Horror and Thriller Fiction posted July 28, 2015 Chapters:  ...12 13 -15- 16... 


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A Romantic-Horror story

A chapter in the book Dr. Howler's Nightmares

Pole Dancer

by Brett Matthew West




Background
Doctor Howler, the creator of these Bedtime Stories, believes they are suitable for children of all ages.After reading them you may have a slightly different opinion than the good Doctor's assessment.
She was a drop dead, gorgeous, vivacious looker and I had been eyeballing her for a while. Her long, raven black hair cascaded luxuriously down her back like a flowing river. She possessed sparkling blue eyes and full rosy red lips any man would want to taste.

Me? I was a nobody in a nowhere bar just pouring blended whiskey down one double shot after another. Oh, at one time I had been somebody but that's another story to be told later. Tonight I kicked back and let the long, painful past go.

But, there she was working that pole like there was no tomorrow. The way she contorted her various curves would drive any red-blooded man insane. After all, that was her game. It was also how she found her clientele for the evening.

Ashland, the hole-in-the-wall, poor excuse for a run down, rattletrap, ghost town we were in only came alive on Saturday nights. Especially after midnight. That was always the time the loonies seemed to appear.

I had come into the Broken Bottle Saloon on many occasions. I guess I kind of hung out here as a regular. That was after all the fiasco I was running from in Dallas happened. Here, in this quaint little cantina I could be the nobody I had become and no one knew me. I didn't allow any one close.

Too many unsolved mysteries that I really did not want to discuss with Joe Blow, your every day average citizen from off the street. And, so far, the lady humping the pole that night did not recognize me either. A very good thing.

But, you better believe I knew exactly who she was all smug in her sinister evil ways. I watched the couple of males of the human species mesmerized by her bumping and grinding routine get deeper and deeper in to the act. Just her MO. I also wondered which one of them would be unlucky enough to make the fatal mistake of leaving the joint with her.

Of course, I wouldn't be far behind them when they departed. I wouldn't make the same mistake I had made in Texas. What was left of my self-respect and pride depended on me making the right moves.

The clock on the wall said it was five minutes to three on the AM side of the dial. That meant there were only a handful of minutes remaining before she would strike again. This time I was much better prepared than when she had eluded my clutches before. An error a wanted man could not afford to make.

Yes, I was wanted. I had seen my picture, in an 8 X 10 format, plastered up on the television above the bar. Fortunately, no one seemed to be paying any attention when it had flashed. And, that suited my fancy just fine.

However, I knew it wouldn't be long before I hurriedly left Ashland in the dust behind me, provided I survived the night. And, there were no guarantees of that happening either.

I reached down and checked the contents of the left pocket of the jeans I was wearing ensuring one special item was in place. Successfully clearing my name required my entire plan go precisely as I had mentally rehearsed it a thousand times before.

There is only one thing that stops a she-wolf, and that was my prey in this rinky dink, dirt road Hell Hole I wanted no part of. Knowing my weapon was securely in place, all I could do was bide my time and wait for her to make her move.

The sleepy old barkeep had already given Last Call and was starting his close-up routine. My quarry was now wrapped up in the arms of the unfortunate choice she had made. I hoped he owned real good life insurance. Whatever family he had would soon be needing it.

However, in this war he was only collateral damage. Nothing more or less. Simply another one of her pawns. The lustful look on his face said he had found what he wanted. Too bad he had no idea he was actually her soon-to-be late night snack. Poor sap. I almost felt a twinge of pity for him. Almost.

It had been this way since she started her trek around the globe. Her first victim was found in London. That was were she had originated from. After that it was Rome, then Madrid. Now here we were in Arizona in the American Southwest.

The case had been unceremoniously dropped in my lap in Dallas. The newspaper there had stated I was the right man for the job. But, I had blown it and let her last dearly departed victim die.

Maybe I had. Although in my mind I had done everything I could until the higher-up Brass wannabes had stuck there snot-filled noses into my affairs and handcuffed my every move.

A twenty year Detective career tossed right down the toilet because they chose to not believe me when I told them the lady was a she-wolf. All that did was solicit loud laughter from those who thought they knew it all, but in reality, knew nothing. Not even how to properly wipe their butts.

More than that they actually had the unmitigated gall to pin it all on me. That is why I was now on the lam and a wanted murderer. Only stopping her, and dragging her carcass back to the Lone Star State, would satisfy me.

I watched as she slowly led him out the door. This was not going to end splendidly for any of the three of us I feared. I carefully loaded my silver bullets into my firearm and chambered them. One thing I definitely am is a crack shot. I do not miss.

However, all I could do at the moment was wait to see where she dragged him off to, and unobserved, follow their footsteps. That is what I did. Right out to an abandoned mine shaft on the outskirts of town. She wasn't wasting any time with this one.

Making my way up to the damp, dark mine I could hear the two of them passionately smooching. I could also hear the moans of pleasure that overtook two lovers in the heat of passion. I waited.

I could not make my advance until she transformed herself into the she-wolf she was. That was the carcass I needed her to be when I dragged her back to Texas.

Finally, in what appeared a flash, she metamorphasized into a female wolf. The poor man, who now had her female reproductive organ penetrated, never knew what attacked him. But I sure did.

I had seen the grisly remains of her victim before. Hearing her howling I rushed into the mine, gun blazing. My aim was true, and the six rounds I put in her readily extinguished any form of life she may have been.

I looked at her victim. In no time she had ripped his throat out, and her sharp claws had shredded his naked body. Nothing I could do for the deceased. Then I turned my gaze to the she-wolf. Even in death she held a certain beauty.

Before I could make another move shadows bolted out of the far reaches of the mine and pounced on me. I never saw what came upon me until it was too late. I would spend eternity as one of them. No longer a man, but now a wolf. And, the big yellow moon shone brightly in the sky overhead.

It was howling time.



Recognized


Be careful what you ask for. You just may get it.

Who says romance and horror don't mix? I always thought they did. Perhaps this will settle that little debate once and for all.







Thanks MKFlood for the use of your picture. Goes so nicely with my little story.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by MKFlood at FanArtReview.com

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