first line Prompt #220 - First Line

Cia · March 29, 2013

Prompt 220 – Creative

First Line: “Why is my underwear hanging off the chandelier?”

Mann Ramblings · March 30, 2013

This is a little different from my usual fare, but it's what came to mind.

* * * *

Why are my underwear hanging from the chandelier?

Wait. No. Those aren't mine. Why am I lying on the floor looking at the ceiling?

I try to open my eyes wider but the room seems too bright even with only the chandelier's glow. The floor underneath me feels polished smooth and unyielding like marble. Carefully, I look around with my squinted eyes but everything is so hazy. I don't feel so good.

Rolling over is difficult. My body feels sluggish and doesn't immediately obey my commands. I have to climb to my hands and knees just to gather the balance to possibly stand upright. I stumble once and slam my knee into the hard stone. Even the pain is murky. With a great effort I'm on my feet, my vision and body sways against my will but I don't fall.

Why am I naked?

I turn in a lazy circle. The lavish foyer I'm standing in has a pair of closed doors before me and open doors to either side. A large stairway looms behind me from where I started. There are other pieces of clothing strewn here and there along the floor. The scent of salt and sex are heavy in the air but I don't understand why. The trail of discarded fashion leads me to the left, so I follow it because I can't think of anything else to do.

It feels like night time.

My vision refuses to stay still as I step forward on unsteady feet. Am I starving? I'm so thirsty; I must be dehydrated. My body aches and I feel so damned weak. Thoughts crash into dirty walls inside my head as I struggle to remember.

What's happened to me?

The expensive door frame supports me when my feet refuse. A rush of heat through my face makes me crush my eyes closed. I open them carefully as I step gingerly into the room. The lights are dim which is easier on my eyes but it doesn't stop me from almost tripping on the expensive furniture in front of me. I can smell the sex in this room and something else.

I'm not alone in here.

A number of beautiful young men lay about the room entangled with each other. Their state of undress matches my own. Was there some kind of orgy here? It's hard to see in the dim light, let alone my compromised sight.

Why aren't they moving?

I inch closer and stop when I step in something wet. The carpet is saturated, it's elaborate design darkened in large pools that seem to emanate from the pile of men. My breathing begins to spike as I catch a flash of crimson spatter over several of them. Are they even breathing?

The solitary sound I can hear is my deafening heart rate. Clarity snaps in and out of my vision to the sight of bloody spatter staining the room in all directions. Several of the young men have been tortured and maimed. Is that one missing his head?

Oh dear god. It's an abattoir.

My stomach rolls as adrenaline and horror give me the strength to scramble backwards out of the room, dry heaving as I falter. Even with my muddled senses I'm on the edge of losing control. If I'm not careful I'm going to hyper-ventilate.

What was that sound?

There's a soft whisper of movement across the foyer. Are there more of them? Maybe someone's still alive? That thought alone overrides my better judgement and I stumble hurriedly across the hall as the room tries to spin. Why is it so hard to think? Have I been drugged? I catch myself in the opposite doorway and take a deep breath to steel myself before stepping inside.

More pale and mangled young men litter the room. The blood bath in this room makes a tear escape my blurry eyes. I don't know what I expected to see. I don't understand.

My head swims and catches sight of a man crouched over one of the men broken along the wall. The only occupant of this house wearing clothes, he's examining the youth's arm holding it aloft as scarlet streaks drip from the fingertips. He doesn't belong here. Who is he?

“There you are,” he says as he turns to me, casually dropping the lifeless arm to the floor. Something about his eyes is familiar but I don't know why.

I can't even scream out loud.

Madly I rush for the closed set of doors, praying they're the way out. I can't stay in here. My hands scratch deep lines in the heavy wood when the knob refuses to turn. I shriek when his hand grips my shoulder.

He roughly spins me around and lifts me from the ground. My god, he's so strong. With his arms wrapped around me I have no leverage to hit or kick him. It doesn't stop me from trying in my panic. All the while it feels like he's stroking me as he holds me tight and presses my head to his shoulder.

“Shh. . . don't fight, sweetheart.”

I can't stop sobbing. Nothing I do is helping me free myself. I'm going to be added to the pile of forgotten men in the salons. He's holding me like a lover with the strength of a madman. My arms and legs flail at him and do absolutely nothing. They're useless.

So I bite him as hard as I can. The side of his neck is the only thing I can reach.

He gasps in pain, so I bite harder. The taste of warm copper fills my mouth.

“Yes,” he hisses, “Hurt me.”

The hand on my back rises up and grips my hair. With his freakish strength he holds me in place; I can't pull away. I'm drowning. I have no choice but to swallow and keep swallowing as more blood threatens to choke me. The erotic sounds he's making just makes me cry harder.

When he finally pulls me away, I've already given up. Lines of drooled blood run down his neck and stain his white button down shirt. The panic is gone. My feet won't hold me if he decides to let me go. Breathing heavily, his wild eyes burn into mine.

“Are you beginning to feel like yourself now, Marcus?” he whispers.

I'm starting to feel strangely stronger and my head isn't swimming so fiercely. The fear has retreated. He's still very familiar and the more he looks at me the more that feeling grows. There's something intimate about his touch and the way he holds me.

“I never should have turned you,” he said. His gentle hand smoothed the hair along my temple. “The others warned me but I refused to listen. When you begged me for eternity I couldn't say no.”

With hardly an effort he lifted me, cradled in his arms. I leaned against his chest and looked up at his supple mouth, the points of his fangs just barely visible.

“You cling so tightly to your humanity, you refuse to feed. Then the madness comes upon you.”

He looked so sad as he turned to each of the open rooms. His elegant blond hair framed his porcelain skin and I found myself remembering the affection I possessed for him.

“I'm so lucky to have found you. If the others find out about this carnage they will put you down.”

His mouth grew tight as he swallowed down a rush of emotion. A firm kiss of cold lips left their signature on my forehead as he held me tight.

“I will find a way to help you,” he whispered. “I will not give you up, my mate.”

layla · March 30, 2013

Holy crap mann, vampires! Awesome!!

Wicked Witch · March 30, 2013

Awesome Mann. When I read this prompt, the first thing that popped into my head was "VAMPIRES!" but you did a much better job with using the prompt than I ever would have.

joann414 · March 30, 2013

I'm with Layla, Holy crap! Vampires. lol

asamvav111 · March 30, 2013

Did anybody else fantasized about Mann being Marcus and naked... I did! *raises hand sheepishly*

Awesome glimpse indeed... hoping you are gonna continue this.

Mann Ramblings · March 30, 2013

Thanks everyone! I didn't plan on going the vamp route at first, the idea just evolved into that as I processes the idea.

I'm getting to the idea that these prompts may be launching points for future stories. They've done me a lot of good.

Slytherin · March 30, 2013

Holy smoke !! I loooooooooove vampire stories and this prompt was really good

Well done sir, I just realized that I pressed the like-button so now it should be 606 likes

Mann Ramblings · March 30, 2013

Thank you! I hope I can freeze it when the number gets to 666.

Greg_A · March 31, 2013

“Why is my underwear hanging off the chandelier?” I asked almost afraid of the answer I’d get.

“You don’t remember do you?” Alex said with a smirk. That twinkle in his eye told me I really didn’t want to know and if my head hadn’t been throbbing so much I could have strangled him. “You were very…. entertaining Zach!”

I sat down on Alex’s couch rubbing my temples trying to remember the events of the previous evening. Surely I hadn’t put them up there had I? And why the hell was the little man who lived in my skull beating my brains with a sledgehammer? Why didn’t he go visit Alex for a while and leave me alone? The fact that I was naked wasn’t really helping me feel any better either but I figured Alex had seen everything I had many times before that one more time wasn’t going to kill me.

“What did I do?” I asked in a trembling voice. I knew it had been a mistake to let Alex take me out for my birthday. A quiet night at home after a long day at work was all I had been looking forward to but then Alex had showed up announcing we had to celebrate. Protests that I was tired were ignored and before I knew it Alex had shoved me into his car and off we went. It was supposed to have just been dinner. I should have known better.

“You drank a little too much,” Alex replied laughing at me. “You probably should have stopped after the tequila shots.”

“I did shots?” I asked trying to remember. I vaguely remembered Alex suggesting we hit a few bars to continue celebrating after we finished eating. I freely admit I’m a light weight when it comes to holding my alcohol. And Alex knows that. When he ordered wine with our meal it hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary though. But he kept refilling my glass all thru our meal and I wasn’t paying attention. It had been several months since I had seen him last and I was enjoying being in his presence once again.

“Yeah, you did shots,” Alex said bringing me a mug of hot tea. Coffee would have worked faster but Alex remembered I wasn’t much of a coffee drinker. “But don’t blame me,” Alex continued. “You were the one who suggested them. It wouldn’t have been so bad but everybody at the Rainbow wanted to buy you a birthday drink.”

“The Rainbow,” I asked even more confused. “Where the hell is that?” I never really get out much and I honestly don’t know the names of but maybe three bars at most. But with a name like Rainbow I had a feeling Alex had dragged me to a gay bar.

“It’s a bar downtown,” Alex answered smirking once again. “They have music and dancing and the drinks are pretty reasonable.” Alex’s grin became positively evil then. “And last night they had live entertainment. All of the patrons were very enthusiastic about it.”

“What kind of entertainment?” I asked nervously. I noticed my hands were beginning to tremble and I carefully set my tea down before I spilled it. Alex’s grin was just a little too mischievous for my comfort and I knew what that meant.

“They had a male stripper,” Alex answered nonchalantly. “And damn! He was hot too! But you know I have a thing for blonds and hairy chests so I might have been biased.

I know my face had to have gone a little pale as I swallowed hard. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what I might have done with a stripper. Knowing Alex he had probably gotten the poor guy to give me a lap dance or something.

“Uhm, do they, uh, usually have strippers?” I asked, my voice squeaking a little.

“Not normally,” Alex answered taking a sip from his coffee. “We got lucky I guess. Not that the guy took off everything. He kept his underwear on, but it was still sexy as hell.” Alex grinned at me again. “Everybody there was very appreciative of the guy. He was getting offers left and right. All the guys were buying him drinks too. I think they were all thinking they could get him drunk enough to go home with one of them. “

“How, uh, how long did we stay there?” I was dying to ask what I had done to earn all those smirks from Alex. But I knew if I did he’d only drag it out that much longer. All those smirks he was giving me told me I had done something I’d be embarrassed about. I’m usually shy as hell but with the way Alex was leering at me I knew I had to have done something like kiss the guy. Surely I hadn’t groped him or anything. I couldn’t imagine myself doing something so…blatant as that.

“Several hours actually,” Alex answered getting up and walking back to the kitchen. “We stayed till closing anyway,” he threw back over his shoulder. I could hear him rummaging around and figured he was looking for something to eat. “Since it was so late I brought you here instead of taking you home. My place was closer.”

Alex came walking back into the living room munching on a sandwich. Just the thought of food was enough to make my stomach roll. I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to eat again. But Alex had a bottomless pit for a stomach and had ever since I had known him.

“By the way,” Alex said casually as he retook his seat. “I hope those pants you wore last night weren’t favorites or anything.”

“No they weren’t anything special,” I replied. “Why? Did I spill something on them or something?” I asked. That would be just my luck that I’d have soaked or stained pants to wear today. There was no way I’d ever fit into anything of Alex’s.

“Well, yeah, actually you did Zach,” Alex replied trying to keep a straight face. “You bumped into one of the waiters and got a pitcher of beer down your front.”

I looked at Alex wondering what he was hiding. “Beer ain’t too bad,” I mumbled. “At least after I wash them it won’t leave a stain.”

“Well, that’s the problem Zach,” Alex laughed. “I don’t think you are going to have any luck washing them.”

“Why the hell not?” I demanded. I was getting more than a little irritated now. Alex was having way too much fun with all of this. I knew I had made a fool of myself somehow but he didn’t need to keep rubbing it in. And he could have just told me what I had done instead of making a production of the whole thing.

“Well,” Alex drawled. “You’re gonna have a problem washing them cuz you didn’t bring them home with you.” Alex’s grin was downright evil now.

“Wh…what?!” I demanded.

“After you spilt the beer you decided you didn’t want to sit in wet clothes all night,” Alex explained around his laughter. “And before I could stop you, you pulled off your shirt. Some of the other guys noticed and they all started clapping and whistling. Surprised the hell out of me when you kicked off your pants too.” Alex was nearly doubled over he was laughing so hard. “I got to you before you managed to take off your underwear, but I was very unpopular when I did.”

“I..I…I…” I spluttered unable to get anything else out.

“By the way,” Alex continued, “you might be interested to know that your underwear becomes see thru when it’s wet. At least all the guys were interested in that little fact

Finn · March 31, 2013

o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/

“Why is my underwear hanging off the chandelier?”

I scanned the room. The monkeys were staring at me, their faces blank. It unnerved me—their empty gazes, mixed with their smiling faces. They were so ugly. And they were the palace staff, assigned to my service by the Emperor himself.

Though sentient—genetically engineered superiors to their natural brethren—they still couldn’t resist their primal urges as often as I wished they would. Although, it could simply be the Emperor’s doing… I still don’t quite believe these monkeys could’ve planned a city-wide festival without my knowing—the festival was massive, too. It was practically a riot.

One I had to deal with.

Damn them to Chaos.

“I said, why my underwear hanging off the chandelier?” I repeated, walking down the steps of the Grand Staircase. There was a pair of guards—humans, praise the Singularity—a few steps behind me. I’d just finished a meeting with the Sarusilem Security Forces concerning a potential conflict with local states; thankfully, the monkey wasn’t aware, and seemed frightened by their presence.

The monkey coughed, his face reddened as the guards played along. They stayed at my flanks even after reaching the marble floor, watching the creature through their omniscient black goggles—those things knew everything, connected to the Imperial Intelligence Network. I had my own built into my artificial eye, though it couldn’t quite answer my present question.

“Darryl, Darryl,” the monkey began, eyeing his comrades. They were making themselves scarce, disappearing down the many halls.

I noticed a shadow move in my periphery, and turned in time to see a pair of monkeys disappear down the hall carrying a basket full of clothes—my clothes. I glared back to the stutterer, whose grin only widened.

“We were only, err, washing it, Prince,” the monkey answered wisely, clasping his hands behind his back. Paired with the charcoal-black suit he wore, he’d have passed for a gentleman if he wasn’t coated in black hair.

I glanced up at the underwear. It was swaying with the chandelier, the wind entering from the open palace doors. The boxers were black.

I wore everything but. And they could only be mine, considering I was the only human of that size.

“That doesn’t explain how it got on the bloody ceiling,” I barked, meeting the creature’s face again. “Why is it even black? Did you guys dip everything in oil again? I swear, if you did, I’m exiling you all to the Stormfront, Emperor’s orders be damned.”

I couldn’t help but smile smugly as the creature’s face dropped. He took a step forward, brandishing his arms in the process. “No, no!” he shouted. “It wasn’t oil this time!” He froze, quickly bringing his fingers over his big mouth.

“What was it, then?” I seethed. He shot me his big-toothed grin again, and clenched my fists in anger. Why did they enjoy torturing me?

“Cake batter,” he declared excitedly.

“Cake batter….”

“Cake batter!”

I pouted, scowled, pressed my fingers to my nose as my body tried to move in all directions at once. It settled for shudder, as the guards lost their patience and left the palace.

“Why did you cover my clothes in cake batter!?” I demanded. “Wait, on second thought, I don’t want an answer.” I waved him away, turning around to head up the stairs.

I chose a terrible, terrible time to. The monkeys had been busy at work, it seemed. I was met with another basket, this one metal and releasing a flood of chocolate batter onto me. The sheer weight of it knocked me back, throwing me onto the marble floor.

It took a few moments to recover, and when I did, the monkeys were gone.

In their place was a pack of Varvans.

They were big creatures, even in their infancy. These were puppies, only a few feet tall, as opposed to the few yards they would become. They were ugly too, far more than the monkeys. They were four-legged creatures, as hairy as the monkeys too. They had tails that they controlled just as well, being able to sway them in all directions. Their faces were droopy, much like a grown bulldog’s, and dominated by their big brown eyes. At least, they normally were. These had their long, pink tongues running wildly in front of them, excited at the sweet treat presented to them.

I spent hours in the baths that day… and still felt dirty afterwards.

nostic · April 2, 2013

"Why is MY underwear hanging off the chandelier?" Cain shouted back the question his father had asked a few seconds ago before he stormed out the kitchen to get what his father called underwear.

"Put your glasses on, for fuck's sake! That's not MY underwear. Dad, it's not even an underwear." A chair was dragged under the so-called chandelier and he pushed his lean frame up the chair to grab the piece of cloth.

The item flew a while before it softly landed on the counter in front of Cain's father who was still looking for the lost pair of glasses.

"I have no idea why you insist on calling Jane the neatest creep in the world."

The chair followed Cain around the living room until he decided to leave it next to the wall.

The crashing sound of the chair as it hit the table made his dad look at his wayward son. Although he had tried to understand the never ending fights between the siblings, he could never find a single reasonable explanation for so much hostility between his kids. The twins started their fight for dominance from their very first days but they truly hurt each other when they grew their first set of teeth. Cain nearly tore his sister's finger off because she refused to let him play with her fluffy dog. The poor toy ended in the garbage a few days later when Cain succeeded to dismantle its limbs with as much cruelty as a one year old could muster.

“Dad, are you even listening to me?” A pair of glasses moved in front of his eyes before it landed soundlessly on the bar next to the strange piece of cloth he’d assumed as Cain’s underwear. The boy grabbed the piece to take a better look, mumbling random words and poking at it as if it was a living thing and it was going to bite him one way or another. To his surprise the cloth crept away as soon as he put it back on the counter.

“See, I knew it. She left me another note that disgustingly looks like one of her girlie stuff.” His dad put on the glasses calmly and examined what was left in front of him. It definitely wasn’t any kind of underwear though it was corby pink, Cain’s favorite color, and he could never figure out why his son insisted on wearing those loud colorful underwear and call his sister’s belongings girlie. To be honest, Cain was the feminine one of the twins.

“So, are you going to tell me what she means this time or I gotta take care of the problem myself?” Cain comfortably stretched his upper limbs on the bar so he could get a better view, licking his lips anxiously and waiting for his father’s magical words. He totally hated the fact that his annoying twin inherited all the good genes from their parents including the magic.

No matter how hard he stared at that ugly thing, nothing revealed itself to his keen blue eyes. He ran a shaky hand through his disheveled brown hair making it messier than its normal condition without averting his gaze. If he had to beg for any information, he’d rather ask his dad than any of the female members of his family known for their endless cruelty toward the talentless Cain. He was on the verge of begging when his father started to whisper the words. “It’s not that kinda note; it’s a…..”

Cain missed half of what his father was saying as the front door slammed open and his sister rushed inside, climbing two steps at a time to get to her room.

Cain glared at his sister’s shadow before looking back at his father.

“Here son. It’s the number of the guy she’s planning to go out with.” Cain grabbed the piece of paper his father had neatly jotted down the number on, he’s never stopped trying to make his son realize what the best behavior was.

A second Cain was scanning the paper and the next he was standing in front of his sister’s bedroom door shooting fireballs and profanities.

“Holy mother of nature, that’s some complicated magic son.”

Smell of burnt wood filled the house before Cain’s voice shook his dad to the core.

“How dare you date MY boyfriend?” "Why is MY underwear hanging off the chandelier?" Cain shouted back the question his father had asked a few seconds ago before he stormed out the kitchen to get what his father called underwear.