The train was sliding on the rails like a dizzy snake.
Outside - roads, buildings, trees, people. Nothing seemed to ever be changing in this world. Especially people. He knew that much. There is always a pattern towards their innermost desires and motives. All one has to do is find the right buttons to push and he could end up with an inflatable rubber doll to push around as he wishes.
He spotted her sitting by the window two seats ahead. He reflected himself in the window's glass. Hair neat, outfit cool, stare unavoidable. He brushed his pointy goatee a bit with his fingers and winked at his image once. With a casual pace he reached her seat and sat right next to her. Her skin glowed in the spots the sun reached with a pale white. It seemed firm, but soft, and he knew it was the kind that left the red palm marking on the buttocks, when she's all bent on four. Her eyes were big and blue and fixed on his elusive stare.
“Can you hold my hand? I'm afraid of air pockets.” he said.
She smiled. That was good. A smile always goes a long way and it was quite the distance till they reached the city.
“What's your name beautiful?” said the guy and looked right into her eyes.
“What's your name beautiful?” said the guy and looked right into her eyes.
“Sally.” she replied and blushed a little.
He liked trains. You get to meet all these new and voluptuous people, plus it's the safest means of transport. Getting-laid-wise.
Later that night he horizontalized himself next to her, in her double, feather filled mattress with the turquoise sheets. Her breasts seemed quite smaller now that she was all down to her skin and he knew what to blame. Those god damn push-up bras. There should be a penalty to every woman who's bra is actually bigger than the boob itself. That's so cunning and misleading! It's evil, with the full meaning of the word, how females use illusion to manipulate a male's instincts, just to boost their vanity. If he was king or something in this whats-its-name place, he would forbid bras all together. What you see is what you get. There. Fair. Not that it mattered most of the times, but point had to be made.
At any rate, he fucked her brains out.
She was screaming his name, or what she thought his name was, over and over again like in a cultist ritual. “Jonathan! Oh Jonathan!” At some point, while he was taking her from behind, he looked out of the window to the car lights down bellow and his thought drifted. What it would be like, if a demon named Jonathan did exist and with all that yelling and pleading she managed to summon him in that very bedroom. Never seen a demon, he wasn't quite sure if he believed in them. Of course, he had read about pentagrams painted with blood on the floor, or poultry slain in the name of the dark lord, and he'd also heard of candles. Yes, candles were fundamental to every ritual, everyone knew that. Fortunately, he saw no candles around - the only light in the room was coming from a table lamp with a big red lampshade sat by the bedside. The realization of the table lamp made him lose his train of thought. He got his shit together and finished his job, on her ass.
He wasn't that much of a good looking man, but he had his ways around people. Ladies in particular. He had that curious charm that seemed to pull others to him, an unidentified quality of some sort and whenever he got the chance, he would exploit it to the fullest.
“I love you.” she said and rested her head on his chest. “Do you love me?” She looked up at him.
“Look Sally.” he said. “Do you know what I love?”
“Uh-uh.” The girl shook her head and her velvet hair tickled his belly.
“I really do love kites. All about them, I fancy. I love making them, I love flying them and I love how they fill the sky with bright colors. Kites are awesome! But even though I love them, I wouldn't cry myself dead if they were to die horribly in the branches of an evil fucking tree. I would be a bit sad, but that's it. And you know why? Because love is a very vague word and can be used for several reasons. But where it puzzles more is when shared between people. That's where it takes all completely different proportions. And what if you say in love? Two letters in front of that troubling word can change the whole spectrum of meanings it can contain. Being in love, is making a fool of yourself for someone you say you care so much, mostly just to make them care more about yourself. I've seen friends turn into total vagina-zombies and so called professors act like dribbling baboons just to get into some woman’s pants. And yeah I love what we have here. It sure is a lovely situation we got ourselves into. In fact I’m so liking it that I’m going to check the fridge for some leftover spring-rolls to celebrate. Hungry?”
The girl looked at him puzzled as he got up and headed towards the kitchen.
He looked around him, scanning the place for his belongings. The place was a mess, he noticed and couldn't help the smug look of satisfaction on his face. All his glorious doing, like a true son of Dionysus, like a satyr luring girls in his love brace, a seducer making his way through the bosoms and the fannies by cunning use of charm and tale. Quietly, he grabbed his coat and pants and gnashed his teeth to avoid making noise while opening the kitchen window.
That was a close one, he said to himself as he climbed down the fire escape. Kite bit still works. What a crazy bitch. He put his hands in his pockets and started to whistle as he followed the lamppost caravan back to his place.
The hour was late when he arrived outside of his apartment. He was going to make a sandwich and take a relaxing bubble bath, or the other way around and then take a nice nap. Searching for the keys in his pocket, he didn't notice the tall figure waiting in the shadows beside the door. At the realization of the presence, he jumped and took two big steps backwards. “Who's there?” he asked and took a closer look. A large toothy grin flashed and a heavy breath come out of it. This could not be true.
It was demon fucking Jonathan!
“Hey kid, you think you're bad?”,said Jonathan with a soothing voice. The guy was staring at him with his facial characteristics frozen into a mask of terror. “I'll tell you what's bad. Let me picture you what I did to my last girlfriend. After the first time I fucked her, I went in her bathroom and took a giant shit in her tub. Doors open and all, to let the odors out. I didn't care. Too much beer and chili con carne the night before made it one deadly skunk job, no shit. Well, I mean yes shit, but you get the point. So, I let her come in and watch me in a state of total rectal meditation. First date now, the girl has freaked, she runs around the house screaming and cursing the whole world male population.”
He put his hand in his coat and took out a gray leather tobacco pouch. He took his time to roll a cigarette, light it up and took a big smokey breath.
“Later she forgave me and said that she saw my qualities later on, cause I was not all that bad and now she really loved me. Even though I had that bad male habit of shitting - her exact words. Like she never took a stinky dung in her life.” He flicked the ashes from the tip of his cigarette on the purple welcome mat. He continued.“Well, I showed her my qualities and dumped her. The bitch made me eat soybean meatballs and salad for crying out loud! Every fucking Thursday! Can you believe that shit? Well, I'm a free man and I enjoy beef as the next non-Indian person.”
The guy couldn't believe in his eyes. The whole scene was like it came out of some surrealistic nightmare. He couldn’t move his legs and his eyes were fixed on the enigmatic demonic smile. Jonathan let the cigarette butt fall and stepped on it with his boot. A smell of burned linoleum reached their nostrils, as a pretty permanent stain appeared on the mat.
“Now go back to that nice lady and apologize, or I will cut your balls off and make HER eat them! Because evil makes no discrimination.” said Jonathan and begun to laugh, with his evil demon voice so loud, that woke up Mr. Jibbles, the cranky old bastard from apartment four, who took two shots at him with his shotgun.
Did he get hit? A distant voice was reaching his ears, getting gradually louder. “Johnathan! Oh Johnathan!” The girls voice continued to beg. He was still in her bedroom looking at the traffic lights down below. He turned his gaze at the bedside table. No lamp there. Just a fat, melted, purple candle.
After a while they lied next to each other, silent, looking at the ceiling.
“I like you”, said Sally. “Do you like me?”
“Of course I do”, said the man.
He got up and headed for the kitchen.
“Hey babe, do you mind if I just crash over to my house tonight? Got this thing tomorrow morning” , he said after having found nothing worthwhile feeding on inside the fridge. They sat and watched a film together. He couldn't remember which on the way home. Later on he left her house saying he would call her tomorrow.
The hour was late when he reached his apartment. As he searched for his keys in his pocket, he felt something on the tip of his fingers. He reached inside and as he pulled his keyring out, a small blob of something fell on the purple welcome mat. He bent over and picked it up - it was solid but pliable – a little piece of wax. Casually he made it into a ball and thew it away on the street. Then, he opened the door and entered his apartment with only sandwiches on his mind.
He didn't even notice the tall figure waiting in the shadows beside the door.