Origin Of Sin

18. The Other Type of Dark Thoughts

CHAPTER 18 THE OTHER TYPE OF DARK THOUGHTS

The music was so loud, I could see it dripping from the windows and the cracks of the doorway. The place reeked of weed and all of the alcohol. For such a seemingly beautiful but modest home, it was bursting at the seams with its sinful activities that were inside.

A couple suddenly burst from the doorway, giggling, laughing and continued to attempt to pull their clothes off of each other, even after they made it outside. I noted that woman skin was a bit iridescent, the lowering sun catching particular shiny patches and causing them to glitter and glow.

"Shlush! Sush shlush shushu! Wets gwet a boober ?" The woman in the skimpy cocktail dress drooled, nearly face planting on the pavement. The man laughed, helping her up, his opaque fingertips grasping her slender waist.

"Haha!! A boober! Ya mean a Uber babe!" The woman waved him off, pulling strands of her long black hair from her face and mouth. "Shushusu! Boober, buber, just be quiiiiet— Masta Mier hates house harties!" Again, the man laughed at her and continue to guide down the walkway. "He's not even here! He ran off days ago after he totally fucked that guy up! That's dudes never walking, much less speaking again. It was fucking awe—"

The woman hiccuped again, weak sparks of fire slipping past her fingertip as she covered her mouth. "Shushush, Marc! You know we're not supposed to talk about it!! ITS A SECRET!" She yelled into the garden once they reached the end of the walkway, heading towards the gate arches I once came through. I could see Marc grab his belly and laugh, nearly dropping her. They continued until I couldn't see them anymore, Marc's voice fading in a sudden sweet breeze. "Marisol, it's not a secret if you yell. Let's get you ho..."

I turned toward my companion, peering at him from under the shadows of his hood. "Zuemier left for that week or so because he beat someone up? That doesn't really make much sense..." My companion shrugged, before pushing open the door, and clambering his way inside.

.

.

.

As we stepped inside, I suddenly felt very grateful for catching the double dicked Unai fucking the two girls in my bedroom and scarring my eyeballs. I realize now, it was kind of like getting the chicken pox for the first time. Sure it's pretty awful but then your body builds a resistance to it after the first experience and you never get the chicken pox again.

I stepped inside of the quaint two-story home, filled with cutesy decor that was in complete contrast to the obscene scene of tens of young adults passionately fucking in various positions in the living room and dining room. It was practically the scene from DaVena's apartment accept there was no question in whether the occupants were alive or not.

The house reeked of sex- everyone's aromas mixed together to create an Aphrodites toxic tonic for fertility. Party lights cut through the fog of smoke and weed that carried harmonious sounds of moans and laughter.

I looked up to the hood of my companion again, another giggling couple- two guys this times, slipping between us towards the door. "Christ... you guys really go all out, huh. What's the occasion for?"

My companion finally acknowledged me, slipping down his hood for a thick curtain of ombré hair to be revealed in its confines. He raised a dark brow to me, looking down. "An occasion for fucking?" He scoffed and swiped a blunt from a drowsy look woman that was leaning against the wall. He gave me another look before shaking his head, scoffing and inhaling deeply.

"We're demons dear, we fuck to breathe not to celebrate." He murmured annoyed into the smoke. I followed the cloud as it gently floated over a familiar figure before disappearing. "Harder Unai! Please, harder!" "Yes!"