Finding Happy: Prologue-2

So this particular short story used to be called “Third Degree” before I realized it was going to be another long one. I’m on the rough’s of the fifth chapter as of writing, and naming is something that isn’t really set in stone. I do apologize if this causes people confusion!

Prologue-II is similar to prologue-I in tone and style. It’s very much exposition with a few hints and foreshadows. Enough of that, though, enjoy!

 

Start at the beginning: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/09/13/third-degree-part-1/

Related Artworks: 

https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/09/18/distant-fall-artwork/comment-page-1/#comment-85

https://bluebeard-art.com/blind/

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Prologue-II

 

I really shouldn’t have put off this drinking thing for so long, I feel fantastic! Matt was talking to a couple of his friends, but Casey wasn’t really listening. His arm was draped over her shoulder and she was leaning her head against his muscular chest. “Matt!” shouted Casey, unintentionally cutting off the tall girl who was speaking. “Oh…shorry, about that, I’m a little out of it.” The girl giggled, shooting her a look she couldn’t place. Pfft…Like I care anyway. Everything is great.

Laughing now, Matt asked, “What’s up?”

“Let’s go in the pool, it’s hot out.” Said Casey, nuzzling his under-arm with her fore-head.

A surprised look shot across his face before he smiled, and said, “Sure! Let me go get another drink though, I think I need to catch up to you!” Casey laughed, drunkenly. I’ve only had like five or six drinks, can’t be that bad. What was alcohol’s disassociation constant again? “You gonna be okay if I leave for a minute, Casey?” He sounds like he’s joking but his eyes actually look a little worried.

Casey’s mouth curled into a self-conscious smile, her brow furrowed, and she said, “Of course I’ll be fine! I can take care of myself.” As he left, she stumbled slightly and looked around. Parties are a strange thing. What’s the point of a pool if no one uses it? There’s at least forty people just standing around and literally no one is in the pool. Casey stepped back and relaxed, letting her back gently rest against the house’s expensive looking rose-wood exterior.

It really is a beautiful home. I don’t even know how you treat wood to get that shade of blackened brown, but I’d bet it’s expensive. Those tables, too. The cheap-ass red cups can’t even hide the crystal. I wonder if Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher realize Christie is throwing a drinking-party. Probably not, but with a house this nice, I’m sure they travel for work or something. It’d really be a matter of shutting the neighbors up, and the next house is a quarter-mile out, so no worries there, I suppose. I feel out of place, I guess wearing vampire teeth to a full-on slutty Halloween party wasn’t proper planning, though. Alcohol really highlights those silver-linings. Casey closed her eyes, smiled, and let gravity pull her neck to the left.

“You still good to swim, Casey?” asked Matt.

Lazily, she opened her left eye, and responded, “Always.” He already changed into his swim-trunks? What’s the point of being a sailor if you don’t swim?

“Awesome! I hadn’t expected to actually swim, glad I brought my trunks now. You want me to hold your drink while you go change?”

“What? Nah, Bra’s…Two-piece’s, same thing.” Said Casey, playfully biting her tongue through a wide grin. “Oh, don’t look so surprised, I can party too, just because I make grades doesn’t mean I can’t have fun!”

“Whatever you say, boss!” said Matt, laughing, before running at the pool and jumping in, splashing a couple making out in the hot-tub. Gotcha! Casey chugged the rum and coke Matt had handed her, set it down, and pulled her tank top over her head. Best leave the shorts on! Making eye contact with a confused Matt, she winked, and sauntered towards the hot tub. Ignoring a whistle to her right, she stepped into the steamy water, quickly did her hair up, and sat. God…this is literally the best temperature. The girl across from Casey gave her a nasty look before turning back to her gentleman of the evening.

Casey recoiled in shock as Matt fell, feet first, into the shallow water, splashing water into her face. “Hey! What was that for?” asked Casey, giggling uncontrollably.

Closer now, ignoring the distraught couple he’d splashed twice, he replied, “You pranked me first you know! That water was actually kind of cold.”

Suddenly serious, she nodded slowly, and said, “Awwwe, is the little athlete sensitive? You want me to warm you up?” Taken aback, Matt opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Feigning frustration, she grabbed his arm and pulled him down. “Just kiss me, please.”

Cautiously he brought his lips to hers. Shivers shot down Casey’s spine and she pushed forward, deepening the kiss. As Matt curled his muscular fingers into her black hair, she swung her legs over his lap, pulling herself closer. Matt pulled away for a second, breathing heavily to catch his breath. Taking advantage of his momentary weakness, she bit his neck with her fake vampire-teeth, and giggled with elation. “Wow! I see you’re into some weird stuff there, Casey.” Pulling away for a moment, locking eyes as she cocked her head in mock-confusion, she removed the silly teeth and attacked his mouth.

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Thanks for reading!

Continue here: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/09/28/finding-happy-prologue-3/

Daily Blog 9/5/17

This short chapter formally introduces one of the main protagonists of the story, Nessa. She’s definitely a supporting character for the first two acts, but is largely the focus of act three. She’s a fiery, determined, and intelligent character who was dealt an awful and unfair lot in life. She doesn’t like to play the victim, even when she is, however.

In other news, Chemistry has been going a lot better. Got over the initial hump I had in the first experiment. Cleaned it up before completing the entire second experiment in one go today! Additionally, the first project scores came back, and I got 100% which felt nice with a 70% class mean. Made up for my initial fumble in the course. The key, I think, is preparation. I ended up preparing my spreadsheets outside of lab, giving myself the entire period for data entry and experimental procedures. I have a class screening that’ll last a few hours in about 17 minutes, so I rushed a little bit on the edits today. Luckily the chapter is short, and only had a few mechanical issues (I used “women” three times when referring to a singular woman haha). It’s always the little stuff!

I’m planning on getting a lot of art out this weekend. Many of these chapters are meant to have specific covers, like a pseudo-graphic novel written in long-form. A lot of those drawings are really difficult and require planning (for instance if you read the 1st chapter, the shower hallucination where Silgan see’s his diseased wife in a parallel shower).

Enjoy the story!

Start at the beginning: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/08/27/daily-blog-82717/

 

VIII

October 30th, 2021-Nessa

 

Nessa laughed, excitedly, as a tall, blonde woman tickled her belly and under-arms. “St..stop!” Nessa exclaimed.

Pausing momentarily, the woman raised her eyebrows, and asked, “I suppose that depends on what you’re going to do if I don’t? I mean, will I still get some cake?”

Quickly, Nessa shouted, “No cake for you! It’s my choco, all of it’s mine!”

“Well, if I don’t get cake either way, I guess I’ll have to take it from you by force!” responded the woman, tickling Nessa even more aggressively. Screaming, Nessa rolled forward, crawling between the woman’s legs, making a break for the cake. As Nessa ran, she looked over her left shoulder to see if the woman had followed. Nessa’s smile faded, the woman was gone. Slowing to a stop, Nessa turned, and called out, “Nanah! Where’d you go?”

The room grew darker, as a loud siren began blaring. The comforting wooden floor of her childhood home morphed into a stony, obsidian colored, surface. A sinister voice called from her left, “The rougher kids are waiting.” The walls broke with a crash and the siren grew louder. A hand, thrice Nessa’s size, crawled into the room from behind the broken wall to her left. Its movements were foreign, unpredictable, almost spiderlike. Nessa turned to run, screaming, except no air broke her lips. She was trapped, suffocating, alone. Again. The walls closed in around her as the thing crawled towards her. The hand was green, with reptilian scales lining the fingers, acting as inhuman joints. It twitched, convulsing, preparing to kill its prey, as the siren grew deafening. Then; darkness.

Nessa woke to the alarm with a start, breathing fast. She’d soaked her beddings in sweat again. Rolling to her left, she slammed the off switch with the bottom of her fist. Time to get to work. The room was dark, illuminated slightly by the blue Digitex on her night-sill that read 5:12 AM. She had a little under an hour before the rooms lights would be activated.

She’d grown accustom to moving quietly and effectively in the dark. If she made too much noise, she’d be punished. She’d learned this lesson the hard way, accidentally knocking her teapot off the center table one morning. Through trial and error, she’d internalized the relative locations of landmarks in the dark room. Sweeping aside the wet bed sheets, she swung her legs off the bed, getting up. They’d been mad, but Nessa knew if she was caught again, the punishment would significantly more severe. If they find it, they’ll kill me, or worse. They’d come close on a few occasions, beating her within an inch of life, and for much less than manufacturing a weapon.

Moving around the twin-sized bed to its foot, she kneeled, lifting the mattress. She grabbed the serrated chunk of metal she’d been working into a hook. Fashioned with care, from a large iron bolt she’d painstakingly wiggled free from the back of her night stand. Nessa felt the makeshift knives edges and grooves, sensed their malice, and grinned. The outside curve of the hook needed to be sharp enough to stab into a man’s abdomen. Then, all you had to do was twist until the inner hook dug into the surrounding tissue and pull. It’s almost done.

Standing, Nessa carefully tiptoed to her right. Five more steps. Blind, Nessa reached her left hand out, feeling for the small round table. Upon sensing the tables familiar texture, Nessa crouched, crawling under the table. Following the worn ridge, she felt the table-stand, slowly moving her hand down its length. The tattered wood suddenly became cold, unforgiving. The metal brace. She forced the rough hook against the damaged metal brace, sharpening the outer-edge, making sure to keep the blade even. It’s my turn to punish them.

Nessa fully understood that by using the blade on a customer, she’d be killed. I’m ready to die, if it means saving another woman from these cruel, twisted men.

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Thanks for reading!

Next chapter: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/09/08/daily-blog-9617/