Shifting Shitstorm

“A tongue is only a messanger for a lie or relief”

“How the fuck do you get a dick up your ass and no money” a weasle like man spoke, “What ‘cuz the guy was cute? He was probably a shitlicking homo to want to fuck you”. A striking slap against soft flesh, tainted flesh. “I told you… He drugged…me. And raped me… Then left me in the motel room”, a weak voice said intermittenly between sobs and tears. “Aw baby, why ya crying. It’s not like you don’t do that shit for fun. Be a slut on your own fucking time, but when it’s my time you’re a fucking whore” he said intermittenly between swats (he called it “nominal punishment”). He pulled her hair lifting her body with his guiding arm and draped her over a chair. She screamed as he took off his pants began to further defile her once precious innocence. Her mind drifts away as he slams hip to ass harder and crawls deeper into her cave. He continued lecturing. He pulls himself out and pulls out a gun, forcing the barrel in and out of her ass. Then he pulls up his ‘Pant’s - o - Manhood” back up around his waist. Pulling the gun out of her and pointing it against her temple and forced her to get out of his condo but not before a quick pistol whip on her side.

“Learn to be a good fucking whore or I’ll make you into the best slut”. She lay in the hallway crying, a door slam “Fucking cunt”. Gun replaced with a syringe, a quick exchange from vioence to self-destruction, a quick pull from the supply and a needle driving deep into an overly abused vein. Euphoria rushing, and the world stops spinning and stands still. A crack, a tingle in his chest and the blood began to spill from the bullet. He glances down with a last “Oh fuck”.

2 hours prior

“There is easily 13 grand sitting under his bed, he run’s his own girls. He can die and not be missed” a pale 20 something whore said to a man. “Does he have a gun” the man questioned with a furrowed brow, “of course he does, he’s a fucking dirtbag” was the reply.
“How much of a cut do you want”
“I want all of his morphine and 4 thousand”
“I get the remaining and his tongue” The man said.
She just stared at his rough jaw line.

A quiet pause.

“You know sweetheart, what doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger”
“Strength… I feel weak”
“We’ll see after tonight, go home and get your things together. I’ll meet you at his place. Everything will be alright after this”
She grinned and walked out of the smokey bar. Another shot of the ol’ stuff and out the man walked to his beat up Honda. Tonight was his last night he would drive down the corrupted streets, the last time he would kill, the last time he would be himself.

- A Condominium-

She stood, the gun steady in her defiant hands. She walked behind his still standing body and poked the gun to his back and released years of torment, loss and disrepair in a lethal piece of metal. Tearing through his chest like freight train, the agony of humanity dragging through a tiny hole through his carcassed being. “Why don’t you play god with me sometime, fucker”. Another bullet drove into the barely living man. Solitude, bruises turning into un-beaten skin, a metamorphisis like a seraph - wings unfurled hurling through astral plains away from living pain, and then slung back down to Earth. A loud crack this time. Her eyes fade from emerald innocence to black shards of a broken whore. “You could’ve had it all, but you fucked that away, ignorance my ass”

He cut out their tongues, grabbed the cash and headed to his car. Tonight was the last night he would defend someone else, tonight purity had faded a bit further from reality, after tonight he’d be totally selfless, tommorrow he’d be a better man. Holding their tongues, imagining the curtailed flesh, he drove away out of town.