Beating on a Dead Human

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Beating on a Dead Human Empty Beating on a Dead Human

Post  Journey Lynn on Sat Feb 20, 2010 4:39 am

Beating on a Dead Human
Rating: Teen+
Entry for the 1 Hour Writing Contest

The sky was gray as ashes and the water was well beyond brisk, verging on icy, in fact. Ryan McCallister lamented the fact that he knew just how icy the water was, seeing as how he had tripped just a few minutes before and thoroughly splashed himself with the frigid liquid; his boots had managed to shield his feet from the worst of it, but his pants weren't water resistant and his socks had eagerly sponged up a disconcerting amount of the the bitter-cold water, leaving most of his legs freezing.

He trekked on despite the discomfort, cursing his beguiling friends for their ability to persuade him to accompany them on their many ill-conceived adventures. This time it had been hiking through the moors of Scotland to "appreciate" the misty beauty of some of the more well-known lochs. How they had decided this would be an appealing undertaking, he would most likely never know.

And now, they had been separated, the foolishness of youth and a heavy shroud of fog both pitting against them. Disheartened by the idea of wandering around out there alone when he didn't even want to be there in the first place, Ryan had turned around and attempted to go back the way they came. However, with his cell phone completely ruined (oh, had he forgotten to mention he dropped it in the water when he tripped?) and his GPS unexplainably and stubbornly refusing to cooperate, added to his abhorrent sense of direction, it was difficult for him to remain optimistic about finding his way back to any manifestation of civilization.

That, unfortunately, had been several hours ago.

Ryan was quite close to throwing his backpack of snacks and useless electronics to the ground and wallowing in abject self-pity. Before he could act on the growing impulse, however, he spotted a tantalizing flash of color---red or orange or maybe pink---out of the corner of his eye. He turned; his eyes, tired of the mossy grayness, squinted into the fog for the elusive color. His feet drug him forward almost against his will, and in a matter of minutes he was stumbling to a halt in front of a not completely unwelcome sight.

There, not 20 feet before him, lounging upon an rather dreary, gray, unassuming boulder, was a spritely young woman. Earthy brown hair curled around her face and fell down past her shoulders, disappearing along with the rest of her body behind the rock she leaned against. He could see it trailed behind her in the water that she sat in as if the cold did not bother her at all. He would have marveled at her endurance to the cold, but he was quickly distracted by the peculiar shade of her skin, the bare skin of her face and shoulders, and arms that stretched out towards him, beckoning, across the stone. It was as if she had sprung up from a patch of moss and had grown only a few layers of human skin atop it; there were undertones of a dusty, rosy reddish pink in her cheeks and shoulders, and as Ryan's eyes finally found his way to hers, he found a more brilliant shade of that color, and he was drawn helplessly in. She rose up and forward just a little so that her breasts pressed against the boulder, swelling up above the edge, just a bit, but remaining hidden enough to still be considered decent by most.

Ryan found himself wishing he could be that boulder. He stepped forward slowly, not wanting to scare the strange creature away, but certainly not willing to ignore such an invitation. She smiled and fluttered her eyes at his reaction, an eery giggle escaping her as she continued to motion with her hands, beckoning. The sound made his skin crawl oddly, but in his fascination he ignored it. Her next movement caught him off guard; she drew her arms back and pushed against the boulder, lifting herself out of the water slowly, bare torso rising above the rock and exposed to her enthralled audience's wandering eyes.

"Oh..." Ryan breathed, heart skipping beats at the sight of the nymph's breasts, water from the lake making her skin glisten, and it was beautiful in it's own right, despite the odd color. Held rapt by her nipples which exhibited the same rosy pink found on other areas of her body, he felt an eager coil of excitement twist in the pit of his stomach. His steps became a bit more hurried.

Just when he was within reach of her, a terrible shriek of animalistic rage filled the air. Ryan spun, alarmed, to face a great black stallion, mane and tail whipping as if in a gale, muscles surging and black eyes burning, hooves digging at the ground, nostrils flared; the demon horse gave it's wrathful call again, and before the boy could even register fear it was upon him. Ryan's last moments were filled with pain and panic, several bones breaking and internal organs rupturing before death took pity on him and the horse delivered a skull-cracking kick to his head.

The nymph, who, at the initial appearance of the steed had born only a frown, was now fully livid, stalking towards the beast with hateful obscenities falling from her lips, a scowl twisting her features.

"Kean, you stupid, jealous bastard!" she screeched, "What did you do that for?"

The horse had calmed down somewhat, but it was still indignantly stomping on the hapless boy's body, ignoring the angry nymph; the subtle irony of a horse beating on a dead person completely escaped her, however, and she slapped impatiently at him until he payed her the attention she sought.

In a quick, eye-tricking blur, the horse transformed into a tall man with gray skin and pitch black hair. Face twisted with his own anger, Kean grabbed forcefully at the much smaller woman's still flailing hands, pulling her against him possessively, severely limiting her movement, though she still wiggled and squirmed violently.

"How am I ever supposed to have any fun if you keep squishing all my toys before I'm done playing with them!" she yelled in his face, legs kicking about with little effect. She glared at him, lips pulled back baring her teeth in a rather frightening hiss. "You didn't even let me pull this one into the water, you know that's my favorite part!" she wailed in an odd cross between a spoiled child and the harpies of legends old.

"I'll be damned before I let some grubby, weak little human boy touch what's mine," he hissed back, eyes of ink narrowed, grip tightening so tight that any mortal would have snapped in two. "And you are very much mine, Calista. Besides, I let you have the women." he added almost offhandedly, even as he began nipping at her pointed ears, the feel of her wet skin and breasts pressing against him, especially with all that wiggling, swiftly redirecting his ardor.

She twisted her head crossly, trying to escape that hot mouth and it's angry kisses, but that just exposed her neck even more, and she arched in his grip as a trail of fire was forged down her throat and towards her breasts that heaved with her quickening breath. "That's only because you enjoy watching me play with them as much as I enjoy the actual playing!" she bit back, but the fervor in her voice was less anger and more something else entirely.

Kean smirked into her neck. Naiads could be so predictable. In one swift movement she was gathered up in his strong arms, and he tossed her unceremoniously into the nearby water. He listened for a moment to her indignant squawk before jumping in after her.

Hours later, a group of young backpackers happened upon a mangled corpse near the lake's edge. Frightened out of their wits, they dared not even approach the body. It was not until they were safe and warm in their room at the inn, trying and failing to hail their friend and wondering how one would file a missing person's report while in a foreign country that they realized that Ryan might not be so missing after all.
Journey Lynn
Journey Lynn

Posts : 26
Join date : 2009-10-26
Age : 29
Location : Arkansas, United States

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