The Final Piece

  ​

Then…

Sweat.
Panting.
Orgasm.
Again.
And again.
And again…​

Now…

The noise from the neighboring apartment woke him up. He opened his eyes, muttered a silent curse toward the ceiling, and dragged himself out of bed. With great effort, he shuffled to the bathroom to splash water on his face. He looked in the mirror: tired eyes, a few days' worth of stubble, and hair that looked like it had been hit by a hurricane.

He walked to the door and peeked through the peephole. A beautiful redhead was struggling with some boxes left in the hallway.

He dressed, freshened up, and combed his hair at record speed. In this old building filled with elderly tenants, the young woman, like himself, seemed completely out of place. He returned to the door, watching through the peephole as she moved. Then, he stepped outside.

“Good morning,” he said with a smile.

The woman looked at him for a moment, smiled back, and replied, “Good morning.”

An awkward silence followed as they both searched for something to say. He was the first to speak.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m really glad to see someone my age here. Everyone else in this building remembers the pyramids under construction.”
She burst out laughing. “Why would I take that the wrong way?”

Another pause. Awkward silence.

“My name’s Orion,” he said.
“Artemis,” she replied curtly, bending down to pick up a box.
“Sorry, that was rude of me,” Orion said. “Want some help?”
“The best offer I’ve had all day,” she said with a dazzling smile that made his heart leap out of his chest.

Then…

“You lost,” he said to her.
“I lost,” she admitted.
“Alright, what are you waiting for?” he asked her.

The girl sighed for a moment and then slowly began to take off her blouse. Underneath, she was wearing only a bra that struggled to cover her heavy, firm breasts. The young man sighed in turn. He felt his cock swelling beneath his underwear.

“And the pants,” he commanded her.

The girl obeyed, took off her pants, and was left only in her thong and bra. She looked at him pleadingly.
“A bet is a bet,” he replied, approaching her.

He gently ran his hand over her breasts. The girl felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment and her pussy getting wet.

“Well, well, looks like we have a response,” the young man said, putting his hand under her bra and squeezing her breast hard, or at least as much as would fit in his palm.

The girl closed her eyes and said nothing. The young man took off her bra and stood there looking at her. Then he started squeezing her heavy breasts with both hands, and this continued for about five minutes. His cock was about to burst. He took her hand and placed it on his shorts.

“Hey, what are you doing?” the girl started to protest, but the sensation of his swollen cock in her hands paralyzed her.

The drink had made her heavy and paralyzed her defenses. Only her embarrassment remained, and even that began to fade. She knelt down, pulled down his shorts and underwear, and stroked him with her hands.

The young man grabbed his cock and pressed it against her lips. The girl stopped and looked at him, saying, “No.”
“Come on, you've done it before,” he said.

The girl seemed to wake up a bit. “The bet was for you to see and touch my breasts. You're way out the line!”
The young man stopped. He knelt beside her and put his hand inside her thong. The girl struggled a bit, though not giving a real fight. “Your pussy says otherwise,” he said. “You're dripping...” he added.
“It's wrong...” the girl tried to protest, but her protest was silenced as the young man, who had stood up, pressed his cock against her mouth.

Reluctantly, the girl began to suck him.
“Come on, show more enthusiasm,” he told her and thrust deep into her.

The girl felt like gagging, but the young man didn't let her catch her breath. Finally, he sat on a couch and made her kneel in front of him.

“Suck me at your own pace,” he told her.

The girl, resigned, took him into her mouth and began.

I don't want any rushing,” he told her. “Do it properly.”

She obeyed, and before taking him back into her mouth, she played with the head of his cock, licked his balls, and took the head back into her mouth. She played with it with her tongue until the young man couldn't take it anymore and thrust it deep into her throat.

The young man stood up and squeezed both of her breasts. The girl, with her right hand, grabbed the base of his cock and played with it while moving her mouth up and down. With her left hand, she played with her clit.

He grabbed her by the hair, held her still, and came inside her mouth. The girl felt his cock pulsing and a stream of hot semen shooting into her mouth.

“Let some of it drip and swallow the rest,” he commanded her.

She obeyed.​

Now…

Orion stared at her intently. “Damn, is she eating ice cream or giving a blowjob?”

“A penny for your thoughts,” she asked, though Orion would’ve gladly offered a hundred euros.
“Sorry, I spaced out,” Artemis replied. “It happens when I enjoy something.”
“I told you,” he said. “It might mainly be a crêperie, but their ice cream is amazing.”
“What do people do for fun around here?” she asked.
“It’s a student town; you just have to pick a spot.”
“Well, to pick one, I need to see them first,” she said, tossing the ball into his court.
“And what do you think I’m here for?” he replied, catching her figurative ball.
“Alright,” she said with a smile that spoke volumes. “By the way, I forgot to ask—why did you choose the natural history museum to live in?”

He looked at her, puzzled.

“I mean that big, old building full of fossils,” she clarified, and Orion burst out laughing.
“Probably for the same reason you chose it: it’s quiet and has cheap rent.”
“I picked it for the cheap rent,” she said. “Unfortunately, instead of being a Rockefeller, my dad’s more like a rock-head.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing,” she said. “Just that my dad’s a broke-ass rocker who couldn’t get his act together but thought having a kid was a great idea.”
“Maybe you’re being a bit harsh?” he suggested.
“Not at all,” she assured him. “The first thing I did when I turned 18 was get out of there.”
“For college, I assume?” he asked.
“No, I went to live with my brother. He supported me, while I was studying for my entrance exams. Though I was over 18, he didn't even let me get a part time job to help.” She paused briefly before asking, “What were your childhood years like?”
“Lonely,” he said. “My dad’s a sailor, so I rarely see him. My mom’s a bit of a closed-off person, and I guess I take after her. No siblings, either, so you get the picture. Do you have any other siblings?”

As Artemis was about to answer, Orion's phone rang.

“Excuse me, just a second,” he said. He spoke briefly with a classmate about enrollment issues before hanging up. Turning back to Artemis, he said, “Where were we?”
“Our childhoods,” she replied smoothly.
“Ah, right,” he began. ‘You were saying something about your brother—”
“Orion, sorry to cut you off, but I have to get back to the apartment,” she interrupted, her tone bright but firm. “I’ve got some unpacking to do before I leave this afternoon.”
“You’re leaving already?” he asked, with a hint of desperation.
“Yeah, I need to go to Athens to grab some more stuff. As you can see, my tiny Fiat doesn’t exactly fit much.”
"What stuff?" he asked, then immediately regretted prying. "Sorry, didn't mean to intrude."
“If I told you I would have to kill you,” she replied smirking.
“Then I don’t want to know,” he replied, chuckling somewhat nervously, as if unsure if she was joking. She smiled, and he found himself relaxing a bit. “As they say, sometimes ignorance is a bliss.”
“Sometimes…” she murmured rather to herself. “The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far,” she replied enigmatically looking Orion intensely, her gaze holding his until he found himself lowering his eyes after a few moments.
“Wow!” he said, his voice a little too loud as he tried to dispel the sudden, inexplicable unease creeping over him. “Are you into Cthulhu Mythology?”
“I’m into many things, but for the time being I really need to get going, I don’t like driving in late night.”
“Alright,” he said, finally relaxed, pulling out his wallet. “The ice cream’s on me.”
“Thanks a lot,” she said, smiling without any unnecessary theatrics.

That afternoon, she knocked on his door. He opened it, and she entered with confidence.

“So, I’m heading to Athens. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
“Great,” Orion replied. “I’ll help you unpack when you’re back.”
“Thanks so much,” she said with a sweet smile. She leaned in and gave him a light kiss on the lips, catching him completely off guard. “Thanks for everything. See you tomorrow night.”

She walked out of his apartment, closing the door behind her, leaving Orion standing there, utterly frozen.

Then…

The girl let a bit of the semen drip from her mouth and swallowed the rest, looking him straight in the eyes. Those green eyes, that unshaven face from a few days ago, she would never forget them in her life.

The young man squeezed her breasts hard and pinched her stiffened nipples. He lifted her from the floor and made her sit on top of him. He caressed her face for a moment and then continued to squeeze her breasts. He took her right nipple into his mouth and started sucking it while vigorously kneading her right breast with his right hand. The girl moaned, and he felt his cock hardening again. As the girl sat with her legs open on top of him, he put his hand under her thong and started rubbing her clit. The girl moaned even louder.

He inserted his middle finger into her pussy. He felt resistance. He stopped and ordered her to stand up and take off her panties. The girl obeyed. He made her spread her legs and tried to insert his middle finger again. He felt resistance again and squatted down to look carefully.

“Are you a virgin?” he asked her with obvious surprise.
“What did you think?” she replied.
“Judging by your skill at sucking, I thought you'd been with quite a few guys.”
“This was my first time also,” she told him.
“Aaaa, here we have a natural!” he said mockingly.
“Fuck you!” she said, trying to leave.
“That's exactly what I'm going to do,” he told her and slapped her pussy.
“Leave me alone,” she said angrily.
“Come on, don't make this difficult now,” he replied.
“Leave me alone,” she said more angry.
The slap he gave her made her face turn.
“Stop resisting, bitch!”

The girl froze and the only thing she could do was rub her cheek. The young man slapped her pussy again, and despite her anger, the girl felt her body paralyzed with lust.

He took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. He made her sit on the bed and ordered her to wait. He went somewhere and returned with a blanket. He ordered her to stand up and spread the blanket on the bed. He made her sit on the bed, went in front of her, and put his cock in her mouth. He continued to fuck her mouth for a while and then stopped and made her lie face down.

“Your pussy will stay untouched,” he informed her. “Your ass… that's an entirely different story.”

The girl said nothing. He made her spread her legs slightly and put his finger in her pussy. Then he put it in her asshole and started circling it. The girl felt pain but didn't make a sound. The young man continued this game for about five minutes, and then the girl felt his weight on top of her and his cock at her asshole. He pushed it in very gently, just enough to enter slightly. The girl felt discomfort and lust simultaneously.

The young man, lying on top of her, passed his left hand underneath and squeezed her breast. Then he passed his right hand and covered her mouth. Then he entered her.

The girl screamed from pain, but her scream was muffled by his hand. He held her mouth tightly closed while his cock opened her ass.

Pain.
Lust.
Guilt.
Pleasure.
Shame.

She felt her ass tearing while he thrusted into her, but his moans of pleasure drove her crazy from lust. The pain seemed to disappear and was replaced by pleasure. He pulled out and once again she felt the mix of pain and lust.

“On all fours,” he ordered.

Drunk with lust, she hurried to obey him.

“I told you so,” he said. “You're a natural talent. Your waist arches just the right way.”

The girl said nothing. She just sat and waited for the young man to continue fucking her from behind. He, in turn, did not hesitate at all, thrust into her ass, and started fucking even more intensly.

Playing with herself in the past she had discovered the clitoral orgasm. Being a virgin, she had not discovered vaginal orgasm, and the last thing she expected was to feel an orgasm while his cock flooded her ass with hot cum.

And then she rushed to the bathroom, fearing she would mess herself. When she returned, he had gathered the blanket and was sitting naked on the couch.

“Come here,” he ordered.

The girl went and sat at his feet. The young man started kneading her breasts again.

“I changed my mind,” he informed her. “Beginning today, I will fuck you every way I please.”

She nodded in submission.

He pushed her and stood up. The girl looked at him. He noded and she went down on her knees. Shivering from lust, she took him once again fully into her mouth…

This time she swallowed all of his load without waiting for command.​

Now…

She had the drink in her hand but wasn't drinking. She had surrendered to the rhythm of Rammstein.

Sie kommen zu euch in der Nacht
Und stehlen eure kleinen heissen tränen
Sie warten bis der mond erwacht
Und drücken sie in meine kalten venen

Her mind seemed elsewhere, just like when she was eating ice cream. But when the girl turned to look at him, her gaze was sharp—like a blade concealed beneath silk. The music pulsed through the room like a living thing, wrapping them in its dark embrace, and for a moment, Orion felt the air grow heavier.

Nun liebe kinder gebt fein acht
Ich bin die stimme aus dem kissen
Ich singe, bis der tag erwacht
Ein heller schein am firmament

She hugged him, pulling him close, and kissed him fiercely. Orion froze. Her lips were soft, but her eyes lingered too long—savoring something he couldn’t name. The pounding bass seemed to sync with his heartbeat, each thrum vibrating through his chest, blurring the lines between sound and sensation. He shrugged off the feeling, though it lingered like an itch at the back of his mind, and responded with no less enthusiasm.

Mein herz brennt
Mein herz brennt
Mein herz brennt
Mein herz brennt

Her kiss was intoxicating, primal. Orion felt like he was in a dream—too surreal, too perfect. But something about the way she moved, deliberate and calculated, made his skin prickle beneath the haze of arousal.

Mein herz brennt
Mein herz brennt
Mein herz brennt
Mein herz brennt

“Let’s go,” Artemis murmured, her voice sultry but carrying an edge that brooked no argument.

Orion followed her lead, eager but uneasy, the pounding bass still echoing in his ears.

They went to her apartment. She made him sit in a chair. “Wait,” she ordered, her tone soft but firm, brooking no refusal. Her fingers grazed his briefly as she handed him a glass. “Come on, drink,” she said, her eyes never leaving his.

To set a good example, she downed her drink in one gulp, the motion almost too practiced. Orion hesitated for a moment, the liquid in his glass catching the dim light, swirling like something alive. But her gaze was unwavering, and with a nervous chuckle, he raised the glass to his lips and drank.

The girl knelt before him, moving with unsettling grace. Before he could process the shift, she pulled down his pants and boxers, taking him into her mouth.

He felt the drink weighing him down, dragging him into a heavy, oppressive fog. The room tilted slightly, the edges of his vision blurring into indistinct shapes and shadows.

Through the haze, he saw her pause, stopping mid-motion. She turned slowly, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that sliced through his stupor. “Oh, how much I missed pleasuring you, Phoebus…” she murmured, her voice dripping with something that felt like both tenderness and menace.

For a fleeting moment, the name registered—Phoebus. It wasn’t his name. But the thought slipped away almost as soon as it emerged, drowned by the numbing wave of euphoria and disorientation. The surrealistic haze enveloping him consumed all reason, leaving only sensation and surrender.

She struggled to lift him, her touch firm yet deliberate as she guided his pliant body toward the bed. His limbs felt like lead, too heavy to resist, too weightless to care.

Once there, she produced a pair of handcuffs, their metallic gleam catching the dim light. With practiced ease, she secured his wrists to the bedposts. Orion’s head lolled slightly to the side, his breath shallow and uneven. The faint click of the cuffs barely registered in his dazed mind. Resistance was a distant concept, buried beneath the fog.

Artemis straddled him and began to move. No, not moving—dancing. Each motion felt choreographed, purposeful, as if the rhythm of her body was in harmony with the unrelenting pulse of a tune that only she could hear.

She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his, her weight pinning him firmly to the bed. The kiss deepened, intoxicating and consuming. Her movements were deliberate and hypnotic. For Orion, the boundaries between reality and his own consciousness dissolved into her…

Then…

Light rain.

A dark sky.

The nauseating scent of incense contrasting the aroma of wet earth. She barely feels the cold drizzle against her skin, nor hears the murmured voices around her. Even the earthy scent of the grave feels distant, as though it belonged to someone else’s memory.

“Damn motorcycles,” murmurs a distant voice, tinged with unease.
“Just 21 years old,” says another, almost as if lamenting a pattern they cannot explain.

Phoebus is gone. He won’t tease her again, won’t play with her… won’t make her his again. Phoebus is gone forever.

Void. Absolute, boundless void. She feels her sanity shatter, her mind slipping into darkness…
​

Now…

Through his haze of pleasure and intoxication, Orion watched Artemis rise from the bed and fetch some boxes. The same boxes he had helped her carry up. She moved with unsettling precision, her hands lingering on the edges of the boxes as if they held something sacred. He saw her, almost ceremoniously, open them one by one, but he was too dazed to focus. An earthy scent clung to his senses, unshakable, though he couldn’t place its source.

Then…

Light rain.
A dark sky.

The nauseating scent of gunpowder contrasting the aroma of wet earth. Her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, the girl watched as they lowered the simple wooden box into the ground. The smell of damp earth and gunpowder bit at her senses, making her stomach churn. Her lips trembled, but she pressed them into a firm line, willing herself not to cry.

"Damn brigands," murmurs a distant voice, tinged with unease.
"Just 21 years old," says another, almost as if lamenting a pattern they cannot explain.

Phoebus is gone. He won't tease her again, won't play with her... won't make her his again. Phoebus is gone forever.

She tastes copper in her mouth from biting her lip too hard, feels the rough wool of her mourning dress against her skin. Her heart beats in time with the dull thuds of earth hitting wood.​

Now…

She climbed back on top of him, moving with fervor. He kissed him again, and his lips tingled faintly, a metallic taste lingering like a half-forgotten dream.

“Phoebus… Phoebus… Phoebus…” she cried out.

Then…

Light rain.

A dark sky.

The nauseating scent of decaying flesh contrasting the aroma of wet earth. The girl watches the shrouded body descend into the grave, her expression heavy with sorrow, her shoulders trembled as she gripped the edge of the grave for support, the scent of decaying flesh and wet grass filling her nostrils. She burst into tears, the sobs wracking her body. Her fingers dug into the dirt, the coarse texture grounding her in a way nothing else could.

“Damn horses,” murmurs a distant voice, tinged with unease.
“Just 21 years old,” says another, almost as if lamenting a pattern they cannot explain.

Phoebus is gone. He won’t tease her again, won’t play with her… won’t make her his again. Phoebus is gone forever.

She bursts into tears, her sobs wracking her body as she clutches the edge of the grave for support.
​

Now…

Orion, utterly drugged, reached his climax. With a loud scream, she did too. A detached smell of decay that he couldn't place nearly made him gag.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you, Phoebus,” she said.

Then…

Light rain.

A dark sky.

The nauseating scent of plague herbs contrasting the aroma of wet earth. The girl knelt before the mass grave, her knees bleeding into the mud. Her throat was raw from screaming his name. The sharp taste of wormwood and rosemary mingled with her tears as she chewed on the protective herbs, the bitterness cutting through her cries but not the ache in her chest.

“Damn pestilence,” murmurs a distant voice, tinged with unease.
“Just 21 years old,” says another, almost as if lamenting a pattern they cannot explain.

Phoebus is gone. He won’t tease her again, won’t play with her… won’t make her his again. Phoebus is gone forever.

The bitter taste of wormwood and rosemary fills her mouth as she chews the protective herbs, mixing with her tears. Her fingers dig into the freshly turned earth until they bleed.
​

Now…

“My name’s not Phoebus,” he slurred, his voice heavy with intoxication. “I’m not…”

His nostrills were again filled with a faint bitter smell and then the universe went blank.

Then…

Light rain.

A dark sky.

The nauseating scent of burning flesh contrasting the aroma of wet earth. The girl watches the funeral pyre, her eyes red and swollen from crying, never left the flames as they consumed the funeral pyre. She clutched a damp handkerchief, her fingers trembling. The smell of burning flesh and wood stung her nose, but it was the ache in her chest that truly hurt. Tears streamed freely down her face as she whispered his name, her voice breaking.

“Damn boars,” murmurs a distant voice, tinged with unease.
“Just 21 years old,” says another, almost as if lamenting a pattern they cannot explain.

Phoebus is gone. He won’t tease her again, won’t play with her… won’t make her his again. Phoebus is gone forever.

She clutches a damp handkerchief, her hands trembling, her grief raw and unfiltered. She feels the heat of the flames on her face, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness inside her.​

Now…

A faint warmth kissed his face—the kind that reminded him of embers. He tried to move, but the bindings held firm. Somewhere in the fog of his mind, a fragmented thought surfaced: a scent, a name, a memory—but it dissolved before he could grasp it. And then, silence.

“Artemis?” he called out uncertainly. “Artemis?”

No answer.

He pulled against the handcuffs. “Artemis?” His voice betrayed rising fear.

Artemis walked into the room holding something in her hands.

“You’re awake, darling?” she asked.

She was holding a syringe. Orion didn’t have time to react; she plunged it into his neck. Darkness engulfed him again.

When he woke up, he was no longer tied or gagged, but he couldn’t move. His muscles felt heavy and unresponsive, but his senses were fully alert.

Artemis entered the room once more.

Orion tried to move, but his body refused to respond. He could feel everything, but his muscles were paralyzed.

Artemis, unfazed, sat in a chair, lit a cigarette, and sipped her coffee.

“Remember when you asked me to tell you about my brother? He died in an accident. His name was Phoebus.”

A light flickered in Orion’s mind. Panic become ever more intense. Phoebus… Phoebus… she was calling him Phoebus last night.

“He wasn’t just my brother. He was my lover. He was my first, and I wanted him to be my last. But the Bastard who sits Above, who Sees All and Fucks Everything Up, had other plans. He took him from me.”

Orion, filled with terror, struggled to move. He couldn’t. He tried to speak but found he couldn’t do that either. Breathing became a struggle, as his chest muscles were paralyzed, making it impossible to inhale properly.

“I promised him we’d always be together. How could I break that promise? I’ll bring him back. Piece by piece. I’ll bring him back, and the Arrogant Bastard who sees everything won’t be able to stop me.”

Orion fought harder and harder for every breath, his lungs burning with the effort.

“Last night, you were too far gone to truly admire my collection,” she said.

She stood and theatrically opened the boxes, one by one. Inside each were preserved human body parts. Arms, legs, a torso… even genitalia. The only thing missing was a head.

Orion could barely breathe, his vision blurring as his body desperately tried to get oxygen.

“The head is the final piece,” Artemis said. “You look so much like Phoebus…”

As darkness began to claim him, Orion's fading vision caught something on her dresser. A photograph, yellowed with age. His oxygen-starved brain struggled to make sense of what he was seeing: a man and a woman in 1920s clothing, standing in front of an old building. The man… looked like him. And the woman…

“Almost,” she murmured, her voice hollow with disappointment. “So close… but not enough…” and her face suddenly twisted with rage. “Not fucking enough!” Her rage intensified and then abruptly faded. “Never fucking enough...” she lamented.

It was the last thing Orion heard as he slipped into the silent, suffocating grip of death.

---​

The investigation that followed would yield more questions than answers. No one knew who the red-haired girl calling herself Artemis really was—or even if the name was real. Among the evidence collected from her apartment, detectives found a series of photographs spanning decades—each depicting the same pair: a woman who appeared unchanged in every picture, standing next to a young man who also looked almost identical across the photos. Different eras, different clothes, different settings—but always the same female face, and a man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Orion, the decapitated victim.

The girl in the photographs—Artemis, if that was her real name—was never found. But in college towns across the country, young men continued to be murdered, poisoned with curare, and then decapitated. Their heads were always placed next to their bodies, with a bloody red X carved on their foreheads. Men with green eyes, a few days' worth of stubble, and all around twenty years old. Men who looked just like Orion.

The end…

…or not.

​

 

Την ιστορία αυτή την είχα ποστάρει και παλιά στα ελληνικά με τίτλο "Το τελευταίο κομμάτι"

Την απέδωσα στα αγγλικά και της έδωσα και ένα plot twist που δεν είχε η αρχική ιστορία (και to be fair, το plot twist ήταν ιδέα του Claude AI της Anthropic…)

Η εικόνα είναι από το ChatGPT με βάση το περιεχόμενο της ιστορίας.

Το ότι το Claude¹ και ChatGPT έπιασαν τα subtle hints of cosmic horror της ιστορίας, πραγματικά με ξεπερνάει.…

¹ Εξού και η πρόταση του για το τελικό twist.
² Μετά από σκέψη άλλαξα και τα ονόματα των αρχικών πρωταγωνιστών.