Free Kittens
By: David McGhee
Copyright © 2011 David McGhee
Cover design copyright © 2011 by David McGhee
Book design and layout copyright © 2011 by David McGhee
Author photographs copyright © 2010 by Tammy Ealom
For Tina Dix, James Williams, and Amber Williams. You guys took me in during my darkest hour… Thank you!
“You’re my brand of heroin” – Edward Cullen, Twilight: by Stephanie Meyer
Prologue: That was the best sex I've ever had!
On Tuesday, when the Hi Dive is slow, she talks about strippers and the Rabid Ragdolls. The latter was her band, the prior just an odd obsession she’s had since age four. Her name was Tara and she had to be the coolest female bartender at the music venue / bar. Standing at a meager 5'2" she was just barely tall enough to reach over the counter of the bar. Not that this bothered anyone, she was such a blast that no one cared that she had trouble reaching across and giving people their drinks. Being a hot bartender with a great demeanor meant that she made very, very good money, despite the efficiency problems.
Malcolm was a little more than drunk and he was dead set on taking Tara home tonight (at the current moment at least). Even though he had no chance in hell with her he still tried his best all the same every time he came around when she was working. Tara thought it was cute such a tall handsome individual would give her attention. She was taken though, but still flattered.
Also, he was also a little too pale for her tastes. She liked her men with a little tan, which Malcolm sorely lacked like a skinny person without food.
"Could I buy you a drink, baby?" Malcolm slurred, leaning against the bar.
Tara smiled and wiped off a martini glass with her dish rag. "I don't drink while at work sweetie."
Malcolm took out a crumpled ten dollar bill from his pocket and pushed it toward her. "Well, this would be a good time to start!"
"I'm good. And you sir, are cut off." She motioned for Malcolm’s drink and he begrudgingly let her take it from his right hand.
Malcolm frowned and pouted his small light blueish pink lips. He took back the ten and put it in his wallet, in defeat he went out into the dance crowd to find another fresh victim for tonight.
He spotted a hot couple, a tall red headed guy and a somewhat shorter (but still tall) blue haired girl and decided that they were worth his time. He stumbled his way, slowly but surely through the throngs of sweaty hipsters. He came not even two feet from the two when they noticed his presence. The guy was caught off guard but the girl looked up and smiled.
"Hey there big boy." She said. She was obviously as drunk as Malcolm was, at least she appeared to be and appearances are everything right? She steadied herself next to the elevated stage up front where they stood.
Score! Malcolm thought.
"Hello." Malcolm extended his hand, nearly falling over in the process from both the alcohol and the fact that a very pretty girl was giving him attention. He wasn’t sure he was this drunk but it did make rejection a little easier to cope with if he told himself that he wasn’t in his right mind. "My name is Malcolm. And you are going to go home with me tonight, right?" He asked no one in particular, he smiled and looked from the girl to the guy and back. The boy put up his hands and backed away, then went back into the crowd, leaving the tall blue haired lady all to Malcolm’s lonesome self.
She took his hand. "My name is Sarah." Malcolm shook it a little too enthusiastically but she saw potential in him. He had nice clothes on and what appeared to be a real gold cross necklace around his long thin neck. This one would be easy she thought.
"You want a drink?" He asked, pulling out the crumpled ten dollars.
"No thanks." Sarah held up a half drunken lemon sour martini above her head and laughed. "I think I'm pretty sloshed as it is." She took a sip from it and spilled some on her shirt, leaving a yellow stain on her white Fall Out Boy t-shirt that poked through her black zip up hoodie. She giggled and put the drink back on the stage beside her.
Malcolm ran his long fingers through his short black spiky hair. "Well, how am I to take advantage if you aren't crawling on the floor?" The girl laughed and Malcolm felt confident that he was going to get some tonight.
At six foot three and one hundred and sixty pounds, Malcolm had an easy time attracting attention from potential mates. That and he felt that he was great in bed; at least that was from the testimonials of many a satisfied customer. Self-esteem had to come from somewhere.
The girl was only about four or so inches shorter than he was, which was cool, but he preferred shorter girls and guys. Most tall people do.
They talked about the local music scene and how the dance party they were at was the coolest in the world.
"Sara T's Dancetron is the best show there is that doesn't involve live music." Malcolm said, his elongated arms now holding the small of Sarah’s back as they slow danced to the fast, pulsating house music. The mass of bodies around them gyrated violently to the beats and occasionally knocked into the two, who just laughed and shrugged it off as if it were no big deal.
"I think I should get going soon." Sarah said softly into Malcolm's ear. Malcolm felt a pang of sorrow and let go of his potential beau. He looked down toward his converse shoes and let out a long, tired sigh.
Sarah giggled and took his right hand. She stood on her tip toes and spoke into his ear again. "I mean, I need to get going…” she paused “with you!"
Malcolm's head shot up and he grinned, barring his heavenly white smile. Sarah noticed his abnormally large canines.
"You could be a vampire!" She said.
Malcolm cocked his head and became serious, a long worry line formed in the middle of his forehead. "I've been told that I suck particularly well." His frown turned into a smile and they both laughed. He took her hand and led her out of the hip music venue and out onto the sidewalk of Broadway.
"Actually would you mind if I took my car?" She asked.
"Yeah sure, how about we go separately to my place?" He took her hand and kissed it. For the first time that night she became aware of just how cold he felt.
"Um... Ok. Where do you live?"
"Off of Boulder and Platte. I'm in one of those new condos."
She smiled. "Those are expensive. What do you do for a living?"
This time it was Malcolm's turn to give his best smiley face "I am a graphic artist by trade. But professionally, I'm a lady killer." He grabbed a hold of Sarah and hugged her hard. She could smell the strong tinge of alcohol permeating from his every pore. The bitter aromas of ethanol and this odd cold sweat had made her stomach contract and expand with the contents being pushed up her esophagus.
"I bet you are." She said, trying to catch her breath as he held onto her with more force than she was used to. He pulled her closer and could feel a big erection in his pants. It would have been exciting if he weren't so damn cold. Alcohol constricts the blood vessels, she reasoned, it's just his blood circulation slowing down and the frigid January air.
"Let me text you my address." Malcolm got out his Blackberry cell phone and asked her for her contact info. Once he procured the ten digit number he dutifully gave her the directions. "I'll be waiting outside the indoor parking lot for you." He grabbed a hold of her head with both hands and kissed her on the lips. She made a move to slip him her tongue but couldn't get passed his teeth. He let go and happily told her "Not now. Save it for later." With a salute he stumbled down north on Broadway toward his car on sixth. She turned around and headed to the parking lot in the rear of the Hi Dive.
She got into her red Sedan and waited for about fifteen minutes, listening to the new Death Cab for Cutie album on her MP3 player. After some thought she turned the ignition and pulled out of the parking space and onto Broadway, which is a one way street going south. With some deft maneuvering, she got onto Lincoln one block east and headed north toward the city.
When she got there he was standing in the parking garage next to his new white Volkswagen Rabbit as promised. She parked and got out and he seemingly floated toward her as if he were on a cloud. It was entrancing and when he got to her he kissed her on the forehead. "I'm happy you got here safely." He looked her into the eyes. She never noticed how bright green they were until now. "Any damage to be done should be done by me." He smiled and took her hand, leading her through the entrance and to an elevator on the right of the lobby. She was struck by the fantastic white and green paint job of the walls and the soft manila shag carpeting.
She decided to get him good and excited before they even got to the apartment and grabbed a hold of his crotch. He just stood there against the hallway wall, enjoying himself while she groped around his dick through the tight denim jeans he had on. He couldn't wait to get up to his room and get out her out of those hip hugging pants and t-shirt. She had left her black zip hoodie in her car.
Once they reached the fourth floor he led her by the hand toward room 430. He fumbled for his keys like a drunken, horny frat boy and opened his front door. To her amazement she could see that he barely had any furniture. All that was present was a thirty two inch flat screen TV supported by a blue milk crate and a small black futon.
Sarah cringed. "You have a bed, right?"
Malcolm pulled her toward him and wrapped his body around hers; again her breath was taken away by the embrace. "Of course I do." His lips locked with hers. "And it's a nice bed too." He paused. "I'm not sure if my roommate is here though." He went down the dimly lit hallway and knocked on the second door on the left. After about a minute of heavy pounding he turned back toward Sarah and laughed. "He's a low level office assistant for a big shot lawyer. Probably out of town helping sue God knows who."
Sarah smiled.
Malcolm took off his navy blue sport coat with all the band buttons and threw it on the futon in the large living area. Without the coat she could see just how skinny he actually was. He looked borderline anorexic and she could imagine his hip bones poking her in her legs during sex. The thought gave her shivers.
"So where's the bedroom?" Sarah asked. The place looked like they'd just moved in, except there were not boxes to be seen. The only sign of wealth was the flat screen and about six or seven Blu Ray DVD's on the floor.
"Um..." Malcolm was at a loss. "Don't you want to do anything else first? Are you sure you want to go straight into there?" He didn't necessarily object to the idea but it was a first. Usually he had to work for these sorts of things. The fun of it was the chase (at least that’s what he told himself when the other party wasn’t as eager as he was at that particular point in time). He liked to romance a little, he wanted to feel like a gentlemen before he got his dick wet.
"Nope, I felt what was down there and I'm all excited now." She blew him a kiss. He smiled in response. "Do you have any rope or anything that could be used as rope?" She asked.
"You want to be tied up?" He asked cautiously. Although after a second of thought he seemed to get excited by the idea.
"No." She said, her grin grew into a straight and serious face. "It's for you." She walked over to him and put her right hand on his cold, pale face. It sent electric shocks throughout her, like biting into an electric eel. She had to pull away before she went into little convulsions.
"But..." Malcolm said, disappointed. "I like being on top." He looked very disappointed in the idea. She would have none of it though.
Sarah came closer and grabbed his balls through his pants and held on tightly, making him get harder than he already was. "You want to fuck me right?" She whispered into his ear.
Malcolm gulped a bubble of air and nodded his head nervously without saying a word. He wanted some tonight and he was willing to do whatever it took to procure it. It’s just that this was going a little fast for him.
"Then I'm in control." She said. Malcolm accepted these terms and showed her the way to his bed room down the hall. Once inside she was pleasantly taken aback by all the electronics he had in his room. iPhones and Droids littered the top of his dresser drawer, there were two big, expensive looking laptops on the floor, Dell and Hewlett Packard respectively, and he had a nice bed like he said he did. It was a queen sized mattress with a fine white silk looking comforter that was so thick it could've passed for a mattress itself. She saw potential in the electronics and was happy that he was at least worth the trip over. There had to be about a grand worth of stuff in this room. The thought made her wet down where the sun never shined, that is of course unless she had a job that involved fucking on the beach or something, exceptions can be made.
Malcolm left the room in search of something that could be used as a restraint and came back a few minutes later grinning and dangling two pairs of shiny metallic handcuffs in the air with his left hand. "Will these work?"
Sarah smiled and clasped her hand over her mouth. "Yeah! Where did you get them?"
"I killed a highway patrolman and stole them from his belt." His happy demeanor did not waver. Sarah took it as a joke. She went over to Malcolm and retrieved the cuffs from his hands. He lifted them high above his head, out of her reach. She played along and jumped up to nab them, but every time she did he would raise them higher and higher above. Getting annoyed she put her hands to her side and grunted. Malcolm's smile turned upside down and he gave her the two pairs of restraints out of apology. She placed them on the bed and began to undress. Malcolm followed suit and was naked before she was. Sarah paused in the middle of taking her panties off and was aghast by the size of his genital region. He looked uncomfortably big and she wondered what she would do once she had cuffed him to the bed.
Would she sleep with him?
Could she sleep with him?
She wouldn't sleep with him. She was here for a reason and it wasn't to fuck a well endowed pale skinny white boy hipster. Even his dick and balls were whitish in hue. A major turn off if she had ever seen one.
"Well?" Malcolm said, waving down toward his private area where there was a thick patch of groomed black pubic hair covering the surrounding area his unmentionables. "What do'ya think?"
Sarah had to think fast to keep the momentum going."I think you are the most perfect man I've ever come across!" She lied. "Get on the bed." Malcolm did as he was told and climbed onto the queen sized mattress and laid down on his back. He smiled and extended his arms toward the poles on the head board and kept them there. Sarah went over to one side and slapped on the cuffs, they made a loud scraping clink against the wood when she did so. She made sure they were tight enough where he wouldn't be able to wriggle out. As if his big hands could even do such a thing. Big men were good for certain reasons some times. She went to the other side of the bed and did the same to his other wrist. Malcolm's erection was rigid and sticking way out into the open.
"The key to the cuffs are in my pants pocket." He cooed.
Sarah picked up her panties and put them back on. Whatever drunk facade she had been playing was completely gone now. She hastily began getting her clothes off the floor.
"What are you doing?" Malcolm asked, confused. "I thought we were going to..."
"No." She said matter of factly as she got her shirt up off the floor and held them with the rest of her effects. "I'm not here to fuck you." She turned toward him and smiled. "You have a lot of nice things in this room. I was worried when I saw your living room but as it turns out, this trip wasn't a waste after all."
"You cunt licking bitch!" Malcolm tried to break free but it was no use. The headboard held steadfastly and the cuffs would not falter. Sarah laughed and got fully dressed before taking the smart phones from his dresser and putting them in her pink Gucci purse.
"I wonder if you are the kind of loser who keeps cash in his wallet?" Sarah picked up Malcolm's jeans and looked through the pockets. The wallet was a small brown leather number and had two Wells Fargo credit cards, fifty six dollars in cash, and some loose change. Not a lot but she supposed it was enough to get home and buy some pot from her neighbor in Deer Trail. In her purse the money and cards went.
She looked through the other pocket and found the key he was talking about. She threw the pants down and then waved it in front of Malcolm's feet. He growled and for a moment she could swear it was an animal sound. It was too deep and guttural to be human. She let it pass and placed the key on top of the dresser, which was a good four feet away from her target.
"Looks like Mr. Roommate will have to get you out of this one." She sang. Sarah grabbed both laptops and held onto them, one on top of the other with both arms. "If you have password protection on these things I'm going to be very disappointed." Malcolm was beyond words and just lay on the bed as the scene played out before him. If he were able to grow red with rage, this would've been the time he would have done so. He felt embarrassed to still have a huge erection during a time like this.
"I'm going to kill you..." He said in a low, scary voice that spooked Sarah. She stopped mid stride and turned around, dumbfounded to hear that animal growl again.
"Yeah," Sarah replied, now unsure of herself. "I'm totally sure you will." She paused for almost a minute and went for the door, but before she left she turned back and faced Malcolm. "I hope it was as good for you as it was for me." And with a nervous, laugh she left, slamming the door behind her.
Malcolm struggled against the wooden poles of his bed, cursing and growing wild. It groaned and creaked with the pressure he was exerting on them. After almost ten minutes of his anger building and building the headboard poles gave in.
Sarah had left the apartment and was in her car within a minute. She sped out of the underground parking lot and within twenty minutes was well on her way toward Deer Trail off of I70 east bound. Particularly proud of her booty she relished the accomplishment. She had the new Bloc Party album playing on her MP3 player and was getting into a groove of sorts when she heard it. A scratch on the roof of her Prius, at first it was just a minor annoyance but soon it grew louder and louder. She ignored it the best she could but after almost ten minutes of it she decided to pull into the nearest exit and into an all night Conoco gas station. She parked in the front and got out. Sarah got out and examined the roof, saw what looked like claw marks. Whatever had been on top of the car had scratched the hell out of it. Silver metal shown through the scratched up paint, it was as if somebody had keyed it with a Goddamn rake.
"Awe, fuck all!" She shouted, causing nearby motorists who were filling up their cars to look her way. Embarrassed she ducked her head inside her arms and went inside the convenience store, where she searched for something to eat.
Maybe something to drink.
Anything to take her mind of the fucking car.
Anything to take her mind off of those horrible claw marks.
Anything to get her mind off how much it would cost to get those damn marks removed; she had just stolen it not even three months ago. Having done the same routine with Malcolm but that time with a straight razor, she had been able to permanently incapacitate the man and had searched through his house until she found the title and all of the papers for it. She forged his name on the right ones and had gotten the car legally put in her name. The insurance was being paid by one of the few people who she hadn't screwed over, well, not totally. He was her sugar daddy and he treated her well.
The thought made her smile as she perused the chip isle of the store. She picked out some Rold Gold pretzel sticks and grabbed a Diet Coke from the refrigerated drink section before heading toward the cashier. The lady up front was a short, pudgy, with long brown hair down to her ass. Sarah thanked her stars to be as lucky as she was to be so tall and beautiful. Even with her blue hair she considered herself a catch.
She placed the items on the counter.
As the lady scanned them into her register she asked "So how are we tonight?"
Sarah smiled. "I'm doing excellent. Just got done with a job and I'm finally heading home."
The lady returned the grin and pulled out a plastic bag from underneath the counter. "Well that's good to hear. I'm getting off at five this morning myself."
That reminded Sarah, it was nearly three am and she had yet to call her man to ask if she could come over in the morning to get some ecstasy pills. She took the brown plastic bag and said goodbye to the homely cashier. As she walked back to her car she took another long look at the damage to her roof. As she surveyed the destruction she couldn't help but think of Malcolm's low and frightening animal growl.
‘I'm going to kill you...’
"What the hell could of done that?" She asked herself. The opened the driver's side door with her free hand and she placed the bag on the passenger side seat. She got in and fumbled inside her purse for the keys. She always lost her keys in the damn thing because it was so cluttered with knick knacks and such, souvenirs of conquests past. One was a tiny ceramic teddy bear she had stolen from a lesbian a few months ago; another was a small glove from this short guy with long dark hair who claimed to be a war hero. Her favorite though was an old Transformer toy. One of the mini ones from the eighties, she remembered its name to be 'Beachcomber'. She loved those toys and was ecstatic to have taken such a find.
She hadn't really gotten anything from Malcolm's place that could be considered a souvenir because the man barely had anything except for what she had taken from his room. She supposed she could always keep one of the phones she had taken. Her Blackberry was old anyways, she'd just have one of the Droids flashed and set to her Verizon service plan. The thought brought a smile to her face.
She cursed herself though for not going back for the Blu Ray player and DVD's.
She turned the keys to the ignition and it puttered to life, she then pulled back out of the parking lot, then sped off and out onto the service road which led to the highway. Once there she set the car in fifth gear and coasted on the highway at nearly eighty miles an hour. That is at least until she heard the scratching noises from on the top of her car again.
"What the hell is that?" She asked herself, visibly shaking with fear. It was like nails on steel and it was enough to give her both a headache and chills all throughout her Barbie doll body. The noises only got louder as she drove and she debated on whether or not to pull over to the side of the road, get the gun out of her purse, and take care of whatever was causing her so much distress.
The sounds cut to her very bones and shattered her eardrums. It was like being at a rock concert or something, whatever was on top of the car, it was fucking it up royally. A few moments later the scratching stopped, but it did little to ease Sarah's nerves. She nervously looked into her rear view mirror, hoping that the cause of the noises had fallen off and onto the road at eighty miles an hour. She saw nothing in the back of the road though.
A loud metallic clank jolted her out of her lane and she had to pull herself back before she ran into the only other oncoming car on the road. Luckily though there were no cars other than that one on the road at this time of night. There generally no motor vehicles around the Bennett area normally anyways but the fact still remained that it would be her luck that she would slam into a semi truck going out of the lines like she had just done.
Her heart was pulsating at great speed and she began to break out into a cold sweat. Another clink, more like a terrible steel crunch, sent her into panic and she stepped on the gas, hoping to throw off the thing that was on her roof.
"GO AWAY!" She screamed. She wanted to break and throw the creature or whatever it was off but she knew that at the speed she was going she would be more liable to flip over and kill herself.
It was then the whole roof flew off of the car with a mighty metallic rip. She sped off the road and into the grassy field to her right. She looked up and saw nothing but the stars above. No sign of any monster, she was in full panic attack mode right now and wished she had some valium or Xanax or something. This wasn’t good at all!
"FUCK!" She bellowed, losing grip of her wheel.
Then a cold hand fell on her shoulder. She looked to her passenger side and saw Malcolm sitting there. Her blood ran cold and her extremities went numb as if she had just gotten an intravenous shot of Novocain. He grinned and bared his ivory white teeth. His canines had grown and were now poking out of his mouth. His eyes were red like the stop lights she so often ignored. And his complexion was white as his silk sheets had been with a hint of horrible blue.
"That was the best sex I ever had!" Malcolm said in a deep, monstrous baritone, moments before he violently tore into her neck.
Chapter 1: I'ma just gonna get a little high
"God damn it!" Josh shouted in the closed up bathroom stall of The Corner Bakery. The heroin balloon he'd just bought not even ten minutes prior had turned out to be a piece of chocolate mint, which infuriated him to no end. Heroin should either be a nice black ball of vinegar smelling goo or it should be a light brown powder, at least in the western states. Junkies around Colorado would kill for the chance at some china white.
Josh took in a deep breath and threw the opened black wrapper with the black candy stuck to it into the toilet and gathered his works. He put his needle, metal spoon, lighter, and cotton swab back into the top open zipper of his brown messenger tote bag. Once everything was placed in there and zipped up he put back on his black punk zip hoodie with band buttons all over it.
Le Tigre
The Photo Atlas
The Offspring
My Chemical Romance
The Postal Service
Many more, plus one that told the reader that Josh was one smart cookie, it even had a cookie cartoon on it below the words.
Josh punched the right wall of the stall and opened the bathroom door. He was surprised to find a short man with a mustache waiting to use the facility. Josh waved him in and left the restaurant, leading him out onto the 16th Street Mall.
The day was cold and there was a little snow on the ground as he walked south / east toward Civic Center Park, where all good drugs could be found. Actually not ALL the good drugs, that title was held steadfastly with the pager dealers. The pagers were Mexicans (Only buy heroin in Denver from Mexicans, Josh learned this the hard way, as the ten dollar piece of mint he had bought just then was from a tall skinny white dude with t brown chin hair and a ratty looking black AVs hoodie had proven.) who had cars and would come to you anywhere within the city to bring you the dope. Josh considered these guys were awesome and felt that they had the best stuff but they were tough on enforcing the price. There was no haggling with these guys. They had great shit and they knew it.
Josh stopped at the end of 16th and Curtis and took out his wallet to see how much money he had left after being robbed. Twenty dollars was all he had and it needed to last at least until Monday (two days from now) when he could get tips from his job as a barista at The Jumping Bean coffee house. How he'd managed to be a junkie and keep a job was anyone's guess. The cold and hot flashes were already coming in waves all over his small body.
Josh decided to go for it. He could buy two pieces and make it last until then. He had the willpower.
Right?
He put the duct tape wallet he had bought from Hot Topic back into the pocket of his skinny jeans and took out his cell phone from his other. Josh didn’t want to have another candy ordeal so he was calling in the one person he knew wouldn’t screw him over. After taking off the phone's key lock he went into his contacts and found Jose's number. He hit dial and waited with the phone against his ear as the ring tone played festive Mexican mariachi music. After about six seconds he finally heard that familiar accented voice.
"Yeah, what?" Jose asked in fast, clipped speech.
"Hey man! I need twenty of black." Josh waited for a reply while Jose said something to somebody in the room with him.
"Ok man." He said. "10th and Bannock, twenty minutes."
"Cool, thanks dude." Josh hung up and locked his phone, putting it back into his pants pocket. He began his trek toward the destination down the way. The best way to do this was to take the "0" bus over on Market Street, which was only two blocks away
He'd gotten there in record time. The bus was just about to leave when he got to the stop down on Market and there were very few pickups aside from the main one on Broadway and Colfax, which always had at least ten people wanting to get on.
As he stood on the corner of 10th and Bannock he pondered on how long he could keep this up. He had no insurance therefore going to a detox facility was out of the question. He supposed he could always claim he was suicidal and go to West Pines, but they'd just see right through his plans and kick him out before he would even have the chance to take the first of the prescribed detoxification medicine. There was always Suboxone, which could be bought at the park during certain times throughout the day.
Suboxone is both an opioid agonist and antagonist. Meaning that it bonded to the opiate receptors like an opiate would, but it had a touch of Narcan in it, which was the cure for opiate overdose. This combination made it impossible to get high once on the medication. You also had to make sure you were in complete withdrawal before you took it, or it would put you in it and hard!
But these thoughts were far from ever coming into fruition. For now he was content with sticking a needle in his arm every day of the week, fifty two weeks a year, for the last two years. The rush of heroin was far better than any sexual encounter he'd ever had. No orgasm could compete with it. No pussy, no matter how tight and wet, could ever come close to how it felt when the dope hit your brain.
Dopamine is released when it hits.
Dopamine is the feel good stuff you get after an orgasm and after you eat a good meal.
Drugs hi jack this system and gives it to you on demand.
A natural high in a sense.
The thought of getting some soon made his body shiver with anticipation and he broke out into a cold sweat, which also could’ve been from the withdrawal from not having it in nearly twenty three hours.
It had to have been nearly thirty five minutes since he had last called him. He reached for his phone when he heard a honk. A dark green car came to a stop and parked alongside the road. Josh smiled and waved at the man in the vehicle, he did not return the gesture and actually scowled at him. He walked around and got in the passenger side door.
"Hey man!" Josh said, handing the Mexican the twenty dollars.
"Hey, mang." The man said, his speech garbled with heroin and coke balloons in his mouth. He spit one out of his mouth but it was white. He put it back in and spat out another, this time black. He went for a second one and then handed Josh the balloons. Josh saluted the guy and got out of the passenger side door. As he walked around the car it started and went down the street, where it made a left and disappeared. Josh surveyed the two heroin balls in his hand and could almost feel the intense euphoria that they would bring him. He smiled and headed down toward sixth, where there was a Starbucks bathroom with his name written all over it in red marker.
Or blood from the needle that would puncture his skin.
Chapter 2: Home, sweet hell.
Malcolm had made it home just before sunrise and he was beat. Chasing after that girl had taken it out of him. He debated on whether or not he should watch the daily light come from across the sky but thought better of it. It's not like he would burn up or anything, that was just in the movies, he was just a night owl.
He took off his clothes, which were stained with her blood, and hopped into the shower. In frustration over not bedding the girl he jerked off and aimed his penis toward the shower hole, taking his sperm down the pipes and out to God knows where. Once he was done with that he grabbed his loofa sponge and wiped himself off vigorously with Ax Body Wash. The shower head came to his chest and he had to duck to get his head into the water's line of fire. One of the downsides of being tall, he supposed.
He felt unclean and no matter how hot the water was or how hard he scrubbed he just couldn't get that damn female's scent off of him. He could smell the copper and iron of her plasma on his skin where it had spattered.
After nearly twenty minutes of this he turned the shower off and stepped out to dry himself off. He pulled the pink towel from the shower rod and wrapped it around his waist and walked out into the hallway and into his room, where he changed into his Power Ranger pajama bottoms. How he'd ever found them in his size was beyond him.
He walked barefoot and shirtless into the small kitchen that was adjoined to the living area. He wasn't hungry, probably wouldn't be for a while, but he was dying for some water. They had one of those Brita water filters that they advertised on TV and to be honest he couldn't taste the difference. He grabbed the container out of the refrigerator and placed it on the white wooden counter. He went to the top cabinet for a glass but could not find any. To his left was the dish sink, which had dirty dinnerware and cups piled to the tipping point. There was an ugly orange tint to the water and it stained the white dishes sticking up out of it. It was Harold's turn to do the dishes and he didn't even bother to do a damn one.
"I'm going to fucking kill that bastard when he gets home!" Malcolm said softly to himself. He felt like at that moment he would go through with his threat if Harold were to walk into the apartment at that particular point in time. He was lucky that he was on a business trip (at least Malcolm assumed that's where he was because he wasn’t home the night before) because he would of loved to tear his head off and suck on his spinal fluid at that very instant.
Malcolm stepped back and breathed in slowly, counting backwards from ten. He felt the need to kill something but he knew that he had already satisfied this craving earlier that day. It was time to relax. He would just wipe off the dishes and put them in the washer, keeping one to himself so he could get a drink.
A drink... Man that sounded good. He'd been good and sloshed last night until that flapping skin of a cunt had left him hooked to his bed posts, which by the way he had to replace soon because he had broken them in two. It was a shame because he liked that headboard. It came with the bed and he had paid good money for it. He supposed that getting back his computers and phones was worth the damage. He had taken those things from the people he had killed in the past few months. People he thought deserved what they got. He never took a life that he felt wasn't already wasted. Those people he'd pick up at the bars. What was their life going to be like ten years down the line? Those people desperately searching for themselves when they should know that what matters most was already there, but no, they had to want more.
The girl who's father wouldn't give her a new car for her birthday.
The boy who'd never come to terms with his sexuality.
The man that will still be chasing the rock star dream fifteen years down the road, not ever holding a serious job and just getting older, and more destitute, these were people who needed to be put out of their misery. They may not have known it at that moment, but Malcolm did.
He felt sorry for his roommate Harold. The man sucked up to a boss who would never give him the time of day. Four years of college to be under somebody who abuses him. Not only was his boss this person to him, everyone was. Malcolm could generally make him do what he wanted to if he asked the right way. Asking nice never worked, he had to make his point loud and clear. Sometimes by threats, other times by raising his voice, but always with animosity.
Malcolm looked at the dishes in the sink. His anger replaced by an emptiness, and emptiness he wanted so badly to fill. He thought all the time about how he was serving humanity by doing what he does in which he does to survive. But he would never admit to himself that he was on a quest himself. All these people, these sad machines, they were merely stepping stones in his own eternal struggle.
Eternal... If hell didn't freeze and the creek didn't rise, he was going to be around for a long time. Both a blessing and a curse, he, for better or worse, was who he was. He had never come to terms with his own self let alone anything that had happened that hot July night three hundred years ago. He never asked to become such a monster. Death was a luxury he didn't have, so he dealt it out to those deserving and in need of it.
Sweet release...
Sweet release from this horrible world that would just set them into an endless cycle of neediness and pain. He only got the most deserving. It was his gift. He was a good man for doing what he does.
Right?
Malcolm was sitting on the black futon watching the movie Sunshine with Cillian Murphy on Blu-Ray when he heard the front door's lock shift. After some fumbling and a curse, it opened and Harold spilled through, holding a big brown moving box with the words “Denver Liquors” printed on it in big green letters.
Malcolm liked how the short red headed boy looked. So professional looking and sharply dressed. If he was gay or bi he would have crossed the boundaries so very long ago.
He wondered if his asshole would stretch to accommodate him.
Another thought entered his mind at that moment as well, he was hoping that the box was full of hard spirits. Being drunk is legal for a reason, because it simply rocks.
"Hey man!" The ginger said, placing the box on the kitchen floor. Malcolm put his beer down on the carpet. He stood up and stretched, touching the manila stucco ceiling as he did.
"What's up bra?" Malcolm said as he walked over to pat his roommate on the shoulders. Harold took off his black rimmed glasses and smiled, fully showing off his coffee stained teeth.
"Guess what I've got?" He said with a smirk.
"I can only guess." Malcolm walked back over to the futon where his beer sat and picked it up. He took a long sip of his Coors and waited impatiently for an answer.
This had better be good.
That was when he heard it. A tiny squeak of a meow. Malcolm's heart sank. "Man!" He shouted. "We can't keep cats in this place! Are you crazy!?" He walked over toward his friend and roommate and was honestly about to punch him straight in the face until Harold went the box and pulled out a pure grey kitten. Malcolm looked at it with an empty feeling inside his bones. Harold extended the kitten forward for him to take and he held it in mid air for the longest time before Malcolm took the bait.
“Well?” Harold laughed as he shoved the kitten toward Malcolm’s face. He handed it to Malcolm and he was momentarily speechless. The little guy was already purring in his hands.
"I..." He was at a loss for words. "He is kind of cute.” Malcolm began cradling it in his arms. “I have to admit that." The kitten began licking his hand, tickling him as it did so.
"See, I told you!" Harold said with satisfaction. He reached down and picked up a grey and white kitten and held it like a new born baby. "I'm calling this one Fred."
Malcolm looked down at the creature in his arms. "We can't keep these man, you know it's a two hundred and fifty dollar deposit to have these things here."
"It's all cool man! I've already paid for mine. You just have to pay for yours." He looked down at his kitten and back up toward Malcolm again. "That is unless of course you don't want to keep yours?"
"Man..." Malcolm protested. "This is not fair!" The kitten had already fallen asleep in his arms when he was just about to put it back in the box. He couldn't for the life of him put it down. It was a part of him now. He was his and his was he. This made Malcolm feel like he had been cornered. It was like he was suffering a sort of Stockholm Syndrome of fluff.
"Well I think you like him!" Harold laughed. "What are you going to call yours?"
Malcolm gave him a look of disgust, but it quickly dissipated when he looked down at the tiny creature sleeping and purring on his elongated arms. A wave of peace fell over him and he said softly "Fido." He looked up and for the first time in a long while he had a sparkle in his bright green eyes. "His name is Fido." He smiled and looked back down at the kitten laying on his two appendages.
"I thought you'd see it my way!" Harold lightly punched Malcolm's right arm in jest. "I knew you'd fall in love right away!"
"This doesn't mean that the situation isn't any less irritating." He said as he gently placed the kitten back into the box on the kitchen floor. When he looked inside he saw three other ones writhing around aimlessly. "What the hell is this?" He asked, his anger making a comeback.
"Well..." Harold had to think for a second for the right words. He knew when Malcolm was about to explode and this was certainly one of those times. "They were sort of a package deal."
"What the fuck man!?" Malcolm shouted.
"Hey man! Don't yell at me!" Harold shielded his face with his hands, expecting another blow like the last time. "The guy said he was going to bring them to a shelter! You know what happens when they can't find homes for animals in a shelter? They kill them!"
"I could kill you right this minute!" Malcolm raised his fist but thought better of it. He instead put his hands to his side and counted backwards from ten, breathing in slowly and heavily as he did so.
"Please don't be mad man." Harold pleaded, but the relaxation exercise wasn't working for Malcolm.
Malcolm immediately brought up an old wound. "Do you know when you left last you left an entire sink of dirty dishes?" He motioned toward the sink, which was by now clear of debris and had been scrubbed clean.
"Yeah man, I'm sorry! I got called away for work on short notice!"
The excuse only made Malcolm more infuriated. "Do you know that it was YOUR job to do those damn things?" He grabbed Harold's scrawny arm and led him to the dishwasher. He opened the dishwasher door and pointed toward the sparkling white porcelain dishes. "I did the fucking dishes! Your job! I did these goddamn fucking dishes!" He pulled Harold's arm hard and brought his roommate to his knees. His anger was so red hot at the moment that even Malcolm honestly did not know what he was going to do next.
"Please man! You're hurting me!" Harold pleaded.
"Fuck you!" Malcolm shouted in his face, spitting as he did so. Harold saw that Malcolm's eyes had gone from a light green to a dark, pitch black maroon. He had never been more scared in his life.
"Please! Don't hurt me Malcolm! I'm sorry!" Harold’s arm was being twisted to the breaking point at his elbow.
"Do you know that you are wasting away your life as well?" Malcolm's canines began to grow. "Do you know that you will always be stuck in the same old cycle of being the subservient fool!?
"Please Malcolm!" Harold’s eyes were tearing up fast and what little color he had had had melted away from his already pale face. Malcolm let go of Harold’s right arm and grabbed a hold of Harold's neck with both of his massive hands, and lunged for his jugular, taking sick pleasure in his roommate's sudden and intense pain.
His blood tasted sweet.
He must have eaten some fruit that morning.
Chapter 3: Lazy daze...
Josh sat on the couch in the living room that he shared with two other men. He had just shot up and was feeling particularly woozy. If he hadn't sat down he would've surely fell on the floor and passed out. He was watching the news on the old school big screen box set TV. Something about some kid being hit by a car and only coming out with a few minor bruises or something. It was just something to pass the time while he nodded out.
Next up after the commercial was a human interest story about some stupid high school football player who was making the ranks with an artificial left foot.
Should of gotten some coke to go along with this shit, he thought. That would have made all this just THAT much more enjoyable.
The news is awesome while you are high. Everyone just seems so serious.
The first of his roommates wasn't expected for another three hours or so. He was all alone in his oblivion. The colors on the screen blurred together and the TV set had a white aura around it. It made Josh want to go up and hug it.
After a few more minutes of idling he decided to give his girlfriend a call. Cindy was an amazing girl mainly because she had a car and liked to do dope with him on the weekends. She was very understanding of his habit and even loaned him money for it on occasion. The only thing she wasn't good for was support when he needed to actually go get the shit. That's where she drew the line. She had told him that she did not like the idea of going to jail any time soon so whatever he was doing downtown would be his fight and his fight alone.
Still though, nothing's hotter than a chick who bangs with you.
Bang...
Josh was suddenly very horny which is also a great motivator and grabbed his phone from the coffee table. He looked into his contacts and found her, hit send, and listened to her Pink Floyd ringtone while he waited for her to answer.
"Hello Josh." She sounded perturbed.
"Hello lovely." Josh made a kissing sound into the phone. "How are you tonight?"
"I'm good, almost done with work here." Josh could hear people in the background at the restaurant she was a server at, The Cheesecake Factory. Josh personally anything with a cream based sauce.
"When you get off would you like to come over?"
"I'm not really in the mood to stick anything in my arm."
Josh sighed. "Well actually I have nothing right now. I was just wondering if I could see you?"
There was a pause on the other line. "I'm also not really in the mood to be intimate with anyone right now."
Josh's heart sank deep into his chest cavity, somewhere below his lungs. "We don't have to fuck you know."
"Josh..." Cindy tried to find the right words. "I've had a super shitty day and I really need some time to myself." Cindy sighed loudly. "Fine Josh." She said. "I'll be over there when I get off in thirty minutes."
It worked! Josh smiled. "I'll prepare us some microwave dinners."
"Actually I've already eaten."
"Oh..." Josh was disappointed. "Well alright. Maybe we can watch a movie?"
"Sure Josh. Whatever. I need to get back to work now OK?"
"OK." Josh hung up on her and placed his smart phone back onto the coffee table. Since he wasn't going to get any tonight (that he knew of) he might as well get more fucked up.
He knew that he wasn’t the average junkie because Josh had been reading up on this. When you get an energy boost from downers (heroin, oxycodone, benzodiazepines) and fucking fall asleep while taking uppers (cocaine, meth, speed) then you had a paradoxical system. Meaning that what a drug is supposed to do doesn't happen. Instead you have the opposite effect and it's, well, it's pretty sweet if you asked him.
Josh figured that he would do the last of his heroin before Cindy got there, although a stupid idea seeing as it was the last he would get for another day, it was a little white lie that harmed no one. She didn't want to do the shit anyways so why should he have offered it to her? Being a junky made you selfish most of the time, it not all of it.
And still, he bought it. Why should he share?
Selfish…
Josh headed toward his bed room. Once there he closed and locked his door. The dresser over by the mattress on the floor (which took up most of the room) held his screwdriver. He took it out and went over to the heating vent on the floor. He unscrewed the nuts and took off the face, revealing a cavity where his works sat. They were in a brown cloth bag and included everything you needed to prep heroin and other drugs:
1: Syringe - 1cc diabetic insulin needle
2: Bic lighter - Other lighters are good for the purpose but for the best results you use a Bic. It's not too hot nor is the flame too low to do any good. It's just the right amount of volume to heat up the next article of works.
3: Metal spoon - You use this to melt down the heroin. It can be a bitch if you are caught with a burnt spoon because, you can always say you are diabetic and get away with having a syringe, but having a blackened metal spoon on your person only pointed to one possiblity.
4: Cotton - Q-tips are good for this purpose because they are not too fluffy where bits will come apart and give you cotton fever, which is where a bit of stray debris gets into the needle and goes into your blood stream, causing terrible chest pains and sometimes knocking you completely flat. As much as it hurts, it rarely causes anything more than great discomfort.
5: Bottle of water - You need water to as a medium in which to melt down the heroin and turn it into liquid form. It's preferable to use bottled water since it's been filtered but Josh has been so desperate before that he's used toilet water from said bathroom he was fixing up in. It's really not as bad as you think since you heat the stuff until it boils, effectively killing off any pathogens that may be present.
Last but not least...
6: The heroin - Almost always found wrapped in black trash bag plastic in a tightly wound ball (at least in Denver). These are called balloons. There are generally three to five layers and it takes a skilled hand / sometimes mouth, to open them quickly.
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