First section of a ruff draft of my short story

An introduction
 
I woke up today in a bit of a haze, my right hand tingling. I wrestled it out of the sheets to find my fingers turning a shade of blue from the electric cord wrapped around them. “Shit, I got to take better care of myself”, my thoughts roll in my head as I untangle my fingers from the cord, shaking the blood back into them. Now I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. I am not some desperate heroin addict that tied off with the lamp cord and passed out with the needle still hanging out of his arm. Well maybe you didn't think that but either way that's not me; although I do admit to the cord being a part of my ritual, a part of my addiction. Junkies are weak, they succumb to the inanimate. They are nothing like me, I succumb to nothing, or no one. For me the rush of my addiction is in being god, if only for a little while. Power over another is intoxicating.
 
She is so beautiful, think I'll keep her for a while and play some more! Stroking her hair I play back in my head the soft whimpers as she gives up and accepts her fate. Those eyes; on my god those eyes, they moved through every human emotion before she inhaled her last breath. “Shit, I almost forgot!” I pull the 3000 count linen off her still body, it's sexy to watch the silken flow of the sheet as it traces over her firm tits, across her soft skinned tummy and catches a little on the stubble of her not so freshly shave pubic mound. There she is, my girl, naked, and unashamed. I craw up over her and place my torso against hers. I get close, my face inches from her, I look into the dark pooled pupils of her blood shot eyes, my tongue slides into her mouth and parts her now cold lip. I loosen the electric cord and I let my body weight push the last breath out of her lungs. I inhale as I kiss her. I breathe in her last breath. I can feel her spirit leave her and enter my lungs “I am a succubus feeding on her.” I role over and collapse beside her, exhaling like a crack head on his first toke. The whole of the nights activities fresh in my mind, “fuck yes!” She has been my greatest joy, think I will keep her around for at least another fuck or two.
 
      My phone rings, shit. “Hello?” It's Larry my boss, crap I am late for work. “Jeremiah get your ass to work, your an hour late and we need to get ready for dinner or were gonna get our asses kicked”. Yes sir I reply, and like that, I am no longer god, damn it! “Well baby guess you'll be here tonight won't you? Now don't feel like you have to leave or anything, make yourself at home”,...I crack myself up!
Work is a miserable place, yea I am good at it, shit I can cook circles around Larry, like he ever cooks any more. I swear these cows come to the feed like the bell was rang at the barn, they make me sick. I guess I could be more cool with cooking if I wasn't in this town full of polygamist fucks, crap one family can fill half the dining room at once, can't stand those sick self righteous fucks. Priesthood Holder, my ass, just a sex addicted peckerwood using fear of god to control and manipulate everyone around him! I am not scared of you fuckers or your god!
 
Thoughts drift back to his childhood, Jeremiah was the child of a polygamist, he knew firsthand the tyrannical side of that life. Thomas (not deserving of the title dad, Jeremiah had not called him that since 12 yrs old.) was a 6'6" bear of a man who had no problem beating the shit out of his son, and emotionally shredding his wives and daughters. When Jeremiah caught dad jerking off one time, Thomas made him finish the job, told him if he told anyone about it they would excommunicate him for touching his father that way. That sick bastard, how many holes do you need to satisfy one cock. At the age of thirteen Thomas and his “brothers” kicked Jeremiah off the compound, he was a good looking kid, and some of the younger girls were starting to notice him. This would not due at all, as most of them were all ready designated to others by the profit.(more about that crazy bastard later) So that's Jeremiah, a lost boy, a chef, a polygamist in his own way.
 
Lori the dead girl back at his house was not the first. She shared this man with several more collected souls, all of them their last breath taken by him.
 
“Hey dumb ass, we got orders piling up!” Larry screams down the line to Jeremiah, “Wow how long was I gone?” jolted back to the present, Jeremiah  slams through the tickets with a speed and skill that lets the rest of the crew know he could be cooking any where he wanted. He didn't just cook, he had a singularness of focus that would allow him to tune out the rest of the planet and create a culinary orgasm on the plates he sent out. Even Larry new why the crowds came to his place, it wasn't the tired Chicken Parmesan that Larry claimed was the house special. Jeremiah’s nightly specials would be as much as sixty five percent of the sells on a good night. Larry was a good friend to Jeremiah. The closes thing to a real dad he had ever experienced. He was the only reason Jeremiah stayed in this fucked up town. Larry had been his savior when at the age of 13 he gave him a job and a place to live in the attic of the restaurant. Living the kitchen Jeremiah would spend all his down time learning and at thirteen with no life that's a lot of that down time. The volume of cooks that came and went gave him a skill set that most would confuse with a well traveled culinarian. For Jeremiah this was just a paycheck, and nothing more, but it afforded him a nice rent house of his own now and a descent set of wheels. He didn't cook the way he did because he loved cooking. He cooked that way because that's how he did everything. For Jeremiah it didn't matter if he was deboning a chicken, tearing down a side of veal, or dressing one of his loved ones for their final resting place under the house, all was done with meticulous detail and respect for the dead in his hands. Jeremiah found power in death it reminded him he was the living result of a greater fate, he saw no more reason for remorse towards a chicken carcass on his cutting board than he did for the firm titted Lori laying cold in his bed, although he had to admit she had provided much more in the way of fond memories. Time flies and the restaurant closes, as they leave the crew walks out of the kitchen, all of them rolling around in the adrenaline of a great night. Some bragging about this dish, others or of that interaction with a hot waitress others counting tips. The crew, most of them now lost boys as well. Larry and Jeremiah had slowly turned the restaurant into a halfway house for the ever growing community in exile and why not all of them seemed to have a great work ethic. As the moved to their cars, they beg Jeremiah to go with them to shoot pool, teasing him about that hottie he picked up there last night, “I can't believe you can pick up a passerby like that, freak she was hot.” “Is she still there or did you get her to the bus stop like you promised? Shit! She is still there isn't she that's why you won't go shoot pool.” laughing as they all loaded into two cars, over crowed they stuffed themselves in “You go brother!” Jeremiah has learned to accept his role as leader of this pack of misfits and he advises as he gets in his own car, “hey, you guys behave, remember no fights, no chemicals, just beer and weed!” and with that he parts ways with his admirers to go home and finish his courtship with Lori. For the ritual is not done yet, but that will wait a little while longer, cause he has one hell of a hard on for her right about now, gonna burn all that build up adrenaline. Sex after that long of a time can be messy, but it's worth to Jeremiah, after all, he likes the whole rag doll thing.
 
Three AM after a shower and it's time to put her away, good thing he keeps a place prepped cause Lori was not planned, she kinda fell into his lap so to speak. Hair braided and mouth sewn shut, she lay’s in the slot of soil dried flower petals and a dusting of lime powder settles over her like a shroud fine linen reserved for the elite of the church. He sits cross legged looking down at her from the edge of her grave, her whitened skins turns flesh again in the spots where his tears wash away the lime powder. “Baby, you know I love you but you gotta stay here and keep your mouth shut till I join you girls.” Wanting to kiss her, he knows better from past experience, that lime taste like crap! So he begins to place her earthen blanket over her for now she will be sealed to him, sealed to his afterlife in hell. He takes a break for the labor of moving the earth over her. Goes upstairs where he places the last of her possessions in the firepit in the back yard and watches them burn he peels off his shirt and throws it on the fire as well, he cries as he realizes that all he has left of her now is a memory, and for all his best efforts she will start to fade with time just as the others have. How long before the memory's are so far removed he has to do it again? His first love was with him for many years, the missing posters, the yearly news reports, hell, it's been 5 years and he still gets to see her on occasion. Tina's family don't give up easy! But Lori she was a drifter like Naomi and they are much harder to hold on to.
 
Naomi, she was a good girl. She was at the house for almost a week before he felt that she was going to leave. They all want to leave at some point. Most will want to leave when they are done fucking. They don't realize the spiritual nature of taking his seed, Jeremiah is a Priesthood Holder in my own right, just to a different god.” Jeremiah new when he came inside them, the new life would be his child! How could he let them enter this fucked up world after what he had been through. There will be a place and time when he will be able to care of all his family, a place where he will reach his full potential; it will be when he faced his judgment, when he let lose his wrath at this god of his sperm donor Thomas! This god of his fathers has to be week and feeble if he allows men like Thomas to be what they were without any judgment or consequence. As the anger welled up in Jeremiah he ran back down stairs and finished his work, the dirt filled in over Lori at a fevered pitch, before he knew it he was done, he place the silk flowers he stole from the grave yard over her to mark her place with the other girls, even the graves showed his eye for detail you would have thought it was Arlington for the uniform look in such a small space. He fell asleep with soil from the grave coating his shirtless chest, exhausted from the roller coaster of emotions, his night with his new bride.
 
As he took a shower that morning he watched the soil swirl run from his chest down his legs and into the drain, the last remnants of his time with her on this earth washing way. He longs to feel her flesh one more time, but he won’t, he knows better. He had made the mistake of revisiting Tina once, only three days after he laid her to rest he dug her up but it ruined his memory of her, she was distorted from the person he had so cared for in her sealing. She was dirty and disfigured, he had to turn her away and fuck her from behind. Not again. You learn things as you travel a path, things that no one prepares you for, it is a messy business at first; even with control and some skill handling the dead as a chef, this process, chaotic, undisciplined at first. Then you grow your skill, you apply discipline and ritual, it becomes beautiful. It becomes an exchange of life force, “my seed in her womb, her last breath devoured, her soul to my eternity.”
 
The shower starts to turn cold, this is Jeremiah’s life he either has a total focus on the task at hand, or gets completely lost in his head. It makes for a less than easy person to get to know which is fine with him. He is a shell of a human, action and distraction with not much in between and no desire to have friends. Arm length acquaintances are enough to look normal, to hide the dark soul dwelling within this fleshly form. He walks around the house board after the last two days of excitement. The crash after taking a life leave him depressed for a day or two. He decides to write some menus and get lost in work.
 
In the weeks that followed, Jeremiah had a settled feel to his daily living, this was pretty normal after an the taking of a soul like Lori’s, she had proven to be his most prized catch to date. She was beautiful, almost a hippy, but with a little more grounding in the real world. He was glad to have spent that evening with her talking in the pool hall before taking her home to her place in his kingdom family. It's funny, she had spent less time with him than Naomi but he felt more connection in the short time with Lori than the week with Naomi, maybe Lori just didn't have time to show her flaws? Either way he was still enjoying his memory of her no matter how short it had been. What would it be like to actually get to know the whole of a person. If with them long enough would they see his flaws too, would they run from the intensity of his love for them, from the great burden of his plan? Could he ever share his plan with someone, would they stay and help him if he did? How would it be to have a partner in this collecting of his kingdom family?
 
It was no longer weeks, it was months since Lori and he missed the rush, the power of watch a life go silent through their eyes as he told them they would be ok, that he was there for them. He rolled through these thoughts as he drove down this dead stretch of Route 66. He was heading to an abandoned motel, the kind with the individual cabins, the “Sunset Inn” to be precise, with its overgrown parking lot and semi circle of cabins; a handmade rock fountain in the center of the court, this place held a secret. The fountain now full of cactus, also held the bones of his first kill. No that was not Tina, she was his first love, but this is where he had his first kill. ((He was seventeen; he had been out there drinking with Jake a 35 year old cook from Larry's place. Larry had given Jake a break as he had just got out of prison a few months back. Jeremiah had no clue what Jake had been in for. He never really talked about his “time”. They ended up out at the hotel after work one night. A bottle of J.W Kent and a two liter of diet rite cola, they slammed it back as they raced to their buzz. Jeremiah liked Jake, he didn't have to talk too much, Jake was cool just to hang. It was about an hour into the “party” and the fifth of cheap whiskey was gone. Jeremiah was lying on the warm hood of the car. The stars are so much more visible out there than in the city. Man he was so hammered its hard to look at then when the whole world is spinning. Jeremiah sat up to settle his head that's when he noticed Jake was not around, Jeremiah figure he was either off puking or pissing, one or the other. It was easy to hear Jake in the silence of the secluded night, Jeremiah laughed as he walked up on the cabin, he could hear Jake moaning from the hard liquor tearing him up, Jeremiah kicked open the door of the cabin ready to bust his balls for not holding his liquor. But to Jeremiah shock Jake was jerking off, Jake looked at Jeremiah and didn't stop, instead he motioned him over to him with a smile on his face, holding his cock out like a trophy for Jeremiah to take hold of. Jeremiah let lose all the rage he had felt for Thomas, and not been able to act out at such a young age. He ran at Jake so hard that when he crushed him into the wall it broke through the lathe and plaster and they hit the exterior rock, it knocked the wind out of them both. Dust swirled around them as they gasp for air. Jeremiah regained composure first being the aggressor but Jake had lived hard and was seasoned from prison life. As Jeremiah got up, Jake started to fight back with no opponent in reach, he got his hands on Jeremiah and slammed him into the stove of the kitchenette. He bent Jeremiah over the now leaning stove and placed himself on top Jeremiah, he felt helpless like a traded under Jakes weight. Jake started to rip Jeremiah’s pants off, whispered in his ear, “you need to relax son, it will hurt less if you relax.  I swear, I am going to love working tomorrow knowing that tonight you were my bitch” as Jake stepped back to undo his own pants he tripped on the rusty box spring frame long missing its mattress in the middle of the floor As he fell he but his hands back to stop the fall and stabbed part of the twisted steel rig threw his right hand like the hand of the crucified. How ironic was that, him being a right hand jerk off and all. As Jake struggle to master his pain as he tried to work his hand off the rusted jagged steel, its edges acted like a barbed fish hook holding is catch on the line. Jeremiah watched for a bit as he calmly pulled up his pants, this massive piece of evil struggling to free himself from his impalement. Jeremiah had an adrenaline rush pumping through his veins but stayed in control, for the first time in his life he has a focus, a confidence to him, he knew he was going to kill Jake. He had a calm that comes from knowing you’re righteous in your actions. He looked around the room for a bit looking for the right tool for the job, like looking for the right knife to butcher a tide of beef, the shuffled his foot forward and it rolled over a lamp cord, now free of its purpose  the lamp long ago shattered. He knelt down and took it in hand with a tug jerked from the outlet in the wall. He doubled the cord for strength as he stepped in behind Jake who was now on his knees trying to manipulate his wound to freedom. Jake stood there for a moment watching for no other reason than to let himself know that he was truly in control of this. For the first time in his life he was going to be the more powerful man. He crouched behind Jake, lifted his hands and quickly dropped the cord over Jakes head. With all the force this wiry seventeen year old could muster, he pulled the cords and Jake back onto him so hard that it caused them both to hit the floor. Jakes hand sliced up the steel ribbon splitting his hand until it had to distinct sections on of two fingers, and the other the remaining fingers and thumb. Blood flowed from Jakes hand like the old fountain flowed with water so many years ago. As he fought to get free Jake gasp and groaned then before Jeremiah knew it, Jake was still and silent. The only sounds hear, that of
Jeremiah’s own breathing, labored under the weight of Jakes now limp body. Jeremiah didn't let go, he kept the cords tight for what seems like an eternity. When he finally let go he's hands ached as he worked his way out from under the corpse on top of him, he felt like he had never felt before, the adrenaline pumped through him making every sense as sharp as a razor. He noticed the smell of whiskey on his breath, the sound of his own heart in his ears, his pulse racing in his temple. He was victorious. He stood over the lifeless mass that should have been his superior, that should have been able to keep his promise to Jeremiah, but that is not what happened, that is not how destiny had decided this should end. As Jeremiah worked through it all, playing it back like a rewound movie over and over again, he became convinced the there had to have been a supernatural intervention, that somehow in the course of this war with this sick fuck, he had been touched by God, well not the god of the church, Satan?,....unclear, but whatever deity consumed him, it was now a part of him and he would never feel the same.
 
Jake as massive size now limp and lifeless was beyond Jeremiah’s ability to move, so over the next several hours Jeremiah butchered him down to manageable size parts for disposal. And took to field behind the old hotel where he used to build bonfires. If there has ever been a butchers chart for human flesh, Jeremiah must have studied it. His close soaked in blood, he stripped down naked and placed them in the pile with the disassembled Jake and started a fire with gas siphoned from the car to burn up the evidence. It almost seemed like an offering to him. As the dark of night started to give way to the predawn blues He drove home, in the cool air, windows down on the car, buck naked. The cold air invigorated him, he felt so powerful, as he drove one handed the other fond his cock, how hard from all the excitement, he jerked off cuming on the floor mat as he drove home, he had not allowed himself to touch himself like that since Thomas had molested him.
 
The whole experienced had left him feeling on top of the world!
He got up the next morning got dressed and went down the circle stair case to get to work in the kitchen. Larry was spitting nails, Jake had pulled a no show, “that fucking prick” Larry barked as he slammed through the prep list he had left for Jake “fucking child molesting prick, wait till I call hi P.O., he won't think it's funny when he's sitting in county waiting to see the judge.” A week past and no one ever mentioned a fire out at the old hotel, not surprising since there was nothing around it for miles. Jeremiah drove out on a day off to take a look, good thing he did too, the fire and burned the body well enough, but there were still bones, and the cabin, the cabin was looked like a close quarters red paint ball war, he collected the bottles from the night of drinking. Jeremiah knew he had been lucky to not get caught, he cleaned up the scene then he dug down into the fountain and placed Jakes bones in it. He cover them and stopped to cool off thinking that this was a sacred place, blood sacrifice had been made here. Jakes death had given Jeremiah new life. He torched the cabin as the sun set and stayed all night watching it burn.))