Page 79 of Nocturnes & Nightmares

Nola’s young. No doubt, she’ll want more kids. She’ll want a life and freedom. Things I’ll never be able to promise her in my line of work. There’s a reason The Gallows is comprised of single and divorced men. Families are a liability, a weakness that can totally fuck up a job.

But I can’t let her go now. I’ve had a taste, and as much as I hoped that would be enough, I already know it’s not. She’s mouthwatering, like a forbidden fruit I’ve never had before, but with a pinch of depravity, she’d taste even better.

Steam rolls over the top of the shower, and the door clicks as Nola enters. Arms wrapped around her mid-section, she baffles me. That she would hide a body so perfect, with all her curves and fleshy parts, is beyond me, and as she approaches, I tear her arms away from her, taking a moment to drink her in.

My dick lurches with the visual of her arms strung up over her head, lifting those voluptuous tits where I can suck on them, while she fights to get away.

“When you enter a room, you walk in like you own everything in it. Understand?”

“You’re in here. Does that mean I own you, too?”

I don’t answer that, because no woman has ever owned me. But Nola? She might just be the exception.

I pull her into the shower stall with me, impatient and more forceful than I intend. That’s what she does to me. Every minute I spend with her is precious, like the clock is constantly against me.

24

The Sandman

One week ago …

Clippers snipped over the dried moonflower seeds that were scattered across a tray The Sandman had set atop a wooden workbench. Sweat trickled down his face from the overhead sunlamps beating over top of him. Though highly poisonous, he sometimes brewed the seeds in tea for the hallucinatory effects, similar to taking LSD. Most enjoyable was sitting in his viewing room, with all the pictures he’d collected, and relieving himself to the visuals of his subjects lying helpless and trapped in their latex binds. It’d often helped during the months when his flowers refused to bloom, which dictated the times he’d go in search of another evening companion.

If consumed in high doses, more than just a few seeds, one would fall into an agitated state, which gradually developed into seizures and hyperthermia, ultimately leading to coma and death.

Witnessing each stage of consumption was as beautiful as observing his Queen of the Night bloom. The excitement of watching life fade from their eyes couldn’t be described. The godly power of taking it, claiming it as his own, represented his most ardent fantasy fulfilled.

He dumped the seeds into a jar of water and set them aside.

Vining plants covered up the wall and shelves across from him, in various stages of growth. The prized Queen of the Night in the most spacious pots, among a delicious bone meal and rich compost fertilizer he mixed himself. He’d learned how to encourage blooming in each plant, and kept a steady schedule by constantly repotting and replanting in new pots.

Gathering up the remaining seeds into his palm, he carried them across the room to the bed, where Beth lay entirely incased in clear latex. Only a breathing tube stuck up from the shiny blanket sealed tight to her body.

The Sandman counted the seeds in his hand, making sure there were enough to reach the final stage that time. His last subject, before Marnee, had gotten as far as comatose, before he was forced to extinguish her himself. Twice, he’d missed that glorious bloom of watching their eyes go dull, as he’d been in full-on rapture during Marnee’s death.

No, he’d ensure that Beth would consume enough toxic poison that he wouldn’t miss it. He’d capture it, save it by removing her eyes and storing them where he could look upon them whenever he wished to relive the moment.

“Beth? Can you hear me?”

She nodded, the panic in her eyes a natural reaction. Some had hyperventilated when he’d completely covered them in plastic that way, but he’d assured Beth that she’d have more than enough air to breathe.

“I’m going to send some seeds down into your breathing tube. I want you to prepare your throat to swallow them. They’re completely natural, designed to help you relax. If you remove your mouth from the breathing tube, I’ll be forced to take away the tube all together. Am I clear?”

With her emphatic nod, The Sandman smiled.

“Good girl. Now here comes the first couple of seeds. Are you ready?”

Another nod.

Only dumping the first couple into the tube, he watched her swallow them back easily, never once taking her mouth off the tube.

“Very nice. You’re very talented at swallowing with something sticking out of your mouth, aren’t you?”

Her nervous chuckle vibrated up the breathing tube.

“Now, here are a few more,” he said, and dumped a few more down the breathing tube. Only small bits at a time, giving her a chance to swallow after, until his palm sat empty of the seeds. “You’re going to feel strange in a while, Beth. You may even begin hallucinating. It’s all normal. In the meantime, I’m going to fuck you again. Would you like that?”

Through the plastic, her temples glistened with fallen tears, but she nodded.