Hive - Chapter 1 - The Hangover
Posted Jul 25, 2004
Last Updated May 18, 2006
Danny woke up to a dull ache in the front of his head. How much did I drink last night? He rubbed his eyes and tried to recall the night before. Ritchie introduced me to that guy. Carl. Then we went… then we went, shit, somewhere. Carl was in the alley. What had he called the stuff? Brickhouse? Ritchie was messed up. That girl scares me. Carl was tall. Really freaky tall. There were lights. Cops? No, no cops. Shit, How’d I get home?
“Damn!” Danny jumped when the cat landed on his chest.
“Digger, off!” The cat responded to the female voice by sitting on Danny’s face.
“Ritchie?” moaned Danny through a ball of fur. Two scarred, but feminine hands picked the cat up gently and sat him on the floor.
“I said off.” Ritchie kissed Danny quickly on the lips. “Don’t worry love, I woke up here, but I still had my clothes on.”
Danny had met Ritchie a few years ago at a carnival. She was running one of those guess-your-birthday booths. She had come up to him grabbed his ass and said…
“Aug 15. Happy birthday Danny.” Ritchie presented Danny with a little cake with a small flashlight rammed in the middle. “Sorry I couldn’t find any candles.”
“Isn’t it a little early for cake?”
“It’s four in the afternoon, love, you’ve slept all day. Now shower up and drive me home.”
Danny found it hard to concentrate on driving. The headache hadn’t gone away, and something was racing through the back of his mind. It was like a thousand thoughts happening at once, but if he tried to concentrate on just one, they all slipped past his consciousness. Ritchie was droning on about some movie she had seen on TV about drunk drivers.
Drunk drivers. Danny moved the thought to the back of his mind.
“Shit! Danny.” Ritchie slammed into the dash as the car screeched to a halt, turning sideways. A Pontiac Sunfire sped through the red light.
“That guy almost killed us.”
“Are you OK?”
“Bastard didn’t even slow down.” Danny pulled his car into the corner gas station. After a few seconds, traffic started up again.
Ritchie lived across town in a small basement apartment. She was a little embarrassed by it, and she never let anyone in. She always played it off as something mysterious, and wild rumors spread amongst her friends about what she kept down there.
“Are you sure you're fine?” Danny said as Ritchie got out of the car.
“Yeah I’m just a little stiff.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Danny had always wanted Ritchie but nothing ever happened. She flirted with Danny a lot more than the guys she went home with. Danny figured it was because she thought he was safe. God Ritchie. Just invite me in.
“Yeah Danny. Come in and give me a massage.” Ritchie couldn’t believe what she was saying.
Ritchie’s basement was nothing much to look at. It was a large room, with a small bathroom dry-walled off in one corner and a closet in the other. It had a thick, brown shag carpet, and no furniture save a king-sized mattress in the corner. The walls were whitewashed, and had only one decoration, a movie poster for “Revenge of the Sideshow.” A stack of books lay in a neat pile, with all the bindings facing the wall.
The day Ritchie met Danny she knew it would never work out. He was much too good for her. She knew he wanted her, but she also knew that Danny would want commitment, a relationship, marriage, kids, a summer cabin, and everything else the American dream could vomit out. She wasn’t ready for that; she would never be ready for that. But she let him into her basement, and she had never let anyone into her basement before.
“Nice place you have here,” Danny said, trying to be polite.
“Bullshit.” Ritchie open the closet and found her bottle of hot-oil.
“Is this your favorite movie?” Danny pointed to the poster. I wish I knew you better Ritchie.
“No, I was in that movie.” She had never told anyone that before, either. They filmed it at the carnival where she worked. She had this scene where she guessed this guy’s age at 25, but he turned out to be a four hundred year-old vampire, who claimed his prize by sucking her blood through a curly straw.
Ritchie took her shirt off and lay belly down on the mattress. “I’m ready.”
Danny straddled her and unhooked her bra. He rubbed a little oil on his hands, and began making long deep strokes into her back.
“Shit, that feels good. Where’d you learn to do that?”
“Boy scout camp. Now just relax and take deep breaths.” Danny started concentrating on the shoulders as Ritchie’s body heaved up and down with each long breath. A fantasy surfaced in Danny’s mind. He imagined her rolling over, and pulling him down slowly, until there lips touched… No. That’s not right. He pushed the fantasy into the back of his mind.
Ritchie had never wanted anyone so badly before. No. It wouldn’t work out. But something in the back of her mind compelled her. She managed somehow to turn over, and then she grabbed Danny’s neck with the back of her hand. She pulled him down on top of her, and kissed him with a passion she didn’t know she had.
“Damn!” Danny jumped when the cat landed on his chest.
“Digger, off!” The cat responded to the female voice by sitting on Danny’s face.
“Ritchie?” moaned Danny through a ball of fur. Two scarred, but feminine hands picked the cat up gently and sat him on the floor.
“I said off.” Ritchie kissed Danny quickly on the lips. “Don’t worry love, I woke up here, but I still had my clothes on.”
Danny had met Ritchie a few years ago at a carnival. She was running one of those guess-your-birthday booths. She had come up to him grabbed his ass and said…
“Aug 15. Happy birthday Danny.” Ritchie presented Danny with a little cake with a small flashlight rammed in the middle. “Sorry I couldn’t find any candles.”
“Isn’t it a little early for cake?”
“It’s four in the afternoon, love, you’ve slept all day. Now shower up and drive me home.”
Danny found it hard to concentrate on driving. The headache hadn’t gone away, and something was racing through the back of his mind. It was like a thousand thoughts happening at once, but if he tried to concentrate on just one, they all slipped past his consciousness. Ritchie was droning on about some movie she had seen on TV about drunk drivers.
Drunk drivers. Danny moved the thought to the back of his mind.
“Shit! Danny.” Ritchie slammed into the dash as the car screeched to a halt, turning sideways. A Pontiac Sunfire sped through the red light.
“That guy almost killed us.”
“Are you OK?”
“Bastard didn’t even slow down.” Danny pulled his car into the corner gas station. After a few seconds, traffic started up again.
Ritchie lived across town in a small basement apartment. She was a little embarrassed by it, and she never let anyone in. She always played it off as something mysterious, and wild rumors spread amongst her friends about what she kept down there.
“Are you sure you're fine?” Danny said as Ritchie got out of the car.
“Yeah I’m just a little stiff.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Danny had always wanted Ritchie but nothing ever happened. She flirted with Danny a lot more than the guys she went home with. Danny figured it was because she thought he was safe. God Ritchie. Just invite me in.
“Yeah Danny. Come in and give me a massage.” Ritchie couldn’t believe what she was saying.
Ritchie’s basement was nothing much to look at. It was a large room, with a small bathroom dry-walled off in one corner and a closet in the other. It had a thick, brown shag carpet, and no furniture save a king-sized mattress in the corner. The walls were whitewashed, and had only one decoration, a movie poster for “Revenge of the Sideshow.” A stack of books lay in a neat pile, with all the bindings facing the wall.
The day Ritchie met Danny she knew it would never work out. He was much too good for her. She knew he wanted her, but she also knew that Danny would want commitment, a relationship, marriage, kids, a summer cabin, and everything else the American dream could vomit out. She wasn’t ready for that; she would never be ready for that. But she let him into her basement, and she had never let anyone into her basement before.
“Nice place you have here,” Danny said, trying to be polite.
“Bullshit.” Ritchie open the closet and found her bottle of hot-oil.
“Is this your favorite movie?” Danny pointed to the poster. I wish I knew you better Ritchie.
“No, I was in that movie.” She had never told anyone that before, either. They filmed it at the carnival where she worked. She had this scene where she guessed this guy’s age at 25, but he turned out to be a four hundred year-old vampire, who claimed his prize by sucking her blood through a curly straw.
Ritchie took her shirt off and lay belly down on the mattress. “I’m ready.”
Danny straddled her and unhooked her bra. He rubbed a little oil on his hands, and began making long deep strokes into her back.
“Shit, that feels good. Where’d you learn to do that?”
“Boy scout camp. Now just relax and take deep breaths.” Danny started concentrating on the shoulders as Ritchie’s body heaved up and down with each long breath. A fantasy surfaced in Danny’s mind. He imagined her rolling over, and pulling him down slowly, until there lips touched… No. That’s not right. He pushed the fantasy into the back of his mind.
Ritchie had never wanted anyone so badly before. No. It wouldn’t work out. But something in the back of her mind compelled her. She managed somehow to turn over, and then she grabbed Danny’s neck with the back of her hand. She pulled him down on top of her, and kissed him with a passion she didn’t know she had.
- Related Topics
