Taste of Poison

Chapter One: Hogtied

 With my legs sprawled out as I stretch out on my black leather lounging chair, a handgun is held loosely in my left hand. My eyes open drowsily as I rub my numb face with my right hand. My nose crinkles at the when I get a whiff of the chemicals from last night. They sting and burn my nostril as I breathe in deeply.

The smell of vinegar fills my lungs, and I cough violently as I force myself to sit up. Across from me, my answering machine goes off and a familiar feminine voice fills the messy apartment living room. 

"Rocky Baby, that was really some party last-"

A growl escapes my lips as I point the gun at the machine and squeeze the trigger. The machine busts into pieces and a couple of sparks fly as it falls off its stand and onto the hard floor. Just after hearing the nickname "Rocky Baby" in the unfinished sentence pissed me off.

Only one person calls me that. 

But she's dead. 

With a grunt, I force myself off my chair. My black clothes are stained with the stench of vinegar which I knew damn well it isn't. There are several other people in my apartment living room. All of them are asleep and positioned by my couch or on my floor or where ever. 

I feel like complete shit. My body is oddly stiff, which I have been sleeping in a chair. I probably shot up something last night because my arms really hurt. I don't do drugs, but I was drinking heavily last night so I probably got so drunk and thought it was a good idea to try something out.

I don't need to do that again. Drinking is fine, but getting into hard drugs is a no go. I already sell the shit; I don't want to start abusing them as well.

I roll my fingers and shoulders, making them pop in several places, and it feels so good.

Before tossing my gun on the lounging chair, I put the safety on then walk to the bathroom as I pull off my black shirt and toss it on the floor. 

Once I reach the bathroom, I freeze. Standing there in just my pants and steel toed boots at my bathroom doorway, I see a girl in only her bra and panties hogtied in the empty bathtub, sound asleep. Her expression looks pained; it's probably because of the awkward position she's in.

My eyes narrow once my memories of last night come back to me in pieces. 

A lot of shit happened last night... I know that for sure. Everything seems very fuzzy, though. My mind hurts when I try to think back... Even the thoughts that I was having while I dreamt are all gone.

But as I stare at this girl, I get this feeling in my chest... I feel an itch in my hands as they begin to sweat. My face is suddenly hot with anger, I think. Is it anger?

No... It isn't anger, but it seems like it for some reason. Just looking at her makes me angry.

Was I going to kill this girl?

It makes sense because every time I look at her, I only have this...bloodlust. She just pisses me off for some unknown reason. Though I don't remember the reason, this feeling was enough.

Or is it lust?

Looking down at my arms, I notice the dried blood going down them. I see a couple of fresh track marks that are slightly swollen just above the places where my veins were. Now they were all in bad shape, and it's disgusting to look at.

No wonder I can't remember much of anything. I'm really not much of a junkie. I'm guessing I did heroin... I'm assuming because of the smell in the apartment. I always have drugs on me because I sell them. These are probably one of those rare times that I actually tried it. I've done coke, but that's as far as I've gone. I don't even remember shooting up heroin last night.