Page 11 of Neon Pestilence
“These kids go out and they want it loud, loud, loud.”
Pwaaaaaaaaaa.
“And if it’s not loud enough.”
Tick, tick, tick.
“Make it louder.”
“Drop it.”
Tuh, tuh, tuh, tuh, tuh tuh, tuh, tuh, tuhhhhhh.
“There’s only one place that I know that gets that loud.”
Silence.
“Hallow Lands.”
Bwaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh.
The sound of a siren fills the area. Gods, I really didn’t want to miss this set, but fuck it. At least I can still listen to it from here.
I lock my gaze back on the tent in front of me, as the electronic notes shake the ground under my feet. I move forward on instinct; the looming tent in front of me is candle-coated and calling to me like an omen.
I’m only a couple of feet away from the entrance when a petite girl comes out of the tent. She’s glitter-soaked and obviously rolling on something as she smiles at me, motioning to the tent.
“The doctor will see you now,” she states plainly, like she’s under some sort of trance. Nodding her head, she bows slightly and then walks away. Hm? Must be his assistant or something.
“Cool, cool, cool,” I mutter to myself, chills running up my spine as I move forward. A couple of steps and I reach the entrance of the tent, my heart is pounding so hard in my chest I might have a heart attack. At least I’ll be with a doctor when it happens.
I sigh to myself at the shitty joke and take a deep breath, gripping the worn black nylon on my fingers.
“No better time than the present,” I tell myself, before walking straight into the Doctor’s den.
Chapter 10
The Doctor
There she is, a vision of death and desire.
Covered in black with wings that wrap around her like velvet shadows. She’s stunning. A woman who could have every man at this festival falling at her feet. But instead, she’s here. Inmytent, withme. Oh, how the Old Gods have blessed this dirtied soul.
“H-hi,” she stutters, eyes wide and frantically searching. What for? I’m not sure. Maybe an escape or maybe an explanation. I won’t be giving her either.
“The glitter-soaked chick outside told me you were waiting for me,” she fiddles with the feathers wrapping around her, nervous, it seems. I motion for her to sit on the exam chair in the middle of my tent.
She obeys, not even giving me a second glance. I turn to my instrument table, straightening it. “Sooo, uhh, are you like stalking me or something?” My head whips to where she’s sitting, legs wide with her elbows on her knees. Her face rests on her knuckles, head tilted just a little.
She’s more curious than scared right now, and it makes me want to fuck her right on my examination table. Show her why I’m so much better than a measlystalker.
But now’s not the time for pleasure, it’s time for precision. I grab the scalpel off the table in front of me. The candles around us flicker, like they’re waiting for a show, and fuck, I’m going to give them one. I walk toward her, slow and calculated.
“Uhhmm, what are you doing?” She questions, moving her hands behind her so her back is arched. Bending her knees and moving her feet to prop up on the bottom of the table, as if she’s preparing to scramble away.
I’m going to take care of you.I project through my thoughts, knowing that the essence she took allows her to hear me. She whimpers and breathes out slowly. Her eyes are blown wide, and I know she’s trying to wrap her acid-induced brain around everything happening.
Moving quickly, I wrap my fingers around her jumpsuit, pulling it away from her dripping wet center. Her breath hitches as she watches me, waiting to see what I’m going to do. I move the cold blade down her thick thigh, grazing her with the sharp metal.
