A constant thump of rhythm coupled with flashing lights; a throng of people, bellowing cigarette smoke; people on the dance floor, people at the bar; notes offered, little change given; pills popped, weeds inhaled; fights started over spilt alcohol, toes stood on, backs nudged, bouncers intervene. Another Saturday night at Basils Nite Spot.
Tommy would not have it any other way.
11.50 PM. He made his way through the crowds. He knew most of the faces: men he stayed clear of, men he nodded to; women he had failed with, but not for want of trying, woman he had made it with.
He arrived half an hour ago with Kev and Gary but his friends were on the dance floor, sad bastards. Tommy only hit the dance floor when it was absolutely necessary, and that was when he had a chance of scoring with some chick. He hated the music, hated the place in general. He was only here for the beer, and the babes. He had not had much luck as regards to the latter yet, but the night was young.
The bar cleared as he approached and a patronising looking barman asked him what he wanted. Tommy ordered a bottle of Bud. The draught tasted like piss and experience had taught him of stay clear of the stuff. He paid the man and wiped the top of the bottle before taking a swig, contemplating the barman a moment: another new face. He turned his attentions to the patrons: how pathetic we are, to get together in such places, seeking change from our ordinary lives, a couple of hours away from normality, looking for fun, looking for love and understanding from strangers. He was amazed as to why he still bothered coming to such places. Habit? For the crack?
Like your shirt.
The voice was female. Tommys first thought was it had been his imagination that had brought him from his thoughts. He turned and saw a vision of beauty in black lycra.
Tall, about an inch shorter than his six-foot frame, the black top clung to her like skin. The mini skirt was short; two curvy groin-enticing legs shone with the glow of the disco lights. Her black hair was plaited and long. She looked twenty-five, possibly thirty. Too old for this place, anyway. At twenty-four, Tommy considered himself a veteran of Basils.
He thought, Out of your league, Tommy.
Cat got your tongue? she asked, then laughed nervously. He detected an accent. French, perhaps? Or do you not want to talk to me?
Something caught in his throat and Tommy managed a smile. Yeah, sure I do. He hoped he was not slurring his words, or Slurring his worms, as Kev put it. It was okay to be smashed when talking to the majority of women in this place but not this lady, she had class. He said, Youre gorgeous, he said and cringed. Oh, wonderful pick up line, Tommy.
I bet you say that to all the girls.
Only the gorgeous ones. Unfortunately, it seemed his repartee was getting worse.
So, what do you say to the not-so-gorgeous ones?
I don't talk to them if I can help it. He looked for a drink and seeing none asked her if she wanted him to buy her one.
Not yet, she replied, then, Look, don't you hate small talk? Drink up, then, and get your coat, you have pulled.
That accent again. What was it..? Then he blinked, her words sinking in. Ive..? Right. Oh, I have not coat Ill just go tell my mates.
No time... I am in the mood to make baby, arent you? It cant wait; you coming?
Sure. Sure he was.
They took a taxi through the city centre but Tommy did not see the concrete views, he was too distracted by the womans tongue in his mouth, licking, probing and teasing. They pulled up outside a large block of flats. The woman paid the driver and they headed for the doors. Into the building, up the elevator.
I bet you are one of those men who likes to love them and leave them, no? the woman asked. Could she be Polish? Italian? Pick up some, how you say, Fitbit and then take them home. How-you-say, Shoot your load then you are gone, no? Like the vampire in the night. Bet you are a horny little boy, no? Horny horny boy?
Tommy could not help grinning. He said, I look upon it as a service, a duty to perform: they want it as much as I do, more in some cases.
You a good Christian, then. But you never use a condom, a rubber johnny, no?
Thats where you are wrong, I always do. Got some ribbed ones on me tonight.
With me, no condom. She shook her head. We make a baby.
Sure, he said, and thought, Crazy bitch. But that was when his first doubt began to set in.
The elevator came to a halt, its doors opening. They stepped out onto a narrow corridor. Tommy followed her through the door of her flat.
You live here? he asked her as she flicked on the lights. The place was bare and had a slight unpleasant smell. Torn wallpaper, single armchair with a dubious stain, nothing much else. He stepped into the flat, noticing with disgust the soles of his shoes sticking slightly to the heavy domestic.
Sometimes, yes, she answered. She pushed the door shut and turned to face him. We make good baby tonight, I feel it in my bones.
He smiled, even though the baby thing was wearing a bit thin. Whats your name?
Why?
Well, because I only make babies with women I know the first names of; its just a crazy little rule I like to stick by.
She studied him closely and looked as though she was going to say something. Instead she slowly pealed off her black lycra top. She was not wearing a bra.
Her breasts were the most magnificent breasts he had seen in his life; outside the covers of Knave and Mayfair, anyway.
Nicole, she said. Yours? He told her his name. She tossed her top over her shoulders and it landed by the window. She began to pull off her skirt and the see-through black panties underneath. Take off your nice clothing, Tommy. Be careful with your nice shirt. It is time for you to give me a, how you say, Good seeing to.
He grinned again and began to loosen his belt. When he was naked she reached for him, grabbing hold of him and working him up and down. She pulled him to the floor. The sticky carpet forgotten, he slipped into her.
Halfway through, Nicole yelled, Oh yes, Tommy! I can feel it, horny little boy Tommy. We make good baby tonight!
He laughed as he drove into her. Youre crazy.
Yes I am, she whooped. Crazy, crazy, bitch.
When Tommy came it was like nothing he had ever felt before: again and again he shuddered on top of her, releasing his seed until there was nothing left. The pleasure was immense and overwhelming; each of his nerves seemed to tingle with a union of ecstasy and pain. When it was over he carefully pulled away and lay on his back. He looked up at the ceiling, chest heaving up and down.
We have made baby, she purred next to him.
Tommy turned to face her, having grown well and truly bored with the joke. He was growing tired of her and her damned accent too, but did not say anything: what he had just experienced was still at the forefront of his mind. Instead he turned back to the ceiling. He felt strangely numb and content. He followed the shapes of the wallpaper on the ceiling: reds and oranges mingled with a yellow, which might have once been white. As he stared he felt something lodge in the back of his throat, his body became very numb. He turned back to Nicole. She lay on her back, was still naked. She was holding onto her stomach; a bulbous, contracting stomach that seemed to fatten and bloat the more he stared at it.
What the fuck? he asked. Nicole put her arms to her sides and sighed. The bloated stomach continued to contract and to contort. Whats happening he began, but was too horrified to continue.
It is my baby, she told him. It is our baby, ready to come now.
Sweet Jesus. Tommy scrambled away from her, but his eyes were unable to leave that bloated stomach. How did you get like that? What is this, some kind of joke? He got to his feet and swayed a moment before his legs gave way and he fell onto his backside. He tried to get up again, but his legs seemed useless. There was no pain exactly, just a strange weak feeling. He dragged his body towards the door then, exhausted, he turned to face Nicole. What have you done to me?
As he spoke, a fountain of blood erupted from out of Nicoles stomach. It was thick and dark, not like blood at all. It splashed on the carpet, on the walls; showered both Tommy and Nicole. He wiped his face and stared down at Nicole. He had wondered if this was some strange and sick joke, but now he could think nothing at all; he could only stare. The fountain became a seepage, then just a trickle. There was a three-inch gash in Nicoles stomach. It began to widen, and widen, until it was the size of a football. A large circular shape began to appear, it was a fusion of black, red and pink.
Tommy shook his head madly. This was not happening; this could not be happening. It was some trick, had to be. Kev and Gary had devised it, set him up... He blinked several times, but the scene before him remained. Somethingforcing its way out of Nicoles stomach. A head. Jesus Christ, a head. It was the size of an adult's and was covered in blood and mucus. There was a mop of black hair, two closed eyes. At the side of the head appeared two fingers. Then a hand. An arm.
Two lips began to part.
Tommy tried to get up again, but could not.
A shoulder. Another hand, then another arm. All matted with blood. He turned to Nicoles face. She looked spent, her head lopsided, face haggard and much older looking than before. With a jolt, Tommy realised she was dead.
Well, not surprising, really; anyone would be dead if a thing like that decided to prise itself out of his or her body. A giggle lodged itself in Tommys throat, but it turned into a painful moan when he heard the tearing noise. The sound of Nicoles skin ripping as the thing came out of her proper.
He stared up at the thing.
The eyes were open now, looking around, seeing the world for the first time as it continued to pull itself out of Nicoles body. Neck, two perfectly rounded breasts, a stomach. Top of the thighs, then the knees. There was no way such a thing as this could exist, no way on Gods earth, but here it was. He thought of hallucinogenic drugs. Had someone spiked his drink? Again he thought of Kev and Gary.
Tommy stared, could do nothing else, as the creature pulled itself out of Nicole. The feet left the flesh and blood with a loud slurp. And the creature that had come from Nicoles womb stood before him. A woman, she had long black hair; her skin was darkened by smeared blood.
Nicole lay at the womans feet looking like nothing human, nothing human at all; a torn bundle of seeping red rags. The creature/woman stepped away from what was left of Nicole, reached down and retrieved Nicoles black top from the floor. Using it as a towel, she rubbed herself clean. Tommy looked on, a scream close to forcing its way out of his throat. She tossed the top away and walked over to him.
Her calm features melted into a reproachful smile. Oh, don't look so frightened, she said. It is I, Nicole. Only more. It is I and it is you: it is us one after our union. I am the baby we made, I am Nicole. I am your daughter.
The scream finally surged from Tommys lips. He fell backwards, his head spinning. He had to be imagining this, had to be. If so, what was that bundle on the floor. Was it a delusion, had he gone crazy? Was he in some institute, dreaming this all thing? Surely this could not be real. He closed his eyes tight and opened them. The woman was looking down at him closely.
What the hell are you?
You are confused, she sighed. She walked over to the mini skirt, picked it up and climbed into it. The creature looked like Nicole, but Nicole was lying dead on the floor. I will tell you all, she said. I belong to another race of people. Over the centuries we have been called many things: vampires, incubuses, succubuses, witches, even aliens. But we have lived amongst your kind for millennia. She buttoned the mini skirt.
What are you going to do to me?
She frowned. Oh, nothing now. I have from you all I need. Except your shirt. May I? Thank you. She reached down for his shirt and put it on. Buttoning it up, she said, We are eternal, my people. Or we can be anyway. She pulled a face. In a way. Sometimes it is hard to explain, Tommy. We copulated and created me, that is how we survive, how we can be eternal. Your seed enters my womb, for I have a womb just like your human women. I take the seedand a little something else. The baby grows within minutes, as you have just seen. She looked away in reflection. It is fitting we are sometimes called vampires and succubuses, for we are quite similar to these creatures. But whereas vampires take the blood, we take the seed. Like succubuses we get what we want through sex.
Tommys legs were very cold, and the cold seemed to be creeping up his body. What have you done to me? he asked.
Taken the seed, she replied. She stopped buttoning the shirt and folded her arms, then, We have no name, our kind, but I like the name Baby Maker. That, or Black Widow. Like the spider, we kill the mate.
You are going to kill me?
No, my dear. She finished buttoning the shirt and left it loose around her waist. I will not kill you, I already have. As I have said, I took something else from you as well as the seed: your life force. Don't worry, it will not be painful. The feeling of cold, the numbness will spread throughout your body until it reaches the heart, then that is it. Don't be angry with me. We had good sex, no? The best ever. If by some strange occurrence you managed to survive this you will never have better sex, that is another thing about our kind. Oh, dear Tommy. Think of yourself as the lamb or the chicken. You eat these creatures to survive, no? You are the lamb to me. Your kind has always been fodder for our kind.
She walked over to he door; by this time Tommy was finding it hard to keep his head raised. The cold and the numbness spread up his arms. Nicole reached the door, turned and blew him a kiss. She stepped into her shoes. Along with her skirt and the shirt, she looked liked someone who had just stepped out of the shower.
I don't want to die, Tommy said suddenly. You bitch, youve killed me.
Hush now, she said. Let us not end this in a falling out. Let us be lovers eternal. I will hold what I have of you dearly to my hearts for the rest of my life. You, too, will be immortal in a way. You will always be dear to me, like all my lovers, all my fathers before you. I remember all their names, as I will remember yours.
Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come now. With what strength he had left he tried to will his body upright. He tried to fight the coldness and the numbness, but it was a battle he could not win. He opened his mouth again to speak, but his jaws locked, a frozen scream.
I will stay with you, said Nicole, I will not let you die alone.
Tommy hardly heard her words. His vision was beginning to blur and no matter how hard he tried to focus it remained fogged. The coldness was boring into him. He suddenly realised there was not one single part of his body he could feel. Was this how people die of hypothermia, the horror of a lonely death?
You sleep now, said Nicole, watching his eyes close. Sleep, sweet father.
And he did...