lb_lee: A pencil sketch of me drawing/writing in my sketchpad. (art)
[personal profile] lb_lee
This story is for Tracy Bradley of Manboobz, who requested the premise herein!  I hope you like it, Tracy, and happy Spookathon!

This story is about a sexual predator, and is from his point of view.  If you find that kind of psychology disturbing, you may want to leave this story for another day.

Top of the Food Chain

Vijay was a predator, and he was proud of it.

It was the natural order of things.  Tigers ate people, foxes ate chickens, and the strong devoured the weak.  Vijay had devoted much time and effort to becoming one of the strong, and damned if he was going to let mincing, ineffectual bleeding hearts hobble him.  To declaw a tiger was to mutilate the beauty of nature, and Vijay had no intention of doing the same to himself.  He had never met a happy toothless predator.

Vijay treated life as a succession of hunts, but the best kind, with the most thrilling chases and climactic resolutions, were sex.  Vijay had turned casual sex into a fine art and a methodical science.  With a snap of his fingers, he could get any woman he wanted into his bed.  Married women, lesbians, nuns, it didn’t matter, his techniques worked every time.  Women weren’t much smarter than dogs, really; all you had to do was train them.

There was only one problem.  Vijay was getting bored.

He’d done everything.  He knew all the desperate, vacant-eyed women in the clubs and bars, and he’d fucked every one of them worth fucking.  He’d done teenagers and executives and hardcore second-wave feminists.  He’d done BDSM and the Rape Game and every single page of the Karma Sutra, and none of it even got him hard anymore.

It was getting too easy.  He needed something new, something exciting, something challenging.  But what?  Women were stupid and self-centered and gullible; that definitively banned challenge.  For a day or two, he got desperate enough to consider trying men, just to give himself some novelty, but his cock just wasn’t into it, and hunting had no point if the meat tasted like shit.

Vijay was sitting at his favorite beachside club, sipping an over-priced microbrew and pondering his dilemma, when someone new walked in the door.  This on its own wasn’t that unusual, and Vijay gave her the usual habitual pass-over, but then he did something he hadn’t done in a decade: he looked again.

She was beautiful, of course, but that didn’t mean anything.  All meat rotted eventually, so the oval face, the naturally perfect wavy black hair, that wasn’t what caught Vijay’s attention.  It was her expression.  Her eyes weren’t empty and hollow, like the other women’s.  Her smile wasn’t the desperate grimace of a cock-hungry whore.  This was a woman who’d never been trained or broken, possibly never even used.  She seemed to radiate a deep inner light.

She was dressed in Army fatigues.

Vijay scanned his memory.  Had he ever fucked a soldier?  No, he hadn’t.  He got sailors in the dockside bars on occasion, but never a soldier.  He wondered if she was stronger than him; he hadn’t encountered that before either.  Even the wrestler had proved disappointingly easy, after he’d discovered her bad knee and her Daddy issues.  This woman, he was sure, was not coming to him third-hand.

He was intrigued. ‘Patel,’ her jacket read.  He got up and walked over to her, wearing his best smile, his sweetest, most gentle body language.

“Hi.  May I buy you a drink, private?”

She looked up from her stool.  He smile was sleep Mona Lisa. “First lieutenant, and I’m good.” She swept her eyes over him. “I’ll buy you one, though.”

Interesting.  She was trying to institute her own rules.  But Vijay was flexible. “Sure.  I never say no to a drink from a pretty woman.  You’re an officer?”

She laughed, a deep, throaty sound that’d never known terror. “Chaplain.”

“Really?  Saving men’s souls?”

“Something like that.” She handed him his drink and raised her glass to him. “Cheers.”

He stared deep into those radiant, dark eyes, toasted, and swallowed a shot of liquid fire.  It was the last thing he remembered in entirety.

After that, there were only scraps: laughter, weight, darkness, nausea.  A hospital bed.  A heart monitor: beep, beep, beep.

Silence.

When Vijay’s soul woke up, he found himself in front of a glowering entity surrounded by papers and books.  Despite its bureaucratic appearance, it was blinding and awesome in its power.

“What are you doing here?” Vijay cried. “I’ve been an atheist for years!” Then he realized something else. “What am I doing here?  Just a moment ago, I was… no.  No.  That… that woman… that—”

The entity silenced him with a gesture. “It is time for your next life.  I’ve been chosen to escort you there.” It didn’t sound happy about it.

Vijay tried to scream and rage and protest, but nothing happened.

“Vijay Sornalingam, throughout all your life, you preyed on the weak and vulnerable.  You abused the faith and trust of everyone around you and disrespected all of creation.  Also, you cheated on your taxes.”

Vijay fumed and raged in silence.  This wasn’t fair!  This was—

“In light of that, we have chosen your next life accordingly.  You shall be… a shark.”

Vijay paused.  A shark?  Really?  That didn’t sound so bad.  In fact, that sounded—

“Hopefully you find this educational,” the entity said.

There was a thunderclap of silence, and then void.

Vijay kept his sapience, briefly.  He felt himself slipping into the ocean, into the tastes and scents and electrical life-bursts of marine life.  He felt a surge of triumph.  He’d done it!  He was the top of the food chain!  The ultimate predator, all strength and power and teeth and—

Wait.  Where were his teeth?

They were there, but tiny, in a tiny mouth that could barely fit anything.  He was small and puny, even for a baby shark!  What—

But then a dark shadow passed overhead, and the last of Vijay’s humanity was gone, sending him fleeing into the darkness and comparative safety of the coral reef.  He was no longer a man, but a baby nurse shark, and although one day he’d be able to devour lobster and conch off the ocean floor like a vacuum cleaner, for now he needed to hide in the murk and wait for the night, with the rest of the bottom feeders.

Date: 2013-11-28 05:47 am (UTC)
ext_12246: (Default)
From: [identity profile] thnidu.livejournal.com
Goood! Karma works its way.

"-lingam" in his last name is perfectly appropriate! What's the "Sorna-"?

Not clear to me (and probably not meant to be): What is Patel, and what happened? What makes the most sense is that she was something like an angel come to collect him, but that raises more questions. Which is OK.

Date: 2013-11-28 06:05 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lb-lee.livejournal.com
Honestly, I'm not sure about the name. I just grabbed a name of a guy's wife off the web; her last name was Sornalingam, which I felt appropriate enough.

As for Patel... hard to say. A bodhisattva who's taken an EXTREMELY left-field view of bringing enlightenment to humanity? Karma personified? An ordinary human who just happens to be an even bigger predator than Vijay is? Whatever she was, Vijay ended up very much dead after his encounter with her.

And not gonna lie, I wouldn't mind writing Patel again, whichever of the three explanations you prefer. (I lean towards 'human, with a very extreme set of internal ethics,' myself.)

--Rogan
Edited Date: 2013-11-28 06:07 pm (UTC)

Loved it!

Date: 2013-11-29 12:47 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Tracy here :)

::applause::

A well-deserved fate. Also.. definitely write more about Patel. Very intriguing...

Date: 2013-11-29 03:00 am (UTC)
ext_12246: (Default)
From: [identity profile] thnidu.livejournal.com
And not gonna lie, I wouldn't mind writing Patel again, whichever of the three explanations you prefer. (I lean towards 'human, with a very extreme set of internal ethics,' myself.)

I'd love to see more of her. (No, not that way! Well, yes, but that isn't what I meant.) But she is clearly something very, very special: then he did something he hadn’t done in a decade: he looked again. That's part of why I didn't think she was (just) human.

Another reason is the sequence and speed of this:
“I’ll buy you one, though.”

Interesting. She was trying to institute her own rules. But Vijay was flexible.

“Sure. I never say no to a drink from a pretty woman. You’re an officer?”

She laughed, a deep, throaty sound that’d never known terror. “Chaplain.”

“Really? Saving men’s souls?”

She handed him his drink and raised her glass to him. “Cheers.”

He stared deep into those radiant, dark eyes, toasted, and swallowed a shot of liquid fire. It was the last thing he remembered in entirety.
From a drink bought at a bar? There's no mention of her ordering it, which could be taken either way– she had it prepared [though wouldn't he have noticed?], or she materialized it– as well as simply "the author skipped that".

BTW, I noticed a couple of slips of the finger, but I won't comment on such unless you want.
Edited Date: 2013-11-29 03:02 am (UTC)
Page generated Jul. 24th, 2017 08:37 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios