The Story of Harmless Bullet

Day 22
Evolution of Marriage

/absurdist comedy/ 

Nothing is more terrifying than the sudden and unpredictable change, especially the loss of freedom. That’s why we are so frightened by marriage. 

Everything around me went black for a moment. The pores all over my body – disturbed, spongy, sieve-like – gave a strange, long, quite loud noise when a six-foot rubber hose was taken out from the right sleeve of Ms. Sweet Hellfire and aimed at me. The pictures of instant torture began to dance inside of my head. I wondered: ‘Shouldn’t they first interrogate a suspect? Do they have a real jail? Will I ever see my mother again?’ but instead, I asked my tormentor, “What I’ve done wrong?”
“Nothing. I just like it. And it’s far more effective than simply killing you,” Ms. Sweet Hellfire explained.

Ms. Sweet Hellfire

 I listened in agony. Meanwhile, the monster of the Warrior Farm continued, “Ah, when it whacks against your skinny ass, at first, it bites into your flesh, and then it sticks out a bit – inch by inch. It is so lovely!”
To say my skin crawled and my blood oozed out after her short and serene confession is to say nothing at all. My lust has been my punishment; because the woman – Sobekneferu Queen – the one I wanted to find, has nourished a strange passion, which became my doom and my misery.
 “Don’t worry; I’m going to beat a bit of sense into you, Doctor Harmless, my soon-to-be husband!” Ms. Sweet Hellfire added.
Needless to say, after that shocking revelation, I surrendered to her powers: with extended arms, I welcomed her purgatory intentions with a scream of joy. 

Harmless Bullet

 On the following day, I woke up in the cave. Instinct – or perhaps an alarming sense of self-preservation – made me leave the place in a rush, and I tripped and fell near the entrance. Only then did I notice that I wore green knitted trousers, a yellow t-shirt, and pink slip-on heel sandals. My heart pounded with fear – I had no recollection of changing clothes. In the hope of escaping the benefits of a morning romp, I hurried out, jogged down from the top of the mountain, where a cave was located, looking over my shoulder in the direction of the place where I spent last night. 

 Of course, I tried to convince myself that Ms. Sweet Hellfire would forget about the marriage as soon as the next male guest showed up. But I was wrong… Two days later, I stood in the white chapel dressed like a king, reading the words on the paper with a poor enthusiasm: “O Holy Saints! My dearest angel, Ms. Sweetest Hellfire, let me come in. I have lived in this glorious world alone for too long, and I had never experienced such amazing delights of Eros until you woke me up. Never, till this moment, did I know what true love is… Let me come in.”

“My door is locked,” flirted Ms. Sweet Hellfire under the soft and shadowy hint of the glowing screen. The screen was connected to the house of each citizen of this dreadful town.
“I have a key,” I replied, hesitating what I was supposed to do next: read the rest of the text, kneel, kiss the bride, or wait for approval from the blue screen.
“O blessed key! Please, liberate me! Us!” Ms. Sweet Hellfire shouted.
After that anguished howl, absolute terror deprived me of my body: I sunk, senseless, on the floor. My bride tried to tranquilize my spirits and elevate my ‘key’ somehow, but anxiety made me constantly shake or faint. Ms. Sweet Hellfire enjoyed that exhausting suspense.

Wedding Chapel

 The next few hours passed in agitated conversation between the bright screen and my ‘newborn, complementary’ wife. I was unaware of most of the drama that went on around me, but I did a couple of stretches on the floor and watched how the sun’s rays faded slowly behind the windows. The conversation had come to an end, and the blue screen switched off. After that, the tense melancholy took over the walls in the giant wedding room. Pulse, breathing, rustle – it was too quiet around me. I thought that Mrs. Sweet Hellfire had decided I was dead or passed out because of my inborn shyness and weak heart, but I left those hopes when I felt a firm grip on my shoulder. 

Ms. Sweet Hellfire

 “I believe it will be very long before I forget myself in sleep today,” Mrs. Sweet HellFire groaned. She took off her wedding dress, her warm jacket under the dress, and began to roll up the sleeves of her furry lingerie. Then, she grabbed my body and threw it on the luxury king-size round bed.

Her eyes expressed the dark passion of rare sweetness (it was uncommon, especially for a dentist), with a slight symptom of madness.
‘That groan was so human,’ I thought but said nothing.
“Don’t worry, darling Harmless. It will be a night worth remembering!”
A strong survival impulse, which I had inherited from my poor father, gave me the energy to raise my hand and look at our marriage certificate with the fresh signature of Alphonso Beard, the man I never met.
“No, please, no… Sobekneferu…” I whispered in a shaky voice. “One day, I’ll find you, I promise, even if I have to get back from the land of Dead.” 


 The drums and the trumpet from the far corner of the room started to play the last dance wedding song. I made one more effort to hide between the pillows but was stopped by the strong hands of my wife.
“It won’t help,” she grabbed a heavy bed and pulled it out of the chapel. We continued the journey to the remote location, far from the blue screen, the music, the moon, Alphonso Beard, or any civilization. And there, in the darkness, I said aloud for the last time, “Sobekneferu…”, enjoying my own echo.

Harmless Bullet

Next post  – Day 23. Alphonso Beard/The Story of Harmless Bullet 



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