Post by Deleted on Nov 29, 2018 0:32:11 GMT -5
The Trinity, post script Morten felt really uncomfortable as he walked into the backroom of the tattoo parlor. He had been promised the man he was visiting was legit and at the time, he worried that maybe he was ‘too legit’ and it made him nervous. The back ‘office’ looked more like a garbage dump, everything was lit in a nerve wracking red light and the floor felt squishy beneath him, the whole room felt like a living/breathing thing. Morten found himself touching things in the room, almost giving into this morbid curiosity. It was so out of his wheelhouse, that he couldn’t help himself. That was until he realized that he shouldn’t be leaving fingerprints. He pulled his hands back as if he’d been caught with his hands in the cookie jar as he suddenly felt the presence of someone else. “You Morten Palmer?” a voice croaked. Morten jolted as he turned to see a dangerously gaunt man with pale skin and dark eye sockets. He instinctively took a step backwards. The man was tall and somehow overbearing without making a move or saying a word. He swallowed, “Yes.” “Good,” the man nodded. “And you’re Mr. Stoker?” The man let out a throaty laugh that turned quickly into a growl, “You don’t get to say my fucking name.” “Ok, ok, fine,” Morten pushed his glasses up his nose, but they immediately sank back down, sliding on sweat, “I put the money in the bank account and…” Morten found himself thirsty and desperate. The man smiled wide, showing yellowed shark like teeth, “Relax Morten. It’s not like you’re the one I’m going to kill” he grabbed Morten by the shoulders with a frighteningly tight grip, “Am I?” Morten shivered as his heart rate grew far faster than his cardiologist warned him about. Morten thought about his wife and children. He thought about his happy little house. His happy little life. He wanted to run away. “No, not me. Someone else.” The man laughed harder, “Don’t be scared. All you have to do is tell me who and where and I’ll do the rest. We’ll keep your soft suburban hands nice and clean for you, peckerwood,” with that said, the man let Morten go. Morten stammered, “His name is Willie Pete and he’s in Europe,” Somehow the man’s smile grew even wider, Morten imagined being swallowed whole. “Oh so I get to go on a vacation? Europe? I’m tickled as pink as your wife’s pussy.” Morten swallowed against a dry throat, frightened that this man would talk about his wife, let alone her… Morten produced a picture and handed it over to the man, “This is him.” The man took a good look at the picture and then fixed his eyes back on Morten. Morten couldn’t stop looking at the man’s teeth which hung like yellow daggers. “Well,” his jaw was all muscles as he clenched his teeth as he thought for a moment, “What did a jaggoff like this do to deserve death?” Morten tried to answer, but the man just held a finger up. “It doesn’t fucking matter.” he laid a strong hand on Morten’s shoulder, “Because I’m your best friend now, and I guess you could say that I…” Their eyes were locked, “Bully the bullies.” “Good. Good.” Morten felt dirty already, but he knew he was too far gone to stop. “I’ll carve him up real fucking good. I promise, friend.” Morten wanted to vomit, realizing what he had put into motion, “So is that it?” The man tucked the picture into the pocket of his long black jacket and glared at Morten. The glare, Morten felt, went right through him. The man smiled, vacantly, “Do you want something to remember him by?” “Excuse me?” Morten asked. “A memento, you know.” “Um…” “An earlobe, a tongue.” he laughed. Morten backed away, struggling to get to the door. It felt like the room was fighting to keep him inside as the man turned to watch him leave. Morten’s sweaty palms couldn’t turn the door knob. “Maybe an eyeball.” Morten used his sleeve and finally threw open the door and felt that ugly feeling of fight or flight kick in. “Testicle? How about his pecker?” Morten found himself running from vile laughter. Vile laughter that built and grew louder, despite him moving away. “How about his heart?!” More laughter. “Heart it is! I’ll Fed Ex it to you, you fucking pussy!” Morten’s life would never be the same. And yes, Willie Pete was fucked. ? ? ? ? ? ? ? |