Short Stories: The Lament of David Davies

19:45

His heart pumped at a million miles per hour when she squeezed his testicles with one hand, pulling his hair with the other. She forced her mouth onto his and David felt her tongue down his throat. He was far too excited to notice how unusually shaped it was. This was it; he was about to do it.

Yvette pushed him onto the sofa and opened his belt. David lay there, letting her. He didn’t move at all, like a hooked fish. By now I’m sure you know that David is not a normal individual so it should not surprise you that at this moment of heightened adrenaline and sexual energy David’s thoughts were elsewhere. It was as if, after all, those years of being teased about his sexual prowess, ­ he had built an elaborate defence mechanism. Memories he had once forgotten were flashing now before his eyes; images of ice cream on the beach with his parents, Christmas Day’s gone by, nights spent with his beloved matchstick tanks, an odd moment where he had accidentally touched his Aunt Aggie’s left breast and regrettably enjoyed the feeling. David had forgotten about these memories because he was ashamed of what they meant to him: they acted as a comfort blanket when he got himself into a situation he wanted out of. And, as he stared at the ceiling missing completely a fantasy that had just come to life before his very eyes, Yvette whipped her hair up and wiped the spit from her mouth. She crawled atop him, lifted her legs and straddled him.

Almost immediately, he was inside her. He was doing it. Doing it, he thought. In truth, he wasn’t doing anything. His arms were completely straight, and he was amazed that Yvette had managed to get his shirt off. He was shaking, and the shaking wouldn’t stop. He continued to watch her, bouncing up and down, her nails digging deep into his belly. David was sure his heart was about to burst out of his chest. There was a magnificent burning sensation in his groin, an enormous amount of pressure that he was desperate to release. Why so soon? David took pride in being able to masturbate for hours at a time, what on Earth was happening to him? Yvette was speeding up; her breasts swaying back and forth. He couldn’t watch, he screamed inside his head: Hold on!

Yvette wouldn’t stop, pushing on his stomach, inducing his vomit. No amount of self­-discipline and coaching from any sexual expert could stop David Davies from ejaculating so soon. But, dear reader, this may well be the only occasion where that isn’t a bad thing.

He began to moan quietly though he didn’t mean to. This was normal, he thought surely. He couldn’t hold any longer. It was going to happen. Let it happen, he thought. Get it over with. Little steps, he pleaded in his head. Yvette moaned too and as she did her skin made new folds. David watched her, mouth agape in ecstasy and trepidation. Her skin was sagging. Her hair fell over her face, but it continued to fall… onto David’s chest. She was suddenly bald. He screamed and felt like his penis was about to take off. Yvette’s pale, saggy skin started to stretch and tear and rising from within it a creature so disgusting that possibly only David’s soiled pants would compare to. It screeched the most inhuman sound imaginable; far, far away from a woman’s groan on the wailing spectrum. Out of Yvette’s skin it rose, growing spiny, oozing arms out of nowhere and at their end were terrible, jet black claws. Yvette’s skin fell on the floor in a heap and the creature loomed over David. Everything Tesco had said was about to come true. David was screaming, crying and coming all at the same time. And that was when the impossible happened.

The creature snaked forward in a flash, and claws affront toward David’s throat, but it did not quite reach. There was an almighty BANG that muted David’s scream and the creature straddling David exploded, spreading guts and slime all over the lounge and all over David’s naked body. Dust and bits of broken plaster fell around him. Silence did not return to the room for a long time, and the ringing in his ears lasted even longer; he screamed his throat into pain. When the dust settled he could see: the ceiling above him now had a gaping hole in it; plaster and mortar hung from its sides and David could see the night sky and its stars through snapped TV aerials and gushing water pipes that leaked gushing water into David’s lounge. The noise coming from his mouth stopped, and David looked at his penis, half-­erect and glowing unnaturally blue. He was covered in creature guts, dark green, almost black, in colour ­and David for just a second wondered why on Earth his penis had a Smurfish tint.

He stood up, naked as the day he was born, sweaty and covered in innards. The smell was too much, and David vomited on the floor. It was so overpowering that he had to use the wall for support, vomiting again on his stubby toes. His ears still rang and his throat burned. He thought about the sushi in the fridge. David Davies, despite the scene that took place just moments ago, was thinking about food. He tumbled over into the foetal position, shaking and whimpering in the paddling pool that was his lounge.

There was a crunch of footsteps above him on the roof and David strained his neck to see.

Through the giant, black hole was a face. It wore an almost toothless grin and cursed manically.

Balls of spit bombed with a tiny splash on David’s floor of differing planetary fluids. Tesco jumped down to the lounge, kicking up dust as he landed.

Still got your head I see! Well done David!

Tesco stood over David, still naked and covered in a mixture of alien blood and his own semen.

Come on now, up you get.

Tesco bends down for David’s arm, grabbing it and helping him up. David stood meekly, back hunched and with what’s left of his hair sticking to his scalp.

They usually use that stuff I gave you for male Bontlodons; they’re about five times smaller than the females and need a little boost to increase the chances of insemination. Wouldn’t have worked had I not borrowed this body from a man asleep on a bench, diluted it a bit with my spit.

If he wasn’t a broken man before, he was certainly a broken man now. Tesco put a hand on David’s shoulder, totally indifferent about the goo on it.

Well, David, it’s been a pleasure. I’d say you’re safe now, it’s my head they’ll be wanting now.

Tesco grips David’s shoulder slightly and smiles proudly. He turned and stood beneath the hole in the ceiling. David managed to force a feeling from his mouth.

Is-­is that it, then?

David gestured to his lounge. There isn’t a blank patch to be seen anywhere; every nook, crevice, corner and even David himself was drenched in slime. It was bad, but the smell made it much worse.

Well you got what you wanted, didn’t you?

Tesco turns again to face David.

How does it feel?

A rage began to fill inside David until he pondered the question for a moment. Technically he did get what he wanted. For what could have only been a couple of minutes at the most he had had sex with the woman he so desired? On the surface, at least. A runner-up prize, he thought. He had finally done it and yet he felt dissatisfied. He felt empty. Conned. Duped. Alien beheading and vaporising aside, the whole act was nothing like he expected. Tesco sighed and butted in on David’s silence.

You’ve become more miserable than before! David, you’ve become a man! Smile for God’s sake!

Tesco’s sarcasm rang true. There was a crack like lightning, and a bright, blue beam of light appeared in the room. Tesco made sure to stand in it and debris surrounding his feet wobbles slightly.

Insignificance is the foundation of all species, David. The trick, as I understand it, is to grow out of it.

David did not move. Rubble floated in front of him, and Tesco started to hover above the ground. He waved goodbye to David and floated up and out of the hole in the roof. David moved closer to watch him go, too afraid to walk into the blue light. There was a hum in the sky, like a broken radiator, and then there was nothing The blue light disappeared and what was once floating debris crashed on the lounge floor. Dust rose again, and David coughed.

What Tesco had said meant nothing to David. Actually he was more annoyed that Tesco had not offered to help clean the flat. He looked around the room again. He was still not conscious of his nudity and in a way, was completely unaware of the gravity of the situation. For a human this is normal, I suppose; they tend to do very little when so much needs to be done. It has to do with an ancient genetic trait, whereby the body will release chemicals that inhibits panic. This would benefit David greatly if only body snatching aliens and weaponised penises happened more often, he’d be able to cope with his boss. He’d be able to cope with his colleagues. He’d even be able to cope with himself. But, alas, it does not.

He sat on his ruined sofa, still naked, still silent. But soon the weeping will begin, make no mistake, and it will be uncontrollable.