods and distant thunder rumbled from time to time. Erica looked small and fragile as long brown hair stuck to her body. Her red dress was muddy and the sleeve was torn where he'd grabbed her. The dress tearing finally as she slid down the embankment. The rain made her slippery and the dress tearing as she railed against her attacker gave her the chance to escape. He'd seemed so nice when first she met him but anticipation tuned to terror quickly enough.

Erica was a small plain woman with a light tan. She'd always been ten or so pounds under weight and many of her friends commented on how tiny she was. How could she have made the decision to meet a strange man at a cabin in the woods? Why did he want to kill her? None of that mattered right now because Erica needed to make a choice: Left or right?

In a flash she decided. Pushing off from a twisted oak she ran right. She was sure that would lead her to the road. In either direction she knew that houses were not too far. Help was only a few miles away. She had no proof she'd not already lost her attacker and none he wasn't close. Keeping on running seemed the best choice. The rain was letting up and the thunder subsiding but the wind worsened. Erica's body shook with cold as she tried to navigate the uneven flooring. Her shoes long gone and stockings torn to shreds by underbrush were the least of her problems because Erica also lost her purse and with it the inhaler. Already wheezing while climbing a third hill Erica began to pray the road was close. What if she chose wrong? Deeper into woods might be her undoing if breathing didn't improve. One final hill, at least that is what she told herself, Erica.

Muscles shaking and teeth chattering she arrived at the top of the hill. From that vantage point even in darkness she could tell the woods ended...a field across the road. It wasn't far to go. In less than a minute Erica managed to stumble to the road. Looking left and right trying to remember the way to town. What did it matter since houses dotted both directions. She chose left. But her legs like lead and breathing more and more shallow made for difficult going. After a few minutes she fell to the ground. Intending to sit turned into a flop as Erica collapsed in the road. Her chest being crushed by a vice as ribs felt banded in iron brought fear of dying. Erica turned over, now almost in the center of the road, on her belly and tried sucking in air that way. Did not work. 'Concentrate Erica'...

Anita looked out at the subsiding storm and thought about how movie night had gone pretty well. She'd had a bit too much to drink but so what. When her husband finally got home and crawled into bed with her she curled up to him and his warmth. He let it happen. Good. But now she was alone again and the short cuddling session felt more dreamlike than reality. The phone rang several times before the protest was too much. Anita answered.

"Hey honey, I just thought I'd call to check on you."

"Okay." Anita twirled the cord around her finger as she walked back to the island of the kitchen and away from the big window behind her. Dishes were still soaking in the sink. Anita found it hard to think of another single word to say to her husband.

"I know I've been working lot a hours but I've had so much to take care of..." His voice trailed off and the dead air became evident.

"Are you coming home soon?"

"In a couple hours, I've a few things to wrap up, I will be."

"Okay, I'm fine. The storm was not as bad as predicted." Anita turned to look out the window but it was the pile of dishes that drew her attention. "I have some work to do dear I need to get going." More silence.

"Okay, see you soon."

She hung up the phone and sighed. Tonight she was totally alone and feeling it too. No Drell tonight...no one at all. Wondering into the study she checked one last time. No Drell.

Drell7: Hello, you still around?

Kitegrl: Sure am, where were you?

Drell7: Had to do some errands. Storm held me up.

Kitegrl: Fine, no big. Lets talk.

Drell7: I'm pretty tired. I signed on only to say hello. I really will have to go in a few minutes.

A few minutes was sure better than nothing. Anita looked at her watch and typed a response.

Kitegrl: I've got dishes to do, so that works out fine.

To be continued...

Mackenzie Wright(Part 3 of 4)

Mackenzie wondered around and Tag was following behind. Then suddenly in the hallway Tag was gone. The people coming out of the bedroom looked wasted. All four of them knew him but had no idea who the hell he was just now. Ron didn't even have on a shirt and his pants were undone. The ladies dressed a little better but the girl behind them held her and her friends bra. Where was Tag? The techno music loud as hell didn't help the headache. Kenzie headed back toward the main crowd in the living room. And sure enough he found Tag. A girl had him pushed against a corner and she was all up on him. She reached down and squeezed him between the legs to feel his manhood. Kenzie watched as the small bulge in his pants got larger. The woman rubbed Tag and kissed him. From behind she was something to behold. A hot little ass with something near hourglass figure. Her hair long and straight and raven dark. Time to check this out. Kenzie walked straight up to them. "Tag, who's this?" The woman responded. Her face was delicate and her deep blue eyes intense. "I'm Eris." The voice erotic and precise. Almost like she practiced saying her name like that. It made Knezie want her. But more than that he needed to take her away from Tag. They were almost the same height and her legs looked like they stretched on forever. Her tight jeans and black t-shirt were simple enough but the way she smelled more complex. Strawberries and honey and some kind of womanly powder smell. Kenzie took another look at her hand. Long sexy fingers, nails deep red, were wrapped around the wide short bulge in tags pants. She looked up at Mackenzie sheepishly as Tag kissed her neck. "Want some?" All he could manage was to take a slight step backward and widen his eyes. This woman, who was she, from out of nowhere drawing him in. "I want some." Taggert muttered it as his arms wrapped around her. "I think I can handle you both." Precise and erotic again. Eris lead them into the bedroom that was recently vacated. Tag swayed as she yanked him by the belt. His smile was slow and his face slack. Tag looked more a sleepwalker than anything else. This woman had him by the balls and in a minute that might be literal.

Kenzie followed her into the room. A lamp lit the green quilted bed. All the covers in a bunch. Eris pulled off Tag's shirt and revealed his heavy looking chest muscles and hard abdomen. Next came his belt. Eris pushed Tag onto the bed. He fell like a tree being cut down. She took off his shoes and socks then looked back at Kenzie. "What do they call you?" Having lost some of his bravado he said, "Kenzie...Mackenzie Wright." He felt instantly stupid. Usually the woman was paying attention to him and not Tag or Maurice. "Can I call you Mac?" In the semi-darkness she unbuttoned Tag's pants and pulled them away. Tag just lay on the bed smiling and looking drunker all the time. "No, I don't like Mac." Eris retorted with her erotic tone once more, "Mac and cheese is good...you be Mac and I'll be cheese." It was so corny and stupid but coming out of her mouth and from that body it was sexy as hell. Eris rose up and moved quickly to Kenzie. She kissed him. Tasting the sweetness of her made his body respond.

Eris smiled at the shape in his pants. Then she put a finger to her lips and darted out of the room. "Where did she go?" Tag slurred his words and sat up on the bed. At a loss for words and trying not to stare at the thickness jutting out and stretching the fabric of Tag's boxers Kenzie offered, "I' don't know...she'll be back." Tag just sat there and breathed slowly with his head down. "I hope so." Tags sentiment mirrored what Kenzie was thinking now. He hoped so too. He wanted to leave but he wanted to screw Eris more. As if on cue Eris returned. She held three drinks. Kenzie took one and the sex kitten got on her knees to give Tag his. He drank it down quickly as Eris rubbed his thighs and kissed his chest. Eris motioned to Kenzie. "Come on Mac." He shook his head no. "What is wrong, you don't have to touch him just get close enough for me to handle you both. Tag stood up and turned his back to Mac and then the boxers came off. "Suck me." Eris made no motion to do so but wasn't the least surprised either. She stood and put her arms around Tag. The two embraced as Kenzie watched. Eris looked over the shoulder of her thrall whispering, "I wanna fuck you." Kenzie smiled as she motioned him to her. A moment later Tag sat on the bed and fell over. Eris stepped in front to spare Kenzie full frontal nudity. Thank God. The woman embraced him. "Your hot like me and you don't smell like dog. Plus I love taller guys." She put her arms around him as he finished the last of his drink. "I don't want to be interrupted so lets go to my place. We can be all alone and I'll lick every part of you and you can lick me too." Eris then added, "If I can call you Mac." He smiled. "You call me Mac if you want babe."

The two left a naked Tag in the room. Leaving the party was a blur. By the time Mac got to the car all he could tell was that it was sleek and black. He got in and Eris drove them away. The last thing he really remembered was heading away from town and into the country.

End part 3

Boxed In(Part 1 of 2)

Another day, another dollar. Money was good. The job was not. Mark was here. Mark Kessleman, reasonably athletic sat behind a desk. His short auburn hair matched his ruggedly handsome face. His deep green eyes were expressive most of the time but not right now. Right now Mark was engaged in concentrating on a love interest. Whenever this happened he'd get this far off look. In fact Maggie from packaging told him he looked like he was conceiving some great epic in his head. Maggie wished she had that sort of intensity. Wasn't that what she said yesterday? "I wish I had that sort of intensity." Mark pushed the words passed his lips. They moved beyond hearing soon after, barely spoken. Mark thought it this time. 'I wish I had that sort of intensity.' He threw his pencil down on the sprawling desk. "I don't." Mark was talking to himself again. Of course no one around to hear so what did it matter? He began to type in the little boxes again. This order was nearly done. All Mark had to do all day was fill out order requests at the box company he worked at or write out paper work. That was all. The rest of the time, this time comprised hours, all he had to do was sit and think or read. He was allowed to bring books to work but Mark could not manage to read much of anything lately without thinking about his problem. The lunch bell rang for break. Mark decided to eat in the cafe' today. He did not want the bagged lunch of Apple and pork and beans.

Mark looked at his watch. Only thirty minutes gone since his return from lunch. Sitting in the blue chair he reclined. His work was done but the shift would not end for more than two hours. It gave him plenty of time to think. He'd entertained the idea once or twice. But that was months ago. Now it was no longer entertainment. He wanted it. Wanted it to happen. Soon it would be a need. Need. Yes, Mark had focused on it and altered it and changed it and thought on it and in truth become totally fascinated by his problem. Of course it was not a problem except in his own mind. But if he acted on it then it would be a real world problem. Was he willing to face those consequences? Maybe? He needed to take a step back and consider if all this could be repressed. He knew the answer...it was no.

Mark got up and locked the door to his office. The little cube on the second floor was totally closed off. No windows. He sat down in his chair again and began to go to that special place in his head where he was most happy. He tried to imagine it differently every time and so far he'd been able to do just that...

The light in the room was low. It was just the two of them. Mark would take his lover by the hand. The heat would make him happy. He could feel the compassion in the hand as he touched it. Warm compassion but also strength. He'd draw him near and whisper into his ear. "I love you." Bryan would pull back shocked and take away his hand...

Well, Mark shook off the failed daydream, that sucked. Mark had a problem sometimes imagining the two of them together. The reasons this happened was because Bryan thought that Mark was in love, or really liked, someone else. That was a lie. Bryan also had a girlfriend. And finally and most important, in a way, was that Mark had not told Bryan how he felt. His friend did not know the real Mark. He'd toyed with telling him many times so far. Just tell him and it will all be in the open. The fantasies were one thing but he actually wanted it now. He and Bryan had known one another for some time and Bryan had not a clue how Mark really felt.
Mark had hung out at a few gay bars early on but found that most people liked skinny, cute and uncomplicated guys. Not Mark. The bars were not his thing and the idea of going got old quick. His ideal guy was different, it was Bryan.

Bryan was unconventionally handsome. Heavyset, sure with a bit of a rough and tumble exterior, but he carried it well. His beard was full too and made him all the more manly to Mark. And Mark liked manly rather than boyish. Often he noticed Bryan's hands and how they appeared somewhat delicate. He so wanted to be rubbed by those strong and smooth hands. Mark thinking of the heat of those hands on him made it uncomfortable to sit still in his office. He was nearly erect now. He began to imagine the washed out eyes and the quizzical looks that Bryan often shot him. How Bryan stood, often, with his feet wide apart and how he chuckled when he laughed. The laughter was kind of boyish but in truth it reflected a playfulness in him that Mark loved. Maybe he better stop? After all he'd gotten so excited once before he ended up with a wet spot on his clothes. He "dreamed" about Bryan for more than an hour that day and the fluids simply leaked through. Lucky to have worn a long shirt that day.

Trying to focus on something else was not easy. He'd given it lots of thought and the best thing to do, girlfriend or not, where Bryan was concerned was to tell him the truth. After all his live-in girlfriend often left Bryan and Mark alone and she did not seem too attentive to their time together. Several times while joking Bryan had said things that made it clear he knew the truth. Bryan knew and awaited only a cue from Mark to begin the affair. But then his Friend would turn right around a shut him down with some other statement or situation that made it clear he did not know or understand the gravity of feelings Mark held. All that would end today. Mark would tell Bryan how he was feeling. How he wanted to press his lips to his and feel the warmth of them. How he longed to feel their tongues touch. The mere thought of it brought anxiety and warmth. He really did love him and today he would tell him so. It was going to happen. Right?

Finally the shift ended. Mark took off quickly to the parking lot. The car sped him home. Bryan lived about ten miles from him and traveling to Bryan's would have been closer from work but Mark needed a shower first. Once home he stripped down and started the water. His penis was still hard. He took the soap in his hand and began to shower. Nagging him was visions of Bryan. How would his friend respond. In the act of washing the erection disappeared. But the feelings did not...they never went away. Mark dressed and put on some cologne. He took a deep breath and headed out the door.

The drive went faster than usual. He was both excited and worried and in no time was at the house. The girlfriend would working right now and Bryan's car was in the drive. Mark got out of the car, sweating just a little, and headed to the door. Each step up to the porch made each other step easier. Now in front of the door...behind the door the object of his affections. Mark took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. A shock went through him as he realized he could not turn back now. Bryan opened the door. "Hey, buddy come on in."

To be continued...

ToppleDane 2 1 0 1

Roster: Heavymetal. Lady Midnight. Painter. Switchblade. Coldblooded. ToppleDane.

ToppleDane looked at the roster for the mission and realized that Admiral Halman had put the original team back together from Trefelgah. Okay? Some while ago they started calling each other by their stage names. It made things more exciting. They were an elite unit to be sure. Each one got their name from a real world something or another. ToppleDane got his from an Aussie that told the story about him toppling down a mountain and somehow it ended up ToppleDane. Dane was his last name. He'd barely survived that too. But that was Trefelgah and six years ago. A time when they could have contained the entire mess had they just nuked the area. Leave it to the United Nations to muck that up too. Today they were at a remote facility in Wisconsin. Base camp was four armored vehicles the size of a double wide on wheels.

ToppleDane knew what needed to be done. Within the abandoned complex, abandoned by humans, was something called Icormengillium. This stuff could prevent additional mutations. Problem was the personnel at the complex were over run and killed. The icormengillium was just sitting and waiting to be used. This stuff also had a nasty habit of killing the daylights out of the horrors that had come from the WMD set off my Iran. The stuff became known as the purple gas. It infected cats and dogs and animals related to them as well. About ninety percent of the wolf population was really no longer wolves. Instead they were semi-bipedal monsters with gnashing teeth, deadly claws and a thirst for blood. Right out of a horror movie. Plus they seemed to breed quicker too. Luckily rabbits had not been altered by the gas. Humans were fine too. ToppleDane understood how hard this would be. Scans showed them outnumbered fifty to one. Of course that was just a good estimate.

ToppleDane was a tall man with a deep tan and huge bulging muscles. Of course he was not as big as Heavymetal. Topple sported short blond hair and clear blue eyes. After a moments thought he moved out of the tent that was a scant hundred yards from the fence line of the small complex. Outside was the rest of his team.

Lady Midnight was dress all in black and her raven hair fell long and silky over her shoulders. Her hour glass figure was decked out with several handguns and a couple grenades for accent. Her violet eyes were a product of nano-tech. Infra red.

Heavymetal stood almost seven feet tall. His skin was black and his arms, legs and chest were massive. His eyes were deep brown and he sported no shirt but did wear chest armor. He stood behind Lady Midnight making her look more like a girl than the woman she was.

Painter was thin and sleek. He was decked out in green and had numerous laser sights attatched to his guns and could easily coordinate air strikes with the technology strapped to him. His reflex times was only slightly behind Coldblooded. Their speed and accuracy was envied by everyone that knew them and feared by those that they were sent after. Painter had an irish accent and always looked a little too thin.

Switchblade carried over fourteen knives on him at all times. He was neither tall nor short and altogether average.

Coldblooded was thin and strong like Painter but with a bit more heft to him. His eyes were dead cool and the color of his eyes were as washed out as his soul. Spiked short black hair made his untanned face even more stark to look at. The fastest fellow ever to be recorded by the neuro-machine.

"Okay, only Coldblooded and Painter are going in on this mission."

Everyone else looked totally shocked. But they said nothing. They waited. "We need the element of speed and lightning beatdown. Plus we only need one canister of the Icor to make loads more. Reto-engineering should not be too hard. Okay, guys take off."

Coldblooded snatched up two Hellmare 440 nanosmart machine guns from the weapons table and took off running toward the fence perimeter. Painter cursed and headed after him. As Coldblooded moved between the trees of Wisconsin, already out of sight, a tech operative shouted, "They have not been tested."

Coldblooded reached the fence and put up his Hellmare weapons and drew two Paleblade hand pistols. Painter arrived a moment later holding a vibro-pistol, a sonic weapon, and sporting the new force shield glove. The glove had not worked so well in testing. Of the three prototypes Painter had the only one that was not trashed. What the government didn't know. ToppleDane and the group knew he saved the force glove from trash. That was all that mattered.

In the gulf between the fence and the small three room compound were about forty or so monsters. They were breeding, some, and others were chasing a big cat. Looked to be a mountain lion. One of the blacker "wolves", the biggest, with muscles and a torso more like a man took down the lion. After moment of caterwauling and blood flying the cat was dead and the monsters were eating. More packed near the kill. Now was the time to move in.

Painter took point and scaled the fence quick like a bunny. Coldblooded just managed to be on the other side. Painter hated how that happened. Every damned time he never saw the boy climb a fence or do other things to cross barriers. He knew Cold did...just never saw it happen.

The two men raced along the ground managing to get more than half way to building Alpha-2 before three of the monsters saw them. They were each the size of a pony and and all three bounded after them. Painter thought of his girlfriend Elise as the monster roared, all teeth and hatred, and signaled others to attack the intruders. Coldblooded thought of death and then he leaped into the air, held out both guns, and fired away. The bladed bullets split into five parts just after release. In a tight formation the blades churned up carnage. The first monster was struck in the chest and neck. Its black blood exploding outward. The creature spun in agony and slammed down on its right side, skidding to a halt. Coldblooded was in the air, in hang time, with his weapons pointing to the ground and his feet toward the bowl of the sky. Painter took a knee and fired both sonic pistols. He aimed low. The running beasts one was once a cat were struck as ripples of sonic force threw them to the ground. The dirt and grass churned up in the wake of the blasts. Coldblooded landed, hit the ground hard but still standing. behind him the creature he palebladed and in front of him the beasts knocked down by Painter. Painter was up and to Cold just before he blasted the downed creatures to finish them off. They broke apart easy enough.

With a pale smile Coldblooded said, "Look." Behind them were more than forty monsters. Both men began to run. They fired as they ran. Painter opened the door and easy enough there was the Icor chambers in the center of the room. The monsters started smashing through Windows and crawling through ducts to get at them. As the creatures came in Coldblooded and Painter spun dodged and blasted their way with one gun or another. It was like a ballet of death. As one gun became empty another was pulled. The sonic guns were half out of power and one beast had managed to disarm Paint of one pistol. It got to bite the other, scrambled brains. Finally the men were out of ammunition except for the Hellmare weapons and a small conventional hand pistol of Painters. More of a back-up than anything.

Coldblooded turned to Painter and said, "We got them all." As an answer the beast that took down the lion entered by bursting down the rear door. In came a flood of monsters behind it. The only way for Coldblooded to survive was to fire the Hellmare weapons. Problem was, Painter was in the way. Cold drew the weapons as Painter spun and created a 2 foot square force shield from his palm. "Don't shoot." Painter fired his last round into the charging "wolf" but it paid the attack no mind. Swarms of them came at him as Cold opened fire. The bullets chewed them up. Cold waved the guns back and forth as they spit untold bullets at tremendous velocity. Blood and gore rained down on Painter. As the huge alpha beast leaped on him, its teeth smashing against the yellow shield but its arms grabbing his shoulders. Wicked claws cut into him and bullets danced all around. The beast fought with him a moment and then ripped away the hand shield. The Hellmare weapons were empty and smoking and even Coldblooded would not be able to reach his friend in time. The monster opened an elongated snout filled with two rows of razor teeth, its jaw disjointed like a snake. Painter screamed. The beast jerked, once then twice, three, four and five time. Each time seeming more perplexed than the last. The thing that straddled him was at odds about eating him? Or was having some kind of duh moment? The beast fell on him, dead. Coldblooded ran over as Painter looked over the shoulder of the black misshapen monster. Five blades of various design protruded from the back of the beast. Switchblade never obeyed orders.

Later back at base camp Painter was telling the story about the Hellmare smart weapons and how they don't target people that register as human. The weapon suppresses and then starts up again the second the bullets can't hit human flesh. About the third time he told the story, leaving out Switchblade, a tech guy came over and explained that three percent of the time the weapons misread and will still hit any target. Once hearing this Painter went to go find Coldblooded and ask him a thing or two...

The end.