My Life is Horrific Chapter 2 — V is for Vixen (Patreon)

You know...

Nothing really said the eighties like a bunch of kids riding their bikes in a loose pack like they were in a goddamn Spielberg film. Honestly there were probably more bikes here than in Amsterdam, every damn kid had one.  Fortunately for me, I wasn't one of them. As per the laws of the eighties. I was a popular kid. So somehow. I had a car. I didn't fully understand how that worked, I mean I remember getting it and fixing it up with my dad, but it's still kinda strange. I came from a time where insurance pretty much patted you down for loose change and yet right now my household had three cars, one of which belonged to a trophy wife who didn't even go anywhere most of the time. 

I slapped my head and took a breath, hyper fixating on insurance prices wasn't going to help. Let's just get home.

I made my way across the cracked concrete toward the parking lot. Halfway there, I saw a few kids clustered near the edge of the school fence. They weren't just randoms either. They were Losers. Capital L. The Losers Club. Beverly Marsh and the fat kid. I could never remember his name. I think it started with a B. Barry? Benny? I wasn't betting money on it but it was probably Barry. 

That wasn't good. If they were talking, then that could mean that Georgie was already missing and Pennywise was on the loose and his cycle was starting again. 

Fantastic.

My stomach dropped a little. I may be 18 but I somehow feel like that didn't exactly take me off the menu for that Psycho Space Clown. Hopefully I wouldn't have to actually deal with any of that and the Losers could send that bitch back to sleep for the next 27 years. 

I picked up the pace and didn't look back. I had no interest in joining the little misfit horror squad. My plan was simple. Get in my car, drive home and lock myself in my room and come up with a plan that made me rich enough that I can spend the rest of my life sipping margaritas on a Caribbean island, hell I'd even be neighbours with Jeffy if it meant I'd be safe from all the monsters in this world. 

As I headed into the parking lot with the rest of the cars I heard the loud obnoxious sound of a car engine and a bunch of guys whooping. As I looked closer I saw get another thing today that made me want to put my head on the train tracks. 

Henry Bowers and his gang of delinquents, they were doing donuts in the parking lot right before they sped off. 

Henry had never given me any grief at school, he was a year younger than me and I was the quarterback of the damn football team. If he had even tried to do anything he would've had a bunch of muscle bound freaks tearing him apart. Though from what I knew now about him, I should probably call the police. Kid was a damn psycho. I mean sure his father was extremely abusive, but carving your name into Barry's belly... that was some future serial killer shit, and I think there were more than enough serial killers around at the moment.

I reached my car and felt a little better immediately.

A 1967 Ford Mustang. Dark paint. White lines. A damn nice car. The kind of car that I would never have been able to own in forty years of working back in my last life. I unlocked it and pulled the door open.

That was when I heard raised voices a few rows over.

I hesitated, keys still in my hand, and glanced in that direction. Two people were standing near an old sedan. A girl and a guy. The guy I recognised from art class. Gary? Gavin? Geoff? I don't know, but he was Tall. Skinny. Always barefoot in summer. Always talking about freedom and vibes and how society was holding him back, but most of all perpetually stunk of weed. 

The girl I did not recognise, but she was hard to miss.

She had dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and sharp blue eyes that looked like they were used to glaring at people. She was wearing tight jeans, a fitted top, and a leather jacket that looked like it had seen some miles. Her posture was rigid, like she was holding herself together through sheer anger.

"Don't you sit there and act like this is on me," she said with a southern drawl. "You been sleepin' around all over town, and now you wanna act shocked I'm mad about it."

The guy lifted his hands like he was calming a wild animal. "Vicki, listen, it's not like that. Love isn't ownership. We're just exploring connections. You know, spiritually."

She let out a short laugh. "Spiritually my ass. You slept with three girls in one week."

"They were experiences," he said. "We're young. We're free."

I felt my soul leave my body a little.

"Lord give me strength," she said. "You really hear yourself right now?"

He sighed like he was the one suffering. "Just calm down. I'll drive you home, okay?"

I started to edge toward my car door, hoping to slip in and vanish without being noticed. I was halfway inside when the argument abruptly stopped.

I looked up.

The girl had turned and was staring directly at me.

"You," she said.

Me... Of course.

"Uh," I said intelligently.

"You got a car," she said. "You're gonna take me home."

I blinked. "I am?"

The art guy scoffed. "Come on, Vicki, don't be so dramatic, you don't know this guy."

She turned back to him slowly. "Say one more thing. I dare you."

He rolled his eyes. "Uhhhhhh! You're such bitch sometimes, you know that?"

She punched him.

Not a slap. Not a shove. A full-on punch straight to the face.

He stumbled back with a yelp and nearly tripped over his own feet. He clutched his nose and stared at her like she had just violated the Geneva Convention, and to be honest with the way blood squirted out of his nose she just might have. 

"Crazy bitch," he cried out, already backing away. Then he turned and ran.

I stood there frozen for a second.

Shit.

I really did not want to get involved in this.

She turned back to me, breathing a little hard, then smoothed her jacket like nothing had happened. "So. You takin' me home or what?"

I put on a smile. A polite one. A safe one. A smile that you couldn't possible want to punch in the face. "Yeah. Sure. Hop in."

I could not remember her ever being in any horror films so she should be safe. Plus it's the eighties so men are still expected to be a gentleman to a woman which means giving them rides when they need them. Not that I was a drop kicking a woman down the stairs equal rights opportunist in my past life. Eh whatever, she was pretty hot and I was a sucker for a pretty face. 

She climbed into the passenger seat while I got behind the wheel. I started the engine and pulled out of the parking space. As we rolled toward the exit, I glanced over at her. "So, uh, where am I taking you?"

She gave me an address. I nodded and turned onto the road. The silence that followed after that was a little awkward.

"I don't think I've seen you around before," I said after a moment.

"That's probably 'cause I ain't been around," she replied. "Dropped out last year."

"Oh," I said. "That explains it."

She glanced at me. "Name's Vicki. Vicki Vallencourt."

"James," I said. "James Mitchell."

Vicki looked thoughtful for a moment before her eyes widened. "Is Arthur Mitchell your daddy?" She asked. 

I nodded. "Yeah that's right," I replied. 

Vicki made a little high pitched sound before she grabbed my arm. "Heavens! I knew I recognised that name, your daddy works at the church right?" She asked. 

I nodded again. "Yeah he does some volunteer work there sometimes." Now that I thought about it my dad did an amazing job of hiding the fact he was a serial killer. His work with the various charities and his work in the church, everyone knew him as an all around great guy. If it wasn't for his business trips he took every year I would've thought I was wrong about them being the same person. 

"Ahh knew it! I musta seen you there, you're pretty hard to miss," she said adding a little giggle to her words as she leaned over. 

I laughed a little nervously. "So, Vicki Vallencourt, you said hou droppped out, so... do you hang out at schools for fun?"

She laughed, a short giggle that seemed to bleed off some of her anger. "My boyfriend went here. Well, ex-boyfriend. Clearly."

"That guy?"

"Unfortunately," she said. "Thinks he's some kinda free spirit. More like a free asshole."

"I swear to God," she said, leaning back in the seat and crossing her arms, "that boy thinks puttin' on a damn headband makes him enlightened."

I glanced at her and chuckled. "We have a few of those at my school." Despite America's best efforts the hippie movement had only grown and even now we had quite a few of them in Derry. 

"He's always talkin' about energy," she went on. "Like, 'Vicki, you gotta let the universe flow.' What universe, honey. You live in a one bedroom apartment with your unemployed parents."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing and kept my eyes on the road.

"And don't get me started on the music," she said. "Won't shut up about folk records. Keeps tryin' to play that sitar and banjo crap while lightin' incense like he's summonin' somethin'. But despite that he still stinks."

"That sounds rough," I said.

"Oh it is," she replied. "I reckon I shoulda known better when he said monogamy was a social construct. That was my first red flag. Second red flag was him sayin' he used to see auras."

"Used to?"

She waved a hand. "Before the government poisoned his pineal gland or some nonsense."

What the fuck was she doing with this guy? He sounded like a nightmare. 

"And then today," she continued, "I find out he's been sleepin' around and he's got the nerve to tell me it's about personal growth. Personal growth my ass. You wanna grow personally, you might could start by taking a damn shower."She sighed and shook her head. "Mama warned me about boys like him. Said they talk pretty and leave ugly. I didn't listen, I was too damn busy tryna piss her off."

Silence settled in again for a few seconds as she breathed out a sigh and looked out the window. 

"Sorry," she said after a moment. "I ain't usually this mouthy."

"You're fine," I said. "Honestly, this is the most normal conversation I've had all day."

She laughed softly. "Well ain't that somethin'."

We drove on, the streetlights starting to flicker on as the town slid by. She tapped her fingers against her knee, calmer now, the anger gone from her voice. "Thanks for stoppin' back there," she said. "Most folks woulda pretended they didn't see nothin'."

"I thought about it," I admitted. "Briefly."

She smiled at that. "Well, I appreciate it, sugar."

We drove in comfortable quiet for a minute or two,. Then Vicki shifted in her seat. "So, James Mitchell," she drawled teasingly, "what's a boy like you do when you're not playin' knight in shinin' armor?"

I kept my eyes on the road. "Not much. School, mostly. Though I play a little football, I'm the Quarterback for the team."

"Mmm." She made a low, appreciative sound. "Quarterback. Figures. Bet you're real good with your hands, huh?"

Her seatbelt clicked open. I glanced over a little and saw her unbuckle it slowly. She turned sideways, one knee pulled up on the seat and her body angled toward me. Her jacket fell open a little, her shirt was clinging to her curves snd showing an impressive set of fits under them.

She smiled wickedly as she saw me look, her blue eyes locked on my profile. "Bet all the girls chase after you, Quarterback and all."

I swallowed, forcing my gaze back to the windshield. "Some... I mostly focus on the game."

"Some?" She laughed softly. Her fingers brushed the hem of her shirt, tugging it down just enough to show a lot more her breasts than she was before. "Come on, sugar. Tall, strong, that jawline... you tellin' me you don't have 'em lined up?"

Her hand drifted to my thigh, brushing it lightly at first, just resting there. Heat still shot straight through me. I gripped the wheel harder making my knuckles go white.

"Vicki—"

"Shh." She leaned closer, hair brushing my shoulder, her lips near my ear. Her fingers traced slow circles on my thigh before inching higher. "Eyes on the road, quarterback. Wouldn't want you to crash."

My pulse hammered. The road blurred for a second as her hand slid up and her palm pressed against the growing strain in my jeans. She squeezed gently, and let out a soft hum like she'd found exactly what she expected. "Feels like you're real focused," she whispered, her breath hot against my neck. Her thumb stroked over the zipper teasingly. 

I exhaled and accidentally let the car swerve slightly.  

"Jesus, Vicki—"

"What'd you think I was gonna do, James?" she murmured innocenctly as her fingers brushed the button on my jeans. "Just saw a little somethin' on your pants and figured I'd brush it off for you."

"Right," I managed, voice cracking like a damn freshman as I tried to steady the wheel and my breathing at the same time.

She leaned in again, hair spilling over my shoulder, lips brushing my ear. "I ain't that kinda girl, sugar..."

"I didn't think—"

"Not without you buyin' me dinner first, anyway."

I barked out a laugh, shaking my head, the tension snapping into something lighter even while my blood was still pounding south.

The rest of the drive passed with her hand back in safer territory, aka my knee, and her laughing every time I had to adjust myself. We rolled out toward the edge of town, past the nicer houses and into the part where the sidewalks were cracked and the streetlights were farther apart. Her place was a small single-story with peeling paint, chain-link fence, and a couple junked cars out front.

"We're here," I said, pulling up to the curb.

Vicki turned to me and smiled. "Thanks for the ride, quarterback." Though instead of getting out her door, she slid over the console, swung her leg across my lap, and settled her full weight onto me, straddling my thighs with her knees pressing into the seat on either side of my hips. 

The heat of her pussy came through her jeans and mine right away, pressing down firmly against the thick ridge of my cock where it strained against my pants. She cupped my jaw with both hands then leaned in and kissed me hard. Her lips parted mine immediately, opening wide so she could push her tongue straight into my mouth. She licked deeply, sliding her tongue along the length of mine, then curled it against the roof of my mouth before thrusting again. 

I tasted the faint sweetness of cherry ChapStick on her, mixed with her saliva as she kept kissing me open-mouthed and sloppy. She rocked her hips forward once, grinding her crotch down onto my erection so the seam of her jeans rubbed directly over the head of my cock through the denim. The pressure made my balls tighten and my shaft throb harder. She moaned into my mouth, the sound vibrating against my lips while she sucked on my tongue, pulling it between hers and stroking it with a firm suction. 

Her breasts pushed against my chest, her nipples stiff enough that I could feel the hard points through both our shirts. She tilted her head to change the angle, sealed her lips tighter around mine, and fucked my mouth with slow thrusts of her tongue while her fingers slid up into my hair and gripped hard at the back of my skull. She kept rolling her hips in short circles, dragging her pussy over my cock again and again until the friction had me leaking precum into my boxers. When she finally pulled back, her lips were swollen and slick with spit, her breathing fast, and she looked straight into my eyes with that same wicked smile.

"See you around, James," she said. Then she climbed off me, opened the door, stepped out onto the gravel, and shut it behind her.

I sat there a second my jeans feeling painfully tight and my heart hammering like a drum, but despite that a massive was on my face. Sure I was horny as hell, yeah, but damn she hot as sin and seemed a decent sort as well, at least she seemed like it. Honestly if it's between her and the psycho girls in my school then I'll take her out right now. 

After adjusted myself I started the Mustang, and headed home. I was feeling a little better about the day as well, sure there are some big horrors out there, some that could kill me, eat me, rape me, or all three. But that also means that the heroes of those movies are real too. 

I have nothing to worry about. 

I came into my driveway around half an hour later and took a deep breath. I then opened my car and plastered a big smile on my face. I'd give my family a chance, they deserved that much. 

As I walked towards the door I looked up and saw Esther, my adopted sister waiting by the window in her room. She was looking down at me with a small smile on her face, she then lifted up her hand and waved. 

Okay... I'm fucked

(AN: So any water boy fans here? It's a great film tbh and Vicki was a huge crush of mine when I was younger. Anyway I'm not too sure about who the permanent girl is going to be, but I'll figure it out. Just expect a lot of sex regardless. He may seem a little whiny now but once he adjusts and gets his shining under control he'll accept his new life. Hope you enjoyed.)