Twisted Imaginings: Vol 1

  Garry Charles

  Published: 2010

  Tag(s): Murder Obsession Mother Whores Sex Death Voices Confession

  Twisted Imaginings: Vol 1

  Garry Charles

  ***

  Feedbooks Edition

  Published by Garry Charles at Feedbooks

  License Notes

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  Thank you for your support.

  Please note that these tales contain writing of a sexual nature and are not intended for anyone under 18.

  Mother Knows Best soon to be a short film from Kim Sonderholm as part of the anthology movie Sinister Visions

  Dance of the Gypsy originally seen in Sein Und Werden: The Duende edition

  MOTHER KNOWS BEST

  Gerald was a mummy’s boy, always had been, always would be.

  Gerald’s mother was a bitch, always had been, always would be… even after he staved her head in with the ivory elephant she’d always loved so much.

  As he sat and remembered that night he smiled sadly for the freedom he'd so hoped for. The freedom he thought he'd wanted so badly, but had been forced to realise he could never have.

  “Bitch.” He threw the half empty glass of scotch onto the fire and the flames greedily ate the liquid fuel.

  “Now, now Gerald.” Her voice filled the room whenever she spoke. “That’s no way to talk about your mother.” Usually when he drank he didn’t hear her.

  “Piss Off,” he yelled into the empty study.

  She'd ruined everything once before. He wouldn’t allow her to do so again. She wouldn't hurt him this time and he wouldn't let her anywhere near Leanne.

  Leanne; his first love, his only love.

  The special one.

  But Mother hadn't thought so.

  They'd first met at college when Gerald was eighteen. He was shy and hence always alone. He wanted friends, but found it impossible to make them. The successes he did have were never to Mother’s liking and so they never grew into real friendships.

  That was until he saw her for the first time.

  She wasn’t beautiful, but to Gerald she was everything he wanted and a little bit more. Every time he saw her walk by his heart would skip a beat and then increase in speed until he was sure his chest would explode. He'd always avert his gaze as she neared, scared to start a conversation for fear of saying anything that would make him sound like a bigger fool than he was sure he already looked.

  He thought about her every minute of every day, especially at night when Mother would visit his room and ask him for love. He would drift away from Mother's heavy handed fumbling, picturing himself with dear, sweet Leanne.

  Some night’s Mother would notice his lack of attention to her administrations and beatings would follow, leaving his chest and ribs bruised and sore for days afterwards.

  “But you know that mummy loves you.” Until the bruises faded she would pamper him like a spoilt pet and during these short spells he would feel more suffocated by her than ever.

  “No wonder Father ran away,” he would think to himself, filled with loss for having never known the man he should have been calling Dad.

  ****

  The happiest day of Gerald’s life had been when the lecturer had paired him with Leanne for the computer studies project. He hadn’t cared much for the lesson, but always looked forward to seeing her sat across the room, watching her from his place at the back of the class. Now he was filled with an all consuming dread. He’d have to speak to her.

  “I’ve seen you around.” She broke the ice and her voice was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. “You never say hello.” Her smile made her even more beautiful in his eyes.

  “My name’s Gerald.” As the words passed his lips he cursed himself for sounding so dumb.

  “I know,” she giggled, resting a hand on his arm and he knew that it was love.

  ****

  Over the weeks that followed he worked on the project and Mother accepted the new friendship. Leanne looked like a good girl that worked hard and, more importantly, didn’t seem to show any romantic interest in her little boy.

  With each day Gerald fell more and more in love and he was sure that Leanne felt the same way. She would frequently touch his arm or his hand as they studied and one night she even kissed him good night. It was only the briefest peek on the cheek, but it left him on a cloud that looked down on number nine.

  And that was the last time he was allowed to see her.

  Mother had seen the act of more than just friends and she did not approve… Not one bit. She'd been wrong about the girl. She was no more than a hussy, only a cheap slut would be so forward with a young man like her Gerald.

  “You’re never to see that girl again.” That night the beating came before the sexual advances and Gerald felt hot tears burn his cheeks as mother moaned in ecstasy above him.

  The next day he didn’t go to college. Instead he spend the day nursing his wounds and arranging a transfer to a college in the city. It was further to travel, but it made Mother happy.

  ****

  Over the years he tried to form relationships with other girls, but after meeting Mother he never heard from them again. They promised to call, but Mother was a powerful woman and she used that power to keep Gerald to herself.

  She ruled his life in every way, organised it from day to day and he began to hate her for it.

  In the end he hated her so much that he killed her. He'd to do it, at least that's what he told himself. It was the only way he’d ever have a life he could call his own.

  When the time came she'd made it so easy for him. The argument had started over dinner and came as a shock to Gerald as he never argued with Mother.

  It was a first and, as it turned out, a last.

  It started because mother didn’t like Jessica. She wasn’t a girlfriend, just an acquaintance from work; work that Mother had arranged for him.

  “I don’t like her,” she said, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a neatly folded napkin. “She’s no better than a whore.” Gerald had heard it all before so many times.

  “You don’t like anyone, do you?” He shocked himself with the tone of his voice. “No wonder father left you.”

  “How dare you!” She flung her chair back, the plate of food in front of her launched directly at him. “You ungrateful little bastard.” The plate smashed into his own and roasted vegetables erupted over his shirt.

  “I wish he’d taken me with him.” Gerald felt good, for the first time in his life he was standing up to the Matriarch. “Anything would be better than living with you.” His face reddened with anger. “You bitter, twisted cow.” Even in such a state of such heated emotion he couldn’t bring himself to swear at mother.

  “He couldn’t have taken you anywhere.” She stormed across the room and made to slap her son.

  “Why’s that?” he caught her by the wrist and squeezed, satisfied to see her flinch.

  “Because I killed the bastard,” she spat the words in his face with spite. “He was weak, just like you,” she growled between clenched teeth that were yellow from years of nicotine abuse.

  Gerald broke, decades of suppressed rage boiled forth and he slapped her hard, her head whip lashing to one side from the force of the blow. He released her wrist and she fell across the table, heavy breaths rasping from her chest.

  “You little shit.” She came up unexpectedly, nailed fingers ready and lunged at Gerald.

  And that was all it took. The elephant was within easy reach and without thinking he snatched it up and swung. It impacted with the side of her head with a sickening crack and she fell at his feet.

  She was still breathing, but the breaths were shallow and blood seeped from her nose and ears. One eye had swollen in the socket, the white now a deep crimson that bulged obscenely.

  “Gerald,” she said his name, feeling around blindly with one hand.

  “Fuck you.” Before she could locate him he brought the elephant down on her face again and again, smashing bone and pulping tissue. “Fuck you.” He continued raining the blows down on her eradicated face long after she was dead.

  ****

  After that things were better; for a while anyway.

  But it started to turn sour not long after Gerald and Jessica became more than friends. He invited her around to his house for dinner, hoping for more. The freedom from Mother finally allowed him to have hope and hope made him happy. The meal was a success, Jessica smiling throughout the main course and complimenting him on his skills as a chef.

  “Mother taught me,” he said with a smile.

  “Where is she? I’d love to meet her.”

  “She’s gone away for a while,” he said it without guilt. “She’s visiting her sister in Wales.”

  “That’s a shame, but it has its advantages.” Her smile was cheeky and the glint in her eye excited Gerald.

  That night he got to make love to a woman that wasn’t his Mother.

  ****

  When he awoke the next morning the bed was empty and there was no sign of Jessica, no note, no nothing.

  It saddened Gerald and after bathing, brushing his teeth and combing his hair he moped around the house in a bad mood.

  “She wasn’t good enough for my boy.” Mother's stern voice shook him to the core. “You deserve so much better.” Gerald stood frozen, his eyes wide and his jaw slack.

  “You’re not real.” With much effort he got his mouth to work, aiming for defiance, but failing.

  “You didn’t think you’d be rid of me that easily.” She teased him, her tone that of talking to a baby.

  “She was nice.” He went to the drinks cabinet and poured vodka into a tall glass.

  “She was a tramp,” she hissed with distaste. “And didn’t I always say that Mother knows best?”

  He continued to drink until her nagging voice was no more than a whisper. It was then that the idea came to him.

  “You want a tramp?” Slamming down the glass he marched into the hallway. “I’ll show you a tramp.” He snatched the car keys from the hook on the wall and flung open the front door.

  “I’ll show you a fucking tramp,” he screamed at the empty house and banged the door shut behind him.

  “Mother knows best.” He heard her laugh from somewhere inside the house.

  “Bitch.” No way would she get the last word, not any more.

  ****

  He knew where to find prostitutes, his colleagues at work were always bragging about their use of the ladies services. Not that Gerald saw the point in bragging. He was only doing it to prove a point. He’d show Mother's memory that if he wanted a real whore then he’d have one.

  It was cold outside the car, but they lined the side of the street en masse, short tops and shorter skirts giving no protection from the weather. At the sight of them Gerald felt himself suddenly aroused, a burning heat that spread throughout his loins in anticipation of what he was about to do.

  The women he knew at work would never dress in such a way and if they did he doubted they would do the things that some of these girls were willing to do. He drove passed them three times, carefully eyeing them. He may have only been looking for a tramp, but he was still picky.

  She was wearing a pink top, cut high to show her belly button piercing and cut low to reveal her impressive cleavage. Her nipples strained at the tin fabric and the darker area of her areola was clearly visible behind the pink. The skirt was short enough to give a flash of white panties and this excited Gerald. As did the black boots that held tightly to her legs, ending mid-thigh and allowing a good view of the tattoo that highlighted the paleness of her skin.

  He pulled the car over slowly and rolled the window down as he came to stop in front of her.

  “Hello.” Awkward as always, he smiled.

  “Hi Handsome.” He blushed at her reply; no one had ever called him handsome.

  “You look cold.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her breasts.

  “Yeah, it’s fucking freezing,” she spoke and her breath misted on the air.

  “You fancy coming back to mine?” His smile broadened, but remained friendly.

  “It’ll cost you extra.” He told her that money wasn’t a problem and she jumped in.

  ****

  Back home mother had decided to shut up which pleased Gerald as he was looking forward to his paid date more than he'd realised.

  “Drink?” he asked, pouring himself a vodka.

  “Gin and tonic.” No please or thank you, the lack of manners turned him on yet he couldn’t explain why.

  “Mother wouldn’t approve,’ he thought to himself.

  She guzzled the drink greedily and looked around the room. “Nice place.” She moved towards the fire and warmed herself.

  “It was Mother's.” He stared at the bottom of his glass.

  “Very nice.” To be honest she didn’t care where she was as long as it got her out of the cold. “So, where do you want me?” She got down to business.

  “Here.” He needed to be naughty, needed to know that Mother would be maddened by the act. “How long can you stay?”

  “All night if the money’s right.” She pulled off her top, exposing milky white breasts that hung large and heavy.

  “Money’s no problem.” He stepped forward and kissed her neck as his hands found her bosoms.

  ****

  The following morning he awoke to an empty house, his wallet open and empty, her white panties left on the floor next to his head as a reminder.

  “I didn’t even ask her name.” He said outload with a grin, picking up the knickers and inhaling the odour of her sex. “See Mother. Now, that was a whore.” He ran his tongue over the gusset, tasting her with a sigh.

  “Dirty boy,” Mother scolded him and he dropped the offending briefs guiltily. “You won’t be seeing that trollop again,” she screamed at him in disgust.

  “I’ll see her if I want,” he answered back, no longer afraid of her in death as he was in life.

  “We’ll see.” Her voice dropped, but the tone remained harsh. “Mother knows best.”

  He tried to ignore her as he went through his morning ablutions, but she was incessant, constantly picking at his self esteem. Once again a day of drinking deadened her moaning until he could hardly hear it.

  “I’ll show you who knows best.” He may not have known her name, but he went out in search for his lady of the night.

  ****

  And just as Mother had predicated he didn’t find her. He did, however, find another. Not as pretty, but she had a dirty image and a dirtier mouth that was sure to annoy mother and in turn that would arouse Gerald.

  He took her home.

  ****

  Just like the morning before the house was empty when Gerald awoke from a settled nights sleep, but this one hadn’t even bothered to leave him a keepsake on the vacated pillow.

  “My poor baby.” Mother was there to comfort him. “Did she leave you without saying goodbye?”

  “Yes.” He felt more alone than he'd ever done in his life and began to cry, great big howling sobs that racked his upper body.

  “You simpering fool.” Having lulled him into a false sense of security she was ready to begin tearing into him. “No better than your father.”

  “Don’t you dare mention my father.” He threw back the bed sheets and gagged.

  “Look at you,” she spoke down to him. “She let you rut her like a filthy beast.” Dirty brown stains covered his manhood and the thought of the act brought fresh bile to his throat.

  “You are a dirty little boy,” she screamed after him as he ran to the bathroom.

  After washing twice he dressed for work, checking himself in the mirror before leaving.

  “I’m just glad we won’t be seeing that harlot again.” Mother hadn’t once let up with her badgering the whole morning.

  “I’m off to work.” At least he could escape her, even if only for eight hours.

  ****

  Leaving the house was a relief, but he knew he’d have to return at the end of the day and the thought filled with an empty sadness that bordered on depression. He wanted to pay her back; if he had to listen to her in a morning then he'd make her suffer on a night. To this end he designed a game plan.

  During the course of the following month he played out his idea just as he’d seen it in his head. Each day after work he didn’t go straight home, instead he’d stop at one of the many bars and drink. Once he thought he’d enough to dull the sound of mother’s infernal wittering he’d chose a woman… any woman.

  It didn’t matter if he had to pay for their services or not, so long as they were willing he’d take them home. And they were always gone the next morning, so what did it matter to Gerald?

  It was a month of battling with mother, a battle where neither of them gained any ground

  ****

  And then she walked back into his life and the status quo of living with Mother's memory was shattered.

  Leanne… Older, but still as beautiful as he remembered.

  Her presence filled with hope. Hope that he could finally beat mother and have the happiness that he deserved.

  “I didn’t like her back then.” Mother harassed him over the office phone. “And I don’t like her now.”

  “I don’t care what you think.” He kept his voice near the mouth piece and whispered. “I lost her once because of you but I won’t lose her again.” He slammed the phone down and took a deep breath.

  Leanne.

  He’d never expected to see her again, especially at his work. But there she’d been, smiling in recognition of her old friend.

 

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