Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search
 




Average Rating
9

(1 votes)


RatingRated by
9Unknown

You must login to vote

Author's Note: Here is another older story of mine. Sorry, I just haven't had the time to write anything new. But I have a Xmas story planned that will rattle your teeth. Until then, I hope this whet's your appetite.
____________________________________

Dance with the Devil

By Parteepants

(yeah that title is cliche', and I regret it now. Anyway, this story has some sex and lots of gore.)


This pit is really a large bowl of brown dirt. In itís center, is the bonfire that my peers spend weekends drinking and laughing around. Since I am not one of the in-crowd, the section I stand in is empty. My classmates have moved to the other side of the fire as if I had the plague, but actually I brought something that is far worse.

Over the years, their abuse, both verbal and physical, has taken its toll and it is high time they feel my wrath. Which is why I visited the old hag, who is nicknamed ďThe Devilís Wife,Ē for some assistance that I will pay a very high price for. That is, if what she gave me works as advertised.

I chew the small blue tablet as she instructed, and wash it down with a swig of beer. The antidote, which is what she called it, leaves a dry sour taste in my mouth that the beer does not eliminate. However, I figure that this is a small price to pay for revenge.

I kneel and stare up at the orange flames that seem to lick the night sky. Then, I look back at my group and for once I am grateful that they are ignoring me. I reach under my red and black flannel shirt and pull out the six-inch gray log that the old lady gave me. From a distance, Iím sure it looks like a burnt piece of wood, but up close, it appears to be a dried limb of some sort. It is either a hoofed leg or maybe a small human arm. I really canít be sure which, but then again, I donít really care, and I toss it into the fire. Then I pick up my six-pack and make a slow retreat to the far, upper edge of our sandpitís bowl. I sit among the trees and wait for the show to begin.

Fortunately, it doesnít take long. Already, a light blue haze seems to be emanating from the fire and swirling around my classmateís legs as if it were a large smoky snake. My peers seem ignorant of its presence, but they are not immune to its effects. One girl, who is known from prudish behavior, is sandwiched between two guys. Her skirt is yanked up high, and only her panties protect her loins from their hungry hands. To the far right, two guys are pushing each other aggressively until fists start flying. Surprisingly, no else seems to notice these two battling. I return my eyes to the sandwiched girl and I notice that her panties have disappeared, but she doesnít seem to mind. She is gleefully grinding against them while letting her own hands wander.

I open another bottle of booze and swallow a large portion of it. Then I realize that the blue smoke has increased in volume and power. Everyone seems to be engaged in either an act of sex, violence or an odd combination of both. I watch as clothes are peeled and discarded with the same disdain as a bananaís outer layer. The first two fighting males are continuing their battle despite the blood that smothers both of their faces. I scan the crowd and see two people whose lips are locked, but they are intensely pulling at each otherís hair, so much so, that they are removing large clumps of their tresses from their partnerís scalp. Another fight has broken out, and it features several members from both sexes. The broken bottles they swing wildly cause blood to spray like water from a sprinkler, and I find myself chuckling aloud.

The macabre dance continues with bodies collapsing like dilapidated buildings. Some are lying half in the fire and burning like so much wood. Others lay prostrate and they become obstacles for their still combating peers.

I turn my vision back to the prudish girl, who has lost one of her suitors. He is involved with another girl who possesses a desire as disturbing as his own. At first glance, they appear to be kissing, but after further inspection they are actually biting and chewing each otherís face. The formerly virtuous girl is getting laid from behind, but her face is buried in the fire. Oddly, she is wrapping her hand around her loverís backside and is pushing him to maintain the pace of his thrusts.

I finish my beer and immediately open another. But before I can taste it, I hear footsteps behind me. Then, a hand comes to rest on my shoulder, and I notice its coldness through my flannel shirt. His hand feels as if it was made of ice, and its presence prevents me from turning to see his face. Next, he draws his mouth up close to my ear and I feel his breath as he speaks. It is of the same temperature as his hand when he asks, ďDid you get what you desired?Ē

I watch as the last bodies fall onto the blood stained sand, and then I look down at my shoes. A horror immediately fills me as to my surprise I see one of his feet. Well, hooves actually. Whatever the man behind me is, his feet are small, black hooves like that of a goat. His legs are covered in short brown fur, and a red tail serpentines around my thighs. At the tailís tip is a triangular head that is shaped like the business end of an arrow. As I take all of this in, he moves his hand to my back and rubs it along my spine. His touch chills my nerve endings, but when he moves his face in front of mine, his image shivers my soul.

His flesh is as white as bone, and his eyes are as black as the deepest abyss. His dark hair seems wet, and it falls flat against his forehead. However, his hair does not conceal the two, small, red horns that point up from the crown of his skull.

I finally answer his question with a slight stutter in my delivery, ďY-y-yes-s. I am pleased with my purchase.Ē

ďGood,Ē he responds with the smoothness of a snake. Then, something knifes through the flesh of my back and separates my bones. As I begin coughing up blood, I think I have been stabbed, but then I feel his fingers move inside me. These long, cold digits wrap around my heart and squeeze it like a plum.

Pain? I am beyond it, but as I blink I learn the true error of my ways. The blue smoke has dissipated, and I see my formerly fallen peers partying in their normal fashion. You see; Iíve been duped! I sold my soul not for a magical gray log, but a blue hallucinogenic pill and a very short dance with the devil.





------
If you have no questions or fears about your abilities, then you will learn nothing from your mistakes and know nothing about your limitations.


Related Items

Comments

The following comments are for "Dance With The Devil"
by Richard Dani

Dance with the Devil
Totally gruesome, very entertaining and extremely easy to read,I was hooked from the beginning.

( Posted by: lala4nunu [Member] On: November 25, 2001 )

thanks
I appreciate your kind words, and I'm glad my story entertained you. I kinda wish I had toned down the sex a little bit, but...it still works. Thanks again.

( Posted by: Richard Dani [Member] On: November 25, 2001 )

Whoo.
Holy hoozeewhatzits! That was good!

( Posted by: Tyrant Monkey [Member] On: November 28, 2001 )

Whew!
Great story, but I'll never get the mental image of two people passionately eating each others' faces off from my mind now.

Munch, Munch, Munch, Munch....

( Posted by: Beckett Grey [Member] On: November 29, 2001 )

Did you say flesh Eating?
Thanks for the praise. But if you're a little squeamish, then stay away from feast of flesh. It's very nauseating Itchy, chewy flesh, yummy.



( Posted by: Richard Dani [Member] On: November 29, 2001 )

Nyar
Pfui.

I said I couldn't get it out of my mind.

Really, that's a complement. Really.

Now go read To Call a Demon, you sick bastard.

Whenever it gets posted...

( Posted by: Beckett Grey [Member] On: November 29, 2001 )





Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.


Username:
Password:
Subject:
Comment:





Login:
Password: