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6
The climax
I cruised through my old hometown with feelings of nostalgia beneath a thickening film of dread. This was where I had grown up, gone to school, made friends, fallen in love, and discovered who I was. Fresh out of high school I had decided I wanted to be a detective. But not here. Not in Greenwood. I was meant for bigger things, for bigger cities, for bigger crimes, and yet, because I had to follow my dreams, I had been absent for my mother’s death.
No, I had been absent for my mother’s murder.
Everyone knows the saying “Life’s a bitch.” Well, after completing my investigation I discovered death is not much different.
I started this mess with nothing, thinking I could solve it all on my own. Big city detective comes to clean up small town, just like in the movies. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It took a girl named Blue, the kidnapping of my cousin Dakota, and four very strange and eye-opening blowjobs to wake me up to what was really going on here.
Let me explain. You see, Greenwood is a strange place, filled with mystery, where the strictures of society hold little sway. In Greenwood the rules of nature, of the rock and flame, of flitting winds and burbling brooks, of things not easily seen by our weak, mortal eyes, holds much more power. It is peaceful and calm on the surface, like the ocean on a calm, sunny day. However, look beneath the surface and it is primal and unfettered. In Greenwood deals are signed in blood and betrayals are sealed with a kiss. In Greenwood, between the standing stones, under the full moon, the sacred is replaced by the flames of passion. In Greenwood dreams come true, but you can never forget, that nightmares are dreams too.
Liza Stone knew all about these things. She helped me to remember, if for no other reason than to prove that she is always right. So, here I am, on my way to get revenge, because in Greenwood, revenge and justice are one and the same.
As I drove down Main Street I grabbed my cell phone. Sorting through my contacts, I chose the number of my murdered mother and made the call.
“Hello, this is Julia, I’m unable to talk at the moment. Please leave a detailed message with your phone number or call my assistant, Jacquelyn Ruby. Thanks, buh-bye.” My mother’s voice rattled off Jackie’s phone number and I swallowed hard. It was like calling a ghost. I waited for the beep.
“Hey…Savage,” I said, “I know you have my mother’s phone. I’ve thought about what you said. About your offer. I think that we should meet.” I gave her the time and place and hung up.
I made some quick calls to Chief George, Liza, and my Aunt Brandi after that. My wife, Sarina, was in town, but I didn’t need to call her. We Had been partners even before she became Sarina, back when her name had been Stephen. She knew me inside and out and she knew her role in my unfolding plan. I had full trust that she would accomplish her part without a hitch.
After my phone calls were made I ate lunch at Peggy’s diner and drove to my rendezvous with Savage. She had not responded to my call, of course, but I knew she would be there. After all his was what she wanted. I was what she wanted.
I parked outside city hall and climbed the broad Stone steps up to the first floor. When I reached the main door I paused and looked over at a young woman sitting on a bench just off to the side. She was wearing a black kimono, trimmed in red and patterned with cranes in gold thread. She carried an open umbrella, though there was not a cloud in the sky, and her pale, delicate hands were covered by fishnet gloves. The kimono was scandalously opened across the torso, revealing her fishnet undergarment and exposing most of her small breasts, as well as the Egyptian bird tattoo artfully inked between them.
“Afternoon, Fae,” I said to the tattoo parlor owner. Several days ago I met this young, petite woman in her place of business, a tattoo parlor down the street from my Airbnb. She had known too much about me then. I now knew why. I also understood why she had swallowed my cock like a snake unhinging its jaw to devour its prey. She was not altogether human, and she worked for the woman who had killed my mother.
“Afternoon,” she replied with a frustrated sigh.
“It’s a bit late in the day for you to be outside, isn’t it. Sun might burn you up.”
“Looks like you remembered some things about Greenwood after all, eh Gunner?”
“Just some. You here to scope out the place for your boss?” I asked, observing how pale her skin was under the light of day. She was wearing huge, red tinted sunglasses as big and round as teacups. Her shapely legs were protected from the sun by black leggings and she wore high heeled combat themed boots polished to a mirror sheen and sporting too many chains and zippers to be anything that polite company would consider tasteful. On her head was a straw hat with a brim wide enough to be a second umbrella.
“She’s insane, making me sit outside in the hot sun, in the middle of the day when most sensible people are still asleep,” complained Fae. She looked at me, though, and eryaman orospu numaraları smiled.
“Welcome to the team, Gunner,” she said. In the bright sunlight of midday I could not miss the sharp canine fangs hidden behind her blood red lips. It was a warm day, but a cool shiver ran down my spine. I was dealing with monsters, more than one, and it would be all too easy to wind up as nothing more than a meal. In some ways, for Fae, I already had.
“I look forward to working with you,” I lied with a thin smile.
“I look forward to choking on you,” she countered with an impish grin.
“Enjoy the day, miss Fae,” I said, blushing furiously, and entered city hall, followed by her silent laughter.
The main hall seemed dim and shadowed after the bright sunlight of noon outside. It was an old building, raised in the mid 20’s in Art Deco style with a wide open entryway boasting grand geometric shapes, towering windows, and old, dark wooden furniture cushioned in faded maroon. Behind a round desk at the entrance sat Galda Kashmir, the secretary for Police Chief George. That was not all she did though. Her secretarial skills were, in truth, abysmal. Chief George kept her on retainer to give blowjobs to his cops and lower their stress levels. But even then she had another occupation, a hidden one. She was Savage’s rat.
Galda waved when she saw me, a big open smile on her round, chubby face. She was dolled up in a bombshell’s red dress with white polka dots. Her lipstick and nails matched the scarlet hue. The dress may have been conservative, but the body beneath it was not.
“Afternoon, Galda. What are you doing in a place as respectable as this,” I asked the girl I had known since childhood.
“Respectable,” Galda snorted, bracing one elbow on the desktop and leaning her round, chubby cheek into one hand. As she leaned forward she rested her large breasts on the desktop, giving me full view of her deep, soft cleavage. “The stories I could tell you about these halls of power would curl your hair, Gunner,” she continued with a conspiratorial whisper. “They definitely curl my toes.”
“Maybe you can tell me all about it sometime,” I said, smiling politely.
“Maybe I can show you sometime instead,” she said, smiling right back and handing me my visitor’s pass. She did not ask me to fill out a form or sign anything. She knew why I was there, and why shouldn’t she? But I knew why she was there too. I had been the one who requested the chief to put her on loan to the city office. I needed her close if my plan was to work, and I still wasn’t completely convinced it would.
I took the pass, clipped it on the lapel of my jacket and headed upstairs, going over what I knew in my head.
No one had been present the night of my mother’s murder. It took place in this building and she had been all alone but for her secretary and best friend, Jacquelyn Ruby. Jackie had gone to get coffee, possibly from my missing cousin, Dakota. In her absence my mother was killed, or so she claimed. However, the office door had been locked from the inside and no one could have got in or out without a key.
The only true rival my mother had in town was her sister, Brandi Olympia, but she was innocent of murder, just not of much else.
The cops were ignorant of how the murder happened, but they had possessed a folder with a report from Blue, a high end prostitute at the Greenwood House, located at the edge of city limits and run by the knowledgeable, beautiful, and eternally young, Miss Liza Stone. That report had been recorded over two weeks ago and had predicted my mother’s death. Naturally, the rookie cop on the squad had taken the prophecy as crazy talk and not brought it up to the Chief. Not until the prediction manifested and my mother was found dead in her office, stripped of all clothing, and covered in small, scalpel thin cuts that did not bleed. The mortician had shown me on my first day here the numerous marks and claimed they most likely came from teeth of some kind. He also revealed a disturbing pattern, that the bites were focused in all the areas that lovers focus on in the heat of their passion. I had similar cuts on my shoulder and cheek from the green haired woman named Savage.
As I stepped out of the elevator I checked to make sure my pistol was well hidden in its holster at the small of my back, quickly dialed Liza, and braced myself to enter my mother’s old office, my thoughts still flying like puzzle pieces in a tornado. But the spinning was beginning to slow, the pieces falling into place. I only had one more interview and I would have it all tied up. An interview with the monster behind my mother’s murderer.
Savage was standing next to the window wearing a black summer dress with white rings around the hemline. Her green hair was pulled back by a black bow. I thought that I would be ready this time, that I had prepared myself to face her again. When she turned to look at me I realized how very wrong I was.
Savage was an archetype, there was no other way to describe the creature standing before me. Her gölbaşı orospu numaraları face, her body, were perfect, like she was the mold from which all other women had been cast, and all others were imperfect in comparison.
She stood looking at me, not speaking, hands clasped at the small of her back, which had the effect of pressing her breasts ever so slightly up and out. She had a quizzical look on her face, framed by her poison green hair, a question, waiting for me to speak so she could answer. I knew the question she had, I knew the answer she wanted. My whole body was warming with the answer, and my cock was hardening into an exclamatory punctuation at the end of the sentence. Still, I could not talk. I did not trust myself to talk, for fear of what I might say.
“Good afternoon, Gunner,” she said, her question vanishing, replaced by a thinly veiled smile. “I got your message.”
“Thanks for coming,” I managed to say and shut the office door behind me.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Gunner,” she said, the veil sliding off her smile as it stretched from perfect ear to perfect ear. The effect was disquieting and terrifying as she revealed three rows of small, razor sharp teeth behind her blood red lips.
“So, tell me,” she said, stepping away from the window and sitting down at a comfortable armchair on the opposite side of the room from my mother’s desk.
“Tell you?” I asked, trying to work some moisture back into my dry mouth. “Tell you what?”
“Why I am here, Gunner?” She said innocently enough, blinking her eyes slowly and tilting her head like a confused, lost puppy. I felt a spark of anger. She was mocking me. I fanned that flame and walked over to my mother’s desk. It had been cleaned up and set to rights after the night my mother was killed on it. I pulled out my mother’s chair and sat down.
“Hmm, I see,” said Savage, rising from her own chair and walking over to me. “Taking a position of authority. Of power.” She stopped across from me and bent at the waist to lean on the desk, accentuating her cleavage. She smiled as my eyes flicked down and back to her mismatching ones.
“I’m not here to play games, Gunner. I’m here to get an answer from you, now tell me, is this going to be a long and painful process or short and pleasurable. I’m into both.” She smiled. A thick stream of venom dripped from between her lips to slide down her chin. Her long, forked tongue slid out to lap up the poison.
“Who killed my mother, Savage?” I asked.
“Jacquelyn Ruby,” said Savage, standing upright before sitting sideways on the desktop, her short dress pulled tight over her round, full hip. “She’s been stewing on her husband’s affair for nearly two decades. At first she blamed herself, as most women do, before realizing the man was simply just that. A man. He couldn’t help himself if the opportunity was presented, which led her to believe that your mother presented the opportunity. Of course it was more complicated than that, every affair is a two way street, sometimes a three way, those are my favorites.
“Regardless, it wasn’t difficult for me to push Jackie over the edge, in more ways than one. She left the door open for me that night, I came in and when your mother refused my request, well, I let Jackie have her. But you’re a smart kid, Gunner. You already knew Jackie was your murderer, didn’t you.”
“Yes, but I wanted a confession from you, that you put her up to it.”
“Like I said, I only…opened the door, as I am for you, Gunner.” She leaned further over the desk, her short dress straining to contain her divine form. Her smell of sun baked earth and dry scales mixed with some kind of hot, desert spice washed over me. It stung in my nose like metal in the air, like blood.
Like the smoke in Fae’s tattoo parlor.
“Tell me, Gunner. What other secrets would you like me to…expose?”
“Where…where is Dakota? What did you do with her?” I demanded as her perfume threatened to envelope me. I bit the inside of my cheek, hoping the pain would help me focus. For some reason, it only increased the effects all the more.
“Oh! Sweet baby Dakota, of course. I nearly forgot how you felt about her.”
I squirmed in my chair as she spoke, which only made Savage’s smile wider and more predatory.
“The girl is young. She is all hot emotions, burgeoning feelings and passionate desire. I swear she started ovulating the minute she heard you were coming back here, Gunner, which gave me my perfect in.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, horror creeping up my spine.
“She works for me, silly,” laughed Savage, “though not overtly. You see, one day, after her special time with daddy, in mommy’s bed no less, Dakota fell asleep. It was easy to slither into her room and whisper what I wanted in her ear. A bit of venom in her blood and a hypnotic suggestion was all it took and she became my little spy, following you wherever you went, doing whatever I told her to, sucking…well, you get the picture.”
“Where is she?” I growled through gritted teeth.
“Safely tucked away in gölbaşı azeri escort a post orgasm stupor. She’s seen what I can do with my tongue, Gunner. Would you like a sample? Or do you want to keep asking me questions?”
I had so many questions, so many loose ends, but sitting there I found only one thing that mattered, “why?”
She shook her head and hopped off the table like a kind but frustrated teacher.
“This is my valley, Gunner,” she said as she sauntered over to the window again, hands folded in front of her, hips swaying as she walked.
“Oh, I know you wouldn’t understand, but think about it. Why do people go to war? It is not for love or for honor. It’s for resources, for power, for security. A long time ago your Red Cloud tribal elders made a huge mistake, one I aim to rectify.They put my sisters and I in the ground, Gunner. They thought us dead. Their mistake. I am back now, and before my sisters awaken I will have control of my valley once more or kill everyone in it. Now, it’s down to you again. Would you like me to kill you? Or dominate you?”
“Thanks for sharing,” I said. She turned back to look at me, frowning a moment before her mismatching eyes widened in fury.
I sat with one hand holding up my cell phone in one hand, my.45 in the other.
“On the other side of this line is Chief George, Liza Stone, and my aunt, Brandi Olympia. If I was a gambling man I might bet that Chairwoman Redcloud is also with them.”
“Your point, little boy?” Asked Savage, her eyebrow twitching slightly.
“My point is this. Seven families founded Greenwood. Five remain, and now they all know you’re back.”
“I’m not too concerned,” said a Savage, grinning wickedly, “by the end of the day there will only be four!”
I felt my stomach turn as the atmosphere around me grew heavy. It hurt to look at Savage. The air was undulating and shimmering around her like heat waves. The sinuous tattoos covering her body began to slide downward over her skin. I watched in slow fascination and horror as her legs fused together and then tore themselves apart. Then, as I watched, they were knit back together in the form of a tale, like that of a snake, with scales green as Savage’s hair green as the poison dripping from her lips.
She leaped at me then, and everything in me told me to run, everything but that angry spark I had been feeling since the moment I stepped inside the office.
I leaped to my feet and fired my weapon, each shot barking a loud report in what seemed time turned to molasses. I saw fire stab out from the barrel, watched hot lead race across the intervening space. I felt my stomach drop as the bullets careened off Savage’s scales and buried themselves in the walls, floor and ceiling. Everywhere but where I sent them.
She was over the desk. Her hands, scaled from elbow to fingertip, closed around my throat. Her black, eagle talons dug into my flesh as she looked over me, a woman deity from the waist up, a snake wide around as a tree from waist down.
“I’m glad you fought, Gunner,” she hissed, sliding her dry, forked tongue across my cheek.
“Me too,” I rasped through my bruised throat. She frowned, caught off guard and confused, expecting some kind of attack. One was not coming. I had dropped both my phone and handgun when she hit me. What came next would be the most difficult part of this test, but also the most necessary.
There was power in the seed.
With Liza’s words echoing in my ear I reached down and began to unbuckle my belt.
“Hmm, giving up already, Gunner?” Asked Savage, her grip loosening around my throat. “It won’t be that easy.”
She backed away and leaned against the desk, her eyes full of wicked, mischievous light.
“Fuck me, Gunner,” she hissed, her grin splitting her wicked face in half. “Fuck me on your mother’s desk.”
My gorge rose. My eyes flickered to the revolver on the floor.
“Ah, ah, ah, eyes on me, Gunner,” said Savage and I was assaulted again by an overwhelming gust of her dry, metallic scent, like blood on the Mojave.
There was only one way.
The power was power in the seed.
I unlooped my belt and stepped toward Savage. The tip of her tail climbed up my leg like a creeping vine. It stopped at my waist and snaked inside my trousers. I stepped even closer to her. She wrapped her tail around my cock and squeezed. It was hard. Painfully so. I closed one hand around her clothed breast. The thin fabric did little to augment the feeling of her oddly rough, full flesh. As my eyes were drawn deeper into her, she undid my button and loosened my zipper.
“Look at what is underneath, Gunner. I want you to see me,” she hissed, her forked tongue tickling my ear.
I slid my hands under her dress and pulled it up to her waist. The scales climbed upward to end where her legs should be. Nestled in pale, soft flesh between glistening green snakeskin, her lower lips throbbed, pulsating with a longing so saturated with desire that her liquid lust ran in undulating streams down the golden belly of her inner scales. Her smell filled my nose, more heady than any perfume and altogether foreign and exotic. I could not stop, even if I wanted to at that point. I buried my head beneath her white belly, in between the scales of her impossible, monstrous tail. All I could see was the soft mound, naked of hair, and calling like a desert oasis to a dying man.
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