Bingo was His Name-o

Bingo was His Name-o

Status: Finished

Genre: Horror

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Horror

Summary

*WARNING* please take note that there are scenes with a delicate nature so if you do not like violence or implied rape then DO NOT read this short story. thank you! This is another short story for KM2's competition. I loved writing this just as much as the last one. Max just loves brown eyes, wouldn't anybody with that warmth shining through to keep you nice and toasty on a cold night? Then again, he also has a great fondness for the fear that can easily been seen in those same brown eyes. Max just loves to feel and see what his clowns and dolls can't show him.

Summary

*WARNING* please take note that there are scenes with a delicate nature so if you do not like violence or implied rape then DO NOT read this short story. thank you!

This is another short story for KM2's competition. I loved writing this just as much as the last one.

Max just loves brown eyes, wouldn't anybody with that warmth shining through to keep you nice and toasty on a cold night? Then again, he also has a great fondness for the fear that can easily been seen in those same brown eyes.
Max just loves to feel and see what his clowns and dolls can't show him.

Content

Submitted: July 09, 2013

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: July 09, 2013

A A A

A A A


And Bingo was his name-o.

 

The whining echoed around the forest whilst the boy hummed a lullaby in the back of his throat. His mousy brown hair that was usually brushed to the side was blowing in the wind as it circulated around the two sitting on the leaf strewn grass.

His body was hunched over his work, his little plaything, and if someone happened to walk by they wouldn’t actually be able to see how much fun he was having with his new friend.

They wouldn’t see the butcher’s knife in his right hand that he had borrowed from his mummy’s kitchen draw. Nor would they see how he stroked the knife through the fluffy fur of the puppy that his daddy had brought him as an apology whilst he ran off with his new, younger fancy piece.

“It’s going to be okay, you’ll be fine,” the boy cooed lovingly to the speckled brown puppy that had the whites of its eyes showing, almost knowing that something wasn’t quite right with the human that he had been given to.

“I just want to see,” the violet eyes of the child locked onto those of the puppy as he raised the knife slightly and plunged it into the belly of the dog, ripping through skin tissue, muscles and squirting blood over his hand.

The scream of the pup echoed around the forest, bouncing from tree to tree and then being whipped into the air, surrounding the child and pounding upon his eardrums.

The boy marvelled in it.

He had never heard such a sound before and as the feeling of wonderment travelled through his body, his mind and his very soul, he dragged the knife through the belly of the puppy, allowing the blood to cascade like a waterfall as he kept his eyes on the lifeless ones in front him.

“That’s alright, I can always get a new one,” the boy whispered to the toy in front of him and he then began to pull on the skin as he scraped the knife through the flesh, turning it inside out.

All the while he never really stopped humming the lullaby.

There was a farmer who had a dog,

And Bingo was his name-o.

B-I-N-G-O!

B-I-N-G-O!

B-I-N-G-O!

And Bingo was his name-o.

 

*******

 

Turning up the volume on the television set, the young man sat forward in his seat as he waited in anticipation for what was to come.

“Yo, Max, you want a beer?” another man shouted from the kitchen as the one on the couch, Max, scowled in his direction for the interruption. Instead of answering he turned the volume up more, blocking all sounds around him as he turned his full attention to the blonde chattering away on the T.V.

“An actor, who recently just signed a new contract, was found dead in his home in the early hours of this morning. So far no specifics have been released on the details of his murder but it is believed to be in relation to the serial killings that have taken place in the neighbourhood in the last seven months,” the news reporter never removed her eyes from the screen and Max felt a thrill run through him as he watched the fear flash through her pale grey eyes.

“Max!” a voice hollered behind him causing him to jump and spin around to stare into the chocolate brown eyes of his friend.

“What?” he said in return as he shouted over the voice talking through the speakers.

His friend was such a fine looking man, with muscles in all the right places and such plump red kissable lips. Of course as soon as Max had these thoughts, these feelings, he knew what that meant. He knew beyond all doubt that he needed to move out, needed to find a new flat mate because he couldn’t be having constant thoughts like this around his friend.

He needed to go shopping.

Again!

“You want a beer?” James asked as he held out his hand with a beer dangling from his fingertips, the condensation dripping onto his meaty fingers, reminding Max of different things.

Clearing his throat Max turned away from his friend, noticing on the news that the woman had stopped speaking and it had moved onto the weather. He sighed internally as he thought about all the little snippets of information he had just missed.

“Nah man, I’ve to go to work soon,” Max mumbled as he plucked at a thread on his loose jeans. Why couldn’t James just leave him be for one day? What would it take to have some God Damn peace and quiet?

B-I-N-G-O.

He knew that he would be clearing out the keep for the monkeys and he really wasn’t looking forward to having more shit thrown at him so that it clung to his hair and was unable to wash out. He really didn’t want to have to deal with the mundane of normal life and already he wished he had more freedom to walk and go on adventures.

B-I-N-G-O.

“Dude, if you start singing that song out loud again I’m going to suffocate you in your sleep,” James snapped as he plopped down in the seat next to Max.

A small smile started on Max’s lips and he turned his head slowly to face his charming friend. James was staring at him in return; a nice smile relaxed his features as his brown eyes sparkled with merriment. Those eyes so reminded Max of a puppy he once had, the brown so lovely and warm that Max wanted to roll around in the warmth of him.

 He refrained himself from doing so of course.

“I doubt you would be able to suffocate me Jamie, you won’t even enter my bedroom,” Max smirked and then giggled, unable to control himself. He loved the warmth draining from those eyes as a flash of fear turned his smile down at the corners of his luscious mouth. He treasured the light leaving James’ face as he watched him begin to fidget and run his hand through his messy brown mop of hair.

Oh yes, he loved the fear more than the warmth and that, well that, Max wanted to paint all over his bulky frame.

“Yeah well, if you got rid of all those fucking clowns then maybe I’d enter your room more often,” James muttered and then popped the cap from the beer and chugged down half.

Max watched enthralled as the beer slid down his friends’ throat, curious by how the Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as James swallowed one gulp after another.

Oh yes, it was most certainly time to go shopping.

Max stood up instantly and with a hasty wave over his shoulder, he left the room and dashed to his own sanctuary where clowns and dolls watched him with their glass eyes and painted on smiles.

 

******

“Come on mummy, please can I have it?” a voice whined from the counter and Max slammed his mop back into his bucket, sloshing water over the sides and watching as the bubbles dripped down the container.

“No!” a sharp voice snapped in return and Max stood straight, his back ram rod perfect as his head twisted to the left and looked around the corner of the aisle he was in just to see the people at the till. Max should have been working in the monkeys keep, but as one of the fat little shits had thrown poo in his eye, he had had to leave and clean up the shop floor.

Not that he minded of course, he loved a bit of shopping.

Two people stood at the counter, one small and holding onto the huge hand of his mother, who was paying for a lion teddy and the other tall, she barked orders at the young woman behind the counter.

“But I want it!” the boy shrilled through the shop, his voice echoing all around them and seeping into Max’s skin. Max imagined what he would do with that voice, what he would give to do something with that skinny little throat.

“I said NO!” his mother thundered in return, her voice sounding just like her son’s but for the deeper tone to it.

There was a farmer who had a dog,

Max felt his lips stretching into a smile as the same song sounded through his head just as the boy kicked the counter, causing his mother to slap him around the head. The sharp stinging slap was followed by a bellow of rage from the small boy and Max smiled all the more as he watched the boy turn to his parent and kick her in the shin.

And Bingo was his name-o,

“You little shit,” the mother yelled in return and then clouted the boy so hard around the ear that he toppled over and hit Max’s nice clean and shiny floor.

B-I-N-G-O!

“You’re not getting the teddy now Liam,” the mother shouted over the top of the boys wailing. Max watched as the boy looked towards the ceiling, stretched his mouth wide and screamed so loud that the girl behind the counter covered her ears quickly to be rid of the stinging noise.

B-I-N-G-O!

Max stared, enraptured as he noticed how everyone in the shop clutched at their ears as though they were in pain, as though the noise was too much for them to stand. Even the mother had grasped at her own ears, frowning down at her own flesh and blood with such a look of hatred that Max was surprised he didn’t burst into flames there and then. 

B-I-N-G-O!

Max licked his own lips as he felt his heart skip a beat and then pound frantically in his chest as he watched the mother bend down and wrap her hand around the scrawny wrist of her son. Max clung to the shelf in front of him, excitement coursing through his very being, his very soul as he gazed upon the woman in the same wonderment that he had once gazed at a puppy.

As the woman stormed passed him, dragging the wailing child behind her, her eyes briefly paused on him and held his stare, before moving away quickly as though she didn’t want to be caught staring. In that brief moment, Max had caught a glimpse of the warmest brown eyes that he had ever laid eyes on.

And Bingo was his name-o.

Max threw the mop out of his hand and without turning around, without telling the girl behind the counter where he was going, Max left the shop. Following behind the unsuspecting woman scalding her child for acting like such a nuisance.

His shopping was done.

 

******

The bright red nose plugged into the woman’s mouth worked perfectly to stop the noises from leaving her lips and penetrating the basement that Max had dragged her into. Her brown eyes stared up into Max’s violet ones, wide with fear and wet with tears. Her cheeks blossomed a bright red so warm and inviting that Max couldn’t help but stroke his fingers down her skin.

Snot trailed from her nose and landed onto the red gag in her mouth and Max felt a chuckle rumble up from the pit of his belly.

“It’s okay you know, I’ve done this before,” Max smiled at the woman and then slapped her across the cheek sharply just to watch more red bloom on her skin. Max saw the woman’s teeth sink further into the red nose of the clown costume he had been wearing and giggled a giggle so high pitched that he could have been mistaken as a child.

Of course, once people took in his height and his sheer size, people could never mistake that childlike giggle for an innocent sound again.

Her hands sat on her chest with rope wrapped so tight around the wrist that they were beginning to turn a funny shade of purple. Max loved that colour just as much as the brown that he loved to see peeking through people’s eyes.

Max had adored the red that had blossomed across her thighs as he slapped her skin and thrust into her twice before his completion. As she had screamed, “rapist”, at the top of her lungs he had plucked the bright red nose from his own face and shoved it into her mouth, effectively cutting off her screams as he growled out his own noises from his accomplishment. 

That had happened before he had removed the costume, a small pocket sat over the top of his penis so all he had to do was pluck the little flap open and thrust it into her. He had enjoyed it immensely as she had struggled beneath him, putting up much more of a fight than the puppy had.

Putting up much more of a fight than the actor had, and more than all the others had since his release from Stanley Asylum. He had managed to convince the doctors that he wasn’t Asylum material, especially as he was nothing like the kid that they kept strapped to the bed in room 103.

Now that child was a strange one.

Removing himself from her body he had cut open her nightgown, surprisingly old fashioned for the type of woman she had appeared to be, and removed his own costume piece by piece.  Both sat naked on the floor, Max with his legs crossed and with the woman draped over him.

She sobbed as she begged him with those chocolate brown eyes not to hurt her; Max could see it plainly and couldn’t give a damn. He wanted to see more of the fear that she had displayed for him when he had shown compassion to her body.

There was a farmer who had a dog,

The knife that he had taken from his mother’s draw that one time fit into his grasp perfectly now that his body had grown from the child he once was.

And Bingo was his name-o.

As Max watched the woman beneath him begin to shake and quake with fear he felt his erection grow bigger as exhilaration once more surged through his veins like liquid ecstasy.

B-I-N-G-O!

The knife slowly tore through her skin as her back arched upwards, almost as in offering to him. Her head pushed back, exposing that lovely pale throat so Max could bend a little and place a gentle kiss upon her flushed skin.

B-I-N-G-O!

The knife was all the way in now, the hilt resting on her exposed belly as blood trickled from the slit that his sharpened knife had made. Max couldn’t help but marvel at the sight as he remembered the incident of the actor who had screamed so loudly it had echoed in his ears for a few days.

Then James had come along and ruined it!

B-I-N-G-O!

Quickly pushing thoughts of his friend aside, Max ripped the knife from her belly and watched as her body slumped back to the floor, blood now gushing from the open wound and whimpers leaving her mouth, giving him flashbacks of a brown eyed puppy that he had loved with all of his heart.

He plunged the knife back in, faster this time and he couldn’t help that little giggle leaving his lips as he listened to the squelching sound of the knife sinking through her skin.

And Bingo was his name-o.

Max felt happiness blooming inside him as he gazed into the brown eyes of the woman that now looked up with eyes that reflected nothing but him, reminding him of all those dolls in his sanctuary that stared with the same lifeless glassy eyes.

Max couldn’t wait to peel her skin away from her belly just as he had done to the puppy and the others, and then return to James.

 

******

Max was crying. Tears of frustration streamed down his painted white cheeks, smearing the paint as he tried to hastily wipe them away. The bright red nose that he usually put back onto his own face after visiting someone was in his bloody left hand as his right grasped the handle of his mother’s knife.

“Why James?” he begged to the corpse at his feet, “why did you have to do it?” he asked as he looked down at the body.

James had been hunting around Max’s bedroom when he had returned, although he had lied about that as he was supposed to be staying at his girlfriend’s house. Max had reacted out of rage, the knife penetrating through his friends back, not once, not twice but three times before Max could even attempt to stop himself.

In James’ hand had been a necklace that he had taken from the actor’s house, and on the bed was the dog’s collar that he had removed from the cocker spaniel that the actor had owned. A box sat next to the collar with the other little trinkets he had removed from the other people’s houses.

“I had so many plans for you and me Jamie baby,” Max whispered as yet more tears fell from his eyes, “why did you have to go and make me do this now!”

Throwing the nose across the room in a fit of temper, Max threw himself on top of his once best friend and thrust the knife into his body over and over again as he screamed uselessly.

“How could you do this James?” he roared.

“I was going to take you, you would have been my first Jamie,” Max cried as his knife got stuck on some bone and he had to give it that extra tug to release it from the body.

“I would have made it last James,” Max stopped as he wiped the back of his hand across his face and smeared more white face paint onto the back of his hand so he rubbed it against the frilly purple spotted top that made up the top half of his clown costume.

Dropping the knife by the body of his friend, of his imagined lover, Max rose to his feet and moved his eyes from the body to the overly long, brown clown shoes that he had worn to seduce the woman in.

Maybe if he had just stayed at home then it would never have happened? Maybe if he had just stopped trying to seduce all those women and paid more attention to James and his needs then he could have prevented this from happening too soon.

Shaking his head and sighing, Max left the room to head into his en suite bathroom. Honestly, if he was thinking about the puppy then he was thinking about James, now he had nobody to think about.

Nobody to watch.

Max flicked on the bathroom light, the bulb flickering softly before it caught and then bloomed, encasing the room in a lovely golden glow. See, what would he do if the bulb went? Who’d change it?

He had waited to kill his last roommate until he found James, now that wasn’t going to happen this time. He sighed again as he walked over to the mirror and stared at his reflection. Bright violet eyes stared back at him with thick dark lashes. They shone because of the tears that had previously been shed, looking bright and alive. His hair stuck up from the top of his head, spray painted a deep purple to match the rest of his outfit.  

“Oh James,” he murmured softly as he took in his own appearance. The smile that he had painted on his skin, wide and stretched from ear to ear in dark purple lipstick, his mother’s actually, betrayed his disappointed feelings.

He would have to go shopping of a different kind in a couple of days, shopping for another housemate.

Looking down at the white sink Max began to wash the blood from his hands, not knowing if they belonged to the woman or to James, just knowing that he couldn’t let it linger or it would leave a lovely pink stain. As much as he didn’t mind, he didn’t think his co-workers would.

There was a farmer who had a dog,

Max smiled as the familiar song filled his head, resulting in him humming it out loud. Soothing his unsettled soul.

And Bingo was his name-o.

He scrubbed at the blood and the dirt beneath his fingers, imaging his next kill and where it would take him.

B-I-N-G-O!

The smile stretched wider as he realised that he could listen to the news and his accomplishments without any kind of interruption.

B-I-N-G-O!

A funny chill slid down Max’s spine as his body shook slightly, an odd feeling settling into the pit of his stomach and not really understanding what it was.

B-I-N-G-O!

He moved his hand slowly towards the tap, turning it clockwise to stop the running water. A prickling silence coated his skin, causing goose bumps to rise and another shudder to shake his body. A shuffling noise sounded from behind him and Max jolted his head up in surprise and stared into the mirror, catching brown eyes staring back at him from behind his body. A knife flashed in the corner of his eye before he felt a most unimaginable pain across his neck.

He watched as James and yet not James, pulled the knife away from his slashed throat and gazed at the blood that trickled from his open wound. Max couldn’t seem to catch a breath and each time he tried to talk a gurgle emanated from his mouth.

James’ thick arm wrapped around his own bulky chest, sliding across the silk clowns shirt that he was still wearing as he stepped nice and tight behind Max’s body. Max stared into the pale face of his friend with blue lips and dead glassy brown eyes and he knew that he was staring at the ghost of his friend, of his imagined lover.

He knew he was about to die and be taken to Hell with James where James would be the one singing, “and Bingo was his name-o,” just as James was the last one singing now.

 

******

Two women sat outside of a coffee shop, one drinking hot chocolate, the other drinking a scalding hot black coffee. They were having the most peculiar conversation, a conversation that was taking place all over the USA.

“Hey Melinda, did you watch the news this morning?” the one drinking the coffee asked as she flicked her red hair from her shoulder.

“Nope,” the other replied as she placed her head in her hand and leaned forward waiting for her friend to give her the gossip.

The redhead lapped the attention up greedily like a starved puppy, “you know the serial killer?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Melinda replied warily.

“Well, they found him,”

“What?” the hot chocolate drinker interrupted and the one with the coffee gave a small chuckle as she made a calm down gesture to her friend.

“Yep,” she took a sip of coffee, “he offed himself after killing his roommate. The cops found stuff that he had taken from those other killings.”

“Offed himself?”

The coffee drinker nodded as she took another sip of her warm beverage and then placed it back onto the table, “yeah, slit his own throat after repeatedly stabbing his roommate, not to mention that he had been caught walking out of a house just hours earlier wearing a clown costume.”

The other squeaked and then covered her mouth and looked around hastily to make sure nobody had heard her, “clown costume?” she whispered as though saying it any louder would produce said clown.

“Yep, sick bastard got what he deserved if you ask me," she scoffed, "not just satisfying yourself on killing people but being a rapist too,” the coffee drinker tutted then lifted her cup to her lips again.

Both girls sat silent as they pondered this new information.

“You know,” Melinda spoke, “I have the strangest nursery rhyme in my head.”

“Oh yeah, what is it?”

“There was a farmer who had a dog,

And Bingo was his name-o.

B-I-N-G-O!

B-I-N-G-O!

B-I-N-G-O!

And Bingo was his name-o,” Melinda sang.

Both girls shuddered.

 


© Copyright 2020 KathyLiD. All rights reserved.

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