Flash Fiction: The First Time Is Always Special

As I mentioned on Tuesday, I wanted to try writing a short story this week (“1,000 words or so”) to participate in author Chuck Wendig’s weekly Flash Fiction Challenge. It came in a little longer than 1,000 words, but after three attempts to edit it I really liked all of the words just as they are, so we’re going to have to simply live with a large-ish value of “or so” for this week.

Randomly picking plot points & genres to mash up, I got:

Subgenre #10: Haunted house
Subgenre #18: Erotica (I kept it pretty PG-13)
Must Feature #3: A bottle of rare liquid
Must Feature #7: A secret room

Comments, suggestions, and constructive criticisms are appreciated:

The First Time Is Always Special

The kitchen door creaked open with a bit of effort. A shower of dust and falling cobwebs danced in the beam of Kurt’s flashlight as he quickly swept the beam around the dark room. A cluster of critters scurried away from the noise and light, probably mice or rats. A beam of light from the rising full moon speared in horizontally through a doorway on the left, somehow cutting through the thick layer of dust and grime caked on the glass.

“Come on in, it’s all clear in here. It’s dirty, but it’s a lot better upstairs where I set things up.”

Reaching out the door behind him, Kurt grabbed Juanita’s hand firmly and urged her forward. She came in with some hesitation, her own flashlight sweeping the debris and dust, and in the reflected light Kurt could see there was a bit of disgust and a few doubts showing on her face.

“It’s OK, it’s safe, just a little bit dusty. I checked it all out this afternoon and there’s nothing bad here. Trust me. It’s safe. And upstairs I made it real nice for us, you’ll see.” He put his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him, brushing his lips against her neck. “You’re still OK with doing this, right?” he whispered in her ear, a hint of unsteadiness creeping into his voice.

Juanita took a quick, deep breath as Kurt nibbled on her neck, pushing her hair back from her collar to let him get at the spots where he had learned that she liked to be kissed. She pressed against him and felt his hands slide down her back to cup her butt cheeks, slowly starting to knead her through her jeans. She pushed him away slightly and gave him a quick kiss, then gently but firmly dislodged his hands from her back pockets and held onto his hand so that she could keep track of it.

“I’m fine”, she said, “You know that I told you that I wanted to do this and do it tonight. Let’s see this ‘real nice’ love nest that you’ve set up for us.”

Moving through the kitchen and out the door the teenage couple came into a large dining room with a gargantuan table and a dozen high-backed chairs, all covered in filthy dust cloths. Over it all hung a large chandelier, tilting drunkenly and ready to crash down at any time. Trying not to touch anything, they pulled each other past the moonlit bay windows, around the table, and out through the half-open sliding doors on the opposite side. A wide L-shaped staircase rose out of the gloom in the entryway there.

Kurt led Juanita up the stairs, each step leading to another loud creak partially muffled by the heavy carpet covering the stairs. On the walls to their right, faded peach-colored wallpaper peeled and tore away from the wall in tatters while other spots were black with mold from water damage and rot. Juanita was glad to see that the stairway itself was clear of most debris, apparently something Kurt had done earlier in the day, tossing the detritus over the side of the banister to the floor below.

At the top of the stairs a half-dozen doorways off to the right indicated where bedrooms and bathrooms were lined up off of a long hallway. A narrow stairway to the third floor could be seen in the gloom at the far end. Another beam of colored moonlight lit the top of the stairs like a spotlight, turned into a pale rainbow by its passage through a round, stained glass window.

Kurt pulled Juanita toward the solid oaken double doors on the left side of the landing, pushing the doors open as they approached. Just inside of the door the stopped her and stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and putting his chin over her shoulder.

“See what I got ready for us?” he said as he swept his flashlight over the room.

Before them in the cavernous and decrepit master bedroom was a camping tent, filled with an inflated air mattress and two interlocked sleeping bags. On the far wall behind the tent the drapes were partially shut in front of a large set of windows, allowing enough light in from outside to see that a small vase on the floor holding a dozen long stem roses. Rose petals had been spread from the hallway door where they stood to the front of the tent.

Juanita spun back to face Kurt, still in his embrace. “Mmm, it’s perfect!” She kissed him, long and with intent to commit foreplay, getting a most appropriate autonomic response from Kurt as she pressed her hips against him. Before things went too far too quickly, she pulled away and took a step toward the tent. “Did you bring the other thing that I needed? Did you find it where I told you to look?”

Kurt turned and trained his flashlight on a round tray sitting on a dresser there. The tray looked like something Kurt had found discarded in the house, dust coated and filthy but possibly valuable, made of some kind of thin marble slab surrounded with a tarnished silver rim. On the tray was a small, cut crystal carafe that was filled with a syrupy, amber fluid and two heavy glasses. At least the glasses looked clean.

Kurt picked up the tray and held it out toward Juanita, a slight tremble visible in his hands, but Juanita backed a step away from him and started to unbutton her blouse, never taking her eyes off of Kurt.

“You pour,” she said. “I’m ready.” She slowly backed up another step toward the tent and loosened another button.

Kurt put the tray down on the dresser, uncorked the carafe, and quickly splashed healthy portions of the liqueur into the two glasses. He picked them up and turned back to Juanita. She was next to the tent near the window, looking out through the gap in the drapes. She looked back over her shoulder toward him. When she saw that he was looking at her she smiled, dropping the blouse off of her shoulders and onto the floor.

As Kurt walked across the room carefully with the two glasses, Juanita spread the ratty drapes wide, flooding the room with bright moonlight. The moon was now fully risen above a wooded hillside with trees starting to drop their leaves in the shortening days of early fall and no other houses in sight. Juanita’s bare skin was as pale as the moonlight itself, her exposed breasts as beckoning as a Siren’s call.

After giving Kurt time to elevate his heart rate and ogle the gift that she was ready to present to him, Juanita reached up to hold Kurt’s face in her hands. Forcing his head up so that he looked her in the eyes, she said, “It’s my first time and I want it to be so special. Can we do that? It’s your first time too, right?”

“Yes, my first time, too,” Kurt said, nodding and starting to smile. “It will be special, I promise.” His eyes locked on hers, Kurt handed Juanita a glass. Juanita smiled and raised her glass, indicating that Kurt should do the same.

Kurt took a sip of the liqueur, then a bigger swallow as he saw Juanita drinking deeply. He was surprised to find the taste to be pleasant and not nearly as strong as he had expected. There was a bit of a mint taste and a fair amount of alcohol burn, but it was also sweet, as if it contained some honey or maple syrup. Juanita drank half of hers and put the glass down on the window sill, so Kurt did the same.

“What is that stuff? Where did you get it?” Kurt asked.

“An old family specialty, very rare” Juanita purred, her eyes half closed, her body starting to sway slightly as the potion took effect. “The secret recipe has been handed down for many, many generations.” Kurt stepped forward and put his hands on her waist to steady her as she reached down and started unzipping her jeans and pulling them loose.

In a blur, Juanita tore her jeans completely off and spun halfway around, shoving Kurt roughly to the floor in the middle of the room.

Shouting as he fell awkwardly to the floor, Kurt saw Juanita standing above him, completely naked in the moonlight, her skin jerking and crawling as if wrestling snakes slithered under the surface. She seemed to be battling to stay upright, as if a thousand electric shocks jolted her and forced her into convulsions. A growling, grating animal sound came from deep in her throat and there was a crash as her flailing arm shattered a window. Soon Juanita’s milky, naked flesh seemed to quickly darken, blur, and lose definition. Kurt realized that she was being almost completely covered in light brown fur.

As the convulsions slowed and the growling quieted, the creature that had been Juanita turned back toward Kurt. He was starting to crabwalk his way back toward the door, trying to not make a sound and not taking his eyes off of Juanita. He could still recognize features of her face as the one he had been so much in lust with, but there was now a muzzle filled with razor-sharp teeth where only moments before had been the mouth that he had been obsessed with kissing.

“It’s my first time,” the Juanita-beast said in a barely understandable growl. “My mother’s been training me to hunt for eighteen years. I can’t be gentle but I’ll be quick, I promise.” She leapt.

Kurt had almost made it back to the hallway door. Scrambling to his feet he reached for the dresser and grabbed the tray out from under the carafe. In a smooth motion he pulled the side rims of the tray apart, spreading his arms wide. The tray rim stretched like a rubber band in his hands. What had looked like a solid marble bottom now changed to an undulating surface like the skin of a soap bubble, glowing softly yellow, like attenuated sunlight.

Turning to face Juanita as she leapt at him, Kurt held the hoop-like surface out in front of him, allowing Juanita’s momentum to carry her forward into it. She was reaching for his throat and heart, but as she touched the surface of the portal she was pulled into it, not appearing on the other side as she vanished.

In a heartbeat she was gone. Kurt quickly collapsed the rim of the portal back into a small ring shape, which he held up by the rim before his face. “My mother’s been training me to hunt also,” he said to the empty room. “You’re the first one.”

Kurt put the ring onto the ring finger of his right hand as he left the room.