Patricia Goody found her name extremely amusing, since she was anything but good. Hanged for being a witch in Massachusetts in 1690, she, and the rest of her village, had discovered she was an Immortal. Driven from her home, she spent the next 200 years roaming the country, spending time with various Indian tribes and learning the skills she needed to make something of herself -- and to take heads. She'd even spent some time in California as a saloon girl just for kicks. Basically, she did whatever she found to be the most amusing at the time.
She's spent the last several months posing as a hooker around here; without fear of disease or pregnancy, why not? Of course some of the guys who pick her up are real scumbuckets, and she doesn't have any qualms about doing away with them when it suits her.
Tonight she felt like hitting the bars so she did, and now she's been playing pool and drinking her ass off in this bar when she sees him come in, and there's an instant smirk on her face. She saunters up to him before he sees her and steps right into his path.
“Patricia….” Grabbing the drink from her hand and drinking it all down in one shot, Victor drops the glass onto the bar counter and scoops her up, flinging her over his shoulder swinging her around amused at the situation. “Good to see you still have your head. ‘for now,’ Victor thinks to himself as he plants his lips to her with a sexual, borderline feral growl.
“What brings you to New York or should we forego the questions and just do what we do best,” he asks amused as he sets her down without ceremony.
Flushed from her spin, she pokes him in the chest. "Don't call me Patricia. You know I hate that. And talk is cheap, you know that too. Let's go somewhere and later on you can ask me all the questions in the fucking world you want. And you're lucky I'm in this kind of mood or I'd make you buy me another drink first."
"Not even when I am screaming out the name Patricia at the height of passion," Victor jokes casually, laying a fifty on he counter, “Whiskey bottle now," he growls with a sweet smile, giving the bartender a vicious look that brooks no argument. The man gives Victor the largest, most expensive, unopened bottle of Whiskey in the house, a two hundred bottle to be exact before scurrying away and pretending that these two are simply not here.
"I'm sick of my hell hole, so yours it is, Victor." Patty smiles at him but there is a part of her wondering if she'll get a chance for his head this time. It's not that she hates him, but she also knows that deep beneath their bantering and sexual attraction, neither one of them would quibble at taking the other's head if given a chance.
"Long Island it is then. Better make it two bottles," Victor grins and slams down another fifty, coughing to get the barkeep's attention for another bottle. It is going to be fun when Patty realizes it will not be something luxurious. She might even get the joke.
"Ready when you are,” he adds, bottles held at their neck in one hand and the nape of Patty's neck held in the other as the head out of the bar and toward his vehicle, a '71 now beat up tan Chevy Mustang.
"You know, Vic, with all that money you'd think you'd find some decent wheels. Or at least kill someone who has them. How hard is it to steal a good car?" Patty grins at him and gets in, already excited about what's to come, but on guard as well as she always is around other immortals. Even ones she's known for years. She just doesn't trust them. At all.
“You know Patty, why bother with that expensive crap? I am only going to destroy it anyway,” he grins, opening one Whiskey bottle and handing the other to her. Taking a large swallow first, he bellows loudly, “up for a bit of Drunk Driving m’dear?”
"Fuck yeah!" She shouts just as loud, twisting her own bottle open and glugging several swallows before she hops into his car. Once there she downs a bit more of the whiskey. "I was already well on my way to getting drunk before you showed up. Now, thanks to you, I'll be wasted in no time. Cheers!" Patty holds her bottle up to clink against his.
Clinking the glasses, Victor pulls out of the parking lot burning rubber as he drives with one hand on the wheel, on hand palming at her crotch and a bottle of Whiskey between his legs resting against his erection. Now, if he had choices to make, Victor will not remove his hand from Patty, so when another drink is needed, he removes his hand from the steering wheel as they go full speed ahead toward the expressways.
The Commack Road was different was different however, with Victor and Patty seeing only two or three drivers in the oncoming traffic. Two or three drivers that now probably wish they had stayed at home as Victor careened into their line of fire on purpose several time, driving at least one car off the road.
“Hmmm, was time for me to get a new car anyway. If you are still around, you pick the damn thing,” Victor laughs as he pulls onto Old Country Road, finally stopping at the same clearing that him and Rory had their confrontation not too long ago.
“After you,” he looks solemnly to Patty as he makes an exaggerated bow, enjoying the look of bewilderment upon her face when she first spies the abandoned facilities that he has brought her to tonight.
"What the fuck?" She stares out of the car window, then turns to glower at him. "You son of a bitch. Is this all some set-up to take my head? Get me drunk and make me come on the way over here then take my head? Man, I should have known. You haven't changed a bit, have you? Still the same asshole you always were, whether you buy me good whiskey or not."
"Ever fuck in a church before Patty? There's a small building up ahead that was used for religious services," Victor cuts through the bullshit before taking down half of his bottle.
"If I had wanted your head, I would have taken it and you before leaving the city and I wouldn't have been picky about the order in which I did it," he laughs, giving a smartass grin as he lights a cigarette.
It takes all of Patty's willpower to keep from yanking the cigarette out of his mouth and burning him with it.
"Like I said, you haven't changed a bit. Still the same asshole you always were, whether you buy me good whiskey or not. Or bring me to a church to fuck."
Patty gets out of the car, chugging more of said whiskey as she does so. Despite his reassurance, she's still on guard, but then there's never a time that she's not except when she's out in the wilderness and no other humans are within miles.
"Well, come on. You just gonna sit in the fucking car all night or what?"
Getting out just as quickly and with even less grace, Victor catches up with Patty who has already started walking toward the church and throws an arm about her waist.
"But wouldn't it be even a little fun to fornicate in an institution's building that set you on the path to immortality by hanging you by your pretty little neck?"
"Oh, I never said it wouldn't be fun." Patty takes another drink. "Is there an altar? Because if there is, let's do it on that. And in the pulpit. And the choir loft. If you think you can handle that many times, of course. I don't know how your stamina is these days. You are pretty fucking old, after all."
Laughing loudly at the age remark, Victor smacks Patty soundly on the ass as the make their way inside, “Youth; no respect for their elders. Pulpit first it is then Patty. A nice hard sermon is in order I believe. It’s a non-denominational setting, so there are really no confessional. A pity, as I am curious what sort of sins you’d confess to you while my cock is up your ass.”
She's spent the last several months posing as a hooker around here; without fear of disease or pregnancy, why not? Of course some of the guys who pick her up are real scumbuckets, and she doesn't have any qualms about doing away with them when it suits her.
Tonight she felt like hitting the bars so she did, and now she's been playing pool and drinking her ass off in this bar when she sees him come in, and there's an instant smirk on her face. She saunters up to him before he sees her and steps right into his path.
"Well well. Funny meeting you here."
Reply
“What brings you to New York or should we forego the questions and just do what we do best,” he asks amused as he sets her down without ceremony.
Just what he needs.
Reply
Reply
"Yes, your hell hole or mine Patri...Patty?"
Reply
Reply
"Ready when you are,” he adds, bottles held at their neck in one hand and the nape of Patty's neck held in the other as the head out of the bar and toward his vehicle, a '71 now beat up tan Chevy Mustang.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
The Commack Road was different was different however, with Victor and Patty seeing only two or three drivers in the oncoming traffic. Two or three drivers that now probably wish they had stayed at home as Victor careened into their line of fire on purpose several time, driving at least one car off the road.
“Hmmm, was time for me to get a new car anyway. If you are still around, you pick the damn thing,” Victor laughs as he pulls onto Old Country Road, finally stopping at the same clearing that him and Rory had their confrontation not too long ago.
“After you,” he looks solemnly to Patty as he makes an exaggerated bow, enjoying the look of bewilderment upon her face when she first spies the abandoned facilities that he has brought her to tonight.
Reply
Reply
"If I had wanted your head, I would have taken it and you before leaving the city and I wouldn't have been picky about the order in which I did it," he laughs, giving a smartass grin as he lights a cigarette.
"I should cut back on these..."
Reply
"Like I said, you haven't changed a bit. Still the same asshole you always were, whether you buy me good whiskey or not. Or bring me to a church to fuck."
Patty gets out of the car, chugging more of said whiskey as she does so. Despite his reassurance, she's still on guard, but then there's never a time that she's not except when she's out in the wilderness and no other humans are within miles.
"Well, come on. You just gonna sit in the fucking car all night or what?"
Reply
Getting out just as quickly and with even less grace, Victor catches up with Patty who has already started walking toward the church and throws an arm about her waist.
"But wouldn't it be even a little fun to fornicate in an institution's building that set you on the path to immortality by hanging you by your pretty little neck?"
Reply
Reply
Laughing loudly at the age remark, Victor smacks Patty soundly on the ass as the make their way inside, “Youth; no respect for their elders. Pulpit first it is then Patty. A nice hard sermon is in order I believe. It’s a non-denominational setting, so there are really no confessional. A pity, as I am curious what sort of sins you’d confess to you while my cock is up your ass.”
Reply
Leave a comment