Luther had been gone for two days. Willie didn't know where he had been, and really didn't want to know. Luther came and went as he pleased. Solid walls didn't seem to matter in the least to him. Here one minute, gone the next. It was like living on the edge of a nightmare all of the time for Willie. He never knew where he might, or might not pop up next, or even what he might look like from one time to the next.
Despite dreading when he would next return, it was a lot easier for Willie when he was gone. He hated to be in the same room with him, let alone know he was here and that he could summon him at any moment. All things considered, being in the same room with him was the worst though.
He had gotten used to the stench that emanated from him, but Luther himself was an entirely different matter, and when he was here he expected Willie to be around him almost all the time. He was back now, and as Willie stood in the hallway before the door, he secretly hoped he would leave again... Soon.
He knocked tentatively on the door once more, and stepped back waiting quietly for the door to open. His mouth twitched as he waited. The nervous tick had developed just recently, and although Willie tried to control it, or stop it, it was not possible. Even from here, as he waited, he could smell the stench that he knew would be much stronger once the door was opened, a smell of death, almost overpowering in its intensity.
The handle turned and the door swung silently inward, as Luther turned from the computer terminal where he sat.
"Well? Don't just stand there you stupid coon mother-fucker; get your slimy ass in here."
Willie stepped quickly into the room, and turned to close the door behind him. Before he could it slammed shut, rattling the steel frame that it sat in, and the double dead bolts twisted into the locked position.
Trapped, he thought.
He turned his attention back to Luther. He had learned early on that looking elsewhere when Luther spoke, was a bad mistake to make. He demanded your full attention, and so, reluctantly, he looked directly at Luther when he turned from the door. It was not a pretty site.
His clothing hung in tatters, and his face was peeled and oozing green puss in several places. His black liquid eyes locked on Willie's own. The underlying stench, which Willie thought smelled like rotted vegetables, was heavy in the room, but another smell of burned flesh was mixed in with it, and also hung in the air. Nearly gagging in its intensity, he thought. What had happened to him, he wondered, he looked burned, or something like burned anyway.
"Yes, Willie my sweet," Luther said, as if reading Willie's mind, "the cock-suckers tried to fry me."
He smiled widely and then continued. "Tried to fucking roast me, Willie old boy. Me! Can you believe that shit, Willie? Huh? Can you ever fucking believe it?" His eyes bulged as he spoke.
When he finished speaking, his smile continued to grow wider and wider, and the glow from the computer screen glinted off the sharp rows of teeth that sat crookedly in his mouth. The fresh pink skin around his mouth split in several places as the smile widened, and more of the greenish puss oozed out of the new cracks and trickled down to his chin. Luther absently wiped it away with the back of one hand, and after briefly examining the sticky greenish film on his fingers, began to lick them clean with his long pointed tongue.
Willie struggled to maintain his composure as he watched; not daring to allow his eyes to wander away from the scene, as they so desperately seemed to want to. He swallowed hard trying to force back the vomit he felt in his throat. When Luther finished licking his fingers he spoke.
"So... What to do? Oh me oh my, what to do!" He feigned fear as he spoke, and dug his fingers into both cheeks, opening furrows in them as he dragged them down his face.
"I'm terrified," he stated calmly, "Fuckin' terrified!"
He allowed his voice to rise and quaver at the end, as if this were so,, and he was really in great fear. Willie did not dare to speak.
Even though Luther had asked him, or seemed to ask him questions while he spoke, Willie knew better. That was another lesson he had learned the hard way. You never spoke; I mean never, he reminded himself, until Luther commanded you to.
"Well you stupid fucking ass-hole," Luther asked, "got any ideas? Are you just gonna let them do this to me? Huh, Willie? Huh?"
His black eyes bored into Willie, but he still didn't speak. This was not a real question, and no real response was expected. It wasn't nasty enough, and it hadn't included any of the derogatory terms Luther called him by, that would let him know that he really was expected to respond.
"What's the matter, Willie? You seem awful uptight to me. That little piece of snatch you got ain't been putting out has she," he paused momentarily as if considering before he spoke again.
"You know what you need, Willie? You need a blow job. That'll loosen you up a little I bet. Yep, just an old fashioned straight forward blow job. Clean those pipes right out for you. But hey! Doesn't she do that for you?"
"Guess not, huh! If she did you wouldn't be so fuckin uptight now would you."
