Twisted First Date

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was probably one of my favorites to write.
Enjoy the twist ;)

Submitted: January 05, 2013

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Submitted: January 05, 2013

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Simon Hanson sat infront of a blank computer screen, his fingers resting comfortabley on the key board and his eyes set on the glow. He considered himself a writer but hadn't written one full page in his ten years of expirience. He aspired to be well-known, famous, like Stephen King or Michael Crichon. Simon beleived he had potential, as did his wife Claire, but there was nothing to back it up. For godsake, Simon hadn't even finished high school. But he continued to sit infront of that blank computer screen every night from eight to ten, only stroking a key once or twice and following that was the backspace. It wasn't any secret that he was disappointed with his life; he married a last resort and never actually felt any real excitement after being on this earth for forty two years. Maybe that's why he couldn't write; maybe it's because nothing ever pleasurable ever happened to him. 
Simon Hanson sat at his computer and typed: GOAL: FIND EXCITEMENT. He then proceeded to save the document, shut down in his computer, and crawl into bed with Claire.
 
The next morning, Claire woke up to Simon's hand sliding itself up the back of her nightgown. She didn't take much of a liking to that.
"You were snoring all night and I finally fell asleep, you really think I'm in the mood to have a fuck session?" She growled, shaking him off and stuffing her face into the pillow.
Simon new it was a lie, for she had fallen asleep before he had even climbed in and was snoring like a retarded cattle. But, he nodded his head and sat up.
"Deciding to do something today?" Claire groaned, her eyes still closed and her knees curling up to her chest.
"I think I am," Simon huffed, scratching the lower half of his back and rising to his feet.
 
 
"One medium coffee, please," Simon said once he had reached the counter. 
The young lady stared at him and said, "There's different kinds of coffee, you know, sir."
Simon chuckled, trying to cover up the tone of embarressment that was flushing in his cheeks and said, "Just give me what'd you have."
The girl nodded a few times and wrote down a few marks on the cup, handing it to the woman behind her.
Once his coffee had been finished, he payed and began taking a sip. The coffee was disgusting but he didn't want to be offensive, so he drank it down about half way. He picked up a book from the table infront of him and began flipping through, skimming and taking it barely information. Isn't this how writers get there ideas? Simon thought to himself, in movies you always see them in coffee shops and all that shit. 
He dropped the book back onto the table and thought to himself, No. writers need expiriences. Not fucking coffee. and so, Simon stood up and threw out his coffee. And then he started to think: Romance Novels. Yeah, like all that Twilight and Fabio shit. That's always popular. Only problem was, where was Simon Hansen supposed to find any romance? Claire wasn't into that anymore, he thought. Would he dare have an affair? Who knows, maybe he'll meet someone interesting. And so, he went to the first person he saw.
"Can I buy you a coffee? Simon asked her. God, she was beautiful. This woman sat at the table opposite of him, her nose dug into a book and her glasses sliding down the ridge of her nose. Her hair was a shining gold color and her round eyes were the color of the sea, literally. Blue and green. 
She stared at him, puzzled, and lifted the cup she had beside her, "I've got my tea, but thank you," and so, she began to read again.
Simon stayed where he stood and said, "I'm Simon."
The woman's eyes stopped wandering from each edge of the page, but stayed down. She murmured, "Char."
Simon smiled and sat across from her. Char peeked up from her book and said to him, "What are you doing talking to a girl at a coffee shop with that on?" She nodded her head toward Simon's wedding ring and then locked eyes with him, an eye brow raising and a smirk playing on her lips.
"Oh, this old thing?" Simon laughed as he slipped the band from his finger. He added, "Im seperated. She just hasn't signed the paper work yet." He placed the ring band onto the table and smiled at Char sweetly, trying to gain that eye contact again.
Char returned to her book, uninterested. Any woman could tell that's total bullshit. 
Simon sighed and said, "Don't doubt me. I'm telling the truth. She didn't respect me or my dreams."
This caught her attention. "Your dreams?" Char said, a bit of questioning lingering in her voice.
"I'm planning on being a writer."
She smiled a bit and nodded her head, placing her book down onto the table infront of the two of them. Simon stood up from the chair and she looked up at him, confused.
"I'll tell you all about it, come with me," He held out his hand to her, and sure enough, she took it.
 
The pair of them walked around the city for the day, wasting it with stupid questions like, "Where'd you go to high school?" and "Where are you from?" or "Who's your favorite author?" Simon was actually enjoying himself but, in a way, it wasn't what he was planning on. Romance novels made the first date or whatever seem so exciting but this just felt like a guy talking to an attractive girl. He wanted more.
"I think it's time for me to go home," Char said, a smile on her face and her eyes locking into his. Simon grinned slightly and nodded his head.
"Can I just show you one last place? It's one of my favorites," He said, his pale eyes warm and inviting.
Char sighed and smiled up to him, her eyes equally as delightful and seeming to be just as happy.
He took her hand, used the other to wave down a taxi, and hopped inside.
 
 
 
"Where the hell are we?" Char laughed, looking around the place where they had been dropped off. It were merely an abondone building, probably a fish market or something. It had a slight stench of reaking, rotting fish corpses and it was, in fewer words, ugly. 
Simon smirked and said, "Just wait til you get inside." He took her hand again in his and guided her to the front door. He yanked it open with a quick jerk to the door knob and stepped inside, bringing Char along. The inside was hollow and almost as ugly as the outside. Only a few items were left: planks of wood, boxes, etc.
"This. This right here, is one of your favorite places to be?" She asked, her voice timid as she walked about the inside.
Simon had released her hand and pointed to the back room, "Go check it out in there, that's the place I like." And so, Char continued on to the backroom.
 
"There's nothing in here," She said blankly. Char turned himself back to speak directly to Simon, but he wasn't there. She poked her head out of the room and hollared, "Simon?"
He was now standing about ten feet away, a skinny piece of plank raised in his right hand. She stared at him, her right eye brow raising and her mouth in a slight gape.
"What're you doing?"
And then, Simon charged. Char stared at him, watching the humanity leave his expression and his eyes fill with a wild and animallistic sensation. That's all she could do, watch the mental and slight physical transformation. She didn't even have time to scream. 
 
 
 
 
 
That night, Simon Hansen sat down at his computer screen and began to type. He typed of a man who met a girl at a coffee shop, brought her around the city, and then introduced her to death himself. He smiled with every word he wrote and even let out a chuckle every now and then.
"Stephen King and Michael Crichon, that's who I'll be. When people here my name, they'll know of the greatness I write."


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