'Strange encounter'

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
This story concerns the rowdy exploits of a spoiled,upper-middle class youth who wants to break up with his girlfriend due to her often odd and inexplicable behaviour.His raging hormones lead him to infidelity however,and the aforementioned girlfriend ends up making up his mind for him in terms of the future of their relationship,in a very,horrifying,unexpected manner.

Submitted: March 29, 2010

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Submitted: March 29, 2010

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Jonas was thinking there always had been something strange about his girlfriend Camille.Certainly-she was beautiful-pherhaps even exotically so-and he had always appreciated her giddy willingness in submitting to his juvenile sense of reckless abandon.It was just that he now found himself wanting to sever his relationship with the girl-and he often found it difficult to summon the necessary fortitude in these situations.Sure-there had been more than enough good times-like those long wet kisses on his father's cruiser boat-stars bathing them in placid illumination while they desperately groped at one another high up in the Catskills.There was also the time he stole his elder brother's Corvette keys and sped into the city for a night they surely would never forget at the Four Seasons jacuzzi,charged up on his old man's clipped american express.Jonas figured that since his brother was summering in France-conquering Paris like some young philistine Bonaparte with his Cornell frat buddies,he probably would not care what happened to the vehicle.After all-if he smashed it up-his old man would just mildly admonish him-then whip out another american express and buy the kid a new vehicle-with even louder speakers than before.He laughed heartily to himself,remembering how they both drove the exasperated hotel bell hops zany with all the smashed bottles of Moet up and down the elegantly carpeted hallways while they ran riot half disrobed and drunk,screaming like blood lusting Comanches,wild on the war path.Yes,in many ways Camille had been quite the well bred catch.He had often found himself enamored with her long,colt-like legs.He would often marvel at the way she floated effortlessly amidst the lunch time tumult of the high school cafeteria like some cosmopolitian runway model-aloof,wordly and oh so sexually sophisticated.But he had always found her to have the wierdest eyes.Jonas would almost recoil when he looked at them-forced to step back a few paces in total surprise-especially when their oversized almond brown luminescence would peer hauntingly into his confused,adolescent soul.Sometimes they seemed overly aloof and pathologically devious all at once-like looking into an inviting,but dangerously alluring abyss.He now recalled other times too-when he would call her cell phone and she would not answer for days.Instead of accessing her bubbly voice mail recording,there was only the otherworldly buzz of swarming insects.Happily catching up with her later,pherhaps after a week and a half or so,they would kiss and caress with the same exuberant,youthful verve as ever before-but when they momentarily seperated and he looked at her-those eyes would seem mysterious and vacant-as if she were contemplating something far away.He now remebered how Camille always seemed to possess an odd odor after returning from these preoccupied estrangements.She seemed to smell like the overly pungent contents of some plastic,antiseptic rubbing alcohol bottle from his dad's medicine cabinet.Lately,during one of her profoundly mysterious disappearing acts,Jonas found himself enamored with a certain statuesque,perky blonde working at one of those ubiquitous mall kiosks that hawked the latest in mobile phone technology.Normally,he was averse to making the first approach with attractive females.He usually waited to ingratiate himself only after consuming several bottles of cold 'liquid courage'.Either that,or he would find himself stuck in a platonic purgatory with some well mannered but plain,'girl next door' type.At desperate times like that,alone with the momentary rush of Playboy induced masturbation,he would secretly long to become some young hotties' gallantly macho,hoplessly romantic knight.He would fantasize about riding in on a trusty,shinning stallion to wisk some girl like Camille away to live 'happily ever after'.Deciding he was now truly crestfallen over his predicament in discovering how torn he was between Camille and the cell phone girl;one afternoon at the mall he decided to sheepishly shuffle over to her.While doing so,he felt his thin legs starting to falter,almost as if they were melting-like some soft serve Dairy Queen hot fudge sundae left out on some park bench during one of those wondrous,July summer afternoons that seemingly lasted an eternity.Jonas pretended to examine one of the Blackberry phone displays,realizing he should probably consider upgrading from his shopworn Sidekick 3.Jonas and the girl of interest then furtively glanced at one another-as if each was purposely averting the other's longing gaze.As usual,Jonas waited for the girl to break the ice.She asked,in a soft,sensuous tone if he was 'interested in the new Blackberry storm',which apparently was being offered for an 'introductory sale price' of $99.99.While the girl made her perfunctory sales pitch,Jonas basked in the pillowy texture of her voice,which seemed to wash over him like a comforting,warm zephyr.Before too long,the ice was indeed broken and they were enthusiastically chatting about some local band called Cherry ST.Apparently,the girl had downloaded every one of the loud,alternative rock bands' tracks utilizing a hacked paypal account.Impressed,Jonas was soon swept up in a sexually charged vortex-where he virtually drowned himself in waves of pleasantly scented blonde locks and long,shapely legs atop his father's plush leather,Nantucket beach house sofa. A stabbing,aching guilt nagged at him the entire time though.While drenched with the cell phone girl's jasmine scented sweat,his spaghetti arms earnestly entwined around her athletically sculpted waiste,he suddenly thought of Camille.Through the high school gossip grapevine,he heard that she had never reacted well to the inevitable rejections she always suffered at the hands of her many ex-boyfriends.Like Jonas,they had all been alarmingly befuddled at Camille's odd,freakishly elongated disappearences.As the morning New England sun glinted brightly through the beach front bungalo windows,Jonas awoke,stomach knotted with ominous dread.The cell phone sales blonde was already pulling her hip-hugging jeans up the length of her giraffe like legs and over her red pantied,well rounded buttocks.He almost begged her to stay awhile,but the girl lived many towns over and sincerely claimed she had to be back at the mall for work in just a few short hours.Seemingly harried and possessed with unnameable dread,Jonas hailed a cab for the girl,placing the considerable charges on his father's amex credit card.Standing silent and confused in the spacious foyer while the girl opened the front door to run forth into the cascades of bright,exploding sunlight,he shook his dreadlocked and corn rowed head forlornly.'Call me later!'the sales chick lilted into the heat chafed breezes wafting lazily about as she disappeared into the taxi.Later on,he disconsolately threw some fresh strawberry's into the kitchen blender to make himself a margarita.Finding himself profoundly alone,he wished to gain a slight 'buzz on' and pherhaps escape the uneasiness that drifted over him like an oncoming storm.Walking down towards the beach,he hungrily slugged back the margarita,tentative bare feet sinking softly into the hot,golden sand.Looking around,he happened to notice two stick-like figures moving like tiny wraiths along the gleaming shoreline.The inviting,gentle crash of the ocean waves beckoned,and he moved his pidgeon toed feet quickly over the scalding expanse of sand.Relieved to find his feet quenched in the atlantics' salty,swelling coolness,he pitched the margarita to his thin,dark lips.Suddenly,he heard her keening voice coming from behind him,roaring over the guttural groan of some seagulls scavenging over some nearby errant Burger King leftovers.\"I knew you would be here...with that blonde whore!\"the voice nasally strained.Before he knew what was happening,the drink flew from his hands and she drew intimidatingly closer.\"Camille...you're never around...and you're fucking crazy!\"Jonas heard himself stammer while wiping sticky margarita mix from his trembling forearm.Drawing a few quick,labored breaths,he noticed the two far off figures were inexplicably close now,pherhaps only a few terrifying feet away.\"You are no longer my boyfriend!\"Camille's voice screeched eerily,like it was being broadcast through some ancient,scratchy ballpark public address system located on Mars.\"You are just like all the others...and you have been judged...human!\"Jonas felt the scalding sun at his hunched,aching back,as if it were a flamethrower closely wielded by Satan himself.\"You only say I love you to satisfy petty desires...to mollify yourself so you can hide all your imperfections and petty hatreds!\"He began to tremble more violently.Camille's oversized,almond brown eyes burned through him,as if he were nothing but a revolting insect that had to be squashed quickly.Hesitantly,he turned away from the assualtive girl,his braided dreadlocks spilling over his aquiline nose.His widening eyes somewhat obstructed by the mops of ebony hair,he nevertheless became totally breathless at the frightening proximity of the two wandering strangers.They looked rather sickly and emeciated,like the overly sun burned beach bums that sometimes stole naps underneath the enormous cover of his father's beach house back porch.But there was something altogether different about them.Their heads were overly bulbous and completely shaved like tibetan monks- their movements robotic and mechanized-as if controlled and mechanically sychronized from some remote source.They looked to be wearing identical,silvery body suits,emblazoned with some triangular insignia on the sleeves.\"I will make certain you never date another female again Jonas Rothschild...human or otherwise...duplicitous fuck!\"Camille was now screaming with unhinged,animal rage.Paralyzed and terror stricken,he now felt the cold,scaly grip of menacing evil upon him.Before he surrendered to the awaiting arms of death,he looked up at his assailants and attempted to pathetically beg for his life,but it was to no avail.Helpless,Jonas drew his last tortured breaths with his serated throat,his voice reduced to a gurgling,pained wimper.They stood over his wriggling carcass for quite some time while the summer day raged on into an afternoon inferno,the wounded cries of seagulls surrounding them as they pecked curious, pencil thin dirty beaks through more carelessly discarded beach trash.Camille began to smile as she merrily watched her ex-boyfriend die.She stood with shoulders erect,staring victoriously beyond the distant ocean horizon,oversized almond brown eyes outshining the sun.Then-even her strange friends began to smile-howling like wounded dolphins in a high pitched siren wail.They seemed altogether triumphantly proud at the work they had accomplished together.


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