Ad Nauseam

CARNALITY



Chad kicked an empty beer can into the gutter, listening as it rattled into the shadows. It was late, and he’d wandered farther than he’d meant to. Rows of dilapidated apartments interspersed with run-down shops rose up on either side of him. Normally he would’ve driven through this area with his windows up and doors locked. The street looked abandoned, but he knew dangers could be waiting for him. Gang bangers with nothing better to do than mug and beat the shit out of a white guy who’d wandered too far across the tracks, to name one. Maybe even kill him.

Chad didn’t give a shit about that now. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he kept walking. He wasn’t sober, but wasn’t as drunk as he would like to have been, either. A saner part of his mind tried to reason with him. You should’ve stayed at the bar with Elliot and Sasha. You can still find your way back before you get your dumb ass killed.

“F*ck Elliot.” He said to the empty street. “And f*ck Sasha, too.”

That was the whole problem. It was the reason he’d left the bar in the first place. His best friend in the world was too distracted with Sasha to notice his departure. Chad left them in the bar, swaying in each other’s arms on the dance floor.

Chad left because he couldn’t f*ck Sasha. Not anymore. In two days she would become Mrs. Elliot Holmes, and she had ended her and Chad’s affair last night.

“F*ck you Sasha.” Chad repeated, but the words came out softer, as his rage turned to self-pity.

Finding a rusty bench next to an overflowing garbage can stinking like rot, Chad slumped down and put his head in his hands. He should hate Elliot, wanted to hate Elliot, but he just couldn’t. They’d been friends since childhood, and in all those years, Elliot had never shown himself to be anything other than a great guy. They’d spent holidays with each other’s families and vacationed together every summer since grade school. They’d gone to the same law school both their fathers had attended together decades before. Their families were intertwined in more ways than they were not. Elliot never once tried to take a girl from Chad, though Lord knows he could’ve had them all. Chad couldn’t not love him.

It was Sasha who’d f*cked things up. He had wanted her from the moment Elliot introduced them. He found her beautiful and vivacious, with a contagious spirit that made him want her constantly. But she belonged to Chad. He couldn’t make a move on his best friend’s girl.

At first, Chad had just been in awe of this amazing woman and his lucky friend who had found her. He couldn’t even be jealous of Elliot, knowing in his heart that his friend deserved this divine creature.

They went everywhere together, the three of them inseparable. Sometimes Chad would bring a date as well, but it always felt wrong to include another woman, and he would find some excuse not to invite her out again.

Chad began to measure all potential girlfriends against Sasha, with the other girl coming up short every time.

He wanted Sasha. In fact, he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone. Sometimes, he felt sick with need when she smiled at him, desperate to hear the sounds she would make as he slipped inside of her. His fantasies consumed his waking moments. But still, he had no intentions of betraying Elliot. He couldn’t dream of hurting someone who trusted him so much.

Things could have been all right, despite Chad’s desperate longing, but Sasha wouldn’t let it lie. She knew Chad wanted her and she enjoyed the torment he felt. She began egging him on. Small things at first, like holding his gaze when he looked at her, or making sure her hand brushed his as they walked into the bar. Affectionate pats on the leg that started at the knee, but soon traveled up to his thigh. When the opportunity to consummate the relationship finally arrived, he’d accepted without hesitation.

She had driven him crazy. Sasha, with her big f*ck me eyes and the need to know that every guy in the world desired her. It wasn’t enough that she had Elliot, who was successful and handsome enough to catch the eyes of most women he met. Chad figured she really did love Elliot, but she needed more than what just one guy could give her. Maybe her daddy had been too distant, maybe mommy had shown her love with gifts rather than affection, blah, blah, blah.

Maybe she was just a slut.

It shouldn’t matter. She was Elliot’s problem. Chad had felt a mixture of relief and remorse when she’d told him last night they couldn’t see each other anymore, that she wanted to try to be a good wife. He wanted her to be good to Elliot, and it killed him a little inside every time they f*cked around behind his friend’s back, but he would miss the sex.

“F*ck you, Sasha.”

***

Chad stood up from the bench. His eyes scanned the shadows for movement, hyper-aware of his expensive clothes and the cash bulging in his wallet. Sobered, he gathered his bearings and turned back the way he came. He considered calling a cab, but figured he couldn’t be too far from where he’d left his car.

After several blocks, Chad came across a small storefront, its lights shining out of a dirty front window adorned with a painted sign that read “Pawnshop.” Looking at his watch, he saw it was going on midnight, but a sign on the door indicated that it was open.

What the f*ck? This wasn’t here before. He stopped to peer in the window, but the filth made it hard to see what was within.

Chad tried the door, certain it would be locked, that someone just forgot to flip the sign, but it opened easily. A bell tinkled as he walked in, announcing his arrival to an empty front desk.

“Hello? Is there anyone here?” Chad looked around at piles of junk stacked on shelves and the floor. A heap of jewelry lay scattered across broken toys; tools were mixed with kitchen wares. It would be impossible for the owner to know what he had in inventory. A thief’s wet dream, if any of the shit was even worth anything.

“Just a moment.” A frail voice called out from behind a room-length curtain that divided the shop from the back.

Chad picked up a balloon-like object that resembled a hot water bottle made of heavy, discolored rubber, with an unusual nozzle attached to a long hose that disappeared into the neck.

“Douche bag.” A man’s voice said, directly behind him. Startled from his inspection, Chad whirled around, and dropped the balloon. It landed on the concrete floor with a slap.

“Excuse me?” Chad said, offended.

“It’s a douche bag.”

Chad wiped his hand on his pant leg in disgust. “Who the hell would want a used douche bag?” Chad asked.

“You would be surprised what people come in here looking for. I don’t judge.” The old man winked at Chad and made his way across the floor slowly, settling on a stool behind the desk. “What can I help you with?”

“Me? Nothing, I guess. I just saw you were open and thought I’d check the place out. Why are you open so late?”

“My hours are never set, a perk of owning the place. I also suffer from insomnia something terrible lately. What can I show you?”

The old man leaned his elbows on the table. His eyes, like dark chips of glass, sparkled in his wizened face. Frizzy white hair formed a halo around his spotted head and his skin was dark. The man’s shrewd gaze bored through Chad, making it hard to maintain eye contact.

“I don’t need anything. Like I said, I just happened upon the place . . . ”

“Everyone needs something, son. Sometimes we just don’t know what it is.” The man retrieved a gnarled looking pipe from a drawer, filling the bowl with dark, oily looking tobacco from a dish on the desk. As he smoked, the room filled with an acrid, sweet smell that made Chad’s head swim, bringing back his drunk with a rush.

“You got troubles, boy. It’s written all over your face.”

Chad opened his mouth in denial, ready to flee back onto the street, away from the strange shop and the stranger old man with his trinkets and used feminine hygiene products. Instead, he found himself confessing. It all came out in a rush. The old guy just sat and smoked, nodding encouragement as the tale unraveled from their childhood friendship to their high school hijinks. The man passed no judgment as Chad admitted to his life-long jealousy of Elliot, and the way he had lived in his best friend’s shadow for so many years.

When Chad got to the part about Sasha, he ranted at the old man about how the first time, when Elliot was passed out in the bedroom, Sasha had kissed him before stripping right there in the living room and riding him to a shrieking climax on the couch. His fists balled at his sides when he told of how she would taunt him, laughing no matter how hard he pounded himself into her, urging him to hurt her, loving the roughness she couldn’t get from Elliot.

He ended his rant with his head hung as he muttered that he was supposed to throw Elliot a bachelor party tomorrow night, but couldn’t even do that since Sasha insisted on tagging along.

For a moment neither spoke, Chad caught up in his misery, the old man smoking his pipe and nodding. Then he spoke, his voice raspy from the cloying tobacco that stung Chad’s eyes.

“p-ssy will destroy your life, son.”

Chad glanced up.

“Yeah. I guess it can.” He looked at the man, searching for some trace of humor or anger in his dark eyes, but saw only a weary sort of compassion that spoke of bitter experience.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You could tell your friend. Come clean, and stop the wedding.”

“I can’t do that. It would break his heart.”

“Better to break a heart now, than after he’s already married the bitch.”

“I know. But . . . ”

“But you don’t want to lose your friend.”

“Right.”

The old man nodded again, placing the hot pipe on the counter and pulling open a drawer, rummaging around as he spoke. “You have some tough choices, boy. Every man does sooner or later. But I think I’ve figured out what you need, and if I’m correct, it’s right here.” He held up a piece of paper, his wrinkled face bright with triumph. Laying the paper on the counter, he slid it towards Chad with one shaking hand.

It was some sort of ticket, a couple of inches long and maybe one inch wide, made of heavy card stock. The edges were worn and it was creased in places, the words printed on it faded but still legible. CLUB CARNAL.

“What is it?” He turned it over, seeing the words ADMIT TWO scrawled on the back.

“What does it look like? It’s a ticket to Club Carnal.” The man began to fill his pipe once again.

“What’s Club Carnal? I’ve never even heard of it.”

“Son, there are a great many things you’ve never heard of, and if you live as long as I have, there will still be mysteries in the world.”

“So what is it? A strip club, or something?”

“Or something.” The man said, his pipe once again full and trickling bluish smoke that wreathed his head.

Chad was growing annoyed by the old man and his enigmatic speech. “Look, no offense man, I appreciate you letting me come in here and unload my troubles all over you like that, but I’m not going to pay money for an old ticket to a club I’ve never heard of.”

“Who said anything about money? Consider it a gift. From an old man who’s been there.” His eyes sparkled, intense and unsettling.

“What’s there?” Chad looked at the ticket in his hand, feeling uneasy about the exchange.

“A lesson. Maybe a hard one, but one you need to learn.”

“That p-ssy will ruin my life?” Chad guessed.

“Exactly.” The old man didn’t smile.

“Where is Club Carnal?”

“The address is on the back.”

Chad turned the stub over again and saw an address where before there had only been ADMIT TWO. 122 ½ E. Maple Street, written in spiky handwriting. He was sure it hadn’t been there before.

“What the f*ck? Is this some sort of trick?”

“Go there. See what there is to see and have fun. F*ck the girls, but whatever you do . . . ” He paused, his flinty eyes piercing Chad’s for emphasis. “Don’t partake of the flesh. You will want to, but don’t. Learn the lesson, son. Men are more susceptible to their sexual desires. It’s about self-control. Don’t take what is offered without question. No matter how much you want it. All of life has consequences, and beauty is never what it seems. Learn the lesson, Chad.”

He gave Chad another hard look before sliding off his stool and disappearing back behind the curtain.

“Hey! What the hell does that even mean?” Chad called to his back.

If the old man heard Chad from behind the curtain, he gave no indication. Chad made it back onto the street before it even occurred to him that he’d never given the other man his name.

***

Maple Street was in the old section of town, a few blocks away from the strange little shop. Knowing he should just find his car and go home, he turned down the deserted sidewalk to where it intersected Maple instead. He doubted Club Carnal even existed, since he’d never heard anyone mention the place. It wouldn’t hurt to check though.

“You looking for a date?”

The voice startled Chad. Turning, he could make out the figure of a woman standing in the deep shadows of a doorway. When he didn’t reply, she stepped out into the light cast by a street lamp. She was pretty in a tired sort of way, still young enough to have retained her sex appeal despite the lines etched around her eyes and mouth. If she was a junkie, it didn’t show yet. Her figure was full in the right places, her body not yet reduced to the cadaverous stature of someone who has handed the reins of her life over to drugs.

“Actually, I’m looking for a place called Club Carnal.”

“Never heard of it.” She took the ticket from his outstretched hand and angled it towards the light, her brow furrowed as she squinted to read the handwriting on the back. Handing it back to him, she shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Thanks anyway.” Chad smiled and turned to walk away then changed his mind. “You want to come with?”

“Like a date?” She opened her eyes wide with feigned innocence, though the corner of her mouth quirked up in the start of a sarcastic smile.

“Maybe. Just to see what’s there. I mean, really, it’s not like there’s a line of dates here on the street.”

She shrugged and stepped up beside him on the walk.

“My name’s Lily. You aren’t some kind of serial killer, are you?”

“Chad.” He accepted her gentle handshake, liking the way her slender hand felt in his own. “And no, I’m not any kind of killer. But I probably wouldn’t tell you the truth if I was, you know”.

Up close, he saw she was younger than he’d guessed. Probably in her early twenties. She was braless under a deeply cut shirt that clung to her full breasts and ended at a skirt so short it could practically pass for a belt. Though he was average height, he figured she would have to crane her neck to look up at him without the stiletto boots she wore.

“So what do you do?” She asked as they walked, her head turned toward him, watching his every move.

Chad’s mind swam, trying to come up with a believable lie, wondering about the wisdom of telling her his occupation. What if it was a set-up? He was filled with visions of some pimp following at a distance, sneaking up to conk him on the head and roll him.

Oh come on! Chad thought, shaking his head at his own folly. You are walking down a dark, deserted street in the company of a hooker you just met, looking for a club that probably doesn’t exist on recommendation of some creepy old bastard in a run-down pawn shop that sells douche bags in the middle of the night. And now you want to start thinking about what is or isn’t prudent?

“I’m a lawyer.”

“That’s cool. Maybe I’ll take your card. Might need you some day.” Lily laughed, a husky sound Chad enjoyed.

“Sorry, I only do family law.”

”Good one,” she replied, grinning. “I’ll have to remember that.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Chad said.

“Probably not.” She said with a sigh. “But you will, anyway.”

“Why do you do it?”

“Do what?” She cocked her head to the side.

“You know. What you do for a living.” Chad resisted the urge to kick at the ground like a boy on the schoolyard. Somewhere between that shadowy doorway and their short banter, he’d begun to like Lily.

“What? Being a hooker? It’s okay. I know what I am.” Lily tipped her head back and looked at the stars. “I guess it’s just something I fell into. My Mom died when I was young and I was on my own at fifteen. I could go on and on with my sad story, but the truth is, it pays the bills. And it’s a hell of a lot better than waitressing for quarter tips.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Chad’s apology felt inadequate, and he felt guilty about his comparably privileged life.

“Not your fault. We all have our problems. Hey look. We’re here.”

They stopped in front of a low brick building, the windows covered by boards. It looked to have been closed up for a while, and Chad couldn’t immediately tell what sort of business it had housed when open. Glancing up and down the street, he saw that more businesses were boarded up than not.

“Well, this is 122, but I don’t see a 122 ½. Usually it would be an apartment above the actual business in a place like this, but there’s only one floor. I guess it doesn’t exist.” He was a little pissed at the old man for sending him on a wild goose chase, but at least Lily’s company had been nice.

“Maybe it’s down there?” Lily pointed down a narrow alley south of the building which was barely wide enough to let them enter side by side.

“I suppose it could be. You want to check it out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on. If it’s not there, we’ll come right back out. And if it is, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“You’d owe me more than one drink for going down that creepy alley.”

“Okay, I’ll buy you as many drinks as you want.” He held out a hand to her, grinning in the most disarming way he could when she didn’t take it. “It’s okay. I’ll protect you.”

Lily snorted, her eyebrows raised as she made a show of looking him up and down, clearly not reassured by his fancy clothes and lean build.

Chad laughed and shrugged, pulling his hand back.

“We’ll be a team. If someone attacks us, I’ll distract them while you take off one of those high heels and stab them with it.”

“I’ll go down there with you on one condition. If we don’t find anything, you walk me back to my place and pay for a date.”

“That sounds fair. If we don’t find anything, I might just want that date after all.” Chad winked and held his hand out again, and after only a moment of hesitation, Lily took it.

***

The light from the street barely illuminated the narrow alley and they had to proceed slowly to keep from tripping over trash that littered the ground. A heavy stink of urine and garbage made them breathe through their mouths, and Chad had to squeeze Lily’s hand to keep her from fleeing when a rat squeaked at them from atop a pile of refuse. Chad was about to give up and turn around when the thump of heavy bass reached him, more a feeling than a sound. A few yards down, they came upon the door.

Set flush with the brick, the heavy steel door was huge, easily twice the size of an average one, with no discernible knob or handle. Spray painted in black letters across it were two words: CLUB CARNAL. The music came from behind the door.

Looking over his shoulder at Lily, Chad raised his eyebrows in question. She shrugged, squeezing his hand lightly. He raised his other fist and rapped on the door, expecting a hollow gonging noise to reverberate down the alley, but hearing only a soft knock. After several moments he turned to Lily.

“There’s no way anyone will hear us knocking over that music. Maybe there’s another way in.”

The door squealed on unseen hinges as it opened inward, revealing a man in a stained white t-shirt and snug jeans with homemade tattoos covering nearly every inch of exposed skin, including his face and neck. Ignoring Chad and Lily, the guy leaned out and surveyed the alley with narrowed eyes, before allowing them to enter.

Inside it was dark, the only illumination coming from a black light that caused neon graffiti on the walls to glow crude etchings and misspelled words that shocked the eyes in day-glow pinks, greens and yellows. The music was loud and heavy.

Turning toward Chad, the big man said nothing, just held out a scarred hand, eyebrows raised.

“Oh yeah.” Chad said, his voice swallowed up by the beat as he patted first one pocket, then the other with a frantic certainty he had lost the ticket and they would be thrown back out into the alley with the rats and garbage. He jumped when Lily slid her small hand into his front pocket, her fingertips grazing his balls as she retrieved the ticket deep within and laid it in the bouncer’s palm. She winked at Chad as they waited for the man to inspect the stub.

Satisfied with what he saw, the guy opened an interior door and ushered them past the entrance.

Chad’s first impression of Club Carnal was one of sensory overload as he tried to take in all the sights and sounds at once. It was much louder than he would have imagined from the alley. The music vibrated in his chest, and was occasionally punctuated by shrill laughter and screams. The dance floor was full of gyrating bodies in various states of undress. Both women and men danced on raised platforms, their nude bodies glowing with neon paint like that which adorned the walls in the entry. A recessed area contained circular booths where couples and whole groups of people lounged, some engaged in sex acts while others smoked hookahs made of brightly colored glass, the bluish smoke creating a haze that fell upon the room like mist.

Lily pulled on Chad’s arm, her mouth close to his ear so he would hear her shout.

“No way this place is legal.”

He nodded, then smiled when he saw the look of awe that had transformed her face into that of a little girl’s. The strobe lights made her pale skin look bluish, then green, as her mascara ringed eyes scanned the room, wide with wonder.

A pretty young woman holding an empty tray walked up to them, clad only in a loincloth, her nipples dusted with glitter and sporting clamps from which small peacock feathers hung. She grabbed Lily by the hand and led her away as Chad hurried to keep up, taking them to an empty booth that held a translucent pink hookah and a dish of sticky looking tobacco. The waitress disappeared without a word, only to return moments later with her tray full of drinks in carnival colors which she arranged before the two of them.

Fumbling with his wallet, unsure of the price of the drinks he hadn’t ordered, Chad pulled out two twenties, which the woman tucked into the strip of leather holding the loincloth in place. She handed them each one of the mouthpieces attached to the pipe, then leaned over and lit it for them, giving Chad a full view of her bare crotch beneath the cloth.

Lily put the tube in her mouth, breathed deeply, and held the smoke, a dreamy expression taking over her face as she exhaled. Even in the sporadic light from the dance floor, Chad watched as her pupils grew large and glassy.

Must be some good shit, he thought, his own mouthpiece still in hand as he weighed the wisdom of smoking an unknown drug in an illegal club deep within the city. He already felt strange, probably from breathing the second-hand haze that enveloped the room. In the end he gave in, took a deep drag, and felt euphoria wash over him in waves.

Is it hash? Opium? The world became soft at the edges, and his whole body thrummed like a tuning fork.

***

Somehow the drinks on the table were half empty, and Lily was on his lap, her mouth tasting of fruit and bitter alcohol as she pressed it sloppily against his own.

The low-cut shirt was rent down the middle, her bare breasts filling his hands. He looked down at them, unsure how they had gotten in this position, and noticed that each nipple was tattooed with a rose. That had to have hurt like hell, he thought, then giggled, pinching first one, then the other, much too hard. Lily moaned and shoved her wet tongue into his ear. Chad took another hit from the hookah.

The glasses were empty now, and Chad leaned back on the bench, pants around his knees. Lily dragged her teeth up the underside of his cock, causing him to groan. It should’ve hurt, but everything felt wonderful and electric. His head spun as she sucked at him, his eyes trying to focus on the people around them. In the next booth, a fat businessman lay sprawled while a blonde bounced on his face, squealing each time she landed. A threesome was happening on the floor at his feet, though he had a hard time concentrating enough to figure out the players, and who was doing what to whom. The whole room was alive with writhing bodies, the smell of sex mingling with the sweet smell of smoke.

The music stopped and the voice of the DJ boomed over the crowd.

“The spoons!”

The waitress returned with a silver object in her hand. It looked like a large melon-baller to Chad, the edges wickedly sharp. She set it on the table and pushed between them, pressing Lily back into the bench with a hungry kiss, her ass in Chad’s face. He reached out to trace the lines of her vulva, his finger sliding between the slick folds of flesh with ease as he rose up to his knees, almost falling over on shaky legs. Lily groaned as the waitress buried her face between her thighs and growled, her eyes glazed, a dazed expression on her face. The whole room seemed to tilt, but Chad welcomed the shift. It felt like his whole body was fluid and fire with bolts of pleasure shooting out from his groin as he slid his cock into the woman.

The waitress glanced over her shoulder and grinned, a savage look on her face. For a moment, it seemed the flesh on it blurred into something demonic, skeletal and cruel, visible for only a second before she returned her attention to Lily. Chad shuddered but continued on, pumping for all his worth, not bothering to look at the stranger who slipped one thick, spit-slick finger between his cheeks to circle his a*shole. He came with a roar and fell back against the cushion, watching the scene with pleasant exhaustion.

The waitress sat up, pulling Lily with her so the three of them were thigh to thigh on the bench. Without a word, she retrieved the odd spoon from the table, scraped it down the inside of her leg. Chad shook his head to clear it, watching in open-mouthed awe as the young woman scooped a chunk of flesh from her leg with a smile, offering it to Lily’s waiting mouth. The wound was bloodless, as if she were made of pale clay instead of flesh and bone, a pale, golden light revealed beneath her skin.

Lily swallowed with a sigh of pleasure, her eyes glowing with the same amber light as she looked across the woman to Chad, her mouth slack.

Chad shook his head again. This shit was crazy, but it didn’t seem quite as wrong as it should. Somewhere in the back of his mind an alarm sounded, and an old man’s voice screeched something about not partaking of the flesh, but he ignored it, accepting a smooth chunk from the woman’s belly with all the reverence of an alter boy’s first communion.

The taste exploded across his tongue, sweet like honey and musky. Like nothing he had tasted before, filling his whole being with need.

He wanted more, and she obliged, the spoon dipping over and over, the offering of her flesh disappearing into their mouths with increasing speed.

Chad couldn’t get enough, the warmth inside his body felt like living light and danced across his every nerve, ending in orgasmic intensity. When the woman stood and pressed the spoon, still remarkably cool despite her touch, into his hand, he knew what was expected of him and turned to Lily.

His entire world shrank down to just this moment, this booth, and Lily’s soft body. He wanted to cut a new entrance in her, one that no other man had ever used.

They squirmed against one another, making and breaking connections at the mouth and crotch, nothing existed but fingers and tongues and his cock as he carved at her flesh. It came away easily, like ice cream, like butter, and they both consumed it greedily as the rest of the room retreated, until there was nothing more than moans and whispers and the liquid sounds of sucking and f*cking and carnal bliss.

Throwing the spoon down with impatience, Chad attacked her with his mouth, biting and chewing as Lily’s squeals of delight joined the chorus of physical pleasure.

***

A shrill train whistle blew and afternoon sunlight stabbed his eyes, threatening to make Chad’s head explode as he awoke on a rough concrete floor. The throbbing in his head was so intense he felt nauseated.

He slowly sat up in a room he didn’t recognize. He was naked from the waist down, and his cock felt raw and abused. His mouth was dry, and there was a coppery taste in it that made his stomach churn. He rolled onto his side just in time to unleash a stream of bitter vomit onto the floor.

Lying in misery as his heaving gut calmed, Chad struggled to remember the night before, bits and pieces of memory causing his head to spin. He recalled a hooker. Lily? And some sort of club. It all came rushing back in a flood, causing him to bolt upright in another nauseating wave of pain.

“Oh shit,” he groaned, gathering his bearings as his head continued to spin. He was in what seemed to be a long-abandoned building. The floors were heaped with trash and dirt, and the windows were boarded over, the glass long gone. A train whistle sounded again, making him think he was near the railroad yard.

But that was impossible. He’d been on Maple, and that was miles away from the railroad. Chad squinted to inspect the shadows around him, and realized he wasn’t alone. A naked woman lay a few feet away, her narrow back to him.

“Lily? Is that you?”

The woman didn’t reply.

With sinking dread, Chad pulled his pants up and buckled his belt, crawling across the rough floor to where she lay, unmoving.

“Are you okay?”

Chad prodded her shoulder. As he touched her cold skin, a voice jabbered incoherently in his head, and he knew before he rolled her over that she would be dead. She flopped onto her back and Chad screamed, a high-pitched sound that echoed back to him as he fell on his ass. Rocks and glass gouged his palms as he scuttled crab-like away from the body.

All of one breast and much of her thighs were gone, exposing raw, red tissue and gleaming bone. Her abdomen had been clawed open, her dull, useless organs drying in the air. In some places he could see where the tool had cut away the flesh clean, but other places looked gnawed on, the edges rough and chewed. Lily’s face had not been spared the ravaging, as her lips and much of the surrounding cheeks were torn away, leaving the tendons and fascia beneath.

Her blue eyes stared off, the film of death already formed upon them, and her bloody teeth seemed to sneer at him, blaming him for what had happened to her. As Chad watched, a fat black fly landed on the surface of one eyeball and began to crawl around.

He puked again, this time not stopping until each heave produced only a foamy stream of dark, bitter bile. But even as he retched, memories of the club assailed him and he felt a longing to be back, to immerse himself in that pure bliss one more time. His groin tingled with anticipation. He spit in the dust, trying to get the taste from his mouth.

I killed her. I f*cking killed her. Chad thought, his head cradled in his hands as hot tears flooded his eyes. And I f*cking ate her.

Chad’s stomach churned again and he splattered his shoes with a fresh bout of acid, surprised there was anything left in him. He wasn’t entirely shocked to realize he was half hard from the memories.

Panic rose to gnaw at his chest, his heart pounding furiously as he considered what he should do. He was in an abandoned building, next to the corpse of a hooker he’d killed and eaten, far from his home and car. He half expected to hear the whine of sirens and the banging of cops at the door, as if his guilt was being broadcast through the atmosphere and straight to the nearest station.

“Calm down.” Chad said, trying hard to make his body obey, his pulse still racing. “You’re a lawyer. You know about crime. Look at this as a crime scene.”

Taking several deep breaths, Chad closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them, he tried to survey the scene with a critical eye, letting the voice of his law experience speak in his mind.

First problem, DNA from his saliva, semen, and god knew what else.

It’s okay. The voice reasoned. Your record is clean. They won’t have your DNA on file. Besides, if you’re lucky, she won’t be found.

Witnesses.

Everyone at the club was engaged in one or more illegal activities. They won’t be volunteering anything. The street was abandoned during your walk. No one knew you. If anyone saw you, you won’t know unless they come forward, but in that section of town, people don’t trust the cops.

Did I leave anything behind? He began to check his pockets and wallet.

Keys. Phone. Driver’s License. Credit Cards. Cash. Looks like it’s all there.

How to get home.

Walk. Not too fast, not too slow. Do nothing to attract attention. When you get to a better area of town, you can call a cab and go home. Throw your clothes and shoes in the trash compactor. Shower and shave and act like none of this ever happened.

Chad looked at Lily, discarded on the floor like trash. He felt bad. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but right now the fact that she was a hooker was his biggest break. Even if the cops found her body soon, they probably wouldn’t put too many resources into finding her killer without a family breathing down their necks. He felt like a bastard, but was grateful she was one of the city’s disposable souls.

“I’m sorry, Lily.” He turned away but stopped when something caught his eye. Her hand gripped a piece of paper. His heart began to pound once again, making him dizzy with the thought of how he had almost left behind the one clue that could link him to the scene. Careful not to touch her, he pried the paper from her grip. It was exactly what he had feared, the ticket stub the old man at the pawn shop had given him.

Turning it over in his hand, Chad saw the address on the back now read 311 ¼ Oxford Drive, though the creases seemed to be in the same places, and the wear made it look identical to the other.

Hell, that’s almost in my neighborhood.

Chad’s phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him, and he dropped the ticket. Grabbing the phone, he looked at the caller ID. It was Elliot. He flipped the phone open.

“Elliot . . . ”

“Hey man! What the hell happened to you last night?” Elliot’s voice was loud as usual, full of enthusiasm.

“Sorry, Elliot. I didn’t mean to ditch on you like that. I wasn’t feeling very well.”

“Sure. Sure. You met some little hottie while we were dancing and left with her, didn’t you?”

“No.” Chad glanced at Lily, and feelings of disgust and desire warred within him, causing him to shudder. “It wasn’t a woman. Listen, Elliot. Now really isn’t the best . . . ”

“Sasha wants me to ask you if we’re still on for tonight?”

Chad bent to retrieve the fallen ticket, his mind barely on the conversation.

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. The bachelor party. You know. The one you’re supposed to be throwing your best friend.”

“I don’t know, man. Something’s come up—”

“Chad, you can’t back out on us now. Sasha’s hoping you’re going to take us to a strip club. Maybe one of the really sleazy ones on the East Side.” Elliot chuckled, and Chad could imagine him winking at Sasha in the background.

Turning the ticket over, Chad stared at the new address, realizing it wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Visions of Lily and the woman last night flooded his mind, quickly replaced by memories of him and Sasha f*cking like animals on the couch while Elliot slept in the next room. He thought of how cold Sasha had been when she broke it off with him. He thought of how much Elliot meant to him and the heartbreak he would suffer when he learned what a slut his new wife really was. He imagined the two of them f*cking her at the same time in a sticky booth at Club Carnal. Then he thought of the spoons and a room full of people, taking out their most primal desires on one another.

He knew what he needed to do. He wanted to do it for Elliot, after what Sasha had done to him, but mostly he wanted to be back there just one more time. One more night of unearthly bliss and he could save his best pal from what would only result in a nasty divorce.

“Yeah, Elliot. We’re still on. But it won’t be some cheap strip club for my best friend and his fiancé.”

Chad looked at the scribbled handwriting on the back of the stub. ADMIT THREE.

“I have somewhere much better in mind.”