Flash Fiction Contest: Urban Legends

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‘Hurry up Stef.’ Connor was at the door. He already unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt.
‘Give me a minute, jackass. You know I don’t want to get caught.’ She peered out the side windows of the car.
‘Stef, it’s midnight. We’re at a motel in the middle of nowhere. Who’s gonna see us? Just get out. I promise you, no one will see us.’
Listen shithead, I’m married. I can’t get divorced.’
‘Yeah right. That’s why you’re out here with me.’
‘You fuck better is all.’
Connor shook his head. ‘Just get in here. I gotta pick up work in a couple hours.’
He opened the door and flicked the lights on.

‘And hurry up!’

She opened the car door carefully. This one always made booty calls near midnight. His wife was deployed somewhere in buttfuckistan and he had the itch.
One more survey of the car park. Watery orange light from a solitary street lamp made the darkness even darker. Shadows in trees, deserted streets. Nothing moved. All the rooms were dark.

The motel room was furnished in early sleaze. Large brown stains spotted the threadbare carpet like land mines. The curtains were bleached between colors and there were cobwebs in the corners. Bedside, a lamp on a wooden stand leaned tiredly. And Connor was naked on the bed.

Thank goodness he didn’t move the pillows.

‘Oh God Connor, you can’t be serious.’ He already had an erection the size of a small python.
‘I’m not serious.’ He grinned.
‘But ol’ firecracker here might be.’

She closed the door behind her.
‘I’m not so sure about these sheets.’ She said. Her skirt fell to her feet. ‘There probably are bedbugs.’
Connor shook his penis. ‘And a snake.’
‘Oh I like snakes.’ She unhooked her bra and sashayed to the bed. ‘Especially yours.’
She climbed toward him.

Lips. Kisses. Tongues. She grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pulled him to her aggressively. He pushed against her, flattening her breasts.
‘Come on Stef, we talked about this, enough with the roughness.’
She raked her nails down his chest. Hard.

Ouch! You’re an animal.’ He grabbed her hands.
She expected him to hold her hands. They always did.
‘You know I’m an animal Connor. That’s why you come back.

And then she kneed him in the balls as hard as she could. Tonight would be the last time.

The fight went out of him. He dropped her arms and tried to curl into a fetal ball. Quickly she reached below the pillow next to him. She had a dishcloth soaked in ethyl-ether in a ziplock.

‘Stef..’ his eyes were wet. His cheeks were pink and there were welts welling with blood along his chest. ‘We talked about this. No roughness.’ His voice was choked, pained.

She bent close to his ear. Whispered.
‘This won’t hurt. I promise.
She held her breath, pulled the dishcloth from the ziplock. She didn’t want to inhale it, might make her dizzy.
She slapped it over his nose and mouth and threw her body over his face.
There was a moment. Always a moment when the organism realized this would be it’s last. Then it fought back.

Connor tried.

He pushed as hard as he could, but he had already taken one lungful of ether. It smelt high and pungent, like Cutex remover. His balls ached. A giant knot of pain twisted into his stomach. It felt like red hot nails pounding into him, into his testicles. Into his abdomen. His eyes filled with tears.

Why?

She was on top of him. His face. Darkness. His body screamed for oxygen. She was heavy. He couldn’t push her off.

Air!

He made a little space to breathe, open mouthed, he sucked in a mouthful of ether.
His mind loosened. As if someone had untied it from his body. He felt strangely weightless. For a moment everything went dim. He couldn't feel his legs.
And then there was only darkness.

Stef climbed off him. He wasn’t dead. Not yet anyhow. That’s why she had gloves and the meat hook in her purse. It wouldn’t take long.
When she was done with him, she would scrape the fuck out of the sides of his car with it, and leave it hanging on a door handle. Just so everyone wouldn't forget...
...the hook man.


Hope you guys enjoyed my reboot of the hookman/hookwoman. Grinning.
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Hugs. Jhagi.


Images courtesy Pixabay (as usual)

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