Fun With Some Quick Fiction

Everyone has a dream . .  .
The way I see it
there is only one thing between us and our dreams.
That is the beast within.
And everyone has a beast within them

Everyone has that inner monologue
That inner demon
That’s the beast I was telling you about

My beast speaks too
He whispers . .
But I know it’s him,
which is why he changes his dialect.
I swear this is to trick me,
My beast changes the way he speaks,
always disguising himself,
always trying to make me guess myself,
and always looking to maintain my attention
so I won’t look anyplace else.

And sometimes . . .
Sometimes I listen to the crazy laugh of my inner animal.
Every wonder why the devil never dresses himself in anything fancy?

It’s so you never see him coming . . .

There was a feeling inside me that something was about to be wrong. I knew there was something coming my way but I wasn’t sure when or how this would happen.
I had seen arrests on television and heard stories about S.W.A.T. teams but I never saw them up close and personal. I certainly never expected them to come for me.
I didn’t know which way they would come from or what they would do to me. Maybe they would shoot me. Maybe they would want me a live and fill the room with tear gas. Either way, I wasn’t sure what would happen. I just knew that trouble was in the mail and it was addressed to me.

There are times when we can smell the rain in the air and know that a storm is on its way. Snow has a smell too. There are people that can feel the approach of bad weather in their bones. But I think this trick comes with age. And me, I knew there was something coming because I could tell by the interruption of quiet

I heard the sirens approaching from far away. I heard the fast-moving footsteps of uniformed officers running down the hallway outside the apartment door.

Meanwhile . . .
Kim Bolin was tied and bound in the walk-in closer of her bedroom. Her mouth was taped shut and her wrists were in front of her. Her ankles roped together as she lay on her side in a fetal position.
She was beautiful, and naked of course, like a dream to me. She was like a wonderful sexual chaos, which enticed me even more, which is why I wanted to save her, or more accurately, this is why I wanted to savor her, to consumer her, or claim her so that I can keep her with me, every day, for the rest of my life.
Old tears stained down the cheeks of Kim Bolin’s olive skin in black trails of dried mascara. Her hair was tied back to expose her facial features, which were innocent to me.
In all honesty, I have no recollection of the prior events. I had no idea how long I was in the apartment or how long Kim’s Husband, Stephen Bolin, was tied to a chair in a most unusual way.
To me, I see myself as mindless, like a shark in a feeding frenzy. I lose myself in a crazy trance and find myself consumed by my lust for such a violent fantasy.
I become another person. I become someone else and when the frenzy is done, in all honesty, I have no memory of what I had done.

Stephen was naked. Brutalized too. His head was pushed through the backing of the oak straps in the dining room chair. His forearms were tied to the rear legs of the chair and his thighs were tied to the front legs. There was a sock taped and stuffed in Stephen’s mouth to keep him from shouting or whimpering until Stephen was finally extinguished.

In fairness, I am not sure why I chose them to be my target. Maybe it was the poshness of their fancy, prim and proper lifestyle. Maybe it was my desire to be like them, wealthy, and part of the big digit world where money is king, which is where they live, comfortable, and happy in their pretty little palaces.
Maybe I chose them because of their beauty. Maybe this is because I feel as though I am similar to a man who is facially scarred and hateful of all the pretty things in this world.
Then again, maybe this is the problem with compulsion. Maybe there is no reason. Perhaps, this is the problem with the little whispers inside my head. Maybe this is just the beast I was telling you about.

Sometimes, the voice just talks. And it won’t stop. Sometimes, I fall for the trick and take the bait. But once it starts, it’s too late. The compulsion takes control and all I can do is follow along.
Funny though, for all their money and all their pretty little things, I thought an apartment as pricey as this much would be much bigger.

I could hear the sound of them coming to take me away. I knew they were coming for me the moment I heard the sirens.
And that was fine for me.
It was fine because I could finally rest. I could finally stop the voices in my head. I could finally come out and be me without hiding. I could tell them about my ugliness. I could tell them about all the rage that went on inside of my head. Finally, the eds would justify the means.

Kim Bolin awaited her fate. Would I keep her? Would I claim her? Would I consume her the way I planned, which is why I discharged her husband after making him watch me violate him in the mirror.

I heard a knock at the door.
I heard the voices screaming to “Open up in there!”
I knew they were coming for me. I knew it was time to face the beast within. The knocking grew louder.
And then louder.
And then louder still.

I felt something shake me
I felt it again, only this time the shake was more intense.

I could hear them about to break through the door.
But then the shaking took over.
“You never take me alive,” I screamed.
Someone had grabbed me by my shoulders . . .
It was the bus driver. He woke me up to tell me we pulled in at Port Authority.

Man, these dreams are crazy
Unless, maybe, it wasn’t a dream.

You know?


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