Now I may have been ancient and stricken with the agony of time, but I was aligning myself with the Disciples of Chaos as a king. My iron throne sat in a warehouse and my penthouse at the top of this tower of Babel was merely an old workshop converted into a studio style bedroom. Yet it felt like a sanctuary, and the disciples saw my hunger but they had no idea what could satiate it. On one particular day a young lady was offered almost gift wrapped to my room. Contrary to popular belief, I was not the type to wander in through the night and start raping an innocent woman while she was asleep. This was a role that may have taken the fancy of others with a DNA abnormality. I was not guided by any moral path but merely enjoyed the thrill of the chase and to look in the eyes of a mortal and feel a sense of sexual idolatry. These were the fleeting glimpses of the little death and a brush with eternity that would be brought to a crescendo and pitched down in a cosmically charged ejaculation.
The fair damsel brought into my chamber was not a virgin but was not well known among the boys either. Her reputation was more pure than most and after a few conversations with Izzy, agreed to be my prize.
We danced the naked samba, a medley of flesh slapping, fresh jazz that had the random chaotic tones of Coltrane. The key to demon sex isn't some Japanese fusion tentacle porn, just the perfect balance of rhythm even with an average cock; throw in foreplay, afterplay and dramatic tension and you have yourself a woman clenching the sheets in a somewhat satisfied heap. Unfortunately I was never completely satisfied, even after spraying the mortal gasp. I appreciated a gift but the sex of mortals was like offering cannabis to a heroin addict.
Impending conflict has been pawing away at me; a dryness in my being that needed slaking. It was a black bear than needed to go out and have a feed. I headed out for a quarter pound of flesh with cheese.
***
Despite contrary belief, most pikeys did not reside in caravans. They tended to favour the more modest social housing in council 'estates' and the one I found myself in was not offering any exceptions. The slum/ghetto was another patch of concrete jungle- a failed social experiment. I could not help but feel a sense of déjà vu with my visit to Laszlo's charming abode, though this would offer a very different tone and atmosphere. I rapped upon this chamber door and waited for the obligatory muttering of the old pikey, a cacophony of guttural and mumbling sounds with the odd bit of an Irish accent thrown in. He abruptly opened the door.
"Fookmee!" he exclaimed. The sight of Adam was now boring through his gaze as an apparition. He only had a moment to register this image before I lashed out with a quick chop to his larynx. He gasped frantically before I hurled him inside and thrust the door shut behind me to stop prying eyes from their own curiosity. A man I can only assume was family rushed at me but I countered his movement, spinning quickly on my heels and using his momentum to send his crashing into the front door, knocking his head on the old pine. I sharply kicked out at his leg, watching his kneecap fold in on itself, which was met with the glorious sound of a drunken Irishman howling in agony. I followed this medley of pain up with a quick Glasgow kiss, a headbutt that knocked this prick out cold.
The old Pikey tried to raise himself up from his cowering stance, but I had other plans.
"Oh no you don't- I am not finished with you my friend. Not on your life." I stated.
The Old pikey was even less difficult to knock out cold, but I was quick to wake him up in order to remind him he was now strapped to a chair and was now facing the bloodied toe end of his familiar cricket bat.
"Confused yet? I bet you are. The old cliché of 'seeing a ghost' probably springs to mind right now, but nothing could be further from the truth.... You see despite what you may see before you, without our brief introduction just moments ago, neither of us have actually met." I smugly shared.
"mmmphh ... mmmsppphh" words attempted to pry out from beyond the gaffer tape but it was of little use to me.
"There is no point saying anything. Even without the tape around your mouth, I simply cannot understand you... and that's surprising considering the amount of languages I know." I commented to the pikey.
"I assume you recognise this? Hardly Excalibur I know, but nonetheless incredibly important to my host. See without this he would not have met his maker... so to speak. Well either way I'm grateful for this opportunity." I remarked.
It was at that point that I smashed both of the pikey's knuckles.
"On second thoughts..." I commented, ripping off the gaffer tape in one swift rip from his mouth.
"I think I'd prefer you to scream in that fucked up pikey garble.I would also like my host to hear it... after all you heard it from his lips too."
With this last comment, I rained a number of blows on his kneecaps, the pikey yelping out in horror each time and the bat vibrating through my hands.
"Why I am I telling you all of this... monologuing like a Bond Villain? Not that you'd get the reference, you ignorant fuck?"
He mumbled something incoherent.
"It's simple. I'm an arrogant megalomaniac deity and you are not meant to live my friend."
The bat came around his head and gave another shattering blow.
I let my host Adam look on as he slowly caved the pikey's head in with the bat.
During the last blow, I felt a vice like grip entwine around the inside of my fingers and it felt for a moment like paralysis mixed in with frostbite.
Easy Adam. Just relax and let me do all the work. Try and have some fun in there.
I forced the paralysis back and gazed over at the bloodied carnage of my handiwork, pulling Adam's focus onto what remained of the pikey's skull. The only slight pang of regret I could feel was that I didn't take more time for torture, for it really was the little things sometimes.
For those that have enjoyed the last 24 chapters, the next half of the novel is available at:
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Resurrection
ParanormalIn the beginning there was Adam.... A world-weary global backpacker working as a bartender in Southern England; his life starts to take a series of downward turns and his thoughts start to become dark, very dark. Supernatural forces are circling Ada...
