Horror Sensation/HORROR.iso/stories/8.txt

Text File | 1980-11-27 | 8.3 KB | 164 lines

@ CLONES

# By Mr Dark (in 1992, apparently)


 Len smiled with distaste.
 Benjamin Walters and Andrew Norman had just pulled up chairs at
either side of him. They were staring down towards the front of the
school study hall with their mouths gaping open.
 "She's gotta be a queen sex god." Norman whispered, leaning onto
Len's desk and disrupting his concentration.
 Walters nodded. "Yeah. I'll be her king anytime."
 Len glanced up from his work. There was a new girl sat near the front
end of the hall - at a desk for two but she was on her own. She was
facing the left hand wall giving Len and his "friends" a profile view
of the right hand side of her face. She was quite contently reading a
text book, frequently taking down notes from it in a small jotter.
She was very attractive, there was no disputing the fact.
 "Ask her out." Walters whispered across to Norman, who wrenched his
stare away from the studying girl.
 "Huh?" he hissed, annoyed after having been distracted.
 "I said ask her out!"
 "You're fuckin' crazy." Norman said with out altering his blank
expression. "I'll settle for lookin' at her."
 "Wimpish bastard!" Walters chuckled and then observed how the girl
placed the lid of her pen thoughtfully between her lips and began to
tap her text book.
 Norman whispered, "I wish that pen was my cock."
 Len looked at him with eye brows raised, "Have you finished?"
 Walters gave him a hard shove, "Fuck you dick nose. We'll say what we
want, when we want. Right, Norm?"
 "Yeah." Norman whispered softly, still entranced.
 "NORMSKI!" Walters barked. "Hey!"
 "Oh what the hell is it now? I'm trying to fantisize here."
 "Bet you five quid you daren't ask her out."
 "Fuck you."
 "Tenner."
 "Fuck you sideways."
 "Alright, twenty, no higher."
 Norman hesitated, "You're crazy! What if she says no?"
 Walters giggled, "She won't say no, because you'll faint before you
get to her fuckin' desk!"
 He broke down into laughter but his humour was not shared by either
Norman or Len. Up ahead, the girl crossed her sun-tanned legs,
offering a micro-second glimpse of her white underwear.
 Norman gasped. "Did you SEE that?"
 Walters had missed the spectacle. "Huh? Whatcha say?"
 "I saw her knickers!"
 "Hey, would you guys mind going away?" Len said quite crossly. "I've
got a ton of work to do and I can't concentrate."
 "I'll ram my fist into your fucking brain if you don't shut up."
Walters threatened and glanced at Norman for his reaction. Norman
wasn't even listening. He was sat on his chair, gripping the desk in
front of him, obviously very deeply aroused.
 "Mother of God." he whispered. "I've seen the light..."
 "Please," Len closed his eyes and dropped his pen onto his exercise
book. "I really do have to-"
 "I said can-it shit straw," Walters thumped Len to the side of his
ribs. Len gritted his teeth but resisted fighting back. It wasn't worth
it. Over the years, he had figured out the entire social construction
of school bullies and creeps and weirdos. It was quite simple:
 If they fucked you, and you fucked them back, they assembled a gang of
their mates and fucked you up COMPLETELY.
 The best way to handle the dumb bastards was to ignore them. Again,
it was quite simple: Fuckers who laughed at fuckers fucking up poor
fuckers, WERE fuckers. Girls or boys. It made little difference.
 Len sighed, "You two are quite annoying."
 Walter laughed loudly and the girl glanced across at Len's desk. He
rolled his eyes at Norman and Walter and she smiled a little, keeping
her gaze for a few seconds, before continuing with her work.
 "She looked at me!" Norman hissed excitedly, "Did you see that?"
 Walters nodded, "I can't argue, dude. Go for it."
 Len shook his head and let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. These guys
were docile fat turkeys that thrived on nothing but wild, out-of-
proportion fantasies. He felt sorry for them.
 "Twenty quid still going?" Norman asked.
 Walters winced, "Ah-well, make it five."
 "Fuck you marmite head! You said fuckin' twenty!"
 "Ten. Ten if she says yes. Otherwise you owe ME ten." Walters held his
hand out across Len's work. Norman shook it.
 "Go for it, man!" Walters said and relaxed into his chair to watch
his friend.
 The girl noticed Norman clamber up out of his chair like a clumsy
ogre and wander his way hesitantly towards her. When at last he
reached her desk, he stopped briefly and took a deep breath.
 "Hi."
 The girl raised her head and smiled, "Hello."
 "I-er, my-er... names Norman-I mean, Andrew... Norman."
 "Pleased to meet you." the girl nodded slowly. "I'm Annette Bridges."
 "Nice name," Norman said and grinned pathetically. "Are you free
tonight?" he blushed furiously.
 "I'm studying, actually." Annette said. "Sorry."
 Norman clenched his fists, tight. "But..."
 "But what?"
 "I..." he glanced at Walters, who was laughing childishly and pointing
like a little toddler. Len wasn't taking much notice. He was carrying
on with his work as though nothing was happening.
 "I've got ten pounds resting on you'll say yes." Norman whispered.
 Annette glanced at the laughing boy. He stopped his giggles and
ducked under the table.
 "Yes." Annette grinned, "There - I said it. But no, I'm sorry I'm
working at the library tonight. You can come along if you really want
but I guess-"
 "The library?!" Norman exclaimed, "Libraries are shit! I wouldn't
dare be seen in a library!"
 "Right," she mused and waited for him to either spring up more
conversation or walk away.
 He tutted loudly.
 "Hey, I'm really sorry." Annette insisted.
 "Yeah, yeah." Norman kicked her table and her pen dropped to the
floor. She watched with utter disgust as he began to dribble it across
the study hall before finally kicking it behind one of the radiators
at the far end.
 Len stood up from his desk, "Excuse me." he said and passed a
red-faced, pissed off Norman on his way to the radiator. He ducked
down, searched around on the dusty floor for Annette's pen, found it
then stood up. He walked all the way across the hall to the girl's
desk, smiling at her as he approached. She watched him, biting her
bottom lip to supress a broad grin.
 "There you go." he handed it to her. She said thanks. "Studying
Chemistry?" Len asked, glancing at her books.
 She nodded. "Yeah. You?"
 "A little. It's rock hard. I can't seem to figure it."
 Annette shrugged, "Maybe I could help."
 "Maybe." Len smiled. "What's your name?"
 "Annette Bridges."
 "I'm Leonard Briggs. Horrid name, I know. Just call me Len."
 "Len." Annette grinned, "That's good. Call me Ann."
 "Ok." They laughed a bit.
 She glanced at the two wide-eyed spectators at the rear of the hall.
 "I think your friends have an attitude problem."
 Len peered at them, nodding, "No friends of mine. Or yours I guess."
 "No way. Listen," she attracted his attention and he faced her again.
She avoided his eyes constantly, maybe because she found him
attractive, or maybe just because she was a little nervous. What ever
the reason, it caused Len to crease out yet another large smile.
 "I'm studying at the library in town tonight. Maybe you'd like to come
along, you know just..." she looked up. He was grinning. "What? Am I
blabbering?"
 "No. I'll meet you there."
 "You will?" she brightened up a bit. "Fine. Great."
 "Nice meeting you. See ya." Len said and began to walk away.
 "What time?" she called after him. "Six?"
 "Six is fine. Bye."
 "Bye." she watched him until he had seated himself down on his desk
and then she continued with her work in higher spirits.

 Before the end of school, Walters and Norman reported the news of Len
"Wimpy shit" Briggs' itimate confrontation with the "New Fit Blonde
with the Big Tits" and arranged to beat the living shit out of him.
 Of course, they ganged up on him - eleven to one - and made sure he
was cornered in a dull bricked up cul-de-sac before they made their
attack.
 And as usual, they used their fair share of threats and insults,
mainly relating to Len's physical size and his rather unusual name.
They made fun of his hair-style, his school uniform and his shoes too,
simply because they couldn't find anything else to take the piss out
of. But it was Len's words that drove them into bashing him up.
 "Clones," he said to them and, even though he was very frightened, he
laughed a little. "You're all Clones. Worthless Clones."
 Len didn't meet Annette that evening. He had to make a detour
somewhere else: hospital.