Dark Days in Sharm El Sheik II

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Dark Days in Sharm El Sheik II

Post by Christopher Silva on Sun Nov 23, 2008 9:42 am

Mustafa was getting ready for bed. He’d had a long day in the hotel’s kitchen and early shift had taken its toll. His hut was cool and the soft whir of the air conditioner made him even more tired. Slipping off his kitchen whites revealing his lean dark frame, he walked over and grabbed the remote control for the air conditioner. Mustafa smiled as he turned it down two levels, pleased that his extra curricular activities afforded him such luxuries.

Closing the thick curtains to block the brutal Egyptian sun, he padded to his bed and lay down, letting his mind wander over his short year at the resort. He’d made many friends and his clientele varied from management to the maids. Most exciting, were the women. Never had he imagined that he would have such success when he signed up for the season. He enjoyed the female help. But most exciting of all were the guests. Blond and tall, they were something new and exotic for a boy from Central Anatolia.

Tucked in and dozing he was surprised to hear the soft tap on his door. He’d made his rounds earlier and was still sore from last nights jaunt with a wonderful German girl and daughter of a wealthy guest. Who the hell could it be?

Jumping out of his bed, he quickly pulled on a pair of shorts and rushed to the door. “You better have a.”- He stopped in mid sentence, the door half open. It was Merit. “What are you doing?” He asked surprised.

He liked Merit. She was one of the only users he could really talk to, and she gave the best massage in Sharm. She looked like she’d just come down and had a ruddy color to her skin.

To his surprise, Merit stepped right past him into his hut. “Merit, what the hell?” He closed the door turning around. She looked odd now in the dim light, older and somehow wicked. “Oh come now dear, you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” Mustafa felt a chill go down his spine. Merit sounded different, old and shrill.

He stepped back but she was fast, horribly fast. It came up with shocking speed. A flash, the soft light coming through the curtains reflected off its shiny metal surface. Mustafa was quick too. He caught her wrist just above the white knuckled fist and gripped hard. “What the fuck do you” -He was cut off.

“Oh no, sweetie, that just won't do. No, won’t do at all.” Said the thing with an evil cackle and raised the blade slowly towards his groin.

Mustafa growled with the effort, with all his might he pushed downward, stunned by her strength. Slowly, ever so slowly the knife rose. Almost breathless with the effort, he felt beads of sweat rise on his forehead and fear settle deep in his bowels.

Merit’s face turned into an awful toothy grin, her hair now wispy like straw. What was once Merit seemed to enjoy the struggle and let out a husky female laugh. Mustafa felt the urine trickle down his left leg and saw it pool on the cool tiles just before he was hit with a sharp pain. For a second he looked, and even tried to grab at the entrails that seemed to just pop out of him. They were slippery though, and he couldn’t quite get a grip. There was just too much to put back in.

He looked up one last time and saw Merit there, it was her again and she looked terrified.
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Christopher Silva

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