I slithered through the back alleys of viscid blackness – a thickened spume of midnight – echoes of terror trickling from the frothing gutters of silence. From betwixt the stench of fermenting decomposition, a pungent-sweet dankness rolled in from the dead-end crevasse to my left. An aromatic cannabinoid, poisoning the nostrilic apertures of my hemorrhaging withdrawals.
I peregrinated through the vastness – a chasm of netherworld delectation, sweetening the primeval atmosphere of scorching desire…and I heard a silken female voice, “Oh man…this is so sweet. A hint of pine, spice and warmth – yet not saccharine or harsh.”
I approached quietly, drawn to the wicked aroma of intoxication. Tangerine moonlight peeled away the darkness, slivers of misshapened twilight carving evil from the slab of darkish miasma. A beautiful woman’s silhouette pulsated as she exhaled soothing wisps of moistened smoke – her lips expired plumes of nightmarish desire. Words floated on the dead air, “You’ve finally come…my lover.”
I was stiffened in fear, a throbbing rigidity of diamond cutting prowess, “Who…me?”
A waterfall of moonlight washed over me. I stood in the brilliant limelight of gloriousness, naked before God. Fear drizzled on my flesh like razored barbs of metallic agony. Seven dead bodies. Their milky flesh enshrouded in electric blood – droplets drizzling – quenching thirsts of unborn souls.
“Come closer my lover,” she intoxicatedly groaned, “I want you to smoke.”
I crawled to her on my knees, though I already knew her satanic, clandestine wickedness. She moaned, “Smoke this…it is the elixir of perpetual pleasure,” she handed me the smoldering bong. I placed the stem in my oral orifice – a look of petrified eroticism in my eyes – knowing hell awaited me. Her lips parted, arousing a frisson of trepidation. Her silken finger tip burst into emerald flame as she held it above the steely bowl. And I inhaled particles of carbonaceous matter – suspended in her matrix of tranquility – my lungs glazed in resinous tar.
A highness of mountainous altitudes soared throughout my bloodstream as I proclaimed, “On your knees my seductress of temptation – it is not you to call me – it is me that commands you,” I made maddening love to her – thousands of bloodshot eyes gawking through the tenebrous sea of midnight.
“I am Leviathan, lord of darkness,” I proclaimed. With my laser sharp blade I peeled the tender membranes of flesh from her blood drenched musculature. Her sub-epidermal geometries so beautiful, her vascular framework so delicious – yet scream in pain she did not. With my serpentine tongue, I tasted her scarlet drizzlings – the complex flavours of mercury and nitrogen infused macromolecules – she bellowed, “Are you high my bitch?” She exploded from the throes of lifelessness, slamming my pathetically confused, stoned body on the blackened tar of steaming road.
“And praise the glory of Christ!” a shrieking voice of magnificence vociferated. The priest lifted my sluggish thorax from the icy warmth of holy water. The crowd wore masks of crapulous stupor, their faces engraved in disbelief, “Oh my God! You saved my lover!”
A woman of midnight hair – incandescent highlights of fiery lust held me against her supple breast. She cried out, “Bobby, my lover. Welcome home.”
The sea of onlookers stared into the deepest trenches of my heart – the wicked claws of Satan exorcised from my soul. Blessed in the tender hands of besotted inebriation, the stupefied enchantress of lust took me home – satisfying my libidinous hunger. And the rest is heavenly history.
Ah…yes! I was in a peculiar mood this morning and wanted to create a beautifully strange piece of fiction. I hope you found it satisfying…whew, I know I did.
*The picture is Romi




#1 by teeni at September 25th, 2008
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Wow – what a trip this was. It was almost a little too close for comfort for me. You describe some things so well that I feel I’m experiencing them. But I’ll never go back to smoking (tobacco or otherwise). LOL.
#2 by Revellian at September 25th, 2008
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Thanks Teeni! I know the subject matter is weird, but I’m trying to make freakish discomfort elegant and morbid. Thanks so much for commenting!
#3 by Genie Princess at September 26th, 2008
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Oh boy! Too close for comfort for me too Bobby, but glad to see u’re back to blogging! And thanks for having Mariuca here today!
#4 by Revellian at September 26th, 2008
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Thanks Marzie
#5 by Sueblimely at September 27th, 2008
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This is so powerful and well written, Bobby. I am back here for a second read – disturbing but most definitely powerful.
#6 by Revellian at September 27th, 2008
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Thanks so much Sue, you just don’t know how much that means to me. I really put a lot of effort in carefully constructing each sentence. I know the story is weird and perhaps a bit offensive, but it is meant to be word art – like a dark painting. You made my day!
#7 by Miss Moneypenny at September 27th, 2008
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So, this is what happens when you smoke from Obama’s Bong of Hope?
#8 by Revellian at September 28th, 2008
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@Debbie: Hahahaha…Ya know, your post did indirectly give me some ideas for this post. I almost called it Obama’s Bong of hope, but wanted to leave all political rhetoric out of this story. I might write an upcoming story with that title!!!