The Tease

A False Fairy Tale

2012-06-19T23:35:00.000-04:00

Once there was a special girl

Who I needed far more than she needed me.

Under a disguise of an unknowing

The dynamic morphed into a different shape.

Thump, thump, thump went the heart

Each moment flashing images

Or so I thought

Cant we go back
to the way things were
before I messed it up
with my pounding heart.

Was I only good when you needed someone to care and listen?

The silver lining in a world of misery.

The feeling between us was only story.

Rain falls from the sky

Washing away memories

As they float by.

I only wanted to hear you voice.

But no answer has a limited choice.

Was it love or just the feeling of being needed by another person?

I was always there
to hear you complain
     and make you feel at ease
       by taking away the pain
To give you suggestions
on how to deal.
    No matter what I thought
      the illusion wasn't real.

Did I imagine more than actually existed between us?

You need time figure yourself out

and what you need to achieve.

I came to terms with myself long ago

and know what I need

I thought it was you.

I wanted it to be us.

The boat got rocked.

The situation got tossed.

Is being numb better than mending a broken heart?

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to www.seankimmel.com

The Hard Way

2010-11-22T07:57:00.000-05:00

The decibel level deafened as the ref's hand slapped the mat for the third time. He signaled for the bell, which the time keeper beat rapidly. Cheers rang through the arena.

Usually, Felix didn't enjoy these types of matches dubbed “death matches”. It wasn't because the announcer was weary of blood. He had been witness to gallons of red pouring from wrestler’s wounds during his thirty years in the business. There was just no good reason to throw guys in the ring with weapons unless the angle built to it. He needed a reason for the men to want to beat each other in such a violent manner. The epic battle he just witnessed had such a reason.

The two men, Jackson Deranged and Dan Popper, rivaled each other for the better part of the last seven years in one wrestling promotion after another across the globe. The most brutal battles took place in Japan, where they had obtained almost legendary status. It is an extremely honorable status for two gajins.

Felix shouted into the microphone, "I've watched several matches between these two warriors and none were as great as the match we just witnessed. This is a classic that we all talk about for years to come." The line would become a piece of wrestling history, marked forever on the high grossing DVD. "I honestly do not know if Popper and Deranged can top this one, but their feud will rage on."

Popper stood in the ring with his hand raised. His opponent's blood smeared across his chest. His light brown hair clumped together in a much darker hue. The capacity crowd cheered, feeding his adrenaline fix like a heroin junkie. These moments are why he wrestled, even though his body told him to hang it up. Twenty years was a long time to abuse one's body in this business. He looked over at Deranged. His face was sporting a fresh, crimson mask as he rose wearily to his feet. In a moment of sportsmanship and respect, Popper held out his hand.

The New York City crowd erupted with a "shake his hand" chant.

The shifty heel checked out the rabid fans. The man knew exactly what he needed to do. Leave them wanting more. He slowly nodded his head in agreement and stuck out his right hand. The two men locked hands. Few people caught Deranged slip his free hand inside his jeans pocket. A smile come over his face as the left hand reappeared with brass knuckles. The left cross hit Popper right square in the temple. The man went down to the canvas instantly, out cold.

The crowd's instantly shifted to loud chorus of "boos" and obscenities as Felix shouted into the microphone. "That no good Jackson Deranged. Even when he loses, the scoundrel comes out on top."

Deranged flipped the middle finger at his fallen opponent and shouted "I hate fucking hate you Popper! You'll never have my respect!" As he glared at the fans, the man knew they were eating out his hand. He would miss this rush from performing in front of a crowd. He exited the ring, paying no attention to anything the fans shouted. He played the role, ignored them, and walked through the curtain.

As Jackson Deranged entered the locker room, the rest of the boys scattered from the television and went over to him. They complemented him on a fine performance. He humbly thanked them and watched the monitor as Popper rose to the feet. He grabbed the microphone and said something to the crowd. By eruption of cheers, Deranged could only guess the speech was about getting revenge. "Time to check out the damage," he said to himself. He went over to a full length mirror and examined the deep laceration which split open the top of his head. Stitches were going to be needed.

The same crowd of guys and girls surrounded Dan Popper when he entered the locker room. After he briefly thanked them for the accolades, it was time to see the doctor. When he entered the room, Jackson already sat on the bench being attended to. Their eyes locked. Dan cracked a grin and smiled. "Brassknucks. Are you fucking serious?"

"The idea just came to me. Forgot I had ‘em stashed," Jackson said in his thick, Virginian slang. "Plus, you gotta leave them wantin' more. Right?"

Dan eased onto the bench next to him. "You said it brother."

"You think that match was as good as everyone’s sayin'?" Secretly Jackson thought it might be their best match. Even better than Puerto Rico, a packed house three years ago watched the match finished in a thirty minute draw. Nearly the whole arena rushed the ring, choosing the side of their favorite. Amazingly both men walked away unhurt by the mob. Apparently the damaged they inflicted on each other ended up being enough to satisfy the mass’s blood lust.

"Hell, I don’t know. It was all a blur. But everything we did out there tonight just felt right."

The two men weren’t out in the ring thinking. The two wrestlers only reacted; to each other and to the crowd’s response.

"I'll drink to that."

"Me too, Jax. After a long, hot shower to sooth these aching bones."

Dan felt the abuse on his body more and more every week. He was forty-one years old and most days he hoppled around like a man twice his age. Something needed to change if wanted to continue working in the ring. Perhaps retirement loomed on the horizons.

In this particular city, many of the wrestlers went to a bar called the Knee-Jerk after the show. The bar was a large, local place where they could unwind and not get hassled too much by the fans wanting to talk, take a picture, or get an autograph. Most of the fans who came here left them alone and treated them normal folks. A decent crowd of woman always hung out there. And the regulars usually didn't start shit with them because of their line of work. Occasionally a drunk got tough and spouted off about wrestling being fake, which is never a good idea to say in front of guys and girls who physically get hit and dropped on their backs for a living.

Fake. Not at all.

Predetermined. Absolutely.

The days of keeping people from peaking behind the curtain were long over thanks to the internet. The secrets of the business were exposed. It changed wrestling as much as any other form of entertainment. Kayfabe died when the digital age became king.

The good aspect of the industry secrets being out in the open was they didn’t have to play the role in outside the ring. They could hang like normal friends. And if any fan gave them shit, Dan would simply say “if the man who beat my ass tonight wants to buy me a drink, then I sure as hell will let them.”

Jackson checked out a pack of women roaming around the bar. "You think they’re all rats?"

"Nah. But I do think a fair amount are out to get fucked tonight. A woman doesn't walk around with her ass cheeks hanging out of cut off jeans and her belly button showing without sending a message."

"A message my friend, aint no a green light."

"You are correct. But it surely is not a red light either, Jax. It’s more like a yellow light. Proceed with caution."

“Try and get some tail then. What do I care? I am, after all, a happily married husband and father.”

The bartender plops two fresh mugs in front of them. "From those guys over there." He pointed towards a table of three guys who barely looked of drinking age wearing wrestling shirts. They tipped their bottles to the warriors. Both men nodded back with a gesture that said thank you.

Dan took a long gulp from the old mug and finished it off. "The only way we're going to top the match tonight is by dying in the fucking ring."

Jackson replied, "The ultimate death match." Both men laughed at the notion.

"There can only be one."

The idea sparked in Jackson’s brain. "We'd sell the shit out the DVD. Remember that old Faces of Death bullshit when we’re younger. It'd get nuthin' on Ultimate Death."

"The fucking blood marks would crave a DVD like that," Popper said as he grabbed the fresh, frosty mug. "There’s only one downside."

"What's that, Popper?"

"Death."

A wrestler would always be remembered if a true ultimate death match was held. It would be legendary and a helluva way to go out, especially if a person had cancer rapidly eating away at their liver. It would be a perfect solution for a person who could never get health insurance because of the risk factors involved with their job. The resolution for a man named Jackson Deranged.

He found out the results about a week ago. Abdominal pains forced him to make a doctor's appointment. He thought maybe an internal injury occurred during a match. The situation turned out to be far worse. More tests were needed for a proper diagnosis.

The tests were taken. Days passed when Jackson received the call asking him to come into the Doctor’s Office. They found a tumor on his liver. The day after, he saw a specialist. The tumor could not be cut out. This doctor estimated Jackson to live around six more months. Options were limited. Chemotherapy could ease the pain and possibly shrink the tumor, which could give him some more time. Jackson declined treatments. The doctor wrote a prescription to deal with pain. Maybe he would look into holistic medicines.

In just a few days the man went from being a thirty-five year old with the world by the balls to being dead with in the year. He had no family of his own, not even a steady girlfriend. He was a man alone, except for a handful of close friends. Jackson told no one about his condition.

The only place he felt alive was between the ropes. The only place where the disease didn't consume his thoughts was inside the ring. He could take the pain but he couldn't handle not having the adrenaline rush from the live audience.

"You'd go over," he said at a barely audible level.

"What?" Dan became confused by the sudden change in tone. "Why would you or anyone want to sacrifice yourself in a real death match?"

"There be reasons. Besides, you got Becky and the kids at home waitin' fer ya. I aint got no one."

Dan couldn't believe the statement. Jackson seemed to be actually serious about the death match concept. This had to be a rib. "Get your head straight. This shit is crazy talk." Dan patted his old friend on the shoulder. "I'm taking a piss."

"Yeah. Crazy talk." He slammed down his beer and watched the suds trickle down the side of the mug. He wondered how much he should be drinking with his condition and his pain killers. Probably none. He waved the bartender over.

Popper awoke in his hotel bed. The time was 10:42am. It sat in the middle of a cheap, little room where the frills were nonexistent. The room had a bed and shower but more importantly was clean and inexpensive. He tried to save money any way he could on the road.

The death match conversation replayed in head. Jackson had never acted in such a joking manner on the subject before. In fact, most wrestlers didn't talk about death. It always loomed about them while in the ring. One wrong move or a person gets slightly out of position or an object moves a different way than expected and instantly your life can change. Serious injury could occur. Permanent injury could happen, leaving you paralyzed. And even death made a stop every once in a while. The men and women involved in violent form of entertainment knew the risks but rarely discussed death.

Knees creaked and backbones snapped as Popper stood up. A few minutes of stretching helped to take out the kinks out.

He dialed a number on his cell phone. "Hey baby...Sore...We torn it down last night...Late this afternoon. But I'll be home by dinner. How are the kids?...Alright. See you soon. Love you....Bye."

A grumble in his stomach informed him food time was near. He called Jackson.

The Waffle House became a popular stop for the friends on the road. The food was nothing fancy but it did the job.

The young, brown haired waitress refilled their coffee mugs for about the tenth time and smiled as she walked away.

Jackson wiped at the last bite of his biscuits and gravy. "Did ya think it over?"

There the question hung thick in the air.

"No,” Dan replied. “I told you last night. The idea is fucking crazy."

"And I told ya there reasons to do the death match."

"Then explain to me what those reasons are, Jackson."

He wanted to tell someone and unburden his soul. As the cancer ate away at his organ, the secret ate away at his mind. Fuck being macho. His mouth opened to clear the air, but a different sentence escaped. "I can't tell ya yet."

"And here I always imagined we were good buddies." He slid the plate away. "Guess, I was wrong."

The words were said in the half joking tone. He knew Dan was attempting to bait the secret out of him. Tricky. "Hold that bullshit right there, hoss. We is the best of budds. Ya know that."

"Then why wont you tell me what's a matter?"

Dan’s eyes locked on him. The stone cold stare always sent chills across his body. "I want to. Really. But now aint the time."

The waitress placed the check down in front of them. "Thanks guys. Come see me again." The men nodded and thanked her. She darted off without hearing the response. Other customers needed service.

"Then the answer will always be no," Dan said.

"What'cha talkin' 'bout now?"

"The match. If you are unable to tell me what ever it is you're hiding, then I cannot accept doing a match with these ramifications. It's that simple, Jax."

"Ya can’t confuse me that way. First we talkin' about friendship then ya reverse the talk back to the death match." Dan wasn't the only who could be tricked and manipulated. Jackson had done a fair share in his day as well. "What if we tweaked the idea a bit?" His friend's gaze didn't turn away. The hook was planted. “Ya know, advertise the same. ‘The Ultimate Death Match', two men enter but only one leaves...alive."

"Sounds a little bit too carny to me."

"Shit, we wrasslers. There’s a touch of carny in all of us who can promote."

"I suppose you are correct."

He had Dan's attention."Anyways, we don't deliver on the payoff....exactly. Shit. Ya believin' I want to die. Ya be the crazy one, Popper. Not me."

"Maybe. It could be our final big, money match. We can finally start teaming up instead of beating the shit out of others. Save some wear and tear on our bodies."

That’d be nice, Jackson thought. Too bad that day would never come around. He slammed the remaining coffee down.

Dan continued, "I'll think about it. And I'll need to lay it out for Becky."

Jackson smiled at his selling job. He knew Dan better than almost anyone. This concept was a hard one to get him convinced.

"But you need to tell me what's wrong. Soon. For now, we must find a promoter and a place to sanction the match."

"I got some ideas on people. Let's continue this on the way to the airport."

The two tossed the money on the bill and started their journeys home.

Dan and Becky lay naked underneath their sheets. Their fluids drying after the bout of lovemaking. The common ritual for the couple after Dan returned home from a trip, no matter if was only day or a month. He nestled her body against his own, stoking his hand up and down her curves. Twelve years and Becky still did it for him. Sure she packed on a few extra pounds these days. Three kids in ten years can change a woman's physique. Him being on the road over half the year couldn't help the situation much either. Always leaving her to raise the children and work her own full time job at a local bank. It'd be a little easier for them once he retired from wrestling. They saved a decent amount of money over his career and lived modestly. He could book a handful of matches a year, go to conventions, and be home more.

He loved this incredible woman with every ounce of passion in his body. He owed it to her.

“Dan," she whispered.

"Yeah baby."

"I've need to tell you something." She looked into his eyes.

He realized whatever she had to say was important. A lump of fear rose inside as the first thought was about one of the kids. Family issues didn’t care how tired you were. They came rapidly at all hours of the day. "Fire away."

Becky hesitated for a second. She took a deep breathe and revealed the news. "I'm pregnant."

He relaxed. Having another child would be difficult but not the end of the world. "How can that be? We've only finished a few minutes ago."

"Your seeds are quick to penetrate." She playfully slapped his scarred chest.

"How far along?

"Over a month. Not exactly sure. I got an appointment this week." After three children she knew the symptoms and a home pregnancy test confirmed.

"Wow. Number four. And here I thought we were finished having kids."

"Me too. But it happens."

"Better schedule myself appointment too. It's time to get snipped. Child number five would put us in the poor house for sure."

"I think we'll do fine."

He kissed her. "I think so too. We'll just make some adjustments."

"I love you Dan."

"Back at you, hon." He thought about the Ultimate Death Match idea until sleep over took him.

"Are you positive?" Jackson couldn’t believe the news. Dan had sworn up and down that he would never have another child. Life sometimes has other plans.

Dan spoke into the phone, "Yeah. It's a good thing Becky has insurance through work. Listen, I’ve thought long time about the match. We need to work out the hook and great finish so fans wont shit all over it.”

“You’re gonna do it? Really?”

“Yes. I’ll do it. My family will need the kind of payout this match should bring."

"Are you on her insurance policy?"

“Of course. I'm a stay at home dad. There’s no way an insurance company would touch me if they knew the truth. At least not without a huge cost."

The two friends were going through with the idea. The plan was coming together.

Jackson said, “I’ll put the call into Ito and see if he's interested. Then Ramirez and do the same."

"Hell, maybe we'll get a bidding war?"

A larger payout would satisfy both men.

"Who knows? But I think yer right. Mexico and Japan be the only places to sanction a match like this and still get a huge crowd. Maybe Puerto Rico, but Lamos won’t pony up the cash."

“I’ll give him a call to see. He’s always liked me. No sense in excluded any promoter. Talk to you later Jackson.”

“See ya bud.”

Takamori Ito ended up with the better offer. Both men were to receive twice their usual booking fee, five percent of the gate each, one percent of the total PPV buys, and three percent of the total DVD sales for the first two years. The payout was unheard of for two wrestlers. Then again the match had a unique spin.

Despite the contract Ito offered the men, even with the fantastic undercard matches he had planned, this show could set the promoter up an easy street.

The advertisements flooded the media all over the globe for three months. The hype machine called the internet built the match. The promo’s each man cut helped to raise the ticket sales.

People really believed they had a serious issue with each other.

The ink dried on the final page of the documents. Jackson Deranged aka William Jackson name scribbled on the line. The lawyer took the document. "It's official now Mr. Jackson. We'll take care of everything as you have requested." He shook the yellow toned hand of his client. "Is there anything else we can do for Mr. Jackson?"

"Naw," he muttered. The tears welled up in his eyes. "My life seems so final now. The endin' close. It be alright if I set in here a spell a collect myself."

"Take all the time you need." The lawyer placed a sympathetic hand on the big man’s shoulder.

"Mr. Douglass."

“Yes.”

"Comin' face to face with yer own mortality is a real bitch."

"I can only imagine, Mr. Jackson. You let me know if you need anything else. Any time of day." And the finely dressed man with graying hair walked out the conference room door.

What was he thinking? The match was less than a month away. He was in no shape to compete. At least twenty-five unwanted pound melted off in the last few weeks. He was always tired and had dizziness. The match was going to suck.

At least his finances were in order. Some went to a sister whom he rarely spoke to and seen even less. Most was going to the kids of John Popper. A college fund to help out his best friend's family.

He knew the money, however, would never help Popper cope with the guilt of the match's outcome.

The day had arrived. The two friends had talked often during this stretch but rarely saw each other. They were only booked on the same show four times during the stretch. They even took separate flights to Japan.

The two warriors stood in the locker room. They sketched out a couple of spots for the match. When dealing with weapons, a wrestler can never actually predict how those weapons will react. A ladder can always fall the wrong way. The steel support of a table can gash the skin. The pieces of shattered glass from light tubes can travel in any direction.

"You look like shit, buddy. And have for about a month. So, I'm just going to sit here and wait for you to tell me what the fuck is wrong."

Jackson owed his best friend an explanation. He promised. The withered man began. "I'm sorry fer not tellin' ya this sooner, Popper. You deserved to know before. I've just been scared is all.”

The two men were as close as brothers. They shared secrets on the road which no one else knew. Dan said, “Don’t get shy on me now. I’ve always been here for you buddy. And whatever you’re dealing with, my stance isn’t changing.”

The man spoke slowly. The moment was far more difficult than he anticipated. “I found out that… I got... well... I got liver cancer."

"Shit.” Dan started piecing things together, Jackson being tired and losing weight and skin pigment discoloration. How could he have been so ignorant not to see the signs earlier? “I hoped it wasn't anything serious."

"This is gonna be my final match. I’m goin’ out on top of my game, with a match to be remembered for the ages." Or at least a moment people would not soon forget.

Dan tried to put a positive spin on the situation, for his benefit and his friend. "No way man. You'll beat this shit. Before too long you'll be back to old rough self."

Jackson laughed weakly. "Naw. It's terminal ole friend. And I aint got a long time left either."

The tears flowed from Dan’s eyes. "You're a selfish son of a bitch for not telling me sooner." He embraced his friend. Two of the most dangerous men in hardcore wrestling let their emotions pour out.

"Why changed now," Jackson said. "I've got a favor to ask ya."

"Name it." If there was a way to help his friend, then Dan Popper would certainly do it.

"I've been planning sumthin fer awhile. I took out a life insurance policy years ago. After I found out about this cancer, I changed the benefactor to be your kids. It aint much, but they can have real future and not bust their ass doing the crazy ass shit we do."

Dan was overwhelmed by the generosity. "I can’t accept that, Jax."

"I know. But I aint got family of my own and yers is the closest thing I got." Jackson loved the ‘bunch of rascals’, the name he gave the collective group of Molly, Simon, and Adam. He’d miss not knowing how they’d turn out in live. So much time was ahead of them.

"Thanks." Words couldn’t express the gratitude.

The time had come to reveal his plan. This would be even harder than telling Dan about cancer. "There's one other thing. In case of an accidental death, the sum triples. There needs to be an accident tonight."

The words took their time soaking into Dan’s brain. He finally realized the connotation. "No. No fucking way. You're asking me to ki-"

"I know what I'm asking. Make it look like an accident. You'll come out clean." Saying the request made Jackson feel even lower than thinking it. “The match has been built up this way.”

"Listen. If you want to go out there tonight and leave it all in the ring, fine. If you want to take out your frustrations on my body, I'm cool with that too. Fuck it. Go out on top and pin me, I could care less. But I am not going to murder you."

"OK. Forget I brought it up. I just thought..."

"Forget whatever you were thinking."

The two sat in silence, soaking in the conversation.

Dan tried to comfort his friend, even though he was disgusted by the proposition. "We get out of here tonight and leave these people talking about another great match. Then Becky, the kids, and me we'll help out in any way we can. Right to the end."

"Thanks." Jackson felt lower than low.

"I'm going to finish getting ready." Dan walked over to his locker and began his prematch ritual.

Jackson sat on the bench, hating himself. If Dan couldn’t do the deed, he certainly understood. There were other ways to make a dying look accidental. One way or another, the match was going to live up to the hype of Death Match.

The crowd waited in anticipation for the main event to begin. This is why they came.

The ring announcer explained the rules to the "Ultimate Death Match". Two men enter the ring and the winner is the man who survives by incapacitating his opponent to immobility or death.

The announcer began the introductions. “From Clearwater, Florida…Dan Popper!”

The intelligent light swirled around as music blared throughout the arena. Popper hit the entrance ramp as the pyrotechnics fired off. He strolled to ring with confidence, wearing camouflage pants and a sleeveless shirt. He bumped fists with the fans as he walked by. He checked barb wire which surrounded the ring ropes. He signaled the crowds. They roared for the fan favorite. He carefully entered and soaked in the cheers.

The ring announcer continued. “And his opponent. Hailing from Richmond, Virginia. Jackson Deranged!”

Deranged bursted threw the curtain sporting cut off blue jean shorts and white tank top shirt. His own music choice blared while moving light spectacle occurred. He’s the bad guy and acted the roll perfectly to the fans. The showed him how they feel with a chorus of boos. He thrived on their screams.

Jackson never took his eyes off Popper as he walked to the ring. He started to climb in, and then changed his mind. He inspected underneath the ring and pulled out a 3'x6' window pane. He slide it inside the ring.

Jackson jumped in the ring; all the ailments are temporarily cured by the rush. The ring is his home. He immediately insulted the opponent, “I’m gonna wipe the mat with your blood, pussy.”

Popper pushed him away, “Just try it. I’m not going anywhere.”

The ref broke up the ruckus to prove he has the situation under control. He signaled for the bell. The wild arena quieted down to a whisper. In Japan this act is considered a sign of respect.

The dance initiated.

Deranged slapped Popper across the face.

Popper slapped back.

Deranged grabbed his opponent in a waist lock, and planted Popper with a Belly to Belly Suplex. He straddled Popper on the ground and threw vicious haymakers repeatedly. Deranged started to flex and taunt the fallen hero. Deranged picked Popper up by the hair and whipped him into the barb wired ropes.

Popper felt the barbs pierce his skin as warm blood trickled down his skin. He screamed. He saw Deranged motoring towards him at full sped. He lowered a shoulder to stop the charging madman. While Deranged was momentarily stunned, he tossed him into the barb wire ropes and followed it up with a short arm clothesline for emphasis. The momentum takes the Deranged to the floor.

Popper slid out and grabbed a steel chair. He placed it into position. Popper picked up Deranged and slammed him onto the unforgiving steel.

Deranged returned to his feet. He connected with the elbow on Popper’s forehead. The force broke open the skin, the hard way. Blood dribbled from the forehead wound. Deranged measured Popper up and dropped a closed fist. The gash grew wider as warm crimson oozed. A razor blade won’t be needed tonight.

Popper mumbled, “That fucking hurt. Tease the wire.”

Deranged lumbered toward him only to be greeted with a drop kick to the knees. Popper grabbed the man and tossed him end over end into the barb wire ropes. The sharp barbs tear tiny pieces of flesh away. Deranged flipped over and crashed to the floor.

The crowd gasped in horror and excitement.

Deranged shook off the blow and decided to find help under the ring. A wooden table got nominated for the job. He placed it against the guard rail. He turned around just in time to see Popper body flying out of the ring. Deranged braced himself for the catch. One body crashed into the other and both men hit the table. It shattered into pieces. The two men lay out on the concrete floor, selling the move.

“Do me the favor,” Deranged whispered.

“Not a chance.”

“I’ll die from being outside the spotlight anyways.”

“Never.” Popper stood up and squeezed his arm around Deranged’s head. He punched the man in the face.

Deranged screamed, pushed him away, and returned the punch.

They punch each other hard, repeatedly, back and forth. They both draw back and simultaneously made contact with their knuckles. The men felt the pain.

They slowly moved back inside the ring. Popper came up from behind and bulldoged Deranged onto the canvas. He covered.

The ref counted. “One.” A hand hit the mat. “Two.” The hand hit the mat again. Jackson kicked out.

Both men returned to their feet. They locked up.

Jackson begged, “I’m tired. Can’t last much longer. You need to throw me through the glass. We need the big finish to deliver.”

Popper replied, “No. We are staying away from the glass.”

“Not if I can move us there.” Deranged whipped Popper towards the corner.

He put on the brakes just before he collided with the glass. He turned around to see Jackson coming full speed. Popper knelt down to attempt a body blow.

Deranged fooled him and jumped in the air for body press. He sailed over Popper. Only his elbow connected with Popper’s face. Deranged managed to twist his body during flight to absorb the impact.

There is no good way to get tossed through a glass.

Deranged feet hit first and shattered the glass. The rest of his body followed. Small portions of skin scraped against the jagged edges. Blood seeped from the wounds. His momentum was halted by the ring post. His body jerked upon impact. His neck snapped back with great force.

A large, uneven piece hung from the bottom of the frame. The sharp glass remained still. It pierced the back of his neck. The force implanted it three inches deep.

Popper rose up. The elbow knocked him silly for a moment. Then he witnessed his friend twitching. Bloody.

Shock and fear fell upon the already silent crowd.

Dan rushed over to help. The ref assisted him.

The twitching stopped.

Medics ran out to help. Mr. Ito and other staff members came out as well.

They were all too late. Jackson stayed motionless. Dead.

Tears flowed from Dan’s eyes. His friend had his final wish carried out. He didn’t cause the death, but he could have done more to stop Jackson.

The night would haunt him for the rest of his life. Both men just performed their final match.

For more go to www.seankimmel.com

Mr. Average

2010-08-22T10:18:00.000-04:00

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Golden showers sell!

Dildos sell!

Blow up dolls sell!

Orgies sell!

Sperm sells!

Squirting sells!

Prostitution sells!

Web cams sell!
Flesh sells. Period.

The cycle continues on and on and on.

No one’s claiming you’re into all of those kinky, sexual deviances. Or any of the ones not mentioned. Damn sure a few tickle your fancy.

We all have our own pleasures, remember. Secret fantasies dance around your head. Once regular sex becomes boring you move on up to the next level. When the role playing and slight physical aggression gets dull you graduate to the next level. After the Beniot beads, cock rings, and nipple clamps become passé you step up to the next level.

Most individuals keep these acts buried deep inside them where no one can find out. The unmentionable is often best left behind closed doors. You don’t need co-workers to find out about the S&M and bondage. You don’t care for family members to hear about an orgy at a swinger’s party or the partner swapping. You don’t want friends to suspect you’re homo because you jerked off while thinking about the buff, naked guy standing in the gym locker room shower. And you damn sure never intend for anyone to find out you went to Southeast Asia to fuck a twelve year old girl. How could you show your face in public again? Not with these dirty secrets out in the open.

At some point during your lifetime, you will be photographed or video taped in the nude and be online for the world to see. It’s just a theory. If you don’t put the pictures online yourself, then another person can always make the decision for you.

It may have been the week you spent drunk at Mardi Gras exposing breasts for beads. It may have been the Spring Break wet T-shirt contest where you got caught up in the moment, ripped off all your clothes, and bent over for the entire world to see your waxed vagina. It may have been the day you decided to whip you cock out at the girl living across the street for no reason. She snapped a picture on her camera phone. Soon after every telephone pole in the neighborhood posted the penis picture with the word “perv” printed at the top. It may be a former lover deciding the sex tape made one night needs to be seen by the world. Famous last words, “This is only for us to enjoy”.

You had better burn the flash card and smash the mini DV tape and delete all the files while there’s still time. We are in the information age. You’re precious and private genitals are a mere scan and upload away from millions to view.

We are all voyeurs at heart, remember. We want to see the goods. Remember to close your curtains because someone is watching.

The cycle continues on and on and on.

The availability of the porn on the internet, combined with all of the online dating gave me an idea. Dating services are all over the cyberspace world. A few are legit. People use them as like a screening service to weed out what they consider undesirables. Sites claim to find the fabled “true love”.

Rule number one about these services: everyone lies. Rule number two: refer back to the first rule. The picture on the profile is five years old and doesn’t reflect the hard living your physical features have endured. Obese people don’t say they weigh three hundred but rather they’re curvy or possess a few extra pounds. The five children at home is a fact which failed to get mentioned. Working it out with your spouse is not the same as being separated.

An individual can sift through the lies and use these sites to prey on the weak. A person can abuse the naive in search of true love and happiness.

There are specific websites set up so people can find others wanting sex. No strings attached fucking; the basic essence of every person’s desire. That’s when my light bulb burned brightly. Use the fuck site hookups to make amateur porn videos. Then start a website and sell the sexcapades. Make some real cash. Escorts used the sites to be discreet. My idea wasn’t much different.

This action was completely against my nature. If you’ve ever noticed the shy guy in the corner surveying the scene, well probably not, but that guy is me. If you’ve happened to run into the quiet guy who nods his head, smiles, and answers in monosyllabic sentences…me again.

Nothing is special about me. My dick wasn’t as big as horse, like the majority male porn performers. My body wasn’t chiseled in granite. I wasn’t overly attractive. My wife called me Mr. Average. She always meant it in a playful way.

Now she was gone. I justified the decision by telling myself to move on. Time may heal all wounds, but time also creates new ones. The need to raise some extra capital was the official objective, not love. I had love once and it almost destroyed me. Twenty-nine and working for someone else grew tiresome. Hell, really I just became sick of working in general. The scam developed into the one shot in my attempt to be lazy for life.

The direct approach became my method of choice. So I paid the monthly membership fee to one of those previous mention adult sex finder sites. I put a picture up containing personal stats and wrote the ad clearly explaining my intentions.

WANTED!

WOMEN IN THE IMMEDIATE AREA TO MAKE ADULT FILMS.

CONTACT ME AT SERIOUS SKIN PRODUCTIONS FOR FULL DETAILS.

Serious Skin Productions was the name of the company I formed. I had an accountant friend from college help out with the paperwork and the little details to make the company legit. Then I maxed out credit cards by purchasing a good digital cameras and a computer with editing software and lighting. In amateur porn, great lighting is a must. I was a one man production crew. It cost me a few thousands to put my plan into action, but as the saying goes…you must spend money to make money.

I also did some research on what it would take to run a website of this magnetude. With a newly purchased server added to the expense, I was ready.

After a week, I checked my personal ad. My expectations were low. I mean who would actually want to take part in this ludicrous idea.

Over thirty messages awaited; all of them wanting to find out more about the sex film in question. Unfortunately most was from other states or simply too far away. Still I had a few interested in the area, which is more than I thought would answer. I replied to all that I considered fuckable. Call me shallow but I'm not going to my dick into someone I find disgusting, especially on video. I thanked the ladies deemed unsuitable and told them someday Serious Skin may be in touch with them. I replied with a similar message to those too far away to do anything. You can never have too many sources on file. I gave all the interested the rundown of my plan.

One man and a camera…me. You come to the location. Sign a release form. Bring an updated STD and blood test. An agreed upon payment based on the acts you are willing to perform. You are free to back out at anytime. Call only if sincerely interested or if you have questions.

Some responded back wanting to know more details, some just wanted to talk to get to know me better, some wondered if this was a legit operation. One lady wanted to do it immediately. I told her to come over on Sunday night. Time to get the dream put in motion. Finally my college education would be put to proper use.

I’m sure the last part sounds a little strange. What does a Bachelor’s degree have to do with pornography? I earned a Bachelor’s Degree in TV & Video Production from (FILL IN THE BLANK) University, one of the top schools in the US for this field of study. However, unless you move to Los Angeles or New York City the film industry is hard to get into. I should say even harder to break into. It doesn’t mean shit to any studio executive how good the script is unless it makes through the chain of command. Most studios won’t even take a script unless submitted by agent. Most agents won’t take a person on as a client unless their work has been solicited. People can’t get hired on a production crew unless they’re part of the union. A person can’t join the union unless they have money for dues. It’s a vicious circle.

Life isn’t exactly how you expected it to turn out. Reality hits. You don’t move to either coast because she doesn’t want to and you don’t want to lose her. So you end up getting a job for a large and prominent AV company in town because you need to money for rent on a shitty apartment and run down vehicle.

You’re first stop on the job totem pole is low man at a hotel. The job is simple. Set up equipment for corporate meetings and occasionally operate the gear. Projection and screen for a PowerPoint presentation, microphones, moving lights…these become your new skill.

You still write scripts because it’s enjoyable. It’s the one escape you have. Maybe someday it’ll get sold, but it’s not important. Sure if you had a choice in the matter, writing would be how you made money. A successful screenplay writer, leading way to directing is the dream.

Back in the real world, you move on up the corporate ladder. You refine technical skills. After about a year you start working out of the main office in town. A new marriage will cause a person to change priorities. You still basically perform the same duties, except you’re now on the road the majority of the time and the scale of the shows are bigger. On a crew with other techs, setting up equipment, running equipment, tearing down equipment. In one city, back home for a brief period, and on to the next city.

Your wife tolerates you being gone because she knows the sacrifice made. And there’s a bloated mortgage to now pay. You never go a day without a phone call. Hearing each other’s voices is what makes the day. It puts a strain on the relationship, even one built on a solid foundation. Both parties find ways to cope.

The travel is nice. You are able to go to cities you may never have visited otherwise. You stay in lush, four and five star hotels you definitely could never afford. But you work for twelve hours a day or more and you never really get to explore the city.

After six years of this, you get tired of the lifestyle. You’re on the road all the time. You miss family functions. You never see old friends. You’re lonely and miss the wife. She wants to start a family, a thought which terrifies.

You can’t eat properly because of the time crunch your under. You grab what available if there’s a free moment. You can’t exercise properly because after the long fucking day, who wants to hit the treadmill or the hotel gym. You get about four hours of sleep each night and tiredness becomes the standard.

Then out of the blue your wife died. Now the world you live in seems meaningless. Being in the house makes the memories flood your mind. You question all the time spent on the road away from her. Life can play cruel jokes on a person.

You retreat from society, from friends, from co-workers. There’s no compliment to makes you strive for a better life. It’s only you and depression. Two more years go by. Now you’re just a zombie going through the motions each day without thinking, hoping for one day not to feel the pain.

The truth is you are lazy and not certain how or when you became this way. You can’t recall if it’s always been a personality trait. The truth is you are scared and tell others you’ve stayed in the Midwest because LA and NYC hold no interest for you. This place is still your home. You tell people writing takes up most of your free time and you’re dabbling with making some shorts films. All of this is more lies to keep up the front. The truth is you’re desire and passion left long ago when she died.

Lonely but don’t want to love. There’s a need for human contact, a touch against your skin. Flesh on flesh. You want to embrace the wife one last time.

Then you have an idea to solve the monetary and lonely problems. Start a porn site. You keep working the day job and hopefully set up a fuck session every few weeks. Edit the footage together. Upload it on the server and make it available for purchase, $4.99 a movie or $19.99 a month for unlimited access.

It was a simple plan. Maybe you’ll even make enough money to quit the day job you grown to hate. To payoff the debts you owe the bank that swallows the paycheck every month. Get away from this wicked town. Start over in a new place where each glance doesn’t bring up the memories of Ally. Take quality time away. Learn how to live once again.

Sunday night arrived. A knock came from the door of my three bedroom house; our first experience as a proud home owners. I answered the door with butterflies in my stomach and an abundance of questions running in my head.

An absolute beauty stood with an inviting smile. Under different circumstances, she’d way out my league. The first thought to race through my mind is why does this girl want to be in a sex movie?

She walked inside with her naturally tanned skin, long legs, and great bubble ass. We sat down for some idle chit chat to break the ice as she drank a glass of red wine. I tried to make her feel comfortable. I asked some background questions, to loosen the tension.

She told me her name, “Lana,” while running fingers through her mid-length, reddish-brown hair. “I’m in the last year at college.” A friend saw the profile. She joined and responded to the ad. She needed money, but wouldn’t specify what for.

“Listen,” she began, “No matter how much talking we do or wine we drink this situation won’t be any less awkward.”

“OK,” are the only syllables I could string together in a sentence.

“I’m down for anything…suck, screw, and even anal,” she hesitated, “as long it pays well.”

She wanted to get down to business. I told her how much the trifecta paid with a facial for the finish. The act being an industry standard but not one I cared to practice. I don’t enjoy dumping on a chick’s faces. It’s not real to life. Sure woman may swallow but how many really want it shot across their eyes, nose, and hair. Not many. And besides, it’s messy and honestly just looks gross. We agreed on not doing the facial.

“Where do I sign?”

I handed her the release form and she inked the document. “Do you have the test results?”

“You had better have one too” she exclaimed. We exchanged papers. It all checked out.

She jumped up and said with zero enthusiasm, “What are we waiting for? Let’s this get this over with.”

Nervous energy pounded my insides. Suddenly I wondered if I could perform. I hadn’t been with a woman in since my wife died. I’ve only had three partners in my entire life.

We moved to the extra bedroom. I could never taint the room where Ally and I slept with these acts. One camera mounted on a tripod was set up for the wide shot. The record button gets pushed. The other camera in my hand, used for POV close ups shots, also gets the button pushed. The little red light glowed. “It’s time to begin”. My heart raced with anxiety.

She babbled into the camera with dirty talk. “You like what you see?”

I lead her down a path like any good director would do. “Strip. Let me see your tight little body.”

She slowly slid out of her taut jeans. She threw the tight pink shirt to the floor. The beauty in her black, lace bra and panties started to act more seductive. She teased and flirted at the camera. She touched her skin slowly and moaned softly. The erotic tease continued. “Do you like it?” she asked playfully when the last stitch of clothing hit the floor. She began rubbing her clit. Slow at first, then faster, and faster. She breathed heavier and panted deeper.

I was bursting at the seams. Watching her through a lens resembling a peephole, my urge to taste her grew. I repositioned the hard cam to a different angle and shot distance. The handheld now placed on a second tripod. My shirt came off and I moved towards her moist vagina, all the while thinking this seemed too romantic for porn. Our eyes met as I looked up at her.

She screamed “Eat me, now!” I performed as instructed. She clamped her silky smooth thighs down over my ears. The kissed her swollen clit and around her plump vulva then moved to the naval to the perky breast with rock hard nipples to her neck to her…she’s ordered me, “No kissing on the mouth”.

“I need to move cameras,” was my reply. So I repositioned the hard cam again and took the other camera back into my hands.

Lana slithered over without any instructions and unbuckled my pants. She took out my stiff cock and placed it between her lips.

I’m amazed the scene doesn’t come to a climax at that instant. Her mouth wrapped around my dick, moving up and down. I nearly exploded as her tongue glided against my shaft leaving a thin string of saliva trickling down. I stopped her. “OK time to move the cameras again.” I repositioned hard cam to a new angle.

Lana lied on her back. Her legs spread open. “Take me”, she said.

I inserted and thrusted. Action repeated with varying rhythms. Each time I felt ejaculation coming on, I stopped to change camera angles and correspond it with the different sexual position. We continued for awhile longer and then repeated the exercise.

“Having to stop all the time isn’t very sexy”.

I responded, “That’s how you make these types of movie. There’s nothing glamorous or sexy about it.” It’s amazing how long you can hold out ejaculating when you stop every few minutes. After four different sexual positions, I am ready to cum the mother lode.

“I want you to fuck my ass”, Lana commanded me. “But be gentle. I’ve never…it’s my first time.”

While lubing her anus, I thought about informing her it’s my first anal as well but kept the information to myself instead. I gently pressed the tip inside as she grunted from the pain. I penetrated further and realized the tightness of her orifice. I almost exploded right on the spot. I changed thoughts. The first thing to pop into my head was what if I pull out my dick and it’s covered in shit. I tried to block the unpleasant image out. The scene had to end.

I moved cameras one last time and ask, “Ready for the finish.”

“Wash your dick off first?”

“What?”

“Well it’s been in my asshole. I’m not putting it near my mouth!”

“No problem.” I respected the logic. I washed off, trying not to lose my erection. I got back to the bed and was half flaccid. I tell her, “It’s gonna take a little more work.”

“Fine.” She took me in her mouth once again.

By now I can see this lady just wanted to be done with the whole ordeal. I concentrated, pulled out from her mouth, and spurted all over her breasts. I handed her a towel and shut off the cameras. “If you want to take a shower feel free…”

“Yes.” And she immediately ran into the bathroom.

I walked to the bathroom door. I heard her crying under the sound of the water falling. I felt bad for my robotic behavior and for her. She has a mystery tucked away. One she didn’t dare let anyone know about. Then suddenly it hit me, “Shit, I forgot to use a condom. Idiot!”

Lana came out and dressed. I paid her. She left. There was very little conversation. I didn’t know what to say. The skill of conversation escaped me as usual. She wanted me keep in contact, just in case.

I basically just paid for sex and filmed it. Soon the images would be out for the world to see. No turning back on the master plan now, everything was already set in motion.

I edited the footage together in a couple of days. The first one completed.

For the record, watching yourself in a fuck movie is damn strange. It’s almost surreal. In fact it’s almost appalling.

The email on the date site kept coming. One girl drove two hours to make a movie. She was a young country girl who was probably trying to piss off a boyfriend. She didn’t look eighteen, but these days it can be difficult to determine age. Teens dress like adults. Slutty is hip.

Melissa said, “Like, I’ll be honest...I enjoy porn. Like a lot! For some reason I can’t get enough of watching people fuck. Like it mesmerizes me…and I love it. Like, you know what I mean?” Every single word spoken in a fake California Valley accent. “Big cocks, small dicks, tight pussies, gaping vaginas- god honey you don’t like ever want one of those sometimes it takes two stiff ones to fill the hole-, creampies, anal, even a little gonzo once in awhile aint bad for like a change.”

Her voice grated on my nerves.

She continued, “Pro or amateur either way, like right. I mean hot girls and like cute guys are all I want to see.”

“How old are you?”

“I’ve even been thinking about like getting into the business myself lately…well I mean like professionally. Like moving out LA and giving it a whirl. Like I’ve been fucking since I was like thirteen. Like after I saw your ad, I just thought why not like start here first.”

“I assume that’s why you answered the ad. Now let me see an ID.” My skin crawled with annoyance.

“Like, right. And I have some, like let’s call ‘em home movies me and like an ex did last year. It was like so much fun. So I figured why not, like, try the real thing.”

“Are you old enough?” I had to ask, because she looks all of sixteen. Which in reality mean she could be anywhere between fourteen or twenty-seven. Going to prison for having sex with a minor was not on the list.

“Like everyone tells me I look like so young”. She handed me her driver’s license.

I hated her fake ass tan. I loathed her fake bleach blonde hair. “You just turned nineteen. You are young.”

“Like I know. Right?”

I wanted to defile this girl in inhumane ways. Annoyance passed minutes ago. “Have you ever done light bondage?” I tossed a ball gag her way and some leather straps.

“Like, kinky,” she said with a smile.

After about four months, I compiled almost a dozen videos. I opened the website, putting six online and with a new video each week. My area began to dry up. I made a few repeats calls. Then I got the idea for expansion.

When I went out of town on work I’d set up some sessions. I bought a large metal case for the gear. In all my trips, I’m rather surprised nothing every got stolen from airport security. The other guys on the crew always wondered why I carried the huge case. I told them it was my suitcase. I wanted them to mind their own business.

I’d be in Boston for four days and make a fuck video on of a night off. I’d be in Los Angeles for three days and make a fuck video on one of my nights off. Two days in Chicago and make a video. I’d be in Austin, Savannah, Orlando, Detroit, Salt Lake City, and Hartford for work and set up a session. Then off to Seattle, Nashville, Charleston, Houston, Phoenix, and New Orleans with more of the same. Didn’t matter if I was in Columbus, San Francisco, Philadelphia, Las Vegas, Manhattan, or any other city; I went for work and tried to make a fuck video if I had a free night.

There are many chicks willing to stay in four and five stars hotels, even if it is just to fuck on video. It’s hard to believe some women deemed their self worth to be valued at zero. Many of the woman seemed decent enough people. Each had a path which didn’t quite go smoothly enough and led them to this situation.

The story was familiar.

One of the most intriguing women I’ve ever met lived just outside Atlanta. Sabrina was her name. Another knockout blessed with long flowing red hair and the natural curves all men desire. All that beauty came with an inspiring personality. Her free spirited persona radiated the room instantly. I’ve never met someone like her before.

She came by the hotel around 10pm. As soon as she came in the room an insatiable sexual appetite arouse inside of me.

We talked. She explained her modest living in the woods not too far away. A simple way of life in a small house by a stream, shared with her sisters Melanie and Aretha.

She said, “You have great karma but there’s a great sadness behind your exterior.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. I can tell these things.”

“I have reasons,” I replied and proceeded to tell her about my boring existence and sad past. Often we can be more open with a complete stranger than with those we’ve known for years.

“Forget about the past for one night. Just live in the moment. We’re going to have fun tonight,” she exclaimed with an electric grin.

We did usual stuff while the little red light glowed. Her technique was all about the little things, accentuating every move. She touched places never touched before during intercourse. Every sense peaked. It lasted only fifteen minutes with the camera position not changing. I got caught up in the act.

Sabrina frowned. “Already? I’m just getting warmed up.”

I apologized. “Sorry. I couldn’t hold out anymore.” Looking directly into her eyes, “That was amazing.”

She leaned over and began blowing hot, moist breathe in my ear. I instantly became erect, ready for action. “That’s better,” she said smiling again with my penis in her hand.

The second session lasted about an hour. Most of the time was spent with my face in her vagina lapping away and rubbing at her clit. Even after my jaw stated hurting, I continued on. I felt like I owed it to her. Besides, I enjoy giving oral pleasures to females. Then it happened.

She squirmed rapidly and panted deeper. “Don’t stop!” she squeaked. An orgasm bubbled on the brim of fruition.

A couple of convulsions and BAM! Suddenly my face was blasted in warm, female liquid. I was completely stunned. This was my first case of first hand female ejaculation.

Curling up into the fetal position, she managed to say, “Stop. Let. Me. Enjoy.”

A few minutes went by and Sabrina calmed. The flesh tones came back to her face. She looked at me, covered in her fluids, and innocently giggled. “Are you alright?”

I was still speechless.

“I don’t usually tell people can do that. I like to leave it as a surprise.”

Snapping out of my amazement and complete intoxication with this woman I stated, “I’ve had worse surprises.”

Sabrina got out of the bed. She grabbed my hand and led me into the bathroom. We showered. We drew a bath. We talked. We fucked again, this time not on film. We were in the water so long our bodies pruned.

It was earlier in morning now. I had about three hours before I needed to head out to the airport. I invited Sabrina to stay. She accepted. We lay in bed naked, mostly talking about our stupid pasts. We fondled each other’s parts like a couple of teenagers experiencing another for the first time.

“You are one incredible woman.”

“Thanks. Don’t sell yourself short. There are a lot of great qualities you take for granted about yourself.”

“Thanks.”

A small stream of orange light streamed from the window onto the bare skin of Sabrina’s chest. “The sun is coming up. How long before you need to leave?”

I looked at the clock. “About forty minutes.”

“One more time” she asked, and then began to move her head down to the semi-erect penis in her hand.

“Why the hell not,” I agreed.

After the last event, we got dressed. I packed the gear. Sabrina got her money.

“Email me. I want to keep in touch with you,” she demanded and kissed me on the lips. “Take care Mason.”

“You’re one of the most incredible woman I have ever met. Whomever you end up with will be one lucky guy. Thank you for…well.”

She smiled at me for the last time. “That could be the best compliment I’ve ever received. But I don’t think I’ll ever be tied down to something as frivolous as one mate.” She kissed me again and stared as if debating on the words to speak next. “I believe there is a larger picture in store for you. One you don’t quite see yet.” As she walked out the door, again she told me to keep in touch.

Though I’m not sure what she meant, I couldn’t get enough of the little nymphet Sabrina. Her sexuality and her cosmic glow shall burn in my mind forever.

At this point I was transforming into a sexual pro. Cock control becoming a specialty. With a focus and spermicidal ointment to numb the sensation, I could hold a decent amount time before climaxing.

My way of thinking started to change as inner self confidence soared. I worked out few days a week at one of the places I despise the most, the gym. Running the extra half mile to trim a little more flab off my gut, taking one more painful rep to get the additional tone on my arms, more squats to shape my ass. I had to look good on camera. For the first time in my life I felt good about my appearance. I actually began to look cut. The extra fat started disappearing. They claim for every fifty pounds of weight a man loses, he recovers an extra inch of penis previously hidden under fat layers. My size was average so an extra inch always helped.

My interactions with others basically stayed the same. Still observing the masses instead of getting involved. Verbal communication was never a strong trait. Except with Ally, the only person I truly ever let myself become vulnerable. Not caring about anything except getting away from it all.

After fourteen months I was even surprised at how much money was coming in. The dollars added up quick. I had the money from the site go directly into a bank account. I looked at the numbers each month and saw the increase. Amazing, I started this little escapade to earn a few bucks. I went from about $15,000 in the hole to nearly three hundred thousand dollars. The world loves watching sex.

I kept my real job since the traveling to other cities was a big part of running the site. All I wanted to get where I could live comfortably for the rest of my life barring any radical changes in lifestyle. I had a plan for early retirement and the goal neared.

The one thing I did during filming and editing, keeping my face out of the frame. Using mostly over the shoulder camera shots. I wanted to remain anonymous. I didn’t want some idiot coming up to me in the streets and yelling “You’re the man!” or some other lame ass comment. I didn’t require the recognition and I despise the majority of people on the planet. I wanted to be able to break away cleanly when I choose to. And if my bosses wouldn’t approve and there goes the free travel. My dirty little secret it remained.

I hadn’t wanted or planned on doing the website for long. Strike quick and get out from under the whole situation. It consumed my daily life. The sex kept my mind occupied from the real issues in my life. I was lonely but not for another person…for my wife. I missed her and knew she wouldn’t approve of my behavior.

She was gone, forever.

Something had to change. I needed to change.

Friends asked if I’d date again. They offered to set me up. Truth was I never gave it much thought. Ally was the only real girlfriend I had known. We had been best friends since childhood and our relationship was off and on for years until we came to our senses. If my callus heart could ever feel love towards another woman again remained to be seen. When I witness friends and family with their spouses and children, I can’t help but wonder if my turn expired.

I’ve stuck my dick in all types of women. White girls, black girls, Asian girls, Hispanic girls, Indian girls, European girls, skinny girls, portly girls, beautiful girls, not so attractive girls, bitchy girls, laid back girls, red haired girls, blonde girls, brunette girls; you name an ethnicity or a personality type or body type and in the years my little project went on, I probably fucked it.

No matter how many partners, sex is not love.

Sex is a physical act. Love is an emotion, perhaps even a commitment. You can have one without the other. Lots of people fuck with no emotion attachment. Several people are in committed relationships, but cant or don’t have sex. Loving another is not the same as being in love.

Most of these women didn’t meant nothing to me, except in the actual moment. They were merely part of a larger plan. I had no emotional ties. It was my part time job. I would listen to them and talk only to make them feel at ease. Listening made me feel at ease. Then I manipulated them in doing sexual acts for cash.

As time went on, I got more malicious with my intent. I became even more dull my senses. I hated this budding addiction.

The one thing I’ve discovered about women over the years is simple. They are all crazy, every last damn one of them. I think the key to being happy in a steady relationship is finding one woman that you can tolerate their craziness. No matter how insane she seems to others, as long as you are able to handle her degree of bizarre. That’s how you get through the good times and the bad. Of course females probably think guys are all out of their minds too. They’re correct.

I had that once. Now the crazy is missing in my life.

There was this one girl in my area I almost fell in love with.

Her eyes were an incredible green color. Those eyes mesmerized me at every glance. Along with her perfectly apple shaped ass and a perky, little rack she made my jaw drop every time she came over. This little vixen appeared to be multiethnic stew of goodness. I’m guessing she was in her mid twenties and she called herself Jade. The most beautiful lady I had ever witnessed.

But it wasn’t only her beauty I enjoyed. The first time she came over for a session, we talked for almost two hours before getting started. I told her about me. Rarely in my life have I been able to talk this easily and openly to a female. Her attitude reminded me of Ally.

Jade told me her basics. She had a six year old son from a bad marriage. It’s another case of people getting married too young and for all the wrong reasons. She was willing to try new experiences in her life, not wanting to miss out. She had a job as a stripper for about year but never enjoyed it. She went to night school to get her degree in Marketing. It seemed she was letting me into her world.

“You have the most incredible smile,” was the best compliment I could come up with.

She flashed it. “Thanks. I usually get comments on my eyes, not my smile.”

“Your eyes are nothing short of spectacular either.”

“That’s sweet,” she said appeared to blush a bit.

And the conversation continued on. I felt like we connected. I didn’t even want to fuck her, not for website anyways. But she needed to pay the bills so we moved into the bedroom. The red light on camera glowed.

In the end, she swallowed my seed. While showering, I noticed two puncture marks on my inner thigh. I couldn’t recall how they got there. So I replayed the tape. After I ejaculated I stood in a trance as she bit into my thigh. When she came up, I swore her mouth had a bloody fang. But the tape was fuzzy, just like my memory.

Often I replay the night in my head, trying to remember, trying to piece it together. I didn’t care; she had a hold on me. I had to see her again. We set up another shoot in a few weeks.

This time she came over and we talked for about an hour. More insight into each other lives over a couple of drinks. I had the equipment set up in living room this time for a different look.

We had sex again…a marathon session. Our images recorded on tape. After, we stayed on the couch for what seemed to be an eternity. Her naked body was laying on mine. Two people breathing as one.

“This could be the most perfect moment in history of time,” I said with deadpan seriousness.

Her response was simple. “Shhhh. Don’t say another word.” A few silent minutes passed as I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke a short time later to a lapping sound. A stinging sensation burned my inner thigh. Jade lifted her head. With ruby red stained lips she softly spoke the word, “sleep”. My eyes became heavy.

When I awoke, Jade had left. My head pounded from the dream. I scratched my leg and discovered crusted blood. Weird.

Jade wanted another shoot. I agreed, for no other reason than to see her again. I didn’t care about fucking her, only being near her as much as possible. You can never look inside another person’s mind to see what they’re thinking. I was falling in love with this woman.

She came over for the second shoot. By now, her first video was on the site. It quickly became the most downloaded segment. She knew it was huge. There was a change in her demeanor.

“I want a more money,” she demanded no sooner than I closed the door. “I’ve seen the hits on my video and want double the amount from before or I’m not doing a thing. Not so much as a nipple will come out.

I didn’t care about the damn money. The fact was she was on my mind constantly. I wanted her for myself, knowing it was impossible. “The money’s not an issue. You’re worth every penny.”

“Good, then let’s get down to it.” The conversation ended.

We banged, stroked, sucked, and fucked our melting hearts out, or at least mine. After the event, we were sitting on the couch talking. This was becoming the norm. I wanted to ask her about the bite marks. I swore the question was asked but my memory recalls a much different conversation.

I summoned all the courage in my body. “Jade.”

“Yes” she replied.

“Let’s go out to dinner this week.”

“Dinner…I don’t know. It’s always tough for me to get away.”

I could hear the hesitation, but my dumb mouth opened again as the hint flew right by me. “Well if you get a chance and you’re interested, give me a call.” I never could read women correctly. My heart always clouded my judgment.

“Listen. You’re a decent guy and all, but…well…” fumbling for the right words, the right excuse. She finished. “Let’s just keep this professional.”

It’s starting to click inside my thick skull now. I’ve never taken rejection well. “There’s no problem being professional.”

“Well what is it then? You ‘like’ me all of a sudden.”

The condescending nature of her voice started to piss me off. “Honestly, any person can see you’re beautiful, but it’s more than that. I enjoy being around you. With the conversations we’ve had, I thought enjoyed my company as well. I could care less about the fucking entailed for the internet, as enjoyable as it has been. I just thought maybe we could get to know each other better. So yes, I do like you.”

The corner of her mouth curled up and the wickedly hot smile she had, turned bitchy and sour in an instant. “You want honesty Mason. Fine with me. You seem to be a decent guy and I do enjoy the talks.” Her eyes glance over me. “And you’re not repulsive, but if you weren’t a means to an end for me I wouldn’t even notice you salivating at me. You’re an average looking guy pushing an average body. This is all just a stepping stone in my porn career. You’re getting me noticed, and then I’m taking charge of myself. I’m going to be the new Jenna Jameson, baby.”

Inside I’m boiling. She walked over to me and pecked me on the cheek. “No hard feelings, sugar. You wanted honesty.”

“That I did.”

“I can give you credit. You’re a helluva lot better than my worthless boyfriend.” She waited and scanned the puzzled look on my face not knowing or caring about my thoughts. “How about next month?”

I smirked, “Sure Jade. I’ll email you.” For the first time in my life I had the urge to choke a bitch out.

As she walked out the door, I noticed the puncture marks on my left forearm. The trance momentarily broke. I wondered if what occurred was a dream. In my memory it all seems real yet planted, skewed. Something strange was happening. The anger left; replaced by confusion from the marks, my conflicting feelings, and knowledge of being used. I yearned to see her one last time. The revenge seed planted next to my lust. Sometimes being used makes you feel wanted.

Three weeks later she showed up at my door in a bitch mood, demanding to know why her next video clip wasn’t on the site yet. She accused me of holding a grudge. This was true, but not the reason. I explained to her that she couldn’t overload the site. It’s bad business for me. Besides she was going up on this week’s clip.

In a pissy tone she muttered, “I knew it. This is precisely why I just opened my own site. So fuckers like you can’t hold me back. My boyfriend is taking pictures and hell I almost got him talked into screwing me on film. If not, I can find other guys and girls. That’s never been a problem.”

The woman was either a damn fine actress that had me fooled from the beginning or the biggest egotistical psycho cunt I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting or something else entirely. I’m still not sure which.

“What’s the domain; I can link a banner on the site for you.”

“I don’t need you’re help. I’ve made you enough cash. I’m outta here.”

“Wait a minute! I’m not holding you back. You’re the biggest hit I have. I’m savoring the clips. That way it’ll be more of a demand for you. I cant over saturated the site.. If you don’t want my help by doing a simple little thing like linking website, then fine. I don’t really care.” The best sales pitch I could think up on the fly resulted into basic begging. I had to be with her one more time. To taste her flesh on my tongue, to smell her scent, and I still had questions about the puncture marks. “Don’t leave. Please. Just stay for one more time. Then you can walk out my door and go make it big. An incredible looking woman like you, there’s no doubt about it. I’ll even double the last amount, and then whatever happens, happens. If you want another shoot some day, I’m not hard to find. If not, best of luck. What do say Jade?”

As I stared into the hungry eyes the situation changed. The trance never took a hold of me this time. Every feeling I possessed for this blood sucking whore ceased to exist. I wanted to hurt her instead of love her. It aroused me.

She came over to me. “Alright Mason, I’ll give you one more.” She grabbed the throbbing cock beneath my jeans. “But I also want something else.”

“Anything”

“Careful what you promise. Tonight, I drain you.”

I’m not proud of my actions. My normal state of mind checked out. I became determined to hurt this woman physically. Not through typical violent means like punching her, but from sex. Very rough sex.

I pounded her hard and increased the thrusting motion with every ounce of force I had, squeezing each inch up inside her. I fucked her ass using very little lube just to add the extra amount of pain. I tossed her over this way, then back around. The joy over came me when the grimace appeared on her face. Then she uttered the words “You cant hurt me, fucker!” I got scared.

I did the most demeaning things I could think over to her. For the most part she played along, but not at all enjoying it. I blew the biggest load imaginable onto her face. I looked down at her face. The jizz spread across her eyelashes and dripped off her chin. I found her disgusting. With sweat rolling from my body, I turned off all three cameras.

“You’re money is on the counter Jade. Have a nice career.” Then I walked into the bathroom and washed her stink off me. I closed the bathroom door behind me.

She yelled something derogatory at me that I muffled out. Suddenly the door broke from its hinges. She stomped it down to the floor. I stood stunned.

With one lick a gigantic tongue lapped up the semen resting on her face. She laughed. “You owe me, Mason.” She grabbed my throat with her talon like fingers and pinned me against the shower wall. Two fangs elongated from her mouth. “Consider yourself lucky. It’s been awhile since any human has stood up to me. I rather enjoyed it.” The fangs broke the skin. She drank the warm blood pouring from the wound. When she had her fill, I collapsed. “It’s the only reason I’ll let you survive.”

When I awoke, blood crusted the wound on the back of my head where it hit the basin. The puncture wounds on my neck were scabbed over. I still wasn’t clear what occurred or if my mind was playing tricks. I chose to forget the whole ordeal.

That night was the last I ever heard from Jade.

My life took a new direction after “the Jade Incident”. I had made a lot of money from the Mr. Average website and had offers from larger porn entrepreneurs to sell. I jumped at the chance to get out and made seven figures for the domain and footage. Serious Skin shut down. I quit my real job. I sold my house and most of my possession. I moved into a cheap one bedroom apartment. Dream accomplished. I could now live comfortable for the rest of my life if I played it smart.

I returned to the days of no physical contact. I failed to realize that running the site had turned me into a sex addict. Sex was frequently on my mind. Women in general, even more so. This was different. I hungered for sex. I pained for another sweaty body pressed against mine and the sensation of ejaculation. If I couldn’t find a chick to bang, I’d beat off; two, three, four times a day and sometimes more. Grease up and go. Get a vision in my mind’s eye and at the point of popping, stop. I’d cum without ejaculation semen. Only the sensation came, which was what craved, a few seconds of wonderful convulsions. An orgasm without the mess.

One day I awoke with three strange women in my bed. I tried to remember how they got here. None was attractive, body or face. In fact they were down right disgusting. I remembered being down at a local pub drinking heavily.

The smell in the room of dank body order made my stomach turn. The putrid taste in my dry mouth wasn’t from the alcohol. I spit a pubic hair out. I had long scratches on my chest. Looking down at my swollen prick. I went to urinate. Fuck, it burned. I had been given the gift of a venereal disease.

I wanted to cry. Ally would’ve hated me. I hated me.

It may have not been rock bottom, but the moment of truth was staring me directly in the face. I didn’t go to meetings or have a support group. Mind over matter and will power was my tool. I don’t need some cult telling me to praise a higher power and follow certain steps in order to get well. The amount of women I fucked will never make up for the one I truly loved. The one I never told goodbye.

I’m not a bad guy. I just wanted to live life on my terms. Do the things I want to do in it. Be free. Is it really so wrong that I’m living the dream of my generation…wealth without working.

So I had to sell myself and some strangers on the web. Does it really matter? My morality isn’t hurt. I’m not ashamed. Not as long as someone doesn’t find out about it. Hell, everyone is putting their bodies out for show on the internet.

Flesh sells. It will only cost you $19.99 a month take a look.

For more go to www.seankimmel.com

Crushed

2010-04-16T21:04:00.001-04:00

We change our faces
In different places
Try to put on a show
If we hide our hearts
From the start
And truth will never know

Is this a just crush or something more?
Are you the one I've been waiting for?

The words spoken
Time remains unbroken
As the seconds ticks away
The air is cleared
Still you're not near
There's nothing else to say

Is this a crush or something more?
Are you the one I've been waiting for?

Is this a crush or something more?
Are you the one I've been waiting for?

The days on the horizon
Are spent devising
The shield protects me from the pain
Weighed down by burden
Over and over again
The realization it was all in vain

Is this a crush or something more?
Are you the one I've been waiting for?

Is this a crush or something more?
Are you the one I've been waiting for?

Is this a crush or something more?
Are you the one I've been waiting for?

This was only a crush and nothing more.
You weren't the one I've waited for.

Sean Kimmel

For more go to www.seankimmel.com

One Way

2010-04-08T15:46:00.047-04:00

Tired of traveling along this one way street,

Unable to find the exit to the expressway.

The nativity of believing you wanted me to be your addiction.

A savior of hope in an otherwise darkened world.

Misread the passages and formed the wrong conclusions.

Happiness in your daily routine is my desire,

Just not at the expense of mine.

Double speak and vagueness causes emotional turmoil.

Melancholy reactions from a beating heart.
Love is impossible when it's a one sided affair.

Suggestions to ignore to the cause,
Remains improbable by chasing the phantom.
Yearning for what never flickered between.
Change in decisions could make the best of both worlds.
Wont push hard for fear of being too strong.

The lost and lonely walk in the same circles,

Yet aren't aware of each others existence.

Nothing appears as it seems to be.

Bury the sorrow deep so human eyes cant focus on the true nature.

Forsaken by the passion which keeps the fire burning.

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

The Hitchhiker Named Misery

2010-03-21T21:00:00.012-04:00

Blinded by the expectations of hope

for a better life.

The propaganda rapidly spreads
to distort the truth.

Old memories of better days lie as they fade

away into oblivion.

Void of any kind of meaningful speech

with to nothing to say

My callus heart pumps rapidly through

my chest before breaking.

Not living life with any purpose

but merely a passenger.

Watching the days of mediocrity

blend endlessly together.

Do I deserve misery as my only companion?

Sean Kimmel

For more go to www.seankimmel.com

False Feelings of a True Nature

2010-03-09T22:58:00.049-05:00

Wonder how I'm doing
Are you keeping score
Am I in the running
Now or anymore
Let the words of music
Cause every time I try
Just cant speak
Acting like a child
And not a man
A small indication
Give me a helping hand

You cant control how you feel
Even if it's not real
You cant control who you love
Even if they want none
You cant keep things all inside
Even when the emotion dies

Just some true guidance
That's all I need
Is the masquerade
For you or me
Waiting on answer
Of questions not asked
Once it's in the open
Cant take it back
I've shut it down inside
For far too long
Does the feeling exist
Or wasted and gone

You cant control how you feel
Even if it's not real
You cant control who you love
Even if they want none
You cant keep things all inside
Even when the emotion dies

If I could only help you not be sad
I would give away all I have
If I could take away all your pain
I would transfer it and contain
If I could again make you love
I might be the one you think of

You cant control how you feel
Even if it's not real
You cant control who you love
Even if they want none
You cant keep things all inside
Even when the emotion dies

If I could only help you not be sad
I would give away all I have
If I could take away all your pain
I would transfer it and contain
If I could again make you love
I might be the one you think of

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to www.seankimmel.com

Inside

2010-03-08T14:54:00.000-05:00

Some people claim that alcohol turned them into a monster. For Dan, the statement was an absolute hard fact. When different types of alcohol flowed through his veins, a completely distinctive personality appeared. During the drinking years, friends called him Jekyll & Hyde.

Whiskey turned him into mean, fighting behemoth. His chest stuck out slightly too far. A cocky attitude permeated from his soul. He searched for the weak to beat down and hoped some person would say or do the wrong thing to set him off. The feeling on flesh being pounded under his knuckles gave him a rush. He took on the essence of the piece of shit called his father. Dan hated the feeling.

Gin made him a horny bastard. No woman was safe from his advances. If a vagina was anywhere near his vicinity its owner would be hit on. Guaranteed. He would fuck any woman that moved. He badgered girls until one caved in or thought he was attractive enough to sleep with or her inhibitions were dropped or maybe she just wanted to fuck. The aftermath scared Dan the most. Waking up in strange places and barely remembering the acts performed or with whom. The mad dash escape plan in early morning light became common. One day he got courage enough to take an AIDS test. Fear paralyzed him for checking the results. Luckily it came back negative, just like the last few times. Russian roulette was the game being played and it needed to quit.

Vodka turned him into an emotional wreck. His mind worked overtime. The night normally ended in tears as he thought about the missed opportunities of the past and the void in the present. The future seemed non-existent, considering his lifestyle. Dan vowed to change his ways each time. To clean himself up and take control. The statements ended up being more lies made up in the moment of a blurred consciousness.

Tequila made his mind scramble. He lost all control as the Superman within come forth. There was no challenge he wouldn't accept. All bets were off. These nights, he usually blacked out and woke up with an injured body. Any one of his worst qualities had the potential to come forth during the binge. These nights were few and far between but Dan denied each one. He knew the consequences that came with the horrors and chose to bury the truth.

Beer simply made him sleepy. After about a dozen his eyelids drooped into peaceful bliss. Nice and quiet. Dan didn’t mind these nights.

Sobriety started five years ago. No small feat for an alcoholic. These days he served drinks in his hometown bar. A place he owned and operated. A strange career choice for a person in his condition, but being around the scene kept the monster at bay. He knew the damn thing waited to be released once again. On the days when the booze craving hit him hard, so intense that the mental anguish became unbearable; Dan left the bar and went home, locking himself inside. The job tested him every single day. He had yet to slip.

It helped that most of the regulars in the joint were suffering too. Many monsters were kept hidden from plain sight, except on the rarest occasions.

Sheila had a different monster living inside her. It craved sex. The constant need to be stimulated consumed her.

She fought with the beast and often lost. There was the time when she masturbated in the back of the city bus because not cumming at that exact moment would feel like death. The particular situation occurred often. The necessity of receiving instant ecstasy controlled her. Then there was the night back in college when she let ten frat guys pull a chain on her. She even did two guys at a time. Twice. Once it was end to end. She sucked on a hard cock while another slammed inside her. The other was high road, low road. She engulfed one penis in her vagina while the other slipped inside her anus. They pumped simultaneously and it drove her wild. The scene was straight from a gang bang porno. Sweat and semen and vaginal juices puddle on the carpet of the bedroom. Not one of Gina’s finer moments. Tears streamed down her face afterwards as the guys called her a whore and threw wadded up money at her. She burned it. She was no a whore.

There were many other sexual escapades which blackened her soul with shame. Acts she shared with no one else.

The beast had been put slightly at ease since she met Dan. Their monsters complemented each other. She helped keep him sober and he tried to keep her sexual satisfied. For the last two years, the arrangement worked most days. They still faced challenges. The urge forced her to visit the ladies room on more than one occasion.

Society may not accept them, but they accepted each other and their faults. It was enough to for today.

The cue ball rolled across the green felt and gently tapped the eight ball, which dropped in the pocket with ease. Steve won again and collected his winnings. The malicious monster that possessed him was called gambling.

He owed money to people all over town. He doubled up to catch up. Often he lost. He took many beatings for late payments. His monster hid during those times.

He made cash by hustling pool. The phrase “Betcha a hundo” crossed his lips as often as the word “hello”. The winnings spent on high stakes poker. Anything left, went to the sports bookies.

The realization that his life would come to a violent and abrupt end never crossed his mind. He always believed the next big score waited in the wings and then all debts could be cleared. He would walk away clean and change his life. This delusion was how he survived with the monster.

The last piece of ribeye entered his mouth. He scarcely chewed the piece of meat and swallowed. The man stacked the plates which once contained an extra large steak, double order of fries, several rolls, sixteen chicken wings, and salad loaded with blue cheese dressing. He shook the empty glass, noting the need for yet another Pepsi refill.

Erik's monster was an obvious one. Weighting in at over four hundred pounds, the man barely fit on the stool. The majority of his rotund ass checks hanging over the sides.

Hunger consumed him.

The man couldn't remember when the monster first showed up. Gradually over time, he kept getting hungrier with each passing day. His clothes grew tight. He believed inactivity was the culprit. The monster hid its true intention until one day Erik looked in the mirror and didn't recognize himself. By then change was too late. His chin and neck rolled together. His breasts were larger than some women’s. His dick was hid under a fatty lump and large belly. He was wider than two normal men.

He never had a significant other in his life. And with his appearance, knew he’d never get one. No woman could see past the horrible exterior to admire his inner qualities. He loathed the monster. But still made excuses for it. The hunger remained his only true friend.

Maureen's squirmed in her chair nervously. She searched around for a person to provide a fix. Her monster needed fed. Now. It yearned for the needle to pierce her skin and shoot the sweet drug called heroin into the veins.

She gave up on life and let her beast take control. She became the monster’s slave. The woman robbed, fucked, and performed horrible deeds in order to score. She would kill a muthafucker if needed just to have the moment of ecstasy rush over her body.

Her white, crusty lips cracked as she leaned to the guy next to her and whispered in his ear. He said no thanks and walked away.

She contemplated her next move. She needed to forget her miserable existence.

Carl sat in the corner booth tapping on his computer keys and sipping a Miller High Life. No one knew about his monster. He kept it well hidden from most. Other people seemed to sense something about him was a strange, but couldn't prove it existed. His monster salivated for children. Particularly young, teenage girls.

They were easier for him to talk to than adult woman. These girls were old enough to know better than to speak with a man of his age but usually they wanted to rebel against their parents and did it anyways. Add their changing body to the confusion and these girls made for easy prey.

He would find a girl in a chat room. He'd sympathize with them. He gained their trust. Sometimes he pretended to be one of them, but that made the game too easy. Eventually they would agree to meet. Then Carl's monster would swipe the girl.

The girls were kept chained up in his country house basement. He talked to the girls. Tell them not be scared. He playfully touched the girls, but never in a sexual way. This always led to the monster losing control.

Many bodies were buried in his garden.

The red lipstick painted her plump lips. She examined herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked good tonight. Check that, she was smoking hot tonight.

Then her monster knocked her down to size.

You can still look better Michelle. There's crow's feet sprouting from the corner of your eyes. You're boobs could go up another size. The old ones are starting to sag. And let's not forget the extra fat around stomach. Quite honestly, you look like shit for a twenty-seven year old woman. You're prime is long gone. Not even surgery can help.

Michelle wanted to cry but fought back the pain. She continued to gaze at the ugly girl staring back at her in the mirror, wanting to punch her. No man would want her. Why would they? She was pathetic.

She already owed a lot of money from several plastic surgeries. But she had to find a way to pay for more procedures.

She strutted across the bar to rejoin her friends. All the heads turned to catch a glimpse. The monster convinced her that they watched because she was sickly.

The monster lied. It always lied.

The bar was always full of monsters. Some sat out in the open while others remained out of sight. Each person dealing with it in their own way.

THE END

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

Dreaming for Tomorrow

2010-02-27T23:19:00.009-05:00

There's no denying that we have a connection
Could this friendship turn into a different affection
I'd take the leap if I had a clear direction

A day without you is a day
I dont want to go without

It's something so bad
that I want
but never had

Yearning for the day
you're me
thoughts drive me insane

It's something so bad
that I want
but never had

Your voice resonates across the room in my ears
Insecurities prevent sharing all my fears
All day long I want to hold you close, keep you near

A day without you is a day
I dont want to go without

It's something so bad
that I want
but never had

Yearning for the day
you're me
thoughts drive me insane

It's something so bad
that I want
but never had

A day without you is a day
I dont want to go without

It's something so bad
that I want
but never had

A day without you is a day
I dont want to go without

Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

The No-Sell

2010-02-09T10:15:00.009-05:00

"Here you go Kid. Good match tonight. You had them eating out of your palm," said the old man and handed the youngster his check.

The Kid looked at it. "Thanks boss," he replied back in a disheartened tone. "See you next week."

The next man walked up. The old man handed him a check. "Dylan, Dylan, Dylan. You got to sell more. Remember, you're the good guy out there. Faces take beatings so the audience can empathize with them. Then the crowd's behind you when the fiery comeback happens. Sell the beating."

Dylan nodded in agreement. "Yes Mr. Erickson. Thank you."

A ripped, muscular man moved forward and waited. "Another fine job out there Crusher."

He grabbed the check from Mr. Erickson's hand and glanced at the amount written. "What the hell is this?" Crusher felt he'd been screwed again.

The wrinkled face gentlemen leaned back in his chair. His glasses hung on the edge of nose revealing steel blue eyes. "It's your payout."

The dance began as their eyes locked onto each other.

"It's light. We talked about a bump in salary." Crusher tried to keep control. The two men discussed the issue before. He thought a promise took place between them.

The old man’s voice remained calm and in control. "No. You talked about a bump in salary. I told you we'd see how the next house turns out. In case you didn't notice, there wasn't anymore seats filled than last week."

Anger rose in Crusher. He had carried the promotion for months now as the top wrestler. The fans came to see him. The seats filled up because of his name. "I'm the main event around here. I've been short changed by you too much in the last three years. Pay me more, tonight and here on out, or I walk. Got it!"

The threat loomed in the air between the two proud men.

Mr. Erickson's gaze never left his opponent's eye. Even at his age, the stare was intense as burning coals. "You may be one of the top guys in this promotion and you may be in one the top feuds we have going on right now, but don’t let it go to your head Crusher. I can make another star out of half the undercard guys. And none of them would give me as much shit as you do."

The door revolved often in the promotion. Erickson always picked a person with potential to take under his wing. Once he felt the person understood exactly all the nuisances of being the top guy, the push came. Then after awhile on top in the main event, the wrestler's ego would normally got the best of them and a falling out occurred. Then the process started all over again.

"I've been in the wrestling business for over fifty years,” he said. “And I've forgotten more about being in the ring than you will ever know. So do not make feeble threats toward me, Terrance."

No one ever used Crusher's real name. He loathed hearing it aloud.

"If you're salary is inadequate, then don't come back here next week."

"Fuck this. I can earn three times as much working for Calzone," Crusher said. His final card was thrown out on the table.

Mr. Erickson snickered. He now realized what the outcome would be. "And you'll drive four hours to do it too. And Calzone runs half as many shows as me. So go ahead a work there. In fact, call Wilson or Templeton or any other small, time flash in the pan promoter. It’s your career."

Of course, Crusher knew all this as the truth. Friends in the business told him Calzone possessed zero business sense and to never work for the guy. The other promotions in the area weren’t established enough and couldn’t afford to use a him on a regular basis. But pride got in his way and left him no alternative. "Fuck this. I'm gone." As he headed for the door, one last phrase was shouted. "Shove it you old prick!" The door slammed shut as the chiseled Adonis left the building.

Almost too quickly for man nearing eighty, Mr. Erickson jumped to his feet. A loud THUD echoed across the locker room as his cane smacked the table. "The rest of you listen up!" When he raised his voice, it always garnered attention. The remaining workers stopped and attentively listened. "If you have a problem with your individual payouts, then follow Crusher out the door. Each one you are adequately compensated for performances. I'm not getting rich from this promotion or from renting out this old building of mine. And I'll be damned if...oh hell." The explanation ceased. "Charlie, pay the rest of them. I'll be in my office." Erickson limped away, muttering underneath his breath.

The temporarily stunned locker room started its return to normalcy. Most of the vets had witnessed an outburst in some form or another before. Charlie, as usual, did exactly as asked and finished paying the workers.

Charlie entered the door to Mr. Erickson's office. He saw the old man in his usual place after a show; napping on the worn out couch located by the adjacent door which lead to the ticket office. An empty glass balanced on his lap. The drops of scotch pooled at the bottom. Charlie gently shook his mentor. "Gene. Wake up."

The old man awakened from his slumber. While yawning he asked, "Is it all cleared out?" The empty glass touched his lips immediately after the question.

"Yeah, boss."

"You know I was dreaming about the big match I had with Tino Brunto."

The tale had been told many times. It almost echoed with in the walls. "I enjoy the story," he said with the usual caring Charlie Sampson smile.

"But did I ever tell you that the Board was originally going to give me the World Title. Back in the day when a the World Title meant something."

The statement surprised Charlie. "Really? You've never mentioned that before." The match was still talked about amongst the all generations of wrestlers.

Erickson knew the Board screwed him over but he always still protected them. Very few people knew what went down that evening.

"We were doing a sixty minute broadway and it was close to end. I called for the finish and Tino simply said 'plans changed'. He tossed me on the canvas and locked in that damn elbow submission hold. He said 'tap or it breaks'. What choice did I have? Tino would've snapped it. He was a legit stretcher and all around mean son of a bitch. And he always did whatever the Board told him to. That's why he was champ so long."

Charlie stood in amazement with the new version of the tale. "Damn. You're one shot pulled out from under you."

"I got a little jaded with the business after the incident." The decision to open a promotion of his own steamed from the outcome of that evening. Erickson wasn't going to play by the Board's rules anymore. Also like many of the performers from his era, Erickson disliked how the wrestling business had changed over the years. The focus went away from wrestling skills and more towards flashy entertainment. But unlike many of the old promoters, he tweaked his company's style enough to keep the fans coming back. Erickson's promotion wasn't huge, but it had a name value, a reputation, and a regional TV deal. He never sold out to the big company, even after talent raids and some very lean years.

Erickson continued, "Hell, I'm far from perfect as a businessman. And I'll admit it, but this place has survived longer than just about all of the others around. A lot of good men and women have come through those doors".

Charlie knew his wrestling history. Only a handful of promotions could date themselves back as far as Elite Wrestling. Keeping a wrestling company out of the red always remained a very tough task.

Erickson continued. "In the past, a worker's salary might have gotten shortchanged a bit. Other times we all felt the crunch. But in the end, the risk and responsibility and decision remained with me. Nobody else. I will not apologize for the way business is done around here."

The man resided in a rare place tonight. Charlie asked, "Why are you telling me this Gene?"

"I don't know. Maybe because this business passed an old timer like me up years ago. It's time to move on. If Brenda was still alive it would've happened years ago."

Diagnosed with lung cancer at sixty-one, Brenda fought hard for 3 years. She battled like a warrior, but still lost the war. Her death crushed Erickson. The promotion became his only reason for going on each day. Since the couple had never been able to conceive a child of their own, the workers who surrounded him each day became the only family he had left.

"I'm leaving it all to you Charlie."

The surprise on Charlie's face said enough. "I don’t know what to say," still riddled by the offer.

It suddenly occurred to Erickson that Charlie might not be interested in assuming the day to day running of the promotion. He learned to be good booker, always possessed interesting ideas, and knew how to handle talent, but the financial part he needed to learn in for the Erickson legacy to remain afloat. "That is, if you want to own the promotion and the building."

The brief moment of hesitation never popped up. "I'd be honored." Charlie became the number two man behind the scenes for a reason. He knew how to handle situations and people trusted him.

Very pleased with the acceptance, Gene smiled. "You've always been like the son to us." Hell, I remember the day you walked in the gym and asked to be a wrestler. No more than sixteen years old."

"And you declined."

"But you became a persistent little son of gun because of it. After eight months of begging and pleading, I took you under my wing. You trained your ass off but the ring skills never translated. At least you found a niche and blossomed. Your duties behind the scenes are every bit as important as what takes place in front of the crowd."

The compliment meant everything to Charlie. His own father left his family at a young age. The Erickson's became his surrogate parents. The father figure who took a scrawny kid and taught him how to defend himself. The old man helped to guide him through difficult years. He was forever indebted to the man who trained him and turned his means of escape into a career.

"I know that you'll do fine with the promotion and put in the effort it takes to keep the doors open. With any luck, you can carry it on for as long I as have." Gene felt happy for the first time in many, many months.

"You know I will." Lots of hard work laid out on the road ahead. He owed Gene to give it his best shot. Failure was not an option.

Erickson stood up to hear the standard pops and creaks his old body made constantly. "I tell you what. Go on home. I'll lock up."

"Are you sure?" Erickson hadn't locked up the building in years.

"Yes. I'll stop by tomorrow and take you, Lilith, and the kids out for lunch. We can go over my will and talk about me sliding out of here in a couple of months." Erickson's mind was at peace.

"That's sounds fine by me," Charlie said. The two men embrace in a long hug. "Goodnight. And Gene, thanks. For everything."

Then the final words passed between them. "Goodbye Charlie."

The old man stood alone in his office. The photos hung on the wall revealing memories of another time. Many faces were no longer around. Many places which were torn down.

A bottle of Dewar's sat on top of his desk. He poured two fingers worth and felt the light burn as the liquid slide down his throat. He poured, gulped the drink down, and repeated the action twice more.

The silence was broken by the sound of water hitting the floor in the showers. Erickson refused to believe a worker would leave it running. They all knew better. With his drink in one hand and his cane in the other, he stumbled towards the shower stalls.

Inside a young woman, no older than twenty-five, let the water run down her body. Erickson blushed at her bare backside. He said, "Sorry, I thought everyone already left. Let me know when you're finished." The lady turned around just in time for him to catch a glimpse of her face. She was beautiful. She looked just like… "Brenda?"

The youthful girl simply said, "Yes, Gene. It's me." She turned off the water and wrapped a towel around her damp figure.

Erickson felt lightheaded. He nearly fainted. "It can’t be...you died over eleven years ago." This moment had to be a dream. He got drunk, passed out in his couch. Yet it all felt real. "You look so young. Like the day we met." He fought back the tears of pain.

Brenda walked over to him.” This was exactly how I looked on the day we meet. Remember?"

Erickson remembered the day like it just happened. He was in St. Louis wrestling. They had a couple of girls on the card, Brenda and Francine. After the match, most of the guys were harassing them. Telling the girls they had to shower with the guys. The teasing started to turn malicious in nature when Gene and his buddy Moose stepped in.

"Moose and I stood in front of the showers."

She cut him off. "And turned your backs so no one could see us. You said if anyone has a problem with the girls showering in peace, they'd have to deal with the two of you. Two perfect gentlemen. I fell for you at that exact moment."

A tear streamed down his puffy, red eyes. "You're not real, honey. I'm drunk." The pain of losing her once nearly destroyed him. The man couldn't take it another time.

The two gazed at each other like first time lovers. All the passion and pain and love from being married for forty years burned between them. "I'm as real as you want me to be, darling." She reached out to touch him, but stopped.

"I miss you so much Brenda." This woman was his world for so long. Gene went into a full breakdown mode. The emotions poured from his soul. "Since you died, this damn place is all I have. It's all that keeps me going." He sank any devotion left into the wrestling. The only other choice was dying, which crossed his mind more than he cared to admit. "And I'm finally starting to hate the business."

"You always worried about others too much. The talent can wear you down with demands. But you are not a bad man, Gene."

She constantly told him that when she was alive. Brenda always believed in him far more than he did himself. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm getting out. For good this time." The tears stood firm on his weathered face.

"Be careful my love," she said. "Don't let the past determine your future."

His tone rose slightly, "What does that mean? I don’t want any more of a future without you."

The message was sent. Her duty fulfilled. "I can’t say anymore. I have to leave."

Erickson pleaded, "NO! Stay with me a little longer." The look on her face revealed all Gene needed to know.

"Just remember, dwelling on the past will only haunt you to death." Brenda moved in for a kiss, one like they used to have long ago. Just before their lips touch, she vanished. The words I love you rang in his ears.

His eyes opened to a deserted locker room. With an empty glass in one hand and a cane in the other, he inspected the shower. It was dry. "I'm losing my damn mind," he mumbled. Part of him didn't believe that was true. Brenda seemed too authentic for a dream.

He shut off the lights and traveled back to his office. When he arrived at his desk, another drink poured into the glass.

A deep voice echoed in the room. "Hey partner."

Erickson knew the voice too well, but it had been years since it was last spoken. His vision focused on the mammoth body sitting on the couch. He stopped cold. "Moose?"

The voice chuckled, "What? You're not glad to see your old buddy."

"But...but you're dead." The situation was too much to handle. First his dead wife appeared and now his dead best friend. No matter how real this all appeared to be, the old man knew he was either drunk or senility had finally left its personal calling card.

'That's no excuse not to offer me some of that scotch. Besides Gene, I look damn good for a thirty year old corpse."

Another glass was found in the desk and a drink was issued. Erickson shuffled over to his longtime friend Moose. The man looked like he did back in '68, long before the heart attack took him down in '82. In his prime, Moose stood over six feet, seven inches and weighed around the four hundred pounds.

"I'm just fucking with you. I can’t grab that glass if I wanted to," he chuckled. "Besides, I'm at my peak physical condition here. Don’t want to ruin the temple." He patted his belly.

Erickson was intoxicated already. Another one wouldn't hurt him.” Cheers, old friend." He tipped the glass and let the alcohol slide once again.

"Friend." Moose's mood suddenly turned bitter. "A friend indeed." He rose up and towered over the frail old man. "A friend who stood idly by and watched as you fucked him over time and time again. The other numbskulls I could see. But me? The two of us were running buddies till the end. I'm not sure why you did it Gene. And I'm sure why I did nothing back then."

"I never screwed you Moose," Erickson said defensively. He was confused about the allegations. Moose was never one of those people who received light payouts. "I help make you a star. No other promoter would've taken that risk. You moved from carnival attraction to a contender."

“It's not about money." He poked at Erickson's chest.

He shouted back, "Then what exactly is this about!"

"Brenda," he stated with a heavy heart.

"Brenda?" Erickson's temper fizzled. He scanned his memory for anything to do with Moose and his wife. He came up empty. "She has nothing to do with this conversation."

"Really?" The big hearted giant sighed. Even with all his fame, the man never found a woman to love him. "I met Brenda three months before you did. I told you I liked her. It was my idea to shield the ladies from the boys in the locker room. But you came out looking like the hero. You got the girl."

Erickson realized how stupid he had been. He had forgotten about Moose revealing the secret to him. After the shower incident, Brenda asked him out for a walk. The couple remained together until her death. "I am sorry Moose, but the choice was Brenda's to make. Don’t blame me for the way your life turned out."

The big man was getting angry again. His deep voiced raised, "Do you mean dead at age forty-seven of a heartache or me alone and miserable?"

The tension grew between the two men. "I'm not at fault for how you chose to live your life," Gene said. "Take responsibility!"

Moose stepped back. Nothing could change his mind.” You were always a selfish prick! And tonight, you are going to get what you got coming to you. Finally"

"I don’t think so, old buddy," Erickson protested in heated voice. "You are simply not real. The scotch is messing with me." He tossed the empty glass on the couch.

Moose laugh bellowed, "You can’t possibly believe that nonsense. We have other plans in store for you."

"To hell with your plans," Erickson said while pointing his cane at Moose. "This is not happening. Now, I'm going home." He turned around and froze in place.

"You're not going anywhere Erickson," Moose replied.

Erickson scanned the room. All he saw where faces from the past. The wrestlers who had come and gone through his promotion over the years.

"I've brought some of the boys back with me. It seems a lot people had a grudge with you." The deep laugh echoed once again.

The angry faces stared back at Erickson. He looked at each and every one of them. Austin Goldman, age fifty-five. Always a fan favorite, he broke his back in 1977 leaving him paralyzed. A few months later, he committed suicide. If he couldn’t have the roar of the crowd then he didn’t want to live. Jason Renegade, age twenty-two. He broke his neck while practicing a high impact move. He died instantly. Gino Moretti, age thirty-six. He one of the best heels around and got stabbed in the gut by a crazed fan in 1961. He died in surgery that night. Donnie D, age twenty-nine. An innovator of high flying moves. He was found dead in a car wreck back in 1988. His blood alcohol level was over twice the legal limit. Calvin Mahon, age forty. His heart stopped in the middle of a match in 1995. Autopsy showed a large amount of pain killers in his system. They all had the look of revenge.

Erickson’s voice cracked. "What are you all doing here? I've never done a thing to any you. What could have against me?" There was no reply. “Well speak up Goldman. Come on Gino.” Silence remained. “This has gone on long enough.”

As the ring leader, Moose spoke for the group. "The problem is you never did enough. We all busted our asses for you. And what did we get in return. A fraction of what we should have been paid and an early grave."

Erickson's blood began to boil. He would not take the men's wrath without a fight. "None of this is my fault. Donnie you died in a car crash while working down in Florida for another promoter."

"And I know that you pocketed off the top," Moose added.

The comment was the final straw. "You can all go to Hell! I was the man who started the promotion. I had all the risks involved so I deserved to reap what rewards there were. You could have gone to a hundred different territories and worked if you wanted to leave here. But instead you wanted to grumble and bitch about it behind my back. We'll fuck each and every one of you. Have you all forgotten that I was one of the guys? I was in that ring too. I risked my health every single damn night too."

"You haven't been one of the boys for a long, long time."

"This is enough! I'm going home," Erickson shouted.

The dead wrestlers reached out to grab at the old man. Leaving the building was not an option.

Erickson screamed in terror. The only thought of defense came by swinging his cane at the apparitions. The only chance he had was to fight. Suddenly the cane dropped to the floor.

The crowd of deceased men backed away from the old man as he clinched his chest. The words “My heart…” barely spilled from his lips as he collapsed.

The room was empty. No ghosts remained. The old man’s body lay on cold, wooden floor.

On the desk, an empty bottle of Dewar’s was turned on its side.

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

Muse of My World

2010-01-28T12:31:00.005-05:00

Through the cover of shades you walked on by
As ours paths crossed for one moment in time
The incidental contact turned me to stone
With a flash of that smile our future was sewn
Crushed the fear inside and I knew we must talk
Down the lonesome trail I no longer wanted to walk
Two became one and through the years we defend
No one ever imagines the way it works out in the end

She halted the loneliness
With her sweet caress
The pain was put to rest
Together we made the best (of it)

Have you ever thought something was too good to last?
Time flies by living in the moment, not the past
Then the moment is gone
Gone, gone

Around the bend our love did flow
We sat back and watched the family grow
Through the years more good than bad
Illusions of the love was all that I had
Fake memories lingered in my brain
All the while you stood strong with the pain
Fighting the odds no matter what we were told
Never giving up even when we got old

She halted the loneliness
With her sweet caress
The pain was put to rest
Together we made the best (of it)

Have you ever thought something was too good to last?
Time flies by living in the moment, not the past
Then the moment is gone
Gone, gone

She halted the loneliness
With her sweet caress
The pain was put to rest
Together we made the best (of it)

Have you ever thought something was too good to last?
Time flies by living in the moment, not the past
Then the moment is gone
Gone, gone

And we lived
On
Inside my head

And we lived
On
Forever inside my head

And we lived
On
Inside my head

And we lived
On
Forever inside my head

Until we died
Off
Inside my head
Forever inside my head
Visions inside my head
Forever inside my head

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

Patterns

2009-12-19T09:43:00.000-05:00

I fall into the same patterns
When it comes women
and with love

I cant break the cycle
Repeating the moves
until I'm done

Everything ever desired
In a woman
is wrapped up inside of you

How much longer must I wait
Sick and tired of being the fool

You are full of indecison
Cant comprehend
the words you always speak

The longer you continue resisting
The sooner that I'll
stop and give up on you

I can deal with being brokenhearted
But cant deal with the funny
games you play

How much longer must I wait

Sick and tired of being the fool

How much longer must I wait

Sick and tired of being the fool

I fall into the same patterns
When it comes women
and with love

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

The Grind

2009-11-29T17:38:00.000-05:00

The world is blue
     No separation between night and day
          You wake up

Deal with the bullshit thrown your way
    Go to sleep
          Try to fool yourself with pleasant dreams

The sequence initiates
     Every motion is a repetitious device
          It’s second nature

Like a drone recycling material over the same splice
    Forging the blackness
          Searching for any sign of new optimism

          Looking for adventure to set me free
     Waiting for someone else to grab the reigns and lead
Instead of doing what's best for me

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

Growing Up

2009-10-27T10:53:00.005-04:00

The dead woman gnawed at the dog's bloated carcass. Maggots squirmed inside its guts. She chomped those down too. The craving for meat intensified with every chewy bite. She swallowed the last morsel of rotten flesh and walked towards the trailer.

Eddie watched in horror from the window. Sampson, his best friend and pet, died four days ago after being hit by a truck. The driver never stopped. The dog laid in the front yard rotting away ever since. Then today his mother went outside. It was the first time this week she left the bedroom. Eddie thought she was going to burying the dog because he couldn’t bear the idea of doing it himself. Instead, she started to eat Sampson.

Horrified, the kid ran to the front door and twisted the lock. He was only ten, nearly eleven since his birthday lingered in the month ahead, but he knew this situation with his mom was very, very wrong.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

The sounds echoed in the trailer as fists pounded against the aluminum door. His mom's voice creaked out, "Eddie. Let me in.” A pause, then continued, “Come on Eddie. I'm soooo hungry. I need to eat."

The child’s young age showed on his frightened face. He curled up on the floor in ball. He felt safe this way, if only for a moment. Tears streamed down his face. All he wanted was his mother back to normal. He had been watching the television and his brain processed all the pieces together. Eddie realized the severity of the situation. Worse, he was now by himself. The feeling of safety disappeared.

News about the virus broke quick. It was first discovered a week ago. For the last two days it was the only item on the television. The government held the media hostage with the real information about the virus’s origin. People speculated. The results ran rapid, from terrorist attacks to infected animals to acts of God.

The US was under a pandemic alert. Quarantine was issued. Rural residents were to stay in their homes and wait for military assistance to bring them to the safe holding spots. For those living in the city, it was much of the same.

The warning didn't stop many people from fighting for survival. Stores were ravaged for supplies. Chaos erupted. People turned on each other. Martial law was now the norm.

Eddie didn't know what was worse - the constant pounding on the door or his mother's shrill voice. He finally had enough of both. The situation was unfair for a kid. It was unfair for anyone. His grieving ceased as the tears wiped away from his red eyes. He screamed at the thing outside the door, "GO AWAY!"

"I cant Eddie. So hungry. You need to feed me."

"JUST GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"But I'm your mother Edward. And you will listen to me. Open the door right now."

The tone sounded just like his mom's. His hand rested on the doorknob as his heart gave in. Images from the television changed his mind. "I love you. But you are not my mother any more. You're dead." He moved back to the window for a better view.

Eddie was all alone. His father left years ago, never to return. None of his grandparents were still alive. His best friend had been eaten. His mother was dead. The time to fight for survival had come.

Janet kept slamming her fists against the door. A few memories of her past remained rattling inside her head. She knew the virus infected her. When death came, she went outside to protect her son. None of these facts mattered any more. The hunger pangs enslaved her and superseded every other thought. Feeding the organism inside her was the top priority. If she denied eating, the body would rot.

The dead thing stopped hitting the door. It sniffed the air for the smell of flesh. It needed a different strategy.

The virus killed. No exceptions. Usually within thirty-six hours.

About one hour after a person's death, the virus incubated. It took over the body causing the corpse to rise again. The only way to kill the incubated viral cells was complete destruction of the body. Fire seemed to be the best option.

Eddie eyes never left his former mother. He watched as it scuffled around to the other side of the trailer. Why, he thought? The backdoor? They always kept it locked. He grabbed the aluminum bat from his room and went to track it down.

As he cautiously walked down the narrow hallway, his heart thumped against his chest. He arrived at the backdoor. It was locked.

In his mother's bedroom, Eddie raised the curtains and peaked out the window. The woods were all he could see. Where did she go? The windows are too high up to get inside the trailer. He doubted if the dead thing gave up trying to capture him. A security check needed to be done.

He intently looked out the window again. All clear. Back down the hallway. All clear. The kitchen/dining room had windows on both sides. Checking the front, he saw the empty stairs leading to the front door and the Grand Am in the drive way. All clear. At the back windows more trees stood. All clear. These rooms opened up in the living room creating one rather large space. He checked the second set on windows in the front. He saw the same items from a different view, along with County Road 44.

The sun's reflected off of something, temporarily blinding him. He couldn’t make it the object. He shifted his body to another spot and located the source. The house keys were swinging from the door.

He glanced over at his bedroom. The door was closed. He had left it opened.

The grip on the bat tightened. Eddie inched closer to the room. He exhaled a deep breath. His hand reached for the handle. Before he could touch it, the door swung open. The boy’s eyes grew large and he froze.

She stared at the meat, salivating. "Hello boy," it said as fear filled the air.

Eddie broke from his paralyzed state. He swung the bat as it lunged towards him.

The dead thing took the impact. The force stopped the thing for an instant, but there wasn't much force behind the swing to do much good. It jumped on the kid.

They rolled around on the floor with his dead mother trying to take a bite from his body. He was already bigger than his petite mother and used every extra bit of weight. He connected with a punch and followed it with several more, enabling him to break free.

Eddie ran to the kitchen. He wanted to find the butcher's knife. He opened the fridge door, then the oven door, and anything else to buy a few extra precious seconds.

Not all humans were affected by the virus. A few showed immunities. Scientists were hard at work trying to pinpoint the reasons behind the immunities. They needed to create an anti-virus, but the disease was spreading too damn fast. Hope seemed futile.

The creature asked, "Why do you want to hurt me, son?" and slammed the fridge door shut. “I am still your mother.” It didn't notice the oven door and tripped. The thing's head smacked against the cold metal.

Eddie wasted no time. He grabbed the heavy oven rack and brought it down with all his might. Again and again. Blood sprayed across his face and poured from the dead thing's head. His mother’s head.

The creature spoke softly. Part of it still resembled his mother. "I'm sorry Eddie. I’m sorry I didn’t….” The voice trailed off to an inaudible level.

His eyes welled with emotion. "Me too Mom. I love you." Eddie came down with the final blow. The body twitched. He scooped it up and crammed it inside the oven. Surprised that entire body fit, he shut the door and locked it. The knob was turned all the way up. Sounds he never wanted to hear rang from inside.

Eddie scrubbed the blood from his face, turning his flesh red. He hoped the virus didn't infect him.

There was nothing for him here any longer. He shoved some clothes inside his backpack along with matches, knives, canned food, and water. He tried not to look at the oven.

With the backpack slung over his shoulder, he walked out the front door. He headed away from town thinking it might be a little safer. Maybe he could find a safety house or a military truck he’d saw on the news. And The Merrick’s lived down the road about a quarter of mile. Maybe he could stop there and check it out.

Eddie’s search for other survivors began.

THE END

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

Content

2009-10-14T15:01:00.000-04:00

Jaded present moves towards future
Hollow on the inside
Complacency

Frontiers abound pass by unknown
Building layers of protection
Weakness

Experiences shuffled blindly aside
Locked inside your mind
Empty

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

High Plains

2009-09-16T11:16:00.009-04:00

An ear shattering, crunching sound broke through the night's silence.

Megan jumped from sleep mode to instant alertness. She scanned the surrounding brush with the little remaining light which flickered from the amber coals of the fire. Her left hand held a small pistol. The safety clicked off. She listened carefully to the noises of the night.

Crickets chirped.

A gentle breeze blew across the long grass.

Her heart pounded softer and softer. Her free hand gripped the LED flashlight. It shined across the prairie for what seemed like miles.

Nothing was around. At least not a thing she could see.

Megan quickly dismissed her decision to walk across the back country roads of Kansas alone. The Sergeant trained her well. And every day in the last twenty-two years spent proving herself to the man. The need to surpass his expectations constantly churned in her stomach. The stubbornness was inherited honestly. She wasn't the son he wanted, but she was still the man's only child.

The woman packed away her defenses and started prodding at the fire. A couple of more hours remained until sunlight rose across the horizon. Her eyelids grew heavy.

CRUNCH!
SNAP!

Megan seized the weapon once again. The noise was near by, maybe only twenty feet away. It has to be an animal, she thought. Something small moving in the brush. No need to get worried. You can handle this Megan. The flashlight penetrated the darkness.

A loud, high pitched SHRIEK interrupted her thoughts. What the hell?

Almost instantly another SHRIEK came from behind her. She quickly turned and scanned the area. The tall grass rustled about twelve feet in front of her. The SHRIEK came a second time. Then immediately back from the original spot.

Were these animals communicating? Was it mating season? Did they mean to harm her? Could they be hunting her? These questions fired in her brain. The dueling SHRIEKS broke her contemplation.

A third SHRIEK joined in. This one on Megan's left around fifteen feet away. In all the time spent camping, she had never heard any sounds similar to these.

She attempted to remain calm by taking deep breaths while she examined the options.

At least three creatures surrounded her in a sea of the tall, grassy, Midwestern plains. These things may or may not be hunting her. The wind made endless waves to the horizon. About thirty yards was an old country road which led to the unknown and came from nowhere. A car had not traveled by in hours. No houses in sight. It was only Megan left to make a stand or flee.

She slowly backed toward the road ready to make an escape and suddenly stopped. The Sergeant wouldn't be pleased by the choice. He would stand ground and fight the enemy head on.

A chorus of SHRIEKS began.

One.
Two.
Five.
Seven.
The sounds came in all different directions. All moving closer to her every second.

Megan knew running away was the smartest option. But pride kept to her place. She readied herself for the battle and became determined to hold her ground. Victory will be mine, she thought.

She tried to establish the number of beasts in the grass. The beam of light inched back and forth across the terrain until it reflected back at her. An even higher pitched YELP of pain came from the rustling grass. The animal rapidly ran in the opposite direction.

Megan did not get a good look at the camouflaged creature, just its black eye which reflected the light.

Then multiple SHRIEKS commenced in an aggressive tone.

Megan fired a warning shot in the air. It echoed across the night. Hopefully the sound would scare the animals away. She cocked her head and listened carefully for movement. Only silence. She thought, Did I scare them off?

She surveyed the grass, nothing on the first sweep. The second time around, it appeared a large clump of grass was edging towards her.

Megan realized it wasn't a mound of dirt after all. Fear crept up to her throat, but swallowed it back down in her pit of emptiness just as she had done so many times before.

The plod of grass had claws sticking out from underneath it. Four sharp talons lay next to four others. An elongated and thin nose protruded the base. It ruffled as it sniffed the air. The black eyes set on each side of the nose. The grass was actually quills growing out of bushy fur on the creature's back.

Another shot boomed across the night. The bullet drove into the ground inches away from the animal. Dirt flew into the air.

The creature now GROWLED in a low, threatening tone. It rose up on all fours, ready to attack. Fanged teeth exposed. It was as big as pit bull.

Megan aimed her gun. This threat would soon be terminated. Then the next one and then next until this problem solved. She had one full clip in her pocket and plenty of bullets left in this one. All of focus and concentration was on this animal.

She never heard the other animal closing in from behind.

The creature ran towards her on thick, stubby legs. At the moment of impact, it let out the same GROWL as the other one. Megan squeezed the trigger as the animal’s claws ripped through the flesh on her right calf. Blood poured from the wound as muscle and tendons were shredded.

The bullet pierced into the creature’s head. A direct hit connected between its eyes, splattering blood and small chunks of brain on the ground.

With adrenaline kicking in, she turned the gun down at the ravenous beast and blasted away. One of the bullets entered its head. It collapsed. Dead. She wobbled as bad leg could no longer hold the weight and recognized the seriousness of her injury.

The GROWLS rumbled in the air. Another animal took off running towards her. It lunged for her face with its fangs exposed.

She managed to get her arm up and take brunt of the blow. The gun flew from her hand upon collision. The pain felt like sharp knives slicing her forearms. More blood emptied from her.

The grass turned red.

Megan held back the tears. Her father always said show the enemy no weakness.

Ten creatures emerged from the grass. They sensed the blood in the air and a weakened victim. Simultaneous GROWLS hummed as the beasts circled the prey.

Megan realized her fate. She cursed her father, the damn Marine Sergeant and his fucking rules. She cursed herself for being dumb and bullheaded; knowing the opportunity for safety had long passed.

The animals attacked. They scratched flesh from her body. They chewed the meat from her bones. They bit into organs. They lapped the spilled blood. The feast was good.

Tears never came from Megan. Not even when the pain became too much to bear. The Sergeant would be proud she showed the enemy no mercy.

THE END

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

Hanging Around

2009-09-07T12:37:00.003-04:00

Josh found himself hanging upside.

His head pounded. Rope circled his wrists. Another entwined his ankles and snaked over the rafter. The hair on his head brushed against the floor as his body swayed in the humid air. How he ended up in this situation, he couldn't remember.

Last night, some of the volunteers decided to head to the local bar for a drink. They needed a break. After a few hours, they all decided to leave. But not Josh, he needed to unwind further. Plus he wanted to fuck the lady at the end of the bar. He had been flirting with her all night and despite the language barrier, he didn't think she was prostitute.
He failed. Eventually the bartender, who spoke English, yelled at him to get out. Then he forced Josh out the door.

He stumbled down the street, trying to remember the way back to the volunteer's camp. Why in the hell did he leave Chicago to travel half way across the globe and help Tsunami victims? Two and half more months of this shit remained. Josh knew exactly the reason why he signed up. Brenda. The woman he loved and asked to marry. The woman broke off their five year relationship after he proposed. He couldn't handle the rejection or the splitting of items in the apartment or their mutual friends having to make a choice between them. The situation weighed him down until he almost broke mentally. A temporary leave of absence was desperately needed. So he rented a storage unit for what little stuff he owned and came here on the spur of the moment.

The past month flew in his mind as he staggered down a darkened side street to piss.The final thing he remembered was a rather large Filipino men walking towards him. Then nothing.

Now he found himself strung up. Naked. A gag placed in his mouth. The situation seemed bleak, but he remained calm. Surely somebody at the camp would realize he was missing and start asking questions. This village wasn’t very large and he was one of the few Americans here. Certainly he would be found.

Two men powered into the building; an old man and a much larger, younger man who was possibly the same guy from the previous night. They talked in their native tongue which Josh didn’t understand. The old man looked at him. A wicked smile crept across his face.

A feeling of dread instantly filled him.

The old man scurried over, grinning wide. He sniffed at the white flesh. His callus fingers poked the ribs. He gripped the penis and inspected it. His hands rubbed over the white man's thighs and pinched the ass. He then flicked at the skull and listened, like a person might do to find a ripe coconut. The old man was excited by the specimen. He giggled with glee. The language spouted back and forth between the two men.

Josh knew the men were bartering over him. An escape needed to be planned. He looked around the room. Knives and machetes hung on the wall. Blood stained the wood floor.

The men stopped haggling. The large man walked over. He pulled the ropes and hoisted Josh up in the air another foot. A large basket was slide beneath him.

The man walked back over the wall of knives. He made a choice and came back over to Josh.

The blade cut a chunk from Josh’s ass. Screams tried to leave his mouth but the gag blocked all sounds. Blood ran from the wound and trickled down his body's frame. He watched in horror as the large man handed the piece of flesh to the old man, who stuffed it in his mouth.

Pure ecstasy poured in the old man's soul as he chewed. The flesh empowered him. The white man always tasted much different than his type of people. They were well feed. Their meat became marbled with fatty cells. It was delicious. He shouted at the large man, who nodded back.

Josh struggled to break out the ropes. The attempt was meaningless. Why him? He was a decent guy. He did not deserve to be murdered and then eaten. He would wind up as a missing person.

The large man came towards him with the machete in hand. It was time to finish the transaction.

The old man danced with joy and sat down for a front row view of the execution. His lips stained red.
The blade sliced across Josh's neck. The blood ran red and warm over his eyes. The bucket began to fill. Josh hoped Brenda would feel guilty about his disappearance. Maybe she would even to something drastic like come to the Philippines to try and find him. The happy thought remained as he started to slip away.

Fading.
Fading.
Gone.

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

Between the Lines

2009-09-03T15:35:00.000-04:00

If I take off down the road

I chose not to tell a soul

Would any one even know

That I left and was gone

If no communication was made

Through a computer or cell

Could I find my way

And escape this personal hell

I can offer you all the things you want

But you dont want it from me

You can misinterpret reading between the lines

Seems like I've changed in your eyes

For reasons unknown to mine

You've grown distant and cold in time

It's all I can do to keep on going and try

I can offer you all the things you want

But you dont want it from me

You can misinterpret reading between the lines

I can offer you all the things you want

But you dont want it from me

You can misinterpret reading between the lines

You can misinterpret the meaning
when you read between the lines

Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

Junkie for a Heartache

2009-08-17T13:47:00.001-04:00

Time and time and endless times again
Patterns fall, start over and begin
Thoughts churn inside my mind
     Of love
     Of lust
     Of fate
Deep down I’m just a hopeless romantic who seems to be romantically hopeless.

Close off the part so not to get hurt
No way to live, don’t want to revert
Burn the time holding thoughts at bay
     Of seclusion
     Of disappointment
     Of torment
Deep down I’m just a hopeless romantic who seems to be romantically hopeless.

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

Strung Out On You

2009-07-21T13:27:00.001-04:00

We're two people lost in a cruel, lonely world
Hoping to find another person to complete
Given the chance I can be the one
If you'd only choose to reciprocate

I need you to be a hooked on my love
To feed the craving inside
I wear my feelings in the open
A blank slate with nothing to hide

Getting beat down every day
Fighting a battle which cannot be won
Making my dreams obsolete
Cause your smitten with a different one

It doesn't help our situation
Having all the qualities you desire
Has me cornered up in a zone
But adoration I cant acquire

I need you to be a hooked on my love
To feed the craving inside
I wear my feelings in the open
A blank slate with nothing to hide

Getting beat down every day
Fighting a battle which cannot be won
Making my dreams obsolete
Cause your smitten with a different one

You cant see the inside because of the out
You cant spot I posses what you cant live without
I need you to be a junkie for my love
Because I'm strung out on you
Because I'm strung out on you

By Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

The Watcher

2009-06-20T08:01:00.005-04:00

Nick glared with fury at all the boxes on the floor. Where to begin, he thought. The entire process of moving was huge pain in the ass. He loathed it. But this time the choice had been made for him. His previous apartment complex once again raised the rent, the third significant increase in the last three years. On his salary finding new accommodations was necessary.

A friend told him about this place, a small building with six apartments on three levels. It wasn't the most glamorous apartment, kind of run down even, but it had a decent amount of space for a low cost. He wouldn't be sweating every month in hopes the rent check cleared before his paycheck entered his bank account. This would be a good move for Nick, even if the apartment did need some work. Ruth, the landlady, told him that any major upgrades would be reimbursed with rent deductions. It was a sweet deal.

The furniture was already in place. The only remaining task was to unpack the boxes. He stared at the rustic, hardwood floors. The apartment definitely had character. He grabbed a box labeled BATHROOM and began.

The overhead light brightened the room from darkness. The mundane task of unpacking began, starting with hanging the shower curtain. Not long passed before two boxes were empty. Towels were put in the cabinet, mats on the floor, and cleaning supplies under the sink. Only one box remained and then it would be time for a beer break.

Nick reached for the corner of what he assumed was the medicine cabinet. Pulling harder than anticipated, he instantly realized the mistake. The medicine cabinet was actually only a mirror and now unattached from the wall. As it started to fall, he reached his other hand out for the opposite corner of the mirror. Luckily Nick was able to perform a magic-like balancing act by leaving the top of the mirror resting against the wall while cradling the bottom against his chest. The mirror was saved from breaking into pieces.

"That was too damn close," he said and cautiously sat the mirror on the bathroom floor. The bent hooks dangle from the breaking plaster. "Great.” He hopped on the toilet to further inspect the damages.

He latched on to the hook furthest away from his reach and pulled it out from the wall rather easily. He let go and watched the long screw with a hook on the end fall into the trash. Rubble fell as his fingers dug into the hole cleaning it out. I need a stepladder. He grabbed the other hook and tugged away. It didn’t release. Nick pulled again, only harder. The hook shot out from the wall causing him to lose balance. He slipped off the toilet and came crashing down onto his side. “Owwww,” was all he could mutter as the cool tile smashed against his face.

He managed to stand up, relatively unharmed except for pride. The screw hook remained in his grip with the white plaster covered tip sticking out at the bottom. He threw it in the trash alongside its buddy. “Fuck this. It’s time for a beer.”

**********

The neighborhood was quiet on this June night. Nick observed the traffic while a cool breeze blew though the window. The apartment was beginning to feel like a home after only a week. Finally all of his personal possessions were put away and in their rightful place. The only task left to do was plastering up those holes in the bathroom and hanging the mirror. Both tasks were on the agenda for tomorrow.

As he walked through the darkened living room he saw a speck of light shining in the bathroom. Nick poked his head inside the doorway and immediately located the source. The beam of light was coming from one of the holes. Curiously he walked closer. Muffled sounds of music rang from the other side, followed by a female voice singing. The voice was louder and clearer and obviously not coming from the same source as the music. It must be the never seen neighbor, he thought.

Never seen was a lie. Nick caught a glimpse of her dark red haired and slender body entering her apartment on his second day here. In that quick moment, she captivated him. He should’ve knocked on the door and introduced himself right then, but chose not to. He figured being the only two people living on the third floor the opportunity would arise again soon. Almost a week had passed by and Renee Gladdys, her name according to the mailbox downstairs, had not been seen since.

He crept closer and pressed his ear against the wall, hearing the faint splashing of water filling a large basin. The beautiful singing voice had Nick in a trance. The sudden urge to see this woman ripped through his brain. He stared at the hole above.

Nick exited and quickly returned with a stepladder. At the top he was almost eye level with the hole. Hesitation occurred. I shouldn’t do this, he pondered. He was not the peeper type. But the siren’s voice kept calling out to him. It was urging him to take a quick gaze at the mystery on the other side.

And then curiosity won out. He peered into the small hole.

A luxurious woman soaked in a tub. Steam rose from the transparent water. Her red hair wetted down, clamping on to her soft white cheeks and the ends floating among the dispersing bubbles around her shoulders. Her pink nipples were poking just above the water line like they were breathing for air. The rest of her body was submerged, with the reddish-brown pubic hair dancing with the water’s current.

Renee was more striking than he previously thought. He continued to watch her bathe. The guilt drowned out by the song. Excitement pulsed in Nick’s body as bulge began to grow in his pants. A few minutes felt like days as he was transfixed on her movements. In that instant, he wanted to be with her more than any other woman before.

She stood up with water dripping from her skin. The music stopped playing and the only sound Nick now heard was his heavy panting. Renee patted her curvy body dry making the moisture disappear. The towel wrapped around her hair. He could never figure out how women got the towel to stay in place. She moved towards her sink.

Closer to the hole.

Shit! Nick instantly pulled back, almost falling from the ladder. Did she see me? His heart raced as the fear of being caught replaced the sexual electricity. He gripped the ladder and waited in silence. Eventually the little ray of light shining through the hole turned black. Calmness came not long after.

As he slept, the soaked goddess ran through his dreams the entire night.

**********

Nick sat in his car at the end of the work day. The frustrations of his job boiled inside. He had no other real avenues to explore, so he dealt. He ended up managing a camera shop, because of his experience with cameras and photography in general. So he dealt with the constant barrage of shit from customers not knowing what they wanted or thinking the gear was over priced. He needed to finish the portfolio and get his work online. Maybe then he could get on the paying end of taking pictures.

The phone rang on the seat next him. The ID read Sammy. He answered as he opened the door. “I don’t feel like it tonight, man...man. Shitty day is all... gotta work on some stuff.” As he approached the door a familiar red head was exiting the building. “Sammy I got to go. Call you later.”

The two neighbors walked past each other, exchanging glances. Nick decided this was as good of moment as any.

He called out to her, “Hey, you’re Renee aren’t you?”

The lady stopped in her tracks. Fear and vulnerability was written all over her as she opened her purse and quickly searched for an item.

Realizing he scared the shit out of her, Nick continued. “No wait! I’m your neighbor from upstairs. Nick Manning.” The tension in the woman eased a bit. “I got your name off the mailbox.” He cautiously stepped towards her, extending his hand. “Sorry, that was probably the worst way I could’ve introduced myself to you.”

She smiled and returned to her naturally cheerful self. “Yeah, I’m Renee.” She shook his hand. “I should be the one who’s sorry. I’m just a bit paranoid around strangers. You can never be too safe. You know.” There was a faint Irish accent to her voice.

“It’s my fault. Blurting stuff out at you. It’s just that I’ve been here a couple of weeks and haven’t seen you around much, so thought I’d just introduce myself.”

“That’s good. I like to know who lives next to me. Ruthie told me a little bit about you.”

“She did?”

“At least what she knows. It wasn’t much.”

The encounter ended. Nick the idiot couldn’t think of anything else to say to her. The exchanged goodbye’s and went on their separate ways.

But the image of her wet body burned in his brain.

**********

Nick pressed CANCEL on his cell phone. He had to go fill in at the store for a couple of hours for a sick employee. He burst out of his door and headed for the steps, pissed off. When Renee entered his field of vision the anger subsided. She was standing at her doorway, talking with Ruth.

The women looked his way. “Hello Nick. How are you today?” Ruth asked as he walked by. Then she fired off another question before he had time to answer the first. “Have you met Renee yet?”

“Ya. Briefly. And I’m fine today. ”

“I already told you I met him, Ruthie. I just forgot his name was all.” She smiled and directed the next statement at Nick. “Sorry, I’m forgetful with names.” Faces she never forgot.

“That’s alright,” he said with a smile cracking on his face. “I’d love to stick around and talk but – “.

“You’re in a hurry. I’ll see you later on, then.” She smiled back.

“Until then. Good day ladies.” And he left cursing unreliable Emily because she got ill.

They watched him walk away. “Such a nice young man,” Ruth said. “I’m glad we found him.”

**********

As soon as he walked inside the door, Nick headed straight for the bathroom to empty his bladder. He only covered at the photo shop for a couple of hours, but he hated closing the store. Sammy begged him to stop by the bar and have a drink He felt bad for turning him down the other day and made up for it tonight. Now relief came as urine flowed freely into the toilet.

A single beam of light shined in the dark bathroom. It came from the hole which Nick put off fixing. He wondered what Renee was doing on the other side. He shook away the dribbles and zipped up. A strong compulsion to peak began to conquer once again. The step ladder was folded up next to the sink. The urge once again won out. The climb began.

As he got closer to the hole, he could hear the sounds of water spurting from a shower head and beating against the porcelain tub. His eye peered through to see a robe fall from her shoulders onto the floor. Renee stepped inside and pulled the nearly translucent curtain closed. His view was that of slightly unfocused camera. He didn’t see the details were fuzzy, but the image itself was close enough to make out.

And he watched it all unfold. She soaped up her body. With a cloth scrubbed the filth away. She lathered her hair, rinsed, and repeated.

Lonely Nick kept his eye peering at the woman and swallowed his shame.

Renee changed the setting on the showered head to a massage mode and turned the water slightly warmer. The beads of water beat down on her neck, relaxing her. She rubbed the nipple on her left breast and moaned when jumped to attention. Her other hand moved down her flat mid-section. Hands danced across her body. She turned around and the water sprayed against her stomach. The creamy white flesh turned pink from the heat. She backed up until hit the sweet spot between her legs. She moaned louder as fingers rubbed her clit.

Nick filled in the missing details filled in with his vivid imagination. His jeans grew tighter. Regardless of the building shame, there was no way he could force his eyes away from this moment. Her private moment.

Renee continued to pleasure herself, rubbing faster. He grabbed his member and began to stroke. The pace quickened. He tugged faster as she moaned louder. And suddenly, her last moan rang throughout as he climaxed.

He stared only for a few moments longer as his vitals returned to normal. Renee cooled down with water splashing across her face. She got out of the tub to dry the wetness. Nick stepped down from the ladder. There was a mess dripping down the wall to clean up.

Shortly after a change of clothes and a wipe down of the bathroom wall, a knock came on the door. Nick opened it to find Renee. Immediately his heart pumped rapidly. Certainly he had been busted.

A bottle of merlot held firmly in her grip. “Can I come in, Nick?”

He regained some composure. “Yes. Please.” he said and stepped aside. The image of her naked flesh flashed in his mind as she passed by.

“I brought a house warming gift. Hope you have a bottle opener and glasses.”

“Somewhere around here. Go ahead have a seat while I look for it.” He searched the kitchen drawers for an opener while Renee moved to the couch. Luckily he found one and grabbed a couple of wine glasses before joining her.

“Hopefully I’m not intruding. Did you have plans for the evening?”

“Not all Renee. Actually I just got home.” Nick worked the screw into the cork. “I had to run into work for a couple of hours.”

“Good.” A smile innocently crept upon her face. “Good that you’re home I mean, not that you had to work.” That particular image of her beauty should be frozen in time for all to gaze upon, much like the Mona Lisa. It melted Nick’s heart as he snapped the photo in his brain. “Where do you work?”

He pulled the cork from the bottle and began to pour. “I manage Killien’s Photo, down on Parnell. But really I’m trying to get some steady work as a photojournalist. I’ve even considered opening my own business for general photography. But I really don’t want to be stuck doing weddings and family portraits.”

“May I see some of your work?” She sipped the wine. A faint, red lipstick print was left on the rim.

“Mot of my stuff is on the computer. I’m a putting together my portfolio. But all the pictures hanging are my shots.” The aroma from the glass filled his nostrils and he drank. “Nice bouquet.”

She gazed around the room at the pictures. “Are you a connoisseur of wines?

His bluff was called. “Not a damn thing,” he chuckled. “I just wanted to sound impressive.”

The smile returned and all fears inside Nick subsided. In her presence a calmness filled him. “That’s alright. The world doesn’t need any more wine snobs. People need to learn how to enjoy simple pleasures. One never knows when you’re time will end.”

“Agreed.” He took a sip.

“The wine is private stock. A friend makes it.”

“Tell them it’s very tasty.”

“I shall.” Then Renee walked over to color photo of an orange sunset across a beach. The picture hung by the bathroom door.

His heart jumped again. What if she had to use the bathroom? Would she notice the hole? Would she see the mirror on the floor? He had to gain her attention and get her away from the bathroom. “I like this one over here better,” he said while putting a hand on the backside of her shoulder and gently forced her in another direction. “Tell me about your job.”

She hated people touching her. Call it a phobia, or even peeve. She moved, hoping the hand would fall away. “I’m embarrassed to say.”

“Really? Cant be that bad.”

She examined the detail in the black and white photo of baseball cover lying in the grass. “Well…I really don’t work at all. I inherited some family money and invest in the stock market. I live modestly off the earnings and frequently travel.”

“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s the American Dream. I’d love to concentrate on my passion and not work ever day.”

She studied the photo and inquisitively looked at him. “Is this a tampon?” The picture did resemble a maxi-pad laid open in the grass. “I get asked that a lot. Actually it’s the cover from a baseball.”

She glanced at the photo again before making her way back to the couch.

The bottle emptied and the conversation continued as time flew by. Nike realized that he liked this woman. An aura surrounded her presence, one of a person much wiser than their age. He felt ashamed for spying on her and vowed to stop the invasion of her privacy. He planned to patch the hole and cease the temptation. Some mysteries about her needed to be found out in the moment.

Midnight rolled around, they decided to call it an evening.

As he walked her to the door, a phrase blurted out from his mouth. “Maybe I can take your pictures some time?” Instantly Nick regretted say it. He never asked women that question. It sounded like a sleazy come on.

“I don’t know. I’m not very photogenic.” Her cheeks glowed with embarrassment.

"You’ve just never had a good photographer.” His fingers gently danced around her facial features.

The peeve of unauthorized touching rose and she pulled away slightly, but not enough to make Nick get the hint. “Nor am I fan of my picture being taken.”

Realizing a personal boundary may have been crossed, he dropped his hand. “Well, if you ever change your mind...” The connection between sparked.

Renee wrapped her arms around him in a loose embrace. It was followed by a peck on his right cheek. “You’re sweet. Goodnight Nick” She walked out the door while saying, “Next time you bring the wine.”

She glanced back at him watching her. Soon, she would have him.

**********

Nick hadn’t seen her in about six days. He wanted to reciprocate the visit. Two nice bottles of white chardonnay were purchased for the occasion. The promise of not spying had been kept, but a busy schedule had not allowed him to patch the hole yet.

He had a photo shoot scheduled. I was an easy job, some head shots for an actor at the university. He just had to run up to the apartment and grab a his gear.

Voices echoed down the stairwell. When he got to the top, Renee was walking away from her apartment. An older, debonair gentleman in an expensive suit stood next to her. The man didn’t notice him.

Renee’s smile brightened the hallway. It made him forget about the bit of jealousy that crept up inside. “Nick. How are you?” She hugged him tightly.

The man checked the time on his Gucci watch, not caring about the interaction.

Nick said, “I’m fine. Yourself?”

“I am lovely. Got back from Montreal late last night. A fabulous city.”

The man now grew impatient. He cleared his throat. “Uh—em.”

An authority glance from Renee silenced him. “Calm down Marcos. We won’t be late.” Her focus again turned to Nick. “I’m sorry but we must run. We’ll talk another time.” The couple continue on their evening out.

“Alright. See you then.” Her scent filled the air. It was intoxicating. Nick breathed in deeply before opening his door .

It was after 1am. Nick had been so focused on resizing and touching up photos that the time skipped away from him. At least the portfolio was now completed. The hours of staring at the computer monitor made his eyes burn. Lack of sleep wasn’t helping either.

All thoughts of a shower were erased when he entered the darkness of the bathroom to notice a tiny beam of light shining in. Muffled voices traveled through the wall. Nick tried not to pay attention, but he gravitated towards the hole. Closer to the voices. Was she still with the guy from earlier tonight?

A deep, older voice said, “You must be careful. We cannot afford to be exposed.”

Renee’s voice replied. “I am always careful. Besides, Ruthie looks after my interests.”

“You are a wild card and have always acted as such.”

“I can’t help it. When I am hungry, I feed. I do not suppress my urges like some of us. It is unnatural.”

“If you get caught, there will only be one punishment. Death.”

“I won’t be caught. Remember, I’ve been doing this almost as long as you have. My so called carelessness has kept me alive for centuries.”

“Don’t forgot who made you girl,” the deep voice said.

The comment was immediately followed by female laughter. “Marcos. You did indeed make me. But that doesn’t mean you control me. Have you forgotten? I’m a very independent woman.”

“Damn it Renee! There are rules to be followed.”

“To hell with rules. Survival is all that matters.”

“Survival depends on the rules set in place.”

“I’m never changing my ways. This debate is finished. Now come here.”

Did he hear this conversation correctly? None of it made sense. The shower could wait until the morning. He was exhausted and fighting sleep.

Heavy panting and loud moaning resonated through the tiny opening. The sounds drew him closer.

Once again Nick found himself staring into the little beam of light. Another broken promise to himself. Another violation on his neighbor’s privacy. The rage of jealousy arose and could be blamed. Renee should be with him. Not that old man. His eye focused on the images.

Renee was naked, hunched over the bath tub. He saw a bare leg and an arm hanging over the edge. Slurping and sucking sounds vibrated in the room.

Nick’s mind filled in the blanks. He didn’t want to watch her fuck another guy. He wanted to experience that in the moment and not through the looking glass. Yet he couldn’t turn away. Excitement pulsated through his body raising his penis to attention.

A loud moan exited Renee as her body curved back away from the tub. Red trickled from the corners of her ruby red lips. Blood covered her neck and splashed over her breast like an incoming tide on a beach. She hissed in delight. Her head dove back to the victim. Blood splattered against the white tiles on the wall.

Nick awoke to find a mess under the sheets. The smell of semen filled his nostrils. Stickiness remained on his groin. He hadn’t had a wet dream in years.

In a way, he was pleased. It meant what he saw last night wasn’t real. It was one of the most realistic dreams he ever had, Renee as a vampire sucking blood from a guy.

Strange.

And why the hell would that image make him orgasm?

**********

“Come on over tonight. Around 10pm. I’ll be home,” she told Nick.

“I’m not imposing, am I?”

“Not at all. It’s your turn.”

“See you then,” he proclaimed from down the hall as they both entered their apartments.

His dreams were haunted by her lovely naked body. He wanted her more than any other woman before. Maybe tonight he could charm his way into sex. He dove into his work, trying not to let the thoughts consume his head.

Nick polished off the next few hours creating a website. He planned to post some of his photos online. He could reach far more people this way than with a book of pasted pictures in a binder.

The accomplishment filled him with satisfaction.

Nick noticed the clock read 10:11. He grabbed the wine and headed for next door.

Renee greeted him at the door. Her nipples formed dime sized circles pressed against the white fabric of her blouse. Nick tried not to stare as he handed her the wine.

She went to uncork the bottle of already chilled white and pour to glasses. Nick looked around her place for more of an insight to his neighbor.

“You like my place,” she asked.

“The style was very similar to mine.”

The apartment had the same layout. It had the same wood walls and the same flooring. It was almost identical, except for the large symbol carved into the wood wall. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the symbol. Images swirled in his mind. Just as sudden, reality was back to normal.

Renee stood next to him holding a glass of wine. “Nick? Hello? I said here’s your glass of wine.”

“What? Oh…yeah. Thanks.” He took the glass from her.

“Let’s have a seat.” Renee headed for one of the two puffy chairs.

Nick caught a glimpse of her ass, which was lifted and snug in all the right places inside her faded, low cut jeans. He went to the second chair.

Conversation began. Soon glasses were being refilled.

“How are you coming along with the pictures?”

“Finished. I put the book together and I attempted to build a website tonight.”

“Can I see the book?” She stared at him intently.

Once again, an odd sensation pulsated through his body. “Sure.” They’re eyes locks. The sensation was like a spellbinding drunkness.

Renee put down the glass and sauntered over, her bare feet gliding across the wood floor. “You are handsome young man.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled. Complements were always hard to take, especially those about his average physical features. He now grew even more lightheaded as if he’d been drinking for hours. His mind was clouded. “I can’t be too much younger than you are.” Nick sensed the line between reality and fantasy blurring rapidly.

She sat down and straddled his lap. “I am much older than I than appear, my darling.”

The excitement tingled in his groin as weight pressed down against him. As she kissed his neck the anticipation rose. Their lips touched in a soft exchange. The breathing got heavier. Their tongues penetrated each other’s mouths, swirling and dancing around. The moment he hoped for was drawing near. The bulge in his pants tightened, urging to be let loose.

The make out session abruptly stopped. The silence was broken by a loud hiss. His ears could not hone in on where the sound came from. He felt Renee pull away from his mouth. Nick opened his eyes. Fear paralyzed him.

Renee’s yellow eyes gleamed. The rows jagged teeth dripped with saliva. The beast let out another loud hiss.

Before Nick comprehended what actually happened, it was finished. The beast moved too quickly.

Their lips unlocked and Nick jumped in the air. The force bucked Renee off his lap. Due to her cat like balance, she man managed not to fall onto the floor. Barely. “What the fuck, she shouted!”

It took a few moments for Nick to gather his senses. The room was normal.

He felt normal.

Renee appeared to be normal.

She was pissed, obviously, but at least normal looking. “I’m a…,” he struggled for the words. “Renee I’m apologize. I thought for a second that you were…” he words trailed off as realized he imagined the whole thing. “The wine must a little hard tonight.”

Renee stood in front, unimpressed. “So we’re kissing, and then you suddenly throw me off like I got the plague.” She wasn’t used to being turned away. “What gives?”

Nick didn’t have a clue. “Can I just use your bathroom for a minute?”

Her demeanor changed to one of concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” But he wasn’t.

“It’s over there.”

Nick closed the door behind him. He stood inside the familiar bathroom. Get yourself together. Cool water splashed across his face. Surely the opportunity for sex was finished. Probably his only chance with Renee was blown. The soft towel soaked the wetness from his face. That’s when he noticed the hole in the wall.

The hole from his bathroom was larger on this side. There was no way Renee could’ve missed it. Damn he was stupid. Why did he peep in on her? He wasn’t a horny teenager prowling the neighborhood for a shot of tit. He was twenty-five and should be able to keep his urges under control.

A knock came at the door as it simultaneously pushed open. Renee stood in front of him. Naked. She was luscious. Her red hair fell across both sides of her shoulders stopping just short of her perky breast. Her elongated nipples pointed with stimulation. Milky white skin covered her from head to toe only to be contrasted with her dark red pubic. He was captivated by the image of beauty.

“I know you’ve been watching me.” The recognizable smile that melted him grew on her face.

He tried to deny the accusation. “No.” His voice was crackled.

“It’s alright. I enjoy being watched. A bit of kink spices up the day. Let’s call it innocent fun.”

Nick was speechless and frozen in his tracks.

She moved closer until they were inches apart. The moment lingered with passion. Their lips pressed again. She grabbed one of his hands and placed it on her left breast.

He squeezed. The other one was guided to her vagina. His fingers rubbed against the outer walls and journeyed inside.

She moaned in ecstasy with the in and out motion. Her hands clasped around his cheeks. The innocent smile changed to an evil smirk. The passion replaced by complete emptiness. She softly whispered in his ear. “And now, I’m hungry.”

The comment caught Nick off guard. “What?” He pulled away in time to witness the transformation.

Her eyes turn deep yellow. Each tooth grew long and jagged. The teeth pushed out of her widening mouth.

Nick knew this was not another illusion. This was the end.

The creature began to inhale, getting closer to Nick’s mouth. His body convulsed violently as his soul left.

The naked eye couldn’t see a thing. The creature saw the human’s soul. A light blue smoke waved in the air. The creature fed on the soul, sucking it down slowly. The lifeless body went limp. The creature effortlessly tossed the body in the bathtub.

The creature turned back into the beautiful human form. Renee stripped the body down and tossed the clothes aside. She picked up the body. On the wall was a hook. It pierced the corpse’s back, allowing the body to dangle. A five gallon bucket was placed underneath. The long nail on her pinky finger sliced his throat. Blood poured out and streamed across the flesh dumping into the bucket.

A voice called from behind. “Is it finished?”

Renee turned around to see the old landlady Ruth standing in the doorway. She wore a rubber apron over her clothes. Her teeth were jagged. “He’s almost drained, Ruth. Are the bottles ready?”

Ruth chuckled, “Of course my dear. Blood is always better when it’s bottled warm.”

“Good. I’ll do bottle and you cut the meat.”

Pointing to the hole in the wall Ruth said, “We’ll have to fix the hole in the morning.”

“Might as well.” Renee grabbed the bucket of blood from the tub. “Then we wait a few months and start it all over again.”

“Of course, my dear. We always do.” Ruthie moved out of the way so Renee could get through. She dipped her finger in the warm blood and sampled. “Yummy.” She pulls out a large, sharp butcher’s cleaver. “Will he taste good, Renee?”

The question was odd. These creatures had known each others for centuries. They depended on each other for survival. Sure Ruth was getting near her end time, but Renee didn’t think the old timer was senile yet.

She shook her head in puzzlement. “Ruthie, darling, you know I don’t eat meat.”

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

Marks

2009-05-13T10:01:00.033-04:00

An unbearable pain shot through his shoulder. The pain felt like a knife pierced the skin and twisted into the muscles. Ryan abruptly awoke from his slumber.

What the fuck is going on here, he thought. His hand clinched at the left shoulder. A sharp, tingling sensation methodically crept down his arm until the fingertips dance dwith the same electricity. He hopped out of bed, scared. His mind raced at a thousand miles per hour. Barely audible phrases exited his. No one was there to listen. Am I having a stroke? Does that even happen to people my age? Oh shit, I’m having a fucking heart attack! Great. My heart fails at thirty. Aspirin. They say aspirin can delay a heart attack. Right?

His upper torso scraped the narrow hallway as he managed down the path into the cozy confines of the bathroom. The switch flicked on and a blinding light encroached on the darkness. His pupils adjusted as he felt around for the cabinet door. Fumbling, he located the bottle and popped two pills with a water chaser. His heart pounded hard and fast as if it would shoot out of his chest at any second. He worried more.

Cool water splashed on warm face. The icy burn sensation started in the right arm, and then moved leisurely from his biceps down to the fingers. Ryan stared in the mirror paralyzed with fear. He didn’t know what he should do. Death seemed to be knocking at his doorstep. The hospital had to be the next move.

Maybe it’s because of the panic. Maybe it’s the lack of real focus during this crisis. But one detail was overlooked while he gazed into the mirror. The two puffy, red slashes grooved a deep X shape into the skin on his lower left shoulder, near the chest area. The exact spot where the pain began, it went undetected.

Ryan commanded himself to get dressed. He slowly slipped on a pair of jeans when a numbing sensation started on his left thigh. Nervousness rapidly mounted by the seconds. By the time the shirt was covering his skin; all four appendages were tingling with the same icy burn. With immense concentration he focused at a spot on the wall and inhaled several deep, slow breathes all in order to avoid a panic attack.

I should call an ambulance, he thought. With the phone in hand, he dialed and then hung up. Wait. I’m only a few minutes away. Why incur the extra cost. No need to call an ambulance. Ryan slowly made it to his Chevy S-10. He motored off into the night.

Twenty long minutes later, he stumbled into the Emergency Room at Morganview Hospital. The registration nurse listened to his symptoms. Soon the staff rushed him into a room for a further examination. Four hours and several tests later, Ryan laid on a bed. Still no answers found. Arms and legs were still tingling. His brain caught up in worry mode, as he reflected on life.

A young man who looked more like a California surfer than a physician returned to the room. Dr. Skant spoke, “I assure you, it was not heart attack. And it is a very rare thing for someone your age to have a stroke. It just doesn’t happen often. We’ve ruled those possibilities out.” As the doctor flung the bleach blonde locks away from his eyes, he smiled a comforting glance. A flash of that smile would normally melt the ladies with comfort. From the blank stare on the patients face tonight, it had zero effect.

The doctor proceeded, “I can’t find anything wrong. You appear to have a strong heart. There’s nothing out of the ordinary in the other routine tests. Honestly, I’m at loss.”

The answer didn’t satisfy Ryan. “Then what is it? A person’s entire body doesn’t go numb without a reason. Correct?”

“I suggest doing a follow up in the morning with your regular physician. Explain what happened. He’ll probably order a blood test to figure out what exactly you’re dealing with. But as far tonight, I have to release you. There is no basis to keep you here any longer. Your immediate health is not in jeopardy. You are free to go.”

“Great. You’ve been a big help.” The sarcasm in Ryan’s voice wiped the smile from the doctor’s face. Ryan slipped his shirt over his now unmarked skin. “Thanks.”

Worry and confusion continued on the drive home. He wanted to know what is wrong. What does that damn idiot doctor know? Probably still an intern, he thought.

He barely managed to make his way back into the apartment. He collapsed on the couch, fully exhausted. The tingles remained, but actually seemed to be dissipating in the feet and legs. Outside the birds started chirping as the sun cracked the horizon. Soon he’d call into work, then to Maggie, and then to Dr. Rocke. His eyes drifted shut. He wavers between the state of consciousness and sleep.

The dreams started that morning. The horrifying type when the surroundings are incorporated with the madness of the brain.

The dream only seemed to last a moment, but it bolted Ryan from the couch. Beads of sweat covered his forehead. The main details were fuzzy. Only brief flashes of imagery lingered. Flesh. Blood. The uncomfortable bulge in his pants which begged for release gave him a hint to the nature. An eerie feeling suddenly came over him. Certain he was being watched, Ryan scanned the room. Empty. Get it together, he thought.

It was time to put this long morning into action. The smell from the coffee indicated a strong brew. It’s what he needed to keep from falling asleep. It was almost 6am. He called work. He didn’t feel like going in anyways, just like most other days. The job at a shitty local radio station paid the bills. It was going to be a stop between college and some place better. Six years later he waited for the fictional, superior place to appear.

The station was called WNOZ Underground Radio, due to the fact that mainstream tunes were seldom heard on the dial. The station played a little of everything. It was entirely up to the DJ. The diversity in the music made Ryan happy; as did the fact the owner had the balls to be different. In fact, the main gripe was one he shared with most workers- under paid and under valued. He wasn’t an on air talent, nor did he want to be. Ryan worked behind the scene making sure the programs went on air correctly. He put together promos, edited sound bites, and other technical things. He produced segments. But none of those tasks were going to occur today.

It was too early to call Maggie. He gulped down more coffee and thought about the sweet girl, who for some unknown reason fell in love with him. Ryan was fairly certain he reciprocated the feeling for her. His eyes closed and the replay began. A movie of the first day the two met over two years ago.

Ryan and a couple of his buddies, Dan and Kent, waited to enter the dance club. He held a deep resentment towards the club scene. He found them to be over crowded, too loud, and pricey. Plus the bouncer at the door had an ego. All the guys checking ID’s had a god complex. This dude gave him shit about not wearing a buttoned shirt and kakis like every other guy in the line. “You wanna dress like a slob then go to a low class joint,” the muscle head said. Ryan knew his sense of self would never be tarnished if he couldn’t get in a lousy bar wearing jeans and a tee shirt. The power trip at the door took the cover charge and let them all inside.

The only reason Ryan to visit these establishments. Women. Lovely ladies scantily dressed. They always showed flesh as they grooved on the dance floor. The scenery was easy on the eyes. Though he gave off an “I don’t give a shit” attitude with his dress and demeanor, he still displayed an average face and a squishy body and an inept ability to lead conversations. A crucial skill when one attempted to meet strangers.

Time had passed and alcohol flowed through the bloodstream. Ryan watched his buddies as they started the standard chase. They urged Ryan to join them in the hunt. As usual, he declined. The two made their way to the dance floor where the prey was more accessible. The distorted bass pumped piercingly throughout the building. Ryan pushed his way towards the bar. He needed more drinks to tolerate these surroundings.

After being passed over at least ten times for women with cleavage hanging out, Ryan was frustrated. Another girl squeezed her way beside him to the front of the line. This one caught his eye. She was a natural beauty that didn’t need to cake on tons of make up to hide imperfections. It made her even more stunning. She was a girl with real curves in her body instead of the straight waif look supermodels get from years of bulimia. The beauty glanced in his direction and smiled. It brightened the entire room. The gesture almost made the whole trip worth coming. Now if he could only work up the courage to speak. Engage in simple conversation. Nerves stirred in his stomach.

The hunky bartender came over and passed him up again, this time for the beauty. She ordered a couple of daiquiris. The drinks were made. The money exchanged hands. The bartender moved over to another girl. Ryan raged at the drink slinger. No tip was in the idiot’s near future.

The girl turned around. Before she actually had her grip on the glasses, the crowd pushed her forward. The thick, icy concoction tumbled out from one glass and sprayed through the air in slow motion. Ryan had zero time to react and watched the action unfold. The cute, but clumsy girl tried to yell out a warning. Her timing was late. The people around Ryan were lucky. The majority of contents emptied out directly onto his crotch. The rest lay in a puddle. The lady gasped and franticly searched for a rag. The bartender tossed one to her and shouted “Mop up!”

“Oh, I am so sorry,” she said. A tone of obvious embarrassment resonated in her voice. Her cheeks were flush. She knelt down and rubbed on the red stained jeans.

Ryan could no longer keep the anger inside. He didn’t want to be in this club. He couldn’t get a drink. And now he had wore a drink as an accessory. He snapped. “Great! First you squeeze in line and get a drink right away while I’ve been patiently standing here for the last fifteen minutes getting avoided by this fucking bartender. Then you dump your foo-foo drink all over me, which not only is very cold, but makes it look like I’ve pissed blood. Thanks for a capper on a wonderful night.” Ryan watched as she diligently scrubbed on.

Snickers filled the air. The crowd around them grew more restless.

The coldness drifted away as the girl kept rubbing and patting at the stain. Ryan began to get aroused. The motion stopped and the girl innocently giggled. She noticed the slight bulge. She stood up. The corners of her mouth curled up. She leaned close to him. “I just realized I was rubbing at the crotch of a complete stranger. I’m going to have to stop now…obvious reasons.” And she playfully winked.

Is she flirting with me now? No. She just feels bad and wants to smooth it over. The anger left as the embarrassment shifted sides. He calmly said, “Probably a good idea.” His coarse exterior started to soften.

“Listen, I really am sorry. I got bumped and it slipped out of my hands,” the girl said smiling. “Honest mistake.”

That smile was a golden ray of light in dimly lit world. He wondered how many times she got her way by flashing it. It was going to happen in this situation. “You know what? Forget it.”

“At least let me buy you a drink”, she demanded.

“That’s alright. I’m going to get out here. Truth is I hate these places. I only came because a couple friends asked me. Plus the whole pants issue. Not good.”

She smirked as if hiding a secret. “You’re truth is similar to mine. Friends drug me out too. And I kind of like the pants. Gives them character.”

Ryan heard some guy standing in line make a comment. “Get a drink or go away.” He couldn’t blame the guy. The way these bartenders were, he’d wait another fifteen before actually placing a drink order. Then someone arrived with a bucket to clean up the glass and spilled drinks. He didn’t look happy.

“Looks like natives are getting restless. I’m getting you a drink and you’re not going to refuse. That’s final,” she said.

Ryan didn’t dare turn down the offer the second time. “Guinness.”

She ordered two. After another exchange of cash, Ryan grabbed the mugs of foaming dark goodness. The girl successfully held on to the remaining daiquiri. They swiftly walked away from the pack.

“My name is Maggie.”

“Ryan.”

Still holding onto the drinks, she said, “Well, follow me Ryan. I’ve got to drop this off first.”

He did as instructed. They found a spot that wasn’t quite as noisy and talked. They ditched their friends at the bar to get a late night meal and talked more. They watched the sunrise on the porch of the house she and friends rented and talked even more. It was an experience unlike any Ryan had ever had with a woman. He found conversation with her easy. A day hadn’t passed since that they didn’t talk to each other. In a few weeks when her lease was up, Maggie would be moving into his apartment. Their future together seemed very promising.

Suddenly the thoughts in Ryan’s head swirled together. Out of blackness a pair of hands clinched around a throat. Tighter and tighter they constricted.

He recognized the mole just underneath the left ear. The familiar hands squeezed and pinched down as the air withdrew from the body. He realized the hands belong to him. Slowly the victim’s face came into view as it turned a pale purple color. Maggie. Her eyeballs bulged from their sockets.

Maggie mouthed the soundless words “I love you Ryan, always”. The hands clinched with even more force.

Abruptly Ryan awoke. Sweat poured from his scalp. His hands trembled. He gasped to catch a breath. A sour stench oozed from his stomach. Such a vividly violent dream had never occurred before. He blamed the dream on lack of sleep and locked the vision away.

He called Maggie and told her the details. “I’m going to the doctor’s and then come home and sleep. There’s no need for you to be here today.”

She said, “But I’m worried, Ryan. What if something serious is wrong?” Fear filled her voice.

“It’ll be fine. Just come by after you get off work.” He knew she was way too independent to listen. She had always done exactly what she wanted to do.

“Let me know what the doctor tells you.”

Ryan cherished the fact someone cared about his well being. “You know I will. Love you.”

“Back at ya,” Maggie said. The phone went silent.

The tingles remained. They felt like sparks of electricity surging through his body. Except now, the tingles almost felt natural. Like they belong.

** ** **

Ryan got right in to see his long time family doctor. He sat in an examination room waiting. Normal tests were taken. Nothing unusual was found. The old doctor, on the verge of retirement, entered back in the room.

“Well young man, I can’t find a thing wrong with you. There’s nothing unusual in the tests from last night and nothing now. Other than blood pressure being a tad high. We may find out differently when the blood test comes back,” Doctor Rocke said.

He thought, Great. More silly tests with no results. This whole process frustrating the shit out outta me. And then there’s the cost. Insurance isn’t going to cover much. I just want to know what’s wrong. Then we can fix it.

Dr. Rocke asked, “You still got these tingles?”

“There gone in my feet and legs, but I can still feel it in my arms,” Ryan said.

“The one logical conclusion is a pinched nerve.”

“But I haven’t lifted anything out of the ordinary lately.”

“A person can pinch a nerve tossing around in their sleep or if they move awkwardly. They don’t necessarily have to lift heavy objects.”

“What can I do?”

“If the tingles don’t go away by Saturday, come back in. We’ll go from there. And if I see a flag in your blood results, I’ll call you. But those won’t come back until next week.” The doctor gave his patented look of assurance. “Now get the hell out of here and get some sleep. You look terrible. And take a day or two off to rest up.” He scribbled down some items on his pad and handed the sheet to Ryan.

“Thanks Doc.” Ryan left the office and headed home. On the way he called Maggie to help set her mind at ease. Then he called the radio station again. He informed his boss of the situation and that he would be not come in tomorrow either.

He walked inside apartment #331 and went straight to the bedroom. Fatigue was winning the battle. He stripped and collapsed into bed. Ryan’s eyes shut before his body hit the mattress. Sleep followed only moments later.

During this time Ryan’s body started to change once again. The X on his shoulder area returned to the same form as the night before. A smaller X pulsated through the skin and formed on his right calf. It looked identical to the one on his shoulder. Across his back several other marks tried to break onto the surface. They appeared; then disappeared into his skin.

He slept long and uninterrupted. Crust cracked on the corner of his eyes. Ryan rubbed it away. He opened them to see a curly, brunette haired girl. She kissed him.

“Hey morning breath,” Maggie said and pecks his lips again.

“I didn’t think morning breath was possible this late in the afternoon.” This girl was everything he ever could want in a partner. “How long have you been here?”

“About an hour.”

“And you’ve been watching me sleep the whole time? How boring.”

“Tell me about it.”

Ryan gazed in her eyes. This lady was a special one. They kissed again; only longer and deeper. From the silence, his stomach growled loudly.

Maggie giggled. “You must be starving.”

“Well I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Get up. I’ll cook tonight.”

“Maybe I’ll go back sleep then,” he said and pulled the pillow over his head. A playful slap came down across his chest.

“Get up, jerk.”

“Yes, my dear.”

The sleep did him wonders. The tingles have almost left his body completely. Maybe by morning the feeling would be gone.

He got up from bed and moved towards the bathroom. His penis throbbed half erect. Ryan caught Maggie glancing at his nakedness in the mirror. Why she found his average body, complete with a slight gut, a little sexy he would never know. But it made him happy.

Something strange also caught his eye in the reflection. A mark. He thought, What is this? He touched the scratch. Pain was expected, but there was none. Bewildered by the “X”, he put it to the back of his mind and waved it off as nothing.

Maggie slide her naked body behind Ryan. The shower barely had enough room for the both of them. She wrapped her arms around him. Her bouncy breasts pressed against his backside as the water cascaded over their skin. She pampered his back with kisses. As the water rinsesd the soapsuds away, a large groove became noticeable. She stopped.

“Where’d you get the mark on your back?”

“There’s one on my back?”

“Yep. It’s like a big X in the middle of your spine,” she said. The mark wasn’t like anything she’d seen before.

“Not sure.” Ryan turned around and pointed to his shoulder. “I found this one too.”

Maggie studied the mark. She wanted to find out its origin. As her fingertips ran over the mark. A sudden jolt of sexual arousal floated up from deep inside her. She asked, “Does it hurt?”

“Not at all.”

Catching her guard, Ryan clamped his hands around Maggie’s curvy hips and he pulled her close. She wanted him. Her soft lips pressed against the “X”. Her tongue gently licked the wound. She needed him. Now.

They fondled each other; his hands rolled over nipples and her hands stroked his cock. Moments later, her juices flowed. “Take me,” Maggie whispered in Ryan’s ear. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he slipped inside her. Her back slammed against the shower tile. Each thrust more powerful than the previous. She wanted more. The steamy water continued to rain down. Maggie moaned with pleasure as Ryan climaxes.

The couple lay in bed entwined in each other’s arms. Sex this late in the night always made her tired. The intensity and the rare forcefulness of the act exhausted her. Her mind drifted. She trusted the doctor and was under the assumption Ryan would be fine after the pinched nerve healed.

Ryan remained restless. The icy burn had run its course, but another feeling caused him grave concern. Sex with Maggie tonight felt like an out of body experience. He was a spectator watching his body going through the motions. Another presence seemed to take over the inside of him, filling his mind with a feeling of rage and pure hatred. Never in his twenty-nine years have these sinister traits been displayed. They were not his. And his ejaculation caused an alarm. He never actually came, despite feeling of being more alive than ever while nearing climax. Instead there was a fiery sensation in his penis. He swore it was sucking in spurts and not shooting out liquid. What he could recall of the whole interaction did not make any sense. The situation terrified him.

He stared at ceiling until darkness arrived.

Maggie woke up in the morning to find Ryan with an insatiable appetite for sex once again. He kissed her inner thighs and practically begged her. Amused by his charmed, she was easily persuaded into another round easily.

The situation surprised her. Sex first thing in the morning wasn’t her thing. Being a morning person was not her deal. She puts her hand around his erection. It appeared larger than normal. Ryan had his signal. He entered, barely waiting for her juices to flow. Her pleas to slow down fell on deft ears. The hard thrusts penetrated deeper inside than ever before. Last night this style was fine, but not twice in a row. It was uncomfortable and painful. This wasn’t like Ryan’s technique at all.

During the interaction, the man she loved wasn’t to be the same man on top of her. The caring and gentleness in his touch had disappeared and replaced by animalistic tendencies. Pleasure never approached. A tear crept from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek as she reluctantly allowed him to finish.

Ryan grunted inhuman noises as he climaxed inside her. Weakness spread over Maggie’s whole body. She felt as if energy was being siphoned out of her and blanked out for a moment. When her eyes opened, she saw Ryan on the edge of the bed hunched over in a meditative slate. Carefully, she moved in for a closer look at him.

Sweat pooled on his skin. Ryan emerged to reality, panting and feverishly hot. The memory of what just occurred was fuzzy. The same feeling as the night before arrived, only more intense. He can’t remember what instigated the action. He noticed the redness around Maggie’s eyes. He asked, “Are you…crying? What’s wrong?”

An expression of bewilderment surfaced on her face. “How can you say that?”

He moved towards her trying to piece it all together. “I…I don’t…” As he reached to comfort his girlfriend, his manner instantly changed. He coldly said, “You’re going to be late for work.”

Maggie pushed his hands away and scurried off to the bathroom. The door slammed shut. Where did that come from? That’s not what I was thinking. He suddenly remembered. “Oh shit,” he mumbled.

The reflection stared back at her in the mirror. What just happened in there, she thought. Tears were fought off. Ryan didn’t know it yet, but she had already asked for the day off. Someone else would have to answer phones at the firm. Maggie intended on spending the day nursing him back to health. Her maternal instincts were kicking into high gear. They’d talked about this incident later. She needed to be strong for them both.

Truth was she wanted to be living here already. Ryan offered two months ago, but she couldn’t afford to break the lease on the expensive house rental. Besides, her two roommates couldn’t handle the extra cost. Only another forty-six days and his apartment would turn into their place. It would be the next major step in their relationship. Eventually they would be engaged. They talked about it before but Ryan wouldn’t ask her to marry until she got her financial situation in order and learned to control her spending. The basic ultimatum pissed her off. Mainly because she understood where he was coming from and actually agreed with him. Until then a marriage remained on the horizon. Still she dreamed of them growing old together in big house with their kids.

A knock on the door snapped her back from the daydream. Ryan’s voice traveled through the wood.

“Are you alright in there?”

She didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry, Maggie. Listen, that was kind of – I’m not sure what got into – I didn’t mean to get so rough.”

Maggie gathered her composure and opened the door. “That was not fun for me. You felt so callous. So different. It scared me.”

“It scared me too. I don’t know what came over me. I’d never hurt you.”

“I’m not letting you off the hook. But let’s not have a repeat performance any time soon.”

“I promise.” Ryan kissed her. “I love you.”

“Love you too. And already I took the day off.”

“Why?”

She refused to believe the question. It pissed her off. “To be with you. I didn’t know what kind of condition you’d be in. Thought you might want some help.”

Ryan pulled off the condom and tossed it in the small trash can next to the toilet. “I’m feeling good actually. The tingles are gone.” He looked at her while pumping his fists. “I’m glad you’re here though.” He kissed her forehead to reinforcement the statement and headed back to the bedroom.

Maggie didn’t fully believe him, but forced a smile. She spotted another claw like “X” on the section of Ryan’s thigh where the ass meets the legs. She pointed it out, “There’s another one of those marks.”

“Where?” He turned to the full length mirror trying to find it.

“Hold still.” Maggie began to scout his entire body for the marks. The total equaled four: the huge one on his shoulder area, one on his back, one on his butt, and the one on his calf that neither detected before. “What in the hell are these, Ryan?”

“I have no clue.”

“They look like scratches only wider and deeper. And they look infected.” Each time her fingers touched a mark a burst of excitement surged through her. “This worries me. Did you show these to the doctor?”

“Those marks weren’t there when I went.”

“Let me pour some peroxide on them.

The marks scared Ryan. He refused to acknowledge this fact, despite of all the strange occurrences in the last twenty-four hours. “Just scratches, nothing to get worked up about. They probably will disappear in a few days.”

*** *** ***

Hours of silence passed. Ryan sat in a chair while Maggie had nothing better to do than normal, mundane household chores that she kindly offered to perform, under these circumstances. She attempted to keep her mind active.

Finally she could stand the stillness any longer. “You’ve been awful quiet today,” Maggie said trying to bring the room to life. But Ryan gave no response in return. He just stared at the out the window.

A faint, musky, sulfuric odor protruded from his body. She recalled the same smell this morning. Again she tried to communicate. “You’re breathing awful deeply. Feel alright, honey?” Still Ryan remained in daze with his belly inflating and deflating with air. He had been this way since after breakfast. He plopped down in a chair and focused on the window.

Maggie knew he wasn’t well, but what could she do, except call his doctor. Her mind raced with different scenarios. All cumulated to horrible conclusions. I’ve got to stay busy, she thought. The day wasn’t supposed to progress this way.

“All you’ve done the entire day is set here. If you’re not going to talk to me, then I’m leaving.” She grabbed her purse and hoped Ryan would come out his trance and call the bluff. The doorknob turned.

Ryan snapped back to life. “Wait,” he screamed. In a frantic, disoriented fashion he jumped out the chair. “Maggie!”

She reversed directions immediately hurrying over to him. His head shifted to spots all over the room while. Incoherencies mumbled from his mouth. He heard her voice.

“I’m right here. What’s a matter? Talk to me, dammit!”

He put his arms around her. Darkness surrounded his mind. The only bright spot he can make out was Maggie. He clutched firmly not wanting to release. She was his safety net.

“You’re squeezing too tight,” Maggie said. “Let me loose.”

The arms unlock and slowly to free her. His senses came back. “What time is it?”

“Around three.”

“That can’t be right.” His eyes rapidly scanned the room trying to remember where a clock was placed. Reading 3:03 on the cable box, he looked at Maggie with fear behind his hazel eyes.

“What did we do today?” He needed answers.

“Don’t you remember?”

All Ryan could recall was blackness.

“We didn’t do anything. You’ve been in that chair all day long.”

“I must have fallen asleep.”

“With your eyes open?”

Instantly a complete turn around occurred. Ryan lost control of his actions. An unknown force was battling for command of his mind.

“Creepy, but the only logical explanation.” There was harsh precision in his movement as he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You smell good enough to eat.” As Maggie pulled away he said, “I’m just joking. Thanks again for sticking around today. Didn’t think I needed more sleep. Guess I was wrong. Blame the healing process.”

Maggie noticed the immediate difference in his personality. His true emotions were camouflaged. His pigment was slightly altered. This is far from normal, she thought. “That’s alright Ryan,” she said. “You’d do it for me.” She watched his eyes turn pitch black with a coldness replacing the warmth.

With a dastardly smile upon his face he replied, “Yes I would.”

Whatever was wrong with Ryan, she recognized the symptoms to be more severe than a pinched nerve. Never too religious of a girl, she had seen enough programs and read enough books not to think about possession. She wondered if a visit to a local church would be met with laughter. She must find a way to get out of the apartment and get Ryan help.

A being grew inside Ryan, getting stronger with every sexual exploit. It took possession of the host slowly while feeding off the energy of others. The being repressed the human part of this host. The unidentifiable transformation nearly completed. The Ryan-thing felt better than ever. All of its senses seemed to be cranked up a notch.

They sat on the couch and watched a movie. Maggie preoccupied with coming up with an excuse to leave.

A smell of cucumber melon lotion couldn’t cover the lady’s true scent. And her smooth touches once again stirred up an appetite, but not for food. It was going to take her. Soon. Survival depended on it. The Ryan-thing detested waiting. He grabbed Maggie and pulled her on top of him. He kissed her lips and slide the elongated tongue inside her mouth.

Maggie jerked back, “Not now. I am not in the mood.”

He pampered her neck with soft kisses, and then traveled to her ear. “Come on baby.”

The hot breathe in her ear annoyed her. The putrid smell of sulfur returned to the air. Fright crept into Maggie as the situation suddenly felt dangerous. This person was definitely not Ryan. She must leave now. “I don’t want to have sex right now Ryan,” she said and stood up. “In fact, I need to run home for a minute. Get a change of clothes. I’ll be back in a bit.”

The being latched on to her arm. “What you want girl, is no concern,” the Ryan-thing said. It was going to obtain what it desired and she had no choice in the matter.

Deep in the host’s mind, the real Ryan remained. I’m going to end you, Ryan thought. Several attempts to overcome the circumstances and regain control ended with failure. No matter how hard he focused or how determined he was to beat this beast, the effort was futile. Still he did not quit the struggle.

The creature dragged her from the couch onto the floor. It pinned Maggie down and began to sniff her body. The scent excited it more. She squirmed, fighting the act as best she could. It licked the crevice of flesh leading to her breasts. The exhilaration rose as it prepared for the taking.

Maggie’s eyes filled with tears. She realized this person with Ryan’s face was going to rape her. She fought as the shirt ripped from her body. “Ryan please. Don’t,” she begged. “I know you’re in there, baby. You can stop this!” There was no retort to her plea as the thing pinned her down. The white, cotton panties get torn away. A fist slammed against her cheek, knocking her loopy.

When her head cleared, the Ryan creature stood over her, naked and at full arousal. His penis is almost twice the normal size. Thousand of X’s were now covering his body like scales. He pounced on top of her. Maggie no longer resisted the inevitable and prayed no more physical harm will come to her. She waited for the ordeal to pass concentrating on plans for escaping this nightmare. She squealed with pain as the warmth entered her and thrusted with great ferocity. Every other part of Ryan’s body felt cold against her skin. I made a mistake. This was the wrong idea, she thought. Seconds into the act, Maggie blacked out as her energy level dropped.

The Ryan-thing continues feeding until its satisfaction was complete.

*** *** ***

The creature didn’t know its origin or species, only that it was a powerful entity. Survival was its only instinct, which it has done for longer than time itself. It couldn’t be seen by the human eye; therefore humans were the main feeding source. They were much better than other animals. It choose a person at random and possessed their body undetected. The creature slowly fused with the host until it took completely over, changing their thoughts and manipulating the body in the process.

If the host was a man, it used the dangling thing called a penis to suck the life force out of a female. It enjoyed using the males because it can make the entire process more violent. The creature thrived on violence and chaos.

Using a woman as a host is easier because of their vaginas. It learned to understand that just about any man can be manipulated to stick his penis in that place, the ultimate weapon to suck out the life force. As a female the process was more intense and painful. The creature doesn’t enjoy pain onto itself, only against others.

When it got bored with a host, the creature left the person to die in a pile of rotting flesh, similar to its life force victims. Then the creature searched for a new host to renew the process.

Over the years it had adapted to the surrounding environment, not knowing why humans perform in certain ways just mimicking their actions. It learned from keeping the memories and knowledge of every host it took over. Centuries of memories were stored, many forgotten.

Now the human called Ryan was the host.

*** *** ***

The being finished with the girl, but didn’t deplete her energy all the way. It enjoyed the conquest too much to drain her entirely out. Besides, the initial changing process took two to six feedings. It depended on how strong the life force was inside each individual. This Maggie had one more feeding left in her, after she rested.

Ultimately Ryan’s spirit was crushed. He continued to fight every decision. Not for his sake, because he realized the fate which awaited him, but for Maggie. But the intruder was too strong and over powered his rule.

The being grasped the girl by her hair and yanked the naked body to the bedroom. The creature tied her arms and legs to the bed frame with sheets. Since the creature needed no sleep, it watched the human.

A scream ruptured the silence.

“You still have life. Excellent,” the being said.

Maggie quivered as her cheek glowed red and started to swell. “You may look like Ryan, but you’re not him.” Ryan’s face never looked so menacing. Realizing she was going to depart this life, she tried to stall her fate.

“You’re right about that my sweet.” The creature stood up. It was naked and a perfect resemblance of Ryan, not an X mark in view. “I must admit, you’re energy is the best I’ve fed from in quite a long time.”

Struggling to get free only made the sheets tighter around her wrists. “Ryan, fight this thing! Whatever it is!” She was tired of being the victim. She had to battle this thing to end. “Fight it for us. For our love.”

The creature laughed. “Love. I have no concept of human love, nor do I care to. It is a weakness and a worthless emotion you own.” The creature started wheezing deeply in a rhythm motion.

Maggie cried out, “Ryan!”

Its breathing became louder as thousand of X’s scales reappeared all over the skin. The black eyes turned a purplish glow. The cock grew to an immense promotion as it stiffened. The creature moved towards her. Drool formed on the corner of its mouth. Long, clawlike fingers ran over her legs.

She screamed again, but knew the effort was useless. Once that thing violated her, her existence would conclude. Tears streamed down her face and a million thoughts rapidly fired in her mind. Maggie calmly looked into the creature’s eyes and said, “Ryan, I know that you can hear me. This is not your fault. I love you, Ryan. Always.”

Ryan’s heart broke at that moment. There was nothing he could do to help Maggie. The love of his life would die and he, in a sense, was already dead. In the end all he could do was watch the actions unfold. His body was fully controlled by a renegade presence.

The beast hovered over her. The death tool probed its way inside her vaginal walls. Piercing the hole and tearing away, the beast continued the mission. The smell of burnt flesh permeated in the room.

Maggie blocked out the situation long before the penetration initiated. Animalistic grunts and groans were the last thing Maggie heard before blackness came. Her body shook before collapsing into a wrinkled pile of bones, organs, and skin.

The entity howled out with pleasure. The transformation was complete. The creature collapsed, letting the final metamorphosis take place though the night.

The thing awoke in the morning, refreshed with a new vigor. This man proved to be an outstanding host. The creature transformed back to full human form. It can remain hidden in society.

The Ryan-thing walked outside to meet the sunlight with the impulse for survival. It whiffed at the air and grinned. There was a pleasurable musty aroma coming from down the street. It wondered if the next giver will be as great as Maggie. The creature doubted if this would be true, but it had a special gift regardless. The thing hanging between the creature’s legs, the organ that used to be the maker of human life was now the organ that sucks life away from humans. Soon, it would be time for another feeding. Soon, it would be time for another hunt to begin.

THE END

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to http://www.seankimmel.com/

Rant from the Unknown

2009-01-09T18:37:00.002-05:00

Conform to the masses

and

FUCK INDIVIDUALITY

Do what they say!
Do what they want!
Bow down to authority
Rules must be abided by

Laws for you protection

Not to be bent or broken

Or else ramification occurs

One nation under a false of god of hope.
Forcing the beliefs on a world who doesn’t ask for help.

Rid society of the moral laws and turn your back on the poor
Forget unsavory characters, the world is better off with out them

“Brought it on yourself” syndrome
Assholes mutter under breathe
People with power going to their heads
Inmates running the asylum
Top dog is the dollar bill
Norms strive for the fifteen minutes

Originality few and far between

MOVIES: ideas taken from predecessors

MUSIC: sounds all the same

BOOKS: stories rehashed

ART: style gone

Houses all look the same
Lawns all the same height
Vehicles all similar styles
One step away from total likeness
All of us dressing alike
THINKING ALIKE

Stop the trend of turning everyone into clones

Then I realize that I’m the problem too.

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to www.seankimmel.com

Breakout

2008-12-02T20:46:00.008-05:00

The pity on my sleeve
Is more than meets the eye
Breakdown to my knees
Taste the tears I cry

Cannot try to escape
Must learn how to fall
The prison I have made
Built with my own walls

Keep sheltered where I’m comfortable
And don’t deal with the pain
The struggle between head and heart
Nothing to lose and all to gain

     The breakout will never come until I accept the change
          The breakout will never come unless I try to change

               The breakout will never come until I accept the change
                    The breakout will never come unless I try to change

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to www.seankimmel.com

Riddles of Selfish Love

2008-11-04T20:50:00.007-05:00

How much brighter are your days when there is another to make the days brighter?

Why can’t you make someone possess the same feelings towards you as the feelings you possess towards them?

Is it possible to feel too deeply about another when you know that person is the one you want to deeply feel for?

When should you stop loving that person that doesn’t return the same love to you, even though all you say and all you do is in direct correlation to the love that does not want to return the same love back to you?

How hard do you fall in love for someone when there is that special someone worth falling in love for?

How much time is spent thinking about them when all you do is think about them with your time?

When gone is the hurting one gives you, is the hurting they gave truly gone?

by Sean Kimmel

For more go to www.seankimmel.com