Split Siren

"I don't think so."

Suzi frowned, as a another bead of sweat rolled down her face and into her mouth, its salty taste lingering on her tongue.

How could I be sweating? she thought. I'm freezin' my ass off.

John was reaching his peak. He cried out and arched his back as his hand movements became more intense, more primal. He breathed Suzi's name as if she were actually there in the bed straddling him.

When he finished, after several long minutes of catching his breath, he retrieved his pack of Camel Lights, fished out a cigarette, and lit up. He exhaled large plumes of smoke that floated in the air like skeletal fingers. He was relaxed and content. Good orgasms and good gore was all he craved.

Well, not exactly.

He also craved Suzi Parker.

In the theater of his mind's eye, John played out scenes of Suzi and him getting hitched, having children, and, most prevalent, fucking the shit out of each other.

An ash dangled from his cigarette, and then fell onto the centerfold.

"Damn!" John yelped, quickly swiping the ash away.

He was too late. The ash had already burned a hole in the centerfold. To be more precise, in Suzi's stomach...

"Ouch!" Suzi gasped in pain.

Ted looked at her and arched an eyebrow. "Somethin' the matter, Ms. Parker?"

"I dunno." She replied.

An angry red mark was on her stomach. She rubbed it, dumbfounded.

Ted squinted, looking at the blemish on her otherwise perfect figure. "Looks like a cigarette burn, don't it? You smoke?"

Suzi stopped fingering the bruise and looked away, evidently annoyed at Ted's constant prying. "Are you kiddin'? I quit years ago."

Ted smirked. "Want me to kiss your boo-boo?"

Suzi rolled her eyes on cue. Ted got the hint and walked away, no doubt searching for another specimen of the opposite sex to pester.

Within a few minutes, the director called for Suzi. She ran a cool hand through her blonde hair, a move born from years of practice, and walked in front of the camera. She thought she had her lines down perfect, thought she knew what to do...but she didn't know the half of it...

John didn't want to leave his date cramped between the lengthy articles in Scream Queen Illustrated...it just wasn't his style. Instead, he decided he would hang the centerfold on his wall, so that way the next time he and Suzi got physical he'd have both hands to play with.

John had never mastered the skill of ripping out pages. In school, when a classmate asked for a piece of loose-leaf from his notebook, he'd wind up severing the loose-leaf in half. Now, faced with the daunting task of removing the centerfold from the magazine, he took a moment to plan his strategy. Of course, the idea of undoing the three staples didn't occur to him...that, too, just wasn't his style. Instead, he decided to ease the centerfold out, prying it loose from the staples. So what if he left staple holes in her body? It was Suzi's top and bottom that fascinated him most, not her belly.

Carefully, he tugged the centerfold out of the magazine. He was close to success; he could smell it, but then...

He accidentally ripped the upper half of the centerfold (and Suzi, from the waist up) from the magazine; the lower half remaining loosely attached to the staples.

"Shit!" he hollered.

To his amazement, a spurt of blood gushed from the lower half of the centerfold...the lower half of Suzi...and ran down her legs.

"What the...?" John breathed.

With trembling fingers, he touched the sticky red substance. He inspected it between thumb and index finger and realized it was blood. Real blood.