Dear RPers,

They say "when in doubt, write what you know”. So, to pursue a long-term dream of mine and in light of some recent compliments (and criticisms) within the past few weeks, I've decided to continue working on a book I’d begun several months back. The book, while fiction, will be inspired by past events.

This is not a recant of the truth or authenticity of previous posts (I still stand behind the fact "The Man Eater" is truth), although the character name from some posts (mainly Delilah) originated from this books creation.

The story and plot development will encompass some deeper RP influences, similar to the subplot of “Such Is My Nature” (although not as heavy-handed). Because this will be work of fiction (which has no correlation to the validity of previous posts, which has to be said, unfortunately), the only exerts posted on TRP will be those which pertain directly to RP theology (again, similar to “Such Is My Nature”). When I finish building my website (if I ever finish), you’ll be able to read chapters in their entirety there. Also if you’re a web designer, please PM me. I’m not ashamed to say I’m struggling.

The story elements are heavy inspired by the following: Saya no Uta, Donnie Darko, Silent Hill and H.P. Lovecraft.

I believe my current draft is far enough along to share the following exert with you all. There are underlining RP elements contained within this exert, so I’ll leave it up to you to interpret the RP messages being implied. First a quick plot synopsis (without ruining too much):

Plot Synopsis: In the midst of trying to find a balance between his average life of paper-pushing and bill payments and a secret life of drugs, money and sex, hedonist Adam Taggart comes across a man that offers him a chance of a lifetime: a drug that would enable him to read minds, see a person’s future, and ultimately see the world for what it really is. The man failed to mention that all those around Adam would morph into grotesque putrid abominations that only gurgled out obscene, crude remarks. Or that his surrounding would become grim, pulsating flesh-covered nightmares with a bile-like feel to everything. Or that everything he ate would taste rotten and festered, or the smell of putrid sewers would waft from every direction.

The those around him, Adam would become a god; able to predict one’s death, know one’s thoughts and see the true nature of whomever he met. But in Adam’s eyes, his existence had succumb to hell itself.

“God? God’s not happy.” Adam remarked, picking up his now-soaked phone and shoving it back in his pocket. “God might be bringing people happiness or whatever, but he doesn’t feel it himself.” Adam paused, sipped his beer and continued, “All God ever feels is despair from knowing our to-be mistakes, disgust from seeing what the hell we’ve become and regret for not doing shit about it when he had the chance.” He stared down into what was left of his beer. “God’ll never be fuckin’ happy. He’s stuck spending an eternity surrounded by all the monsters he’s made.”

“MODERN DAY MONSTERS”

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(exert)

May 22 2:42 A.M. Cozy Motel Suites

Delilah sighed as she pulled her bright-pink panties over her thighs. Her phone chimed loudly for the twelfth time that night. Adam kept count.

Delilah had failed to make Adam climax for the second time this week. Adam knew it was the drugs and not her. Adam had taken a large dose of molly to nerve to knock on her motel door. On top of that, he’d taken 2 Adderall pills to stay awake, 3 shots of Fireball with Sarah at the bar, smoked a pack of cigs on the way to the motel and they'd just burned through a gram of weed. His mind simply wasn’t in the right place. The only thing that held his attention was some stupid reality pawn shop show on TV. $4000 was a too high to budget towards an antique stereo, but who was he to judge?

"Hey sugah. Yeah, 20 minutes off the exit. Yep. Uh huh, that's the one. Sorry? Oh, it’s $85 for QV and $130 for a half hour."

Delilah ashed what was left of the blunt in her empty soda can and snatched Adam's lighter off the night stand. She flicked the lighter impatiently while pacing between the twin beds.

“3 hours? Okay. What time, sugah? Uh huh. Yes. $300, but only for you big daddy. Okay. Mm hmm. Alright. I’m excited too."

Delilah rolled her eyes and sighed. She’d finally got the lighter to light. She took a long, deep drag from the blunt then fell backwards onto the opposite bed, her purse tipped over and its contents scattered across the stained carpet.

"I'll be waiting, daddy. Mm Hmm. I can’t waited either.” She fake barfed. Okay hun, I’m see you soon."

The phone call ended with 3 loud beeps. Delilah let out a pitiful groan as she vigorously ran her fingers through her tangled blonde hair. She let out an angry, high pitched growl before listlessly dropping her arms back on the mattress with a helpless sigh. The springs squeaked in response.

“Fuckin’ perv.” She muttered to herself. She dropped her phone face-down onto the mattress and stretched her arms across the bedspread.

Adam and Delilah both quietly stared at the ceiling. The AC kicked to life, drowning out the TV and the light patter of the rain outside. Adam closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. His head was still spinning from the molly. He heard Delilah take another drag. Her phone began chiming.

"Dammit!" she yelled as she pulled herself back upright. Adam heard the fizz of the weed being extinguished against nightstand’s lampshade. "Hey sugah.” she began again.

On the nights she worked, Delilah slept with Adam for free two conditions. First, Adam had to keep her company in between "dates". Adam and Delilah lived in two separate worlds, so Adam enjoyed stopping by and listening to her extravagant stories. "He held the gun to my head, Derrick kicked in the door and shot his pervy ass 4 times." Delilah recounted to him earlier that evening.

Second, Adam had to leave whenever Delilah's dates arrived and he couldn’t talk to them if he passed them on the way out. If the dates went short, he'd wait in his car. If they were longer, he'd go next door and grab a beer.

To this day Adam couldn't figure out why Delilah liked having him around so much.

Delilah ended the call with a click and a grunt. She pulled a cig out of Adam's pack on the nightstand and angrily stuck it in her mouth. She flung her phone back onto the opposite bed and collapsed next to Adam. She laid back, spread herself across Adam's ribcage and continued her battle with the lighter. Adam shifted his weight in lieu of his new guest.

"If you hate doing it so much, just quit." Adam commented, eyes glued to the ceiling. White with those little pebbles sticking out of it. Adam wondered what those pebbles were for.

"Hm?" Delilah mumbled as the lighter finally gave in and flared up again. She took a few desperate puffs of the cig then stuck it in Adam's mouth. Adam knew Delilah was having a rough night. She rarely smoke cigs.

Adam pulled himself upright and calmly ran his fingers through Delilah’s hair. She slowly shut her eyes. "You should put those degrees to good use. Do something normal." Adam continued.

Delilah repositioned Adam's hand to scratch the bottom of her skull then stole the cig back. She thought to herself for a bit. The rain had stopped, the AC fell silent. Some infomercial excitedly chimed in the background. She exhaled.

"I need the money" Delilah feebly replied. She crawled her way over Adam's mid-section, re-collapsed on the spot beside him and pulled herself close into his ribs. She buried her cheek in his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso. She took another puff.

"I had a job once" she began. "In a factory. We made bottle caps or some shit. Fuckin’ hated it." Adam stroked the top of her head as she shifted her weight, her eyes fixated on the reflection in the wall mirror. Her solemn face showed she'd thought on this.

"I made $900 in two weeks.” She took a long drag, reached over and ashed it along the edge of the nightstand. “How much do you think I’ve made tonight?"

Adam stole the cigs and took a long, hard drag. He ran his fingers up and down her back as she closed her eyes and pressed in closer. He pondered a bit, though the drugs made it difficult.

"A grand?” he guessed. “Two grand?"

"Six." Delilah sighed. "Guys'll pay a shitload for pervy shit. And then tips. Old guys tip a shit-ton." She lightly walked her fingers across Adam's chest. She paused, almost lost in her head. "$6000 in one night. Went from $900 in two weeks to $6000 a night."

Delilah took another long, hard look into the mirror on the wall. Adam watched her expression turn introspective. She paused again, her expression chilled.

"I guess I'm just hooked. Money's addicting, man." she chuckled weakly to herself. Adam could her the exhaustion in her voice.

Adam dropped the butt into his soda can and slid it across the nightstand.

"But aren't you scared? Is it all worth it?"

Delilah sat up onto her knees, still entranced by her own reflection. She took another long, motionless pause. Like the girl in the mirror intimidated her from responding.

She turned her head and met eyes with Adam. She smiled weakly. "Is anything really worth anything?"

The infomercial had been replaced by some late night comedy show. Adam could hear the jingling keys and harmonic whistling of the night shift janitor. He whistled the same song every time Adam stopped by.

After a few seconds, Delilah closed her eyes, yawned and stretched with a deep groan. "You should get going." She croaked hoarsely as she climbed over Adam and onto the floor. She lazily dug through her purse's contents and pulled an iPad, a red debit card, a dollar and a small white bag. "Date’ll be here soon." She croaked once more.

Yawning, Adam struggled to his feet began gathering his clothes. Delilah plopped back down on the opposite bed, rolled up the dollar bill and emptied the coke bag onto the iPad screen.

Finally dressed, Adam pulled out another cig, stuck it in his mouth and strutted towards the door while fighting with his lighter. "Til next time, hun." Delilah moaned in her feeble attempt at a sensual voice. Adam heard her snort loudly as he opened the motel door with a creak.

As Adam turned back to close the door, his eyes met Delilah’s one final time. She did her best to force a smile. White residue clung just below her small, petite nose. Her pale skin seemed to glowed from the dim TV light. Her implants looked foreign on her small, frail frame.

Adam could see tears beginning to form behind her fake smile. Her eye shadow had begun to run, droplets visible on the iPad’s surface. Adam thought her expression looked frightened, almost terrified. Defeated. Lost. “Come back and see me, alright?” she managed to choke out.

Adam shut the door between them. He heard something shatter inside as he walked away. He began fighting with his lighter. “Damn thing.” He muttered to himself.

May 22 3:47 AM Ragdoll Tavern

Adam hadn’t been this drunk in years. His phone buzzed across the bar top for a second time, vibrating right into a puddle of beer left by the last patron to sit there. He didn’t care, so long as he didn’t have to put up with Angela’s bullshit at 3 in the morning. He knew she’d fucked that son of a bitch personal trainer of hers in the back of her Prius, so he figured they were even now. Besides, he was too drunk to care. Adam through is arms on the bar and used them as a headrest. He closed his eye and thought about how great breakfast would be right now. He thought about eating eggs, bacon and toast with jam at Denny’s. He then thought about Ben’s dick repeatedly plowing into his girlfriend’s pussy in a Denny’s parking lot.

“I’ma kill th’ fuck’r.” Adam mumbled to himself. He should’ve fucked Delilah harder, just in spite of Angela. That whore.

“I don’t think God would be too happy with that sentiment, true or otherwise.” Adam sat up in his stool just as a tattered, shabby, homeless-looking man collapsed into the seat next to him. The man was unnecessarily cheery in a way that made the cynical and rational side of Adam’s drunkenness want to punch the guy in his jaw.

“God? God’s not happy.” Adam remarked, picking up his now-soaked phone and shoving it back in his pocket. “God might be bringing people happiness or whatever, but he doesn’t feel it himself.” Adam paused, sipped his beer and continued, “All God ever feels is despair from knowing our to-be mistakes, disgust from seeing what the hell we’ve become and regret for not doing shit about it when he had the chance.” He stared down into what was left of his beer. “God’ll never be fuckin’ happy. He’s stuck spending an eternity surrounded by all the monsters he’s made.”

The shabby man stared at Adam for a several seconds before turning back towards the TV. “Jesus. You’re fucking depressing, kid.” The shabby man replied.

(end exert)

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