The Prude

Posted: July 28, 2012 in Short Story

“What the Robot Chicken was that?” whispered a terrified high school senior, Tom.  Blood had spattered his letterman and began to dry on his dark brown hair.  He reached out for his girlfriend through the open door. She wasn’t the one he had wanted but she was the one that would put out. He was tired of being picked on and wanted to know what was so awesome about sex and she, Sandy, would let him uncover that. He pulled her close to him allowing her hard nipples to write across his chest. He slammed the half rotted door shut and they all began piling anything they could against it – securing it.

“Tom man. I think Chris… I think…” Chuck, started weeping. His nose became a thick runny faucet that ran towards the ground at great speed. “What is going on?” Chuck whined. Tom turned to see the blotchy face of his friend.
He’s losing it, he thought.

He tossed his jacket over the shivering Sandy and moved to lay a hand on Chuck. He only recoiled into the corner.

“I don’t know man.” Tom leaned up against the only door in – assured that whatever killed Chris would be there soon. They weren’t professional ninjas after all. A blind person could have seen and can now hear where they are. The house was old and rotted out. They could see the floors below them through the missing boards. Tom held no illusions.  He hated himself now more than ever.

It was supposed to be a night to remember. Loose girls and jocks, an old abandoned house, who knew it belonged to Mike Myers, or Freddie, or Jason, or leather-face, or who so ever! This stupid meaningful sexy night has turned into hell on earth and Tom blamed himself. He picked the place after all. How was he supposed to know it was inhabited by a serial killer. Granted they’re a dime a dozen now a days but wow.

Tom looked over Sandy as she huddled around his legs.

While you’re down there. He thought. He smirked suddenly.

“What’s so funny?” Sandy scratched. Her voice was like finger nails on a chalk board. Every time she talked it made him miss… well, the real love of his life. The prude.

He could feel the door behind his back. No one pushed against the other side and no footsteps could be heard. Once Tom could move without shaking he started looking for another way out. There were two windows to this room and he ran for them both at the same time. After an awkward half step he picked one and tried to open it. It was nailed.

“Was that, who was that…” Sandy began to sweat as she pulled Tom’s letterman tighter around her. Out of the corner of her eye she spied something on the shoulder and did her best not to scream as a fragment of skull and hair cleared in her view.

“Come here.” He whispered waving them on. Chuck wiped his snot on his jacketed arm. It glistened in the moonlight shining in through the grimy windows.

“Can we pull this up.” Tom grabbed the end of a nail. He growled as he squeezed his fingers as tightly as he could together. As he pulled up on the rusty fine head of the nail he sliced into his fingers opening them up and painting the window with blood. Sandy began to scream.

“Ouch.” He recoiled sticking the wounded appendages into his mouth sucking down the iron. Sandy grabbed his wet hand and wrapped the bottom of her shirt around his fingers and put some pressure on them. She was oddly focused.

Chuck ran to the other window. He grabbed the nail with both hands and squeezed as tight as he could. Blood ran down the window and dripped onto the sill. Suddenly the window broke. Glass cascaded down through the floors shattering. Tom suddenly felt dumb.

“Great idea.” He whispered. Chuck turned grasping at an arrow that had buried itself deep inside his chest. Tom caught Chuck as he was falling backwards and laid him on the floor.

Sandy came crawling over. Tom had to fight back a few nasty thoughts. She grabbed the end of the arrow and counted to three with her fingers. On three she pulled. Tom wasn’t sure he ever knew Sandy. She was calm, quick to respond, and her voice didn’t seem so painful.

Chuck screamed as it took two hands and all the strength Sandy could muster to remove the arrow. She tossed it out the open window.

“Wait.” Tom moved to grab it but Sandy was to fast. “break it first.”

“I’m using your jacket.” She spoke mechanically.

“What?” Tom asked feeling even more confused.

“I have to put pressure on the wound!” Sandy yelled. Her hands were shacking.

Tom helped Sandy off with the jacket and helped apply pressure. As their hands met blood pooled up over the yellow letterman.

“You’re going to get blood on it!” Sandy yelled and tossed the jacket out the window.

“What the…” Tom yelled. “Why did you just throw it out the window?”

“We need to go.” Sandy stood up as Tom pulled her down.

“The windows” Tom whispered ducking past, “and Chuck!”

“We need to go!” She yelled again standing up but this time eluding Tom’s grasp. She ran over to the door clearing a path and opened it. Tom was up, no longer caring what may fly in from the window. He was more concerned over what might walk in through the door. Sandy was frozen. Tom shoved her and grabbed hold of the door and was ready to slam it when he saw Michelle, the prude. She was still wearing her cheerleader outfit from the game. Tom was relieved to see her.

Finally the woman I’d rather die with, he smiled. Her mascara had run and her lipstick was smudged, but she was still everything Tom ever wanted, or needed. Her dark curly hair was made curlier by her sweat and her yellow cheer-leading outfit seemed to be a bit tighter.

“What are you doing here.” Tom yelled grabbing the letter on her chest and getting his first feel from her ample breasts. He could have lived in that moment forever.

He pulled Michelle into the room and re-secured the door. He found it difficult to let her go as she slowly looked up at him.

“Stay away from the windows.” He told her and forced her to get down. He had waved to Sandy but could care less if she went the way of Chuck or Chris.

“I, I,” Michelle started to speak, “your ring.”

“My ring?” Tom was at a loss for words. He had forgotten to take his class ring back after they broke up. In truth he didn’t want it back. He wanted to experience Sandy and then run back to Michelle for the happily ever after.

How did she know I’d be here, Tom wondered.

“Why would you come he…” something sharp was pressing into his yielding stomach. In Michelle’s dainty manicured hands was a black double edged blade with his ring barely fitting over the point. Sandy moved behind him gently grabbing his shoulders as Michelle leaned forward and pushed the metal into his soft stomach.

“Here.” Michelle said as his flesh spread open for her, wet and pulsing.


Leave your mark or go for a walk. Both sound pretty nice.

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