Bang! Bang! Bang!
“I said use the fucking bathroom down the
hall!” Corey shouted in response to the second round of banging at
the door.
The sheets stopping once again, Corey pushed
them back into action.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Holy shit. I’m going to beat your fucking
ass!” Corey protested through clenched teeth as he tossed the
covers aside, revealing the startled blonde between his legs as he
prepared to ensure that Justin would never be able to knock on a
door again. Before he could get to his feet however, the locked
door exploded inward, the knob of the door lodging in the adjacent
drywall as young Hoover screamed and Justin appeared in the doorway
with the girl's black panties tightly clenched in his hand.
“What the fuck, dude!?” Corey swung his leg
around the frightened girl as she frantically gathered enough
fabric to at least partially conceal herself. He didn’t care that
he was naked or that he was currently sporting a massive boner. He
and his erection were going to pound the living snot out of the
unwelcomed company. Getting to his feet, he took a step forward but
hesitated as Justin signaled “stop” with his empty hand.
“Sit down,” Justin addressed his perplexed
and angry roommate.
“Sit down? You have a lot of fucking nerve
bursting in here? I told you to use the fucking bathroom down
the-”
“—Down the hall?” Justin finished the naked
kid's sentence. “He did that.”
“He? Are we referring to ourselves in the
third person now?” Corey mocked, something about Justin’s calm and
creepily confident demeanor keeping him from advancing any
further.
“Where is he?” Justin ignored the
question.
“Who? I don’t have time to play hide and
seek right now. I’m kind of in the middle of someone,” Corey
motioned to the girl who was trying to reach her pants on the floor
while remaining covered.
“Where is he?” Justin repeated.
“I don’t know. You tell me. Where is he?”
Corey continued his mocking attitude. “Who the fuck are we talking
about?”
“Drake,” Justin answered.
“Drake? Drake who?"
"Drake Miller," Justin clarified.
"I don’t know any Drakes, so why don’t you
take your perverted ass and—“
“—He was here,” Justin interrupted. This was
his room. What year is it?”
“What? Are you fucking on something
man?”
“What year is it?” Justin insisted, the
anger in his voice growing.
“Fuck you. You know what fucking year it
is.”
Staring at his defiant roommate, Justin
paused to take a breath before screaming, “What fucking year is
it?!”
The girl froze in place, her arm still
outstretched for her pants.
“2018,” Corey nervously replied taking a
step back, shocked by the level of rage being exhibited by his
usually even keeled roommate.
“Fuck. Were getting closer,” Justin muttered
to himself, while looking down at the ground.
“What are you talking about?” Corey asked,
the anger in his voice slowly being overtaken by fear as Justin
returned his insane, hateful gaze to the two naked coeds.
“I guess it will have to do though,” Justin
smiled.
“Dude. You need to get the fuck out of
here,” Corey addressed Justin as he knelt to retrieve the girl’s
pants from the floor beside him.
Dropping the wadded up panties, Justin
turned his attention to a lacrosse stick leaning against the closet
door.
Following his roommate’s gaze, Corey tossed
the pants at the girl and quickly began fumbling with his own.
Grabbing the piece of sports equipment,
Justin turned back to his roommate, the two of them locking eyes,
as he issued a menacing grin and closed the door behind him.
####
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Visit:
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brian Drinkwater is an American horror/suspense
writer with a knack for mind bending stories of a darker nature.
His first book, Book of "The Grave", was released in 2013 with his
follow up, FOOK, being release one year later.
Born in Southern California, but raised on
Massachusetts' South Shore, Brian has been writing since he was a
small child, often testing the boundaries of his school assignments
by writing fictitious stories in place of daunting reports. He even
invented an English poet his senior year of high-school in order to
bypass the school's rule of 'no self written yearbook quotes'.
Readers now know this poet as William Grave.
Though never a big reader, as odd as that may sound,
Brian did grow up a fan of Dean Koontz, so it's no surprise that
his writing style mimics that of the renowned author, with multiple
storylines cohesively coming together by story's end. And with a
knack for creating vivid characters with dynamic personalities, as
a reader you'll find yourself rooting for, and sometimes against,
the people who make up his imaginary world. But don't get too
attached, because standard rules don't always apply, and not
everyone makes it out alive.
Brian lives in Southwest Florida with his wife and
son.
Connect with Brian
Author’s website:
http://www.AuthorBrianDrinkwater.com