David Doc Byron


Part 1#
The sign outside the window flashed like a heartbeat, pumping red, neon light like hot
blood into the dingy room, arousing Leo from his fitful slumber.
The light seemed to take on an almost liquid quality, seeming to lap at the edge of the bed like a hungry
tongue. The walls began to dissolve into red lquid pools, leaving the sign hanging for a moment in time
flashing Cafe Purgatory, before it suddenly vanished like a wisp of smoke in a high wind.
Leo Wolfe felt the dirty, sweat stained bed bobbing up and down, awash in an ocean of blood and entrails
that stretched unbroken to the horizon under a pitch black sky.
Suddenly, a small, frail man with deep set, obsidian eyes rose up naked from the vile ocean of blood
to stand beside the bobbing bed. He smiled, revealing yellowed teeth stained with blood. Dark things played
in the liquid at his grimy feet. He was erect, and tugging at himself with his gnarled fingers like a curious
''You want the bitch?'' he asked Leo, in a voice like steel ringing under the blows of a hammer. He
pointed a gnarled finger at the far wall, where the hooker that Leo had picked up earlier was splayed on the
wall crucifixion style, her hands and feet held in place on the cheap plaster with steel spikes. Blood dripped
from her wounds and pooled at her feet. Her eyes, opened wide in horror, stared out at nothing, her bloody
maw of a mouth agape and silent. ''She is yours, sinner, if you can make it past me to the other side.''
The bloody ocean at their feet hissed now, evaporating in an odorous cloud until a vast and barren
landscape appeared before them. Two of the dark things at the frail man's feet suddenly scurried across the
landscape to retrieve what seemed to be a large tarpaulin, rolled up like a rug. It was stained with blood, and
reeked of decay, death.
They dragged the thing back to the edge of Leo's bed, and tugged at the ends of it so it unrolled
toward Leo's feet.
The last hooker Leo had picked up - Laura was her name if she'd been telling the truth - lay inside the
rug, dismembered, eviscerated. Her limbless torso flopped once, like a beached whale seeking water,
releasing the viscera across the rug with a wet, slapping sound. Leo felt as though he'd vomit, but held it
back, swallowing hard and grimacing. What he was seeing couldn't be possible.
Severed hands clutched at thin air, the fingers grasping to nothing. bone gleamed white at the hacked
joints. Disembodied feet danced around the torso in a death waltz. Her long, raven hair was bloody and
matted against the head that rolled over to stare at him with empty, cavernous eye sockets, her lips parted,
the thick, blackened tongue pressing against her blood encrusted teeth.
Leo thought he could hear her death throes echoing in his head, an inhuman wailing cry that tore away at
his cramping bowels like a cancer of pain.
''I can put her back together for you, Leo,'' the man said, taunting Leo with false hope. ''But, as I say,
first, you must pass by me unscathed, to the other side. There, your lovers will be waiting for you. In one
piece, that is. They will still be cunts.''
But Leo wasn't listening to anything but the desperate sound of his own anguished cry as the swarm of
greenback flies began to gather around the remains of his dead lovers. His own crying, like a child
whimpering in the darkness of a closet, seemed to echo in the cheap motel room as Leo watched a bloody
sunset spraying over the frozen wasteland of the city outside the window. In the middle of it all, the neon
puncuated the darkness, flashing, flashing, flashing..........
''Welcome to the Cafe Purgatory,'' the small man said, finally ejaculating onto the bloody floor. His
sperm swam through the crimson tide like bloody tadpoles. ''Let the games begin.''
Leo screamed, but the echoes fell on deaf ears.
As he awoke again, sunlight had made an oven of the small motel room, and broiled his
naked skin to a dry, itching, prickly texture as he lay, once again, on the sweat stained mattress.
He blinked himself awake, moving his aching body experimentally, then climbed out of bed. The old
floorboards seemed to slither beneath his feet like snakes, but he kept his balance and stepped toward the
middle of the room.
All of the blood and entrails and body parts were gone.
It had been a dream, after all.
Feeling strangely confident, knowing that even within a dream, a dream couldn't really hurt him, he
walked to the bathroom door and opened it.
As he entered the small, cramped bathroom, he noticed it was alive with the stench of stagnant water. As
he stepped in further, the air in the tub enclosure suddenly darkened and congealed, as though the air itself
had gathered to form a shape behind the shower curtain.
He took a deep breath, exhaled, and yanked the curtain back hard.
It was Laura, the hooker who'd been torn apart in his dream. Her skin was gray and shrunken against her
bones, mummifying her as she hung like a side of beef from the shower faucet by one of her nylons tied
around her neck. He reached out to touch her, to help her, as the nylon twisted slightly, turning her body
toward him as it toppled like a falling tree in a storm.
''Laura!!'' he cried out, catching the corpse by the shoulders, pushing it back to a standing position. The
skin crumbled in his grasp, shredding away from her brittle bones as she slipped toward him through his
arms. ''I love you,'' she whispered through her lipless mouth as he circled her with his arms, her parchment
dry skin floating into the air like dust mites, swarming around them like flies.
Then suddenly, the body crumbled in his grasp, bone seperating from bone to clatter to the wet
floor, leaving him alone again.
He didn't like being alone; he never had, never would. But, he would have to admit, loneliness did make
the heart grow fonder, and the sex better.
''Nobody can hurt us now,'' he whispered to her remains, as he awoke on the dirty
mattress once again, this time to find himself stroking his penis, fantasizing about Laura.
Outside the window, the neon sign hung dark and lightless and soiled with ancient pigeon
droppings, and he realized with terrifying clarity that this time it wasn't a dream.
It never had been.
''I just can't seem to make you understand, can I?'' a voice asked Leo as he opened his
eyes. Leo sat bolt upright in bed, searching for the source of the voice.
The small man from his first dream, the bloody, naked man, stood before Leo's bed, smiling and tugging
at himself again with his fingers. He was erect, his testicles swollen to the size of grapefruit. He reeked of
sweat and sex, mingled with traces of urine, stale blood. ''I mean that remark in a most complimentary way,''
he continued. ''You have seemed to develop a very strong sense of - how should I put it - of.....reality, I
think. I can't seem to fool you anymore, even make you break a sweat.''
''Why are you here?'' Leo asked, lighting a cigarette. The tendrils of smoke rising from the cigarette's
tip resembled skeletal arms reaching for the ceiling. ''What do you want? Why are, in the
daylight, out of my dreams?''
''Daylight?'' the man laughed, still stroking himself. His face was beet red from the furious movement of
his hand. ''I have no restrictions on me, Leo. No fear of the sun or it's rays of light. I'm not a vampire, Leo. ''
''You still haven't answered my question.''
''What do I want?''
''Yes, that one.''
The small man's face suddenly grew even redder, his eyes squinting, his jaws clenched tight. He
came, spurting it all over the floor again. The slimy little tadpole like sperm slithered away like tiny snakes,
hiding under Leo's bed. ''Nice room, eh?'' The small man had changed the subject.
''I'm not interested in talking about the decor,'' Leo snarled, rising from the bed and stepping toward the
man. ''I want to know why you're here, and what you want. Or do I have to wring your scrawny neck to get a
''Oh no, no,'' the man said, his eyes wide, feigning fear. ''Physical violence won't be necessary. Okay,
Leo, let's get to the point at hand.''
''Go ahead,'' Leo said, stubbing out his cigarette.
''All right, here goes. Now, you are a ladies man, am I correct?''
Leo seemed to blush from embarrassment. ''A ladie's man? Aw...I wouldn't say that....even though I'll
have to admit, I've had my share of sex in my lifetime. Nothing long term, mind you, just one night stands.
But yes, I guess you could call me a ladie's man of sorts. As far as sexual experience is concerned, anyway.''
The small man cracked a dirty grin, winked at Leo. ''I thought as much. A real Studly Hungwell, a
real Long Dong Leo. The man with the plan and the meat to back it up. So, Leo, was it all worth it? The
sex, I mean. The constant and neverending urge for sexual gratification, ejaculation, etc., etc.? No....I
wouldn't call you a ladie's man, Leo. I'd call you a sexual addict. A sexual predator. You are a sexual
deviant, Leo, and you just cannot get enough. That's your biggest drawback in life, Leo. That's what brought
me here, to propose a business deal with you.''
Leo was tiring of this charade quickly; he was annoyed with the whole thing, tired and stiff from
sleeping on the dirty, stained, hard packed mattress, sick of nasty dreams and taunting little naked men who
stroked themselves constantly. ''I have no business to attend to with you,'' he said, lighting another cigarette.
''Understand me, you half pint pud puller? Now, what I want is some sleep, some real sleep, and then to go
home.'' Leo started for the door.
''Yes....'' the little man said, in a low, hoarse whisper. ''Some sleep...and another chance to dream....?''
Leo stopped dead in his tracks, turning to look in the little man's eyes. ''Fine....say your
piece and get it over with. I'm a busy man.''
The little man cracked an evil grin. ''Yes...I'm sure you are. Got to get busy looking for that next,
special I right? Your biggest fantasy, that special lady you're always dreaming about, fantaszing
about, as you walk around 24-7 with a perpetual hardon? The one you can never seem to find, though?''
This isn't a dream, Leo thought. Dear God.....this is real. Where am I? In some kind of pervert's
''Okay,'' Leo said, ''Go on.''
''It's very simple, really. All you have to do is get past me, to the other side. To reality. I will tease you,
taunt you with the most delicious and sexually drgrading acts of perversity imaginable, and all you have to
do to get past me, to your freedom, is ...........resist.''
''Resist temptation?'' Leo asked, already feeling nervous. ''Well...I...okay, then. You're on.''
''Splendid! Oh, by the way, though. There is one catch to our agreement.''
''Which is?''
''If you get past me, you get to keep all of the women you've ever fucked, and all in one piece. They'll be
yours forever, to keep for your own private pussy stash. Is a chance at that kind of pleasure not worth taking
the risk, Leo?''
It didn't take leo long to answer. '''s not too much to ask at all.''
''I thought as much. Now....shall we begin?''
''Ready,'' Leo said, as the little man's face melted away from the bone, his eyes bursting in their sockets, fat
black spiders crawling from the sockets and across the ruined face. The hideous jaw flopped open, and
hundreds of death's head moths flew from the black maw.
''BOO!!'' It said, and disappeared in a gale of eerie laughter.
Sinners part 4#
THEN, suddenly, all went black around leo, and he felt himself falling.
The air clotted around Leo, drawing in tight against his face, taking his breath away. A pulse, like the
movement of time as a physical sensation, the throb of the earth itself revolving, shook him, vibrating his
bones together as he felt himself falling..........
.......then a voice, the voice of the small man coming out of the darkness around him; ''You want them? You
want the bitches? Okay, lover boy....come and get them!''
......and falling into soudlessness, falling into maybe death itself like an old friend, or lover, warm and
intoxicatingly beautiful.
He'd stopped falling now, standing in a deep, damp, concrete chamber. The small man stood close by,
guarding the only door, looming over it like a gargoyle over a dark cathedral.
Then he saw the women. All of the women he'd ever known, all of them naked, all of the women he'd
ever fucked or used or lied to, all of them sprawled out inside a huge, round, dungeon chamber.
Their legs were shackled, pulled up into the air and spread wide, exposing their sex. Their hands had
been left unshackled, free to move. Free to touch, caress, to stroke or squeeze or milk.
To taunt and tease. To TEMPT.
They all stared him down with dark, lifeless eyes, their hungry mouths open, their tongues lolling,
salivating. He saw Laura there, limbs and guts intact, burning holes into his soul with her eyes.
She lowered her hand down between her legs, began stroking her dripping cooze. Leo stood watching
this in lustful awe, feeling himself getting hard, feeling the life long desire to hunt and capture and conquer
his women then toss them aside like discarded trash returning once again.
Now...he had the chance to do it all over again, every one of them, every one.............
............but knew he could not; for he would be trapped inside his own private hell forever, with the small,
naked man looming over him like a vulture, just waiting to take Leo's libido away from him. He could see
that the little man was inept, inadequate when it came to sex, and needed a man like Leo to use as a
concubine, a flesh and blood portal into the world the little man has so long wanted to enter.
The world of fresh meat; a purgatory of pussy, dead or alive. It didn't matter to him; he was just tired of
being the overseer of this world, wanted to be a participant, or maybe even King of this domain.
Leo stood watching, tempted beyond all comprehension, beyond all imagination, but stood his
ground. He willed his throbbing member to go limp, which it did. He'd trained it well.
Then, as he thought he'd won his first victory, the little man walked over to one of the shackled women,
pulled out a set of keys from behind his back, and unlocked her chains, setting her free. She scurried over to
Leo on her hands and knees, her mouth open, her tongue lolling like a thirsty dog.
Eyes clenched tightly shut, Leo prayed; Just hold it can do it............
........then began breathing in gasps, swearing in a low whisper, willing himself to just hold back.....don't
give in.......
.........but it was too late.
The woman, a tall, lanky blond with huge but firm breasts swinging like pendulums, stopped at
his feet, licking his toes, then began working her way up to his inner thighs , to his penis, which was now
beginning to swell , throb, almost pulsate......
No!! he thought defiantly. I can't do this! Help me, God. Please help me....I know I don't have any right
to ask you for anything, but please......HELP ME!!!!!
By then, though, in the small amount of time it had taken him to open his eyes, look down,
she already had him in her mouth, her hands firmly planted around his swelling, boiling testicles, and was
swallowing the length of him, the mushroom shaped tip lodged in the back of her throat, gagging her, but
she didn't flinch, just sucked.
NO!! he thought. I can't do this.....I can't.....please...make them stop.....STOP!!!
He felt himself beginning to lose the game, feeling weak in the knees, his throbbing member ready to
explode, as more of the necro-nymphs were unshackled, crawling toward him, awaiting their turn.... he fell to his knees now, closing his eyes, letting it happen, giving in, like he knew he would.
Like all sinners do.
They encircled him, reaching out, touching, rubbing, stroking, licking, sucking. He felt himself being
lowered on to his back, as the world around him went dark, his eyes blinded by a woman's cooze as it
lowered on to his face, smothering him with soft, black pubic hair and wet skin. Another engulfed his rod,
riding it like a bucking bronco. Hungry tongues lapped at his balls, fingers probed bodily orifices.
His bowels let go at the same time as his balls, bathing the nymph's faces and breasts with the hot, salty
juices that his dreams, his fantasies had been made of, for so long, it seemed like a lifetime now; it had
The small man, still naked and bloody, stepped closer now, his face glowing red, his eyes gleaming with
the light of victory. He tugged at himself frantically now, not wanting to waste the moment, his firey jizz
burning Leo's facial skin like hot tar, the small, tadpole like sperm slithering down his face and neck and
chest, and into the small opening at the end of his infamous penis.
No....he thought, as the foreign sperm began to fertilize his inner workings. NO!! I repent!! The sinner
repents!! I REPENT!!!!
But he sought redemption to no avail. The evil sperm coarsed through his guts, his veins, his brain; his
very soul, as it did it's dirty work, fertilizing his sac with new DNA, the DNA that would produce more
seedlings just like him; inhuman sex machines. Heartless, mindless, sexual predators with no regard for
another's feelings, except to make them scream his name. The name of their father.
Yes.....Leo was going to be reborn.
As the small man, the keeper of the Cafe Purgatory, would be reborn as well.
The King of his domain; The Prince of Pussy, the KIng of Come.
Leo managed to scream one last time, as his genitalia swelled to grotesque proportions,
swelling...swelling...ready to burst like a water balloon pricked with a pin. His enormous appendage
exploded, blossoming with the red-white, life-giving juices that he'd held so dear to his heart in life, as long
as they weren't his own to shed. His heart gave out as well, his brain drowning in the memories of sin.
The small man cackled with gleeful delight.
The nymphs had their fill.
The lights behind Leo's eye went out.
And the sign outside the Cafe Purgatory flashed like a heartbeat, pumping red light like hot blood
into the dingy, dark, cold dungeon chambers, drying up the pools of blood.
It flashed; Cafe Sinner...Cafe Sinner....Cafe Sinner.....
..........and then:
purgatory island
Lucretia McEvil awoke to a silence more eerily profound than any she'd ever
She felt as though she'd slept for days, and wasn't even sure if it was morning or afternoon.
She got up shakily, aching in every limb of her heat stroked body, and stared in awe around her.
She stood in a stifling forest of dead and leafless trees. The ground was covered with red sand, strewn with
what appeared to be the small, black, withered carcasses of dead monkeys, and pieces of shed snakeskin.
Suddenly, one of the monkeys rose up on it's haunches, scratching it's ass and smiling at her, then
spewed forth a gush of dark tinted blood from it's grinning maw.
This place is acursed, she thought. It would be better to die in the relentless heat of the desert than in this
oasis of hellish abominations.
The grinning beast now scurried closer, clapping it's paws roboticly like a child's toy, it's bloody maw
still dripping blood. As she started to back away toward the edge of the oasis, toward the desert, the hellish
little furry imp stopped, and spoke to her with the vocal tone of a neutered goat.
''Is Hell not more beautiful than Heaven?'' it asked, still grinning.
She shook her head, as such thoughts confused her right now. She was too tired from her listless,
nightmarish slumber to think clearly. ''What....what are you?'' she asked the beast.
''I am Scratch,'' it said, itching itself again. Smoke rose up from it's backside. ''The keeper of the island.''
''Island?'' she asked, even more confused than before. ''I see no water surrounding us.'' She glanced around at
the empty dunes outside.
''There is no water for sinners,'' it said with a deep throated growl. ''Only fire and blood. Are you not a
sinner? A prostitute of the foulest nature? A jizz guzzling gutter slut?!''
She felt her blood run cold. ''Am I in Hell?''
It did not answer, only prepared itself for the task at hand.
As she watched in horror, it began to change; the bloody, grinning maw formed a rictus of razor teeth.
It's arms and legs turned into six spider's legs, furry and knobby with protruding pitchforks of black bone.
It's eyes, once coal black, were now glowing red orbs of fire.
She turned to run, and fell into water.
Nice, cold, fresh water. She came up gasping for breath, to see the beast was gone. After drinking her
fill and bathing her molten hot skin, she climbed from the sea blue pool and started walking toward the
desert outside, knowing now it had all been a bad dream. The john getting mad at her asking price, slicing
her throat. The cold feeling of the alleyway concrete against her backside as she lay bleeding.
The monkey-thing.
She walked on in the heat, knowing she'd wake up soon, and suddenly felt something wet and warm
bathing her neck and chest. She looked down to see fresh blood streaming from her nightmare neck wound.
The island! she thought. I must get back to the island! The....water! The water must give life...rejuvenate
the dead! The monkey tricked me!!!
She turned around to run, to stop dead in her tracks. Behind her, as far as the eye could see, was nothing
but a vast, empty desert of swirling red sand and pools of liquid fire.
The sinner saw no sign of any island.
The structure at first glance resembled a haunted castle in one's own
I had originally come to the Bed and Breakfast seeking only solitude;
then once seeing the lovely Adriana, it seemed as though I'd come here
for her only.
Fathomless, velvety eyes that hypnotized me; mesmerized me, absorbing
all my willpower and making me her love slave. It was hard for me to believe
she was a lowly housemaid. I fantasized, yes; but inexplicably, I dreamt of
blood and cobwebs.
Her eyes appeared as deep, dark pools of running water, yet they filled
me with fire and deprived me of strength. It was a rapid, distracting and
devouring infatuation that literally possessed me; I followed her around like
a puppy dog, every night dreaming of her arms around me and her long raven
hair enveloping us both like an inky cloud, as I lay there supine and helpless.
I had become enchanted too quickly; my disenchantment came as rapidly,
long before the poison left my blood.
I had a ghastly dream one night; I had seen a monster bat with the face
and long tresses of Adriana, fly into my open window and fasten it's sharp
white teeth and scarlet lips on my arm, biting down and sucking thirstily.
I tried to wish the horror away, but was so mesmerized with drowsy delight
by the creature sucking my blood with a gruesome rapture.
She had bitten a little too deeply that night, unaware that I had not yet
tasted the crimson drug myself. As I woke I saw her fully revealed within
the beams of the midnight moon, her long raven hair hanging loose over her
tiny frame like a black death shroud, her bloody lips glued to my arm.
With a shriek of horror I pushed her away, getting one last glimpse of
her savage eyes and bloody fangs as I rushed out into the night, running
aimlessly into the darkness, now nothing but a nocturnal wanderer myself.
My mind racing with fear, my heart consumed by fear and hatred, I hadn't
realized I hadn't been running at all, but flying, my huge wings casting eerie
shadows against the moon.......
.......and below me, in the land of the undead, two ghastly figures; one a
faceless man, the other Adriana, lying together inside a large, ancient casket,
red horror frozen on their faces, arms interlocked and veiled over with
EDWARD loved swimming in the murky green water, imagining all sorts of things.
He dived in, his body slipping into it's usual movements. He looked down playfully for
his own shadow and thought he saw out of the corner of his eye a swirling movement in
the depths, a shadowy coiling.
He heard a rippling sound of movement, turned his head to see he was swimming along
side a long, thick green - yellow snake with blazing red eyes. This did not alarm him,
because he both believed and disbelieved his senses when he was swimming. He liked to
imagine a snake; he liked snakes.
Sometimes he swam at night, and one night he saw a snake like no other snake he'd ever
seen before; long, thin, velvety black with long bars of crimson, and emerald eyes. It
appeared to dim and brighten and breathe under the deep water, then suudenly change
colors, from black and crimson to yellow green then back again, like a chameleon.
Many men would have run away screaming in terror, but what Edward saw was a
nocturnal solution to a seemingly endless problem.
The strange creature watched him for a moment, then opened it's mouth, which was full
of small, even, pearly human teeth.
Between these protruded a flickering, dark forked tongue, entirely serpentine.
Edward felt a strange sense of deja'vu; the creature merely sighed.
Then it spoke.
It spoke in a strangely familiar voice, slurred but comprehensible.
''I am so unhappy,'' it said.
''I am so sorry for you,'' Edward said, treading water, feeling slick black coils against his
naked legs, a tail-tip across his shrunken groin.
''You are a beautiful man,'' said the snake in a lanquishing, female voice.
''You are a very beautiful snake,'' Edward replied courteously, watching the creature's
absurd eyelashes dip and lift.
''I am not really a snake. I am also an enchanted spirit.''
''Spirit?'' Edward inquired, now enthralled.
''Yes. But if you kiss my mouth, I will become a beautiful woman, and if you marry me, I
will be eternally faithful, and you will gain an immortal soul.''
Now apprehensive, Edward began floating away, distangling his legs from the black
''You do not believe me,'' it said. ''You find my present form too loathsome to touch. But
please......I love you, Edward. I love and cherish your every movement, your powerful
body, I'd do anything for you.''
''Anything?'' Edward asked.
''Yes, anything. Ask me. Do not reject me, Edward.''
''And if I do?''
''Then you will become horribly tormented forever,'' it said. ''My teeth,'' it told him,
''will be lovely within rosy lips, my eyes melting and mesmerizing in a human face. Kiss
me, Edward, and you will see.''
Suddenly, Edward remembered where he had, so to speak, heard the creature's voice
It had been several months before, on one of his rare trips into the city. He'd been
standing outside one of the local pubs talking to a friend, when a prostitute had
approached them, heckling Edward about his taste in clothing.
A ghastly looker she'd been; all false teeth and eyelashes, pock marked skin and a
skeletal frame. It had reminded him of his own reflection in the murky green water.
He'd found her repulsive, and had sent her on her way, all the while the vile creature
spouting curses at him, upon him.
A gypsy whore; a witch.
He looked back at her now, her beseeching eyes horrible, her snake face peering at him
sadly. Playing upon his vulnerability, a ploy for sympathy.
''I am so sad,'' she said, her oval eyes welling with crocodile tears. ''I want to be a
Edward smiled; a terrible, secret smile. ''You will see now how much pain I have
suffered, since you cursed me.''
The creature had fooled him as well; it smiled as well, a smile of triumph, as it swam
away quickly, disappearing forever into the murky depths of the lake.
It was only then did he realize how much he enjoyed swimming in the murky green
water, letting his imagination run wild, and, if only for a brief moment in time, feeling



Copyright © 2007 David Doc Byron
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