I’m back by popular demand. By Jess’s demand, anyway. Thanks, Jess. This is part of an on-going project tentatively named “Kiki on the Beach”
This snippet is first draft/rough draft and contains many errors. What you see hear may not necessarily be included in the final work. Copyright 2007 by Carter Nipper. All rights reserved.
Dancing specters reflected in a placid, greasy pool; three-dimensional illusions of power and glory that mock the very fabric of sanity. Kiki spells her magic without vowels, in the ancient tongue, and the Elder Gods laugh and cavort in senseless orgies of guilty recrimination.
Flickering firelight casts half-seen shadows, orange and black stripes against the sand, stalking their prey with soundless stealth and eyes of jade and obsidian. The slow surf heartbeat gives rhythm to the savage ecstasy, the ritual that encompasses the eternally repeating cycles of the Universe.
Sweat sparkles on skin as climax approaches, an oily rainbow glimmer in the night and the light. Head thrown back, mouth thrown open, glassy eyes open to the stars, she twirls, moans, and finally falls limply to the gritty ground. The work is finished. The threads have been woven into a net of unearthly beauty and power that is cast into the darkness to entrap ethereal spirits to do her bidding.
Fading flames die slowly, unwillingly, hoping for one more victim to feed their frenzy, and the stars watch impassively as the tableau fades into darkness.
Brian was uneasy, and he didn’t know why. There was no particular reason that he could pin down, just the sort of niggling anxiety that he sometimes felt just before a thunderstorm, like trouble looking for someone to happen to. He tried to fight the feeling back as he wheeled his Beamer through the darkening streets.
“Probably nothing”, he thought. “Just something I ate.”
He decided to stop in at Opal’s to begin the hunt for tonight’s entertainment.
“Always lots of babes there”, he thought. “Maybe one of them will get lucky tonight.”
He slipped into a parking place neat the club’s entrance, accepting the gift as if it were his natural right. Long hours of practice showed in his smooth exit from the vehicle, the nonchalant flip of the alarm button as the keys slid into his pocket. He checked himself out in a darkened store window as he passed — sandy hair spiked in front and fashionably mussed in the back, clothes from the latest GQ. All very OK. He grinned and turned in.
He paused before descending the two steps onto the floor of the club, checking out the scene. Things seemed a little slow, but then it was still early. He recognized the girl sitting on the other side of the U-shaped bar, where she could see everything that went on, her red hair shining bloodily in the lights of the bar.
“What’s her name?” he thought. “Something with a K … Kay? Kathy?”
He did a quick mental assessment.
“Pretty good, but not one of the best I’ve ever had. A little too wild. Weird, too, always talking about magic and shit.”
Her intense green eyes speared him at that moment, sending a cold chill through him as she held his eyes for just a half second too long, her Mona Lisa smile seeming to say that she had heard. Her cat eyes gleamed like emeralds and her small almost-smile turned into a Cheshire Cat grin that faded slowly into the increasing chaos of noise and darkness.
He moved down into the jungle of tables and chairs, dismissing her from his mind. He was not in the mood for reruns tonight. Besides, second times were always so terribly complicated, implied promises and all that. He just didn’t feel up to that kind of scene.
“Now, that looks promising”, he mused as he noticed a brunette sitting alone.
Her skirt showed just a flash of very enticing thigh, and her silky blouse was unbuttoned down to just there.
He grinned and began to plan his strategy, his earlier feelings of unease buried now in the thrill of the hunt.
Shadows dance slowly in the twilight, a stately waltz of desire and need, urgency masked by formality and structure. Separating, as at the end of a song, they come together again in a different combination, seeking always the perfect fit, never finding it, never giving up.
Teeth gleam against blood-red lips, terrible edged weapons of beauty and horror moistly parting to release hot breath and primal sounds of hunger and warning. Eyes with the glare of Hell reflecting shine into the night, seeing many things that may or may not be there, but are real nonetheless.
Kiki sees many things and grins her terrible grin as she plays the invisible strings that make her inaudible music and watches her puppets dance to her indelible rhythm.
His cigarette burned a hole in the darkness, a Hellish firefly riding the currents. From his chair by the window, he could see her form stretched out under the sheet in deep, satiated relaxation. His former uneasiness had returned, now congealed into a cold stone lump just below his sternum, and he was puzzled by it.
The sex had been terrific, one of the best he had ever had, controlled and gentle when necessary, wild and uninhibited when the time was right. It had been an act performed without words, as if words were not needed, as if they had each known in advance what the other wanted and needed. It had been pure sex, pure pleasure, and the climax had been almost agonizing in its intensity.
And now she lay in untroubled sleep, and he sat up troublingly unsatisfied. He lit another cigarette and the lump in his stomach grew cold and hard. Her dark brown hair seemed suddenly reddish in the darkness, and, though her soft brown eyes were tightly closed, he could feel a pair of cold green eyes watching him. Her soft snores seemed like chuckles of anticipation. Strangely, he could not remember her name. Jenny? Jeanine? He tore his gaze from her slumbering form and looked out the window at the unmoving landscape.
His eyes felt gritty as he walked into his office the next morning, as if they had been rolled in sand. After the battle with the traffic and a near-miss with a maniacal UPS truck, he was really not prepared for the crisis that awaited him.