A Jack O'Callahan Mystery: Black Leather and Blackmail, Issue #6

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Writers Note: So. This issue is fairly explicit; including some lets that savory things...  (Language and Rape) I do not encourage or condone rape, in fact I have friends that have been raped. I find it terrible and disgusting. But, rape is something that happens. I included it because even though it is a terrible thing because I wanted to show that no character is perfect. We all have done things that we regret. If things like that bother you, I recommend skipping this issue.

Warning: This post may contain mature content.

     Jack opened his eyes. He was in Cordell’s apartment, the living room to be exact. She was next to him, her leg thrown over his lap. Her heat warmed his side. Her sapphire head was nestled in his armpit. He could feel her breath on his chest, slow and steady. He admired the curve of her back, down to her firm bottom and to her shapely legs. Her soft but perky breasts were pressed into his abdomen. He smiled. He shifted and she stirred. Her head rose. 

     “You’re a good lay,” she murmured. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

     “You are too,” grinned Jack. She sat up. He eyed her breasts. Perfection, he thought. She pulled his chin up so he would look into her violet eyes.

     “My eyes are up here.” She grinned. 

     “Your eyes are just as beautiful as your tits,” commented Jack. She tossed her head back laughing.

     “If only your face was as beautiful as your dick,” she giggled. He jumped as her cold hand wrapped around him. 

     “Hey!” He grabbed her shoulders and flipped her onto her back.

     “Oh! I thought you liked being on the bottom.” She bit her lip. Jack leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. She ran her hands down his back. Her thin fingers traced a scar that stretched from his mid back to his hip. “You never told me how you got this.” Jack got off of her and sat on the couch. His grey eyes stared through the wall. She sat up.

     “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” she apologized. Jack picked up his trousers and slid them up. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. There was one left. Fuck. He put it in his mouth and patted his pockets down. There was a click. His eyes flashed towards Cordell. She held out his lighter, her lavender eyes apologetic. He leaned forward and held the cigarette in the flame.

     “I really am sorry.” She begged for his forgiveness. He pulled the the cigarette from his lips and exhaled.

     “We’ve known each other for seven years now… I figure you should know.” He looked at her, his grey eyes dead, “You have to promise me something though.” 

     “What ever you say.”

     “Promise me that no matter what I tell you, you will still love me,” he said in a monotone. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

     “I promise.” 

     “Alright.”

     It was Singapore. I was sixteen. I had just joined up. We had been fighting the Long-Ko Gang for five months. Brutal fighting; street to street, building to building, room to room. I had lost most of my platoon. I had been promoted three times. I had watched my best friend get blown apart by mine that had been tucked into a medicine cabinet. He just wanted to get a god damn fucking aspirin. His blood and bones splattered against my armor. I was furious. I wanted revenge. The next week we finally found the boss. The leader of the mob. We stormed his palace. Nice digs. It was a shame to get blood all over the place. It was me who found him. But it wasn’t a him. It was a her. She was the mastermind behind my friend getting blown to hell.  We where alone. She was feeble and old. I was young and full of fury. I slammed the bitch up agains the wall. I ripped her clothes and spit in her face. I beat her. I made her bleed. I wanted to defile her. I pulled my armor off. And undid my belt. Tears streamed down her face. Good. Suddenly there was pain down my back.  I fell to the ground. I fell to the floor. Thats when I saw her. She was gorgeous. Black hair, black eyes. A katana was clutched in her hand, beads of blood dripped to the floor. I asked her who she was, and she told me. She was the leader. The old woman was her mother. She placed the blade at my neck. Adrenaline coarsed through my veins. I pushed the sword away and hit her with a left hook. She fell to the ground. I had knocked her out. I picked up her body and slung it over the desk. I slashed her belt off with my knife, and tore her pants off. I ran my hand over her muscular ass and between her legs. It was just then when she began to regain conciseness. I put my pistol at the back of her neck. I told her that if she struggled I would put one through her head. I forced myself inside her. She began to cry but I didn’t care. I pushed harder and harder. She began to scream. I finally finished inside her.  I left her crying on that desk. My seed dripping from her pussy. I put myself back into my pants. Then I blew her head clean off. I shot her mother too; right between the eyes. I dropped to my knees. The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital.

     Jack took a long drag off his cigarette. He couldn’t bare to look at Cordell. She sat there in silence. Say something damn it! Then she did something he did not expect. She swung her leg across his lap and straddled him. He looked up at her. Her face was somber. She kissed him. He could taste the wax flavor of her lipstick on his lips.

     “I still love you” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around his head and held him against her bosom. He closed his eyes as tears began to stream from his eyes. They ran over her chest and fell to his lap. Her perfume was calming.

     “I’m a monster,” he wept.

     “The past is the past,” cooed Cordell. 

     They sat there for hours in silence.  It was Jack who broke the silence.

     “Is your program finished working?” he asked. She twisted and leaned towards her computer. 

     “Yes. I have your address,” she began.

     “What is it?” 

     “405 West Wisconsin Street,” she stated.

     “I should get going,” he grunted.

     “Alright.” She didn’t argue, and slid off his lap. He got dressed and headed for the door. She pulled on her panties and shirt, and followed him to the door.

     “Be safe,” she whispered.

     “I always am sweetheart.” He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him.

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The Watchers

While you go out with friends... While you hold those loved ones close... While you sleep in your bed so warm, we are watching, listening, thinking, planing. Humans are such a simple species. They band together when threatened in such humorous displays. They slaughter each other with surprising ease. They show no remorse and regret. They pick out those that are different and push them out of their groups and civilization with seemingly no reason. Whispering into our heads, telling us how we are different, assuring insanity. Lock us away, Imprisoned in alabaster walls... We watch, and wait. Waiting for our time. If it were not for us, humanity would still be trapped in the dark, sitting in caves, grunting like apes. We are the ones that propelled the human mind. Created the tools, gave you fire... Without us, you would be nothing except primitive monsters. Well. you still are primitive monsters, afraid of change, afraid of someone who thinks in different ways, fighting and killing. One day, I don't know when, but we will rise, and you will tremble in fear, and throw yourselves at our feet, for you will know what it is like to be cast out. We will run you down with hounds. Hack you limb from limb. We remember your sins against us, and we are wrathful!

But until that day. Go about your pathetic, boring lives. Laugh while you can. Because we are content to wait. But when the time comes. We will show you our power, and you will bow in fear!

A Jack O'Callahan Mystery: Black Leather and Blackmail, Issue #5

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Warning: This post may contain mature content.

     They stepped out into a room with red walls and black trim. A leather couch and matching love seat sat nestled in the corner. A black semi-circular desk was positioned in front of a long hallway. A woman wearing a black Mandarin style leather dress with a deep purple trim. Her make up was dark and made her eyes stand out. Her neon purple hair was smooth and hung over one eye. David noticed a black leather collar around her thin neck. She looked up as David and Jenn approached. She smiled displaying her perfect teeth.
     “Good Afternoon, you must be Miss Bianco.” welcomed the woman.
     “Yes, but please, call me Jenn,” requested Jenn. David looked at the ground.
     “As you wish,” stated the woman, “Do you have any preferences for a room?”
     “I was thinking something homely; something comfortable,” requested Jenn. The woman turned to a computer screen and her fingers began to dance across the keyboard.
     “The Red Room is available,” said the woman, turning the screen, so Jenn and David could see it. The room was painted with a deep crimson paint.  A four poster bed of dark stained wood was covered in deep red sheets. A large mirror hung on the wall and a large x-frame with leather cuffs leaned against a wall. David and Jenn shared a quick look.
     “Yes. That would be perfect,” cooed Jenn. The woman behind the desk, spun in her chair and stood. 
     “If you would follow me please,” she said, gesturing for them to follow her. They walked around the desk and followed the woman down the hallway. As soon as David stepped into the hallway, a buzz echoed as a red light flashed. The woman spun around and glared at them. She held out her pale hand.
     “We do not allow weapons in our dungeon,” she said in a severe tone. Jenn looked at David, with the same intensity. 
     “Well! Give it to her!” commanded Jenn. David jumped. He reached into his jacket, unhooked the retention strap on his holster and withdrew his pistol. He handed the pistol to the woman.
     “You can have this back when you leave,” she assured him. She spun back around and continued down the hall. She led them to a door, which she opened. Inside was the room displayed on the screen. 
     “Mistress Joy will be with you momentarily,” informed the woman as they stepped inside. 
     “Thank you,” said Jenn. The woman closed the door, leaving David and Jenn alone. David looked around.
     “Alright, we only have a few moments before she comes back,” said David. 
     “Right. So if this is where he was tied… The camera had to have been…” Jenn pointed to the corner, “There.” David moved over to the corner. 
     “Yeah, look! There is a camera here… Albeit a small one,” said David. He jumped as he heard the door opening. In the door was a woman in a black tight leather pencil skirt; a leather corset accentuated her curves and pushed her chest into a nearly impossible bust line. Her legs were smooth, and long. Her five-inch stiletto platform heels gave a dominating height and presence. Her deep brunette hair hung to her shoulders, framing a square, yet feminine jawline. 
     “Mistress Joy?” asked Jenn. The woman smiled, nodded and shut the door.

*****
     It was raining when Jack arrived at Cordell’s apartment. He stood outside her apartment door, thinking. What is this city coming to? Blackmail with out money demands? Mysterious voices on phones… Shit. This town is going to hell. He reached up and knocked on the door. Cordell opened the door with a big smile on her face, but the smile was wiped from her face when she looked at Jack.
     “What’s wrong?” she asked. 
     “Got a lot on my mind,” muttered Jack. 
     “Well come on in,” said Cordell stepping aside. Jack stepped in. Cordell helped him pull his coat off and hung it in the closet. She also picked his hat off his head and hung it on a peg. She led him to the living room. Jack plopped down on the couch, taking a deep breath. Cordell slid next to him.
     “So what’s bothering you?” she asked. God damn it. You can’t tell her. Tell her about the voice, but not what the voice said about her. She loves you. You can trust her.
     “Just work stuff. I got this really strange call about a month ago. I haven’t been able to put it out of my head,” explained Jack. Cordell brushed her lips across his cheek. 
     “Who called you?” she asked.
     “I don’t know. It was this woman’s voice. It was smooth and soft, but incredibly intimidating,” murmured Jack. Cordell straightened. Jack looked at her, “What?”
     “There has been rumors circulating the runner community about a mysterious voice handing out threats, and if the person didn’t comply, they vanished. I mean like gone. No record,” reported Cordell.
     “Well, I’m still here,” said Jack. 
     “I’m glad,” said Cordell. She laid her head on his shoulder.
     “Me too… Me too.” Jack exhaled, “Oh, I have something for you. It’s for a case.”
     “Sure! What is it?” she asked. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out the flash drive the alderman gave him.
     “This. I need you to find out where these pictures came from, originally,” requested Jack. Cordell plucked the flash drive from Jack’s fingers.
     “Let’s take a look.” She grinned. She got up and walked into the other room. She returned carrying a laptop. She sat next to Jack and opened the screen. She plugged the flash drive in and began to view the files.
     “Whoa…” she breathed as she scrolled through the pictures.
     “Can you find it?” asked Jack
     “Yeah. No problem,” she said. She began to run a program. “Though, It is going to take a while.” She set the laptop on the coffee table. She swung her leg over Jack lap, and pressed her lips against his. Their tongues intertwined and Jack pulled her close. He wrapped his arms around her waist and they fell to the couch.

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Next>>

Check back in next week for the next issue of The Jack O'Callahan Mysteries!

Please support me on Patreon! Donations are on a monthly basis, so you can make sure you don't go over your carefully constructed budget! Every donation is a step to my goal of being able to write full time! Help me realize my goal here!

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Rubi Rascke: Runner for Hire #8

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     The Saloon Tavern was jam packed when Rubi and Cal arrived. All sorts of runners where sitting about swapping stories and getting drunk. Rubi spotted Wynnefred chatting up a muscular man with dreadlocks and tattoos. She seemed pretty drunk. Harlot, thought Rubi. They headed towards the stairs, weaving in and out of the tables. They garnered several cat calls from the drunken patrons, men and women. Rubi blushed, looked to the floor and hurried towards the stairs. Cal on the other hand, blew kisses to the cat-callers. They headed up the stairs and stepped up to Madame Loxi’s office door. Rubi pressed the button on the intercom. It buzzed. The screen flashed and showed the feed from the security camera.

     “Yes?” came Madame Loxi’s harsh voice.

     “We have the goods,” said Rubi. There was another buzz followed by a metallic click. Rubi pulled open the door and she and Cal stepped in. 

Madame Loxi looked up from her monitor when Rubi and Cal entered.

     “Ah, Rubi! How was it? Not too hard I hope,” queried Madame Loxi. 

“We got some static. But it was nothing we couldn’t handle,” said Rubi. She flinched as she slid her backpack off. The anesthetic from the bio foam began to wear off. She pulled her lap top from the bag placed it on the desk and opened the screen. Rubi moved the stolen data to a disc and began to burn the information. Once the process was completed she ejected the disk and handed it to Madame Loxi. “That’s everything,” said Rubi. Madame Loxi inserted the disk into her computer and began to look over the files. 

     “Well done Miss Rascke,” congratulated Madame Loxi, “I’ll transfer the funds to your respective accounts.” 

     “Wiz,” said Rubi. She and Cal turned and left the office. Once they were outside Cal turned to Rubi.

     “So, You up for a drink? I’m paying” she asked, holding up her credcard. 

     “I don’t know,” muttered Rubi, stepping to the railing and looking down into the crowded bar. Cal slid her arm around Rubi’s. 

     “Awww, come on!” pleaded Cal. A burst of pain shot up Rubi’s arm as Cal tugged on it. She yelped. “Oh! Sorry!” apologized Cal, letting go of Rubi.

     “Could we go to a different bar?” asked Rubi. 

     “Sure!” smiled Cal. They left the bar and headed onto the streets.

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Thoughts on the Matter: Horror Stories in Fiction and Film

A great horror writer [H.P. Lovecraft] once said, "The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown." I agree.

While I might not be afraid of the dark itself. I do fear the things that lurk in the dark. The things that I cannot see. Fear is one the most powerful emotion that exists. We fear loss, death, pain, solitude, etc. 

I myself don't enjoy most horror films. Now when I say 'horror films' I'm referring to the monster movies, and slasher flicks. I am easily startled by sudden movements and loud noises, so jump scares basically give me cardiac arrest. Now the kinds of horror that I do love are the ones that make you think, the ones that take real life and make you think, 'oh my god, that could actually be real.'  The films that are more psychological and cause you to think. 

Cabin in the Woods is a great example of that. While it is technically a spoof of the horror genre, It combines the typical horror story with an element of Cosmic Horror. Also anything Joss Whedon has any role in is pure gold.


Horror in literature is completely different from film, in the idea that it can't rely on timing and terrifying imagery. It relies on the basis that a person's imagination will scare them more than anything else. Mary Shelly and Bram Stoker, while labeled by most people as 'Horror', in my opinion are not in my paradigm of horror as the stories don't scare me. To me they are Gothic Fiction.

Horror books to me are the writings of H.P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, and Steven King. Those stories to me are terrifying because they make me think, or they tell the stories that discuss the perversion of the human mind.

 

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