Sample: My Name Is Not… Two Guns

Faliro had gotten ahead of himself. The house had five occupants before he had completed re-wiring the upstairs. The occupied portion of the house was currently without electricity, heat, or hot water. Faliro did not really care about the others, but his feet were starting to get cold. He let the two couples sit in the dark, getting to know each other as he hastily Jerry-rigged the remaining circuits. His impatience – mixed with cold, stiff fingers, and juggling a cigarette – cost him a few toasted fingertips.

At first, the four spoke in hushed tones. Gradually, they became louder. “Hello?” he heard Benny call. “Is anybody out there?” Faliro shook his head (Nobody here but us chickens). After a few more tentative calls, the screaming began. Screams for help, for attention, for anyone who might hear them. The loudest voice, of course, was Sandy’s. The only voice he never heard was Ian’s. Neither of these facts surprised him.

Confident that no one would hear their cries – or care, if they did – Faliro dug some headphones and an mp3 player out of his bag. Pressing them over his ears, he turned the volume up, and returned his focus on the job at hand.

They were still screaming when he threw the power on. He heard loud pops! as a couple of bulbs blew, but nothing any more alarming than that. The shouting had fallen silent, and Faliro pulled the headphones down around his neck. The power hummed steadily, which was not ideal, but it was better than several of the alternatives.

The light directly in front of the occupied room was dark. Faliro paused to tap it. It flickered, then popped, making him jump back. He took a moment to shake himself loose, and flick off a piece of glass burning his arm, before entering the room.

Leila, directly in front of the door, backed into the wall, then slid away until the chain pulled tight. Faliro stared down at her, taking a drag of his cigarette. She looked up at him with eyes full of fear. When she met his gaze, she dropped her eyes to the floor. (Interesting…) Slowly, Filaro turned to the others. Ian scowled, but refused to meet his eyes. Benny stared at him in shock. Sandy looked him up and down critically. He wondered if she liked what she saw.

“Who the fuck’re you?” she demanded.

“Jay,” he replied, taking another drag of his cigarette.

They looked at one another, surprised at his willingness to answer. Sandy slumped down, relaxing a bit. “Sandy,” she replied as if introducing herself.

“I know,” he said. “I know who you are.” He looked around to include the others.

“Why –” Faliro was surprised to hear Leila’s delicate voice, “Why are we here?” Ian shot her a look and gave a sharp shake of his head.

“You’re here for my entertainment,” he answered.

“I don’t understand.”

Faliro shrugged. “That’s not necessary,” he replied.

“How do you expect us to entertain you?” Ian asked in a hard voice.

Smiling, Faliro shrugged again. “Any way I want,” he told him. “I have a very good imagination… but I’m open to suggestions.” He raised his eyebrows and glanced around at the others.

“How about… you let us go?” Benny suggested, chuckling nervously. “You can be entertained by our backsides becoming smaller as we run away…” as he spoke, everyone turned to stare at him, and his voice dwindled under the scrutiny. Sandy rolled her eyes, as if she could not believe he could say such a thing.

But Faliro chuckled. “That was good,” he said, pointing. “You’re real good.” He perched his cigarette between his lips, and fished the keys out of his pocket. “Thanks for volunteering.”

“Wait, what?” Benny asked, alarmed. “I didn’t – What?” He put his hands up in self-defense as Faliro approached him.

Slipping his fingers under Benny’s collar, he pulled the hostage to his knees. He resisted, but did not fight. Pushing his head down against his hip, Faliro unlocked his collar. As soon as Benny felt that he was loose, he jerked out of Faliro’s grasp.

“I don’t want any trouble!” he called, backing farther away.

“Oh, I know,” Faliro said, nodding. He shoved the keys back into his pocket, took a long drag, then pulled a hunting knife out from behind his back. He heard Leila whimper behind him. Even in the dim light, he could see the color drain from Benny’s face.

Turning, Faliro grabbed Sandy’s hair. She screamed as he pulled her head back and held the knife at her throat. The blade wasn’t even touching her skin, but Benny buckled.

“No!” he yelled. “No! OK!” He took a few nervous steps forward. “What-whatever you want – Whatever you imagine, I’m – I’ll do it. Jus-Just don’t hurt my wife.”

“S’what I thought,” Faliro muttered, shoving Sandy’s head away.

“Fucking –” she began, but withered when he turned back to her with raised hand.

“No!” Benny took a few more steps forward. “No, I’m – She’s sorry. See? She’s sorry; She was just scared.” Sandy nodded, looking more childish than scared.

Faliro turned his attention back on Benny, looking the man up and down. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth: He had thought that Benny was the typical nice guy, but now he just seemed like a bitch.

Sliding the knife back into the sheath clipped to his belt, Faliro stepped up to Benny. He was uncomfortably close. Benny closed his eyes, and turned his face, wincing in anticipation. Faliro reached down to grope the front of Benny’s trousers.

“Oh, God!” Benny yelped, jumping back into the wall. It was the last thing he had been expecting.

Faliro accidentally blew smoke in Benny’s face, then repeated for good measure. He unbuttoned his trousers, and snaked his hand down his pants. As Faliro explored Benny’s genitals, the latter began to stammer silently. From the snatches Faliro could hear, he guessed it was a prayer for chastity and purity of mind (That’s a first…). Faliro was surprisingly aroused by the man’s faithful efforts. Snorting, he began to try to make Benny hard.

“No…” Benny whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.

The others watched in open-mouthed horror. Benny began to whimper, his shoulders shaking as he fought the urge to cry.

“Please…” he begged, turning his face away from the others. “Please, not in front of my wife.”

Although Faliro was already throbbing, he had no intention of pursuing this further here. He pulled his hand out of Benny’s pants. After licking the small amount of fluid he had managed to leech, he wiped his fingers dry on the front of Benny’s shirt.

“Let’s go, then,” Faliro said, nodding toward the door.

Sniffling, Benny cupped his hands over his pants and shuffled toward the door. Sandy’s eyes were wide with shock, and her hands were pressed over her mouth. As soon as their backs were to her, however, Filaro could have sworn he heard her snort with derision… or amusement.


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