Channels: A Collection, page 13
After a few moments of his grunts and thrusting, I felt his grip tighten on my hips, and knew he was about to blow. He let out a loud growl as he shot his load inside me.
Winded, he collapsed on top of me. I could feel his sweaty torso against my skin and could smell the combination of his body odor and bad breath as he breathed heavily, his face just beside mine.
Not only did I want to get home and bathe in bleach, I also wanted to give myself a bleach enema. Everything about this man disgusted me, and the thought of his spunk sitting somewhere in my lower GI, just waiting to be absorbed, made my skin crawl.
I let out a sigh of relief when he finally pulled out. “Alright, bubba. Let’s get that sweet little ass back home,” he said, putting on his pants and making his way back to the driver’s seat.
I wiped the tears from my eyes and slowly put on my clothes. He had already started driving before I was fully dressed.
I sat there in his passenger seat with the window down, appreciative of the fresh air that came in and gave me a bit of a break from the smell inside the truck.
He dropped me off a little over an hour later. I had him let me out about a mile from my house, not wanting him to know where I lived. The last thing I needed was another Jerry stalking around.
“Thanks for letting me plant my load in that sweet little ass of yours,” he said, tossing a card toward me. “Give me a call if you ever want another one.”
He winked at me before driving off. I waited until he was out of sight before I began walking. I wanted to run, but Stinky McFuckface had left me too sore for that, so I settled for walking at as brisk a pace as my body would allow.
When I finally made it home, I immediately jumped into the shower. I didn’t even take off my clothes before getting in. I stripped them off as the water fell on me. I used most of a bottle of body wash, dousing myself in the soap and scrubbing my entire body vigorously with a luffa until I finally felt somewhat clean.
The sun was beginning to rise as I carried my couch out into the yard. Heading to my shed, I fueled up my chainsaw and carried it out to the couch where I began cutting it into small pieces. Piling all the pieces together, I doused them with gasoline, lit a match, and tossed it in the pile. I stood there, extinguisher at the ready as I watched my couch burn down to ash until a few metal spring beds were all that remained. I then went back inside to clean up the little bit of Jerry’s blood that had spilled on my floor.
A few days later, I was in my living room, sitting on the couch that had just been delivered, and I couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. I spent the next few days feeling sad and depressed but couldn’t figure out why.
Was it guilt? No, it wasn’t that.
The more I tried to figure it out, the more Jerry’s face kept popping up in my mind.
Did I miss him? Did I miss the attention he was giving me?
I tried to brush it off, thinking I was crazy for even considering it. However, as the next few days passed, I began to realize that it was true. I did miss the attention Jerry gave me, the hope in his eyes as he looked at me, the combination of love and obsession he held for me.
A week had passed since the night I killed him and ditched his body, and all I could think about was seeing him again. I spent the day pacing back and forth in my house, trying to push away my desire to see him again, but it never wavered.
By the time the sun began to set, I had made up my mind. I waited until it had gotten dark and headed back out towards the truck stop. I knew the chances of him still being there were slim.
Someone had to have found him by now, right?
To my surprise, they hadn’t. I came to the end of the overgrown dirt road to find his car still sitting there. I ran to the driver’s side door and opened it, immediately reaching down and pulling the trunk release.
Opening the trunk, I stared down at Jerry’s body. The smell was unbearable, but I couldn’t help smiling as I looked him over.
Pulling the fob from my pocket, I pushed the trunk release for my own car. Upon hearing it pop open, I bent down and grabbed Jerry’s body from his trunk. It was a struggle to carry his body from car to car, but I managed it fairly well.
Once I had him secure back there, I started my car up and headed back home.
I pulled into my driveway with a smile on my face and carried him through the threshold like he was my new bride.
“Welcome home, Jerry,” I said, laying his body on my new couch.
I sat beside him as I watched TV, looking over at him repeatedly, pretending I could still hear his voice begging me to love him the way he loved me.
My hand eventually made its way up his leg, and I began to feel an erection grow. I rolled him onto his belly and, using the same knife I killed him with, began cutting away his clothes.
The smell was pungent, and his decaying skin had a slimy shimmer to it, but neither deterred me from what I wanted to do.
That night, I fucked him again, just as I had a few weeks before. As I thrust myself inside him, I imagined him moaning with pleasure. I knew it was what he would have wanted.
Can't Fight This Feeling
The snow was coming down like crazy as Kyle made his way up the driveway towards the house. There was so much accumulation on the ground, almost up to his knees. The only way he could tell he was still on the driveway was the rows of trees on either side acting like a barrier or wall.
With the bitter, cold wind blowing in his face, his cheeks began to sting. He could feel them getting more and more red with each step. His eyes were watering to the point where, by the time he was just a few steps away from the front porch, the whole house looked like a light blue blur before him. The only thing that kept him from giving up was the smoke coming from the chimney and the lights showing through the windows, making it clear that someone was indeed home.
After slowly making his way up the porch steps and under the awning, he kicked the snow off his boots and approached the door. The wooden floorboards on the porch creaked with every step as if they were groaning in protest of the cold weather along with him.
Taking a deep breath, Kyle raised his arm, made a fist, and knocked on the door. He gave three brief raps and put his ungloved hand back in his pocket.
Through the stained-glass window that lined the center of the front door, he saw movement somewhere towards the rear of the house. He sighed with relief at knowing his mission wasn’t a lost cause.
There was a bit more movement before the shadow in the distance finally began approaching the door. The floorboards inside the house groaned as the man inside approached the door, though not as loudly as the ones on the porch had.
Kyle anticipated the rush of warm air that would hit him when the door opened. He imagined the man inside inviting him in, and the relief he would feel as the heat inside the house wrapped around him like a warm blanket.
The shadow, now fully covering the stained-glass portion of the door, stood there for a moment. He saw man inside attempting to look through the glass for a moment before he finally heard the clicking sound of a lock being unlocked.
The door opened to reveal a man who looked to be in his mid-forties. His light brown hair was cut in a military style high-and-tight, and he had a few days’ worth of beard growth, giving him the look of a serviceman who had been out on leave for a few days. His eyes, however, were what really caught Kyle’s attention. They carried a tired look, though not the kind one would typically get from a long day of physical activity. No, this man’s eyes had the look of someone who was mentally and emotionally exhausted.
“Can I help you?” The man asked, a slight smile beginning to form on his lips as though he was feigning being friendly when he really just wanted to be left along.
“Sorry to bother you. My name is Kyle. My car slid off the road and into a ditch back there,” he paused, gesturing towards the road. “I was wondering if I could use your phone to call for a tow,” he paused again, pulling his cell phone from his pocket, “I’d do it myself, but there’s no service out here.”
The man’s look turned to one of concern, “Yeah, that’s one of the downsides to living in the country. Cell service is just about non-existent unless you find the right spot.”
They stood there for a moment before Kyle spoke up again. “So, can I use your phone?”
The man shook his head in the manner that people typically do when they lose their train of thought.
“Oh! Of course! Come on in,” he said, stepping back and gesturing for Kyle to enter.
“Sorry about that. It’s been a long week. You must be freezing.”
Kyle nodded as he stepped inside. The house had a rustic look; hardwood floors, wood paneled walls, and furniture that looked like it belonged in a vacation cabin. There was a pine scent that touched Kyle’s nose, barely noticeable over the smell of the burning wood in the fireplace. He assumed it to be a leftover Christmas candle burning somewhere in the house.
He turned to find the man standing in front of the now closed door. Approaching him, the man held out his hand, “I’m Warren, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kyle said, shaking the man’s hand.
“Go ahead and stand in front of the fire if you want. Warm up for a bit. I’ll go and grab the phone.”
“Do you have wi-fi or something? I can just connect and call from my own phone if you’d prefer that.”
“No. Sorry. No wi-fi here. I prefer to stay disconnected for the most part. Closest I can get to being off grid,” he said with a chuckle.
Kyle smiled and turned to face the fire as the man stepped out of the room. The heat coming from the flames felt amazing on his cold skin. His shivering was just about gone by the time Warren returned to the room carrying a cordless phone. He turned to face him but could tell by his expression that something was wrong.
“Bad news, Kyle. Phone lines are dead.”
“Fuck,” Kyle said, covering his mouth before continuing, “sorry.”
Warren let out a light chuckle, “No, I’d say a ‘fuck’ is warranted in this scenario.”
“Okay, well, sorry to bother you. I can head back out to the car and try to flag someone down.”
“You and I both know you don’t want to go back out there. At least not right now.”
Kyle turned to look out the front window with dread in his eyes.
“Tell you what. Why don’t you just stay here for a while? Wait out this storm. If the phone lines aren’t back up by then, I can drive you into town.”
“You sure?” Kyle asked. “I don’t want to disturb you or your family.”
Warren waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “It’s no problem at all. And besides, they aren’t home right now anyway. The wife and son went to visit her family for the weekend.”
“You didn’t go with them?”
Warren gave Kyle an almost frustrated look.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.”
“No. It’s fine. Just a sore subject. I haven’t always gotten along with her family, so sometimes I just prefer to stay here for the sake of peace. Besides, if I had gone with them, you’d be back out in that cold walking to your car right now.”
“Fair point,” Kyle said with a shrug.
“Since you’ll be staying here for a bit,” Warren said, approaching Kyle with his hand out, “Go ahead and give me your coat. Might as well make yourself comfortable.”
Nodding, Kyle removed his coat and handed it to Warren. He watched as Warren walked back to the foyer and hung the coat on the rack by the front door before pulling a key from his pocket and locking the deadbolt. It struck him as odd that Warren locked the door when there was almost no chance of anyone randomly showing up, but he knew that, for some people, things like that were a force of habit.
Turning back to face the fire, Kyle sat himself on the floor and began untying his boots.
“You can move a chair over towards the fire if you want to. I don’t expect you to sit on the floor to get warm.”
“Thanks.”
Kyle stood up and grabbed an old-fashioned armchair that sat in the corner of the room and positioned it in front of the fireplace. Sitting down, he extended his legs, letting the warmth of the fire caress his numb feet.
“Do you want something to eat? Some water?”
“Just water for now. Probably won’t have an appetite until I warm up some more.”
Warren left the room for a moment and returned with a bottle of water. “I have some stuff I need to take care of upstairs. Just yell if you need anything.”
Kyle nodded and looked up at Warren. There was a nervous look in his eyes and he appeared to be sweating.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just been a mentally raining week is all. Just holler if you need anything.”
Turning, he left the room and began heading up the stairs.
Once he had sat in front of the fire long enough to start feeling hot, Kyle stood up and began walking around the room. He noticed a framed picture of a family on the wall. In the picture, there was what appeared to be a family, a mother, a father, and a son. The man in the photo wasn’t Warren, so Kyle just figured it must have been a picture of some relatives.
As he continued to pace the room, he noticed another framed picture on the opposite wall. This photo contained the same family as the other, only this one looked to be a few years after the first. This sparked his curiosity even more.
Stepping into the next room, Kyle flipped on the light switch. He was standing in the dining room. On the wall behind the head of the table was a large, framed family portrait. It was the same family as the other two photos and looked to be even more recent than the last one. His heart rate quickened even more.
Does this guy even live here? He wondered. He was acting kind of strange before he went upstairs.
With his curiosity getting the best of him, Kyle made his way back toward the stairs. He crept up them slowly, being as quiet as he could be. Once he had made it to the landing at the top, he turned to see light coming from below one of the doors in the hallway.
Staying as quiet as possible, he tiptoed down the hallway towards the door. Standing outside, he heard Warren talking. It was as though he was having a conversation with himself.
“It’ll be fine. Just let him stay until the storm is over, then drive him back into town.”
“No! That’s too long. He’ll know something is going on. He’ll know something isn’t right.”
“Just make him leave. You don’t have to let him stay. Remember why you’re here.”
“I know. I know. But I can’t just kick him out. That storm is bad, and he hasn’t done anything wrong. He doesn’t know the truth.”
“What if he’s one of them? What if he was sent here?”
Kyle stepped back from the door, his blood just as cold now as it had been when he was outside. This back-and-forth conversation Warren was having with himself was unhinged.
What is he talking about? One of them? One of who? What has he done?
The only thing Kyle knew for sure was that Warren didn’t live here. The pictures, along with the bathroom conversation told him that much.
But what happened to the family? Are they out of town? Did he kill them?
A million questions raced through Kyle’s mind as he slowly backed away from the bathroom, back towards the stairs.
He began sweating, his anxiety growing as he made his way back down the stairs. Once he reached the bottom, he ran back to the living room and put his boots back on, tying them as fast as he cold. He then made his way back to the front door, putting his coat on before turning the knob. Every part of his body prepared to run move as fast as it could as soon as it opened. Only, it didn’t open.
“Fuck!” Kyle cried out, staring at the deadbolt, knowing it required a key.
Thinking fast, he ran towards the back of the house, hoping to find a back door. Just as he made his way into the kitchen, he heard a noise that stopped him dead in his tracks. It sounded like muffled screaming.
“He- hello?”
He heard the screaming again, followed by a scraping sound coming from his left. Turning towards the sound, he saw a door. His eyes darted back and forth between the door to his left, and the door on the other side of the room that lead outside.
His mind, faced with a moral conundrum, began to race to the point where he felt overwhelmed. In a panic, he went back and forth, trying to decide if he should help the person on the other side of the door, or get outside and call the cops as soon as he could.
He heard the muffled screaming once more, and he knew what he needed to do. Taking a deep breath, he faced the door to his left and reached out for the knob. It turned with ease, and the door began to open. This time, he heard more than one voice making a muffled scream.
He raced down the stairs to find the three people from the framed portraits, each bound to a chair and gagged. The father looked a bit older, his hair a bit grayer than in the most recent photo. The mother was the same, hits of crow’s feet forming around her eyes. The son looked to be in his late teens now, probably college age.
Their eyes went wide at the sight of him, and he raced over towards the mother, “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”
She nodded, and he got down to his knees to begin untying her. He struggled with the knot, desperately trying to get it undone. His sweaty hands slipped, unable to get a good grip on the rope.
“I can’t get it. I’m going to need to grab a knife or something,” he said, turning to head back up the stairs. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Warren standing at the base of the stairs, a baseball bat in his hand.
“It’s not polite to snoop, Kyle. You shouldn’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Before Kyle could respond, Warren swung the bat. It made a knocking sound as it struck the side of his head. He saw stars for a moment before falling to the ground. The muffled screams that surrounded him began to fade as everything went dark.
