Cracktenbroken's Blog

Original Title - My Story has a Moral

(Birthed from my poem: Sacrifice)

This is a simple story I decided to share with ya’ll, being as I have nothing better to do I might as well sit down and give a little experience. It started with a few buddies of mine coming over to pick me for my Twenty-first birthday, and dragged me to some outlandish bar in the middle of the city. I had walked past it many times, but never thought to go inside. Matter of fact I probably never would have if my friends hadn’t dragged me in. Dressed in a nice leisure suit from work I was forced to follow. And as we sat there I grew rather fond of the place rather quick, not only did they have good drinks and the ladies were quite impressive too, but only one caught my attention long enough to drag it from the conversation at the table.

She sat there, leaning on the bar top and was washing glasses from the nights use. She must have been five foot six or eight, her hair was a light brown and pulled back in a ponytail, leaving wavy bangs falling, yea, I remember it like it was just yesterday. She was wearing a light Blue bodice that laced up in the front and khaki pants, with a figure perfect for filling them. Of course my buddies and me had been poking sexual innuendoes about her back and forth since we sat down. And it wasn’t until Jim turned to me and bet fifty bucks that I couldn’t score a date with her here and now. I thought about it, and it took all but ten seconds as I shook his hand and got up to do my magic. Only problem was, this girl was a tad intimidating she wasn’t the average tall, crack-whore skinny bartender with obviously fake breasts, no this one was more sure of herself and I guess that bit of power I had seen in her made me take the bet. So I got up and waltzed my ass over to that bar

"...Can I help you Sir...?"

She sat up, and my eyes couldn’t help but to follow, as she set the glass down.

"Yes, yes Miss, a Popov … uh… please"

She got up from her seat behind the bar, reached for the bottles and started mixing my drink. Of course when she turned back around she found the drinks pay, and a rather sizable tip. I was going for the gold.

"Thankyou..."

That was all I got out of her, she scooped up the cash put it all in the till. That rather large tip went to the establishment instead of her cute little pockets. Oh was it a silent blow to my pride as she simply went back to washing. I on the other hand; didn't move, I was still a tad stunned by the lack of a reaction from the huge tip. It wasn’t until I heard voice form the background whispering my name; my friends didn’t let me bail on this one. So I cleared my throat and started digging for an opener.

"uh... Excuse me Miss?"

She didn’t pay much attention to me that’s for sure, and without even looking up from washing the used glasses:

"What now?"

Rubbing my hands together I looked down at my untouched and overpaid drink, building up the courage to start my move on her.

“I was wondering if you had a name, ya know... so I knew what to call you?”

That might not have been the best pickup line, but it worked at the time.

"My name’s Callious Defaren, friends call me Cal."

And I gave the brightest and most impressive smile I could muster as I saw her starting to reply. And with her words would start one of the most interesting days of all my existence…

"Well Callious, I'd love to give you my name... but then you'd ask for some kind of dinner engagement, you try to sweet talk me into your room and seduce me... why? All because your buddies bet you couldn't..."

Well, now I felt small and the sound of my friends behind me bursting in laughter didn’t help either. But oh no, she wasn’t done, she had to finish me off.

"...Besides, your not much of a man, look at you; all muscle no brains. I would turn you to a sniveling flesh puppet, beckoned to my heel and licking the spaces I've graced with my feet... and don't call me miss. I am a lady of taste, and you shouldn't be even allowed to ogle at me... Now go..."

I watched her hand shoo me away

"…Go to your ape friends and sulk in rejection before I get really bored."

She shook her head, lifting a hand to pull strands of hair from her face with a malicious smile at me, at her 'kill', and so I walked away in defeat.

Not wanting to return to my buddies only to get razed on, I left the bar; leaving the little dignity I had, back with my friends. Making a graceful exit and to head straight home. You really never get a good handle on who you are until someone points out your not even who you think you are. I don’t suppose that made any sense. Perhaps She was right to tear me down as she did, sorta’ puttin’ me in my place I suppose. But still, even if it was a bet to try to get this woman to spend the evening with me, I would not have even considered it if I hadn’t already found her quite attractive, gorgeous even. I always had a thing for the ‘strange’ ones, and it usually always got me into trouble, and boy would it this time.

The night was still relatively young and I guess she had not been done with me after all. Because when I heard that voice I knew who it was, the Ice Queen, the beautiful Ice Queen. And I paused in my steps, half out of surprise and half because my mind registered that I was already in the back alleys half way across town when I heard her (meaning she would have to have had followed me).

“It’s Cal, Right…?”

God, how I want remember those words as if they were the last thing I heard. Her voice had changed from the scene in the bar, it had become so soft and melodic that one would think she barely spoke at all… but let me tell ya somthin’; her voice was a euphoric tone to send my senses reeling. It was like … its mother voice cooing to comfort from a night of bad dreams. Her Voice had been so beautiful it was like a drug… I didn’t … the pain that was pulling at my attention, nor did the cool, wet trickle I felt in my ears break the trance I was in. All I could focus on was where finding the source that this three-word orchestra came from and it didn’t take long for that to become known. Her moist full lips touched with just a hint of color; the slightest of pink. Those lips parted from its drawn smile to draw breath and speak as she walked out from behind me.

“Eve’ Cal… I, uh… I just wanted to apologize for the nasty trick I pulled on you. I couldn’t just let you walk all over me… I had to play my part; I sure hope you can forgive me?”

My face must have registered my concerns by this point because her smile faded and turned to a look of concern. By this time I had finally realized what had happened… Blood, blood was trickling from my ears. I couldn’t hear the cars go by; I couldn’t hear the am-track that was approaching… I could hear anything but the blessed sound of her voice in my head. I dun’ know how, but somehow that voice of hers had killed my hearing and shattered eardrums and boy could I feel it now.

Pain had shot through my head, from right to left and left to right, the pain bouncing back and forth. And as my hands went up to clutch the sides of my head she stopped me, her hand reached out and pulled my right hand from my head, stepping in closer she was no right in front of me… close enough to, well, touch. And as my face twisted in pain her hand lifted and brushed across my cheek. And to think I thought her voice could not be matched to anything. As her hand brushed across my skin I felt the pain fade, that godforsaken burn whittled itself away. If her touch had not sent me into another trance of heedless lurching I probably would have started to grow quite uncomfortable with the events… Oh but her touch, Not only did it kill the pain; but as it washed throughout my body as a whole it left a sudden numbness in its wake. My own body rejected its sense of touch as I lost all feeling in every inch of my body. The slight breeze had ‘suddenly died’ to me, and I suddenly felt naked as a blue jay as the cloth and fabrics of my rather expensive leisure suit vanished from perception.

You see, I can just hear you now, ‘what the hell are you doin’ man, get the hell outta there!’… But what you kids don’t understand is, I was so doped up on the simplicity of her presence; her ensnaring voice, her calming, albeit numbing touch; that my … perception and train of thought never kicked into play. I was prey for a predator that I never had a chance to defend against. Now… where was I, ah yes, after the touch. So I stood stunned, paralyzed even and open for whatever violent, romantic assault she had planned next. She had turned me into a useless husk but for some reason, and maybe you can pick it out of the story, but for some reason I didn’t care as she grabbed my head with both hands and pressed her lips to mine. And here we go folks; this is where it gets good for you and bad for me (well… maybe a little good for me, but not for long).

My eyes automatically closed as her soft lips touched mine, and instinctively my arms wrapped around her, pulling her in closer, tighter so I could feel her body to mine… which was obviously a lost cause, me, left to feel nothing and all. That kiss, that one kiss was something I will have to keep in my dirty little black book. Her head tilted ever so slightly so her mouth pursed over my bottom lip, her tongue flickered out breaking the seal of mouth as she invaded my space in such a way I would have been daft to refuse. Flesh to flesh as she played with my tongue, teasing it leaving it to chase after. Fluid to fluid as saliva collided gently, embracing itself with its intruders. It was odd, one would normally think that spit, and lets be honest that’s all it is, spit, and its not exactly the greatest taste in the world… but my God, this was different, her kiss was like candy and … addictive and seemingly harmless at first. And I would do anything to taste it again, but her hands pressed to my chest as she parted our embrace, our heavenly kiss, leaving me to stand dumbfounded and speechless. Even as I tried arguing her halt in our intimate embrace nothing came out, not any words. Again she was weaving whatever magic, or weapons or whatever you would call it upon me. Now she had taken my ability to speak… and not only that, but the loss of feeling to my sense of touch, now invaded my body from the inside. I grew lightheaded and sluggish as I tried to follow her back step but had to stop before I stumbled to the ground. I felt, as I was nothing… if that concept can be applied here. I had no feeling; nothing registered to my perception but my mind, a mind running wild and unchecked by this time.

It was nice though, just standing there deaf and dumb, watching her slowly undress. Her small hands unlacing that blue gothic bodice which freed the restricting hug upon her breasts, breasts so full and ample. And not just her breasts, her figure held to the hourglass stereotype; the ones you see all these professional dancers and strippers getting surgery done to compete with the natural bodies of women like her. Her almond tone skin held no pale fade as she let the Bodice fall to the ground, her stomach a soft pallet of flesh just waiting to be brushed and stroked. Her build was in no way small, the woman had meat on her bones, and as she shimmed out of those tight khaki pants I was sure of it. She didn’t hold the skinny, defined build with the big breasts most men desire after, she was perfectly proportionate like the women you hear about in stories written back in the days of the Wild West. She had soft, small shoulders that anchored long streamline arms; the neck line itself defined the perfection of a porcelain doll as it only accented the torso for more flattery over her shape. Her thighs were full and her legs smooth as glass.

She was naked in the most literal of terms, standing there before me, making me like … a toy store; always reaching for the expensive toys on the high shelves they can’t reach. If I had any feeling I’m sure my body would have craved her more than my mind could have described but is was only left to ogle. My hungry eyes took in her form from those supple breasts, begging to be grouped and that goddess of a stomach with its little indent down the middle trailing to the bellybutton. She was God’s carving of perfection; around the hips, and even further to every straight mans sexual heaven; the ‘prize’ that defined the very presence of womanhood, and teased me like a worm on a hook. It seemed the Streetlight above us was … out… but as all light, even that from the headlights in the far distance … out I realized the price I had paid to view such a body. My eyes had gone blind… Again my desires had clouded judgment as the greed of lust took its toll for the fourth time.

Its funny now that I think about it, her body was the last thing I saw, and being a determined atheist I would have called her an angel without argument. Even so I would deem her Divine as her body shifted into a corpsious monstrosity, her flesh had shriveled and clung to her frame as her figure seemed to vanish, gray skin keeping vital organs in place as ribs jutted out awkwardly. Her jaw… if I remember correctly; came to a deep under bite, teeth grew and skin fell. I still remember the sound of bone breaking and resetting as her body twisted and contorted into a bone carapace, exposing the monster she truly was from the beginning, the beast that rendered the flesh from my bones with swipes of ebony talon digits. Yes even after she had shown her true form and consumed my body for everything it was worth, I still found that my death had been better than anything else I have known of, that others have had to face in all history.

Now, you’re probably confused… ‘How the hell can Cal be scribing his death to every detail on paper… if he’s dead’? Well, it’s not a simple question to answer, but look at it this way; heaven exists, hell exists and for those of us that get caught in the wake of their war… purgatory exists. I am a soul wandering aimlessly, a ghost if you will. And all that you know of ghosts if quite different too, demons don’t posses people, Lost souls posses lost people. And here I sit in John Smith’s, or Steve Johnson’s body, whatever the name may be, I have stopped caring. My goal was to tell my story, and to warn others of temptation, so here it is folks;

Your desires will be the death of you, but a more pleasing death than one handed to you. And so I say to my readers… beware of the web life deems as fate, for chaos lives in the things we tend to hide from others. Give in and die happy. Hey you never know, maybe we’ll run into each other on the crossroads some time eh?

Till then my friends, take care.