💀 The Abyss 💀 (Open 24hrs)

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MemphisX3 said:
Working on it

Memphis: booty eating with belfast
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"Memphis woke up in his dim apartment to the sound of loud thumps on his front door, his head was on fire from the night before. The lamp on the cheap tray table he used as a nightstand, which had long ago lost its shade had tipped onto the floor, shattering the bulb, the only light in the room came through the shades on the window, yellowed from cigarette smoke and dust.

"Who is it?!" Memphis called tiredly toward the door as he sat up in bed, pulling the pack of crushed marlboros from the pocket of his dirty chino's and looking across the floor for his lighter

"It me Memphis, Belfast, open the fucking door!"

Belfast..Memphis thought to himself, the hangover clouding his memory as he finally found he lighter on the tray table, next to the now dry bottle of Jack Daniels.

"What the hell do you want?" He called out taking his first slow drag off the bent cigarette hanging from his lips

"We've got a case Memphis just open the fucking door." Belfast yelled impatiently from the hallway of the dingy apartment building

Memphis finally got up, stumbling across the room before eventually reaching the door, the few steps felt like he had walked a vast expanse, his skin was dry, his eyes tired like he hadn't truly slept in months, grasping the doorknob he opened up the gateway into the outside world casting his eyes down as the light from the hallway assaulted him "Talk" he exclaimed, unable to look up just yet

"Look Mem, I know you've had a rough time of it since Martha...But I just got the call this morning, they found another body, its him, he killed another one"

As soon as the thought had processed, Memphis' head shot up, leaning out the door close enough that Belfast could feel the heat coming off the cigarette, it was him he thought, the one they had been chasing for months, the one who took Martha, the one who drove him to this sorry state on the bad end of the city "Take me there" Memphis said harshly, his hangover suddenly gone as he stepped out into the hallway, dropping his cigarette to the floor

The ride across town was bleak, the city hidden under an overcast as they pulled along the street toward an abandoned building on the corner of 31st and western, ducking under the yellow police line, Memphis approached the victim, a female in her mid twenties, he knelt down to pick up the sheet that had been placed over her to hide the grizly scene beneath

"Just like the others, just like her" He muttered to himself, staring at the rear end of the corpse, the cause of death had been blood loss, bite marks covered her from her slender waist, down to the top of her thighs, it was him, he knew, the Booty Eater who had terrorized the city for months had killed again, dropping the sheet once more, he turned to Belfast

"When did they find her?"

"Early this morning, a jogger out along the street saw her, said the blood ran almost to the sidewalk"

"Jesus, make sure the forensics keeps it light, I don't need them fucking up this lead too, I can feel it Belfast, he's close this time"

Later that evening, back in his apartment, sitting at his old metal desk Memphis went over the photos, looking at each one of the six victims, lingering a moment too long on the first one, he saw Martha again, like he saw her every night he didn't drink quite enough when he closed his eyes, her booty in the air, eaten like thanksgiving dinner down at the homeless shelter on 43rd

"Ill catch you this time, you monster, I'll find you"

But one thought lingered in the back of Memphis' mind, just as it had after all the other victims, why couldn't he stop himself from looking, why didn't he ever remember the night before the victims were found? And why can he remember, every time he saw that grim photo of Martha again just how she had tasted? Memphis reached for the fresh bottle on the desk, and just simply muttered as he tossed back his first strong drink of the evening "Why am I so hungry?"
 
SingleMalt said:
"Memphis woke up in his dim apartment to the sound of loud thumps on his front door, his head was on fire from the night before. The lamp on the cheap tray table he used as a nightstand, which had long ago lost its shade had tipped onto the floor, shattering the bulb, the only light in the room came through the shades on the window, yellowed from cigarette smoke and dust.

"Who is it?!" Memphis called tiredly toward the door as he sat up in bed, pulling the pack of crushed marlboros from the pocket of his dirty chino's and looking across the floor for his lighter

"It me Memphis, Belfast, open the fucking door!"

Belfast..Memphis thought to himself, the hangover clouding his memory as he finally found he lighter on the tray table, next to the now dry bottle of Jack Daniels.

"What the hell do you want?" He called out taking his first slow drag off the bent cigarette hanging from his lips

"We've got a case Memphis just open the fucking door." Belfast yelled impatiently from the hallway of the dingy apartment building

Memphis finally got up, stumbling across the room before eventually reaching the door, the few steps felt like he had walked a vast expanse, his skin was dry, his eyes tired like he hadn't truly slept in months, grasping the doorknob he opened up the gateway into the outside world casting his eyes down as the light from the hallway assaulted him "Talk" he exclaimed, unable to look up just yet

"Look Mem, I know you've had a rough time of it since Martha...But I just got the call this morning, they found another body, its him, he killed another one"

As soon as the thought had processed, Memphis' head shot up, leaning out the door close enough that Belfast could feel the heat coming off the cigarette, it was him he thought, the one they had been chasing for months, the one who took Martha, the one who drove him to this sorry state on the bad end of the city "Take me there" Memphis said harshly, his hangover suddenly gone as he stepped out into the hallway, dropping his cigarette to the floor

The ride across town was bleak, the city hidden under an overcast as they pulled along the street toward an abandoned building on the corner of 31st and western, ducking under the yellow police line, Memphis approached the victim, a female in her mid twenties, he knelt down to pick up the sheet that had been placed over her to hide the grizly scene beneath

"Just like the others, just like her" He muttered to himself, staring at the rear end of the corpse, the cause of death had been blood loss, bite marks covered her from her slender waist, down to the top of her thighs, it was him, he knew, the Booty Eater who had terrorized the city for months had killed again, dropping the sheet once more, he turned to Belfast

"When did they find her?"

"Early this morning, a jogger out along the street saw her, said the blood ran almost to the sidewalk"

"Jesus, make sure the forensics keeps it light, I don't need them fucking up this lead too, I can feel it Belfast, he's close this time"

Later that evening, back in his apartment, sitting at his old metal desk Memphis went over the photos, looking at each one of the six victims, lingering a moment too long on the first one, he saw Martha again, like he saw her every night he didn't drink quite enough when he closed his eyes, her booty in the air, eaten like thanksgiving dinner down at the homeless shelter on 43rd

"Ill catch you this time, you monster, I'll find you"

But one thought lingered in the back of Memphis' mind, just as it had after all the other victims, why couldn't he stop himself from looking, why didn't he ever remember the night before the victims were found? And why can he remember, every time he saw that grim photo of Martha again just how she had tasted? Memphis reached for the fresh bottle on the desk, and just simply muttered as he tossed back his first strong drink of the evening "Why am I so hungry?"
Click to expand...
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That was a respect slow clap
 
SingleMalt said:
"Memphis woke up in his dim apartment to the sound of loud thumps on his front door, his head was on fire from the night before. The lamp on the cheap tray table he used as a nightstand, which had long ago lost its shade had tipped onto the floor, shattering the bulb, the only light in the room came through the shades on the window, yellowed from cigarette smoke and dust.

"Who is it?!" Memphis called tiredly toward the door as he sat up in bed, pulling the pack of crushed marlboros from the pocket of his dirty chino's and looking across the floor for his lighter

"It me Memphis, Belfast, open the fucking door!"

Belfast..Memphis thought to himself, the hangover clouding his memory as he finally found he lighter on the tray table, next to the now dry bottle of Jack Daniels.

"What the hell do you want?" He called out taking his first slow drag off the bent cigarette hanging from his lips

"We've got a case Memphis just open the fucking door." Belfast yelled impatiently from the hallway of the dingy apartment building

Memphis finally got up, stumbling across the room before eventually reaching the door, the few steps felt like he had walked a vast expanse, his skin was dry, his eyes tired like he hadn't truly slept in months, grasping the doorknob he opened up the gateway into the outside world casting his eyes down as the light from the hallway assaulted him "Talk" he exclaimed, unable to look up just yet

"Look Mem, I know you've had a rough time of it since Martha...But I just got the call this morning, they found another body, its him, he killed another one"

As soon as the thought had processed, Memphis' head shot up, leaning out the door close enough that Belfast could feel the heat coming off the cigarette, it was him he thought, the one they had been chasing for months, the one who took Martha, the one who drove him to this sorry state on the bad end of the city "Take me there" Memphis said harshly, his hangover suddenly gone as he stepped out into the hallway, dropping his cigarette to the floor

The ride across town was bleak, the city hidden under an overcast as they pulled along the street toward an abandoned building on the corner of 31st and western, ducking under the yellow police line, Memphis approached the victim, a female in her mid twenties, he knelt down to pick up the sheet that had been placed over her to hide the grizly scene beneath

"Just like the others, just like her" He muttered to himself, staring at the rear end of the corpse, the cause of death had been blood loss, bite marks covered her from her slender waist, down to the top of her thighs, it was him, he knew, the Booty Eater who had terrorized the city for months had killed again, dropping the sheet once more, he turned to Belfast

"When did they find her?"

"Early this morning, a jogger out along the street saw her, said the blood ran almost to the sidewalk"

"Jesus, make sure the forensics keeps it light, I don't need them fucking up this lead too, I can feel it Belfast, he's close this time"

Later that evening, back in his apartment, sitting at his old metal desk Memphis went over the photos, looking at each one of the six victims, lingering a moment too long on the first one, he saw Martha again, like he saw her every night he didn't drink quite enough when he closed his eyes, her booty in the air, eaten like thanksgiving dinner down at the homeless shelter on 43rd

"Ill catch you this time, you monster, I'll find you"

But one thought lingered in the back of Memphis' mind, just as it had after all the other victims, why couldn't he stop himself from looking, why didn't he ever remember the night before the victims were found? And why can he remember, every time he saw that grim photo of Martha again just how she had tasted? Memphis reached for the fresh bottle on the desk, and just simply muttered as he tossed back his first strong drink of the evening "Why am I so hungry?"
Click to expand...

If you like to write, we have a whole section of BL dedicated to word games, poetry, prose etc. It might be of interest to you: https://www.bluelight.org/xf/forums/words.62/
 
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