12 Days of Xmas

TWO HAPPY BURGER MEALS TO GO

Happy Burger after eleven p.m. on a Saturday. At this time of night most people were getting their food through the drive-thru. There was one man seated in a darkened corner eating his way through a table full of food with a single-minded intensity. The cap he wore was pulled low and he hadn’t taken off his jacket. He didn’t look like he wanted to be bothered, focused as he was on his food and the phone he was staring down at.

Lila looked at Bowen. There was one person in front of them in line. “What are you going to get?”

Bowen had been staring at the overhead menu. He shrugged. “Do you want a Happy Burger meal? We can get them to go and walk over to eat in the park. It might be nice to eat under the stars.”

She nodded. “That sounds nice.” The moon was big and bright and it was a warm night. There weren’t even any mosquitos out, as the recent weather had thrown off their usual breeding pattern. It was rather perfect outside. “I would love a nugget and fries meal.”

He smiled and bumped his shoulder against hers. “How about the 20-count pack? Extra dipping sauce?”

Lila leaned against his side. “Another successful date night.”

“Date night is always great with you,” he said.

They’d left the kids with their grandparents and they were kid-free until Sunday afternoon. It was their one night a month alone and they were eating food from Happy Burger. “We’re so romantic.”

“Yeah we are.” Bowen nudged her forward as the customer before them took the big bag of food and headed toward the door. “Hey, hope you’re having a great night. Can we get a burger meal with 7-Up and a 20-piece nugget meal with Pepsi to go?”

“Sure,” the cashier said, punching at the cash register. “That will be $17.98. Do you have a Happy Value Card?”

Lila quickly dug in her purse and held it out along with a $20 bill. “We’re four stamps away from a free large fries or a medium milkshake.”

“Two stamps now,” the cashier smiled, punching two free spaces and holding the card back as she began making change with her other hand. “I probably shouldn’t say anything, but you might want to hold onto your card until next month. We’re starting a new program and you’ll be able to exchange your full cards for different things. There’s a whole catalogue of stuff to choose from.”

“Nice,” Lila said. She accepted the two dollar bills and dropped the pennies in the little change dish. “I’m a big fan of free stuff.”

“Who isn’t?” The cook in the back called out that the order had been received. “Let me get those drinks for you.”

Lila wrapped her arm around Bowen’s waist and leaned her head on his chest while they waited for their Happy Burger meals. “I can’t wait for those nuggets,” she murmured. “Mm, and I don’t have to share any with some grabby kid that’s going to use up all the sauce in one dip.”

“Selfish,” he teased.

“Just for that, I shouldn’t let you have any nuggets.”

He pouted playfully and kissed her forehead. “Please please please please?”

“Because you asked so nice…” She nuzzled her cheek against his chest. “You can have one.”

“Mean.”

There was the sound of the door opening and the scuff-squeak of shoes against the floor. But instead of going behind them to stand in line, a thin figure in shapeless off-black colored clothes leaned against the counter. “Hey bitch, gimme all the money!” he yelled at the cashier who was using the drink machine. And he waved a revolver that was likely older than him but that looked to have been well taken care of.

The cashier carefully set the drink cups down on the counter and held her hands up, palms out. She’d paled dramatically and the whites of her eyes were startlingly visible. Her lips trembled and she looked absolutely terrified.

“Move it! Gimme the money!” he barked, jabbing the gun threateningly.

Bowen pulled Lila away, but when the gun was pointed at them they stopped. “Don’t move,” the gunman ordered. “I’ll shoot everyone in this place.” Back at the cashier, “Hurry up, bitch! The money!”

Her hands visibly shook as she fumbled with the cash register. “I… I have to put in an order to open the drawer. Just… just give me a second and I… I…” Tears had begun streaming from her eyes as she punched at the keys.

The robber was jittery. When he pulled his lips back in a snarl, his teeth were chipped and blackened. There was a foul odor lingering around him and his fingertips were blistered and gray. The gun jerked up and down and side to side as he held it out but his finger was sure on the trigger.

Lila had a bad feeling.

She didn’t fight when Bowen nudged her behind him, both of them trying not to catch the attention of the robber. He ordered the cashier to put the money from the cash register in a takeout bag. Then he commanded her to open the other three registers and give him that money too.

“I… I can’t. I only have access to this register,” she said.

“Who here can open them?” he demanded.

“No… no one. It’s just me and the cooks tonight. The shift supervisor called in. He’s… he’s got the flu.”

The robber’s face twisted in rage and he screamed, shooting one of the registers. “Open them! Open them! Open them!

A piece of metal broke from the cash register and flew through the air. The cashier’s scream was loud and shrill, but Lila clearly heard the “Woof!” and grunt as the finger-long chunk struck Bowen in the stomach. She felt him step back into her, and then she was struggling to hold him up as his legs went out from under him.

“Bowen!” She cradled him in her arms, her hands scrambling to lift his shirt and see the damage.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he kept assuring her as she stared at the hole in his abdomen. She tried to picture where human organs went and was relieved to think that it likely hadn’t hit anything essential. But there was blood already welling up from the wound. So much blood that she couldn’t stop it with her hands.

“Shut up with that screeching!” the robber screamed, turning the gun toward the cashier. “I’ll blow your head off!”

The cashier’s scream cut off abruptly as she slapped her hands over her mouth, holding so tightly that the skin went white. Tears were streaming down her cheeks from eyes that had gone impossibly wide. Her whole body was shaking with her fear.

“Get those registers open!” the robber ordered. “Open them now or I’ll kill you all!”

A smooth voice interjected, “Whoa, what’s going on over here?”

“Who the fuck are you?” the robber turned, the gun aiming toward the man that had left his corner table and stepped into the light. Dark blue eyes peered out from under the black cap and his mouth was turned down in an annoyed frown.

“I’m just someone that was trying to enjoy their food until some asshole decided to rob the place,” the man said. “Why don’t you take that money and go? You’re not going to get any more.”

“Shut the fuck up! That bitch is going to open those registers and give me the money or I’m going to fuck her up with this gun! And if you don’t shut up, I’m going to fuck you up too!”

The guy cocked his head. “That sounded like a threat. Did you just threaten me?”

The robber was practically dancing in place with manic energy. His pupils were two different sizes and he was gnashing his teeth. He jabbed the gun toward the man. “Fuck you!” And pulled the trigger.

Lila flinched and clutched Bowen tighter, her eyes going shut so she didn’t have to see the man die. Her ears resounded with the sound of the gunshot and she screamed. The acrid smell of gunsmoke filled the air.

Bowen’s hands clenching around her wrists brought her back to herself. She glanced at him first, assuring herself that he was wounded but still alive, then she flinchingly looked to see if the man was still alive.

He was standing unharmed. Staring at the robber with a disapproving expression.

“What the fuck…. You’re a meta!”

“Duh,” the man said. “And you shot me. You dumb fuck.”

And the air around him wavered. And his eyes… they weren’t blue anymore. They were violet fire breathing up from the depths of his soul.

He stepped forward and his right arm lashed out faster than Lila’s eyes could follow. And the robber came apart. That was the only way to describe it. The way his body seemed to jellify, the skin bursting downward like a seam that parted to allow his liquified bones to ooze out, his head pulped so completely that there were no recognizable features left.

And Darkstar–that was Darkstar!–glanced around and shrugged. “Sorry for the mess,” he told the cashier. And “Sorry for the nightmares” he said with a nod toward the cashier and another nod toward Lila and Bowen. “My bad.”

And he turned around and walked toward the doors. And he was gone, a flash of violet light coming from the parking lot as he flew away.

Lila kept her hands pressed to Bowen’s stomach and her stunned state didn’t break even as the cook came from the back and called the police. He had smartly kept out of sight during the robbery attempt and hadn’t seen Darkstar at all though he told the police that he’d “felt something weird” and he’d heard everything.

And Lila went in the ambulance with Bowen and she waited for him at the hospital as the doctor removed the piece of metal and sewed up the hole. Nothing important had been struck and the wound was miraculously minor. They were able to leave after an hour and they took a taxi home.

“Did that really happen?” she asked once she’d gotten Bowen settled on the couch.

He looked just as dazed as she felt, both of them dazzled by their contact with the supervillain. “He’s… he’s really something, huh?”

“Everything they always say he is.” She shook her head. “I always thought people were making things up, but he really is that amazing.”

“I think I can still feel him,” Bowen said. “Sizzling inside me.” He shifted and palmed his crotch. She could see that he was half-hard in his pants.

“You got pierced by a chunk of metal less than two hours ago. Are you really feeling horny right now?” she asked disbelievingly.

“I am so fucking horny you would not believe it,” he said. “I don’t even need those pain pills the doctor gave us. I just think about Darkstar and the pain doesn’t matter.”

Lila watched him fondle himself, not seeming to notice what he was even doing. He didn’t move his body much, not wanting to bother his stomach, but his hand gripped and stroked his hardening cock. She couldn’t even chastise him as thinking of Darkstar was feeding her own sense of arousal.

When he unzipped his pants and pushed them and his underwear down his thighs, wincing when he used his stomach muscles, she didn’t hesitate to remove her own pants and underwear and lower herself over him. “Don’t move,” she ordered. “Let me do all the work.”

She kept one hand on his chest to keep him from moving as she rocked her hips up and down. He was so hard inside her and she was so aroused that she was dripping. Both of them thinking of Darkstar as they fucked each other over and over again for the rest of the night.

They woke up still entwined the next morning. And after she helped him move to the bed and fed him scrambled eggs and pain pills, she spent the next hour scrubbing the couch clean and later sprayed it with fabric refresher. They watched some TV and lounged around together until she left to pick up the kids from their grandparents. And she had to explain how Bowen had been hurt in a botched robbery and everyone was suitably awed when she explained that they’d been saved by Darkstar. And her kids believed every word, but she stopped sharing the story when other people kept expressing doubt at the idea of Darkstar eating at Happy Burger.

But she and Bowen knew what they had seen. What they had felt. What they had experienced in the presence of the world’s greatest supervillain.

And when their third child was born they named her Joy and her childhood birthday parties were held at the Happy Burger that had led to her conception. And she was a joyful and bubbly child that grew up to be a devoted Darkster like her parents.

And Lila and Bowen grew old together and their love stayed deep and lasting. And whenever one of them looked at the scar on Bowen’s stomach, they were reminded of those brief moments in Darkstar’s presence and their arousal would be immediate and powerful. And neither would ever forget the feeling of him and it added a depth to their relationship that they’d never had before. A shared wonder that would last the rest of their lives.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

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https://kimichee.com.

Faizel 02 at Amazon

DAY OF A HOUSEHUSBAND

Coming home, Warrick couldn’t help smiling at the sound of Vereint’s laughter and the TV. He toed off his shoes, curling his tired toes, and padded down the short hallway to peer into the living room.

Vereint was lying on the couch with a bowl of dry cereal balanced on his stomach. He was watching an anime featuring a guy with a knife slash over his left eye, brown lensed sunglasses, and slicked back black hair. The guy was wearing a yakuza-style suit with a white apron over the top. The apron featured a cute dog face and the word “SHIBAINU” underneath.

Warrick cocked his head curiously, watching as the guy scrubbed a floor on his hands and knees while the narration offered cleaning advice that was… Warrick didn’t even know how to describe it. The guy sounded like he was headed into battle as he sorted clothes into a washing machine, and then he prepared himself a cup of herbal tea as though he was fighting a war.

“What are you watching?” he asked.

Vereint jerked and twisted around to look at Warrick with wide eyes. “You startled me.” As though he didn’t have superhearing and should have heard Warrick coming in. “It’s ‘The Way of the Househusband.’ Tatsu left the yakuza when he got married and now he lives as a househusband and has all kinds of everyday adventures.”

“So… it’s your autobiography?” Warrick joked.

Vereint stuck out his tongue briefly, then laughed and sat up to put the bowl of cereal on the coffee table. He patted the couch. “Come sit with me. I’ve missed you all day.”

Warrick happily obliged, plopping on the couch and letting Vereint curl around him. “Mmm, you’re always so warm.” He snuggled close and kissed the side of Vereint’s neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“You’re the boss. You could always just stay home with me.”

“But then how would I keep you in the manner to which you’ve become accustomed?” Warrick teased. “Plus, if we’re both staying home, which one of us would be the househusband?”

“Oh, well in that case, I guess you have to go to work everyday,” Vereint said. “So you can come home to me and I can pamper you the way you deserve.”

“You’re getting a little handsy, hm?”

“I told you I’ve been missing you,” Vereint said.

“Do you think I should get you an apron like that?”

“I didn’t know cosplay turned you on.”

“Neither did I. Those glasses would look hot on you.”

Vereint deepened his voice, “‘Sales are a battlefield. Being a househusband is no joke.'”

“I have no idea what that means,” Warrick said. He was halfway onto Vereint’s lap. He nibbled at a bit of exposed skin. “Tell me more.”

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

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https://kimichee.com.

The Way of the Househusband 01 at Amazon

A VALUE OF YOU

Before there was an Entemat, there had been a world of roses and light. That was how it was described: A place where everyone was free and nobody was forced into the forever hell of Contract Labor.

That was the trick the companies played: Once a Contract was signed, the signee was never allowed to go free.

Everything cost credits with the companies. From food and water to the gear required to complete their labors. They charged for everything, and people swiftly found that their dents would never be paid.

A short five year Contract swiftly became a life sentence.

Ryan had signed his Contract with the idea that he would be able to save up for supplies and get a colony land grant. It hadn’t taken him long to realize the mistake he’d made. That he would never save anything. That the whole of his life would be spent in backbreaking labor with nothing else to look forward to. This would be the death of him: a lifetime of legal slavery followed by a cremation charged to his “estate.”

He had regrets, but company Contracts were ironclad. They took advantage of the ignorance of the unsigned and the inability of the Contracted to mention what went on within the companies.

The Implant wasn’t something he would have agreed to if he’d known about it. After signing the Contract, there’d been inoculations he hadn’t objected to, and somewhere in there the med techs slipped in a little something extra. Maybe nanotech or maybe something less advanced, whatever it was he found himself bound to the limits of his Contract.

He’d been able to shake his head when his young cousin had asked if signing a Contract with the company was a good idea. But he hadn’t been able to say the words. Hadn’t been able to vocalize or write a warning. Hadn’t been able to describe the hell he’d relegated himself to.

Sometimes he dreamed of what his life could have been if he hadn’t signed a Contract. He imagined living in the slums and it brought him a sense of wistfulness. Because even with the filth and squalor, he’d still had the freedom to dream.

Now there was just this. Day after day. Week after week. Forever.

All of his dreams had been expunged by a signature across a printed page. And he’d been shipped as cargo to an unsettled world where he was put to work in the mines. A piece of equipment cheaper to purchase and maintain than heavy machinery. Paid in food and water and tanks of oxygen he earned through hard labor.

The value of his life had been distilled into the double—or perhaps single—digits that were the future years ahead of him. And when they passed… he would be replaced by another broken dreamer. Some other poor soul that dared to dream of something more and made the mistake of trusting their future to a company as cruel as his.

He smoothed down the front of his maroon coverall and joined the rest of the chow line. Not thinking about the contraption he had made from bags of sugar and the ignitor he’d jury rigged from parts scavenged from the junk pile.

As long as he didn’t think about the purpose of the thing he’d assembled…he’d been able to put it together and leave it where it needed to be. Where it would do what it would do… and set him free.

Ryan’s lips twitched in an unfamiliar smile. And he didn’t think of time ticking down. Of the meeting about to take place and the visiting board members beginning to assemble. Focused instead on the moment he was in. The value of a life as measured by the food chit in his hand.

And he was hungry. Ravenous even. Thought he might take a double ration just because he could.

=END=

Small Gods at Amazon

A SILKEN ROSE

Locked in unending darkness. Lonely without light, passing through despair into madness and back again, into a cold kind of sanity that left her begging to be let out.

She’d been unwary and weak. Had let herself fall prey to her passions, and in return for her love she’d been gifted betrayal.

She’d been Hungry for so long that she imagined she’d been withered to bone with a stretch of paper skin over top. She felt desperate in her weakness, but the stone casket wrapped in chains had been beyond her ability to break out of even before Hunger had stolen her strength.

She rested in the darkness and dreamed of OUTSIDE. Of life and sky and scents different from the smell of her own must and rot.

She was dying, year after year, century after century, time seeping into her as she HUNGERED unending.

Memories, all that she had in this cage, had begun to slip from her. First her mortal life, then the early years of her immortality. So much was gone that she didn’t know what was left to her other than a desire to be let free.

She wanted OUT.

The desire for freedom was all that she had left to her. But desire could not bring action, could not lift her back up into the light.

Time passed as time was wont to do and there was nothing for her but darkness unending. An eternity of dreaming of light she barely remembered, her dreams warping and twisting as her memory of life OUTSIDE faded around the edges and developed holes all through the middle.

It had been so long since she had laughed and sung. Since she had danced in the moonlight with a love she had thought so true and fine, drinking the blood of mortals and rhapsodying in the finest things of LIFE. Exulting in everything she was and wanted to be, boundless and effervescent in a pure glory of SELF.

She had been powerful and unencumbered. Nothing and no one had been able to control her or compel her to do anything she didn’t want to do.

Until she had been betrayed by love and confined to darkness and despair, loneliness her only companion as her mind twisted and bent in upon itself but was unable to break her free.

She languished in her captivity, helpless and hopeless, until one day…

A sound came to her from outside the confines of the casket. The rattle of chains. The squeal and shriek of metal being twisted to the point of breaking and beyond.

There was the scrape of stone against stone. Then a sliver of light–so bright in her personal darkness that she had to close her eyelids to keep her eyes from burning. It was barely a dim glow, but it had been so long that she could practically feel heat from that bit of light.

There was a whisper of voices, one of them as dear as memory unremembered, but she understood what was happening even if the words were a gabble of nonsense to her ears.

Someone had come to rescue her from her hell. She was going to be let free.

Her darkness was come to an end.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley
https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog
https://twitter.com/harperkingsley0
https://paypal.me/harperkingsley
https://kimichee.com.
https://patreon.com/harperkingsley.
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https://amazon.com/shop/harperkingsley0.