NO TIME TO PARTY

February 5, 2019

 

NO TIME TO PARTY by Rick Haynes

 

Padding silently through the dense foliage the werewolves sought a high point to observe their quarry, and the edge of the cemetery proved to be the perfect spot. It had been a long time since they ate, and the smell of humans wafting on the breeze had turned their stomachs over like never before. Slavering at their mouths, they looked at one another, knowing that the kills would be swift, and the flesh exquisite.

 

As the dancing at the Halloween party below reached frenzy, they sensed their golden opportunity grew closer. Razor-sharp teeth gleamed in the moonlight. They saw their prey exposed in the dazzling lights around the DJ. Long howls would soon ring out. They salivated, for flesh and blood would once again fill empty stomachs.

 

 

The swimming pool was packed with scantily clothed girls and broad chested men. Sex was freely offered, and taken. The double divans around the pool were packed with couples, either watching others for inspiration or indulging in their own fantasies.

 

They had been summoned by a local millionaire to enjoy all of the fruits on offer, for at this hedonistic party every vice known to mankind was available. There would be no boundaries here, and no regrets thereafter, for each had signed the non-disclosure policy. And to break it meant banishment from the richest circle in town.

 

Naked waiters and waitresses served drinks on silver platters. From cocktails to cola and beer, they offered a huge selection. Smartly dressed men in suits and ties were offering a selection of drugs, as all tastes were catered for.

 

And looking down from the balcony was the man. Dressed in a black suit, open necked button down white shirt, and black patent shoes, he exuded money, lots of money. He eagerly watched his guests cavorting, his smile wide, yet his eyes were the colour of an Arctic sea in winter. Two bodyguards stood each side of the man, one male, and one female. Both were dressed in white, even their hair had been bleached the colour of purest snow. He flicked a finger. The girl moved forward, her dress swishing around her hips as she walked. He whispered in her ear. She listened, before moving like a wraith down the stairs to stand poolside. Taking one look, she pounced like a she wolf and sank her long fingernails into the arm of a man with both his fingers around the neck of a young girl. Shaking her head slowly from side to side sent out a clear message. The bloodied man moved away, carefully licking his wounds.

 

  

Up on the hill the werewolves howled as the scent of fresh blood assaulted their senses, yet their song was overpowered by the heavy beat from below. With their heads held high in the air, they readied themselves to run, to kill, and sate their thirst and hunger.

 

A huge bang rolled like thunder across the mansion and all the lights disappeared. The crowd screamed, the man in black yelled, people fell and pandemonium ensued.

 

The werewolves readied themselves, their fangs exposed, their claws scratching in the dirt. The leader surged forward and raced down the slope, his brethren following close behind, yet intense lights suddenly exposed them.

 

They paused, for another sound, an unwanted sound was coming from the speakers.

 

“Bollocks! Cut! Cut! Cut! Whose bloody mobile just rang?”

 

 

 

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