Yes (what happened after Ghostgirl)

 Andrea had wanted the signature chocolate from Starbucks; that’s how it all started. Honestly, there was nothing at all before this, absolutely zero reason for everything to come crashing down around me like a soiled house of cards.

 

It all began with me stretching out on a Saturday morning alternating between consciousness and unconsciousness on the bed whilst admiring her body as she did her yoga movements. She had both her legs stretched out behind her and in front of her as she arched her back, gently letting the tip of her fingers on the right hand touch the back of her left thigh. What made her all the more enticing was that she was wearing a very small tank top, and a very short pair of running shorts. I wanted to launch myself off from the bed and persuade her to pleasure me, but the previous night’s 2 hour nap kept me in a vicious hold of fatigue. So all I could do was observe and admire. She knew what I was doing and she deliberately started to sweat; long trails of sweat sliding down her back, between her cleavage and all over her forehead. Her short spiky hair glistened tantalizingly with sweat.

 

“This is not for you,” she said, without looking at me.

“Yeah, I know. Funny why you should be doing it right beside the bed, on the floor though,” I said.

“Its too hot and bright downstairs. Anyway, the neighbor’s kid likes to stare.”

“Pokey likes to stare at you?” I asked.

“Pokey is 14, of course he likes to stare at me,” she answered, “he’s a boy-man.”

I considered this for a moment.

“I remember my 14th year fondly,” I said.

“Yes, I remember. You told me.”

“At that age, the magic secret was masturbation.”

“Yes, I remember that too. You told me.”

I sat up.

Andrea was now on her stomach, both hands pushing the floor as her back arched backwards, the folds of her inner tights exposed.

“You’re asking for trouble, you know that, don’t you?” I asked her.

“You need to get me the signature chocolate darling. I’ve been needing one for the past three days. Three days ago you said you’d get me one. I still don’t see it.”

I stood up, the blanket falling off my back, exposing my shirtlessness and my long boxer shorts.

“You have? Strange. I don’t remember,” I said.

“Go now, and you may be in time for my mid-air leg split. You like that, as I recall,” she said, finally turning around to face me.

“I like what comes after that, honey.”

“Yes. I have four more movements before I get there. So go now, and you may make it on time.”

I quickly slipped on my jeans, grabbed a tee shirt, my wallet and phone and hurried downstairs.

 

By the time I reached home the sunny disposition of the house was replaced by a dull grey atmosphere of impending rain. The brightness of the last half hour was sucked away somewhere. I raced upstairs with the signature chocolate in my hand and burst into the room. Andrea was not there. Instead there was Pokey.

It was awkward but I had to ask, “Where’s my wife?”

“She’s gone out to get the chocolate,” he said, sitting innocently on the bed with a book in his hand.

“I was supposed to get that,” I said.

“You were? I suppose she didn’t trust you,” he said. He continued staring at me, his large eyes looking me up and down.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Your wife asked me to.”

“For what?”

“To let you know about the chocolate,” he said.

“She couldn’t call me?”

Pokey shrugged, and pulled out a mobile phone from underneath one of the pillows on the bed.

“Out of battery,” he said.

“Please leave,” I said.

“But she told me to wait.”

“Now,” I said.

He stood up, looking annoyed.

“She’s not going to like it,” he said.

“Downstairs and out the door, now,” I said. He stormed out, and dropped the book he was holding loudly on the floor; it was a copy of my first book.

“She won’t like it,” he repeated.

 

Andrea returned later in the evening, the signature chocolate was by then cold and irrelevant. She looked distracted.

“Where the hell were you?” I asked.

“Did you get my signature chocolate?” she said.

“Where were you?”

“Somewhere,” she said. “Oh darling, you got my chocolate!”

“Pokey was here. In our room. Why?” I demanded.

The distracted Andrea appeared not to have heard me.

“You know who I met just now?” She asked, looking into space, smiling. “Ice Balls.”

It took a moment for me to register the name. Mr. Iglooetta. The dickhead who stole my wife, killed a friend and spent some time being the punching bag of bipolar Filipino house helper. That Ice Balls.

“He said I looked good,” she said, now smiling shy but still staring into space.

“Pokey was in our room Andrea,” I said, “why?”

She snapped out from her brief reverie and finally focused on me.

“He was? How did he get in?”

“I was hoping you could answer that, seeing that you were still around when I left the house to get your signature chocolate drink. You made me rush like mad, and then you disappeared.”

Andrea giggled, “Sorry,” she said.

“You’re acting weird,” I said.

“Am I? Must be the heat.”

And then I noticed that she was wearing the same short, short running shorts and the very tiny tank top.

“You were outside wearing that?” I asked.

“I guess so,” she said, still smiling, “I  guess that’s why he said I looked good enough to eat.”

“Who? Mr. Icicle Dick?”

“Hmmm. Yes.”

My phone rang suddenly. I answered it and was surprised to hear a man’s voice asking for Andrea.

“That must be Anton,” she said, reaching to grab the phone from me.

“Who?” I asked.

“Ice Balls” she whispered.

Before she could grab the phone I pulled out of her reach and asked him what he wanted to from my wife.

“Catching up on old times, you don’t mind do you?” his silky smooth voice slipping through the phone, giving my ear a liquid gold shower.

“Fuck. Off,” I said, then pressed the red button.

Andrea shrieked and made a grab for my phone.

“What was that?” she asked, looking terribly upset.

“His real name is Anton?” I asked.

“I was waiting for that call, now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?”

Andrea ignored me and stormed out the room. From another room she shouted “I was waiting for that call!” Then the door slammed.

That was the beginning of the end for me and Andrea. I tried the door but it was locked.

“Andrea, what is this? Why are you so angry at me for not allowing you to talk to that bastard. Don’t you remember what he did to Toni? He killed her. Shot her in the head. But before that, he stole my wife. Now she’s a porn star in Taipeh. He’s a dickhead Andrea. Everyone know’s that. Please let me in.”

“No!” she shouted.

“You’ll have to come out sooner or later, theres no toilet in there. and I know you need to use the toilet. You always do when you come home.”

That was when I heard the window smash. I kicked the door down just in time to see Andrea slipping out into the night from the 2nd floor of our house.

 

The news reached me three days later. My neighbor, Pokey’s overweight mom, came over with a written note. It was in in her bad hand writing that I read of Andrea’s plan to join Anton.

“This is like, the second time huh?” she asked.

“Yes it is.”

Pokey was standing behind his mother, looking at me. He was smiling.

“You don’t really know how to keep your women, do you?” she asked.

 I thanked her and told her to go home.

“Now,”  I added, shooing the both of them from my porch.

 

This time around ghost girl was not around to call and give me supernatural advise. She was dead. She had been dead for 2 years now, killed in a car accident. It was on the same day she told me my work in progress, my life, was complete and that I should be really happy. And then she left the café where we had coffee, stepped out to cross the street and kablam, she was hit by a speeding bus. It was unfortunate I had to witness her body being smashed into four large identifiable pieces.

 

I had traded my old beetle with a new pick up truck, choosing the same black color of my previous car just to maintain some level of consistency. It was the first thing I bought when I cashed in my first million dollar cheque. It was a good day that day. Both me and Andrea had picked it up from the show room, driven it to a secluded place only we knew and had sweaty sex for three hours. We came home barely alive, but deliriously happy. That was three years ago.

And now this. What is this? I had no idea.

 

 I sat in my truck and contemplated my next move. I had no next move. I had no idea what to do or where to go. Working alone in the comfort of my study did not afford me many friends or contacts with advice on what to do when your wife runs off. The situation worsened when an asshole was involved, as assholes tend to fuck things up in so many ways. So I did what any reasonable man would do, I started trailing the areas where my wife normally goes; our neighborhood where she jogs, the shopping areas where she does the groceries, and the eating places where we eat. It took me most parts of the afternoon to make several rounds of her haunting places but as I knew deep down, it yielded a big fat zero. But I wasn’t ready to go home yet. I had to know.

It was 2am when her call came through, she sounded tired, but happy.

“You don’t have to look for me, honey,” she said.

“You’re back home?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Stay there, I’m coming home now. Don’t move!” I shouted.

“Wait,” she said, “I’m not at our home, I’m at home with Anton.”

I was driving aimlessly when her call came through, and I braked suddenly when she blurted out that sentence. Two seconds later my pick-up truck shook as a driver behind me crashed into my vehicle.

“What? I don’t understand,” I said, understanding perfectly what she was telling me.

“Its really not that complicated,” she said, her voice sounding sane and clear.

“Don’t I have a say in this?” I asked.

A sharp rapping on my window broke the flow of conversation.

“What?” I turned to the window.

It was a fat man in a tight tee shirt pointing to my face and then to the back of my car. I lowered the window.

“Please, hang on a second, please,” I told him.

The man actually did.

“Listen,” I shouted over the phone, “you can’t do this to me, its not fair.”

“It is to me, it is to me. Goodbye.” She hung up the phone, and switched it off. I tried calling her but it was useless. I sat there a moment until I noticed the fat man waiting for me outside the car.

“Okay to talk now?” he asked.

 

His name was Mokhtar and he was on his way to pick up his daughter from the KL bus terminal when I suddenly stopped the car in front of him, causing him to smash into me. He didn’t want any trouble, and neither did I so we traded numbers; mobile and identification with both of us testing and sighting the others’, then we were on our way; him to pick his teen-age daughter coming home for the holidays, and me to an empty house.

I reached home, parked the car, got into the house, locked the door behind me and started stripping off my clothes piece by piece. By the time I reached my room I was naked, but I was not alone. I switched on the lights. She screamed first, I jumped and almost fell backwards down the stairs but I didn’t, instead I instinctively covered by genitals with both hands and shouted, “What the hell are you doing here?”

 

Some things happen for a reason and sometimes, you just don’t get the reason yet; it only makes sense much later.

 

Andrea was completely lost to me. How do you find someone who doesn’t want to be found? Where do you start? Since I work from home, or from anywhere I place my butt and power up my Mac, I had the pain of eating up blocks of daylight hours fretting over the loss of my wife, taking apart permutations piece by piece. Was it my fault that led her to want to be with the asshole? Was I to blame? Could it be her? Him? Both of them? Were they seeing each other much earlier than day zero? And if so, what kind of magic was Ice Balls applying to make her leave me?

 

When the both of us screamed that night in unison, part of me wanted to punch her in the face, and part of me wanted to pee right there. She was the living, breathing and screaming version of Toni. That’s right, Toni the Japanese lady who had half her head blown off by Mr. Ice Balls himself, in his state of near death. It was her younger sister Ame. I screamed out in fright that night because there was another person in the house, in the dark and also because for one brief moment I thought it was the ghost of Toni wanting revenge because she believed I was part of the reason she was dead.

 

Ame had her own story to tell. So after I put on my clothes, we settled down at the kitchen table with a pot of black coffee two mugs and an open packet of Oreos. When news of Toni’s death reached Japan, her father flew into a rage and threatened to make it an international incident, drawing in powerful political figures into the fray to basically kick Malaysia’s ass for allowing a Japanese citizen living in the country to be murdered. He came close to making that happen but stopped short when he suffered a stroke and died shortly after. Ame’s mother was too stunned to do anything and Ame was too lazy to take up her father’s fight. Only when it was learned that Toni had left a sizeable estate in Malaysia was she compelled to make the trip to see things for herself. She needed the money for a physical reconstruction; essentially to widen her otherwise lovely doe eyes, and to enlarge her slightly less-than a handful pair of perky breasts. She was very animated and completely not shy. In other words, she was exactly like Toni. At some points during her tale, her facial expression drew a chill from me, as I briefly believed it was Toni that was in front of me and not her sister. They looked the same, but they were not. Where Toni was a sturdy, voluptuous woman, Ame was tall and lanky; where Tony was handsome, Ame was incredibly beautiful. But both women were very attractive. As I sat there I found myself concentrating on her chubby lips, her darting eyes and the way she kept sweeping several strands of hair from her face to behind her left ear. She noticed me looking at that way and blushed.

“And now you’ve lost Andrea, your wife,” she said.

I nodded.

“Must feel terrible to have it happen twice,” she added.

I shrugged.

She sighed, and then looked around at the kitchen.

“I like this kitchen, its very cozy,” she said.

“It is. Its my favorite room in the house,” I said.  Then it occurred to me. “How did you get in the house? I had the alarm on.”

She smiled broadly, and then shifted her head to the left.

“Ah, my ever friendly neighbor,” I said.

Ame smiled and giggled. “They must annoy the hell out of you.”

“You got that right.”

She sighed, then stood up.

“I must be going,” she said.

“You’re staying at a hotel?”

“I will be staying at a hotel. Haven’t decided which one yet,” she said.

“Stay here instead,” I said, “there’s a spare room with a toilet, and theres a TV in there as well.”

She shrugged, raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not a little bit. Where’s your bag?” I asked.

“I came like this. No bag nothing.”

That night, for the first time in 3 days since Andrea left, my head was occupied. As I lay on my large bed beneath the twirling blades of the ceiling fan, thoughts of Andrea clashed repeatedly against Ame. Why, I wondered. Without thinking, I grabbed my mobile and dialed Andrea’s number. Somewhere in the dead of night, it rang.

“Hullo?”

“Andrea,” I said, suddenly afraid.

“Who is this?”

“Please come home Andrea,” I said, “please come home.”

“Who is this?”

“Andrea it’s me.”

She paused a moment.

“I’m with Anton now, as I should be. Now go sleep with that whore Ame. I know you’ve been wanting to all night.”

I yelped and sat up straight in bed. It was 5am in the morning and the mobile phone lay cold on the dressing table across from the bed. It looked dead.

I couldn’t sleep so I got off the bed and wandered downstairs to the kitchen. Ame was reading a book at the table, her face hidden by it.

“Hey, you’re not asleep,” I said.

Ame slowly put the book down and revealed her face. For the second time that morning I yelped. It was Toni with half her face blown off. But I could still make out her broad grin.

“You thought it was Ame huh?” She said.

I yelped again and backed out of the kitchen slowly, my eyes on the horrific face as it followed me. Her one eye was squinting, a result of the gunshot.

“Is that the way to treat an old friend? Come on!” she said. She was being very realistic about it, I could tell from her voice.

“But you’re dead,” I said.

“I guess,” she said. “But that don’t mean I can’t come visiting. Especially old friends who are about to join me anyways.” She smiled so broadly that her remaining eyeball popped out from the socket and dropped on the kitchen table with a soft thud.

“Oops!” she said.

And I didn’t wake up.

Toni grabbed her runaway eyeball and popped it back into the socket.

“I thought you’d understand, you know, you being a writer and all that,” she said.

I stood there, not sure of what to say. I was scared yes, but I was also fascinated. She was my friend, when she was alive, and there was sexual tension between the two of us, and right now, her long solid legs looked fantastic coming out from a pair of ridiculously short pair of running shorts. And it didn’t help matters that her large breasts were barely contained by the small half tank top.

“Take it easy tiger, you’re growing a banana there,” she said.

“Oh,” I said, noticing my erection.

“You are one sick person, you know that? Sit down and lets talk. You don’t have to look at the remains of my face okay?”

That sounded very Toni-like; reasonable, convincing and reassuring.

“So how’s things with you? Not good huh? Andrea going off with the prince of ice. Yeah, don’t look surprised. I know stuff. Anyway, Ame’s been telling me stuff. Oh, hi Ame.”

I spun around to see Ame standing by the kitchen door smiling sleepily at her dead sister. She was in her underwear and my long white tee shirt I keep in the guest room.

“Hey Toni,” Ame said.

“Is there coffee?” she asked me.

“You know about this?” I asked.

“Toni? Yeah. How did you think I know where you lived.”

“This is one hell of a realistic dream,” I said.

Toni looked at Ame and shook her head.

“It’s not a dream, okay? Here, touch this,” Ame said, grabbing my hand placing it on her cheek. It was incredibly soft and cold.

“I don’t think you can really feel that in a dream, can you?” she asked.

“I guess not,” I said.

“Good. I’d like to make a pot of coffee if that’s all right with you,” she said.

“Of course. Please, I need some too,” I said.

Toni looked at both Ame and me and nodded, “Now that’s what I want to see.”

We spent that morning catching up on stuff. I related to them what happened after Toni was shot in the head, and Toni recounted her time in the morgue and the attendant who shat himself when she stood up to tell him she was okay. We laughed at that one. Toni had to control her laughter to avoid having pieces of her rotting face fall off. I suggested bandages, but she said it itched like mother’s titties to have her face covered up so like it or not I had to stare at the decaying face throughout the morning. Ame was perfectly normal with the sister’s face, in fact she looked bored at some point.

“I’m going back to sleep,” Ame said, after yawning widely.

“Yeah? So am I,” I said. I was dead sleepy.

“Let’s cuddle,” Ame said, “we’re friends now.”

I looked at Toni, her half-gone face smiled.

“I have no issues with you guys nodding off in the state of embrace. Just don’t do each other. At least not yet.”

I looked at Ame, and she shrugged. She took my hand and led me to the guest room and slipped beneath the covers. I joined her and spooned her from behind. We were unconscious within a matter of minutes. My brief inclination towards arousal was dampened by sheer fatigue. I wasn’t too sure about her as the last thing I remembered was her wriggling in my embrace trying to find the perfect hold.

The rain fell heavy that morning, shutting out the noise from the confused state of my mind.

I woke up much, much later in the day. The rain had stopped and the sun was a golden strip which laid across the floor. Ame was snoring gently, curled up with her head on my arm. I slowly moved my arm and sat up. Was this what I wanted? Was this the substitute for Andrea who was with another man right that moment? I wasn’t sure. I was tempted to go back to bed and snuggle up to Ame and see where that took us, but I felt compelled to step outside the house and see if the world was still there.

It was. The evening world was bright and cleansed; a breath of fresh air and the sweet distinct smell of pine trees. Andrea was standing at the foot of the porch, staring at me with a sad look on her face. She walked slowly up the porch and into my arms. We said nothing for a few minutes.

Ame appeared at the doorway, her underwear revealed as she stretched out to express a yawn.

“That’s Andrea?” Ame asked.

Both Andrea and me turned to her. I nodded. Andrea disengaged herself from me and turned stone cold.

“Who is that?” she asked. She had a strange expression on her face.

“Toni’s sister, Ame,” I said. I was curious to see how this little episode would expand.

 “I leave you for two days and you’re sleeping with another woman,” she said.

Ame walked over to Andrea and said, “Oh, we’re not sexing each other. We’re not. I just came last night. I’m sleeping over. You’re Andrea right?”

I never expected Andrea to be the type to hit people, but her arm shot out and she decked Ame in the face. Ame dropped to the ground. I grabbed her before impact and held her up.

“Okay, hold her,” Andrea said, readying for another hit. I held out my hand.

“That’s enough Andrea. How the fuck do you come back here and get fucking angry at me for sleeping with another person when you disappear on me like that?” I said. I was calm when I delivered those questions.

Andrea stood back and a look of utter confusion played across her face.

“I missed you, baby,” she said finally, her face melting into a smile. “I missed you.” I believed her for the briefest of moments. Until her smile turned into a snarl. She grabbed my neck with both hands and throttled me, before angling her head to take a chunk out of my neck. This time Ame decked her, and it was powerful because Andrea was knocked out cold. At that time I heard car tires screech and looked up to see a small Myvi speeding away up the street. I could only manage to catch a glimpse of a perfectly groomed head. Mr. Ice Balls.

We laid Andrea on the sofa in the living room and tried to revive her by gently slapping her face and sprinkling ice water on her face. She was out.

“Its not the punch that did her,” Toni said. She emerged from behind the sofa and I almost peed in my pants.

“What the hell were you doing there?” I asked.

“I just appeared here, okay? I wasn’t hiding here. There’s a difference,” Toni said.

Ame who was sitting beside Andrea looked up at her sister and asked, “Then why is she like this?”

“She’s not in control of herself, obviously,” she said.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“I didn’t think you would,” Toni said. “She’s possessed. The thing that’s inside her is under the control of someone.”

“Anton?” I said.

“Who?” Ame and Toni asked at the same time.

“Mr. Ice Balls,” I said.

“Yes, Mr. Ice Balls,” Toni said.

The three of us were quiet.

“That makes him a complete asshole, doesn’t it?” Ame said.

“Yes it does,” I said.

“So what can we do?” Ame asked.

“Toni, don’t you know how to deal with situations like this? You know, considering, you know, your condition,” I said.

Toni looked at me with her good eye and smiled, “Just because I’m a walking dead person, you think I know?”

“No,” I said, “its because you deal with this stuff when you were alive. Remember the witch in the jungle? Remember her? Me and Andrea driving all the way there to find out stuff for you.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” Toni said coyly.

And then Andrea coughed. It was a small cough at first, then it became louder and more powerful. At the end of 2 minutes she was whopping it out, her chest rattling with each explosion. Blood was coming out from her throat; she couldn’t stop coughing. I held her close, embracing her hard to stop the coughing. Her coughing subsided but in its place she had started to giggle. It was a tiny giggle at first; deep throaty, then it heightened, one pitch to another. By the time she was wailing and laughing out loud both Ame and Toni had scampered halfway across the living room to the dining area. I sat there and clung on to Andrea as hard as I could. In my terrified state I was also very angry; angry with the asshole son of a bitch who did this to her. I was mad as hell. Finally the laughter slowed down and she had stopped shivering and shaking. She slumped against my damp shoulder and released a long sigh.

“Surprise,” Andrea whispered. She rose a few inches above the sofa and looked down on me with a vicious smile; her lips pulled back and her eyes wide open.

“Surprise!” she screamed, as she rose right up to the ceiling, near the spinning blades of the fan.

“They are coming,” Andrea, shouted, “they are coming for you. Andrea is no more,” she said, as she floated out the door and zipped up skywards into the night. That was the last I saw of her.

 “I wasn’t expecting that,” I said weakly.

“No shit,” Toni said, slowly getting up and letting go of Ame. “Powerful stuff.”

Ame stood up and said, “Holy shitty Toledo in a frying pan. How the hell do you explain that?”

Toni looked at me, then at her sister. “That’s nothing. If the horde is coming your way, then the best you can do is run and hide.”

“You think?” I said.

 

The following day we crept around the neighborhood trying to cover up Toni with a hoodie so that her good side of the face was more visible than the bad half. Ame was still clad in the tee shirt and underwear and was making me aroused at the wrong times; at the petrol kiosk, when I leaned out to pay at a toll booth, and when we had lunch at a mamak joint by the side walk. She kept tugging at the tee to cover her legs but it only drew attention to her very long legs.

“You know Ame,” Toni said, “its really not helping.”

“What?”

“You tugging at the tee shirt. Every male species here is looking at your legs,” Toni said drily. Her face was fully covered up the hoodie, and as a result she was also the a point of interest from the other mamak stall patron.

“Its so hot here,” Ame said to Toni, then to me, “and you.”

“What?” I said.

“Just you.”

 “I’m hot?”

“No, not you. I meant you must be hot too. The weather.”

“Lets just go back, okay? We can’t avoid going back.”

We drove back in silence, both sisters sitting at the back, looking out the window. Ame lowered the window and snuck a smoke.

“I don’t mind, really,” I said.

Ame shook her head and chucked the cigarette out the window.

“You’re not helping, you know that? I’m trying to quit,” she said.

We reached home and cautiously walked up the driveway to the front door. Toni was behind me and Ame was behind her. They weren’t helping me calm my nerves, but I was glad they were there with me. I unlocked the door, and pushed it open. The inside of my house was a directly expression of the outside of the house, only dirtier. A huge uprooted tree was placed upside down in the middle of the living room, and surrounding it were pieces of what looked like animal flesh and blood; I could make out an eyeball, two hoofs and a piece of snout. The smell was unbearable.

“Fuck,” Toni whispered.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Ame echoed.

“I really wasn’t expecting this, you know?” I said. I was stunned, but beneath my shock I could feel the slow but steady rise of anger.

“I’m going to kill him,” I said quietly.

Toni pulled back her hoodie and stood in front of me, putting her face in my face.

“You think?” she said.

“I don’t care what happens, after,” I said, “I just want to strangle him and watch his eyeballs pop from his skull. Then I’m going to punch a hole in his sternum with a fork. And with the same fork I’m going to rip open his balls.”

“Very nice,” Toni said.

Ame closed her mouth with one hand and with the other hand pointed to the dark corner of the living room. Andrea was on her knees looking up at us with unusually large eyes, one hand digging in the belly of a dog’s carcass, and the other hand feeding her face with the entrails of the dead dog. Her mouth was hanging open, thick ropes of mucus and blood hung from her bloody lips; her mouth chewing loudly.

“Hello darling,” she said, her voice a raspy, air-sucking sound.

“Hello Andrea,” I said.

“I see you’ve brought your Japanese whores. Hello Toni. I see you’re well. And not all dead.”

Toni raised her hand and waved a little.

“You must be Ame. You have a vicious punch for someone so sexy. It’s just not fair.” Andrea started to choke on the dog meat, and then she threw up. Gush of green vomit poured out from her screaming mouth, creating a sizeable pool of thick gunk on the marble floor. After a while she stopped puking, her shoulders were still shivering from the explosion. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Oops,” she said and giggled.

“You’re not going to fly away, again are you?” I asked.

“Maybe,” she said.

“I wish you wouldn’t. Its not natural.”

Andrea scuttled over to us suddenly, causing both Toni and Ame to shriek and tumble over each other to get away from her. I realized that Andrea was wearing the same short shorts and the small tank top. Her skin was filthy.

“Anton did this to you, didn’t he?” I asked.

She nodded, smiling. “He fucked me good and dirty.”

“I’m sure he did,” I said.

“I’m his whore now,” she said, standing up finally.

“I’m sure you are,” I said.

She tilted her head and peered into my face, closing in.

“You shouldn’t judge us. Its true love. Me and Anton. Oh hi Anton,” she said.

I spun around; I caught a glimpsed of his perfect smile, which was shortly eclipsed by his large fist. I dropped and my face smacked the cold floor. Before I passed out I heard both Ame and Toni gasp.

 

The darkness was never-ending. I was sucked to the floor but I could the dimension of nothingness expand all around me, making me smaller by the second. It was dizzying; to get small so fast; I could even hear the whistling air zipping past.

“Baby, wake up,” she whispered.

I was tied to the single beam in the middle of the living room with both my hands behind me.

Andrea whispered in my ear, “Anton is going to kill you he’s going to slit your throat and let the blood pour out. You’ll die from rapid blood loss.”

I could see Toni sprawled face down on the floor several feet from me. Ame was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Ame?” I said.

Andrea bit into my earlobe and tore off a piece.

“Anton’s schooling her on how to be whore.”

I didn’t scream out, I held it all in and shut my eyes. My hands were not that tightly bound. All I needed was half an inch of slack; that was enough. I struggled like mad but there wasn’t enough slack to make it work. Andrea laughed out loud, that little piece of my ear fell out from her mouth and landed with small plop on the floor.

“Its too late. He’s done her. She’s his now. She’s like me now.”

Ame crossed in front of me to get to Toni and knelt beside her sister. She was sobbing as she pulled up Toni from her facedown position. Anton had obliterated the remaining half of Toni’s head. It was pulpy mess of hair and smashed skull; no eyeball, no nose, no mouth. Ame cried out loud with her head hanging back, crying to the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s