Peanut Butter #1, Chocolate Gelato #3 + fresh peaches + gummy bunnies
Story: Agents of Fate
Title: Pick Your Poison
Prompts: Peanut Butter #1: fire, Chocolate Gelato #3 + fresh peaches (Don't let mundane considerations get in your way.) + gummy bunnies (500themes #2: terror in the night)
Rating: R for violent imagery
Words: 2400
Summary: A new story for Peanut Butter Week! :D Meet Indy Meyer. She's normal. Really. West McCall seems to think otherwise but he's the creeper trying to pick her up at a bar by talking about smashing a man's skull in with a mallet so what does he know? As one might expect, this is going to be a story just rife with dark humor, emphasis on dark.
Never again, I promised myself. Never again would I go out to the bars with my coworker, Mandy. I loved the girl, I really did, but she had the attention span of a gnat. One minute she's talking to me at the table we snagged, the next she's left me in favor of some guy with more neck than brains. She wasn't even with the steroid-cruncher any longer. She was grinding on the small dance floor at the back of the bar with a guy who hadn't chosen a Mandy-proof wardrobe. I'm just saying, if I had a piece of anatomy that was so blatantly obvious when I got happy, I wouldn't wear pants that tight.
I had been summarily ditched. It felt wrong to hold a table just for myself so I made my way back to the bar to order another drink. Earlier this evening Mandy had been lecturing me about how I wasted my money buying my own drinks when I could easily lure a guy with a bankroll. "You're blond and you've got boobs. That's really all it takes to get a drink," she assured me. "Of course, the second drink may be a bit more difficult for you to finagle because you'll have talked to him by then and we all know how well that usually turns out."
We did all know how well that usually turned out. Hence why I buy my own drinks. I don't think of it as wasting money so much as saving dignity.
I was keeping one eye out for Mandy and one on the bartender working his way to this side of the bar, when a new problem caught my eye. This was a bar a bit off the beaten tourist path so the crowd here was local and of a manageable size. But I think even if this was the most popular nightclub in all of New Orleans, this asshat would still manage to make himself heard. He was alternately yelling at the football game on the tv and arguing with the two men beside him.
This guy was obnoxious, rude, and just downright annoying. The people around him were glaring at him but no one would say anything to the stranger. I felt bad for his waitress, who got molested every time she got within pinching distance. The muscle at the pool table happened to be that particular waitress' brother, and he looked ready to beat the shit out of the stranger. I didn't consider myself to be a violent person but I found myself turning around so I could watch the fight that was inevitably going to break out. This guy deserved to get his ass handed to him. I knew him; everyone did. The loud callous type that was incapable of caring for anyone but himself. He was a blight on humanity; the one that ruined it for everyone else. Him I wouldn't mind seeing get taught a lesson. And the brother looked like he was on the verge of obliging me.
I could see it already. The stranger was going to slap the waitress' ass the next time she was forced to go over there and that would be the brother's breaking point. He had a pool cue, he'd definitely take that over there with him when he went to confront the stranger. The stranger wouldn't take well to being told to step off, that kind never did, and he'd say something. It would be the brother's chance, and I knew he would take it. Punch him in the face, maybe jab the pool cue in his stomach. It would deteriorate quickly after that. Assholes as big as the stranger had been in enough fights to know what they were doing, but the brother would be out for blood. There'd be punches, kicks, chokeholds. Break his nose, knock out his teeth, knee his balls.
Snap the ribs one by one like twigs. Watch the heart flutter for the last time. Cut it so carefully from its cage. Light it on fire, watch it burn, feel the blood burn, let it all burn-
"Me, I'd smash his skull in."
I jumped like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. A man I didn't recognize was standing beside me, leaning back against the bar and watching the tense scene as avidly as I had been. He wasn't exactly hot but he had a body worth a second look and thick dark hair worn a shade too long. And I was pretty sure he might be insane.
"What did you just say?"
He motioned to the stranger. "I'd smash his skull in. The pool cue might be able to do it but that eight ball would be my personal preference. Or a mallet. Versatile tool, the mallet." He looked at me then and smiled. "What about you?"
I stared at him open-mouthed. Yeah, definitely insane. I said the only thing I could think of, "That's your idea of a good pickup line?"
He laughed and turned around so he couldn't get distracted by the stranger. "Maybe not for most girls, but for you..." he trailed off with a smiling shrug.
Now what the hell did that mean? I looked like the kind of girl that got turned on by mallets and brain matter? Great. That explained a lot about my exes then. "You don't know me."
"Maybe not," he conceded. He looked at me and there was no hint of a smile on his face to lighten the intensity in his eyes. "But I know that expression you were just wearing. If you didn't do it with a mallet, then what did you kill him with in your head? Oh, here comes the bartender. What are you drinking?"
"7 and 7," I said automatically. Truth was, I was shaken to the core. I'm normal, I swear I am. A bit more cynical than most, perhaps, but I wasn't a bad person. It's just ever since I'd hit puberty I'd had these...flashes. Not with everyone, not with most people, actually. But sometimes a jerk, a real scumbag, would cross my path and then I was imagining things that normal people never thought to imagine. Normal people imagined kicking their douchebag boss in the balls. I imagined sawing off a stranger's head and hanging him upside down by his feet so the blood would drain out of his body before I dismembered him.
I didn't do it, of course. Nor would I ever do it. I got squeamish when I had to harm anything larger than a small spider. These random thoughts were the most violence I would ever let myself indulge in, and I shook myself out of those pretty damn fast. I'd never given any hint of what I was thinking away before now, and no one before had ever had a clue that I was capable of such dark thoughts. Just this man. "Who are you?"
"West McCall."
I blinked. "West? Like the direction?"
"Yep. And no, I don't think North, South, or East are cute pet names for me. And you are?"
Okay, any girl with half an ounce of sense knows the two golden rules of Bar Survival: always watch your drink and never tell creepers your real name. I opened my mouth to tell him I was one of the ubiquitous Ashley's of the world. "Indy Meyer."
As soon as I heard what I'd just said my eyes widened. Why did I say that? I hadn't meant to. My brain told my mouth to say Ashley, and it's like my mouth gave my brain the finger and did its own thing. That was new.
As expected of most people when they heard my name, he asked, "Short for Indiana?"
"Yep, and if you offer to let me search for your Holy Grail, I’m going to punch you in the neck."
"I'm sensing that you've heard that one before." West smirked, "And you thought my pickup line was bad?"
"Your pickup line was terrible."
"Yeah but I get points for originality, right?"
"I don't work on a points system. It's pass or fail."
The bartender set our drinks down in front of West. He handed my glass over and tapped his own against it. "Here's to me passing."
No he hadn't. He'd failed utterly. But I was still standing here with him, carrying on a conversation and drinking the drink he bought me. There was something seriously wrong with this picture. On the other hand, I'd already talked to West and he had still bought me a drink so I suppose this counted as a second drink in terms of familiarity. It was farther than most men had gotten lately.
Strike that. There was nothing wrong with this picture. There was something wrong with me.
It was time to end this. "Look, West. It's been...interesting, but you are just too weird for me. For future reference, it's the killing thing."
"You did the same."
"I did not kill him!" I whispered urgently. "He's still alive and annoying the shit out of everyone in the bar."
"You did in here," he tapped his temple. "Just like I did."
"No, I didn't."
"Well, not just like I did. I've got a thing for blunt force trauma. What did you do?"
"Cut his heart and lit him on fire," I snapped back, then slapped my hand over my mouth. There it was again! I hadn't meant to say that! My plan had been to deny deny deny, then shut West down until he left in shame. But my mouth had just answered his question regardless of what I wanted it to do. What the hell was going on tonight?
"Really?" he said like we were talking about a very interesting book. He didn’t mention my hand-to-mouth move at all. "That wasn't what I expected."
My brow furrowed. "What did you expect?"
"A gun. Poison maybe. But your way is much more personal and bloody. You'd have to know what you're doing with a knife to pull that one off."
"I know knives. I went to cooking school," I explained off-handedly then smacked my forehead. "Oh my god, why am I still talking to you about this? You're crazy! You're making me crazy! I'm normal, I don't discuss murder with strangers. Thanks for the drink, but I'm leaving now. Don't follow me."
I ran away. That's the only way to describe my determined dash for the girl's bathroom. I hid in there because I didn't want to take the chance of him finding me again or following me if I left the bar. West had seemed like a normal guy except for that one thing, but it was a big thing.
I was contemplating the possibility of me shimmying through the tiny window when the door opened and Mandy rushed in. "Indy, are you alright? I saw you chatting up that cute guy at the bar, nice by the way, and then you just ran in here."
"That guy's crazy!" I hissed. Mandy didn't know about my flashes of temporary insanity, and I wasn't about to tell her.
"What do you mean, crazy?" She gasped. "Did he do something to your drink? Are you feeling okay?"
"No, not that. I'm fine. He's just nuts. He was talking creepy and it skeeved me out." I was relieved to know I could lie again without my mouth taking over. West hadn't skeeved me out. I had skeeved me out.
"Oh man. Do you want to get out of here?"
"Yeah, I'm ready to throw in the towel. I've got work tomorrow." Sure, I thought to myself. Justify it. Really I just wanted to run even further away from the uncomfortable realization that I had something in common with a madman.
Mandy nodded resolutely. "Alright, I'll check to make sure the coast is clear then I'll follow you back to your house."
Well, now I felt like a tool for making her leave too. "You don't have to do that. It was nothing really. I just freaked myself out."
"Bullshit," Mandy replied cheerfully. "You're the strongest woman I know, Indy. If you get freaked out, then it's not nothing."
Mandy poked her head out the bathroom then gave me the all clear. I kept an eye out while we worked our way to the door. West wasn't there any longer, and I noticed neither was the asshole stranger that had inadvertently gotten me into this mess. I wondered if the two disappearances were related. Logic said no, but I knew I'd be watching the news tomorrow morning for a murder-by-mallet.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
There was nothing here. No people, no land, no color, no sound, no thoughts.
I ran, trying to find something in this aloneness, anything. I couldn't hear my footsteps, couldn't feel the air rushing against my face, couldn't find anything because there was nothing at all here. I curled into a ball and cried at being so alone, except there was no sound.
This is what Chaos wants to do to the world.
I jerked up at the unexpected sound. There was a light in the blackness, a flame that twisted and danced though there was nothing making to do so.
What is this, I cry.
It's Nothing. The flame flickered up with the words. This is the work of Chaos, the enemy of Fate and of everything that exists. It hates order, and Nothing exists in disorder. This is what the world would be like if Chaos ran unchecked. Do you want this?
No! Of course not!
Then you must do your part. Fate must reign. Order must be maintained. You are the hand of Fate. Take up the flame and burn the Chaos away.
The fire blazed up. It engulfed me in flames, burning away my flesh and everything that I was. All I could do was scream, but there was nothing to hear me.
My screams woke me up. I sat up in bed, gasping for breath, tears streaming down my face. I still felt the pain, smelled my flesh burning.
It took a long time for reality to regain control, but finally I could stop the tears. I'd never had a dream that felt that real before. And, god willing, I never would again.
Title: Pick Your Poison
Prompts: Peanut Butter #1: fire, Chocolate Gelato #3 + fresh peaches (Don't let mundane considerations get in your way.) + gummy bunnies (500themes #2: terror in the night)
Rating: R for violent imagery
Words: 2400
Summary: A new story for Peanut Butter Week! :D Meet Indy Meyer. She's normal. Really. West McCall seems to think otherwise but he's the creeper trying to pick her up at a bar by talking about smashing a man's skull in with a mallet so what does he know? As one might expect, this is going to be a story just rife with dark humor, emphasis on dark.
Never again, I promised myself. Never again would I go out to the bars with my coworker, Mandy. I loved the girl, I really did, but she had the attention span of a gnat. One minute she's talking to me at the table we snagged, the next she's left me in favor of some guy with more neck than brains. She wasn't even with the steroid-cruncher any longer. She was grinding on the small dance floor at the back of the bar with a guy who hadn't chosen a Mandy-proof wardrobe. I'm just saying, if I had a piece of anatomy that was so blatantly obvious when I got happy, I wouldn't wear pants that tight.
I had been summarily ditched. It felt wrong to hold a table just for myself so I made my way back to the bar to order another drink. Earlier this evening Mandy had been lecturing me about how I wasted my money buying my own drinks when I could easily lure a guy with a bankroll. "You're blond and you've got boobs. That's really all it takes to get a drink," she assured me. "Of course, the second drink may be a bit more difficult for you to finagle because you'll have talked to him by then and we all know how well that usually turns out."
We did all know how well that usually turned out. Hence why I buy my own drinks. I don't think of it as wasting money so much as saving dignity.
I was keeping one eye out for Mandy and one on the bartender working his way to this side of the bar, when a new problem caught my eye. This was a bar a bit off the beaten tourist path so the crowd here was local and of a manageable size. But I think even if this was the most popular nightclub in all of New Orleans, this asshat would still manage to make himself heard. He was alternately yelling at the football game on the tv and arguing with the two men beside him.
This guy was obnoxious, rude, and just downright annoying. The people around him were glaring at him but no one would say anything to the stranger. I felt bad for his waitress, who got molested every time she got within pinching distance. The muscle at the pool table happened to be that particular waitress' brother, and he looked ready to beat the shit out of the stranger. I didn't consider myself to be a violent person but I found myself turning around so I could watch the fight that was inevitably going to break out. This guy deserved to get his ass handed to him. I knew him; everyone did. The loud callous type that was incapable of caring for anyone but himself. He was a blight on humanity; the one that ruined it for everyone else. Him I wouldn't mind seeing get taught a lesson. And the brother looked like he was on the verge of obliging me.
I could see it already. The stranger was going to slap the waitress' ass the next time she was forced to go over there and that would be the brother's breaking point. He had a pool cue, he'd definitely take that over there with him when he went to confront the stranger. The stranger wouldn't take well to being told to step off, that kind never did, and he'd say something. It would be the brother's chance, and I knew he would take it. Punch him in the face, maybe jab the pool cue in his stomach. It would deteriorate quickly after that. Assholes as big as the stranger had been in enough fights to know what they were doing, but the brother would be out for blood. There'd be punches, kicks, chokeholds. Break his nose, knock out his teeth, knee his balls.
Snap the ribs one by one like twigs. Watch the heart flutter for the last time. Cut it so carefully from its cage. Light it on fire, watch it burn, feel the blood burn, let it all burn-
"Me, I'd smash his skull in."
I jumped like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. A man I didn't recognize was standing beside me, leaning back against the bar and watching the tense scene as avidly as I had been. He wasn't exactly hot but he had a body worth a second look and thick dark hair worn a shade too long. And I was pretty sure he might be insane.
"What did you just say?"
He motioned to the stranger. "I'd smash his skull in. The pool cue might be able to do it but that eight ball would be my personal preference. Or a mallet. Versatile tool, the mallet." He looked at me then and smiled. "What about you?"
I stared at him open-mouthed. Yeah, definitely insane. I said the only thing I could think of, "That's your idea of a good pickup line?"
He laughed and turned around so he couldn't get distracted by the stranger. "Maybe not for most girls, but for you..." he trailed off with a smiling shrug.
Now what the hell did that mean? I looked like the kind of girl that got turned on by mallets and brain matter? Great. That explained a lot about my exes then. "You don't know me."
"Maybe not," he conceded. He looked at me and there was no hint of a smile on his face to lighten the intensity in his eyes. "But I know that expression you were just wearing. If you didn't do it with a mallet, then what did you kill him with in your head? Oh, here comes the bartender. What are you drinking?"
"7 and 7," I said automatically. Truth was, I was shaken to the core. I'm normal, I swear I am. A bit more cynical than most, perhaps, but I wasn't a bad person. It's just ever since I'd hit puberty I'd had these...flashes. Not with everyone, not with most people, actually. But sometimes a jerk, a real scumbag, would cross my path and then I was imagining things that normal people never thought to imagine. Normal people imagined kicking their douchebag boss in the balls. I imagined sawing off a stranger's head and hanging him upside down by his feet so the blood would drain out of his body before I dismembered him.
I didn't do it, of course. Nor would I ever do it. I got squeamish when I had to harm anything larger than a small spider. These random thoughts were the most violence I would ever let myself indulge in, and I shook myself out of those pretty damn fast. I'd never given any hint of what I was thinking away before now, and no one before had ever had a clue that I was capable of such dark thoughts. Just this man. "Who are you?"
"West McCall."
I blinked. "West? Like the direction?"
"Yep. And no, I don't think North, South, or East are cute pet names for me. And you are?"
Okay, any girl with half an ounce of sense knows the two golden rules of Bar Survival: always watch your drink and never tell creepers your real name. I opened my mouth to tell him I was one of the ubiquitous Ashley's of the world. "Indy Meyer."
As soon as I heard what I'd just said my eyes widened. Why did I say that? I hadn't meant to. My brain told my mouth to say Ashley, and it's like my mouth gave my brain the finger and did its own thing. That was new.
As expected of most people when they heard my name, he asked, "Short for Indiana?"
"Yep, and if you offer to let me search for your Holy Grail, I’m going to punch you in the neck."
"I'm sensing that you've heard that one before." West smirked, "And you thought my pickup line was bad?"
"Your pickup line was terrible."
"Yeah but I get points for originality, right?"
"I don't work on a points system. It's pass or fail."
The bartender set our drinks down in front of West. He handed my glass over and tapped his own against it. "Here's to me passing."
No he hadn't. He'd failed utterly. But I was still standing here with him, carrying on a conversation and drinking the drink he bought me. There was something seriously wrong with this picture. On the other hand, I'd already talked to West and he had still bought me a drink so I suppose this counted as a second drink in terms of familiarity. It was farther than most men had gotten lately.
Strike that. There was nothing wrong with this picture. There was something wrong with me.
It was time to end this. "Look, West. It's been...interesting, but you are just too weird for me. For future reference, it's the killing thing."
"You did the same."
"I did not kill him!" I whispered urgently. "He's still alive and annoying the shit out of everyone in the bar."
"You did in here," he tapped his temple. "Just like I did."
"No, I didn't."
"Well, not just like I did. I've got a thing for blunt force trauma. What did you do?"
"Cut his heart and lit him on fire," I snapped back, then slapped my hand over my mouth. There it was again! I hadn't meant to say that! My plan had been to deny deny deny, then shut West down until he left in shame. But my mouth had just answered his question regardless of what I wanted it to do. What the hell was going on tonight?
"Really?" he said like we were talking about a very interesting book. He didn’t mention my hand-to-mouth move at all. "That wasn't what I expected."
My brow furrowed. "What did you expect?"
"A gun. Poison maybe. But your way is much more personal and bloody. You'd have to know what you're doing with a knife to pull that one off."
"I know knives. I went to cooking school," I explained off-handedly then smacked my forehead. "Oh my god, why am I still talking to you about this? You're crazy! You're making me crazy! I'm normal, I don't discuss murder with strangers. Thanks for the drink, but I'm leaving now. Don't follow me."
I ran away. That's the only way to describe my determined dash for the girl's bathroom. I hid in there because I didn't want to take the chance of him finding me again or following me if I left the bar. West had seemed like a normal guy except for that one thing, but it was a big thing.
I was contemplating the possibility of me shimmying through the tiny window when the door opened and Mandy rushed in. "Indy, are you alright? I saw you chatting up that cute guy at the bar, nice by the way, and then you just ran in here."
"That guy's crazy!" I hissed. Mandy didn't know about my flashes of temporary insanity, and I wasn't about to tell her.
"What do you mean, crazy?" She gasped. "Did he do something to your drink? Are you feeling okay?"
"No, not that. I'm fine. He's just nuts. He was talking creepy and it skeeved me out." I was relieved to know I could lie again without my mouth taking over. West hadn't skeeved me out. I had skeeved me out.
"Oh man. Do you want to get out of here?"
"Yeah, I'm ready to throw in the towel. I've got work tomorrow." Sure, I thought to myself. Justify it. Really I just wanted to run even further away from the uncomfortable realization that I had something in common with a madman.
Mandy nodded resolutely. "Alright, I'll check to make sure the coast is clear then I'll follow you back to your house."
Well, now I felt like a tool for making her leave too. "You don't have to do that. It was nothing really. I just freaked myself out."
"Bullshit," Mandy replied cheerfully. "You're the strongest woman I know, Indy. If you get freaked out, then it's not nothing."
Mandy poked her head out the bathroom then gave me the all clear. I kept an eye out while we worked our way to the door. West wasn't there any longer, and I noticed neither was the asshole stranger that had inadvertently gotten me into this mess. I wondered if the two disappearances were related. Logic said no, but I knew I'd be watching the news tomorrow morning for a murder-by-mallet.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
There was nothing here. No people, no land, no color, no sound, no thoughts.
I ran, trying to find something in this aloneness, anything. I couldn't hear my footsteps, couldn't feel the air rushing against my face, couldn't find anything because there was nothing at all here. I curled into a ball and cried at being so alone, except there was no sound.
This is what Chaos wants to do to the world.
I jerked up at the unexpected sound. There was a light in the blackness, a flame that twisted and danced though there was nothing making to do so.
What is this, I cry.
It's Nothing. The flame flickered up with the words. This is the work of Chaos, the enemy of Fate and of everything that exists. It hates order, and Nothing exists in disorder. This is what the world would be like if Chaos ran unchecked. Do you want this?
No! Of course not!
Then you must do your part. Fate must reign. Order must be maintained. You are the hand of Fate. Take up the flame and burn the Chaos away.
The fire blazed up. It engulfed me in flames, burning away my flesh and everything that I was. All I could do was scream, but there was nothing to hear me.
My screams woke me up. I sat up in bed, gasping for breath, tears streaming down my face. I still felt the pain, smelled my flesh burning.
It took a long time for reality to regain control, but finally I could stop the tears. I'd never had a dream that felt that real before. And, god willing, I never would again.