The Agony of Long Awaited Fantasy

Posted by Joe Zangara on April 24, 2001 at 07:04:14:

The Agony of Long Awaited Fantasy

Kyle Perrault drove down the last street that lead to his house, with the thought in mind of his imminent encounter with Peggy Duke, who would surely throw off one of her usual snotty remarks upon his arrival in the driveway, at his house just next door to Peggy. They had both grown up in the same neighborhood together, since Kyle, and Peggy could remember. Kyle was more of a shut-in, offering comfort to his mother who suffered the loss of her husband, who had disappeared mysteriously in Lebanon when a new war had disrupted years of peace in that region. His mother never found another quite like the man she had lost, and began hitting the harder booze as Kyle went through his High School Years. While he was in the army, his mother died, overdosing alcohol, which lead to a depression caused by blaming himself for her death, even though she had greatly encouraged him to join the Army, in order to make progress ahead for himself. Kyle had almost blown his career in the Army, by failing to engage into the academics of his training. He made a choice to become fully dedicated to his studies. No more booze, or nights out with women, around the bar scene, and had cut himself off from his friends. His interest in technical matters earned his scholarship, along with his background from the army, and soon he went on to higher sciences, while living in the house that was inherited to him, after his mother's passing. Most of his work was well paid and had to do with lot's of sucking up to the hierarchy at company luncheons, while the most technical side of it involved significant modifications of the same type of test equipment, maybe once every two years if he was lucky. The rest were minor adjustments to designs, and although there were no heavy trials in such a job of little demands, leading to almost no stress, he often found himself with great energy for his ultimate experiment, down in the basement, and would spend his evening hours eating very little while obsessing over his creation.

Peggy was popular in the years of her upbringing, hung around the football jocks and other popular figures in her High School, and later on at the University. She loved to tease the guys she favored while offering near torment to those she called nerds, geeks, people like Kyle who cut themselves off. She enjoyed inviting many friends over for parties while her folks were away, causing trouble in the neighborhood and some vandalizing on Kyle's side of the property line, drinking until their lips were loose enough to shout disturbing sounds of threatening dialogue, which was hard to differentiate between jokes, and seriousness. Peggy, in most ways had never grown up, by now, many years after her college days, and after failing those years of finals so miserably, still had rich parents to back her up, offering her an eternal roof over her head, along with a welfare plan for herself and the current boyfriend. Her motives for the ongoing barrage of verbal attacks was something that Kyle was above, but a thorn in his side that he wished he could do something about, permanently. She wore her golden brown hair, very short, diamond earrings, always well made up, with very thick lips, which were such contrary features with her inner countenance.

She did not fail Kyle on this evening, as he pulled his briefcase from the car to be greeted by her high school mentality that drove off the other friends who had passed her up in maturity. "So, the nerd is home!" She shouted over to him. "On your way down to make some more geek noises in your cellar?"

Kyle normally considered himself above such rudeness but something mysterious was beginning to happen, as of late. His shoulders would shudder, uncontrollably, the way one would react to nails on a chalk board. The years of this reliable abuse was taking it's toll causing a manifestation of very shaky nerves on Kyle's part, compounded by the routine boredom of the day. "Wh--wh--why don't you come and see for yourself, Peggy?" Normally, Kyle would have called her Piggy, and returned with some sarcastic remark but he was becoming drained of such abilities in recent weeks.

"Yeah, like I would want to come down and see the big dork machine."

Kyle smiled in a peculiar way and replied, "W-w-well, I'll l--l--leave the door open in case you change your mind. Feel free."

"W-w-well, maybe I will if I feel like it," Peggy replied to make fun of Kyle's recent stuttering.

The hours spent in the cellar lab had become a residual lack of sleep, that effected his speech as well as his mental processes. Peggy was surely the kind of ill-mannered shrew who would reap a wholesale exploitation off of such misfortune.

Kyle worked down in the lab for almost an hour, until Peggy came down, slightly humbled by her presence in Kyle's habitat. She asked, "What is this machine here?"

"It reduces the size of things, Peg! It's wonderful."

Peggy threw her head back and laughed, "Haha, an you think something like this actually works, because a loser like you thought it up?"

That irritating shudder went through Kyle's shoulders. "Watch this Peg." Kyle opened a big door that was attached to a huge wooden box, and dropped a rocking chair inside of it, before throwing the huge master switch. Before their eyes, a flash of light appeared in a tiny box across the lab. Kyle opened it up, and placed the rocking chair in Peggy's hand. "Now what do you think?"

Peggy looked at him, sideways, and rolled her eyes, "Nice trick. You put a dollhouse chair in this box already, and did some sort of flashing light circus trick. The big chair is still in that other box. This is some cheap dollhouse chair." Her hand began to close on it.

"No, Peg!" Kyle moved his hands toward her closing hand, "That's a family heirloom. It was my mother's favorite. I can restore it. Don't--"

"HORSESH--T!" Peggy shouted as she closed her fingers and crushed the delicate miniature into small splinters, rubbing them out of her fingers as they fell to the floor like sawdust.

Kyle became teary eyed, "I'll never be able to replace that," as he knelt to the floor, touching the remnants between his thumb and finger, before letting them fall again.

"Ah, poor baby," Peggy said feeling slightly remorseful and needing assurance that the chair was really in the big box. "I'll show you how stupid you are," she said as she walked over and opened up the lid. "It's--gone!" She was dumbfounded momentarily as she looked into the empty box, moments before a hard push tumbled her inside of the box, followed by the closing of the door.

"Let's see how you like it, bitch!" Kyle threw the switch, but noticed that there was no flash in the tiny box. Something was strange about that, he knew, and after all it was the first live person he had ever experimented on. He was sure that something had gone wrong but when he opened the box, there she was peering up so helplessly, and very humbly begging for his forgiveness with a humble, nervous giggle. She smiled graciously like Kyle had never known her to in all the years that they had known one another, but still too filled with rage to stop and appreciate the moment, reaching into the box, picking her up, and closing his angry fingers tightly around her, causing the insides of her, guts and other bodily components, to squish out of the mouth end as well as the ass end, oozing below her skirt in a wave of vile red, bloody slime. He continued to crush, and squish his fingers around until her bones, flesh, and blood were all like a stew in his palm. "Yecch," he said to himself as he walked over to the sink, "wash this mess down the drain, guy."

He smiled with satisfaction as he watched the last of Peggy go down the small holes of the drain, while toweling off his fingers at last. Soon, there was a knock on the door that nearly caused him a heart attack. He ran up the stairs and answered the door. It was Peggy's Mother.

"Hi, Kyle, I know we hardly ever talk, but I'm worried about Peggy," the sweet lady said as she clasped her nervous hands together, "she never made it home for dinner and now it is getting late. If she doesn't get home and eat soon, I'm worried she'll end up wasting away to nothing."

In light of these words that hit him, in composure with his cracking disposition that was a fine blend of fatigue and the bloodshed that taking a human life will have in effect, on even the most exhausted, desperate murderers, he began laughing in a rhythm that one would more commonly hear inside of an insane asylum. He tried to hold back his laughter which only fueled the strength of what he was suppressing, busting out after only a brief pause. "I haven't--" he busted out in laughter again, "haven't seen your daughter Peggy at all." His face turned red and he almost fell off of his feet laughing, while Peggy's mother took off for home.

Ten minutes later, there was another knock at the door. It was Peggy's father, very serious in his quest for his daughter.

"Come on in and look around." Kyle said with ease. "She's not here, but feel free to check everywhere."

"I WILL check everywhere, young man!"

Kyle escorted him throughout the house, checking attic doors, and closets, until they went into the basement.

"What the hell is all this?" The father asked as he scanned his eyes over the closed door of the huge box.

"These are my experiments," Kyle said. Feel free to look everywhere.

The father's hand reached for the latch of the box door, and began to pull. A foul odorous smell leaked out as he said, "Never mind. What the hell you doin' here boy? You need to get out more often. Go to a ball game. See a movie. Too much time alone in here."

"Is that all, sir? Because I am busy and don't have time for your philistine entertainment suggestions."

The father stomped out feeling deeply insulted, and without saying another word, exited the front door, slamming it hard behind him.

The slamming of that door went through Kyle's bones as he began to think of the price he would have to pay for repentance to his deed against Peggy. Later, that feeling manifested into terrifying thoughts created in his imagination as he turned the lights out, and began to think if Peggy might return as a supernatural apparition of some kind. His eyes would drop into a sleep, quickly removed as his subconscious would reopen them, just as someone who is afraid of the dark flicks the light off and on, in the transition of overcoming that fear. Finally, he dozed into a deep sleep and was able to catch about three hours before his eye opened to a dark shadow of Peggy's figure. He freaked out instantly and fumbled for the light switch, as the image appeared to be standing in the doorway to the hall. When he turned the light on, he realized that it was Peggy, four inches tall, standing up to his eye level and causing the appearance of her full size in the doorway. She was back.

"Ha, ha!" Peggy laughed from her tiny size, "you weakling, you should have checked your work more carefully. I jumped out of the way, before getting crushed."

Kyle scratched his head and thought, "No way! I know I crushed her." He picked her up in his hand and held her. "Listen, I've changed my mind about wanting to hurt you. Obviously your folks love you a lot, and are worried right now, especially your mother."

"I know, I heard the whole thing. My Dad was right, you do have a pathetic social life. Jerking off with your toys," she said as her eyes squinted into an evil glare, "and it won't be too hard to sell Daddy on the fact that you raped me, when you restore my size and I run to him. He'll kick your ass."

"What? Raped you??"

"Anyone will take my word over that of a loser like you." She laughed as he tightened his grip on her, "Ouch!"

"Ah ha! So you are just mortal. Maybe I did miss you the first time, but this time I won't fail." Kyle opened his mouth and just before popping her inside, she let out a terrified shriek, as her face contorted into horror.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry," Peggy said just before it became extremely dark, and Kyle's tongue began pushing her body to be set down, centered from the molars in back.

Kyle noted a very sensational burst of brown sugary, sweet flavors as he chewed her into pieces, screams subsiding into sounds of squishing guts and crunching bones. It felt like soft bones from anchovies soaked in oil. All edible. "There! That time I got the bitch. It's a shame that there is only one shot at that," he said as he felt his pleasure area harden up and rubbed himself, "I wish they marketed cans, like they do sardines, labeled "Little Peggy's," haha, I would have my fill of such a delicacy and never tire of it. I could eat such things forever."

Kyle walked to the kitchen to fetch some milk to wash down the sensuous aftertaste of Peggy, and was suddenly shocked as he pulled the milk out of the refrigerator and set it down on the counter, squashing something underneath of it, that oozed blood from all directions underneath the carton. He lifted the carton and recognized Peggy's grimacing face, squashed flat. He took a wash rag and wiped it into the sink, as he turned on the faucet to wash it down the drain. "What the f--" he thought to himself.

As he poured the milk out, something went kerplunk in his glass. It didn't seem major. He knew that milk would do that sometimes. As he drank it down, he felt Peggy's sugary body go down with it, swallowed whole. Although he loved the sensation of her tickling him to her doom in the stomach acid, he was perplexed over the whole ordeal taking place now. By the time he returned to bed, Peggy was laying on his pillow.

"Let's make love!" She said with a sadistic laugh.

"We'll make love all right," Kyle said as he wielded his genitals and laid on top of her. He rubbed himself pleasurably until there was nothing left of Peggy's soft, lovely warm body that had climaxed him, torn to shreds, appearing to be like pencil eraser, stubble on paper. "Now, it's time for some sleep." He shut out the light.

Before he could doze this time, Peggy's tiny voice rang out into the darkness of the room, "But I still want to make love!"

"I'm getting sick of this," Kyle said as he flipped the light on, "tell me what's going on, bitch!"

She crossed her luscious legs as she sat on the pull of the sheets, over his chest, and replied, "My pleasure! You can't kill me. You are destined to repeat your killing of me," she said as she wielded an evil crow's eye, "for THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!" She cackled with an evil laugh.

"Oh," Kyle answered, "so you think you can make that sound like some kind of spiritual bondage, or homage paid for my wrongful act, huh?? Well, I'll take full advantage of this." He picked her up, and carried her into the kitchen, grabbed some whip cream out of the fridge, and sprayed it all over her body before chowing down, chewing and savoring.

"Here I am!" Peggy reappeared on the counter.

Kyle smiled, "I know," and without picking her up, sprayed her as she tried to run, until she was bogged down in whip cream. He indulged again, only tasting her longer before slowly chewing the limbs off, one by one, challenging her to return for such a hell again.

Each time he would chew, she would scream in terror, as her murder would reoccur, and he would do it differently each time. For the time being, he was being creative about what to cover her in. This continued until the break of dawn, that found him patting his stomach, stuffed full of all the Peggy's he ever wanted to eat, and then noticed that Peggy had not returned for a while. He was feeling extremely sick when the knock was heard at his door.

"I'm detective Gerard," said the man at the door, when Kyle answered, "I'd like to ask you a few questions."

Kyle said nothing, as his weary eyes fixed on the detectives, before he quietly lead him to the dining room.

"What the hell is all this," the detective said as he noticed three bags of bread eaten, mayonnaise, mustard, peanut butter, olives, all scattered around, "Have some party last night?"

Kyle could not hold on any longer, and vomited all over the detectives shoes. Then again, twice after, in the bathroom. Kyle could see tiny bones of legs, arms, skulls, and knew the detective could see the same thing, but the detective was out in the front yard washing off his shoes like nothing was real unusual about the stew.

"There's one place I'd like to check, that I understand has not been checked thoroughly, after questioning Peggy's Dad," the detective said upon his return.

Kyle replied, "Sure, go ahead," feeling that the detective was on to the science of shrinking and had already take clues from the tiny body parts that were puked up.

The detective asked, "Would you lead me to the cellar please?"

Kyle walked him down, afraid that he would surely believe that Peggy had been shrunken down by the device, to be devoured, squashed, mutilated, and abused in other fatal ways as he turned the lights on and revealed his machine.

"Haha, been busy huh?" The detective said with a laugh.

Kyle almost felt like he was being mocked, by a detective he assumed to be knowledgeable of the all night ordeal, this strange phenomena connected with the shrinking, and his heart pounded hard.

"Peggy's father said he had never opened up this box, but reported some awful smell from it. All I need to do is see that nobody is in there, and I won't bother you anymore."

Kyle relaxed, as he began to feel that the detective was really off from the clue. It was still as search for a full sized body, which he would never find. He was headed for the free and clear, rejoicing in his mind, about his victory, as the detective opened up the box and said, "GOOD LORD!"

Kyle began to wonder as the detective shouted for two policemen outside, loud enough to be heard from the cellar, who came running down. He pointed into the box, at Peggy's fried body, at full size. Kyle approached the box and was just as surprised to find that Peggy's body was lying inside, burned to a crisp by the processes of the machine.

"Well, that's not possible!" Kyle began to laugh psychotically, in hysterics as he said, "I shrunk her! She shrunk. I know. I've been eating her all night."

He looked into the eyes of the officers who were approaching him, cuffs ready as the detective said, "Mr. Perrault, I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of Peggy Duke," and began reading his rights as Kyle giggled.

"I could tell you exactly how she tastes. How she feels under your fist, four inches high when she is crushed. Squished in the merciless grip of my fingers." They cuffed him and prepared to escort him to the car, "I shrunk her, I tell you. That's not her. She shrunk! It all happened. It was Peggy. Nobody else would jackass me like that."

Kyle did not fight his arrest though. He did feel responsible for Peggy's death, even if in the way created by his own thoughts. He had killed her repeatedly, all night, inside of a psychosis brought on by, perhaps, the overwhelming guilt of a shrinking experiment made unsuccessful by, a mathematical error?? Oversight of one simple flaw in a small element of this gadget?? Or maybe the fact that such an experiment is not, humanly possible.