Thursday, January 22, 2009

This Is Like the Brown Water After a Hydrant Flush

Bear with me, I realize this is neither exceptionally intriguing nor particularly skilled work here. I'm just trying to do the old "pump and dump" with my brain, although instead of liquor from breast milk, it's dead baby from imaginative cogs, but still...it's the same basic principal. This goes nowhere and tells nothing, but it's my way of straining the lumps out of whatever creative juices I may have sloshing around in my head.

My thanks to Mr. Heinous St. James for the prompt (the first italicised paragraph)((yes, please blame him for this entire post)). I know it's painful to read, but this is better than nothing. Right? Anybody?


***


Jim: Jonesy was bored. Really fucking bored. He made an anagram of it: RFB. The body at his feet twitched. He nudged it with his foot. Nothing. Boredom washed back over him.

***


His neck itched, but he didn't bother reaching up to scratch at it. He was wearing a turtleneck, so it was inevitable that his neck would itch. It felt like he was being strangled, in fact. Whoever it was that decided turtlenecks were a good idea should be shot, he thought.

That reminded him of the girl on the floor, and he kicked her body again, just for shits. She moved, but only from the impact of his boot in her ribs. So very boring.

This part was always the biggest let down. He should be taking pleasure in a job well done, but instead he was sitting here wishing he’d saved her just a little bit longer. His erection was long gone, and now he was RFB.

Jonesy was like a cat: he liked to play with his toys while they still lived, liked to chase and torment them and see the fear in their eyes. Once they were dead, it was like the batteries had been removed from the toy, and they ceased to amuse him.

That's why he had to keep doing this over and over again; it was entirely out of his hands. He got no lasting pleasure from this dead girl, or any of those before her. There was no thrill for him in the finality of her death; it was her suffering that turned him on.

He wished he could keep just one girl forever, suspended in that razor thin place, always on the brink of death but never falling over its edge.

What Jonesy wanted was a modern-day Frankenstein, a girl who could be endlessly tormented.

What he had was this pile of dead girl.

He tried to focus, like he learned in yoga. He stared down at the girl's hand and really concentrated on remembering the details: the chipped, red polish; the milky skin, faintly blue now; the cut that ran from the tip of her middle finger down to where her thumb branched off; the stump where her pinkie had been. But nothing about these details of her hand excited him. There was no life here. His toy was dead.


He kicked her again, this time in the throat, before standing.

Time for dinner, he thought. He was hungry: RFH. Yes, he was definitely in the mood for some meatloaf.

24 comments:

  1. well, now I understand the title of your blog a little better.

    Nice brain flush. Disturbing and morbid, yes, but entertaining none the less.

    So do I get a prize for being first? I am easy to please, blow me some kisses and I am good to go...

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  2. The mind of killers fascinate me, I think you captured the immaturity of the way they view their victims as just another toy to play with. Good writing.

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  3. Wow! That was disturbing yet captivating. Well done!

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  4. Fantastic! I like it a lot, but that's how my little mind works. I think there's a story in there.

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  5. You're spooky. =:O

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  6. I haven't had my first mug of tea yet, jay-zus I was not ready for that!

    Wherever you end up taking that storyline, keep the bit about yoga class. A great, jarring bit of info because you don't expect a psychopath killer/rapist(?) to be into the "calming center" type mindset.

    I put a question mark after rapist, because 'rapist' is implied by the descriptions, but not confirmed..yet. Of course, not being a rapist but noting 'his erection was long gone', well, that has some disturbing implications all by itself.

    Did I mention I haven't had my tea yet? Yikes, I need to get some Braino*....

    *http://irishgumbo.blogspot.com/2008/11/braino-non-caustic-brain-cleaner.html

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  7. RFB- I like that.

    And, sadly,
    I loved this.

    Disturbingly, you could write the next part every Thursday and I'd be glued to my seat, waiting anxiously.

    Yap. I'm scary.

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  8. I'm feeling a bit more disturbed than normal.

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  9. I'm hooked. I want to read the whole book. Finish writing, get published, come out in paperback, ok, ok, I'll get the hardback from the library.

    I'm not an expert but I play one on TV, but that was good fiction (god, I hope its fiction and not some sicko game you play with Gray).

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  10. That's frickin' wild! Some very disturbing stuff. Great writing!

    IB

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  11. Oooh, nice. Just my kind of thing (I like disturbing writing - it's so much harder to pull off than people might think)

    Hugs
    Anna xxx

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  12. I guess I will have to go back to my old stand by when I am too overwhelmed to figure out what I want to say.
    Literary Crack.

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  13. RFG

    Really fuckin good.

    I liked it, the meatloaf part was awesome. I love meatloaf.

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  14. Meatloaf I wrote about meatloaf today how strange.....

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  15. And by 'wow' I mean, you are an awesome writer! Definitely gifted.
    I loved the story!

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  16. Wow. Creepy. And very believable. Were you a serial killer in a previous life?

    The details and the descriptions are great. If this was the first chapter, I would keep reading.

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  17. I second "disturbing yet captivating" - nicely written! Sick, but nicely written ;)

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  18. Yeah, my sister doesn't floss
    and then gets upset about cavities.
    I know what you are saying.

    And I am totally a floss addict now. I also have it at home, work, purse, etc.

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  19. It's amazing what can be lurking around in your head! Very creative, very creepy. Sucked me right in!

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  20. Are you Charles Manson's love child? No? Never mind...

    Actually, your writing was graphic and captivating. I would read more if it were available.

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  21. Dammit, I should be in bed by now. Now I feel like writing some more. Cat, my grisly muse.

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You.Yeah, you. Speak the fuck up.