Sound Cloud Anime Washroom
A short story by Xavier Garcia
Leon
The washroom is e-girl birth.
Hospital white walls tinted green by ugly and diffused fluorescent lighting like soft grunge internet sleaze.
Piss-stained tub in the back and above the faucet, bringing the room all together, a nearly life-sized porcelain figure of a slutty magical girl nailed to a cross.
“This can’t be Amy’s grandpa’s washroom,” says Valerie.
Leon looks up at that magical girl crucifix. At her massive anime breasts and her tiny anime waist, at her knee-high red boots and her too-small blue miniskirt and her fetishy sailor outfit and her long blonde hair done up in double odango buns, all porcelain gleam.
“It has to be,” says Leon.
And he doesn’t give a fuck if Amy’s grandpa likes anime or has a fetish for slutty magical girls and he didn’t come to the washroom to make small talk with Valerie, he came to the washroom to do coke and to fuck Valerie if he has to.
And Leon doesn’t want to fuck Valerie he thinks he might hate her. But Leon might have to fuck Valerie because the night seems to be going that way.
Even still, he postpones the inevitable by sipping on them shitty gin and tonics he made for them both and prepares lines for them both as he sips.
And it’s not that he doesn’t find her attractive, she’s objectively sexy, corpse-pale made more corpse-pale by red lips and dark eyeshadow and platinum blonde hair and he’s looked at her cleavage more than once during the night, and he actually loved learning that she was actually from Argentina, that she is actually Latina, he thought she was some white girl, but every time she talks, she still sounds like some vapid ass white girl, like some cartoony ass white girl, and he hates how much it turns him on.
And then Leon’s out of coke and it looks like there’s nothing left to do but fuck Valerie.
He gently takes her hips and lifts her up on the counter.
Valerie
The washroom is hentai birth.
Mildew-white walls made garish by soft e-girl lighting like depression as seen through disposable film.
Old moisture smell and the floor is powdery but the magical girl crucifix is pristine.
“You don’t have any more?” says Valerie.
Leon kissing her neck, and she takes his hand and moves it up to her breasts, but she can’t help but look over to the magical girl nailed to the cross. At her big blue porcelain eyes aimed down to the tub. Aimed down to where a bather would bathe while inside of the tub. Aimed down to await the next bather to climb into the tub and bathe under her gaze.
“No, I’m out,” says Leon.
And she doesn’t actually give a fuck what Amy’s grandpa’s fetishes are, a washroom is a washroom, but she came to this washroom to do all of Leon’s drugs and probably fuck Leon but now Leon is all out of drugs and now all that’s left for Valerie to do is fuck Leon.
And Valerie doesn’t want to fuck Leon she thinks she might hate him. But Valerie will probably just end up fucking Leon because there’s literally nothing else to do instead.
And it’s not that she doesn’t find him attractive, his lips are so full and she loves that when he talks to her she has to tilt her head upwards and he knows how to make eye contact and his mop of black hair reminds of her of some boy from the 90s, but jesus fuck he’s so full of himself, yeah it’s cool they’re both Latin, but like, who gives a fuck if he knows how to speak Spanish, that doesn’t make him deep or anything, it’s not like he’s deep or anything, it’s not like she hasn’t noticed him looking at her cleavage all night or anything.
Valerie kisses him so deep and Leon reaches up her skirt and pushes her little thong to the side and pushes inside of her.
Slutty Magical Girl Nailed to a Cross
The washroom is human birth.
Air musky from wet copulation and gin and tonic sad masturbation breath.
The little room polluted by the stupid words of stupid people.
Valerie moans.
The Slutty Magical Girl Nailed to a Cross climbs off of her cross. Iron nails plinking down to the tub. But they don’t hear. She turns her porcelain gaze to the empty young things. But they don’t see. They’re too busy clinging and humping and pressing into each other all desperate on the counter.
Leon accidentally calls Valerie baby.
And The Slutty Magical Girl Down From Her Cross doesn’t care what they’re doing here inside her wet chapel. She doesn’t care if they’re fucking just for her pleasure in the old ways of tribute, her caretaker should have known better than to allow these idiot worshipers inside of her piss-watery shrine.
And The Slutty Magical Girl Down From Her Cross doesn’t want to punish these lonely young things she thinks she might love them. But she will punish them anyway because the old rules are there for a reason.
So, she lifts up her hands to her young moaning children, as if for a blessing, but she does not do this in blessing, she does this in malice, for tomorrow they’ll each wake with two gifts: a hangover in their guts, and a parasite in their hearts.
And they’ll each wake in their beds and realize they’ve fallen in love.
And it’s the cruelest thing The Slutty Magical Girl Down From Her Cross can think of to do.
Xavier Garcia is a writer/editor from Toronto, Canada. His short fiction has appeared in various magazines and anthologies published by Cold Signal, hex, Apocalypse Confidential, Cursed Morsels, Filthy Loot, Weirdpunk Books, and others. You can find him walking the nightmare corpse-city of R’lyeh, or at twitter.com/xavier_agarcia.