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Hunting The Ghost Lion by Wolfa An African poacher stalks a trophy lion through the savannah and encounters a strange an... [2,146 words]
When Machines Bleed by Mark Brittan All season long, the Sterling Heights Stevenson Titans High School football team had been r... [3,286 words]
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The Perfect Snow Angel by Wolfa - [1,754 words]
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Another Night At The Club,,,,,
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TITLE (EDIT)
Another Night At The Club,,,,,
DESCRIPTION
How much would a person do for one moment of power, for one brief second of exhiliration, and take the chance of going too far...
[651 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Suspense
AUTHOR
Kristina Tonic
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
No one will ever know...
[March 2001]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
[email protected]
Another Night At The Club,,,,,
Kristina Tonic

The music was pounding away in my ear, much like a psychotic,native boy pounding on his freshly made drum, would sound like. The slew of bright laser lights danced on the wall i was pressed against. I must admit there was not a relaxed nerve in my body, mostly because my muscles craved space to move, or atleast my lungs felt they had the right to breath something other than a misty cloud of Marboro light. I remember my heart about to burst out of my chest in despiration, for at the time I was still learning to cope with my clasterphobia. The crowd was full of lost souls, overweight house wives cheating on their unsespecting husbands, teenage girls attempting to raise their self esteem by having thirty year old truckers look down their shirts. Yes it was another night at the club, my mind continued to rifle for an excuse for my being here. I despised the the roaring beat box, some call music, vibrating through my veins. The vomit inducing look of sleezy mid-aged women dressed in halter tops, revealing their large, baboon like bellies, covered in thick hair, you thought you would only witness while watching the discovery channel.
Finally a path was paved for me in the crowd, allowing me to move from my unconfortable corner, and made my way to the bar.
I knew it was wrong to be here, i should have been at home, helping my son with his homework, hearing about my wife's terrible day at work, but i wasn't. Instead i decided to roll the dice, make the bet, and take a chance of veering astray from my routine, pathetic life. I was tired of hearing my receptionist and her wild stories of incredible "sexcapades" and her experimental methods into the unknown world of fruitful pain. When would it be my turn,to be careless, to take life into my hands and embrace it for all that its worth!
I had already consumed three bud lights, a margarita, and two shots of incredibly strong scotch before i realized the time. I had been here for six hours, and yet not one woman, nor at the least a desperate student had approached me. Sweat broke upon my brow in an epitome of frustration. My jaw tightened and my nose flared, i shouldn't have dranken that much, i should have left right then, but only time could tell what would happen next.
I noticed her immediately when she walked in, slim, young and innocent, baring the face of an angel, who accidently took the wrong turn and ended up at satan's nightly inn. She was perfectly symetrical, just the perfect opportunity i was waiting to fall into my grasp. I approached slowly like a hunter stalking its prey, and she the deer, the helpless deer whose cry would not be heard tonight. I convinced her I would give her a safe ride home, and that she could trust me, i wish she wouldn't have believed me. Yet she followed me out to my car, not even expecting that i would slam her into the back of the van, the van where my children sit to go to school, and strip every thread of innocence from her frantic body. Its all a blur to me now, like a foggy delusion in the back of my head, but it was no delusion. The horror of my actions did not dawn upon me until she ceased breathing, and her heart was no longer pounding its desperate rhythm in her lovely chest. Her angelic face froze in the stillness of the moment, she had been screaming before, I had to make her stop, for i despise the roaring of screams vibrating in my veins. The laser lights of sirens bouncing off the walls. It was another night at the club for most, yet for me it would be the last.

 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2001 Kristina Tonic
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
March 2001
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
3167
 

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