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31_days2005-09-20 07:59 pm
swollenfoot.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-09-20 07:59 pm
[September 20] [original] News Flash
Title: News Flash
Day/Theme: September 20 / Chinatown fiction
Series: original
Character/Pairing: some guy
Rating: R - um, gore & language
7:10pm
Somewhere in the innermost portion of his wasted brain, an awareness existed that recoiled with revulsion at the overpowering stench of puke and nicotine straddling his chapped, hideously grinning lips, at the stale alcohol and days-old sweat baked onto his pampered body. The six-pack he sported, the black belts displayed in his bedroom—they’d have made convenient nooses; god, why didn’t he think of that? Earned by sheer vanity, they were as useless and worthless as ever.
A strange quirk in his neck snapped his head sideways, sending the world into convulsions for a jarring second. Then his eyes focused, and there was the undressed ceiling again and the sinuous dance of smoke with the voluptuous shadows. In the background, the squeals and grunts of human lovemaking drizzled down his ears, and their tentative fingering of his unanchored consciousness roused some primordial wiring up his head and, as the sensory information piled up, mounted to a deluge that swept down his groin.
Lazily, he moved to paw at his crotch, but he couldn’t quite find his fingers. His search knocked him off the rotting chair and he slipped, sprawling face first on the greasy cement. Which reminded him: he didn’t need to do any self-servicing. The whore was still there, with her slit in her middle and her hot engorged flesh conveniently available.
He snickered at his own cleverness. Slit in the middle. Oh, she gaped invitingly open to his face now, her disemboweled torso a voracious cunt dripping in virginal blood. Her guts still quivered now and then, orgasmic little twitches that desperately tried to hold on to their split-second life spans.
She had been hysterical, the stupid bitch, screaming for the saints and demigods and politicians while the transactions were ongoing via cellphone. The idiot didn’t trust him or his family—god, didn’t she recognize his name?—and now she’s just a smudge on the floor. The burly shadow that did away with her was methodical and brutal, hacking her body to pieces with several efficient blows of the foot-long bolo. Dying or screwing, she screamed the same way, grating in his ears, vulgar and offensive.
Come to think of it, his mind struggled to process, she was too pretty and too soft to be a prostitute. A high-born slut like him, then, he decided, with inhibitions indirectly proportional to her buying power. He even couldn’t remember her name, much less where he picked her up. She was a fleshy sort of creature, the sort that could play at his level, fuck as hard, spend us much. He was almost sorry to realize no amount of money would be able to repair her mangled corpse.
What was that?
The girl, not hearing his question or the noise itself, kept on with her fishy stare, so he ignored her.
Several rounds of thunder, one almost on top of the other. On wild nights of the typhoon season, there was something larger than him, bigger than the enormous shell he built around his brittle ego. He loved the immensity of storms and their winds. He worshiped the omnipotence of lightning as it shredded the skies----the arrogance, the rawness, the absolute freedom! He was scared of thunder. Now, it was only a sound.
...his thoughts were slurring. Fuck. He should have known that last batch was no good. His neck was burning... must be some sort of reaction to that cheap shit. He used to know about those reactions, used to obsessively delineate the pathophysiology, used to do pointless things like that.
The thunder still came, again and again. He was lulled by its piercing rhythm, was sunk to a serenity he had never felt in his life before.
The last thing his saw, before sleep completely engulfed him, was the graceful, arcing way blood spurted before his face. Then he was snoring, and the red fluid gurgling in his throat was just a noise.
---
The next day, while the usual traffic report was being delivered, the following messages were flashed on screen:
Don’t let the going get you down. Drink Aburido, energy drink!
For faster relief from hemorrhoids, take Ka-Ha, your trusted brand of Preparation H.
News Flash! Unico ijo and girlfriend found dead by cops after botched rescue attempt. No comment from family yet. 3 suspects dead, 2 escaped.
Matsing and Saging’s Chicken House. Caters for parties. Call 632-M-A-N-O-K.
News Flash! Police chief fired for mismanagement of kidnaping case. 4th suspect found dead. 1 still at large. City mayor offers condolence, demands justice.
Don’t deny, call Amy Nina Salon for your beautification appointments! Special offer on Tuesdays only: Cut and style for only 200 Php! Manicure + Pedicure 150 Php!
Placido’s auto-shop. Corner Quezon Ave. & Agham Rd. Free Car Was with oil change.
~September 20, 2005 (9:44pm)
Had no ideas what "chinatown fiction" meant, so I researched a bit (with google XD). Two things kept coming up. One, the film "Chinatown," which I haven't seen, and Chinese-american literature. >__> Every reference to the movie "Chinatown" put it under the film noir. And... O__o Key words: brutal, violent, dark, cynical, sadistic, shadowy...
unico ijo - in tagalog, refers to the only boy child of a family (the connotation in the news flash is that he is a rich only-boy child)
bolo - machete; large heavy knife used to cut sugarcane and used as a weapon (and sometimes, chopping people)
Day/Theme: September 20 / Chinatown fiction
Series: original
Character/Pairing: some guy
Rating: R - um, gore & language
7:10pm
Somewhere in the innermost portion of his wasted brain, an awareness existed that recoiled with revulsion at the overpowering stench of puke and nicotine straddling his chapped, hideously grinning lips, at the stale alcohol and days-old sweat baked onto his pampered body. The six-pack he sported, the black belts displayed in his bedroom—they’d have made convenient nooses; god, why didn’t he think of that? Earned by sheer vanity, they were as useless and worthless as ever.
A strange quirk in his neck snapped his head sideways, sending the world into convulsions for a jarring second. Then his eyes focused, and there was the undressed ceiling again and the sinuous dance of smoke with the voluptuous shadows. In the background, the squeals and grunts of human lovemaking drizzled down his ears, and their tentative fingering of his unanchored consciousness roused some primordial wiring up his head and, as the sensory information piled up, mounted to a deluge that swept down his groin.
Lazily, he moved to paw at his crotch, but he couldn’t quite find his fingers. His search knocked him off the rotting chair and he slipped, sprawling face first on the greasy cement. Which reminded him: he didn’t need to do any self-servicing. The whore was still there, with her slit in her middle and her hot engorged flesh conveniently available.
He snickered at his own cleverness. Slit in the middle. Oh, she gaped invitingly open to his face now, her disemboweled torso a voracious cunt dripping in virginal blood. Her guts still quivered now and then, orgasmic little twitches that desperately tried to hold on to their split-second life spans.
She had been hysterical, the stupid bitch, screaming for the saints and demigods and politicians while the transactions were ongoing via cellphone. The idiot didn’t trust him or his family—god, didn’t she recognize his name?—and now she’s just a smudge on the floor. The burly shadow that did away with her was methodical and brutal, hacking her body to pieces with several efficient blows of the foot-long bolo. Dying or screwing, she screamed the same way, grating in his ears, vulgar and offensive.
Come to think of it, his mind struggled to process, she was too pretty and too soft to be a prostitute. A high-born slut like him, then, he decided, with inhibitions indirectly proportional to her buying power. He even couldn’t remember her name, much less where he picked her up. She was a fleshy sort of creature, the sort that could play at his level, fuck as hard, spend us much. He was almost sorry to realize no amount of money would be able to repair her mangled corpse.
What was that?
The girl, not hearing his question or the noise itself, kept on with her fishy stare, so he ignored her.
Several rounds of thunder, one almost on top of the other. On wild nights of the typhoon season, there was something larger than him, bigger than the enormous shell he built around his brittle ego. He loved the immensity of storms and their winds. He worshiped the omnipotence of lightning as it shredded the skies----the arrogance, the rawness, the absolute freedom! He was scared of thunder. Now, it was only a sound.
...his thoughts were slurring. Fuck. He should have known that last batch was no good. His neck was burning... must be some sort of reaction to that cheap shit. He used to know about those reactions, used to obsessively delineate the pathophysiology, used to do pointless things like that.
The thunder still came, again and again. He was lulled by its piercing rhythm, was sunk to a serenity he had never felt in his life before.
The last thing his saw, before sleep completely engulfed him, was the graceful, arcing way blood spurted before his face. Then he was snoring, and the red fluid gurgling in his throat was just a noise.
---
The next day, while the usual traffic report was being delivered, the following messages were flashed on screen:
Don’t let the going get you down. Drink Aburido, energy drink!
For faster relief from hemorrhoids, take Ka-Ha, your trusted brand of Preparation H.
News Flash! Unico ijo and girlfriend found dead by cops after botched rescue attempt. No comment from family yet. 3 suspects dead, 2 escaped.
Matsing and Saging’s Chicken House. Caters for parties. Call 632-M-A-N-O-K.
News Flash! Police chief fired for mismanagement of kidnaping case. 4th suspect found dead. 1 still at large. City mayor offers condolence, demands justice.
Don’t deny, call Amy Nina Salon for your beautification appointments! Special offer on Tuesdays only: Cut and style for only 200 Php! Manicure + Pedicure 150 Php!
Placido’s auto-shop. Corner Quezon Ave. & Agham Rd. Free Car Was with oil change.
~September 20, 2005 (9:44pm)
Had no ideas what "chinatown fiction" meant, so I researched a bit (with google XD). Two things kept coming up. One, the film "Chinatown," which I haven't seen, and Chinese-american literature. >__> Every reference to the movie "Chinatown" put it under the film noir. And... O__o Key words: brutal, violent, dark, cynical, sadistic, shadowy...
unico ijo - in tagalog, refers to the only boy child of a family (the connotation in the news flash is that he is a rich only-boy child)
bolo - machete; large heavy knife used to cut sugarcane and used as a weapon (and sometimes, chopping people)