Like Dogs? [Part One]

[Moogle]

Ok so I'm not really looking for grammatical or spelling critique on this one, but stylistic and overall impressions of the story would be lovely!




It was night, dark and cold. Wind whipped at my face like the chilled words of an affronting world, stinging the corners of my eyes. I pulled my coat closer around me in an effort to warm my soul. The sweet scent of her perfume carried itself into my mind, a contemptuous aroma that only fed my desires of the flesh. She was standing on the sidewalk it was late, too late for any reasonable person to be here. A whore and nothing more, I approach carefully. She sees me first.

"Hi honey… looking for some company?" She smiles, she's young, I can clearly see the apprehension in her eyes. A verboten professional, I don't care what caused her to turn her life towards prostitution; I only care about her. A subtle nod of affirmation lets her know I'm interested and the apprehension leaves her. Don't let down your guard my sweet.

"D-do you like dogs?" My voice sounds weak and pathetic, I feel like I want to run away, but I'm too afraid. Antipathy pushes me forward, I hate myself. The wind eases off carefully, providing more tension on my already weak will.

She faux moans and winks at me; "Honey, I love dogs, do you want to show me yours?" Innocent little seductress, you have no idea what I wish I could say to you. She thinks she's in control, I'm not her average John. The wind picks up again as I produce a handful of bills to lure her in, she takes the bait.

Her name is Harley she explains with a receptive smile, I don't care, she comes with me, hand in hand. What am I doing? I don't know, I don't care; instinct takes over as we leave the street for a seedy motel. The King's Inn, a misnomer to be sure; grime is the only thing remotely majestic about this place.

I pay for a room, the night desk clerk knows why we're here; he's used to it, I'm not. I keep my eyes low and my voice is meek as I sign the register. Tonight I'm Nathan Phillips, the anonymity of cash ensures my fabrication stands. The room is worse than nature's cold fingers, disgusting and dirty, but it offers the privacy we require. The whore sits on the bed, she's still thinks she's in control.

"Mm, you want to join me honey?" She purrs with a velvet song. My eyes wide with lust, I stand motionless unsure and afraid of what to do. She pats the bed, all too eager to finish the deed and make a quick buck, clever girl. Do what you have to and get out quickly, you're not afraid, but you should be.

"W-will you undress…? I… I think I would like you to un-undress…" My head spins, I flutter, I'm so scared; what if she says no? Money makes the world go round, money is the root of all evil, money is power and power is good. She starts to strip with a coo and a smirk, carnally keeping her eyes locked on mine, I stare back, too afraid to look away. Naked before me, she is young, so pure, my mind races with fantasy. She bends over on the bed and parts her sweet lips, alluringly her seduction grabs hold of my imagination. I'm paralyzed with fear, my animalistic desires cast aside by a harsh anxiety, I feel helpless, and then my hand finds the grip of the pistol hidden in the waistband of my jeans.

I find confidence, power, and purpose. Her back still turned, she makes things easy, she goes down quickly after a blow to the head. Her naked form collapses on the bed in a heap, she's not hurt badly. Unconscious as she is, my voracity takes over and I lasciviously rape her, she doesn't struggle. I feel strong, I'm not afraid anymore.

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"Clouds flew lazily overhead, soaring through the distant blue sea that was the sky. It was a summer afternoon, the air was warm but not quite hot, just the way we liked it, Frankie and I. Mother came out of the house with a tall cool glass of lemonade, Frankie ran towards her as usual, huffing and puffing and wagging his tail.


"Mother shooed my best friend away as she brought me a glass of the pale yellow elixir. I drank quickly, taste wasn't an idea in my mind, Mother frowned at seeing her hard sweetening work gone to waste. I knew she wouldn't be upset long. Frankie stuck his snout into the glass, trying to grasp that last bits of flavour with his tongue. We laughed at his attempts, it was the happiest time of my life."


I turned now to the listener of my tale, Harley, bound and gagged to a chair. The single light bulb swung slowly, lazily like the clouds in my memories and shone light across her face in deep swaying motions. I watched the tears bud from her eyes and grow to her chin, she was afraid, she should be.
"Ssh, hush now darling," I cooed, "Frankie's long dead my dear. Those were the happiest times of my life back in the country with my dog and my family."


I paused, almost coming to tears myself at the sweet memories of my youth, "No!" I stammered, "You were the ones who destroyed it all, you cast down my cherished thoughts and stole them all for yourself, you people all disgust me!" Rage was now welling within me, an uncontrollable rage. Anger scares most people, with me, at this time, with this person, anger feed the fear, and the fear became my rage. Fear of being wiped clean, eliminated, erased, rejected… no. I wasn't going to go like that, not like my dear dog.


I pulled the gag from her mouth, the barrel of my pistol insisted very strongly that she not scream. It seemed she was lead by fear as well, for she didn't scream. For that matter, she never did much of anything again; the trigger was lighter then I had thought, it was easy to pull. Red, scarlet, blood, everywhere. I felt a sense of pride over what I've done, she's still warm. I rape her again, my desires fulfilled.

[Dafydd Cymraeg]

Moogle, a powerful piece.

Without knowing where it fits into a larger story it's hard to say whether I enjoyed it, but for such a common scene it definitely kept me reading. Your style flowed easily and the characters were clear.

The recollection at the start of the second section confused me briefly. For me, it would flow better if there was something to indicate that it is a flashback of sorts.

Although it didn't stand out when I first read it, I'll mention the - "No!" I stammered - bit in the penultimate paragraph. All along, his speech has shown the stammer, but here it doesn't. Just leave out 'I stammered' if your intent is to keep the flow to show the rage. You could also get rid of 'Rage was now welling within me, an uncontrollable rage.' as that comes through quite clearly without needing to state it.

If this is the beginning of a serial-killer story, then it's not my type of thing, but based on this piece I'd definitely want to read more just to find out how this killing could possibly have anything to do with his dog!

p.s. I already don't like his mother so you could take that character either way for me.

[Moogle]

I'm glad you enjoyed it for what it is.

The second portion was actually written months before the top "half" of the tale. I had just decided I wanted a scene with someone strapped to a chair and a single mood evoking light bulb swinging overhead. Now the top portion was just written as an exercise for me because I tend to have a lot of trouble extrapolating on things that I've written beforehand. I forced myself to go back and set up this little scene that I had imagined and purely as an exercise I think it turned out well.

Thanks for the opinions and the time you took to read it.

[ysabara]

It was a very dark and powerful piece. I really like dogs ~ now I'm worried as to what that might imply about me! It was certainly intriguing and I'd like to know more.
Re the first paragraphs ~ you changed tense which was a little confusing.

[areader]

Not quite able to piece together what is happening or to connect to the story: characters/events/motivations.