Redgrave: An Erotic Horror Page 4

  “Booty…booty…call…call…” echoed through the hall.

  “All my single ladies…” I sang and listened to my voice repeat the phrase over and over again.

  It was kind of like being in the shower. In a dark, cold, frightening fucking shower.

  ***

  I finished my rounds and eagerly made my way up the stairs. As much as I dreaded the awkwardness that was sure to come, I couldn’t wait to be near Chapman, to hear another voice instead of my own bouncing off the walls. The TV from upstairs blared through the dark stairwell. Windows provided a little bit of light, and I was glad to turn off my flashlight for a moment. Staring at the world through a dim beam got old real quick.

  Plus, our flashlight batteries never seemed to last long. The U.S. military, for being the strongest in the world, had the shittiest expensive equipment known to man. All except for the guns. Those were pretty reliable and quite badass.

  As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard the Halloween theme song playing and screams coming from the other side of the door. Here I was trying to remember how the theme song to Titanic went, to calm my nerves, and this guy was purposely watching a scary movie, about a masked serial killer, with one of the scariest theme songs invented. We definitely should have traded posts.

  Chapman was leaned back on the hind legs of his chair, trying to balance himself, when I burst through the door. His camouflaged BDU (battle dress uniform) blouse was unbuttoned and his muscular chest threatened to rip through his military-issued brown undershirt.

  “Shh…seven…eight seconds, baby! Hell yeah! Beat that motherfuckers!”

  He slammed his chair down on the floor. His setup was worse than mine. All he had was two chairs, a desk, and a nightstand with a TV on it. Right smack dab in the middle of the hallway, next to the stairwell door.

  “Eight seconds, Sikesy. I bet I could beat your record. ‘Cause we know you can ride longer than that.”

  He was fucking with me, reminding me of the time I had ridden him in the front seat of the Bronco. Texans and their rodeos. He smiled at me and the right side of his mouth curled up a bit, Elvis style, and I found myself once again lost in his boyish good looks. He ran a hand through his short reddish blond hair.

  “It’s hot as balls up here!”

  I said boyish good looks. I said nothing about the charm that usually goes with it.

  “Wow,” I said. “So this is where the party’s at.”

  “Ha, you’re fuckin-A right it is! Everywhere Chapman goes is a party. You ever seen this shit? This is raw!”

  He pointed at the TV and I saw that he was watching the newer, Rob Zombie, version of the franchise.

  “Yeah, that one’s alright,” I said, as I sat down on top of his desk. “But the original was better. When you didn’t really understand the killer’s motivation. Was scarier.”

  “Scarier,” he repeated at a low volume.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see that he was staring at my ass. Our uniform pants weren’t the best for showing off your figure but Chapman had seen me with my pants off before, so I’m sure his imagination was able to fill in the gaps.

  Chapman realized I was watching him and raised his eyes to meet mine. He smiled again and I thought I might melt. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but the guy just did something to me. Embarrassed, I lowered my gaze and focused on his chest. The guy was ripped, washboard stomach and all. I wanted to pull his shirt off but thought he might stop me.

  Don’t be easy. Don’t be easy. Hmm, I wonder how many military chicks get laid while on post. I can’t be the only one.

  I turned away from Chapman but kept my seat on the desk.

  “It is hot in here,” I said, as I pulled off my camouflaged blouse, leaving only my thin, brown, T-shirt.

  I hung it over an empty chair and turned to watch the movie. I looked down at my tits and liked how the shirt stretched around them. My body wasn’t the best but I was blessed with big tits.

  “You’re right. The old one was better. But this one has a lot more titties in it. I give this film two thumbs up on the tittie rating.”

  “The tittie rating,” I repeated.

  I looked left and saw that he was craning his neck to see mine, pretending he was trying to look around me to see the movie.

  “What are you looking at?” I teased. “Watch your movie.”

  He held two thumbs up and nodded at my chest. I laughed.

  I’m so going to fuck him before the night is over. Fuck all this playing hard to get shit.

  I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Chapman lately. He texted me sometimes just to say hi but it seemed we only really hooked up when posted together.

  I’m a military post booty call. But so is he.

  In the movie, the mom worked the stripper pole. Chapman bit his lip as he watched. He bit his lip the same way the first time we fucked.

  We’d been partners, tasked with securing the area around the intelligence squadron. Part of our duty was to visit the entry controller, a guy stuck in a small booth at the entrance to the area. The poor guy couldn’t even use the bathroom unless someone showed up to cover for him. So we did. While he did his business, we hung out in the booth, watching the cameras that looked out over the area.

  We’d been flirting most of the night, talking about previous sexual encounters we’d had. Discussing our likes and dislikes, how we both enjoyed giving oral more than receiving it, and mentioning how it had been way too long since we’d each had sex. So by this time I suppose we were both quite horny.

  As I stared into the row of cameras hanging from the wall, I felt his hand on my waist. He leaned closer to the cameras, as if the hand was there just to help him keep balance, and he pointed at the screen.

  “You see that spot right there?” he asked.

  “What am I looking at?”

  His hand moved down to my thigh. It wasn’t a suave move or anything, just a simple hand on my thigh. But I instantly got wet. I’d been thinking about fucking him all night, about just reaching over while he was driving and pulling his cock out of his pants. But I wimped out.

  “On this road right here. If we take it just a little bit farther, we’ll be out of camera view, and nobody patrols this area but us.”

  I liked where this was going. And that’s where it went. No talking involved. We both understood very well what was going to happen. As soon as the guard finished taking a piss, we hopped in the truck, and headed out of camera view.

  I didn’t have to make the first move. Chapman threw the truck into park, leaned over, and grabbed my pussy as he kissed me passionately. I knew we were going to hook up, but he took me by surprise. He was all over me.

  Before I knew it, we were outside the truck. It was nearly impossible to get down and dirty with a bullet proof vest on and a 9mm at your hip. Chapman sat me up on the hood of the truck, took off my gun belt, slid my pants down, and ate my pussy right there in the Alaskan night, right under the Northern Lights. I never took off my top, nor my boots, and not even the vest. He tongued my pussy until I was slapping the hood. It was fucking wild.

  Then he pulled me up, bent me over the hood, and fucked me from behind. I couldn’t open my legs very wide because my pants were down at my ankles, stuck there by my boots, but it didn’t stop him from driving into me. Between his mouth and his cock I was in ecstasy and he had me coming faster than I’d ever come before. Thank God for the bullet proof vest because when he started to come, he bucked so hard I smashed into the fender and would’ve hurt my ribs.

  Fuck, the thought of it got me horny.

  What would he say if I reached back under the desk and just started stroking him? Would he pull away? Would he just laugh me off and leave me embarrassed and rushing downstairs? Or would he stand up, drop his pants, and put it in my mouth.

  I thought of the guys getting caught playing cards and imagined how embarrassing it would be if the flight chief showed up and caught me blowing Chapman.

  I tried to fo
cus on the movie, to think of anything but sex with Chapman, but my pussy was swollen and already dripping in my pants. Each breath brought a new wave of weakness in my chest. We’d never discussed having a serious relationship but I wondered if he’d consider it, if he’d enjoy being with me all night, every night instead of just being random fuck partners.

  I needed to get my mind off him, and the easiest escape was the darkness. I noticed the second floor was even darker than the first. None of the lights were on. Chapman was sitting at a desk, watching a scary movie, while facing a pitch black corridor. And I thought I had it bad downstairs. At least I had a room of my own.

  “What’s with the lights?” I asked.

  “The lights?” He said as he swigged from a Coke bottle.

  “The lack of I mean.”

  “Oh them lights. They don’t work. The outlets do,” he replied as he pointed at the TV and desk lamp. “But them overhead lights is faulty or somethin’.”

  I pointed at the floor and whispered. “Hey have you ever seen him?”

  I wasn’t quite sure why I’d whispered. It’s not like there was anyone around I was trying not to wake, or a secret I was reluctant to share. It just seemed like any talk of “him” should be in a hushed tone. I suddenly imagined Redgrave lying in bed, hearing himself mentioned, and grinning, blood soaking the bandage around his mouth.

  Fuck, come on. Think of something nice, sweet.

  “Him? Him who?” Chapman asked. “Michael Myers?”

  “Yes, Michael Myers,” I said. “Of course not Michael Myers.”

  Jackass.

  “Milo. Milo Redgrave.”

  I mentioned his name a little too loud for my own comfort. I didn’t mean to speak at a higher tone, but Chapman’s stupidity was frustrating. The name seemed to rattle through the corridor, disturbing something. What, I didn’t know, but I felt it. Like saying the name wasn’t wise.

  What if when I said his name, all the rooms in the clinic suddenly unlocked on their own, with a loud CLICK, CLICK, CLICK?

  I was doing it again, playing that childhood game.

  What if you stop acting like a coward?

  Chapman didn’t seem fazed by the mention of his name. He just swigged from the soda again and shook his head, his gaze remaining on the movie in front of him.

  “Me neither,” I said. “I peek in on him but he’s asleep.”

  Chapman turned his attention to me.

  “Heard he looks like a mutilated leper though,” he said with a laugh.

  His laugh rang out and made its way down the corridor and into the hollow stairwell. I wanted to slap him and tell him to shut up. He must’ve read it on my face.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You look like you done seen a ghost. Wait, you ain’t scared are ya?”

  “Shut up.”

  He grabbed my waist and dug his fingernails in a little. I thought he was going to tickle me and I jumped. He just kept his fingers there and held them still. I liked it. I liked him. I sat with my back to him, but I turned my face to the left and looked down at him. I don’t know what he saw, but the message I wanted to convey was, “Take me. Love me. Don’t hurt me…again.”

  Had he hurt me? Had I been stifling that feeling of neglect?

  I suddenly felt a fear that I might truly fall in love with him and might suffer for it later. I really liked him.

  Is he the reason I’ve been slumming around my dorm room lately? The reason for my sorrows?

  It startled me a little when he suddenly stood up and kicked his chair back a little. He pressed his chest against my back and pulled my face up to his mouth, where he took my bottom lip in his. His strength was a turn-on, his chin unshaven, his mouth delicious.

  I turned, sitting on the desk, but facing him, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as I leaned into his mouth, opening mine wide and loving the wetness of his tongue. I moaned a little when he yanked me closer to him, his cock pressing against me right where I needed it to be.

  Why do we have to be wearing pants?

  “Why did you request this post?” he asked.

  “What makes you think it wasn’t assigned to me?”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Can I ask you something?” I said.

  Screams sounded off on the TV behind me and I hated having to try and get romantic to that horrible soundtrack.

  “We’ve hooked up…twice…but only at work. Why is that?”

  “It’s fun…I guess.”

  “It’s fun,” I agreed. “And that’s all?”

  He looked away from me, over my shoulder, at the movie I supposed.

  “I don’t know.”

  Ouch. That hurt more than I thought it would.

  “Nice,” I said as I spun around on the desk and hopped off. “I need to get back to my post.”

  “Come on,” he said. “Hang out awhile.”

  “Someone might come to check on us. I should go downstairs.”

  “Nobody’s gonna check on us.”

  I grabbed my flashlight, opened the stairwell door, and walked out.

  “Hey, you left your shirt,” Chapman called after me.

  He was talking about my BDU blouse. I decided to leave it behind. I could go back later for it. I needed time to cool off.

  The fucker.

  “You can’t be scared of that little prick,” Chapman called out down the stairs. “He knows not to make a fuckin’ peep when I’m down there. I’ll fuck him up. We can switch if you want!”

  I stopped and looked up at him.

  “Don’t be mad at me,” he said. “You’re really gonna leave me for that douchebag downstairs?”

  He did the Elvis lip thing again and I just shook my head.

  Prince fucking charming. God, he’s so hard to resist.

  “I bet he looks like a white ninja with that gauze all over his face. Like Storm Shadow. You remember him from G.I. Joe?”

  He knew I remembered G.I. Joe. We’d had that discussion the first time we were on post together. I’d told him how I’d had a thing for Duke and he admitted to wanting to fuck Scarlett. Yes, we were a match made in cheesy-80s-cartoon-porn heaven.

  “So don’t be afraid of that fuckin’ looney tune down there. I’ma start callin’ him Milo the Ninja Leper.”

  “Leper…leper…leper…” the word seemed to snake up and down the stairwell, reverberating off the walls and steps.

  I froze and cringed at the sound. “Leper…lepe…lep…le…” and finally it stopped.

  CLICK…CLICK…CLICK.

  Again, I imagined all locked doors suddenly popping open.

  Chapman laughed.

  “Scaredy cat,” he said. “That’s your G.I. Joe codename. Lady Scaredy Cat.”

  “And yours can be Heavy Douchebag.”

  He laughed a little too loud, letting me know my comeback was as lame as I was afraid it was.

  “I’ll come back later,” I promised.

  Back in the office, I plopped down on the sofa and leaned my head back. I’d hated that first round of checks. How was I going to do that every hour? Forging some of the checks was a must. There’s no way every person who’d pulled this post had really walked the entire building every hour.

  There’s no way Sgt. Bowens’ big behind checked all the electrical outlets every hour. Come on.

  I was pretty sure my squadron buddies had only done some of the checks. They’d probably check once at the start of their shift and once right before relief showed up. What were the chances some group of satanic thugs was going to storm the facility and break in to rescue their face-peeling leader?

  Was he a leader? Was there even a gang out there? Suddenly the possibility of a cult showing up didn’t seem so farfetched. No more implausible than a lieutenant from the intelligence squadron carving up his own face in the basement of a rave. That seemed ridiculous.

  I glanced out the office door to see the dark, rectangular window on the hallway wall. I�
��d checked the confinement room door on my way back to the office, and it was sealed shut, but I hadn’t peered in at Redgrave. Truth was, I didn’t want to see him. I knew he was in there. And chances were, he was still sleeping with the blanket up over his head and his feet dangling out, but I still didn’t want to look through the window.

  What if I do and Redgrave is just standing in the center of the room staring back at me?

  I looked over at the check sheet on the desk, then down at my backpack, then at the TV. I was getting anxious and shifty. Why? Everything was fine. In reality, this shift was no different from all the others I’d pulled. This was no different from standing guard at one of the base gates or checking the perimeter fences. This was even easier.