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June 24, 2024

Dark Whispers: Running Amok 09

By Lydia Manx

Still using his fake French accent the captain slithered closer to Charlotte saying, "Charlie, what a delightful surprise! Paulette, you never cease to amaze me with your charms. To bring such a petite luscious girl for me is wonderful. Let's put the sailing lessons aside for now and go below and find some champagne." Charlotte regretted her choice of evening wear as the man touched her bare back. The red halter topped dress was comfortable and so cute that she couldn't resist. The sandals weren't too good on the wood surface of the deck but he hadn't even looked at her feet. He was too busy trying to see down her top.

"Captain Claude, what a perfectly splendid idea." Paulette nodded like a bobble-head doll while agreeing. Charlotte may have put too much of a 'like me' spin on her earlier vampiric suggestions. Paulette smiled at Charlotte. That was scary. Women with botox in their faces don't quite smile as much as they show their teeth in an utterly menacing manner. Since the smile didn't even begin to reach her eyes Charlotte knew she wasn't totally convinced about the idea of skipping the sailing lesson to play below deck. It would work in her favor if she could avoid permanently maiming or killing them. Time would tell -- that was all still pretty much up in the air.

"Greg, you can take us out. Head up towards Mullins Bay and keep her off the shoreline this time!" He muttered, "Damn fool was watching women last month and nearly grounded us." Charlotte bit back a smirk as she noticed his French accent had slipped a bit. It wasn't like his eyes were exactly on the running of his craft. No he had other things bouncing around his brain and they all seemed to involve things other than the ocean.

Briskly waving off one of the tasty-looking deckhands Captain Claude opened the door for Paulette and Charlotte. Charlotte liked the look of the tan buff boy Claude had rudely dismissed and was unable to resist giving him a smile and a quick wink. He blushed and edged away before she could get to find out his name. The captain had his hand on the middle of her back and propelled her towards the main cabin. Paulette whined, "But let's try to get back up top soon so I can pilot the boat."

"Paulette, my little one, you didn't think I let you come aboard just to play on deck did you?" He grinned and stroked Paulette's arm. "The way the moon lights up your smile and the wind plays with your hair is enough to drive me wild. We must go slowly, a mere sip or two of bubbly and I will be able to handle such a pair as you." Charlotte resisted shuddering because Claude's hand was still on her and he would have definitely misinterpreted the motion for excitement not disgust.

"Charlie, dear, how about you -- did you come here to play with my big toy also?" That was too much she pulled away from his touch and yanked open the door to a large room. A glance around and she knew it would do.

"Oh, Paulette, look he has such a big bed! I call dibs." She laughed and jumped in the middle of the bed bouncing up and down. It actually was a pretty good mattress. Claude's face was stunned. He thought Christmas had arrived early. Paulette, it turned out, did have another expression her face could stretch into without too much shifting -- sheer anger. Through a tight jaw she said, "Charlie, that is not where you are supposed to be."

Like she thought Charlotte was a dog to be curbed she snapped her fingers and indicated the bottle of iced champagne sitting off to the side. A puzzled look washed over her face as it dawned on her that the captain hadn't intended on starting the trip letting her steer anything above deck. She turned slowly towards Claude. At least the anger was turned to the captain. This would work well for what Charlotte intended on doing. Soon she would be in control. A delightful feeling of euphoria ran through her and she hid another smile in the pile of pillows on the bed.

"Claude, I told you I wanted to be the skipper for a change. Last time you swore to me you were prepared to let me drive this craft when I came back. And also you were going to let me boss the crew around and everything. Figures you were lying again. I'm not staying here if you keep lying to me. In order to advance there must be honesty in any relationship!" Paulette was beginning to pace and grumble. Charlotte had flipped onto her back watching the good captain try to get back into Paulette's good graces. She was momentarily forgotten by the creepy man.

The captain whisked the two champagne flutes off the side table and quickly poured the bubbly. Charlotte had noticed that he already had the cork off and the champagne appeared to be the exact perfect temperature. Yeah, he was not letting Paulette steer anything up top that was quite obvious. She picked up on the clues being scattered and began to seethe.

He handed her the filled flute and headed towards Charlotte saying, "Charlie, I guess we will have to share this flute."

"Don't think it's my vintage, Claude old boy." She giggled and pushed his other hand away from her breasts. Somehow he had the mistaken idea that her chest would be sipping from the glass.

The original push she had put into Paulette's mind to get access to the boat was starting to fade but her anger over Claude's manipulation was overriding any normal self-preservation instincts that should have kicked in by now. The innate basic human instincts she should have had were being derailed by jealousy and anger. Charlotte did notice she shot back the glass of champagne with obviously more than a passing acquaintance with the liquid.

"Oh, what do you like to sip? Something a bit stronger perhaps?" Claude's accent had come back, "And maybe French?" He waggled his eyebrows in what he thought was an attractive manner.

"Something red for sure. I am not so sure about the exact vintage. Though I find Europeans don't have the depth anymore, too much inbreeding and not complex enough for my tastes. The younger houses at least aren't yet as devoid of richness." Charlotte said it all in a droll bored manner. She was amused to watch Claude try to think if he had something she would like in a bottle. Not a bottle but he would definitely be able to quench her hunger with something on board.

He tossed the glass of champagne down his throat and went to refill his glass and Paulette's. She slapped his hand from the bottle and took it from him refilling her glass seconds after she finished the one he had just poured her. Holding the flute in one hand and the bottle in the other she said, "Claude, you are in trouble here. I am not happy with you at all." Charlotte noticed that she was beginning to be worse for the wear having slammed back three flutes of expensive champagne in mere minutes.

Tapping into their fears wasn't going to work at this point. Anger was lighting up the room like a spotlight and Charlotte figured she would push a few buttons on her own and see if she could shoot that light up a notch or two. Not like she couldn't handle the captain and his mate. The sound of the ocean slapping against the hull of the ship made her a bit edgy but she wasn't going to kill them, just have a little fun. Maybe set these two lovebirds up a little. A good old lesson in general manners and then maybe let the crew have their turn. What she had seen happen to the guys while watching the boat made her know they definitely had their grievances with the captain. It would be her good deed for the day -- as it were.

"Paulette, my baby, you know I would do anything for you. This little morsel here is just a small appetizer. You, my luscious one, are the main course. You satisfy me!" He kissed at her hands and face while she put the table between them. He had called 'Charlie' luscious not twenty minutes ago and she saw her chance to cause some trouble as Paulette couldn't have forgotten that so soon.

"I am just a nibble and she's some huge meal?" Charlotte widened her eyes and sharpened her claws. She planned on drawing blood one way or another. Paulette drained another glass finishing the bottle and found another unopened one buried in the ice. She dropped off the empty and picked up the new bottle. It was quite obvious that Claude planned on getting Paulette completely hammered and keeping her out of his bridge. She defiantly popped the cork and slopped more into her cup. Draining that flute in a single gulp she waited for Claude's reply. Charlotte had lost count of how many glasses Paulette had emptied by then.

"Non, non, ma petite. You are how they say, mistaking what I am saying!" His accent was very pronounced and he just missed catching her as she spun away from his grasp.

Fortified by the champagne she spit out, "Liar! You aren't even really French. Yes, I know! You aren't from France, you're from Canada. Not even Quebec! I googled your ass and found out you were raised in Vancouver." She looked down her well formed nose at him. His face fell and temporarily his arrogance.

He quivered slightly and Charlotte pounced, "Paulette, your captain friend is a fake? Oh my god, did you let him touch you?" Her voice was high and excited and Paulette nodded blurry eyed met Charlotte's eyes and said, "He was a bad fuck too." All the alcohol had caught up.

Charlotte went in for the kill.

"Yeah, I bet his wife thinks so too!" She sniped out quickly.

"She does NOT." The stupid captain objected loudly before what he said ran through his brain. Paulette caught it before he did. His eyes widened as what he admitted dawned on him.

"You're married? You said your wife was dead." Paulette actually had lines on her face. They weren't pretty lines of happiness but extremely deep furrows. Maybe she sprung the botox injections free from the pockets underneath her face. Something certainly was popping besides champagne corks.

Dismissively he waved his hands outwards towards the vast sea, "Ah, she is far away in Vancouver. And living with her mother. Dead to me." He tried to recover. A line of sweat ran from his forehead and off his nose. It was then Charlotte noticed the reason he was sweating so much was that he was wearing a hairpiece. How she had missed that she didn't know but it definitely made this little man that much more amusing.

"But that's not like really dead now is it?" Charlotte twirled a finger through her hair and watched the two of them square off. No sense in letting Claude actually convince Paulette he meant well by his lies.

"Cherie, you are unbelievably beautiful. Before you, Paulette, I was so alone. Doomed to be wandering the seas and then I met you and knew I found my true soul mate, and you wanted me," he attempted to grab her hand the one with the bottle of champagne still in it. Even Charlotte could see that was a mistake. Paulette swung the bottle up and smacked the nearly full container against his forehead. The sound was somewhat entertaining from Charlotte's view point. Not quite the vaudevillian quality of a melon being tossed off a building and thumping into a clueless clown standing below, but a close second.

The fun didn't end there. No, the sliding bottle crested over Claude's forehead scrapping off the toupee. The glue he used to keep it on his head failed under the heavy layer of sweat and the decisive motion of the bottle. The chunk of fake hair sailed off his head and thwacked the back of the wall. Paulette squealed and put the bottle down quickly. She thought she had taken the top of his head off when the magnum of champagne had simply gouged a thin line across the top of his forehead. He was bleeding. Charlotte felt her fangs push out. Hell, she hadn't expected that to happen.

"Damn you, Claude, stop moving." Paulette had stumbled to the floor next to the embarrassed and heavily bleeding man -- head wounds bled so easily. She still had her glass in her hand and accidentally spilt some champagne into his cut forehead. The bubbles from the champagne weren't helping. He screamed like a teenager at a boy band rock concert. The pitch was that only tweens and teens could usually hit. But instead of some asexual creature hopping around to the beat it was Paulette fluttering and muttering. Charlotte was working on keeping her teeth to herself. They both were completely vulnerable.

Article © Lydia Manx. All rights reserved.
Published on 2006-09-25
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