Chapter 2: Chapter 1: The Ramifications Of Nighttime Living
Roadside Motel, Unknown Location, Unknown State....
Sensitivity to light was the first side effect of awakening after the events of yet another wild night in the life of Channon Duko Lovell, whom had been unceremoniously sprawled across a messy motel bed amid semi tossed covers and pillows while his large muscular body dangled some over the edge of the nearly exposed mattress beneath him. Due to events from the previous night, he awoke to find himself as naked as the day he was born with his rippled rows of muscle exposed to the morning chill as well as his tight formed naked arse in the air and his now rapidly stirring cock pressed tightly against one of the crisp white pillows that had not been beneath his head or thrown to the floor while he slept.
There were empty bottles aplenty that littered the floor around him including one still clasped via his fingers of the hand he has dangling off the bed. It was apparent that he had over indulged in himself in more than a few bottles of beer before passing out.
Up close one could see his impressively well kept black beard that covered the lower half of his already handsome and seemingly chiseled face. His sweat slick black locks which were medium in length were tossed about into a messy style on top of his head due to his recent slumber. His exposed flesh was olive oil in color and slick from sweat as well. Blinking away the leftover haze from fatigue, his eyes when they reopened, were a deep shade of blue as he attempted to make sense of his surroundings.
Duko had barely any recollection of what happened the night before and this morning had not been any different from the last one. He rolled onto his back feeling the numbness of having been laying on his arm for too long settling and his cock began pointing straight into the air as if on cue for something.
He rolled his eyes none too thrilled about the onset of his morning erection. As he lied there with his back pressed against the mattress and pondered the events that lead up to the moment he awoke. The last thing he recalled was getting drunk in a roadside bar. There was loud music pulsing through the very foundation of the place and women of all assortment in attendance.
He could smell the scent of arousal and knew the desperation of their need as he saw his way to plunging his cock into more than a few of them over the course of the night. A redhead, with emerald green eyes was the first to approach him. Then came a blonde with blue eyes and a brunette with brown eyes all desperate for attention and all panting and screaming for more of his brutal pounding within the confines of a public toilet as the music played and the drinks continued to pour.
Once he had his fill of the wanton women he took his leave of the establishment feeling the effects of the various rounds of booze he'd ingested and returned to the motel he'd been wise enough to rent a room in before making his way to the bar.
Duko stretched some feeling his cock pulse at the memory of the numerous women he'd taken while still at the club and rolled out of bed. It was daylight out and he had a good deal more ground to cover in terms of travel. He made his way into the bathroom feeling the slick cold tile against the bottom of his sizeable bare feet.
He stood over the toilet bowl, his impressive height towering over the already low installed device and aimed his still erect cock at the bowl releasing his aching bladder via answering the call of nature. It seemed a typical morning after a night of aimless wandering and continuous sex with strange women whose names and faces he couldn't and didn't wish to recall. Duko finished up shaking his cock and flushing the toilet before heading over to the sink where he washed his hands and stared at his reflection.
Mornings were never easy for him as the memories of past events he had worked so hard to forget via booze and sex seemed to come flooding back to him when he least expected it. It was particularly difficult for him due to his tendency to memorize sensory data at an alarming rate. The sound of a passing helicopter seemed to be the first thing that triggered the onset of his sensory drive memory as he recalled the sound that seemed so distant and yet so familiar in his mind's eye.
The rapidly rushing blades of the helicopter seemed the loudest thing to ever reach his ears as a much younger Duko attempted to keep from instinctively covering them in a bid to hear the commanding order of his superior officer. He was 23 and had a reputation for having outdone everyone in bootcamp via their training sessions more times than anyone could count and they bumped him up the ladder to actual military combat due to his exceptional status. He saw his first taste of war in 2003 with the invasion of Iraq following the events of 911.
His unit was on a special assignment to infiltrate a particularly hostile town where many of the armed forces were hostile to American soldiers and frequently bombing them. To take over the strategic territory the high-ups sent them with every confidence that the town could be taken and the bombings would come to an end.
Unbeknownst to the younger Duko however, this was to be his final assignment.
His service came to an end after a rather vicious war campaign assignment saw to him having slaughtered a group of twelve year old boys whom the Iraqis had used to do their fighting during the particularly difficult battle for his unit's survival. When the combat began he was struck via an explosive and nearly killed in the blast only to awaken and rapidly heal while engaging enemy forces head on and outright slaughtering the opposition only to discover that there were children used amongst them and he had killed quite a few in the midst of his disoriented bloodlust.
He was stuck again via an explosive and rendered unconscious after realization hit him that he had unintentionally murdered children used as cannon fodder for a war effort. When he came too he was bound and restrained in the infirmary where he received an honorable discharge due to his previous record of service in saving the lives of many of his men, but they made a note to classify him as mentally unstable as a result of his unhinged aggression and the killing of those children.
In the present, Duko glared at his reflection his expression one of horror as his recollection of the bloodied bodies made him nauseous and he once more traveled back to the toilet where he vomited profusely due to the images that flooded his mind of the blood and bodies. His men didn't know what to say as he had saved their lives during combat on more than one occasion but the sight of him covered in blood and on a dangerous rampage terrified even them to be near him.
He quietly accepted the discharge and returned home a year before the war's end and visited estranged his father's house after fourteen years of being away. He left his service uniform and medals on the front porch for the older man to find and took off wearing nothing aside from the clothes on his back which consisted of a green short sleeve shirt, camo pants, and black boots. His silver dog tags remained dangling about his neck, but tucked behind his shirt when he parted never to venture back to that house again.
He'd been on the road ever since struggling to control urges that seemed to dominate every aspect of his being and subjected to perpetual loneliness as he often awoke naked and covered in blood in various strange places. When it came to his strange ailment, nothing was worse than the series of blackouts that accompanied him awakening naked with no idea where he was or how he'd gotten there.
Most days he simply kept travelling panicking after taking notice of the blood and not knowing where it had come from but fearing it had been another case of what happened when he attacked that town in a blood fueled rage.
He passed the time scouring bars and bedding strange women as he had before he enlisted after an the incident that lead to his drunken abusive father tossing him out into the cold after delivering something akin to a savage beating to the then boy when he was just sixteen years old.
Duko regained his composure and washed his mouth out after flushing the toilet once more. He splashed water on his face and climbed into the shower. He had made the best of his wandering existence despite having no idea what had been wrong with him nor how to go about seeing anyone whom could help him manage it.
The cool water hitting his skin was good for the nausea it seemed and awakened him further as he let the water cascade down his back and head while he remained lost in the reflection of his no doubt tragic past.
He vaguely recalled an encounter with a woman named Joan whom had been dressed in white when he met her at a random roadside bar. Joan was a very forward woman and given to avid flirtation. She didn't stop until she got what she wanted which resulted in having him over to her trailer in the deep woods where he proceeded to screw her well into the night before suffering the effects of his affliction. The onset of headache prompted him to attempt to leave only for her to insist they continue their sordid affair. After the end of their numerous acts, Duko entered her bathroom and collapsed onto the floor.
The last thing he recalled was awakening in the middle of the woods naked and covered in blood as sun rise came just over the horizon. He made the trek back to what he recalled to have been her trailer and followed a trail of blood that lead to the deceased body of the formerly wanton woman in white on the floor of her kitchen. Her throat was ripped out and she was still naked after their encounter holding one of her white bed sheets stained with blood to her body as she bled out on her own kitchen floor from the severing of her jugular vein via teeth marks.
Duko gasped pulling himself out of his memories and turned off the water to finish up his shower. He got dressed pulling on a pair of black boxer shorts, dark denim jeans, and heavy black boots. He filled his pockets with his left over articles like his wallet and a set of keys to what appeared to have been his motorcycle parked outside the room and below the stairs where he'd been temporarily located.
He slicked his messy meduim length locks back behind his ears and threw his silver dog tags around his neck as he pulled on his black t-shirt before slipping back into his equally black leather jacket. He grabbed his shades before making his exit and slipped them back on to his eyes as well. After a final check of the room ensuring that he left little to no trace of his having been there aside from the numerous empty bottles and messy bed before turning in his key, he hopped onto his bike and once more hit the open highway.
It was clear in his manner of haste that he desired nothing more in those few moments than to put some continuous distance between himself and the possibly already discovered corpse of the long dead woman named Joan.
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