The R.L. Mathewson Chronicle’s
A Sneak Peek at the next Neighbor from Hell…..
The Game Plan
“It’s burning!” she snapped back, slapping his hands when he tried to push her hands away as she frantically tried to wipe off the white glop that felt like it was burning her skin off.
“You need to take this off,” he said, sounding calm and in control when all she wanted to do was scream, again, and freak out, again, but he wouldn’t let her.
As soon as she’d started screaming about her skin being on fire, Danny had snapped into action. He’d grabbed the hose and hit her full force with a jet of ice-cold water, which may have started another round of screaming. It also made the burning sensation a lot worse. Before she could tell him that, probably because he figured it out by her screams, he’d dropped the hose, picked her up and ran with her inside, straight into his apartment and had her in his bathtub before she could put up much of an argument.
“No, don’t turn the water on!” she screamed in terror seconds before a stream of hot water hit her.
“You need to get this off,” he said, still sounding irritatingly calm as she struggled against the urge to scream as the water caused the white slime on her body to heat up again.
When he grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it off, she didn’t even think about fighting him since she was too busy trying not to freak out over the likelihood that the gunk from the trashcan was nuclear waste. She barely noticed when he yanked off her shoes, socks and went for her pants, but she definitely noticed when he went for her bra.
“Hey!” she gasped, slapping at the offending hand.
“That shit soaked up into the material,” he pointed out as her mind registered the burning sensation seeping beneath the bra. “It needs to come off.”
She opened her mouth to……
“W-what are you doing?” she managed to choke out while she watched as Danny pulled his shirt off and tossed it out of the shower as he toed off his boots. Then he bent over and pulled off his socks and threw them out of the shower. He stood up and quickly undid his pants and shoved them down, revealing a pair of tight fitting black boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination.
When he stood up and ran a hand through his wet hair, her gaze raced to follow the move, taking in the puckered pink scar and the raised straight line that ran through it on an otherwise droolworthy set of abs, up to the Marines tattoo that he had on his chest, the one that she may have found herself thinking about a time or two, and finally up to meet his gaze and immediately regretting it. He looked serious, really serious, and determined as he sent her a hard glare.
“Your skin is streaked red,” he began, taking her by surprise.
She looked down and sure enough, her body was covered in angry looking red streaks and splotches right where her skin burned and itched like crazy. Swallowing nervously, she looked back up at him and found a matching red spot on his shoulder, right where she’d nailed him with a handful of goop.
“Your underwear is coated in that shit and the longer that you keep it on, the more damage that it’s going to do to your skin,” he said, sounding completely rational, which actually frightened her. “We need to get the rest of your clothes off and try to wash the residue off your skin, now.”
As much as she wanted to argue with him, and she really wanted to argue this one, she couldn’t. With each passing second the burning and itching only got worse.
“Fine,” she said, reaching for her bra strap, “but you don’t need to be in here. I can do it myself.”
“I’m not leaving,” the stubborn bastard said as he reached down and grabbed a large bar of white soap.
“Yeah, you really are” she said, wincing when a sting accompanied her attempt to move her bra strap.
“Not happening, Tinkerbelle,” he said, gently pushing her hand aside and-
“Ow!” she cried out as he pulled her bra strap up and over her shoulder and as far down her arm as it would go. She had a similar reaction when he did the same with the other bra strap.
“Your back and legs faired the worst, Tink,” he said, startling her into looking down as he efficiently unsnapped her bra and what she saw had her swallowing hard as she tried to panic.
“Are you allergic to anything, Tink?” he asked, sounding calm as he carefully hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slowly lowered them to the floor.
“No,” she said, a small cry escaping her when his knuckles accidentally brushed up against her skin.
“Are you having any problems breathing?” he asked, tossing her panties out of the shower.
“No,” she mumbled, trying not to lose it.
“Good,” he murmured behind her as she struggled against looking back down.
Every inch of her body was covered in what appeared to be hives, large, angry looking hives that were noticeably raised. There wasn’t a spot on her body that didn’t itch or burn. Only the fear that she would make things worse was stopping her from scratching every inch of her body. The itching she could understand, but she’d never heard of hives burning the-
“I’m sorry,” Danny said, cutting through her panicked thoughts.
“For what?” she asked before a thought occurred to her and when it did, she was seeing red. “Oh my god! Those bags were yours?” she demanded, moving to turn around and kick his ass when he answered.
“Then what are you apologizing for?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip as she snuck another peek down at herself and cringed.
“Wh-Ouch!” she screamed as he carefully placed his soapy hands on her back. The pain multiplied, forcing her to slap her hands against the shower wall and grit her teeth together as she thought of another way to kill the bastard.
© R.L. Mathewson, 2014. All Rights Reserved.