Everything Costs More – Short Story
He pulls his belt free from its clasp and undoes the button to his pants. He lets out a muffled grunt as he lowers his fly and lets the jeans carelessly fall to the floor, followed moments later by his boxes. He belches as he lowers himself down and awkwardly makes himself comfortable on the toilet seat, gently placing his iPhone on the bare flesh of his leg.
“Okay honey, let’s hope you’re still on,” he whispers out loud as he opens up safari and quickly selects one of his faviroute links in a bar at the bottom of the app.
Moments later the screen flashes and reveals a dark room with only the outline of an empty bed to be seen.
“Hello stranger,” a voice says softly.
Quickly he types in the chat bar,
‘Hello baby, sorry I’m late’
“It’s alright sugar, I don’t mind waiting for you,” she says softly as he sees something move underneath the sheets that lay over the bed.
‘Can we go prvt?’
“Honey, if you’re paying the bill you can take me anywhere.”
He quickly presses on several selections and the screen lights up, declaring that they are now both in a private room.
‘It’s been too long’ he types.
She laughs, “Honey we only saw each other a few hours ago. Or should I say, you saw me a few hours ago. I haven’t ever seen you yet honey.”
‘I know, one day maybe. But my wife, she’ll never understand’
She laughs again, “Honey you need to move that woman on, in the only one you should ever have on your mind,” she says as her shadowy form becomes more obvious.
‘It’s complicated baby, you know that’
“Oh sugar, I know. But let’s not waste this time, let’s use it for all the right reasons,” she says as her legs fall over the side of the bed and she sits up, her face now almost in view.
‘Oh baby, you’re ducking gorgeous’
‘*fucking. Bloody autocorrect’
She laughs, as she falls forwards and her lifeless body topples onto the ground and another figure slowly moves into view.
“This one is going to cost you a lot more than the usual Freddy,” a deep scratchy voice hisses, as Fred feels something touch the back of his neck.
Share this:
Matthew Tonks
People are surprised when reading Matthew’s stories that he’s a sane forty something year old, happily married, father of one, employed full time, who dreams of dark disturbing things that any sane person would never even contemplate thinking of. But it's true, he’s toyed with writing for most of his adult life, but has always found the peg a writer must fit into is not the shape he wished to be. His writing can be described as lamenting, long, concussive (yes it smashes you in the head), compulsive, and stuffed with rhythmic communication and violence, let’s not forget the violence. His own opinion on his writing is this, “You see, I don't just want the words to seep into your mind, but into your soul, showing you images of blood and beauty through, volatile language, violence, sex, love and sin. My muse takes different shapes, and every now and then you can see her shining her wicked smile in some of my stories, tempting you with her promises, but ripping your heart out instead.”
So have a look, and take a seat in my wayward ride, as you join me while I purge through, this twisted road of madness.
Uh oh.
LikeLiked by 1 person