Dead Valentine (St. Valentine’s)

6

6

February 14, 2001

While walking to the cafeteria, I feel refreshed from the best sleep I’ve had in awhile. The hushed whispers of Cara’s death fill the halls, and I can barely stifle the pep in my step. My hands shoved in my slacks while I wait in line to get breakfast and coffee. I act oblivious to the news and add food to my tray. My eyes roll in exasperation when I see what they’ve done to the food to showcase the holiday. I grab a pink heart-shaped bagel and a few packets of cream cheese, making my way to the register. I notice the new guy who’s taking over for Cara.

His bleach blonde hair is slicked back and he has a diamond stud in his left ear. He looks up and blushes when he sees me. Interesting. He would only be my type if he was dead, but I could make this work. Is flirting with men the same as a woman? Hmm. I look at his name tag and then smile at him.

“Hi, Turner. Could I get an extra-large black coffee, please?” He returns my smile, even his fucking teeth are bleached.

“Hiya, handsome. One extra large black coffee coming right up.” I watch as he pours my coffee in a cup that looks like hearts vomited all over it, and puts the pink lid on. Grabbing a marker, he writes on the cup with a smile on his face. He spins the cup so the writing is facing me and I read it. Gazebo in 10? 3

Well, shit, I didn’t have to do a fucking thing. I look up at him, schooling my stunned expression and smirk. His smile grows as I nod and turn away with my coffee and tray. Taking a seat at a table, I bite into my bagel and sip my coffee, occasionally looking in his direction. I was looking forward to taking him to my dorm and playing like I did with Cara, but the gazebo is fucking perfect.

My cock twitches, remembering the night before. I grimace at the feel of my athletic cup pressing against my growing cock. I hope the gazebo isn’t closed off. If it is, then my dorm is always a back-up plan that I’m more than willing to go with. It’s not like Cara can give him a heads up to stay away now. I guess I can thank Colson for that.

I take a big bite of my bagel, and shake my head. No, fuck that, I’m not thanking that sniveling twit. I stand and discard my remaining bagel and coffee cup into the trash before heading towards the gazebo. Stepping outside, I soak in the small rays of sun peeking through the clouds. I shove my freezing hands in my pockets and walk through the light dusting of snow.

Getting closer to the gazebo, I tread lightly along the icy walkway. I hear footsteps crunching behind me and turn my head, noticing Turner trudging towards me. He hasn’t noticed me yet since he’s watching his footsteps along the path. Turning back towards the gazebo, I step in and look around, noticing nobody is in there. My eyes immediately zero in on the place that Cara died and my cock twitches painfully behind my cup. Turner stands in front of me, too short to block my view, but I realize I should probably focus on him. I look down and find him looking up with flushed cheeks, smiling. I open my mouth to say something, but freeze, I’ve never done this with a man before.

His smile softens. “Hey, don’t worry. I know this is just a curiosity thing for you.”

I look around as if someone, worse, Colson, will pop up and say, ‘gotcha’!

“I know this is a secret. My lips are sealed,” he smirks and looks down at my slacks. “Well, they’re about to be.”

I lift my brow. “Wha-” my words die off as Turner drops to his knees before me and starts unbuckling my belt. I choke on my spit. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He quickly unbuttons and unzips my slacks. Curling his fingers inside my boxer briefs, I shiver at the feel of his frozen fingers. He winces. “Sorry.”

He quickly tugs my boxer briefs and pants down to my ankles and my cup tumbles out. He frowns down at it and back up at me.

“A cup?”

I tilt my head and shrug. “You don’t know pain ‘til you’re working in the university morgue and a cooler door clips your nuts.”

With a pained laugh, he grimaces. “That sounds awful.”

My laugh is cut off with a choked gasp, “Yea-oh whoa,” as he quickly grips my cock and swallows it whole. “Jesus Christ, ambitious much?”

He giggles around my hardening cock and I groan from the vibration. Without thought, one of my hands reaches out and grips his blonde locks. He moans around my cock as if to encourage the hold I have on him. My eyes focus on the spot where Cara hung and my hips thrust, shoving my cock further in his hot mouth. Flashes of the night before play before me, as I remember how she looked before and after she was hung. Bringing my other hand down, I grip his hair tight and thrust in and out of his mouth. I feel a growl rattle in my chest as if some primal need has taken over. Every image makes my cock throb more and a tingle zips through my spine.

Turner grips my hips tight, inviting me to continue my assault on his throat. Sweat drips down my temples and spit flies past my lips as I continue to grunt and growl like a fucking animal.

“That’s it, take it.” The moment I imagine the sound of Cara’s neck snapping and the subtle twitches of her body, I lose it. “Motherfuck!” I shout as I cum down Turner’s throat. My chest heaves with my ragged breaths, puffs of air surrounding every exhale.

Turner pulls back, wiping his swollen lips with the back of his hand. His hair is disheveled from my grip on it, and he laughs as he sits back on his heels. I shake my head, realizing I’m freezing my cock and balls off just standing there pantless. I pull my underwear and pants up as Turner quietly hands over my cup with a neutral expression. Nodding my head in thanks, I shove the cup in my underwear, close my pants and buckle my belt. At a loss for words, I spin and walk quickly out of the gazebo.

Turner giggles behind me and shouts, “Let me know if you’re ever curious again!” My eyes widen and I look around to make sure I’m the only one that heard him.

Realizing how late I’m running, I speed walk to the university morgue for class. Adjusting my garment bag over my arm for the fourth time, I grunt in frustration. Once I reach the door, I grab the handle and tilt my head back, taking a deep breath. Compose yourself, Corbin.

Opening the door, everyone halts their talking and stares at me. Some look bored, others with solemn expressions. I avoid their eyes and walk over to the clothes rack where we hang our garment bags. Turning around, I find them still staring and chuckle.

“Why does everyone look like someone just died?”

A few attempt to hold back laughs, while the women gasp in horror.

“You guys are gonna have to brush up on your morgue humor. It’s meant to be dark, ya know?”

The professor sighs and shakes his head in disappointment. “Mr. Moriarty, I understand everyone grieves in different ways, but are you sure you’re able to participate today?”

My brow furrows in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be able to participate, sir?”

Walking closer to the body tray, he steps aside and I realize what he means. Don’t react, don’t react. Fuck, look at her. I knew she’d look better like this. My cock pulsates against my cup like it’s knocking the door down to be let free.

“Mr. Moriarty, as you see, we're working on Miss Ray. I understand you two were… close.” Shit, I’m supposed to be mourning this bitch. I tug at the v of my scrub top and morph my face into some form of pitiful. I probably look like Colson right now. Gross.

“Yes, sir. I mean, Cara was a friend, yes. A l-lovely woman.” I shake my head and clear my throat, meeting his eyes. “I can do it, sir. I’ve learned in this field, there will come a time that we all have to work with family and close friends that have departed.” I square my shoulders and take a deep breath. “Today will be the day I learn this lesson.”

Professor nods. “Very well, Mr. Moriarty.” He turns towards the other students, “Alright, shall we begin?”

We each line up to grab our gloves, protective eyewear and face masks. Lining up around the table, the professor nods and says, “Mortui vivos docent.” The dead teach the living.

I’m amazed he doesn’t have a banner with that latin phrase hanging in here. It’s almost like a superstition for him, he says it before we work on every cadaver. I wonder if he started it, or perhaps a professor before him.

“Since we’ve already done lessons on preparing a body for autopsy, all of that has been completed already. Today we will be noting our findings on the body. Why is it important to note everything we find?”

Ignoring what the student answers, I look up at Cara’s body, slowly starting from her toes and up. I pretend to focus on a small bruise on her thigh, but really I’m staring at her pussy. Exactly how I pictured it when I jerked off over her the other night. God, I bet it feels so fucking good now. My gloves squeak with how tightly my hands are fisted.

“Mr. Moriarty,” the professor says in an annoyed tone. Great, he had to have called on me more than once. I clear my throat and stretch out my hands.

“Yes, sir?”

“Name something on her body that should be noted.”

“Note the medium-sized jelly bean shaped bruise near her left acetabulum. Looks to be approximately a week old bruise,” I point with my index finger. Grabbing her thigh, I manipulate the skin around it, as if still searching for answers. My cock hardens, and I suppress a groan by clearing my throat. “My guess is she smacked it against one of the counters working in the cafeteria.”

Professor points and nods with a rare smile, “Excellent note. This brings up an age-old debate in the medical field. Conjecture. When is it appropriate? Is it appropriate?” He waves his hands towards everyone standing on the right side of the tray. “You discuss.” Waving at us on the left, he says, “Note your findings.”

I wipe the condensation from my steamed mirror and finish the skincare routine that I started in the shower. Did I learn this particular routine from Patrick Bateman? I’d rather not say. Putting my face mask on, I pat dry my body down with my towel and then wrap it around my hips. While I wait the allotted ten minutes, I lay out my outfit for the night. After peeling the mask off, I apply moisturizer and anti-aging cream. I open my pomade, put a dollop in my hand and run it through my longer hair on top. I try to tame the slight waves, pushing them back from my face. A few strands fall forward and I turn my head side-to-side. Hmm. I like it. Grabbing my deodorant, I swipe it on and then spray my PS For Men cologne. I point to the mirror and wink. “They’re gonna love ya.” I slide my watch on and listen for the click, securing it in place. Checking the time, I realize it’s almost time for my date. It’s a big night for a lot of people here at SVU. I may not be one of the Divine Valentine, but I do know something big happens every year on this day. It’s as if the entire campus shuts down. If you’re not one of them, stay the fuck in your dorm and let them do their thing.

I have to rebel a little for my date. They’re frigid as hell, but that’s how I prefer them anyway. We’ll be out of their way, it should be fine. Quickly dressing, I grab the stolen key card I need and leave my dorm. I quickly look around the halls and listen for a moment, making sure I won’t be caught. When I don’t hear or see anything, I lock my door and head to the stairs.

Staying light on my feet, I slowly walk down the stairs, making my way to the first floor. Cracking the door open, I peek out and listen again. When it seems clear, I push the door open and step out, carefully closing it behind me. I make sure that door closes quietly as well and silently thank the snow for muffling my footsteps. It’s darker than usual out here. Something tells me that’s on purpose. The sound of screams can faintly be heard out in the snowy trees of the grounds, and I press myself against the wall.

Squinting my eyes, I look around and make sure there isn’t anybody near. Finding it clear, I pick up the pace to get to my date on time. Pulling the key card from my pocket, I scan it until the indicator light turns green and the door clicks. As I open the door, I hear more screams and shake my head. You people will not ruin my night, dammit. I cringe when my shoes squeak against the linoleum. “Fuck,” I mutter. Finding the walkway rug, I rub my shoes against it, trying to dry them off.

Cracking my neck, I shove the key card in my pocket and push forward. Once I reach the next door, I slip inside and sigh in relief, locking the door behind me.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry I’m late. You know what tonight is, so I had to be extra careful in order to make it to you. I hope you’re not too upset with me.” Opening the cooler, I slide the body tray out and smile. “Hello, sweetheart.”

The wheels of the transfer cart squeal as I pull the tray out further. Kicking the locks on each wheel to hold it in place, I sigh in contentment while staring down at her. “As much as I want to take my time with you, time is of the essence, as they say.”

Looking her up and down, I realize I’ll need two things. Grabbing a tray trolley, I roll it over to the supply cabinets and drop medical grade tape and a scalpel on it. I walk over to Cara with it and rip off two pieces of tape and slap them to the tray. I peel back one eyelid and tape it to her forehead, then do the same with the other.

“Perfect,” I nod. I grab her tits and squeeze them like stress balls. I groan at the chilly feel of her skin and grit my teeth. “Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart. This is a date, I don’t need to be professional right now.”

Letting go for a moment, I brace myself on the tray and push myself up. I groan, feeling more of her cold body pressed against me as soon as I straddle her hips. My cock hardens beneath my scrub pants, the fabric stretching around it. So much better without that damn cup in the way.

“God, the way I need to immerse myself inside you. Fuck, there’s so many things I want to do to you right now.”

My pre-cum soaks through the front of my pants. Grabbing the top of my pants, I pull them down and settle them below my knees. I grip my cock and stroke twice, grunting before bringing it to her pussy. I hiss, rubbing the tip between her firm folds. “Fuck, I bet you’re even tighter now, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Tilting my hips, I push and feel her entrance resisting my cock.

“Yeah you are. Let me in,” I chuckle.

I grip the head of the tray for leverage and slowly push inside. For most, the frigid temps would shrivel their cock but for me, it’s the opposite. I’m rock fucking hard and I love it. God, please don’t cum yet. My teeth crack from the pressure of clenching my jaw as I continue to slide inside her.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so fucking perfect like this.” I have to be careful not to thrust too hard and tear anything. That would be my luck, rip the bitch’s pussy and then it’s noted during a class. Don’t be an amateur, Corbin. I drop my forearms on either side of her and stare into her lifeless eyes. “You have no idea how much I wanted to do this when you were in my bed. It just wouldn’t have been the same though. You understand, right?”

I rock my hips slowly, bringing my face between the opening of her Y incision. The familiar tingle zips up my spine and I feel my cock start to pulsate.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” I quickly pull out of her, aiming my cock at the floor, watching spurts of cum fly down with a splat. My breath comes out in heavy pants as I stare down at my cum. Fuck, that was close. I don’t care what anyone says, the smell of a corpse is not putrid. It’s fucking delicious and should be bottled as a goddamn cologne. I’d wear it everyday. Okay, maybe only if I was alone, because clearly I’d jizz in my pants all fucking day long smelling myself.

Pushing my hair back from my face, I wipe the sweat from my forehead with my arm. Pinching the flaps made with the Y incision between my fingers, I peel both sides away and stare inside her chest cavity and moan.

“Fuck, baby. Look at what you do to me. I just fucking came and I’m getting hard again. You dirty little slut.”

I had a plan to play with her stomach like I’ve been fantasizing about, but her heart catches my eye. My eyes flick between her heart and stomach, contemplating. There would be no hiding this. I will definitely have to be proactive in our next class and make a fool of myself. Probably push ahead, grab her heart and start cutting immediately. Say I’m studying the chambers from within.

I nod to myself and look at Cara. “What better symbolism than playing with your heart on Valentine’s Day? You’re like a ready-made meal, all cut up and prepared for me.”

Picking up the scalpel from the tray, the metal clinks together and scrapes as I pull it away. With my other hand, I reach in and grip her heart. My cock throbs at the sensation, I’m hovering above her moaning and shivering in delight. “Oh fuck, I want it. I need it.” Bringing her heart to my nose, I aggressively inhale and lick across it, leaving a trail. I whimper at the taste and texture, quickly pulling it away before I take a bite out of it like an apple. My hand shakes as I hold both her heart and the scalpel. I push the scalpel into her heart and make an incision.

Checking with my fingers inside to see how much space I have, I toss the scalpel to the tray with a clank and zero in on the movement of my fingers sliding in and out of her heart. “Oh fuck, oh yes.”

I grip my cock and slide it inside, whimpering like a goddamn woman. My whole body convulses as my cock throbs at the feel of her heart tissue sucking it in. I collapse against her body and nuzzle into her neck, thrusting into her heart. I can barely stop myself from biting her neck and turn my head, chomping my teeth on her strands of hair. The intense pleasure reduces me to a sob and I curse at her.

“You fucking bitch. Look what you’ve done to me. Nothing will ever compare to this. How do I say goodbye to this? To you. Oh fuck, it’s so good. Oh, you dirty fucking slut, you’ve fucking ruined me. I can’t stop, can’t stop. No.”

I quickly sit up on my knees, and rip her heart away from my cock as spurts of cum join my last puddle on the floor. What is wrong with me? I’m sobbing just like pathetic Colson.

Putting her heart back in her chest cavity, I put the flaps of her skin back in place and pull my scrub pants up. Carefully, I climb down from the tray and lean in towards her face. “Why would you do this to me, Cara? You’ve just made this the best and worst day of my life.” With a glare into her lifeless eyes, I sniffle and yank the tape from her eyelids before I clean up.

To this day I still think of Cara Ray. If I could feel love, she would have been my first. Well, her heart at least.