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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man befriends the devil in efforts to rid our society of those who taint it black.

Submitted: October 09, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 09, 2014



“This isn’t my order,” I growled at the drive-through attendant. She was a young girl, straddling the cusp of high school hotness and college beauty by tying her gently blonde hair in a ponytail while she fucked her way through the guys she thought loved her, who only wanted to know her vagina intimately. Condescending boredom rested upon her face, pure disdain directed at the mediocre job she felt she was above.

“Excuse me?” the words slid, demeaning and dry, from her light pink lips, and dropped pointedly on the ground in front of me. I watched them fall, splatter, and dissipate before meeting her eyes with an equally as complaisant gaze. I cleared my throat, smiled shyly. Cranked up the charm.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think you gave me the right order. I uh, I didn’t realize how pretty you were until I saw your face. The speaker kind of warbled your voice a bit, I was expecting an older lady.” She was pretty, that wasn’t a lie. She looked like the girls I jacked off to at two in the morning.

The bored expression was quickly replaced by a bright smile, bashful and hopeful. “Oh, you’re a sweetheart!” A moment of stiff attraction hung in the air, hers for my dick and mine for her fucking face to bleed. “I’m sorry sir, give me a moment and I’ll get your food right out here… I’m about to be off shift here and you know how the end of the day can be!” she winked. I winked back. In the moments, plural, it took her to get my food, I managed to find a pen and old drugstore receipt (whiskey, soap, and Lucien’s hair gel… hair spray… some expensive shit he uses in his hair) and scrawled a message. We traded goods, my face lighting up at the smell of the burgers, hers at the words on the slick paper. I nodded a farewell and allowed the prick in the pickup behind me pull ahead, audibly cursing me for taking too damn long. I raised the naughty finger and displayed it valiantly as I drove around the building.  

Thankfully, I only waited for a minute or two before I saw her ponytail bouncing gleefully towards me, her coat bundled tightly around her neck in the chilly nighttime breeze. I stepped out of my car, leaving the engine on. I wasn’t staying here long. I could see the whites of her eyes now, and as she opened her pink pout to squeal something moronic, I finished screwing the pieces together and turned to her.

Cocked the gun.

Pushed her slender body against the bricks.

Pulled the cold trigger.

Felt my cock harden.

Watched her die.

I repositioned her body, felt it growing as cold as my burgers, and made sure that the dumpster hid her from the view of the street, suddenly aware of how many people drove down this road each night. Quickly stuffed her among the trash bags piled up too high to fit into the dumpster itself, her wet blood making slick trails along the back of my hands. Satisfied with my deed, I fished a cigarette from my coat pocket and left her body to rot.

Her blood continued to drop, though slower now, from my fingertips, gently coating my lips as I drew in a deep breath of pale smoke from the fresh yet rumpled cigarette. Perfectly imperfect splats of crimson littered the right side of the alley, each one smaller and weaker, the trail fading along with the memory of the girl I had just shot behind the Wendy’s dumpster. I hoped my cheeseburger was still warm when I bit into it. I hoped they had salted my fries enough.

Door number one (building) opened to door number two (my apartment) and behind door number three (my bedroom) was Lucien, a half burned cigarette between his fingers and a girl between his legs, moaning for his “big fat cock in my mouth, yum!” and he gave me a thumbs up when he saw me with the burgers in my hand. “Oh fuck yes, man. I’ll be out there in like, ohh, a minute.”

“Mmm, daddy, I can’t wait to have you inside my pretty little pussy..”

“fuck, ten minutes.”

“..or my little butthole…”

“Just give me my fucking burger. Shit better still be warm.”

Lucien took bite and groaned, but I couldn’t tell if he was making a sound of satisfaction induced by beef and bacon or by female throat and tongue, nor did I stay long enough to decipher. Instead I ran the hot water and let diluted blood fill stain the sink with the remainder of that dead woman’s name-Julia, I think her grimy nametag cried in black, unimaginative block letters. Smeared it all through my beard, her memory. It seeped into my skin in a fast-forward osmosis motion, hurtled through my veins like a liquid-like cloud of Darkest-Before-The-Dawn ink, the darkest black imaginable to the human mind.

Darkest before the dawn. A sort of hope sprig sprung from the winter soil. I felt darkest, right now in this fucking kitchen while watery blood turned my sink red and the devil himself got head from a tight-assed hooker on the comforter given to me by my dear departed mother (the ragged bitch was better off dead though) and my cheeseburger rapidly approached chilly. Ravenously devoured the perfectly salted fries as the blonde’s pink lace-clad tits bounced in the face of the prince of darkness, passed out in the recliner with a slippery grin painted across my face as I replayed the murder reel in my mind again like a movie premier, how forcefully her brains had exploded from her skull against the brick wall, the mess she had made was better than the shit they faked for millions of viewers nationwide.

Lucien’s hooker opened the door to leave, laughing over what seemed like an inside joke but was really Lucien worming his way out of paying for her pussy (the silver tongued devil, literally), and glazed over the reddish tint of his friend’s facial hair, his eyes passed over the almost peaceful look on an otherwise troubled visage. A quick shiver raced up his spine and steered him towards the half gnawed burger next to my resting feet, the now cold meat crumbled against that silver tongue that had minutes ago tasted the sweetly sour cum of the hooker’s ecstasy, the sauce flowing thicker than hers. He chewed slowly, letting my sin breathe on his lips, gaining life, momentum, a small golden surge of energy circled his being and when the hooker thumped back around the corner from the bathroom, towering shakily in her heels (either the orgasm was still fresh or she had yet to master the Stiletto Strut), now as sweet-smelling as a newborn (a newborn baby who swallows dick to make her rent, of course). Lucien turned to face her with scarlet horns erupting from his head and sweltering fire rolling off his silver tongue, eyes hideously widened and colored blacker than the darkest black imaginable. In the same moment, an ear-splitting cry escaped from what seemed to be the depths of hell itself, circling into every corner of the room and undoubtedly out the open window to wreak havoc on the unsuspecting citizens of Big City USA, sending vicious tremors of fear and suffering into the hearts of those touched by the cry.

The whore screamed, horrified, sprinted out of my apartment, not even bothering to shut the door after nearly breaking the damn thing off its hinges. Her ear splitting squawk and Lucien’s roar, in turn, jolted me from my slumber and I also let loose a girlish scream at the sight of the horned beast standing half naked, still erect, in my living room, wearing nothing but-

“Are you wearing my underwear?!”

Lucien shrugged, his eyes now the captivating, calming ice blue shade they were when we had first met in the bar months ago. “They were on the ground.

Hardly an acceptable explanation but I struggled to find a fuck to give. In the distance we heard the hooker losing her balance and falling the last few feet down the building stairs, still panicking and terrified and shrieking. I hoped she broke her ankle, and learned a lesson about wearing heels of that caliber. Lucien laughed, presumably having the same thought I was. My fingers groped for the tumbler of potentially day-old Jack and welcomed the burn with open arms.

He continued holding onto my burger, a slice of bacon dangling precariously from between bun and beef, his eyes questioning the obvious.

“Go ahead, man. Killing that fast-food bitch left me with no appetite, amazingly.”



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