Soulless

Suddenly I had a sensation like I could feel the warmth of my blood surging through my veins. I felt as if there were tiny streaks of heat inside my arms and legs, torso and head. It was like she was sucking the life out of me. The heat slowly oozed out of my head, through my neck, out of my arms into torso, from my toes up the legs and it all centered in my cock, which was still throbbing and erupting with the powerful orgasm.

The feeling of exhilaration became discomfort and just as I was about to forcefully sit up and make her stop, lightheadedness overwhelmed me, my dark world swayed then swirled and I lost myself in a wonderful sensation of rapture, aware of nothing and everything. My stomach turned with nausea.

I must have lost consciousness after that, as the next thing I remember was Jeannie leaning over me completely dressed, her face full of concern, yet flirty. I realized I was lying on the bed; my legs were not dangling off it any longer. I was covered with a white sheet up to my neck, Jeannie's long and delicate fingers caressed my cheek.

I turned my head to look out of the window and a brutal pain in side my temples made me cringe and shut my eyes.

"What happened?" I asked, unable to look at anything, even Jeannie, no matter how much I wanted to.

"I think the fatigue that Dick was talking about finally got the better of you." She said in a low, raspy voice, her fingers never leaving my face. "You cummed and then passed out."

"Aw..." I whined like a kid. I felt embarrassed, exactly as I feared I would feel when she first took her clothes off and knelt between my legs.

"Ssshhh..." she said soothingly. "It's okay, I understand."

"I'm so sorry." I said, not quite knowing what I was apologizing for.

"No, no..." her fingers traveled from my cheeks to the temples and softly pressed against them. At first this seemed to have intensified the pain, only to extinguish it a moment later.

I opened my eyes, looked at Jeannie and carefully turned my head towards the window, noticing that it was getting dark. There was no pain. Yet, there was a lot of fear in my heart.

"What did you just do?" I asked incredulously, pulling myself up.

"Aaa..." she smiled and winked. "An old Chinese trick, my dear. Better now?"

I rubbed my forehead, bowed my head, but the pain had not returned. "Yes, I think it is, thank you.

"How long have I been out?"

She stood up and clicked her tongue. "Long enough, Thomas. I think it's time for you to leave now. There will be others coming soon and I have to get ready."

I looked at her with craving, wishing I could stay for a while longer, and she'd lie next to me. Then, I realized that it was my mind that was yearning for lovemaking, not my body. My cock limp and shriveled between my legs gave no indication that it was willing for another round.

When I started climbing out of bed Jeannie left the room, allowing me a private moment. As I looked at the front of my body, I noticed it to be red and rash like. It didn't itch or burn, it just looked like I had fell asleep on the beach and gotten sun burnt. The headache seemed to have left me completely and I was glad about that.

As I descended the stairs I was disappointed to realize that Jeannie was not waiting for me in the corridor or the parlor. I wanted to see her one more time. Not exactly to thank her; I suppose one doesn't do that with whores. But I did want to show her my appreciation. She had taken me to heights that I had never reached before and doubted I would be able to again.

Dick was standing at the door, holding Martha's hand and smiling at her. Always a cheerful man, there seemed to be a certain glow in his face that I had never seen before, despite the never ending grin on his face.

"We're all square now, I reckon?" he asked and Martha leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss on his wrinkled cheek.

"Yes, my dear, we are." They shook hands and the whole scene puzzled me, but I didn't dwell upon it. "Take care now, you hear?" said Martha and turned towards me.

"We'll be seeing you around, young Thomas." She said and I cringed. I couldn't complain over the attention and service I had received from one of her employees, but I would be back when hell freezes over, I thought.

"Well," said Martha, a mischievous sparkle in her pretty dark eyes. "Every once in a while hell does freeze over, my dear." She said very quietly and I couldn't swear that I heard her correctly. I shrugged it all off. I wanted to go back to the farm, check on my grandfather and if it was okay with Dick hit the bed without having to do any more chores. I was pleasantly tired, just like a man is after a good roll in the hay, even though this had not quite turned out to be that.

I awkwardly shook Martha's hand and almost ran to the car. The old, sickly dog was still lying on the porch, by the looks of it having barely moved. Dick drove us home that day, and with the gentle rocking of the car I fell into a sleepless dream.

CHAPTER 2

In the days following I had often thought about Jeannie from the whorehouse. Questions, which I couldn't quite find the answers for began badgering my mind. I even considered talking to Dick about it, but changed my mind. He was not my friend, not even my peer. The gap between us was too wide and I still felt a bit embarrassed of having gone to a place of bad reputation with him, even though many of the questions related exactly to that.

I had also begun noticing a change in Dick. He always liked a shot of whiskey in the evenings after the work was done and sometimes he might chase it with a beer. But lately he began drinking heavily. I would find him half drunk before noon, and in the late afternoons he'd be sitting on the bench under the oak tree passed out.

He began stinking of whiskey and garlic. Never a good dresser, he always appeared in the kitchen wearing clean clothes in the mornings. Now, he would go wearing the same outfit for days. Working in a barn, the smell of dung would cling to him and fill the house where he happened to spend at least a minute or two.

His once raven black hair began streaking with odd gray ones here and there. Each day he seemed to gray more and more, way too fast for any logical explanation. He didn't laugh as much as he used to.

Sometimes, when I turned suddenly to face him, I would catch him staring at me or rather through me, deep in his own thoughts, making me feel very uncomfortable.

In two weeks since our little escapade, he seemed to have aged at least ten years. The skin on his face turned yellowy and there were dark, almost purple bags sagging under his eyes, one of which seemed to water constantly now, and after a while he stopped being bothered with wiping it clean.

I couldn't explain a sudden change in Dick, nor had I tried. Just like Dick's appearance, my grandfather's health seemed to have gone rapidly downhill on a daily basis. Most of the time he would be incoherent, feverish and vividly struggling to hold onto the last straw of life left in him.

The doctor, who came to check on him once a week had told me that his days were numbered and I should prepare myself for the inevitable. I was saddened, but at the same time I wished he had been relieved of his pain already. He was suffering visibly and it hurt me to see him that way.

The horror began about two weeks after my first visit to the whorehouse, although initially I didn't quite comprehend the lengths to which it would stretch itself.

I had been feeling down and very tired for days. I was plagued with inexplicable headaches, which I attributed to the lack of sleep and worries for my grandfather. Having finished all the chores of the day, I bid a goodnight to Dick and turned in early. I tried to put myself to sleep by reading, but I needn't bothered. My mind couldn't focus on the written words, let alone the contents of the book and I believe I was out like a light within minutes.

I can't say what it was exactly that woke me up, but as my mind slowly dragged itself into consciousness, and I opened my eyes, I sensed someone was in the room with me. I was lying on my stomach, hugging the pillow with my arms, my head turned to one side. I tried to lift my head off the pillow, but it seemed like it was made of led. I attempted to roll over, again no luck. Panic rose in my stomach and my heart began beating wildly. Adrenalin surged through my body, but I still failed to budge even for an inch.

The only parts of my body that I was able to move were my eyes. I believed that someone in my room stood at the foot of the bed. My eyes rolled around to catch the intruder in the mirror above me, but it was too far up and I couldn't see anything. I averted the eyes away from the mirror, trying desperately to see the elusive figure. My heart froze as I sensed movement and for one second I believed I could actually see a silhouette in the far corner of the room.

The balcony monster entered my mind and I closed my eyes, mentally chastising my imagination and cowardness. I still couldn't move any part of my body, not even a finger or a toe, but I began believing I was having one of the so-called lucid dreams where one knows one is dreaming.

With my eyes still closed, suddenly my nose was assaulted by a hot and rancid stench so loud that were I able to move, I would have immediately put my hands over my face. I opened my eyes and heard my mind screaming in horror. My throat could not produce a sound; it seemed to remain just as paralyzed as the rest of my body.

Gaunt face with huge, shiny eyes was staring at me; the lips were parted in a snarl and the teeth were huge and square, of grayish discoloration. Each eye looked three times as big as on a normal person, their color was a shade of green I had never seen before. The hair on the creature was spiky short and snow-white. The lips were thin, almost non-existent.

Not blinking its eyes, the creature kept grinning at me, sending waves of chilly terror through my veins. Every once in a while it gasped a rotten breath at me, the stench so foul as I had never smelled in my entire life. Even skunk's spray could not come close to it.

I felt my stomach heaving and I was afraid I would have to throw up, but unable to move, I would probably suffocate myself on my own vomit. I couldn't say anything, couldn't move and didn't dare close my eyes. I had to keep staring at the monster, had to know where it was at any given moment. The creature was kneeling next to my bed. At first I thought it was wearing a high collared black sweater, only to realize that it wasn't clothed, but its skin was charcoaled as if burnt to a crisp.

"Thooo...maaaass..." The lips moved but more like on a puppet than on a real person. Their movements were stiff and awkward. They didn't quite close when speaking and the effect was all the more frightening. The voice was a familiar one, but I refused to acknowledge it. I could have sworn it sounded like Jeannie from the whorehouse, but then I was immobile, probably asleep, how the hell would I know whose voice was coming out of the creature's throat.

A crazy thought of Dick and Jeannie playing a prank on me entered my mind. Dick could have easily slipped something in my evening coffee. Maybe they found this hideous puppet and are now trying to scare the living daylights out of me. The only thing I couldn't explain was the odor, but I wasn't trying to rationalize everything. My mind was spinning with fright and bewilderment.

Then, the creature's face seemed to come to life, and how I wished it hadn't. The enormous eyes blinked. They blinked again and again, with each movement of the eyelid, they seemed to gain more focus and now I could feel them stabbing inside my head, making my temples throb; I had a feeling like my brain was swelling up and the skull was becoming too small for it. A horrible sensation of my eyes slowly popping out left me even more terrified than I had been already.

I couldn't take my eyes off the creature, I didn't dare shut them. I was afraid that if I did, it would come even closer the next time I looked at it again. Suddenly the creature's face seemed to become more textural. It blushed and then darkened. The skin appeared paper thin, waving like there was a soft wind inside the mouth, blowing against it. For a horrified second I thought its face was full of maggots. I remembered seeing a rabbit in a plastic bag once. The bag was discarded in the alley by the thrash bins behind our house.I thought it was still alive and moving. When I opened the bag, I realized that the movement came from hundreds if not thousands of maggots that were feeding on its body.

My stomach heaved again, but I didn't throw up. I couldn't have even if I wanted to. With exception of my eyes and eyelids, my entire body seemed to have been paralyzed. I could feel my heart beating wildly, and my stomach turning in disgust and fear, but that was it.

"Thooo...maaassss..." I heard the voice again, still not certain if it was coming from the creature's mouth. Something poked out in between its teeth. It must have been a tongue, but it didn't look like it. Long and very thin, like an IV tube, it waved in the air and swooshed past my ears like a whip. The mouth opened wide and my eyes watered with the assault of the brutal stench.

Suddenly the creature moved very fast. One second it was in front of me, the next I just saw a silhouette charge to the foot of the bed as if in a fast forward motion. It was too rapid for me to see it clearly. As much as I was afraid when it was squatting in front of me, now I wished it remained there.

Knowing that it was somewhere in the room and I couldn't see it was absolutely petrifying. I tried to make a noise, squeeze a scream or at least a whisper out of my throat, but my vocal cords were just as paralyzed as the rest of my body.

I felt the covers slowly being pulled off my body towards the foot of the bed and presumably towards where the creature was now standing. I have always hated the sensation of the covers being literally crept off my skin, leaving me bare and vulnerable. My brother Andrew used to do that to me when we were kids. He thought it was funny, I didn't.

The sensation was similar to the one when one sits in a bathtub full of comfortably warm water and unplugs the stopper, remaining perfectly still, waiting for the water to drain. One has a feeling like your energy is running off one's body and into the drain, only to be replaced by dread and depression.

The cover now completely off, I felt the chill in the room, despite the oppressing heat of the night. I could still smell the stench of the creature's breath, it seemed to have gotten imbedded in my nostrils.

Stone cold fingers touched the back of my thighs, sharp fingernails scratching their way all the way up to my buttocks. I felt one of the long nailed fingers slip inside my crack and press against my colon.

I closed my eyes and tried to pray. It had been so long since I had done it, I forgot how to do it. God, please help me... kept spinning round my brain over and over again.

"Nooo...oot...gooo...hooood...Thooo...maaasss..." said the disembodied voice and this time I had to admit to myself it belonged to Jeannie. I presumed that's what she would have sounded like if she were stoned out of her mind trying to whisper in a scary voice. It was thick, the words slow and slurred, as if the creature or Jeannie or whoever the hell was messing with me had trouble forming sounds that would be understandable to my scrambled brain.

I closed my eyes in relief when the fingers left my body. I was wrong, after all. For a moment I was afraid I'd be raped by an entity. What a frightening thought! Something zoomed in front of my eyes and paused on the periphery of my vision. Even though the creature could move with a speed of light I had a feeling that it wasn't what I had just seen.

The object that sped past me very slowly returned and stilled itself directly in front of me. It was the thing that came out of its mouth earlier. A tube-like tongue or so it seemed. Now it appeared as if it had eyes of its own. It swayed softly to the left and to the right, as if it was a dancing cobra, observing me. Another terrifying thought struck me and I wished I could have moved more than just my eyes. I wished I could have clamped my lips shut so tight nothing would ever be able to enter my mouth. An odd sound of sniffing whistled out of the tube and I realized that this is how the creature must have been testing my smells.

The tongue, or so I presumed that's what it was, gently touched my nose, my cheek and the exposed ear. It was cold and slimy to touch, almost metallic. Yet again, as if reading my mind, the thing carefully touched my lips, prodded against them and then squeezed itself in. The taste of it in my mouth was foul beyond description. Acidy, sour and stingy, it seemed to leak some sort of fluid or saliva, as if lubricating my mouth.

It kept sliding farther into my mouth. It touched the back of my throat and wiggled itself down it, making my entire body shiver when I retched, but nothing came back up from my stomach. I could feel every inch of its progress, the unpleasant coldness inside my body giving away how far it has advanced.

When it hit the wall of my stomach, I could feel it prod and push against it, which at first felt uncomfortable, but progressively more painful as it kept driving against the soft flesh of my organs. Unconcerned by the obstacle it slammed against it powerfully a few times and I could feel the flesh deep inside my body tear as the tongue broke through the softness, driving further, bruising and cutting my intestines and god knows what else. The sweet taste of blood filled my mouth and I believed I would go mad if I were not able to scream.

As if satisfied or disappointed with what it had found in my stomach, I could feel the tongue slowly pulling out of me, inch by painful inch. The feeling that I got was that there were tiny tentacles or thorns on it, which when pulled back would stab deep inside my flesh, as if refusing the action of retrieval. I could feel a tickly trickle of fluid seeping out of my mouth, soaking the pillow on which I had been lying. It must have been a mixture of my own blood and the creature's juices.

Just as the tip of the tongue, which was the most painful part, reached my throat, it seemed to have made a tiny loop inside it and to my horror resumed the its exploration, this time upwards, stabbing through my breathing canal and to what I presumed was inside my brain.

The pain was unbelievable, even compared to the brutal tearing of my stomach. I could feel the thin, cold tongue enveloping my brain, squeezing it like a python and then it began to swell up. Little by little, as if sucking something out of my head, it was vibrating and bloating until it must have been the size of a man's wrist. I believed my jaw would dislocate at any given moment; my eyes hurt with pressure of being pushed out of my head; the sinus headache that I had had a winter before and which had left me almost debilitated was a child's play compared to what I was feeling at this particular moment.

Each and every one of my teeth began hurting with a stinging pain, a toothache so horrendous like I have never felt before in my life. The creature was obviously sucking something out of my head, my body and even though I didn't want to know what that was I was certain that these were the last seconds of my life. My brain was to be devoured by something I couldn't understand, for reasons that I comprehended even more.

The pain was becoming more intense, even though I thought it could not have gotten any worse. My mind began fogging up, and the last thought I had was to God. Why was he letting this happen to me? If it truly was real.