A/N: It's not my story!! This was written by Yuna aka Vione. A (fascinating) dark story she gave me as Christmas Present. I hope you all enjoy this!! (I personally LOVE this!)
A black convertible was smashed into pieces by a bus. The bus was lucky, only the front window was crashed. A couple in the black convertible was dead. Their faces were crushed that it was no more recognizable. The police only managed to find their identities by the ID card in the man's wallet. Ten people inside the bus were severely injured while seven others only suffered from minor wounds.
I managed to interview the bus driver who only suffered from minor injury. I also took a photo of the wrecked vehicles. The boss would be pleased by my work for sure.
It was then when I noticed a teenage boy behind the driver. The boy's face was crushed and his body was glowing. I knew then that the boy was a ghost. Poor driver only got several days more to live. Yeah, as crazy as I might sound, I could see ghosts. However, I couldn't communicate with them. Not that it mattered to me.
My cell vibrated. I knew it was my boss. "Work's done, boss. It'll be on your desk in an hour," I said and hung up. I placed myself safely on my Harley, kicking the pedal and sped off to my office: Daily Times.
I went immediately to my cubicle and began typing the story of that accident. Once I finished, I reread the article over again. I had to say that I was pleased by my work.
I knocked on my boss's door, the article in my hands. Cara, my thirty-year-old boss, smiled gleefully at me, showing her perfect white teeth. Her honey blonde hair hanging in a disarray manner, and her deep blue eyes glanced at me longingly.
"Why, hello, Strauss, I see that you've finished the article," Cara said as she stood up and glided towards me. I noticed that the three top buttons of her blue blouse were unbuttoned, giving me a full view of her cleavage. Her miniscule black skirt hugged her butt perfectly. My eyes trailed down from her luscious red lips to her long tan legs.
"Yes, Cara, here it is." I handed the article to her. She took it and put it on her desk. She winked at me as she put her hands on my chest.
"You know, Strauss, I could definitely use an entertainment right now. Don't you?" she asked as her hands trailed down to my lower part. She fiddled with my belt as I tried to regain my composure. She has a husband and a kid already, I told myself, trying to muster the will to stop her. She successfully unbuckled my belt and began to unzip my pants, sliding her hand to my manhood.
Screw it, I said to myself as I began kissing her lips. She pulled me closer as I positioned my hand on her butt, pulling her closer to me so she could feel my aroused manhood. I slapped her butt, causing her to moan into my mouth. I eyed her neck, there it was, a proof of our brutal love making a few days before, a scar on her neck.
An image flashed through my mind: Cara, writhing in pain on my bed, blood trickling from her neck. Just the mere image of her in blood aroused me even more. Yeah, I always had a thing with blood, which ended up in my injuring my sexual partner.
Her cell phone rang, causing me to free her from my embrace. She walked clumsily to her desk, coughing before answering her phone. It was her husband. I took the opportunity to exit her office.
I sat in my cubicle, glad that I managed to free myself from temptation. It was hard enough to have a seducer as a boss, I wouldn't want to risk getting beaten by her husband. Fuck. My life was all messed up.
"Hey, Strauss, wanna go to the new club tonight?" Wyatt, my co-worker, asked.
I shook my head. "Nah, I still have works to do," I declined his invitation politely. He shrugged.
"Suit yourself, give me a call if you change your mind," he said as he walked away, back to his own cubicle. I suspected that Wyatt held a grudge against me. After all, he used to be my gay lover. Yeah, I was a bisexual. Got problem with that?
After a day of hard work, I went straight back to my apartment, where Charlie, my faithful Pug, greeted me. Charlie had dark brown fur, and he was three year old already. Charlie was my faithful friend, the only one that would never betray me.
"Good boy," I said as I patted his head. I slumped to my bed immediately after I removed my shoes. My apartment was small, consisting only of a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room slash bedroom. It's not like I was poor, I just hated wide spaces. I didn't need all those room around me, especially if it was so silent. Silences were suffocating.
Charlie growled, telling me that he was hungry. "Wait a sec, will you?" I sighed as I stood up and filled Charlie's bowl with dog foods. He ate hungrily, causing me to shake my head. I felt like Charlie was my own son.
I took a can of beer from the refrigerator and sat on the sofa, eyeing a little blue envelope on the desk in front of me. I dreaded to see what was inside that envelope. It was from my parents. I never answered their call, nor did I return their email. I didn't want anything to do with them again. I had severed our ties years ago, and they were persistent to fix all of this.
As I closed my eyes, trying to block all the memories from my childhood days, sleep overcame me.
I awoke to the sound of my cell. I didn't bother to look at the ID, nobody knew this number except for my co-workers, so it was safe.
"Hello?" I answered groggily, rubbing my eyes.
"Strauss? Are you busy now? Can you meet me?" It was Cara. She sounded frantic. What did she want from me this time? That bitch. I had no choice but obey her of course, she could fire me at will after all.
"Sure, where to?" I asked.
"Meet me at Neptune in 30 minutes," she said as she hung up. That bitch. Neptune was the club Wyatt asked me to go to this afternoon, and it was forty minutes away from here. She knew that yet asked me to meet her in thirty minutes.
I changed my clothes quickly and dashed out of my apartment.
On the way to Neptune, I saw the driver I interviewed this morning. The teenage boy ghost was still following the driver. I stopped my Harley at the roadside, scrutinizing the driver. He was at the road opposite of me, but I could see him clearly, thanks to the street lamp.
The drive was a middle aged man with three children. His wife passed away three years ago, and his oldest son was only fifteen. It was very unfair if I let that ghost killed the driver, but I couldn't possibly interrupt them. I tried to interrupt a ghost before, which ended up in people regarding me as a freak. It was back then when I was still in junior high school. Since then, I refrained from meddling with their business.
The driver walked in a daze, as if something possessed him. Of course it was the ghost, that ghost would do anything to kill that driver. That driver wasn't at fault actually, the teenager couple was. After a few investigations, it was discovered that the couple had been drinking before driving. The ghost wouldn't care if he was at fault, of course, all he wanted was that driver to die, like how that crash killed them.
I could easily stop them from here. Maybe I could yell at him, or sped towards him and halted him, but I didn't. I just stared at them as the driver crossed the road and was hit by a speeding truck. The bloods were splattered all around the place, as if it was a jelly crushed with spoons, causing the contents to be splashed. A few drops of his blood reached me, tainting my hand with red spots.
Bloods always aroused me, but not this time. I felt this hollow feeling inside my stomach which made me feel like puking. The ghost smirked at his handy work, and disappeared into thin air. Maybe he went to his next life, or to Hell, I didn't know. All I knew was that someone was killed in front of me, and I could easily stop him from being killed if I wanted, but I chickened out.
People around me began to panic, the sound of police siren could be heard from here. I felt numb, watching whatever it was that remained from that driver. It wasn't exactly a body, the bones were crushed to pieces. Nothing there could prove that it was a human there lying on the street, not a random animal. Maybe the forensic team could identify those as humans, but not from here.
All it took was a shout to prevent it. Just because I refused to shout, three children lost their father. Just because I refused to shout, I ruined three children's lives. I felt totally ashamed of myself, which was a bad thing. The numbness that I'd tried to push away came back again, haunting me.
I decided to speed off from the area, I couldn't let the police interrogated me. What if they asked me and I told them about ghosts? That was the most absurd thing. And anyway, Cara was waiting for me.
I couldn't concentrate on the road. I almost hit a car on the way to Neptune. Seeing that driver killed in front of my eyes made me question something: If I died, would someone cry? Would someone care? I had just realized that I had no friends at all, not that I needed one. I pushed them away, isolated them from my inner thoughts.
I arrived to Neptune thirty minutes late, thanks to that accident. I spotted Wyatt talking with a guy when I entered the club. I ducked my head, hoping he didn't see me. Cara was waiting in a booth at the far corner of the club, a secluded area.
"Sorry, there was an accident." I said as I sat beside her. She gave me a reassuring smile.
"It's okay, Strauss," she said.
"So, why did you call me here?" I asked, taking a sip of her Margarita.
She fidgeted for a moment. I had a bad feeling of what she was going to say. Cara was known for her confidence. This was definitely bad. She sighed. "Strauss, I want to know what you think of us," she said finally.
I raised my eyebrow. Us? Was she kidding? "What do you mean?"
"I mean, what do you feel about me? Do you love me?" she asked.
Oh right, the girl was really crazy. She wasn't even my girlfriend to begin with, and she had a husband, for crying out loud.
"Strauss, I'm willing to leave my family for you," she stated matter-of-factly. I looked at her with a disgusted expression.
"First of all, Cara, you're not my girlfriend," I said.
"If you don't like me, then why did you have sex with me? I even let you bite me, even though it hurts. I know about your blood fetishism, I'm willing to give everything for you!" she yelled. I looked around, frantic if anybody was eavesdropping on us.
"Cara, lower your voice, please. Don't you remember that you're the one who seduced me in the first place?" I stated calmly.
"But you should've pushed me away if you didn't like me!" she yelled again. I sighed, there was no use telling her to lower her voice, she was irate.
"If I pushed you away, you would fire me. I need the job, Cara," I explained to her as softly as possible, though actually I wanted nothing than punching the bitch in her face. She was the one who told me in the first place that she could fire me if I refused to have sex with her.
She still seemed angry, but I could tell that the worst was over. "Fine, I know you still need your job badly, Strauss, so I'm offering you a deal. Marry me, and keep your job, I'll even promote you. If you refuse, I'll have to fire you, and you know my connection, right? It'll be hard for you to search for a job after this." She smiled triumphantly. Cara was right, Daily Times was the biggest newspaper company in the country, just one word from her could affect my career.
Shit. Marry her? "Cara, be reasonable, you have a husband and a son," I tried to reason with her.
"I don't care about them. I want you, Strauss," she said, leaning closer. She whispered into my ears, "I've done an investigation of you, I know for a fact that you used to be with Wyatt. You know how this country looks at gay like you, right?"
"I'm bisexual, not gay," I protested.
She shrugged. "Doesn't make any differences."
She was right. If words got spread out that I was gay, it was really the end of my career. This country had a strict policy about gay, and nobody wanted a gay as their worker. Nobody knew about Wyatt, of course, except Cara and I. This was bad. Cara was really a bitch. "Cara, you've drunk too much," I told her, hoping that I was right. This couldn't be happening to me.
She smiled. "Nope, I haven't even finished that Margarita you drank. I've thought about this over and over, Strauss. I'm not pressing you to answer me now, though. I'll give you two days."
"Three days, that's as far as I can extend. One month is too long, Strauss." She laughed.
"You bitch," I growled.
She laughed gleefully. "Call me what you want, I know I'll get you in the end."
"This is not fair, Cara, you left me no choice," I protested.
"I gave you a choice right, either you marry me or not. That's a choice," she said.
"Fair choices," I muttered sarcastically. First choice was to marry her and live happily ever after. Not. I would have to endure her enraged husband, and that would mean I ruined another family. I would ruin her son's life. Oh boy, I really ruined many people's lives, huh? Second choice was to reject her, but that would mean losing my job, back to the dumps. I would have to leave the country if I wanted to get another job. This was totally unfair.
What had I gotten myself into? Couldn't I live a normal life even once?
It was the third day already, it was time for me to answer her. Either I lived a happily ever after but ruined another family, or I would rot to death.
The deadline was ten p.m., and it was eight p.m. already. I was a total mess. What could I do to fix this all? Nothing, there was nothing to be fixed in the first place. This all happened because of my parents. They were the start of my misery, the main cause of my current mental state.
They treated me like a tool, a tool to achieve the social status they wanted. They always wished that I would marry a rich woman someday, so they could live surrounded by richness. As if I would let that happen to them.
Charlie barked, licking my legs. I crouched to pat his head. "Are you worried about me, Charlie?"
I couldn't think clearly anymore. I thought I managed to get rid of this feeling years ago, but it turned out that there was no way to cure this completely. It had been two years since I last felt like this. However, I experienced it again these days, it wouldn't stop haunting me, not until I was dead. Dead. Such a wonderful word to my ears. Maybe . . . Maybe it was the key to escape this dreadful life?
I shook my head. This was getting ridiculous. Depression was too much for me to handle. I felt numb, I couldn't laugh, nor could I cry. It was like I was a living statue.
"You want to take a walk, Charlie?" I asked my dog. He couldn't reply of course. Nevertheless, I took him out with me.
I took my motorcycle, putting Charlie inside the small cage, tying it to my bike. He didn't protest at all, not like his usual demeanor. Charlie seemed to sense my feelings. Dog was always more loyal than humans.
I drove my bike to nowhere in particular, just driving in cycle. I wanted to escape this life badly, I hated myself. I couldn't do anything, I could only destroy other people's life. It was a miracle that I managed to get a job in the first place. I was worthless. Nobody would be sad if I died.
I stopped when I saw a reservation area. I passed the area everyday, but not even once was I attracted to the place. Somehow, in the midst of the night, a force pulled me towards the place. I parked my bike near the forest and let Charlie loose. I walked towards the place, not caring whether Charlie followed me or not.
I walked through the forest, which ended up on a cliff. I could see waterfall from here, it was beautiful, though I couldn't see clearly thanks to the moonless night. Charlie followed me to the cliff. I lay on the grass, eyeing the dark sky.
Nothing was holding me back. Nothing was important to me anymore. How does it feel to be like Cara? She was rich, she had nothing to worry about. Even if she had a divorce, she still had the money her late parents left her. While me? I was as good as nothing.
Sitting here, up high on a cliff, made me look back to all the mistakes I'd made in my life. My parents were very strict on me, they wanted me to be the perfect son. I studied and studied, until I became the very best. Then he came: Frank. Frank was nothing like my other friends, he was honest to me. He told me that he was gay. He was my first gay lover.
Meeting Frank was the turning point of my life. I found myself smoking and drinking, disobeying my parents. I made them sad, but for the first time in my life, I felt really happy and free. Frank and I kept our relationship a secret, we didn't want any of us to become an outcast
I strayed from my life, I began to question God. I questioned my life, my parents, everything. Then Frank moved from this country, and I was left alone. During that period, depression struck me. It wasn't a secret that I used to love cutting myself. At first, the depression wasn't that bothersome. However, as time passed, the episodes stayed longer, and they made my brain fuzzy. I couldn't think of anything except death.
Now also, the only thing I could think was dying. I knew it was irrational, I knew I was sick, and I needed help. If I was admitted to a mental hospital, people would know I was sick, I would lose everything as well.
There was no other way, was there?
Charlie barked, as if sensing my distress.
I stood up, looking down from the cliff. This was it, it's now or never. Would I still be in this world, or would I end my life right here? It was a high jump, there was no way I could survive the fall.
I prepared myself to jump, but was interrupted by a barking sound. "Charlie!" I yelled, but he kept barking. I turned around to tell him to shut up, but froze when I saw what it was that Charlie was barking at.
I heard a soft "Merry Christmas" uttered to me before I was consumed by the darkness, not sure what had happened.
A/N: I've written a story as Christmas present for her, I'll Wait. Read it please... My head was nearly exploded when I finished that story...
And that Strauss character is mine. You can see his picture (my drawing) in my profile!