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KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)	By : runningnakedinthepark Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 2133 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Rammstein. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 26
- 27
Title: KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)
Author: Robby a.k.a. Mr Naked
Rating: NC17/AU
Pairing: everyone and then some more
Disclaimer: I was smoking some really good stuff when I came up with this.
Betas: Flowers and thank yous go to Hannelore_K

KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)
Part III – Just Like You Imagined
Chapter 26.

I turn my head, feeling something like panic starting to drill a hole into my heart. For a split of a second I have this sort of revelation – on the other side of this dark room, a light blinks for just few seconds so it would reveal this silhouette. It is a man, young, with longish dark hair, his lower lip fuller than his upper lip and pushed a bit forward like a spoiled brat does. He is knelt with his back against a dirty wall, and he looks straight into my eyes; he wears black shiny leather pants and gloves, and a net fabric shirt that reveals his pectorals. The shiny leather twinkles reddish in the blinking light, as if his gloves and pants had been sprayed with fresh blood of a victim. I look back at him in awe, because I realize that I know that face, I’ve seen it before, in a room filled with all the oddities collected from all the corners of the world. The sad look in his eyes and his frowned eyebrows remind me of that man that had everything anyone would want, and still he wasn’t happy.

This new growl chases away those images – in yet another corner I spot a different mirror. I lift myself, rising on my knees as I watch that silhouette in front of the second mirror, there is this man, on his knees too, but very close to the mirror; he seems very fascinated by what he sees in there, as he caresses the reflection floating on the glittering surface. He gets his face even closer to the mirror and first smells then starts licking his own image, while he emits these guttural moans - half pleasure, half anger. I can recognize his thick arms and muscled broad shoulders, as well as his black and spiky short hair.

“Oh, dear, these dogs again!” I hear this voice, while in the background the humming noise has become even louder, resembling more a howl. The howl of the wakening Beast, making all the living beings lose their minds with fear, making them all howl and squeal, to growl, just like Paul in front of me, jumping at me, trying to bite me. But it seems that something stronger than him, someone is pulling that lead, just like they are pulling mine, strangling my throat, choking me.

“Down, down!”

It is as if I’m wearing a collar and someone is pulling it from behind, to force me to remain still and not jump on Paul to bite a chunk of his flesh to show him who’s the head of the pack here!

“And you, Till, you always start these things!”

The angry voice penetrates the darkness that fell violently over us, as the howling sound is so loud making the blood freeze in my veins.

“That’s it, you’re punished!”

The voice again, that voice I know so well, as these two hands struggle with the muzzle to fix it in my mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut, deafened and terrified by the howling noise, as I give in and allow the muzzle to be placed into my opened mouth and fixed there. It tastes of plastic and keeps my jaws apart, making my whole face to start aching.

“We’ll be out of here soon,” this whisper promises me, as I’m pet on the back of my head, with a calming gesture.

The voice is right, the howling sounds start to decrease in intensity, and, as it is getting lower and lower, it’s as if I’m regaining my senses. Smells. Sounds. Humans, warm flesh, pounding hearts, vibrating veins, sweat, perfumes, food…. The howling fades out, and I dare to open my eyes, bit by bit.

A particular smell grabs all my attention; I sense it through all those scents of leather, fresh bread, heated plastic, skin, coffee beans, fabrics, clean clothes, not washed in a long time clothes, fear, regrets, sleepiness, joy, boredom, freshly-washed hair, dirty hair – through all that penetrates this scent of blood.

I stretch my neck to get closer to the source of that smell intoxicating me and arousing all my senses – a bit like raw meat starting to rotten. Something dark and primitive is awakening inside me as I bathe all my senses in this scent; through my lowered eyelids I see the thin, young legs as they stand near my face, ending under a short skirt.

In that instant my neck is jerked forcefully, the collar tightening its grip, biting my flesh, choking me. I twist my head, annoyed, but my glance meets the sharp, reproachful glare of those blue eyes. The furrowed eyebrows are telling me that I’m going too far again.

Frau’s icy glare is telling me that I’m not allowed that. But I can’t help it!

I turn my head slowly, while trying to say something, but my jaws fixed and parted by the muzzle let me only emit this unhappy growl. My whole being screams for it!

Instead, I look around me, trying to resist that lure. Near me, on both sides, are Flake, Paul, Olli and Richard, all leashed, just like me. Each of them are on all fours, just like me, on the floor of the subway train. Not too far from us is this young guy standing and listening to music on his headphones – those wild rushed sounds flooding his ears. He is moving his head slowly, his whole body is vibrating in the rhythm and the sounds poured directly into his brain.

People sitting, people standing, all wearing these stern looks on their immobile faces, as if their souls left their bodies, while their carcasses are just empty shells transported by a demented, howling steel worm crossing through the ground. Puppets!

Near a door, three men and a woman are talking fervently – in some town, in some country, there have been some suicide bombings in subway trains. One of the guys states that he’s not afraid to travel by subway, even after those events.

I lower my head and the thick enticing smell sneaks through my nostrils.

I know that the guy is lying, he hasn’t gotten on a train since the bombing occurred – he’s still paralyzed by fear. The woman comments that the next target of the terrorists might be another capital city on this continent.

I lift my head toward the source of the luring smell, inhaling that warmth, as I feel the saliva filling up my mouth; my lips are tingling – soft, fleshy, heated thighs and the heavy sweet scent of blood – it’s a young woman menstruating.

The huge metal worm stops with a groan, as its wheels bite the steel tracks. My collar is jerked again, but gently. It’s time to go.

Feet, shoes, socks, summer sandals, painted toenails, ankles – all move fast under my eyes. Paul starts walking, so does Flake. I follow them, then Olli begins to move, and then Richard. Richard, though, rushes and pushes Olli as if trying to snatch his place by my side. But our leashes are jerked again, forcing Richard to give up, to resume his place and to walk properly like the good doggie he is.

My palms and knees leave the soft cover of the train’s floor as we all step out onto the cold, sturdy tiles of the subway station. From behind us I pick the clapping sound of Frau’s sandals. Frau is the only thing in this world that I fear. Frau and the insane howl of the subway train. Frau knows it, about us fearing the train, but nothing can make her change the route.

The arousing scent of raw meat just starting to rotten catches up with us from behind, and then passes fast by us, distancing itself with each rushed step, to fade away among the other scents and flavors. The teenage girl climbs the stairs; my collar gets jerked again, Frau doesn’t allow us to rush after the girl, so we just extend our necks inhaling the remains of that luring scent. We must walk and behave properly like the good house-trained dogs we are.

“You’re not allowed with pets in the subway, ma’am,” says a young fellow to Frau as we pass through the gates. Frau throws him one of these annoyed glances, the glare of her blue eyes, filled with disdain piercing through and silencing him.

Of course Frau knows, but these stupid rules can’t make Frau change the route, either. We always take the train when we go downtown.

We’re at the stairs by now and we start climbing to the surface; the cool air from underground backs off bit by bit as we feel our bodies engulfed by this humid heat, as if a huge animal is breathing right into our faces. Above the ground is a hot summer afternoon.

Under my eyes run these flickering images – bare legs, long pants, short pants, skirts – colored flashes, as all those human sweaty bodies walk by us. Dust, groans and growls, heated almost melting concrete.

On the other hand, Frau seems immune to heat – Frau always has to be dressed like a proper lady: brown shoes, stockings, brown skirt and coat, shirt and scarf, and her small brown purse to match the clothes. Frau’s clothes are a bit out of fashion, giving her an older allure, but Frau always looks decent, wearing the proper make-up, nail polish, earrings, bracelet and the pearl necklace.

I blink heavily, blinded by the eye-crushing strong golden light above the ground. I spot Richard climbing a bit faster than the rest of us, as if trying to shove between Olli and me. But Olli’s growl stops him for a second. Then Richard growls back at Olli, opens his mouth and jumps at his face, biting the base of his nose.

“Down, Richard!” Frau murmurs, pulling his leash.

Richard resumes his place again, and continues walking in the same pace as us, even if from time to time he emits these displeased hisses.

We get on the sidewalk and continue our way. We can’t smell it yet, but we’ve already sensed it in Frau’s thoughts and attitude: it’s Sunday, so we’re going to that big park.

Ah, the big park with thick and sweet scents of grass and leaves, with all those bugs and insects to chase around, with the cubs of humans playing and running all over the place, and, most of all, with the other dogs, just like us. The luring smell of rich vegetation, and, most important, of freedom from our leashes is sneaking into our nostrils, intoxicating us, making us quiver in expectancy of the promised happy time.

Our collars get jerked – we stop. We wait. We have to cross the street – howling metal monsters pass like insane flashing nightmares. When the road is empty, we start crossing it. Then, we stop again. Another stream where these screaming monsters run like insane. But it is there, the park, with all those promises of good things. It’s there, we have to get there, now, to run, now, to sniff those things and to…

My collar tightens its grip as I attempt to jump, followed by the others.

“Insane bitch!”

The yell lingers a bit behind the howling speeding monster.

I know it was meant to Frau. I turn my head to look at Frau. I know that expression on Frau’s face – young men these days don’t have manners at all!

I bow my head; Frau will punish me again for attempting to jump into the busy road.

Frau pulls the leashes and we start walking, away from the boiling heat and hot asphalt – to the park, under the cool shadows, drugged by the smell of green. We are welcomed by the joyful music of chirping birds, screams and laughter of children, whooshing sounds of leaves and strands of grass. A different world made of myriads of odd creatures crawling on the musky earth; and then there’s the soothing murmur of the water in the fountain placed in the center of the park.

We walk through the alleys, each of us stopping from time to time for a few seconds, to sniff different parts of the ground – yes this is the place, the leashes will be off and we’ll be allowed to run around. But we want to run now!

Chattering old women, a baby fell and it is crying now, a ball jumping on the pebbled alleys, boys running, and the roar of a skateboard – why are we still walking?

Frau stops only when she finds an empty bench, though. From beyond the trees aligned behind the bench come the sounds and the scents of others like us – I want to go there and check whom they are!

Frau takes a seat on the bench; in the process her hand crosses downward the back of her skirt, to make sure it won’t get wrinkled while she is sitting. I pull a bit, nervous; I want to go there, they must know who’s the boss here, whose territory this really is!

Frau puts the purse on the bench and starts to release Flake from his leash. Paul gets closer to Frau’s hands, sniffing Frau’s fingers as they open the lock on Olli’s leash. I quiver anxiously; I have to go there! Frau frees Richard from his leash, and then gets to Paul’s. I look into Frau’s blue eyes, as I’m expecting my turn.

I’m always the bigger one. I’m always the one winning the fights, the fearless one, my hot blood boiling in my veins, and the shape of my big muscles giving me this intimidating allure.

Click! My leash is off too!

I look again into Frau’s eyes, fixing them with my glare. But Frau’s stern glance brings me the bad news – no, the muzzle stays there!

I emit this sad sigh, followed by this irritated growl as the others rush through the trees to our playground; they run growling and groaning, jumping at each other and sniffing and checking the surroundings. I look again at Frau, but she has already straightened her back, she’s not even seeing me anymore. I start walking slowly to the playground, stopping from time to time, pretending to be interested by the contorted wooden snake that is a root from one of the trees, or by some strand of grass. My jaws are aching already; I want this muzzle off!

Once I get to that part where our kind is allowed to play, I run a bit among the others, growl at one, jump on another, but I’m not really in the mood. So, since I’ve shown who’s the strongest there, I walk lazily away. I get back to the bench; I stop in front of Frau and sigh again, saddened – please, take this muzzle off! I get even closer to Frau’s knees and my eyes try to meet her glance, but she’s avoiding my glare. I know what Frau is thinking of, Frau always thinks of that when she punishes me – someone told her that if she gets me neutered, I’ll become more docile. But Frau doesn’t want that; Frau is a loner and we are her only protection. Besides, Frau doesn’t want us tamed; Frau loves the wild side of us, since Frau’s own soul is trained into civilization. Since Frau wouldn’t ease her tight grip on her own instincts, Frau prefers to have us with our primitive and dark ways.

I growl and push Frau’s leg with my forehead. Frau’s long fingers with red painted nails run through my hair. Frau can figure what I’m going through right now, but I’m still punished!

~ To Be Continued ~
- 25
- 26
- 27
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KAAMOS (A Tale For Grown-up Kids)