Tyler's Smirking Revenge.

[ Side note: My first adult fan fict., enjoy, and be gentle. Reviews appreciated. The characters, do not belong to me, they are the brillant Chuck Palahniuk's work of art. Thanks. ]

“Tyler Durden, Sir.” Even though Tyler’s gone, he’s still here. “What is it?” I say. “Don’t call me Tyler, man.” Looking back at me, with what was once two beautiful blue eyes, although now only one and a half, was the platinum blond Angel Face. “Sorry, Sir. We need to know what to do next. Project Mayhem is in a dilemma.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you guys do. Fight Club is over as far as I’m concerned.” Sitting back in a chair at the head of the table, back at the Paper Street house, I put two fingers to the whole in the left side of my face, right below my cheekbone. It wasn’t bleeding anymore. It was just now a whole that I could fit my entire middle finger through. It was Tyler’s mark, his second one at that. His death mark was in the side of my face. His birthmark on the back of my hand. Tyler’s kiss and Tyler’s blow whole. There’s no getting rid of him.

“But, Sir--” The stitches in his angelic face seemed to hurt him as he strained to talk to me with preservation and competence. He would continue on with Fight Club if he could, but he didn’t have the skill that Tyler did. I don’t even have those skills and right now the kid still thinks that I’m Tyler. “I’m done here.” I shook my head. Angel Face stood stock still at the other end of the wooden table, his fists pressing down harshly on top of it, staring at me through those clobbered eyes. “Did you here what I said? Tyler Durden is gone! You all can fuck off now.”

Of course it wasn’t as easy as that. Tyler Durden was now legend. Within men who’s faces were as broken and split and stitched and bleeding and bashed as mine, Tyler Durden lives on. Not that my still being alive help any.

I left Angel face at the table before he could even say another word or turn to leave. Right into my nauseating old bedroom I went, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about how I need to call Marla. Marla. Marla. Marla. Tyler had fucked Marla. I heard it all going on. And I didn’t even feel a thing.

I am Jack’s utter sense of loneliness.

Every time I slept I could never remember dreaming about anything at all, but this time I did. As I drifted away beneath half-closed lids I heard Tyler’s voice for the first time in weeks.

“I say evolve and let the chips fall where they may.”

It was just a soft whisper, but it rung like a bell between my ears. Then as if looking through the crack of a door into Tyler’s bedroom, I saw him standing their with both hands on each side of Ricky’s head. “This not a weekend retreat!” Slap across the side of his head. “Now get outta here … god damned space monkey.” Ricky rubbed the side of his head and walked off, out of the room brushing past Angel face who had been standing in the corner. His face was intact and glowing handsomely, not destroyed like it had been after I got a hold on him.
I walked further into the room that was now perfectly empty. Tyler turned his head looking directly into my eyes but not seeing me at all. “Close the door.”
“What? Who—me?” I said. Angel Face nearly walked through me, but I dodged him as went to shut the door. Okay, so I was invisible.
“This is going to hurt you more than it’ll hurt me.” Tyler laughed, throwing his red blazer across the bed. “Live a little, man. Then let go. That’s the first step to hitting bottom.”
“What the hell is going on…?” I mumbled, crossing my arms loosely over my chest. “…Now if that doesn’t sound familiar.”

Grabbing Angel Face from the belt strap, he practically lifted him off of his feet and sent his back slamming into the nearest wall. With one hand still around his belt, he let a free hand hold Angel Face at the jaw line. The young man’s body became tense, his eyes closing tightly, almost fearful. Tyler then gently forced his head to turn to one side so that he would bare his neck to him, placing a kiss against his pale skin. Angel’s held breath escaped him, and his body slightly relaxed as Tyler went at his jeans.

Unbuckling them and sliding them down to the ankles, Tyler teased Angel Face’s already pulsating cock. Gradually he took his length in his mouth, stroking him slowly with lips until he engulfed him to the hilt. Quickening his pace on his cock, Angel Face’s body was pressed firmly into the wall with his hands clawing at the ripped grimy wallpaper, until he felt bold enough to place his hands on Tyler’s head. He stroked the other’s dirty blond hair and guided him as he moaned with pleasure.

Tyler fondled him with his hands, reaching, and sliding in his fingers from behind. One finger in, then two, pushing inside against his prostate. “Oh… god, Tyler…” Angel Face bit down harshly on his bottom lip, trying not to let out another moan, as Tyler removed his hands from behind and raced his fingers beneath Angel’s black shirt. Before his coming, Tyler let him go, and stood up, removing his shirt, as well as Angel Face’s, then undid his pair of pants.

Taking Angel Face by the wrists he pushed him further into the wall, where I’m sure, Angel Face could feel the hard tearing pieces of wallpaper and paint cutting into his backside. Moving a hand downward to spread Angel Face’s legs, Tyler lifted him, with the other arching his back, to give him better entrance.

Tyler shook his hips a little to get his pants down enough to pull out his cock, that was indeed, already hard, and ready to penetrate. Nuzzling his lips against his neck, and running his tongue along the other’s bottom lip. He entered his body without further warning.

My body was numb, staring at the both of them. Hearing the loud thrusts, of Tyler’s fucking. His grunting, his dominating power. Seducing both men and women alike. In and out, over and over, with his head thrown back, and Angel Face with his arms around his shoulders. Scratches on his back.

Just fucking, fucking, fucking.


I woke up as if from a nightmare. My body drenched in sweat, my pants wet with semen. “Ahhh, good God, Tyler. Fantastic! You’ve turned me into a fucking homosexual!”

Walking into the bathroom, to clean myself up I rubbed my eyes, and blindly reached for the towel on the rack. Nevertheless, it wasn’t there. I blinked several times to clear my vision. And looking up I saw right directly in front of me, with a razor in one hand and towel over his shoulders…

Tyler Durden.

My jaw dropped at the sight of him and I felt like I was going to suffer a panic attack He wasn’t looking my way, thank god. He was too busy being focused on his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, shaving off his goatee. He was still dressed in the same outrageous rock star get-up that I had last seen him in, minus the fur coat.

I began backing up slowly, talking to myself. Don’t. Say. Anything.

Too late.

Tyler turned his head over at me, “Hey, man.”He ran his fingers over the hair on his chin. “No, no…n-no. This isn’t real.” I stuttered with my words as Tyler grinned. I was out of there and down the stairs before he could say aynthing else.

When I got down to the kitchen, Angel Face was still seated at the table. Eyes focused on one imaginary spot in the center of the table. If only Tyler were just an imaginary spot.

“Why the hell are you still here? Didn’t I tell you to get the fuck out?”
“No, Sir. You told me to wait here until you returned. You said you had a new plan all figured out for Project Mayhem, Sir.” I could see Tyler’s form vibrant and smiling behind Angel Face. His figured seemed to blink on and off like a dying light bulb, then suddenly faded in and out until he was as clear and picture perfect as Angel Face at the table.

Abruptly, I passed out. ( Yes, that’s right, it’s called a changeover. )

Tyler had done it again.

I am Jack’s loss of brainpower, of jurisdiction.
I am Jack’s split psyche.
I am Jack’s lack of self-control.


Tyler Durden lives.


To be continued.