M: Rated M for explicit sexual and violent themes. This will be chaotic and dark, and if you do not like exploring strange and unusual themes then don't read, simple as that, but you will be missing out on a good plot. This will explore man/woman, man/man, woman/woman, man/body, man/monster, woman/monster, monster/monster, and everything in between. Like "Moose Stuff"(Moose: "Well, I can sex with ya, or I can go over and drink from that lake. And everything in between." Driver: "Get in."). Murder, gore in explicite detail and of course derranged thoughts of those who experience all of this. But of course, through all of this it's really a dark love story and the choice the character will eventually have to make.
Aaron Bossick is a young Photographer that has recently moved into a new apartment with his girlfriend. After a strange turn of events, he finds himself walking the path to self discovery, as well as outer discovery of the fates of others, and through his camera lense he will find his destiny in his hometown (three guesses where that is).
§-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-§
Laying in bed, I can see her shape in the darkness, mountainous curves underneath a vast spread of untainted white sheets, lit only by the small green lamp on my work desk across the room where my other cameras are. She's smilling at me, taunting me; daring me. Her hand rubs her face, sliding down her neck and across her collorbone, continuing down the silky path of sin into her southern borders, and God I wish it was my hand. She can see it in my eyes, and she laughs. She fucking laughs! But in spite of my ego, I smile and laugh with her, my thumb twidling with the film advance knob on my camera.
I keep my breathing as steady as I can, and bite my lip to keep myself in control, but that's getting harder to do by the second as she sends waves rolling down her figure. As she slithers in her spot, I can see each muscle underneath her tight skin working to impress my film and at this point the crotch on these jeans is begining to feel tighter by the throb.
There's a click, and a flash, and I'm blinded. Not by the image of the room encased in light as it lingers in my vision long after the darkness engulfs us again, but by the smooth curve of her ass as she swiveled, turning her hips away from me and revealing those luscious round peaches I want to sink my teeth into. Blinded by her perfect smile, by the twinkle in her eye that lingers even after the light is gone. By the pale smooth landscape I want to explore with every cell in my body. Each fiber of muscle in my legs wants to go to work tonight, to pump away, and my stomach is tight and ready to pull my hips up, and push them down in the rythm of instinct, but she won't let me, not yet.
I snap another picture, and spin the film advance carassel, and she tosses her black hair around her face, eyes locked with my lens. She pulls her hand out of that blood red lace that's forcing my libido to buck like a bull, and the matador's hands push her up into a sitting position. My hands are sweating so much that my finger almost slips off of the snap button as I take the next photo. She lips her pouting lips, and though I can't hear it, I read my name on her lips. Aaron.
Her hands find their way to the base of my thighs, behind the knees, fingers spidering their way up until they slightly tread across my ass. They find their way up and link through my belt loop, and as her nails barely scrap across the denim around my waist, I can feel the feather light scraping until her hands meet together at the button. With one quick, smooth motion, the button weaves itself through the loop and suddenly my restraints are much looser. Her hands run down the front of my thighs, warming the tense legs in the cold night air at the touch, and she brings them back up and runs them beneath my shirt. I snap another picture and the light shows me those eyes. Enticing, teasing and pleading at the same time.
She leaves those full red rose petals for lips open slightly as she leans forward, taking the zipper between her teeth and slowly pulling down, brushing her face against my yearning desire, the only part of me hotter than her hands as they scratch at my stomach. Another picture. As the flaps of my jeans fall forward, revealing a V of my own flesh and hair, she lifts her face and kisses just below my bellybutton, and I shiver at the sensitive brush of her tongue. As she pulls her face, away, I see the clearly defined spot where her lips are stained; another picture.
She then takes the camera from my hands, and sits it on my work desk beside the lamp, and pulls me down onto the bed. When I was behind the camera, I could look but I couldn't touch; the gloves were off now and I was in the ring as much a contender as she was. She rips the buttons off of my shirt, and snakes her arms around my torso underneath the thin material. I pull my arms out of the sleeves and thrown the shirt onto the floor, but I'm not thinking about yet another ruined shirt because her legs are wrapped around my hips and pulling me tight against her own, grinding up and down.
She nuzzles her face into her neck, and urges me into the rythm, running her hands down my back, and squeezing my cheeks so hard I can feel her nails cutting into my skin. She bites at the flesh on my collarbone, and I let out a near silent whimper of uncontrolable pleasure, forcing my hips to buck into hers hard. She throws her head back, and my tongue flows down her soft neck, and down between her breasts. She runs her hand up and down the front of my stomach, tracing the trail of small hairs from my chest down to what she wants. My thumbs crawl underneath the edges of her lace and I slide them down her thighs, together and rubbing in deep desire, past her ankles, arched and writhing. My hands take her knees, and she spreads as I open, and I can see her hands gripping the sheets; the tables have turned. She wants what's coming as badly as I do, and I'm too weak a man to deny her passage to the show.
Our voices are as explosive as our passion as I thrust inside of her, and it's just like I imagined; warm and sweet like honey. Each time I pull out the entire length into the cold air, she's even hotter when I push myself back inside and she moans into the cold air. Her heels are digging into the back of my legs but the pain is as equal a pleasure and as she grips my hair I feel her quiver around me and it sends me into a world I've never been to. I can feel her flooding around myself and the wind escapes my throat like burning steam, and she whispers sweet words into my ears. I feel a preasure building inside of my and her legs are pulling her even harder inside of her, slamming with bruising force and as her thighs tighten around me I explode. I can feel the rush shooting from me and all around me it sticks, and I grip her legs and hold them there so neither of us moves.
Minutes later we've finally caught our breath and I'm still inside but I finally let myself fall out, and roll over onto my back. The green eyed raven goddess beside me is telling me all the things I want to hear about myself and my prowess. Words of power that fuel the work that went into the passion for the next war of euphoria and pain. Pain is Euphoria with her.
I stare at the ceiling, lost in my thoughts and feeling my release all over myself while I feel her moving. I need a shower.
"Hey." I hear her say. I lift my head, and shake my sweat drenched hair out of my eyes and then there's a flash; the final picture. I throw my hands up to brace my eyes from the flash, but of course I'm too late.
"What are you doing?" I asked, and she throws herself down beside me on the bed.
"Stacey demands pictures since she's covering my shift tonight." she tells me. I'm quiet after her comment, and she knows why.
"I thought you were going to quit working that joint after we moved in together?" I ask. She sighs, snuggles up against my body, trembling from the strenuous work it just went through to appease her appetites. "Suddenly you're not quitting?" It wasn't a question so much as it was a statement.
"It's good money." she tells me.
"I can support us." I state. I've run the paperwork by her, and she knows it's a fact, albeit barely a fact.
"It's not a big deal. I'm comfortable with it, I've been doing it for two years."
"How can you be fucking comfortable taking off your goddamn clothes for old geezers?" I asked her, disgusted at the thought and I push away from her, rolling out of bed. I don't bother picking up my jeans or even throwing on a pair of boxers as I walk to the bathroom. I know she's angry about my comment, I don't need to look back to feel the burning glare I'm getting as I walk out of the room.
I don't exactly clean my skin, I just sort of stand under the water and let it run down my back. I didn't mean to say that to her, but the fact that she won't quit working the sleezey stripper bar boils my attitude. I want to take care of her. Give her the world. Fuck the world, I want to give her the entire damn universe, but she won't let me. Instead, she tried to take care of me. I wish she'd stop being so goddamn perfect because I'm going to start having some serious self esteem issues is she keeps being mother fucking Teresa.
"Baby, I'm sorry." she calls through the door, only to make my current self blame-game even worse. "I know you don't want me working there but I know how much this place costs a month, and with utilities and gas, and food on top of that..." she pauses, and I open my mouth to stop her but nothing comes out because I know she's right. No matter how much I want to, I can't really affor to give her everything she needs. "I just don't want you to work so hard for me. I barely see you as it is..."
I shut the water off, and step out. I don't care if I'm getting my floor soaked because right now all I care about is her, and all I want to do is look into those eyes of hers. I open the door, ready to see her perfect aura there but she's not here. I lean out of the doorway, and look around but she's no longer in the hallway. Then I see a flash coming from my room and I smile to myself, and step back into the bathroom. I wrap a towel around my waist, and look into the moirror. I take my hands and ruffle my dark brown hair dry, and look at the dark circles beneath my eyes. I need some shut eye, but when she's over, I never get any. I'm too busy getting lost inside of her and her mind.
"Hey Aaron," she called out to me, and I flick off the bathroom light, deciding that I can shave in the morning, and grogged my way to my room. The neon lights from the club across the street have turned on now, and brilliant blue and purple blades of light slash my wall through the blinds. "Baby look at this." she told me, her voice as shakey as her hand.
I take my digital from her hand, and look at the bright screen. It's her, bighting her lip coyly and winking at me. "What about it?"
"Look in the closet." she tells me, standing behind me as if bracing for something. I hold down the zoom button and look into the darkness. And that's all I saw; darkness.
"Babe, I'm not seeing anything." I told her, handing the camera back to her and throwing myself back on my bed, reaching over to grab my menthol's off the dresser. "But if you want to see somehting we can have round two. You know I'm good for it." I wink at her and the smoke in my lungs snakes and slithers up my face.
"Fuck, Aaron." she sighs, and I laugh.
"That's the idea."
"Now is not the time you dick, I'm serious! I think there's someone in your closet!" she hisses, so low it's practically a whisper. I roll my eyes and toss my head back on my pillow and take another long drag of my cig.
"Come to bed." I groan, and I see another flash as she snaps my camera again. I growl, partly out of annoyed frustration and sit up where I see her shuffling as far away as she can from the closet, practically becoming one with the desk, gasping and screaming. I only invtervine when she's trying to crawl on my desk to get as close to the opposite wall as possible. "Hey! C'mon, now, this shit is expensive!" I say, jumping up and restraining her body. She struggles but I hold her, though she won't stop screaming at the closet. The neighbors are going to think our 'lovely' relationship is a little one sided... like "rape" one-sided... I kneel down and pick up my red digital she dropped on the floor, and I flick the screen light back on, hoping to god it's not broken from the violent outburst.
"JESUS fucking CHRIST!" I shout as I almost drop the camera again. There were eyes looking back at me inside my closet from behind my shirts. Dark eyes, beneath pale grey skin and dark wet blonde hair, reflecting in the light. I realize I'm biting into the filter of my cigarette and I spit it out and lift the camera again. I snap another picture but just as the light flods the room for that split second the closet door slammed shut. I don't know whose screaming was louder but both of us were sounding like a little girl right at thise moment so it was hard to decipher.
"Fuck Aaron, what are we going to do?" she asked me, but I was at a loss. The door was by the closet, and no fucking WAY was I going near that fucker! I scrambled to the floor in search of my jeans to find my phone, but I couldn't feel it anywhere. I took off the towel and threw it across the room, incidently it hit the closet door, and I shoved my jeans on so fast I'm sure it had to be a record. I looked around my room for something to use as a weapon, and settle for her spikes; push come to shove I can always gauge his eyes out with the heels, right? I began to inch my way closer to the closet.
My heart is pounding, and i'm suddenly aware of how cold the room is, partly because I'm still damp. My jeans were sticking to my wet legs, making it a bit harder to move quickly, in case I decided to dart for the front door, and I keep moving anyway, crouched like a tiger ready to attack. A scared tiger. Facing a hundred foot Lion. Hidden in shadows. With a broken leg. And filed claws. With dentures, which I forgot to put in. A pretty fucking useless tiger.
"I know this isn't the right time, but this is starting to give me a rush..." she tells me in a whisper that so fucking seductive that I wish there wasn't someone to worry about in the closet so I can wrap those legs around me again.
"Jesus Woman, not now!" I hiss back, and focus on the door once more. I'm almost to the closet when I hear three loud knocks. I jump, and she screams again, nearly deafening me at the same time. Suddenly I'm angry. Where the fuck the anger comes from, I don't know but it's there, and I'm thinking to myself that I'm not gonna let some asshole ruin my homecoming with my woman, and fucking christ he probably watched us fuck like monkeys on a Viagra diet. This sudden thought dulls the anger down a little, but I thrust the closet door open and yell as I'm ready to stab some eyes.
No one there. I flick on the switch by the door and the room is filled with light. No one at all. I saw that mother fucker with my own eyes, I know that there was someone in here, but as I look around the small space, there's no living person in there. The smell was a different story. It smelled like rotting, dead ass.
"Fuck..." I sighed, and turned my back to the closet, looking at my girl. "There's nothing in there." I say, and suddenly, as all the adrenaline wears off, I colapse onto the corner of the bed. She quickly strides over and frantically looks for someone in my closet but finds nothing.
"But we saw someone in the damn closet! You saw the damn picture!" she said, but I waved her off with my hand and hung my head, now coming to my senses.
"Look, there could be a billion different explanations for that. Maybe the memory stick needs to be defragged and a partial piece of another picture ended up being duplicated onto the frame..." I say, making things up as I go to make it sound logical. She seemed to buy it.
"Then let's go in the closet and let the imaginary voyeur watch us do what we do best." she smiled, and walked into the closet, but I grabbed her wrist.
"No! No, let's not toy with fate, yeah? We have a bed to fuck on. I nice one." I told her, but she yanked her wrist out of my grip and beckoned me inside with her fingers, and she shut the door.
"If you want it you'll have to come in hear and take it." she told me. Fuck, I was still terrified of the possibility that there was someone in my closet, alone with my girlfriend now, but she made the fear and anxiety sort of sexy, and she usually won. I stood up, and reached for the doorknob. As I turned it, it wouldn't budge.
"Babe, quit holding the handle, I'm coming in." I told her. No answer. I tried the knob again but it still wouldn't turn. "Seriously, c'mon! You turned me on and I'm like a coffee pot with an automatic drip so quit fucking around and let me in."
There's a loud bang againt my door like something, or someone was thrown against it. The hinges creak and then there's another bang. "Babe! Open the door, baby, you're freaking me out!" I yelled, banging on the door and twisting the knob as I call into her. Suddenly she screams, and there's another hard bang against my closet door. A loud snapping could be hear as a long fissure appeared on my door where it cracked. But ruining my apartment wasthe least of my worries because out of that crack, a slow line of red began to seep through.
I sort of lost control in panick, but I'm ramming the door with my bare shoulder to get in there and make sure she's okay, but the door isn't budging. I start kicking and kicking when I realize I'm getting blood all over myself, possibly hers. Now I'm really pissed. I go the the other side of the room, and start building myself up; I'm gonna get in there even if I have to break my door to do so. I jolt, and run, and right as I'm about to slam into the closet door, it swings open and I trip, and fall in. It would have been bad if I had tripped and fallen into the back of my closet; It's worse that I tripped and fell into another place, outside of my apartment, outside of my town. Outside of Goddamn reality.
§-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-§
There were these two people living together in a peculiar house.
This house was so peculiar because it made such...
strange noises
The couple decided that they had to move; they could no longer stand living with such...
strange noises
So they packed their bags and put on their propeller hats
That's what was written on the ground, and fuck was it starting to feel really weird. Almost like the words were watching me... if you could describe it that way. It seemed true enough, since there were a hundred different 'strange noises' all around me coming from somewhere in the darkness all around.
The ground was slick with water or something oily, and it was hard to stand, let alone walk. I didn't know what the works were spelled out of, but it didn't look like koolaid and I didn't want to fall in it if it was what I thought it was. I didn't know where I was, but the light from the dim, upside-down martini shaped lamps above weren't giving me much of an idea. It looked like a cafeteria of some kind. I slowly slid my way around the large message and I used the long tables for balance as I struggled to the double doors.
I've experienced some crazy things in my life, but an acid trip without acid involved is fucking scary. I mean, I jump through my closet into a cafeteria? and there was no doorway behind me that I could have come through. But hopefully I'm just passed out in my closet, and hopefully she had just been playing a prank on me and hopefully she's getting me into bed right now, or calling an ambulance. Hopefully. I reached for the handles of the double doors, but only the right side was open. As I was about to pull the door open, and could hear something from the other side; a long, heavy scraping. Someone, or God forbid, something, was dragging something large and metal across the floor outside. It sounded as though it were moving away, although I couldn't really be sure. Then I heard it; the scream that forced me to open the door faster than I could think; it was her.
I burst out into the hall and nearly fell on my ass by how slippery the floor was in this dark hallway. The light from the cafeteria didn't really offer any profound light, though on the ground before me I could see my red digital camera on the ground. She must have dropped it, she's here too. I have to find her. I knelt low to the ground to pick up my camera, and then the smell hit me. It burned, and was unimaginably rank. The floor was covered in a black curdled looking substance, and when I picked up my camera, I swear the shit squirmed underneath my fingers. Since I didn't exactly have a shirt to wipe off my camera, and had to swipe it across the thigh of my jeans a few times.
Another scream.
I wasted no time to turn the camera on, and snap a quick picture, using the flash to see my surroundings. Walls crawled with small, strange insects, and the ceiling peeled with age. There was an ashey odor to the air, and it was thin and stale; extremely hard to breath in. Everything seemed moist, as if to say the hall was alive. It fact I could swear I hear a pulse, as though a heartbeat pulsed through the floor itself. I snapped another flash, and then I saw her, writhing and being draged by her hair by someone.
I set out at a run, and began to click my snap button furiously, and my chase looked like a slow flip book of fucked up pictures. I was still a good ten yards away, but I know that she could see me behind the flashes of the camera. She had to. As I used all of my will to rip my eyes off of her for a moment to see who this fucker was that was dragging my girl, I saw what was definitely weirder than anything here so far.
The guy was huge! At least seven feet tall at the shoulders, and he had something screwed onto his head. This huge pyramid thing was tied down to his back with two chains that ran down his spine through thick iron hoops that pierced down the length of his back. His arms were bound tightly and formed in some series of belts, and his waist was draped in what could only be skin. As if this wasn't fucked up enough, in his right hand he was dragging a huge serated blade, like a giant hunting knife. They turned the corner up ahead, and I watched her legs disappear around the corner with him. When I finally reached the turn, I swiveled around the corner myself and almost ran into two large thick rusted metal doors. There were nine red squares space evenly apart, three up by three across. Something about them made my back muscles contort and contract with a painful pulse. However, I pushed the two large doors aside and looked around.
This room was a pale grey, and completely spotless. It the center of the room sat a blonde little girl with long locks of golden curls, sitting on a white chair with wings protruding from its shoulders. She was lost in a fairytale book she had been reading, but my attention soon went to where her feet touched the ground. There before her was the body of a naked young woman, legs torn off and missing, her face was stuck in her last moment of eternal horror.
§-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-§
AN: I'm just letting everyone who plans to read this story through that no, I'm not doing like every game company taking over and putting Pyramid Head in here just to have him in here. I meant yes he's nifty, but they're taking away his purpose and just tossing him around these days. He plays a VERY important role in this story, but this isn't like the Pyramid Head you all love to know, this one is very different and very driven by other factors, and significantly altered base desires. So now that you've read, review while I get this second chapter up and going.