Something we started writing to chill out. A friend told us to submit so here we are
Alexis reached for her notepad, quill in hand. As she opened the leather bound capsule, she began rereading the previous weeks’ works. Flashes of images and choicely cut sentences play through her mind. In one such scene, she is standing in front of her self. All she sees is a look of disdain upon her face. Everything fades to black as she continues flipping through the blood soaked parchment, and a new image takes dominance. In this moment she is disembodied, no feeling of worldly connection surrounds Alexis, and she sees a shoulder leaking crimson. A deep primal hunger takes form, and then hunger gives way to shame. Shame towards feeling happy, shame towards wanting to be loved, and a nagging disgustedness that she has and is brought low by her emotions. She feels dirty, wrong for wanting anything, especially love. Her mind become erratic, changing the scene faster and faster, building to a crescendo she can’t avoid. It always ends the same. “I love you” Alexis whispers into her ear. And in that moment, she vanishes, and the scene changes to her watching a little girl in a turquoise dress running through a maze, scared to her wits end. Chasing her is a raging brute of a man, and in the girls mind is a little voice attempting to get everything together, but no one’s listening to it, and breaks the little girl into shattered glass, only to build her up and do it again. Alexis dips her quill into her ink pot, only to find it empty. Upon this predicament, Alexis rises from her desk, and reaches for her knife. A smooth, elegant, curved sickle like blade is in her hands, ink pot in the other. A slow, excruciating slice over her wrists, and she sees her own blood. That same deep hunger resurges, and she fails to supress it. Within moments, her mouth is clasped upon her wrist, drinking the fluid like a suckling deer. Still drinking, she slumps against her bed, addiction kicking in. mere seconds later, she feels tears tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Fifteen minutes later, she’s forgotten why she needs hers ink pot, her mind a crimson haze. As the bleeding stops, a weak “no’ escapes her throat. “No, don’t you stop. I need this” she whimpers quietly to herself, full of need and regret, whilst reaching for her knife. Before she can begin anew, there is a knock at her door. In a panic, she drops the ink pot and knife. “Shit!” she exclaims at the broken porcelain. “What was the Lexi?” a woman’s voice says from the other side of the door. “Sorry mum,” she replies hastily, wiping the blood off of her mouth and dragging the sleeve of her shirt down,” you just startled me and I dropped my ink pot. Come in” Alexis’s door swings open, and in front of her is a red haired woman in her thirties. “Lexi, are you doing anything tomorrow night?” her mother, Lindsey, asks. “Yeah, I’m going to Olivia’s remember?” Alexis states.
“That’s good, you should get out more,” her mother replies distractedly, exiting Alexis’s room. “Now where were we,” Alexis begins in a mumble, reaching for her knife. Within mere moments, the blade is kissing her pale flesh, reaping a new trail of blood in its wake. She places the knife upon her desk, reaching for perfume and earbuds. She unscrews the vial, and soaks the head in the sweet smelling liquid. As she wipes the bud across her cuts, the alcohol therein seeping into the fresh wounds, her breathing becomes hollow and laboured. Again she reaches for her knife, removes her shirts, leaving her arms cold and bare. With the knife in her left hand, she raises the blade to her right shoulder, and then begins carving slivers of her own flesh off, devouring them like a starving orphan would a five course meal, as her night becomes an investigation in carnal masochism.
Alexis stifles a scream as shampoo filled water cascades down her back, soaking into her knife marks and hashes. “Bitch,” she curses under her breath. She turns off the shower and dresses for school, then brews her morning coffee. “Mum?” Alexis yells, bringing the milk up the stairs with her. “Yes Lexi?” Lindsey replies groggily, rising from the couch. “Coffee?”
“You have to ask?”
“I’m on it.”
That afternoon, Olivia was in a mind state that could be only described as erratic. She could finally tell Alexis how she felt, but a million doubts plagued her mind. What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if she thinks I’m messing with her? Olivia’s mind began doing what it did best, it twisted things. She turned on her stereo, if only to cull her own inner dialogue. “I meant it when I said ‘I wanna get well,’” the speakers blare with a Titan’s voice. Despite the cacophony, the argument in her head rages on. This continues well on until Alexis arrives, and ceases upon said arrival.
Alexis pauses at the door, her fist an inch from knocking. ‘Are we sure we should tell her?’ one of the three other voices in her head begins. ‘Yes? No? Maybe?’ Another chimed. “Since when are we ever sure,” Alexis asks herself. ‘Never, you know this’ the last one retorts. “In that case,” Alexis starts out loud, “Fuck it, at least this way we have a modicum of control over the situation”
As Alexis walks into Olivia’s room, the two girls have the same thought, ‘Do I just tell her? No, not yet.’ “Hey Liv,” Alexis begins. “Hey… do you want a cup of coffee or something?” Olivia questions, rising off her bed.
“Yes please. Coffee is friend.”
“How do you have yours?” Olivia asks, catching a more than friendly glance over Alexis. ‘Oi, if you want that, you have to ask’ an annoying part of her mind chirped as she exits the spacious room. “Double strength, one sugar” Alexis replies, her mind playing her everything she wants Olivia to do to her, much to the dismay of a few of the women in her head. The girls finish their drinks, and Olivia’s eyes flick to the alcohol cabinet. “You know,” she begins suggestively, “My dad probably wouldn’t notice a few missing bottles, and he’s on late shift today.” Olivia nods towards the cabinet. ‘Getting her drunk probably won’t help the situation’ that same annoying section of her mind reminds her. “You’re sure your father won’t notice?” Alexis asks, staring at the cabinet like a jumping spider stalking prey. “Yeah. He only checks when he has to put stuff in it or if he has a date over, which is … almost never.”
“Really? Whatever booze is in my house is effectively logged and tagged. There’d be no way for me to sneak even a sip at my house.” Alexis states as she rinses her cup out. “Hey,” she questions, “how sharp do you think these knives are,” as she points to the knife block.
“Umm…” Olivia begins, unlocking the alcohol cabinet, “I sharpened them last week, so very” Again, Alexis’s mind plays back lewd and depraved scenes while she watches Olivia unlock the cabinet, her face as red as her hair.
“I didn’t know you liked knives Lex” Olivia remarks, brushing away her black hair as she places a full bottle of tequila on the table. “So… why does your dad have so much alcohol if he hardly drinks?” Alexis asks, placing two wine flutes on the table. “Well,” Olivia begins, unscrewing the bottle and pouring out two half glasses, “he won first prize for this work fundraiser thing, and some of it’s from my aunt, mostly because she leaves gifts until the last minute. So the only thing he’s actually bought himself there is a bottle of red wine”
“Ugh. Wine is disgusting” Alexis says, then presses the wine flute to her lips, and Olivia follows suit. As the tequila slides down both of the girls’ throats, both cough from the burning sensation.
30 minutes later, Olivia is grabbing a bottle of rum and a bottle of scotch, and is fumbling with the cabinet lock. Click. Olivia and Alexis head to Olivia’s room. “You know what,” Olivia hints, sitting against the headboard of her bed, “I really don’t know all that much about you. I want to change that. Let’s play truth or dare.”
“Umm… sure. I’ll start,” Alexis slurs “truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Olivia replies with the speed of a whip.
“Are you a virgin?”
“Yes. I haven’t found anyone I’d do that for yet. Ok, truth or dare?”
“Hmm… Dare”
“… Take … Off… your blouse” Olivia orders, emphasising each word.
“…Umm… Ok?” Alexis squeaks, unbuttoning her blouse, starting from the bottom and working her way up.
“You tease” Olivia complains like a five year old being denied a candy bar. As Alexis removes her blouse, Olivia notices hundreds of thousands of cuts and scars over her pale flesh. “Wha…” Olivia stammers, ‘So, is she like us?’ the voice in Olivia’s head asks. “I should just-”Alexis begins, but then is cut off. “No its ok.” Olivia removes her jumper, revealing arms covered in interlocking scars. “Just sit down” she rises, placing her hands on Alexis’s red raw shoulders. “Hiiiifff” Alexis hisses as Olivia’s sweaty palms rest upon the morning’s wounds. Olivia quickly jerks her hands upwards. “Sorry! Are you ok?” she blurts. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of you doing something like that to me” she whispers into Olivia’s ear, pulling her friends hands back upon her shoulders, embracing the pain. “Why do you think there are so many scars?” Alexis continues. “But that’s nothing compared to what I want to do to you,” she concludes, biting down on Olivia’s exposed neck, and is met with a cacophony of moans when she begins grinding her teeth against the tender flesh. Despite her best efforts however, Alexis doesn’t draw blood. She spins Olivia around, throwing her into the bed and leaning over her “where do you keep your blade?” she asks demandingly, blood from her shoulders dripping onto Olivia’s sizeable breasts. “Th-there” she stutters through a moan, pointing to a set of drawers on the other side of the room. “When I’m back, you better have yours up” Alexis whispers, and leaves for the knife. Olivia lays on her back, unclasping her bra. Alexis returns, a thin, straight blade in her hands. “I thought I told you to lay back up.” She orders. Olivia grabs Alexis by the shoulders, digging her thumbs into the gashes, pulling her head to her breasts. “Drink up.” Olivia whispers to a moaning and squirming Alexis, “Go on, pass me the knife,” she demands passively, rolling Alexis onto her back, Olivia on top of her. “My room, my rules,” she orders, running the knife along Alexis’s inner calf, drawing a river of blood from the pale flesh. Alexis begins breathing heavily. A wicked smile play across Olivia’s face as she notices Alexis moan and her eyes close. “You really wanted this didn’t you?” she whispers slyly in Alexis’s ear, dragging the knife higher up Alexis’s leg, until it hits her skirt. “Y-ye-yes,” Alexis stammers, fighting through pain and lust.
Olivia held Alexis’s arms above her head, pushing the woman against the wall, kissing her passionately. Olivia began slowly, excruciatingly dragging the knife down Alexis’s body, carving sigils into her breasts. The two girls stare into each other’s eyes, and Olivia blushes, then digs the knife into Alexis’s stomach and twists. Alexis’s breathing become heavy and fast as lust takes control. She moans as Olivia shoves her back against the wall, whispering “You’ve been a bad girl. It’s time you were punished.” Olivia’s hand releases Alexis’s arms, and finds the redhead’s neck. “Yes mistress,” Alexis screams as Olivia rakes her nails down her cuts, digging tearing while she laps at the blood like deer at a pond, knife on the floor in front of her. Olivia drags Alexis by the neck, knife in hand, and throws her to the ground in front of the door. She climbs on to Alexis, and begins driving the blade deeper into Alexis’s collar-bone region, and stops an inch from the hilt, the blade protruding above Alexis’s breast. “Oh gods we love you” Alexis manages to stammer, as she throws Olivia off of her and onto the bed, slowly removing the knife from under her collar bone. Momentarily, Alexis carves a mark of ownership into Olivia’s thigh, about ten centimetres from her vagina, a hatched Fleur-de-lis. She begins lapping up the blood, biting at the wound like a rabid animal. Olivia pulls Alexis away from the wound, much to the redhead’s dismay, and whispers “Why don’t you try something a little sweeter,” placing her hand under Alexis’s chin, bringing her in closer. “My safe word is blueberry,” Olivia whispers, bending to reach Alexis’s ear as she stares at Olivia’s clean shaven pussy.
Olivia’s legs were on Alexis’s shoulders as orgasm hit her like tonne of bricks, and she let loose a hungry moan as Alexis bit down on her clitoris, then began sawing at it with her teeth. “Huh… huh… B… Bl... Blueberry!” Olivia squealed through orgasm. “M... My t-turn,” Olivia pants, fumbling for the knife as Alexis removes her head from between Olivia’s legs, and kisses Olivia, her tongue probing deeply. Olivia’s hand finds the knife, and she rolls Alexis onto her back, growling like a tiger. Olivia flips the knife, her hand holding the blade, and whispers demandingly, “the only sounds I want out of you are moans and the words ‘yes Mistress’. Understood?”
“Yes Mistress” Alexis whimpers as Olivia drags the hilt of the knife up her leg, leaving a trail of Olivia’s blood along the way. Soon, Olivia begins slamming the hilt into Alexis, carving a deep slash in her own palm. “oh-oh-oh-oh- Ol-ii-vv-iaaaah” Alexis squeals as Olivia twists the knife when she reaches orgasm, sweat working its way in to the grooves left from earlier. “A-aa-again” Alexis pleads breathlessly.
“Well, aren’t we greedy? Maybe if you beg, I might think about it,” Olivia states, a cruel smile playing across her lips.
“Pleeeeaaassssee?” Alexis whines, the sheets sticking to her back.
“Please what?” Olivia asks, placing down the knife and licking her bloody palm.
“Please fuck me”
“Please fuck me, what?” Olivia whispers, walking her fingers up Alexis’s scarred stomach.
“Please fuck me, Mistress” She pleads.
“Oh… I don’t know,” Olivia begins, flicking Alexis’s clitoris, “you’re being very pushy. You know I don’t like it when you get pushy”
“Pleeeeaaassssee, Mistress?”
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Olivia whispers, stealing a kiss, then cups her hand and begins rubbing Alexis, “yes, Pet.”
Alexis wakes up to a blinding light, coming from the window above the bed on the other side of the room. Holding onto her is Olivia, face blissful, a complete contrast to the blade in her left hand. Alexis lays there, surrounded by a pool of blood and a few empty bottles. She lays there, waiting for Olivia to rise, not wanting the moment to end. “Light bad” Olivia murmurs, turning her face into Alexis’s stomach. As Olivia snuggles in closer, Alexis studies the scars lacing the girl’s back. After semi-careful study, Alexis gazes around the room, and notices the blood stains on the bed, and her clothes strewn across the floor. While this occurs, Olivia removes herself from Alexis, and scans the room. “Did we do what I think we did last night,” Olivia asks groggily. “Well,” Alexis manages to slur, “I’d say the scars on our backs are a pretty sure sign, Mistress.” Olivia scans the room, her mind still a crimson haze. “Did... You did bring spare clothes right?” she yawns, the fugue slowly relinquishing under the weight of the morning light and the tastes of blood and mucus. “Yeah. Mum seemed like she wanted me out of the house for the night,” Alexis slurs, rising and licking the blood off of her body. “How do we taste together?” Olivia probes, helping Alexis out of the pool of blood.
“Why don’t you taste for yourself?” Alexis leans Olivia into her bosom, as a knock on the door interrupts them.
“Olivia? You up?” A man’s voice calls from the other side of the door.
“Uhh… don’t come in, I’m getting dressed!” Olivia yells, thoroughly startled. “Get in the closet,” she whispers to Alexis, throwing a black blanket over the pool of blood. “You can come in now,” Olivia shouts, dressed in black jeans and dark blue long sleeved under shirt. From cabinet’s key-hole, Alexis sees a short, viking-esque man enter Olivia’s room. “Moring sweetie,” the man says, giving Olivia hug, his head at her shoulder height. “Morning daddy”
“You sure you don’t have anything… less Goth to wear?” Olivia’s father, David asks, his hand reaching for the closet door, covering the Key-hole in the process. ‘Well, we’re boned’ all three voices in Alexis’s head state unanimously.
“Alexis?” David states, dumbstruck. He whirls around, and embraces Olivia, lifting her off the ground. “Sweetie, why didn’t you tell me you were gay?”
“Blueberry!” Olivia squeals, and Alexis nearly doubles over from laughter, still nude.
“What?” David questions, putting Olivia down. “Wait, I don’t think I want to know. I’ll go make breakfast, you two make your selves look decent.”
To Be Continued… Maybe