A cool grey lay over everything in sight. As I walked along the path I felt it's chill soak into my skin, and deeper into my unprotected neck. I cursed myself for refusing that scarf, but if I'm wishing for what I can't have, why not a car with the heater blasting, and the window cracked to give me a taste of cool air. The dull repetitive beat of a song I can't stand wouldn't leave my head. I muttered a vague obscenity in my head, and trudged on.
Attempting to comfort myself, I conjured up images of her slowly tasting my whole body from head to toe, in a marathon of fellatio, and so whiled away a half an hour or so. With these thoughts in my mind, I wandered in a sloppy zig-zag down the gravely road. As the gloom slowly parted before me, various entities loomed like spectres in grainy black and white movies. A hunched, creeper covered zombie eased into a trash can, and a wrecked horse and cart materialized as a park bench with a holly bush growing beside it. I always enjoyed letting my imagination free rein when I'm alone, and trying to get my own hackles to rise.
My pace began to slow. Imperceptibly at first, my legs began to let my feet drag on the gravel surface. Damn I was tired. That stupid song was putting me to sleep on my feet! I jerked my shoulders back, bracing myself against the cold moist air on the front of my neck, and pulled familiar chords into my head by sheer force of will.
"Dig through the ditches, and burn through the witches...." That did the trick. I brought myself up to a steady clip, and became awake. I began to pay more attention to where I was going. Wouldn't do to miss the path and wander in this foggy morning any more than necessary. Lisa would be mighty pissed off if I didn't show up after that party. I should have payed more attention when she said she wanted to leave. I certainly didn't want to spend the night at that house, what with everyone sneaking in and out of all the rooms, coupling without checking to see if the beds were occupied first. Must have been something in the punch.
slowing my pace again, I swept my eyes around to locate the break in the hedge that would lead to the path home. I thought I heard a thump and a yelp in the distance, but there was nothing to it that sounded interesting, so I ignored it. My eyes locked on a dark blob in the hedge up ahead. Thinking it was my egress off this road I smiled in welcome, already feeling my flannel sheets and downe duvet closing around my icy skin.
As I drew closer, the blob shifted, and separated from the wall of ivy, crossed to the middle of the road and stopped. My pace slowed. My path to comfort had disappeared, and in it's place an unsettling phantom of questionable intent. Suddenly, the figure staggered to the side, caught it's balance, and then collapsed as though someone had kicked it in the back of the knees. The source of my now extremely tense stomach muscles, and full feeling rectum, rolled over onto it's stomach, and lay still. I stood there, my heart pounding and cold sweat adding to the moisture on my face. I cursed myself for letting my mind to be gripped by fear of a prone figure, when I had been amusing myself by creating evil creatures in the fog. Giving my head a shake, I started towards the figure on the gravel, and thought of what could be wrong with this person. Drugs? Too much booze? I knew this was a big party night in the neighborhood, and guessed the latter. I stopped ten feet away, and paused for a moment.
"Too much of a good thing tonight, neighbor? Kinda cold down there, ain't it?" Shifting one arm to the side, the person grunted an unintelligible reply. Sounded slurred and choppy. Must be out of it. Taking a deep breath, I stepped up to them and cautiously held one foot over his forearm above his head.
"Live round here?" I said, in a light-hearted tone that must have sounded forced. The arm seemed to move a fraction, and the shoulders tensed. Suddenly the other arm whipped around and the arm I was hovering over jerked the the body into a pushup position. I pivoted, my raised leg turning to meet the arm in mid swing, and something jerked my pants leg, biting deep into my leather boot just above the ankle. I felt the tension of the boot relax as the laces were slashed. A split second later I felt a deep sting, as the blade bit deep into my skin. I jerked back, and using my newfound rage, transformed from my earlier trepidation, I drove my injured foot down on the freaks supporting hand. I took a couple of quick, limping steps back, feeling warmth slowly envelop my foot.
The man, as I was now sure it was, jumped into a squatting position, cradling his wounded hand. hissing obscenities, he rose to his full height and advanced on me. Telling myself how stupid I was for getting myself into this situation, I slowly walked backwards, testing my injured foot for weakness. My assailant spat some words at me. sounded like "Fucker..." and lunged. Instead of going backwards, I met his advance with one of my own. As his arm darted forward with the knife set to stab, I bought my right arm across, and pivoted on the balls of my feet. I struck the inside of his wrist with my forearm, and brought my left hand down on his in a scissor motion. His wrist bent at an awkward angle, and as I turned away, I bent his hand to my chest, pinning it there. The knife dangled from nerveless fingers, so I plucked and holding it away from him , I slipped it into my coat pocket. I hoped it didn't cut through the inside of my pocket.
Keeping his wrist bent at my chest, I pressed down on his elbow with my free hand, forcing him to his knees with a groan. It was hard to see in the gloom, but it looked as though he still had a grin on his face. Looking closer, I thought I saw a look of maniacal desperation on his face. Unsettling when combined with that set of teeth smiling at you. A crafty whine twisted through his teeth, gurgling with mucous. He didn't sound to healthy.
"Should've waited for you to pass me by," he hissed. I was enraged at his lack of fear, or his apparent lack of remorse at being bested, let alone for his actions.
"Spare change for your fellow man?" he giggled. it turned to a coughing fit , and he spat phlegm at me.
"You've got a lot of nerve talking like that in your position, motherfucker," I grated, and twisted his arm another forty-five degrees, pressing his face into the damp earth on the side of the road. I wondered what to do with him. Couldn't let him go, or he'd be all over the next passer-by, although I was probably the last person on this road tonight.
In a sudden fit of anger, I swung my fist around in a wide arc, and struck him in the side of the head, in front of his ear. He slumped to the ground, and went limp in my grasp. I dragged him over to a nearby bench, clenching my teeth against the pain in my ankle. Rooting through his clothes, I found some twine, and used it to bind his hands to his feet, arching his body so his belly thrust out, and his shoulders stretched back. I left him wrapped around the concrete base of the bench, with his head pillowed in the overflow of the garbage can beside it.
"Right where he belongs," I muttered under my breath, as I limped towards home. Soon I spied the break in the hedge, and left the road for the path up to our house. In my state I was paying no attention to the ground in front of me, and focused on the lights coming from the front porch. The obvious result was that I tripped over a dark green lawn chair, and pitched over it onto the wet grass, head first.
My yell rang out through the night, and as I picked myself up off the ground, the lights went on in the living room. As I stumbled up to the door, it opened , and there she stood in her satin dressing gown, a frown on her face. She opened the screen door as I reached for it. I stepped into the doorway and leaned against the frame, breathing heavily. The look on her face went through several changes, from anger to astonishment, to concern, back to anger, and finally dissolved into laughter. I must have been a sight.
