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Old 11-Feb-18, 20:02
RogueTrooper
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Default The Arrangement Part 1

This is something I started a while ago.



The aching in his jaw was starting to kick in. A dull throb that Jason found pleasing, even more so when he extended his lower mandible to antagonize the pain and surrender to the thunder in his veins . He became less a mammal and more like some gasping landed fish dragged up from the peaceful fathoms and into the loud horror of hooks and knives and hateful sunshine. A casual extinction once the screaming had stopped and his adrenalin had dwindled back to it’s normal levels. The cluster of ruptured blood vessels that had burst like tiny fireworks in the corners of his eyes had bled out. The show was over.

Twelve minutes ago he’d stood amidst a barrage of clawed hands and rabid hungry mouths. A lighthouse standing resolute against a boiling sea of humanity’s basest instinct. Time slowed to a tectonic crawl as chaos seethed beneath his feet. Twenty minute explosions of mutually cathartic anger and neutered violence that his shadow self controlled. The exchange of energy between him and the audience was a hang-man’s wager, an invitation to participate in the wild hunt he’d summoned. In these moments of release he fancied himself a shaman, wild eyed and elemental. The ragged and the wretched caught temporarily in his thrall. But when the music stopped and the lights came back on the shadow slid back under the floorboards like an oil slick in reverse. Delusion is the common coin when jagged microphones are thrust into the grasp of the overlooked and the damaged. Exhaustion kicked ego’s crutches from under him and he slumped against the wall for support. The evenings main band Malbolgia were due to take the stage and people shoved past him to secure positions at the front whilst he fought to find a clean breath in the stale atmosphere of the club. Windowless and dark, he inhaled a lungful of midnight. Sometimes this release felt like a prison.

‘You look tired’.
Ashleigh’s mid west accent announcing her presence, emerging from the murk like a pantomime devil from a trap door. Jason started at the promoter, forcing his glassy eyes to focus. Trying to remember the right behaviors required to engage. The correct shape his mouth should make to smile. They liked that.
‘I’ll be fine, just need a minute’. He said.

She studied him as he peered back at through the twilight. Weighing him up, like two animals trying to establish an order. Discerning the level of threat. Her gentle features seemed ill chosen for the wide shape of her face thought Jason. She was full figured but not overweight. A discrete hint of a tattoo emerging from the T-shirt that was a shade too small for her. Robust, like she should have been serving drinks in some Viking alehouse not promoting metal bands on a Wednesday night in Chicago.




‘Why do you do all this?’ She nodded with her head indicating toward the stage. ‘ I mean I don’t know you very well, but I get the impression you don’t like any of it very much’.

Jason snorted.
Is it that obvious? I dunno...convenient escape from reality maybe. Ego stroke for what it’s worth? Not many places where you can be applauded for having absolutely zero artistic merit’.

The deception felt good in his mouth. Self deprecation and glacial blue eyes had never failed him before. Average girls like Ashleigh fell for it every time. Made them feel like they were getting beneath the surface.

‘Heh’. Ashleigh punctuated the brief silence with a dry laugh.
‘Why do you always let them come at you like that, it must hurt?‘

Jason smirked. He could read the submission in her from a mile away.. ‘

“I never set out to be a human pinata, it just happens when we play. I encourage them, to be fair. It gets my blood up and stirs up the sharks. It’s fun to be the bad guy sometimes. Plus, I kinda like it’

‘You like being hit?’ Ashleigh replied

Jason saw her eyes widen. He enjoyed the power. The feeling of blowing this girls tiny mind.

‘Sure. Life’s fucking tedious. When I go into work on Monday with a black eye from the weekend or push my tongue into the tear of a split lip before its healed, I realize I’m not a corpse yet. Pain is proof of life’.

Ashleigh nodded and stuffed a slim wedge of crumpled bills into Jason’s hand.
‘Here’s your money Tyler Durden. You earned it bashing yourself around like that. Don’t spend it all at once’
‘Thanks’ he grunted ‘I leave for Boston on Friday so it’ll pay for a shitty airport breakfast’
She paused. Then asked not quite casually ‘Are you flying out of O’Hare?’
‘He nodded.
‘So are you staying in town tomorrow night?’
‘Yeah, with one of the guys from the band’
Ashleigh nodded, took a deep breath and said ‘Look....I live right next to the airport. You are welcome to crash at mine. If you like. Offers there. No hassle to me either way.’
Jason shifted his weight carefully and leaned into her, casting his shadow over her as his ego swelled. Still got the touch. So wrapped up in his own success that he didn’t see another shadow slip behind Ashleigh’s eyes. Something like a shark in the deep and the dark.

Jason didn't recognize her at first. Amidst the bustle of the evening commute Ashleigh blended in with the rest of the human cattle. Like one of those snakes you don’t notice until it’s teeth are sunk into your ankle and your gums are turning black. She was dressed in a tweed skirt and sky blue cardigan, her mousy brown hair tied back in a functional pony tail, fringe pushed to the side and gripped neatly across the front of her broad face. The flat soled shoes on her feet amused him.
‘Got your lesbian shoes on today I see ?’ He sneered.
Jason was amazed at how different some people looked in their work clothes. Today she looked closer to 40 than 25. Dressed to depress. She looked at him. Her impassive face registering neither delight at his arrival nor disdain at his comment. ‘Heh’. She laughed without humour. He’d noticed before that she occasionally punctuated her scant conversation with that vague mocking half laugh. He was never quite sure what it was that amused her. It certainly wasn’t him, he was sure of that. ‘You can get some food on the way of you like. Or I can make you something. You shouldn’t eat too much though. It’s getting late’.
He raised an eyebrow and sneered. That’s what boys like Jason did when treated with anything resembling consideration. ‘Ash... are you worried about me?’.
‘I’m not worried.’ she replied without looking ‘I just don’t want you throwing up on my new carpet’. He frowned at the glib remark. ‘I’m 27. I’m not made of china!’.
‘We’ll see’ she said. Without humour. Again.

Ashleigh lead him into the lounge room of her apartment.. He glanced around. Spartan. A couple of low stylish couches were pushed back against the plain walls. No pictures or photos or personal touches. Just a large television, a couple of book shelves and a small coffee table near the far wall. The room was large and the insipid light of the two lamps did nothing to defeat the inky black shadows that filled the corners of the room. ‘Make yourself comfortable’ Ash muttered as she disappeared into another room. Jason ignored her and wandered over to study the DVD’s on the bookshelf. He liked to hone in. Searching for a weakness. The obvious sentimental or nostalgic movie that was out of place in the collection. That’s what he liked to do. To get under the skin like a splinter. To take control. The DVD’s were mostly old 80‘s action films and sports movies. Rocky, Raging Bull, Bloodsport. ‘Is your room mate a dude Ash?’.
‘Nope’ she replied from the other room ‘All the movies are mine anyway’

He seated himself on the floor whilst she laid on the couch. She’d changed out of her work clothes into a pair of comfy blue and pink checked drawstring pajama bottoms and an oversized college sweatshirt, faded at the sleeves, her pajama bottoms loose and well worn. He imagined that she’d spent a lot of nights on that couch watching her films on her own. Dreaming of some excitement. Now here he was. The great wolf. Invited over the threshold. Silly girl. The dull glow emanating from lamp and the television lit her face. The broad features, a barely there smile, the eyes so deep and brown they seemed like tiny black mirrors. Two shards of midnight pushed into her face. She was difficult to read this one.

Jason had been seated for only a few minutes before Ash sat quietly upright and planted her feet on either side of him, easing herself forward towards the back of his neck so he was gently aware of her proximity. She’d eased herself silently out of her clothes. Her bare skin seeking it’s like in another. Sensing the signal Jason arched his back a little initiating contact, the touch of his bare neck against an exposed thigh like flints sparking the blue touch-paper. She slid gently off the couch and onto the floor so that she was behind him her legs extended out on either side.



‘I see” he chirped.
That was the trigger. She squeezed her thighs together and clamped them round his ribcage like a set of iron teeth. She leant back pushing her palms face down the floor and thrusting her cunt towards the ceiling, giving her serious leverage to apply the incrementing pressure that forced the air from his lungs and made his body buckle. She thrust violently and squeezed again, the impact wrenching yet more breath from his body. As he tried to pry her thighs apart she pushed herself forward into him and squeezed her right arm around his neck, placing his throat firmly into the nook of her elbow whilst the left grabbed her own wrist and pulled it tight , wrenching his head back and forcing a wet wheeze from his mouth as his face swelled red. Jason felt her hot breath in his ear. Fast and heavy already with the expended energy. Back and to the left. Just like JFK.

The attack had caught him by surprise, but not so much as the silent fury with which Ashleigh sustained it. Of course he’d played rough with partners before but this felt different. There was an steel in her grip. Neither spiteful nor tender. No words betrayed her motivation but the level of aggression and sustained pressure indicated purposeful intent.She flexed and wrenched his chin back further to an uncomfortable angle. Beads of sweat arrived on her arms and her inner thigh like tiny spectators. She pushed forward as he writhed and the two fell away from the support of the couch and onto the course carpet. He tried to shift his weight to throw her off balance but instead he succeeded only in swivelling to face her whilst she relented only for the briefest second in order to mount him face to face, thighs clamped hard against chest, knees thrustingdown on his shoulders as he bucked and exhausted himself trying to shift that aggressive weight.

In the dim light he could see her looking down at him, her hands clamped around the back of his head, she locked her fingers together and forced his chin into his chest. The tension wound tight like some visceral coil in his spine. He started to panic. The veins were starting to rise in her arms with the exertion, as though she wanted to force his jaw through his own chest.
His synapses sparked as he frantically tried to piece together anything he might have said or done that would cause this woman to respond to intimacy with violence. Had he been too forward? No he was a lot of terrible things but never pushy. Was this some kind of trap then, a scheme that had been plotted and manipulated, so that he had wandered willingly into her iron teeth? Were there accomplices concealed within the shadowed depths of the apartment ? Where was the roommate?

As he bucked again she shifted her weight and slid down his chest towards his abdomen, thrusting her weight down as their inguinal regions collided. It felt like some had kicked him in the groin, a pain he’d not experienced since a particular vicious after school confrontation. So intent on mastering his pain Jason didn’t catch sight of Ashleigh balling her fist until it smashed into his jaw with the inevitability of a concrete pendulum. A funeral bell tolled deep in his skull. Fireworks erupted behind his eyes and bile rose in his throat. The second blow slammed into the other side of his jaw, knocking his mandible almost out of place. Sensing the subtlest of relaxations in her hold as she writhed on top of him, Jason twisted counting upon the perspiration to lubricate his escape and scrabble out of her grip. He slipped free and scurried into the shadows.

She was up and bouncing lightly on her bare feet, her chest flushed and rising and falling as she brought her breathing under control. She’d stripped down to a matching black Everlast sports bra and bike shorts. She held her fists up on either side of her face in a very authentic looking boxers guard, there was a sheen of sweat across her, her thick thighs and arms that looked doughy before now looked fierce, brought to life by the smell of blood and the promise of violence. The look of indifference that he’d quickly learned to accept from her now replaced by something he’d not seen before. Was it nervousness? Expectation? Her deep set eyes flittered round the room and in that moment she seemed very self aware . Then it was gone. Devoured by the shark.

‘Jesus Christ Ash what the fuck’ he barked arriving in the moment and snapping into lucidity.
He was bewildered and hurting. He was no stranger to the arrival of sudden violence. The house he’d grown up in had been full of it. Jason felt stung, not out of physical hurt but because he hadn’t seen it coming. His arrogance had betrayed him. Like this girl would be satisfied to simply bask in his presence. Like he was doing HER the favor by simply being there. His embarrassment tightened around his neck like a noose.

She pushed a lock of hair back over her ear that had fallen across her face, a light glaze of perspiration visible on her chest and shoulders. She was collecting herself. She’d done this before. Ashleigh walked lightly over to the wooden unit and removed two lightly wound strips of fabric and perched on the edge of the couch and started wrapping her fists. Jason broke the silence.
‘For a second there I thought was going to need those!’ he laughed. Without humour.

She didn’t look up. The ritual of wrapping her hands lent her a sense of zen calm amidst the chaos. Over and under. Over and under. like some brutal mantra. ‘You will but not until I’m done’.

‘See, I’m filming you, you cocky prick. I’m filming you being humbled by me, a woman. And should you ever speak of this to anyone. Or you fail to turn up when I tell you to, I assure you it’ll be on Youtube before you know what’s fucking hit you.’

‘But why, what did I do to you?’ Jason stammered.

Of course you think it’s all about you.The big I am! Get it through your fucking head. You are not special. You are just the right person at the right time. And you’ll be back here next week. And the week after that and so on until I say different. Do you understand? How you look, What you think. How you feel. These things don’t matter. Just be here with me. Exist in this moment. Not everything needs to be a status update or a tweet. Now put this in and shut your mouth. You are spoiling everything with your fucking mouth’.


She tossed Jason a small clear plastic case and withdrew another for herself. He failed to catch it clutching at it like a bar of wet soap. All fingers and thumbs. He looked at the plastic mouthpiece in horror.

‘You have to understand Jason,I am not a bad person. I’m just good at doing bad things’.

She smiled at him as she slipped her own black gumshield into her mouth, adopted her stance lifted her taped fists into her guard and started stalking towards him out of the shadows. …..
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