Gender: Male Age: 35 Location: Somewhere in my head........
An author takes his invalid mother with him to live in an old house located on the outskirts of a small town, away from the big city. The community and local law enforcement make it clear to the author that living in that house is a bad idea. The following text contains supernatural horror and sex.
Written by Norton5
The minivan stopped outside the old, weathered, vine-entangled house. Frank Price got out of the driver's side and opened the side passenger door. Inside was a highly advanced life support system and sick bed all rolled into one unit. Resting in this unit was his mother, Jane. It looked like something out of science fiction. More specifically, Frank recalled the art in an X-Men comic book illustrating Professor Charles Xavier in a similar-looking unit, except this one was black and it wasn't hovering unsupported two feet above ground/floor.
Reaching in, Frank pulled down the side door ramp. After that, he carried out a portable, make-shift ramp that went over the stairs leading up to the old house's porch. The unit carrying Jane moved as Frank had taken the remote control from its holder and began pressing keys. It descended the ramp gracefully and ascended the second ramp just as well. The unit had cost a fortune - more than half of the proceeds from the sales of his last published work, which was a collection of short stories he had originally written for an online fiction magazine.
As Frank entered the house, he caught the smell of anti-septic and something else that the cleaning service had used to make the interior suitable for living. Frank had ordered this done the previous week. Altogether, the house was better on the inside than the outside.
He manipulated the controls on the unit's remote until his mother was resting near a window, where the rays of the afternoon sun streaked into the house. To get the air circulating, Frank opened this window and the rest of the windows of the house in the ground floor, top floor, and lastly, the basement.
It took nearly an hour to move all the things from the minivan, and connected trailer behind it, into the house. As he was moving things, Frank noticed that a few cars had stopped by on the main road at different times. Their drivers stared at him as he hauled his belongings into his new abode. Some of them, trying to be discrete, stopped where the trees on either side of the eighty-yard, dirt driveway bordered the main road and the old house, thinking that the trees would prohibit the new guy from seeing them. But Frank could see them just fine, though, he didn't mind because he figured they were only curious locals wanting to memorize his face, beginning the process of communal familiarity.
When he had moved everything inside the house, Frank heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. It came up the driveway. (The old house was on a gently rising hill that curved down to the main road.) The vehicle turned out to be white truck with "Atwill Police" in bold italics accompanying all the usual police vehicle markings. An officer with red hair stepped out of the truck and walked a few feet to where Frank stood.
"Hey, there, Mr. ...?"
"Price. Frank Price."
The officer put out his hand and Frank shook it.
"I'm Sheriff John Chaney, but you can call me Sheriff. Could I call you 'Frank'?
"Please, do. How can I help you, Sheriff?"
"Oh, I was just driving by and saw you loading your stuff into this-"
It was a split second, but Frank caught something ominous in the brief pause.
"-old house. Everything okay? All your things settled in?"
"Yeah, I was just about to lock up my trailer."
Sheriff Chaney nodded his head downward and said, "You go on and lock it up. You might forget. I forget to do a lot of things when people interrupt me. Go ahead, lock it."
It took almost over five seconds to lock the trailer because the sky had become considerably darker, but not dark enough to where Frank couldn't discern the shape of the lock.
The sheriff asked, "Is it just you who will be living here?"
"No," said Frank, after hearing the lock click into place. He turned to face the sheriff. "My mother's inside. She'll be living with me. Well, actually, I'll be taking care of her... She's an invalid."
"Oh," said the sheriff, nodding at receiving this new information. "We have a decently staffed and equipped nursing home on the north end of town. If things become too hectic for you, they'd be happy to take her in. I'll make a call to the head of staff there, just so they know. In case of any uh..."
"Thanks, Sheriff. But for now, I'll be looking after her."
The sheriff made an open gesture. "Whatever. Your call. What's your mother's name?"
The sheriff muttered her name softly as if it would ring a bell, or he was just memorizing it for future reference. Frank began to wonder where the sheriff kept his notebook, if he ever needed to take notes.
"Well, I'll leave you in peace, Frank." He drew a pen and paper from his utility belt and wrote before handing the paper to Frank. Two sets of numbers were carefully and boldly written on the paper. "That's the station number and my personal phone number. Call me if the need arises." He paused and made a quick scan of the area without turning his head. "Or if you feel jumpy because of .... anything."
Frank nodded, folding the paper once and putting it in his back pants pocket. "Thank you, Sheriff."
"No problem. You have a nice evening, Frank." He nodded and got back to his vehicle.
Frank watched as the police truck turned and drove down the hill, away from his house, and on to the main road.
* * * * *
In the three hours that followed, Frank cleaned his mother, replaced the intravenous pack in her unit, showered, fixed supper, ate it, worked on his next publication, and once every hour, checked on the unit to make sure it was working. He was still paranoid about the machine and didn't want his mother to die because of some random, hardware glitch.
It was when he was nearing the completion of the first chapter of his book that he thought he heard something. He stayed still for several seconds, listening, but heard nothing. (Frank worked in a room on the top floor of the house, with a pile of his bedding stuff in the adjacent room, while he decided that his mother would remain on the ground floor in the living room, encased in her life support and resting unit.) The sudden knocking on the front door jerked him abruptly out of writing mode and almost caused his heart to jam in his throat. The knocking continued as Frank made his way down the stairs, to the front door.
"Yes, yes, coming." He opened the door and almost gaped at the second most beautiful woman he had ever seen with his own two eyes. (Technically, she would be the first most beautiful, since the other one was seen in his dreams, and not actually with his eyes.) "Hi."
"Hi," said the long, curly-haired brunette with amber-brown eyes, in her early twenties. She had a slight amount of freckles on her face and full lips that were pink and naturally sad. But at the moment, her eyes showed wonder and her lips were in a friendly-neutral smile. Frank gave a quick glance over the delightful creature in front of him and also glimpsed a blue Mustang parked behind his trailer. She wore brown boots, light blue jeans, and a deep red, cotton sweater. He awarded himself points for not getting an erection yet, or maybe he had a problem with his dick and needed to see the doctor soon.
Again, Frank said, "Hi," and "Anything I can help you with?"
Her voice was that sleepy, soft throaty type. She said, "No, it's just that I was driving by on my way into Atwill and I noticed the lights on in here."
Frank grinned slightly. "Yeah, people turn on the lights in their houses when it grows dark in the early evening. It can seem strange, if you've been living on another planet."
She gave him a smile that said, "Okay, nice joke, but I've heard funnier ones."
"I'm sorry. I'm in the middle of writing a book. You sort of disrupted my state of, er..."
"Whatever they call it."
"I'm Amanda, by the way. Amanda Karloff."
"Hey, I've heard that name before. Aren't you an-"
"Author, yes, and you’re an author too. How neat is that?”
She offered her hand and they shook.
Amanda held up an index finger. "I remember seeing that name online in an eBook catalog somewhere."
"That would probably be my third book - the one titled 'Contraband Commandos'." He shrugged. "Macho guy fiction. Brainless entertainment."
She giggled. "Hey, it takes effort to write anything. Oh, now I remember the cover of the eBook. It had two outrageously, muscular guys in paramilitary gear, shouldering massive guns, and four scantily-clad, guerrilla, soldier babes in the middle of the jungle. The tag line was 'The only contraband getting past these guys is the female kind, but-"
"'Not before they check it out'", said Frank, finishing it for her. "Yeah, that one came to me in a dream. Is there something that you needed help with, or are you just here for a writer-to-writer conversation? I don't want to be rude, but..."
"It's just that, well, this place is said to be haunted, and the last four families who lived here didn't stay long. Each of the families one day just packed up and left without a word. All of this in the space of nine months."
"Huh." Frank made the tisk tisk sound and said, "I hope the ghosts don't try to kick me out. I just moved in, not to mention the money I spent purchasing this place. I'm even thinking of doing some renovation."
"Okay. Just thought you should know. I live in Atwill, by the way. Might see you from time to time."
"Yeah, we might."
She smiled, backing away door. "Nice meeting you, Frank."
"It was a pleasure, Amanda." Frank smiled and thought he saw a seductive gleam in her eyes.
Reaching the end of the porch, Amanda waved her fingers in parting at Frank, and walked toward her car. "Goodnight," she called over her shoulder.
"Goodnight." And he added in his thoughts, I really hope to see you soon.
* * * * *
Frank had fallen asleep on his keyboard after an hour and a half of typing. He was awakened by a tapping noise on his window. Lifting his head up slowly from the writing table, he looked and saw a figure tapping on the window glass. Still in the state of dreaming-not-dreaming, he thought he was looking at one of the local kids trying to scare the new resident by spooking him through the window with his/her face painted white to resemble, what they thought was, a ghost. But in two seconds, his mind snapped into full consciousness and he realized that the figure tapping at his window wasn't a kid.
It was a naked woman, haggardly shaped, with skin as white as paper, gray hair, solid black eyes, two black horns protruding out of her forehead, and a white, broad-tipped tail waving sinisterly behind her. As if realizing that he was fully awake, she gave a terrifying shriek that shot a jolt of terror into Frank's body. He screamed in fright, jumping out of his chair, and collapsing onto the floor. The woman turned to the left and fled from the window. There was a bush of dark, spidery, leafless branches growing out of her back. Several of these branches brushed against the window as the woman went, making a scraping sound and leaving a streaked pattern of scratches on the window.
Frank's eyes were fixed wide open on the window as he crawled and backed up against the opposite wall. His heart pounded hard and fast and his body shivered. He remembered his mother and dashed out of the room, down the stairs, and into the living room.
Rushing to where he had put her, Frank saw that Jane's unit looked in perfect condition and she seemed untouched - except for her forearms that now each had an ugly, jagged cut running down to her wrists. Her arms had been propped on the outer edges of the unit by someone - or something - and now a red pool was rapidly forming under the unit. The off-putting, metallic smell of blood hit Frank badly. "Mom!" he shouted.
His mind was a whir of panicked nonsense, until he grasped one thought: the sheriff's number in his back pocket.
* * * * *
At the Atwill Community Hospital, the doctor came out of the emergency room to speak to Frank. She told Frank that his mother was going to be alright, but would be staying at the hospital for at least two days, until she was healthily stable enough to be released.
Sheriff Chaney had responded quickly after receiving Frank's call, leading the emergency charge to the old house with his police truck in front and the ambulance following hard on his wheels. After stabilizing the loss of blood, the paramedics had moved Jane into the ambulance, still encased in the resting unit, and had immediately begun working on other things relating to her health Frank didn't know anything about. The sheriff had given him a lift to the hospital in his car and had asked him questions about what had happened. Frank didn't hold back anything; he told the sheriff everything that had happened since the sheriff had left him in the early evening to the moment he called him. It was now 12:40 AM.
"Thank you," said Frank, taking the cup of hot black coffee from the sheriff, as he sat in a chair, in the hospital waiting hall.
The sheriff sat in the next chair to his right. Leaning over toward Frank, he said, "Listen, Frank. I should've told you this earlier on when we first met, but I didn't want to sound like a superstitious yokel."
"Tell me what?" More dread began to fill his heart.
"That house you're living in. It has a history of strange, and sometimes, horrible incidents."
The sheriff adjusted his buttocks in the seat and straightened his posture. "When that house was first built, like a hundred years ago, the owner died - never got to live in it - and a family moved in. Back then, my grandfather Don was the sheriff of Atwill. He investigated the death of the owner and found it to be of natural causes. The man didn't eat a balanced diet and died of malnutrition." Sheriff Chaney rolled his eyes and continued. "It was when that family started living in the house that eerie, unexplainable things began to occur. Deaths, mutilation, rape, incest. They were a close-knit bunch, and back in those days, people kept pretty much to themselves. They still do now, but not so much with the government looking over your shoulder and everything."
"What was the name of the family?"
"Zucco. The couple's names were Bernard and Beatrice. They had five daughters and four sons. Can't remember each of their names, but it's all in the town records, if you ever get curious.
"Those Zucco kids made the entire surrounding forest their own playground and did whatever they pleased. Animal torture, bullying and injuring any town children they met. Even played their own-" The sheriff coughed "sex games. A really twisted childhood. Town residents passing by the house said they sometimes saw the daughters with baby bumps. It could've been the brothers or their father. No one knew much about the Zuccos."
"Did they ever kill anybody?"
"A few children went missing. Some of the adults swore they'd been attacked by demons while hiking through the woods. This spawned a theory that the Zucco family engaged in so much evil that they had the power to transform into hideous, sub-human, forest creatures."
"Like vampires and werewolves?"
"No, but that creature you said you saw tonight would be a good description."
"So is the house I'm living in certifiably haunted?"
"I'm no expert on such matters, but as far as everyone in this town is concerned, yeah, you're living in a haunted house."
Frank didn't say anything for a minute.
The sheriff said, "I could put you up in a motel nearby for one night."
"No, that's okay, Sheriff. I'll go back to the house."
Frank was driven back to the old house in a police cruiser. He thanked the two officers, who said they would be parked outside his house until seven in the morning.
Frank fell asleep on the living room couch, cuddling a metal baseball bat.
* * * * *
The following morning showed no sign that last night had been a terrifying ordeal for Frank. It was warm and sunny outside. The window in the room upstairs still showed the scratches made by the dark, spidery branches from the hag's back. Ghosts couldn't have made that scratch, thought Frank. This creature is real.
At 8:23, he drove to the grocery store in Atwill. There he found a wide variety of fruits and vegetables, all locally grown. Frank began filling a shopping basket. He heard two girls talking and saw from the corner of his vision that they were both good-looking teenagers with nice young curves. One of them had long blonde hair and the other had short, inch-above-her-shoulder, brunette hair. He sensed their eyes on him as he felt a peach in his hand before putting it in the basket he carried.
They were much closer now and looking directly at him with friendly smiles.
"Hello, young ladies."
The blonde took charge of the interrogation. "Are you the guy who's living in the haunted house outside of town?"
"News travels fast here, doesn't it? Yeah, I'm that guy."
"We heard about what happened last night. Sorry about it all. Is your mother gonna be okay?" The blonde was sincerely concerned, as was her friend.
"She's in a stable condition. Be out of the hospital in a day or two."
"If you've got nothing else to do this evening, my friend and I would like to invite you to the football game. We attend Atwill High School here in town and our football team, the Psychos, will be going up against the Lugosi High School Bats. Our schools have been football rivals since ancient times, so this game's gonna be a big one."
"We're also cheerleaders," added the brunette.
"I'm Stella Cushing and this is my buddy Crystal Lee," said the blonde.
Frank shook hands with the two girls, liking the feel of their young hands in his. "Frank. Nice to meet you two. And I might take you up on that invitation."
"Great. See you tonight, Frank." They both headed toward the cashier with their basket of things. Frank watched their graceful young bodies move and focused on their upper legs, bottoms, and hips. Perfection, he thought. Shifting his shopping basket to his other hand, he felt the tough plastic hit his groin. He grunted in pain and looked down, seeing that his cock was erect and making an all-too-visible bulge in his pants. Hah, still got it.
After grocery shopping, Frank drove to the local bookstore and perused the books on the shelves. None of his books were on display here, but he stopped by the fantasy section. In the supernatural romance sub-category, Frank spotted copies of Amanda Karloff's published works. Picking up one of the books, he looked at the front cover briefly before turning it to view the back cover for the synopsis.
"Something told me I'd find you here." Amanda stood there, smiling at ease.
Frank's heart rate went up a notch. "Good morning, Amanda. I'm just looking at one of your books. I like the cover art."
"I got one of my friends from my college days to do the cover art for all my books. He's making a fortune now, not just from what he does for me, but for other publications as well.
"What do you think of the book?"
"Well, I haven't read it yet."
"It's a series, so I'd recommend you start with the first book." She picked out the book and handed it to Frank. He purchased the entire series. Amanda walked and talked him to his car. She hadn't heard yet of what had transpired in the night, and was shocked to hear it when he told her.
"Oh, my! That is just freaky. And you still spent the night in the house, after all that?"
"Cop car parked outside, which was enough for me to be brave about the entire incident."
"Still…" She huffed with a gloomy expression, and then perked up suddenly, smiling. "Care to have a really, early lunch with me at my place?"
Caught off guard, yet pleasantly surprised, Frank said, "Uh, sure."
Amanda's residence was located two thirds of a mile branching off from the main street, where most of the town's businesses were located. Frank parked his minivan behind her blue and white-striped Mustang.
The first thing Frank noticed when he entered Amanda's dwelling was the mirrors. She had mirrors put up on the walls everywhere, but strategically placed so that she wouldn't see infinite reflections. Only the floor and ceiling didn't have any.
"What's with the mirrors?" Frank looked at one and saw himself: blonde, bluish gray eyes, lines on his face that looked like cracks on a stone mountain; mid-forties; brown button shirt, dark blue jeans, and tennis shoes. What was he doing here, in a young woman's house, having lunch with her alone? Memories of the only romantic relationship he almost had in high school came back to him. Am I making up for that now? Is the universe rewarding me? Or am I just going to be treated to a nice meal by a woman-girl who simply thinks of me as a fellow writer?
"The mirrors? Appropriate question. I'm paranoid, Frank, for safety reasons. Always thinking that someone's going to sneak into my house and surprise me from behind with evil intentions. That's why the mirrors - I'll always have eyes at the back of my head in my own house." She gave herself two thumbs up and went into the kitchen. "Come on, Frank. Help me in here and we can get the food ready. Sorry to make you work like this."
Frank followed her into the kitchen. "It's okay." There was a picture on her refrigerator of a cheerleader squad in the usual figure-hugging gear. "Is that you?" He pointed to one of the girls.
Removing food wrapping, she looked over. "Yeah, that's me. I was a high school cheerleader. Not at Atwill High. My family used to live in Lugosi, before I went to college and moved into Transil city. Black and gray are Lugosi colors. The Bats. After I found success with my books, I wanted to move back to a small town, but I had too many not-so-nice memories in Lugosi, so I settled for the next thing, which was Atwill." She handed him a pack of frozen, diced vegetables and told him to microwave it with the printed settings and timing on the back.
"I was a cheerleader for only a month or two. Not a long time, because the girls in the squad back then were so full of shit. Couldn't stand it, so I quit and invested my leisure time into reading and writing. I always had an interest in literature."
Frank looked at the veggie pack spinning slowly in the microwave. "And now you're a successful writer and those other girls are...?"
Amanda handed him a cold bottle of Vault. "Successful, but at what things, I do not know. Successful waitresses, successful bartenders, successful secretaries, successful fry cooks, successful hookers."
Taking on a philosophical tone, Frank said, "Hookers have a noble profession. They make people happy and get paid for their humanitarian efforts. Waitresses and secretaries get paid to annoy people with mistaken orders and mishandling of important information." Frank smiled and kept his eyes fixed on the microwave, but slowly turned his head to meet Amanda's hard gaze. She had a stony expression that disappeared abruptly as she burst out laughing.
They ate on the couch in the living room - lunch being a mash-up of meat, potatoes and vegetables washed down with more Vault.
"You don't entertain a lot of guests, do you?"
"What gave me away?"
"The plastic plates and forks we're using," said Frank as he took a forkful of broccoli, lettuce, and beef.
Amanda giggled. "Yeah. Well, I'm a writer and mostly an introvert. I primarily interact with people when I need information for my books. And I don't need to see them in my house. I got legs and a fast car. I can see them wherever else they like."
Frank swallowed what he had been masticating. "Mm, the car. When did you get it?"
"After the second book in my series sold out big. I had the white stripes added by the dealership, right after I purchased it."
They finished up and Amanda simply tossed the plastic bottles, forks, and plates into a waste bin near the entrance to the kitchen. Returning to the couch, she saw Frank leafing through a book with a dark blue cover and recognized it.
"I've only been gone for three seconds and you're reading my personal diary already?" She snatched the book off Frank and put it back down on the low table where it had been before. Moving over, she left no space on the couch between herself and him. "So how many of my deep, nasty secrets did you manage to read?"
"I only read the first line of the first page. It said something about how you had writer's block and seriously considered going on a vandalism spree to clear your head. Did you actually do that?"
Amanda had an almost guilty smile on her face. "No, I did not. I just laid back, watched a few television shows, planted some flowers outside the house, and read books by other authors. It only lasted eight days, and then I was back to hammering keys on the computer.”
She gave him a curious look. "What do you do when you get writer's block?"
"Either I start a new book, or work on another book in progress. I tend to have two working titles that I switch to when I run out of steam on a book. All in all, I handle three books at one time. I don't believe in writer's block; just writing detours."
"Good philosophy." She nodded her head and Frank noticed that her arm was now slung over the top of the couch, where his head was resting. "You know what? I think you read more than just that first line in my diary, so I'm going to have to extricate more personal secrets from you. Tell me something else about yourself." She placed a hand on his thigh, with sparks in her eyes.
"Okay, but this stays between you and me. I don't want any locals or anybody else to know about this, alright?"
He spoke in a low tone, as if there were other people in the room he didn't want eavesdropping on him. "Along with writing mainstream novels, I also write erotic and taboo sex fiction under a pseudonym."
Amanda suppressed a laugh. "Really?"
"Are you working on any stories right now? And who's your publisher?"
"When I'm not writing my next book, I'm currently working on a story titled Winters of Love. It's more of a short romance than erotic fiction. I'm at the part where this couple has just gotten married and they rent a hotel room to have their first session of passionate love-making."
"Ooh, could you start from the beginning, please? Just tell it to me - what you can remember of it."
"I remember everything I write." Frank told her the story he had written so far and stopped at the hotel room part.
Amanda looked at him expectantly. "What happens next? Tell me what you haven't written yet."
Frank told her, everything he had in his head about that story. When he finished, Amanda was crying. "That was so sweet and so beautiful."
"I'm sorry. I would've toned it down some, if I'd known you'd be emotionally affected by it."
"No, no. It's fine." She wiped tears off her face. "I'm glad you did. But you know what? I think you should change the title."
"I spent over an hour thinking up that title. I'm not going to change it."
"Whatever, it's your story," said Amanda. "You still haven't told me who your publisher is."
"It's an online site that offers free porn videos, pictures, and sex stories. Anyone can register and post their stuff. Mostly pictures and videos, but the site now has a huge gallery of blogs and sex stories. Just like YouTube - pictures, videos, blogs, and stories get voted on and rated."
"Wow. Could you show me this site?"
"Do you have a computer? Internet?"
"Of course, I do."
Amanda led Frank into what she called her office, which it turned out, also functioned as her bedroom, since there was a bed and wardrobe in there along the far side of the wall. Taking a seat at her writing table, she motioned for Frank to sit in the chair beside her. The computer facing them on the table was a Compaq desktop model.
Amanda turned on the computer, logged in, and opened her web browser. Frank typed in the url and logged into his account. He explained to Amanda how the site was structured and how it worked, after which, she asked if he could show her some of the stories he had posted.
As she read one of his stories, she thought aloud, "I've heard of girls keeping journals of their sexual adventures, but I never knew people would actually upload their garbage, have it published, and then socialize with similar-minded people, stewing in their sexual immorality, on a site like this."
Frank smiled uncomfortably, saying, "Welcome to the rest of the world."
Amanda ended up bookmarking the site for future viewing. When she shut down her computer, Frank got up to leave the room. She stopped him and began kissing him, uninhibited by any reservations.
Frank reacted in the most gentlemanly way he knew possible by accepting her into his embrace. As they probed each others mouth, Frank ran his hands up and down her back before going lower to squeeze her buttocks.
They helped to undress each other, getting completely naked. The sight of Amanda in full nude excited Frank and he made no secret about it. She smiled at his appreciation of her body.
Kneeling before Frank, Amanda held his cock and examined it for two seconds before moving her head closer and enclosing her lips over most of the shaft. He caressed her long brown curls as her mouth traveled the length of his cock, back and forth. After a minute and a half, he felt the eruption coming along. Gently pulling himself away from her, Frank turned and shot his semen onto the carpet.
"Sorry about that," he said, apologizing for the mess.
She smiled. "It's okay."
"You weren't going to swallow, were you?"
Amanda shook her head. "No, I don't do that. I'm glad you pulled out when you did."
Taking Frank by the hand, she led him to the bed and laid back with him on top of her. He slipped into her and she gave him a simple order, which he followed. "Fuck me."
Frank pumped himself into Amanda for three minutes. Propping her knees up on either side of his waist, she moved her hands down to his buttocks and thrust her pelvis upward, increasing the depth of their love-making. They both made sounds of pleasure, until....
She felt him ejaculate in her and began kissing him, knowing that she would have to help Frank get it up again, if she wanted to get off too. And neither of them quit until they had scored at least four climaxes each. After that, they showered together, making love again, but with more fondling and kissing.
An hour later, Frank left Amanda's residence. She walked him to his minivan, watching as he got into the driver's eat. "You should really think about changing the title of your story. It's a great story, but I think it would be better with the title I suggested."
Frank started the minivan. "I'll think about it."
"I guess that's as much as I can hope for from you." She leaned in through the driver's window and gave him a long, lingering kiss. "Thanks, Frank. I had a great time. Let's do it again later on."
"I'll think about that too." He gave her a wicked smile and reversed out of the driveway.
On the way back to his haunted house, Frank decided that he would change the title of his short story from Winters of Love to Amanda's proposed title - *Snow Globe.
*Author's Note: "Snow Globe" is an actual story written by another XNXX author. Listed in my profile favorites.
* * * * *
It was 2:30 in the afternoon when Frank parked outside the old house. Even now in daylight, it looked forbidding and sinister. The police cruiser was long gone since morning. Something has to be done about those crawling vines, he thought, as he gazed sharply over the entire structure. As soon as he entered the house, he went looking for his baseball bat. He didn't want to be caught unaware without some form of weapon to fight back with. A smile crept over his lips as he remembered the house he had just left and the amazing woman he had been fucking a while ago. Maybe I should put some mirrors in this place. Borrow some from Amanda. He chuckled at that idea.
The baseball bat was leaning against the couch where he had left it. As he was about to grasp the handle, he heard the sound of a faint car horn. Only one place where that would be coming from. Frank exited the house, walking past his minivan to look down the hill at the main road. Sure enough, there was a vehicle there, tooting its horn. From where he was, he made out a male driver. Two figures got out of the vehicle and waved at him. It was Stella and Crystal. They shouted at him, but he was unable to decipher what they were saying through the long distance. They must be afraid of the house, he thought. He was right. Stella shouted again and he understood that she was reminding him about her invitation to go see the game that evening.
He gestured to them, inquiring, what time? She yelled back, “6 PM”. He nodded in understanding, gesturing that he was definitely going to watch. Stella and Crystal jumped up and down in glee, waving once again to Frank before getting in the vehicle that drove on, heading into town.
Back in his house, Frank picked up the baseball bat and cautiously ascended the staircase leading to the top floor where his office was. He looked in on his office. Everything was as he had left it - in disarray. Frank went on to check the next room - his bedroom. Satisfied, he exited, and walked to the end of the upper hall where he found a closet. His heart began beating rapidly. What if some nameless, ugly, dangerous creature was waiting in the closet for some unlucky person to open the door, so it could pounce on him or her? Frank yanked open the closet door and skipped back with a yell as a torrent of items came toppling down onto the floor before him. "Fuck," he said and kicked an old doll that went falling down the stairs.
Breathing in deeply, he steadied his heart rate and went down on his knees to inspect the artifacts. As soon as it had gone, it came back: a sudden, creeping dread. These things must have belonged to the Zuccos. Frank's hands began to shake and his legs gave way under his weight. With one hand, he gripped his baseball bat tighter, and with the other, he picked up a handkerchief and sniffed it. It smelled old, as it should. He saw several more dolls, all of them cartoonish representations of little Black slave girls. Their attire was also typical of what African-American girls would have worn back in the days of slavery. Were the Zuccos a black family? No, they couldn't have been. In his mind, he noted the peculiarity of the dolls as an interesting question to research and answer later on.
Frank found combs, hair ornaments, ribbons, some utensils he didn't know what they could be used for. Maybe back in the day when they didn't have the better stuff he had now. And the diary. It had a worn, brown hard cover. The pages inside were yellowed with age and the ink had gone from its original black to dark brown, though, still good enough to read the words it formed. As a writer, this was truly something of value. He placed the book to the side where he could pick it up later.
Going through the rest of the things, he found nothing else that interested him. One thing he did know was that these things would be worth a fortune on auction, maybe even more, if the would-be buyers knew they came from an authentic, old, haunted house with a horrible history. People were still into that sort of sick shit these days, but not Frank. He would keep the diary for its worth as a source of information.
Frank hastily put back all the items into the closet, not forgetting to go downstairs to pick up the doll he had kicked down. Only the diary did not go back into the closet.
In his office, Frank stared at the scratches on the window glass for a long while before opening the diary to the first page. From the first two pages, he was able to glean that this diary belonged to a girl named Dorothy and she was one seriously bipolar child. Back in those days, they probably didn't know what Bipolar Depression was, so they would think of Dorothy as the happy-sad kid. The heartstrings of sympathy were being strummed inside Frank as he read on. He too had suffered from a case of depression as a child.
Dorothy had lived in this house with her cousins Susan, Eve and Gabrielle, and their mother and her aunt Maggie Lorre. The constant visitor to their house was a girl from Atwill by the name of Molly Pleasance. The Lorres had moved in after their father and husband died. And by coincidence, Dorothy's father, mother, and siblings had died around the same time, leaving her in the care of servants, until the Lorres arrived. She didn't state the manner of her family's deaths in the diary.
Frank felt an erection coming on as Dorothy described her friendship with Molly. They were truly bosom buddies, on many occasions walking into the forest to play, hug, cuddle, grope, fondle, and kiss. Her relationship with the Lorres was ambivalent at best. They didn't know what to make of her strangeness. Her cousin sisters tried reaching out, but their efforts were in vain as Dorothy failed to connect with them. She was an introvert and only came out of her shell when Molly was around. Her vivid description of an afternoon spent licking Molly's pussy in the woods made Frank jizz in his pants. Something tapped at his window and he jumped, sending the book hurtling into the air and landing on the floor with a sharp thud.
Looking at the window, Frank realized that it was only a small bird. He felt stupid and began searching for the book. Finding it, he went back to his desk and sat down. Stella's and Crystal's invitation popped up in his head from a sea of shadowy thoughts. Remembering the game, he pulled out his cell phone and looked at the clock. It was now 5:29 PM. The game would start at six. Frank placed the book gently down on his desk, next to the keyboard and mouse of his computer, and went to take a shower.
* * * * *
Over seven hundred people had turned up to watch the football match between the Atwill Psychos and the Lugosi Bats. Frank looked for Amanda amongst the crowd, but couldn't see her. Now he wished he had gotten her phone number earlier that day.
The players ran out onto the field and the game was on. This became the queue for the cheerleader squad as they showed up in their tight outfits sporting their school colors: bright red on gray. Now sitting in the middle of the top stand, Frank spotted Stella and Crystal. Between their routines, the girls' eyes roamed over the spectators in search of someone. They found what they were looking for and waved their pompoms enthusiastically at Frank. His response was an airy wave that had the girls blushing.
Lugosi ended up winning the match, but it had been a close, thrilling game. As people left the stand, Frank went over to where the cheerleaders were mingling with some of the football players and spectators.
Coming up behind Stella, he said, "Your squad was fantastic. I enjoyed the game almost as much as I enjoyed your performance."
"Frank! Thanks for coming." She threw her arms around him and he hugged her only briefly, worried that her father might show up all grumpy because she was letting a much older man get too much access to her body.
"Frank! You came!" Crystal had just finished talking to one of her friends and walked over. "Did you enjoy the game?"
"As I told Stella, the game was awesome, but you girls were better."
"Wow, what a compliment!" She jumped up and down. "Something urgent happened to my parents and they're unable to come and pick me up. I live on the other side of town. Could you give me a lift, Frank?"
Stella touched his shoulder. "I need a lift too. My dad's car broke down." Both girls were smiling hopefully. Frank couldn't say no.
According to the destinations they had given him, Frank thought the route they were on meandered unnecessarily from the shortest possible course they could take. The girls made him pull into a picnic area. It was dark and creepy here at night. Frank looked around for any telltale signs of potential danger.
"What's wrong, Frank?" said Crystal.
"Uh, we're in a park at night and I haven't dropped off either of you at your house yet."
Stella said, "Frank, Crystal and I Googled you on the Internet and came up with some interesting information."
"Oh, you did? What did you find out?"
"That you're a book author and your books are mostly action thrillers with-" she feigned a cough "a lot of naked ladies and sex in them."
Frank laughed. "That's what sells the books, girls. Sex and violence. It's just entertainment."
Crystal slowly ran a forefinger across his shoulder. "We wondered if you actually enjoyed writing the sex in your stories."
"Believe it or not, I do. It's easy - much easier than writing the outlines, creating the characters, plots, and settings." He looked from Crystal to Stella. "Are you girls thinking of becoming writers? I'd be more than happy to help you get started. I'm a member of the Facebook group 'Authors Against Illiteracy in Teenagers'."
"Oh, we'd love to take some writing classes from you, but what we want to do right now is see how good you are at using that other pen of yours. You know that pen?" Crystal's smile was wide and enchanting.
Stella rubbed his other shoulder soothingly with her hand. "We'd like to have you 'write' inside of us."
Frank shivered slightly at this solicitation for sex from these two sexy nubile teenagers. They were still in their cheerleader outfits. "Here, in the minivan?"
"Unless you want to do it out in the woods," said Stella. From her tone of voice, Frank gathered she didn't want to do that.
From the front, Frank and Crystal moved to the back of the minivan where Stella was. He switched on the inside light so they could see what they were doing. Facing the two girls, he felt and fondled their bodies. Stella and Crystal opened themselves up completely to him. Crystal felt her pussy being groped, while Stella had Frank's hands squeezing her tits. Both girls made sounds of pleasure as he touched them in all the ways they wanted to be touched.
The uniform panties they wore beneath their outfits came off. Stella began pulling off her top, but Frank stopped her, saying he wanted to fuck them in their uniforms. "You've got a cheerleader fetish," she said.
Kissing Crystal, Frank laid her down and stripped off his clothing. The sight of him naked with them in the enclosed space heated up the girls. Frank placed Crystal's legs up against his torso as he inserted his cock and pumped over and over into her vagina. "Oh, ohh, ohh," said Crystal as his cock got buried to the balls inside her pussy. He started off thrusting slow and quickened the pace, lasting for about three minutes before he shot his sperm load deep in her. Crystal said, "I've got man juice inside me, Stella."
"I'm about to get some in me too, pal." Stella laid back and Frank raised her upper legs with her lower legs folded over his arms. Positioning himself, he pushed and invaded her cunt with his eager meat. Gripping and pulling her thighs against him, Frank propelled his pelvis repeatedly into the area between her legs. He lasted roughly the same amount of time in her as he had in Crystal and spurt his semen inside her vagina.
Taking his shirt, Frank wiped off the cum on his pelvis, cock and balls. He beckoned Crystal and told her to suck his cock. Eagerly, she put her head down on his lap and sucked his cock. Pulling Stella to him, Frank kissed her, sucking mouth-to-mouth until he felt Crystal bring him off. He didn't bother to check if she swallowed his cum or not.
Stella realized it was her turn to suck his cock, so she went down and took his cock into her mouth, happily sucking away, while Crystal and Frank kissed deeply. Stella felt his cock go hard again and kept sucking until it swelled and spewed white ooze inside her mouth. She swallowed and Frank definitely felt that. He could also taste himself in Crystal's mouth, which gave him a few ideas on altering the realism of sex in his stories.
The girls took turns kissing Frank, waiting for his cock to recover. Regaining erection, Frank had the girls go on all fours in the backseat. He placed his hands on Stella's waist, inserting himself into her, and thrusting from a slow to rapid pace . She came in a matter of six minutes. Frank steadied her position with both arms supporting under her. Stella felt his balls press tightly against her labia as he emptied himself into her once more.
A minute later, Crystal moaned as he slid his cock into her vagina. He became more eratic, pounding his cock hard into her, his angle of thrust varying. Finding equilibrium, he made short, quick thrusts until he felt her body tremble with release. Soon after that, he was spurting uncontrollably inside her vagina, over her labia, ass, and thighs.
Frank's eyes lost focus as he felt the last of his semen for that night exit his shaft. He saw that both girls' pussies and asses had his cum pasted on them.
The victorious feeling he had swelling inside him dissipated in a flash when Crystal screamed, followed quickly by Stella. They pointed at the window.
Looking in on them from the outside was the pale white hag with black eyes, horns, a tail, and that ugly bush of dead branches sprouting from her back.
Seeing that she had their attention, the creature gave a powerful, ear-splitting shriek that sent a chill to Frank's bones. He grabbed the girls and held them close and hard to himself. They wrapped themselves around him tight and buried their faces in his chest. He yelled at the creature, but it paid no attention to him. The thing rounded the minivan and gave it several violent shoves. At each push, Stella and Crystal screamed loudly and wet the seat with Frank's forced-out cum and their own urine.
The creature punched the side window on Frank's right, leaving a crack. It turned and dashed off into the park woods. Comforting the girls, he told them to stay in the back, making sure the sliding door was locked. Frank climbed over to the driver's seat and started the minivan. Getting it into gear, he reversed the vehicle like a fugitive on the run and sped out onto the main road. This time the girls gave him the shortest route to their destination: they would both be staying at Crystal's house.
* * * * *
As soon as Frank turned off his vehicle's engine, parked outside the old house, he cursed himself for not keeping the baseball bat with him in the minivan. Summoning whatever courage he had left, he sprinted from the car and into the house, quickly switching on the lights and taking up the baseball bat he had left on the couch. Quick scan of the living room and kitchen. Negative. Okay. No evil, ugly monsters waiting for him in the house. He held on to the bat as he took a shower.
The lights in the house turned a dim, gothic blue when Frank got out of the shower. He thought, something must be wrong with the electricity or the electrical wiring of the house. Upstairs, he changed clothes and resumed his reading of Dorothy's diary. By now he was sure that Dorothy was the Zuccos' daughter, but he didn't know which generation. The writing in the diary was hard to read due to the not-so-bright lighting. Frank went looking for a flash light in one of his boxes, when he heard the faint crying.
Goosebumps rose all over his body and his hairs stood on end. The lights turned dimmer. The crying continued. It was coming from downstairs and it sounded like a girl.
Frank slowly descended the staircase and sought out the source of the sadness. It came from one of the rooms that branched off from the hallway leading from the living room. One of the guest rooms. The third one to the right.
The room was cold - not freezing, but enough to make him shiver. The figure sitting on the bed and crying had blonde hair that looked as if she had just been wrestling with a friend in the woods. Leaves and twigs were stuck in her long, golden strands. Her hands and feet that he could see sticking out of her clothes were grayish-to-purple, and her head was bowed down as she wiped tears from her eyes, sniffing. "I hate you, Dorothy. I don't love you anymore."
His heart beating with the force of a jackhammer, Frank walked quietly into the room until he was standing several feet from her. "Hey, kid."
She immediately brought her head up and Frank jumped back, startled as he saw the knife stuck in her face, going through her right eye. The blood was dark purple and her face was pale grayish-purple just like the rest of her skin. She was dead, but she was there, now staring at Frank with confusion in her eyes. "Have you seen, Dorothy?"
"Ah... no. Who are you?"
"I'm Molly. Molly Pleasance from Atwill. I'm her friend. But I don't think she likes me anymore. She stabbed me in the face. Do you see it?" She pointed to the obviously fatal injury done to her. Frank nodded. Molly was in her teens, maybe sixteen or seventeen years old.
"Yeah. It looks really bad."
"I don't know why she did it. I was just asking about her family. Why she was so alone and living with her aunt and cousins. Do you know the Lorres?"
"There's her aunt Maggie and her cousin sisters Gabrielle, Eve, and Susan." She whimpered and sobbed. "Why would she hurt me like this? I'm her only friend. That's what she said, anyway."
Frank went to sit down on the bed next to her and put an arm around her. She was cold, too cold to be living.
"Thanks, mister. You're really nice. What's your name?"
She leaned into him and unwittingly put her hand right on his crotch. A massive erection came up, getting Molly's attention. "Mister, you've got something growing there." Her voice was one of innocent surprise.
"It's an erection. Nothing to worry about." She kept looking at it, fixated. "Do you want to see it?" She nodded, looking up at him and back down at the pitched tent. Frank pulled down his pants to his knees and his cock was waving proudly in the air. Molly gasped.
"Mister!" She bent over to get a closer look. Frank pushed her back slightly.
"Sorry, but that knife in your face is scaring me. Not that you're ugly, but you might cut me accidentally, if you get too close."
"Molly!" A woman and three girls with the same texture of skin as Molly stood outside the room. They were in their night gowns and so was Molly. "What are you doing, bothering this man? And what have you done to yourself?"
Molly looked a bit shy and embarrassed as she said, "His name is Frank. He was nice to me."
"And your face?"
"Dorothy stabbed me."
The woman was furious about the injury and filled with grief for Molly. "Oh, you poor girl! That cruel bitch of a niece! How could she!"
The three girls standing behind the woman didn't have heads. Their necks were purple bloodied stumps. No longer bleeding; just dried blood like Molly’s head wound.
"Let me take a look at that." The woman came over to the bed and sat down on the other side of Molly. The three headless girls went to sit on the other side of Frank. He shivered at the sight of them and their nearness. The woman carefully and smoothly pulled the knife out of Molly's head. "There we go." She discarded it and caressed the girl's face. "You poor thing. But look at my daughters. Something worse has happened to them. Dorothy cut their heads off with her father's ax."
Molly looked over at the girls and made a sad face. "I'm so sorry Eve, Gabrielle, and Susan. When I find Dorothy, I'm going to punish her for what she did to me and you. Is that all right, Aunt Maggie?"
"We'll all punish her, Molly." She hugged the girl. "I think Dorothy poisoned me. I left a glass of water on the dining table and was walking around the house, reading some letters. Returning to the table, I took a sip from the glass and it tasted horrible. Even the color of the water had changed to a sickly yellowish green, but I saw that after I downed the vile fluid. My throat and stomach began hurting soon after that. I still feel that pain, but it's very faint. I wouldn't call it pain anymore."
Frank, hearing this exchange, pulled up his pants and stood. "Is Dorothy's surname Zucco?"
"Yes," said Maggie. "Did you know her family?"
"No. What was her father's name?"
"And he was the son of?"
"Bernard and Beatrice. Benjamin married his sister Hannah and they had three children. Two boys and a girl. The girl is Dorothy." She was silent for a moment before she spoke. "I do pity her for being the only surviving member of her family. Such a tragedy. But it doesn't justify her doing these horrible things to me, my daughters, and her best friend."
"No, it doesn't." Frank turned and left the room. Ascending the stairs, he entered his office and read more of the diary, confirming what he had learned from the spirits downstairs. He checked his cell phone and saw that the time was 11:28 PM. The sound of a branch snapping came through the window. He looked and saw nothing. Frank went close until he was peering with his face a centimeter away from the glass. It was futile trying to see anything. Too dark outside with no lights. The sound of footsteps made him turn around.
It was Maggie, her daughters and Molly. Frank felt like vomiting, seeing them again. Something had to be done about those neck stumps.
Seeing the book he held, Maggie said, "You have Dorothy's diary. Who are you?"
"I'm Frank Price. This house is mine and all five of you have been dead for a long time now, but you don't know it."
Molly started to cry. "I knew it! I knew I was dead!" Maggie comforted her.
"You should try to be more polite when addressing people," said Maggie. "Even if they do happen to be dead."
A noise came from just outside the office. Female voices. "Mom, mom! Come get us, mom! Where are our bodies?" Frank excused himself from the room and listened to the voices. They were coming from the closet. He opened it and found the heads of three pretty teenage girls yelling for their mother.
"Hi," he said to the heads. They said hello back. Picking them up, he returned to the office and handed the three heads to Maggie who replaced them on their proper necks. The ugly decapitation marks were still there, but at least, now the heads were attached to the bodies.
"Thank you very much, Frank." Maggie hugged him. She was cold. They were all cold as he took hugs from the three Lorre girls. "How could we ever repay you?"
"You would've found the heads eventually, but I do need your help."
"Anything we can do."
"I have been disturbed twice by a hideous, white, female creature, resembling a demon."
Maggie put a hand over her mouth. "So it's true: the Zuccos did have occult powers."
"What, or who, is she?"
"It could only be the last of the Zuccos – Dorothy."
The lights returned to full brightness and the ghosts disappeared. After an hour or so of working on his book, Frank dumped himself on his bed and dozed off. At 2:21 AM, the lights in the house turned dim gothic blue once more. It grew cold and the discomfort woke him up. His feet were cold, so he decided to put on some thick woolen socks.
When he turned back to his bed, he found Maggie, Molly, Eve, Susan, and Gabrielle sitting there and naked. "Hello again, Frank," said Maggie. "Please, remove your clothes." Frank did as he was told.
A terrifying shriek rang out from the woods. Frank's heart jumped in his chest. He forgot about what he was about to do and went to take a look at the window. Maggie said to the four girls, "Go and fight off that spawn of evil, then return to assist me with Frank." They nodded in unison and produced glowing, ghost-like whips. Holding these, the four young females passed through the wall, on their way to battle the white creature.
Frank felt a cold hand pull him backward. Maggie took him to the bed and laid with him. Taking his cock, she pressed it against her cold pussy and pushed herself toward Frank, filling her vagina. Maggie asked, "Do you want to know what it's like to kiss a dead woman?" She didn't wait for him to answer. Frank felt her lips bond with his, he opened up, and her tongue invaded his mouth. She was cold, but not unpleasant. Frank felt a deep sadness for her. How alone she must have been all this time in this house. He wondered if she could find other ghosts - male ghosts - and experience romance and erotic pleasure with them.
Maggie embraced him and the propulsion of her pelvis against his became more desperate and chaotic. She broke off their kiss and moaned aloud as she experienced an orgasm. Frank had no idea if this was for real or merely for his benefit. Either way, he found it stimulating. Grabbing her buttocks, Frank pounded his cock savagely into her pussy for another four minutes before he unleashed a torrent of semen inside her.
Maggie scooped up the excess cum seeping out of her pussy and licked it off her fingers. "Mmmm, living cum." That put some thoughts in Frank's mind.
The girls returned and joined the two adults on the bed. Maggie moved off the bed, standing by to watch over the rest of the proceedings.
Pushing Frank onto his back, Molly straddled his lap, guiding his cock into her pussy. Frank held her hips as she bobbed up and down on him. "Uhnnggmmm…Mister, uhhhh, uhhhhh." She leaned back until she was supporting herself on his legs, and fucked his cock into her pussy for six minutes until he came in her.
"My turn," said Eve. She embraced Frank and he kissed her on the forehead. Turning and laying her down with him spooned behind her, Frank lifted her leg and inserted his cock into her pussy. She moaned as Frank thrust his cock in and out of her. After a couple of minutes, he stopped and tapped his cock against her labia. Eve rubbed her clitoris and parted her lips as Frank pushed his meat rod into her again. His balls smacked repeatedly against labia as he fucked her for another two minutes before releasing his load inside.
He didn't know what happened, but his spent sex organ was recharged somehow when Gabrielle laid on her front and started to stroke him. She pumped her fist up and down his shaft, kissing his cock head at intervals. Finally, she pulled down the skin covering his head, revealing the purple-pinkish end. Closing her eyes dreamily, she kissed all over the bare head, finally sucking it like a lollipop and licking up the shaft. Frank almost thought he was going to explode then, but he didn't.
Gabrielle straddled his hips and brought her ass down on his eager cock until he was buried to the hilt in her bowels. Leaning forward and pressing her hands against his abdomen, she rode his cock into her ass for a little more than a minute before he shot his cum inside her. She lay back and Frank got up. Taking control of her legs, he pounded his meat into her ass for three minutes, ejaculating again in the fourth.
"Wow, he looks tired," said Susan as she stretched herself across Frank, who had lain back after filling Gabrielle. Her lips pressed against Frank's and soon they were both locked in deep kissing. "Maybe not so tired as I thought." She giggled and reached down to plug his cock into her cunt. Placing both hands behind his head, she moved her entire body in short strokes, making her pussy go the half length of his cock shaft to his balls.
Frank stuck his middle finger in her anus and she made a small cry of surprise. "Uhh, uhh, uhhh." Moaning, Gabrielle moved her pussy faster along his cock for five minutes as Frank squeezed and fingered her ass. She announced her climax with a high-pitched cry and laid flat on top of him, falling asleep in seconds with his cock still snug in her vagina.
Frank dozed off caressing Susan's naked body. When he woke up, it was 8:20 in the morning. No ghosts, just himself.
* * * * *
The cell phone on his desk rang and Frank answered it naked and still damp from the shower he had taken. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Mr. Price. This is Doctor Bell from Atwood Hospital. I'm calling about your mother."
"Is there something wrong?"
"No. Actually, I'm delighted to inform you that she has regained consciousness. She's still weak from her long period of invalidity, but she's talking and wants to see you right away."
Four years his mother had been in a comatose state in the hospital. The doctors had told him that there was a chance she would recover, but from the way they sounded, Frank didn't allow himself to get his hopes too high. Still. He didn't have the heart to pull the plug on his mother. She had given birth to him and had raised him when he was a helpless infant, toddler, boy, and now he was a man. He loved his mother, but the news the doctor had just given him seemed too good to be true, even surreal, after the events of last night. "I don't believe it," he said into the phone.
"Sir, I'm not joking. This is real." The doctor sounded insulted.
"Thank you, doctor. I'll be there right away."
On the way to the hospital, Frank thought of all the things he wanted to say to his mother and what things he should say first. His mind was racing so quickly that he almost caused several road accidents. Slapping himself, he focused on driving safely. Frank failed to notice the blue Mustang when he parked his minivan in the hospital parking lot. At the reception desk, he was stopped by a female doctor who looked familiar.
"Hi, Amanda. I didn't know you were a doctor too."
Amanda laughed. "I'm just shadowing the real doctors and nurses. I'm doing research for my next book. It will be a medical thriller with supernatural overtones. You like the doctor look?"
Frank ogled her wearing a pink shirt and black short skirt inside the doctor's cloak. "Who needs the nurse when they've got a gorgeous doctor like you?"
She smiled. "Follow me."
He was supposed to be seeing his mother, but Frank thought she could wait a few more minutes, after being in a coma for years. Amanda led him to an abandoned wing of the hospital. She explained to him that the wing was scheduled to be torn down for rebuilding two weeks from now. They entered an emergency room in which an empty sick bed was placed in the center. Normally, this would've been slightly disturbing for Frank, but after spending the previous night having sex with five dead-but-not-so-dead females, he just looked around the room curiously.
He asked, "How many people died here?"
"I would think none." Amanda took off her cloak and removed the rest of her clothing. "They have excellent doctors here in Atwill." Standing naked, she cupped her breasts in her hands and gently pulled at her nipples using her thumbs and forefingers.
Before Frank could begin stripping, she ran into his arms and hugged him fiercely. "I love you, Frank." She looked up into his face. "Is it okay, if I say that?"
He stroked her curly hair. "No, but you can write it, if you want." She grinned and kissed him tenderly.
"Kiss me, Frank. Kiss me all over. Don't take off your clothes yet. Kiss me first."
Never letting go of her naked body, Frank kissed her lips, face, neck, shoulders, chest, breasts, hands, arms, back, abdomen, ass, pussy, thighs, legs, and feet. As he knelt in front of her, Amanda put one leg over his shoulder. He looked up slightly and saw her pussy invitingly heading towards him. Her loving hands pushed his head into her pubic junction. Frank devoured her labia, sucking thoroughly on her puffy lips and cutting into her with his tongue like a surgeon's scalpel. Moving his face forward, he tongued her deeper and lapped rapidly at her sensitive spot. Amanda made a long moaning sound, thrusting her hips forward erratically, while she held his head in place. "Suck me, Frank. Eat my pussy."
Amanda was surprised at his strength when he raised her, placing both her legs over his shoulders. Her pelvis was now pressed fully against his face with her thighs on either side of his head in a vice grip. Frank's mouth completely covered Amanda's pussy; his tongue wiggled and flicked in all manner of motion between her fleshy folds, inside her vagina. He brought her to climax.
"That was so good. Let's get on the bed. Off with your clothes, Frank."
He started stripping and was assisted by the impatient young woman, almost making tears in his fabrics. On the bed, Amanda straddled Frank, and gripping the metal rails on either side, rode his cock for nine minutes before she felt him explode in warm ejaculation inside her. When he regained erection, she rode him for another three minutes before plugging him into her anus and riding him in reverse. Frank spanked her ass as she went up and down on him. He released his load in her again. Sighing in satisfaction, Amanda giggled and lay cuddling with him in the hospital bed. The metal railing was cold, so she placed a sheet between it and her body.
They had been gently touching and stroking each other intimately for several minutes before she asked what he was doing there at the hospital. "Is it your mother?" Frank's eyes widened. He had forgotten all about it during the sex he'd had with her. Amanda noticed his shock. "It is your mother. What happened?"
Frank kissed her deeply on the mouth and got off the bed. "She's come out of her coma. She wants to see me."
"Omigosh, Frank. I'm so sorry for delaying you." She watched him as he quickly put his clothes back on. Fully dressed, Frank gave her another deep, passionate kiss, saying it was okay.
"Are you done for today, or do you still have some shadowing to do?"
Walking over to her clothes, she picked up her cell phone and looked at the time. "There's a surgery scheduled to take place an hour from now. The doctor in charge has permitted me to be present in the theater during the operation. I'll be taking notes for my book."
"Is there a nice place in town where I could take you for dinner?"
Amanda smiled. "Yeah, I know a place."
Frank waited for her to get dressed. They returned to the main part of the hospital and exchanged cell phone numbers. Frank watched as Amanda got involved in a discussion with some of the female nurses. He smiled as she waved to him heading to where his mother was being kept.
Jane Price was awake, resting in a bed, other than her unit, and watching television. She turned to see her son standing in the doorway. Smiling, she reached out both arms in joyful welcome. Frank went to her and they embraced for what seemed like an hour.
"I missed you so much, mom, even though, you were always close to me."
"I'm so sorry, son, to have put you through so much."
"It's okay, mom. You're awake and that's all that matters. I'm so happy to have you back."
They broke their embrace, but continued to hold each other. Jane caressed her son's face. "My, you've gotten older much too fast. The doctors said I've been under for four years. If four years of being without a mother can do this to a man, then I'm never going to sleep again. I'm going to keep watch over you forever." Frank smiled and tears streamed down his face. Jane hugged him, kissed his forehead repeatedly, hugged him again, rubbing his back, kissed him again, and hugged him for the longest time. He let it all out in a flood of tears and she became a mother to her baby boy again.
After twenty minutes of sobbing, Frank pulled up a chair beside his mother's bed and wiped his tears. Jane reached out and held his hand in hers. She looked younger, now that she was awake; eerily almost his age. Her first hug had been weak, but now her hand enclosed over his was surprisingly strong. Into her son's eyes she looked and said, "I have no idea how we ended up in this place, Frank. Where'd the city go?"
He briefly explained to her how things had turned out since she had gone into her invalid condition. She was happy when he mentioned his success in his books and Amanda, but was deeply concerned about the events that took place in the old house he had purchased. Frank didn't mention anything about the supernatural, the dark history of the house, the diary, or his fling with the two high school teenagers.
When he had finished, Jane looked at her fingers and back to him. "Now, Frank, I'm glad that you've told me what you have so far. However, I believe you've left out some important information."
Aw, crap. The doctor or one of the nurses has been telling her stories about the old haunted house. Can't trust a small town community to keep its mouth shut. "Mom, I didn't want you t-"
"I'm still talking, son. Listen." Frank obediently kept his mouth closed. "I don't know how you came to buying that house, but Destiny has been in all the works up till this moment. That house is special, Frank, and so are you. But just because you're special doesn't mean you can go around screwing random females from the local population. The people in places like this cannot be trusted. I learned about this the hard way, years ago before you were a twinkle in my eye."
Frank looked deflated, but she lifted his chin up and gripped his hand again. "The other thing you didn't tell me about that I'm proud of is how you saved me that night when I got cut. I know I'm your mother and you were being a son, but what you did for me wasn't just that. It was more; Destiny at work again, son. You saved me from my enemies; those horrible cousins and that aunt of mine, not to mention that backstabbing, so-called best friend I used to have. Why can't they all just stay dead!"
His mother kept on talking and Frank pretended to listen, but his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. Finally, when she had finished her monologue, he hugged her, but the warmth in his heart had vanished - replaced by a cold dread. Her embrace was uncomfortably strong now and her fingers stroking the back of his head felt like the dead branches of a tree. "I'll see you very soon, mom. Be back for you tomorrow."
"I'm ready to go now, son."
"Okay, in the afternoon then." He stood up.
"Something important you have to do?" Her question was innocent enough, but Frank detected insecurity, cunning, and evil tendencies lurking near the surface of it like a hungry shark swimming around to bite an unsuspecting swimmer.
He did his best to smile shyly. "Yeah, mom. I've got a lunch date with Amanda."
"Ooh, my baby. You take care of yourself and remember what I've told you about trusting people here."
"Thanks, mom. I will." Leaning over, he planted a kiss on her forehead and cheek. Before he could straighten up, she grabbed hold of his shirt and kissed him full on the lips. The kiss lasted for an awkwardly long time, her lips sensuously opening and closing over her son's. Frank was even more shocked to notice that her eyes were fixed onto his. They seemed to have changed color slightly and now looked like those of a bird of prey. It freaked him out, but he remained calm. She was looking into him, seeing into his mind with those eyes, but he could also see into hers: lust, incest, forbidden power, and depraved desires.
Finally, her eyes closed and she let go of his shirt. Frank could have broken the kiss then, but he didn't want to show her that she had scared him. He pressed his lips more firmly against hers and did to her what she had done to him: manipulating his mouth against hers. This elicited a moan of pleasure from her. They had never done anything incestuous before, but in just a few minutes, his entire perception of who his mother was had changed. So what if he kissed her in this fashion? It might be their last kiss, if what he now suspected was true.
Jane waved at him and he waved back at her as he closed the door. Frank walked quickly, forcing himself not to run in the hallway. Pulling out his cell phone, he made two calls and went straight for his vehicle.
* * * * *
Frank got to his house - the house he was destined to live in? Not if he had anything to say about it.
In his office, he opened the diary and flipped through the pages. He was looking for something and he found it. He checked the date and read the entry. Dorothy got worked up (or worked herself up) one day and hacked off the heads of her cousin sisters, right after poisoning her aunt. Before all this, she had stabbed her best friend Molly in the woods with a kitchen knife they had borrowed to cut fruits found in the forest.
His hands shook as he flipped to the very last of the entries. He read it.
Living in this old house stinks. I can still smell aunt Maggie, Eve, Gabrielle, and Susan. When I go to the woods, I smell Molly. I hate the smell. It stinks. I'm going to move out of here. Some of the grumpy locals came and saw me alone. They said someone would come to take me away from here and put me in a nice home with other kids. Stupid locals. They're all stupid and ugly. My family was the best bunch of folk ever. Too bad they died. Now my cousins and aunt is dead too. Also Molly. Poor Molly. But she shouldn't have gotten all nosey and asked me about my family. No one deserves to know anything about my family.
I can't stay here. They'll come get me and take me away. This is my home, but I have to leave. I'll go live in the city, but I'll leave a piece of me behind; a watcher to look after this place. After all, it is my place and no one else’s. I still remember the special art mom and dad taught me. I'll use it to create the Watcher so no one will ever own this place, but me. The people nearby might be stupid enough to come after me in the city, once they find the bodies, but I've got another trick up my skirt. A lot of people do it and I'm going to do it too - I'll change my name. I just thought of a nice one: Jane Price.
"Looks like good material for your next book, son." Frank jumped out of his chair, landing on his ass against the back wall. His mother stood in the doorway of his office (and maybe her former bedroom - he might never know) with a large and very sharp, chopping knife in her right hand. He didn't bother asking her or trying to figure out how she got there.
Jane continued. "You are definitely my son, but unlike the rest of the Zucco family, you have an inability to keep a secret. You either write things down and/or tell them to the women you fuck. Bad way to go, child. Yeah, I made the mistake of writing down some of my worst secrets, but hey, I'm back and just about to clean up this mess."
She shook her head and cut him off. "Don't. You've failed my expectations and... That’s that." Pointing the chopping knife at him, she said, "Now, stay completely still, my lovely. I'm going kill you quick, Frank, but I'll make it up to you and the Zucco family name by ensuring that the next child I bear is fit to continue the legacy."
Frank knew deep down he didn't stand a chance of negotiating with or fighting her, so he did what he thought he would never have to do. He ran and threw himself at the window. The first sensation he felt was the impact of his body hitting the glass. After that, the awful stinging of air rushing at skin that had been cut deep by broken glass - mostly on the left shoulder he had used as a battering ram. Lastly, it was the inevitable sickening thud that was heard on the painful collision of his falling body with the Earth. As he groaned, he realized from his slighted vision that he could have crashed on top of his minivan. Lucky him, or was it Destiny? He was still alive, but not for long.
With a wild fury, Jane clambered out of the top window and leapt off the roof to land on that of his minivan, making a major dent and shattering the windshield and windows with the force of her impact. She still held the chopping knife in her right hand and stepped down onto the vehicle's hood. "Unnecessary pain, son. This is why you have to die. Everything about you is unnecessary, except for the love and care you gave me, but that can be easily replaced with another pregnancy. I haven't fucked in a very long time and I'm just itching to get something in my pussy and have another critter like you squeezed out."
"Fuck on this, bitch!" Amanda came from Jane's left, flying like a rocket-propelled grenade, sweeping her cleanly off the minivan's hood, and tackling her onto the ground.
"No, Amanda! She'll kill you! Get away from her!" But Frank was too winded and immobilized from his fall to go quickly to his fellow writer's/lover's aid.
A swift, vicious punch from Jane had Amanda clutching at her face in agony. Straightening up, Jane held her opponent down and went for the killing strike with the knife.
A gunshot rang out and Frank turned his body to see what had happened. His mother had been shot. Jane/Dorothy collapsed onto the ground, an ugly wound seeping blood where her heart would be.
Sheriff Chaney came into Frank's line of sight from behind the minivan. He holstered his handgun from which he had fired the killing shot. After checking Jane’s body, he assisted Amanda and Frank. A minute later, a second cop car and an ambulance showed up.
Frank was happy he had made those two calls before leaving the hospital. The sheriff and Amanda were the only people he trusted at that time.
* * * * *
Almost a year after the death of the last Zucco (Frank kept his surname), the old house was torn down. The bodies of all the Zuccos who had died there, the Lorres, and Molly Pleasance were found and given a mass cremation, along with other bodies/remains found on the property that hadn't fully decomposed. All the ashes were scattered from a ship into the Antarctic Ocean. In all this time, Frank stayed at Amanda's house. She became pregnant and gave birth to a healthy, baby boy. Frank felt just about ready to be a father as she was to be a mother.
Frank moved into the new Price residence that was built over the old house. He didn't believe in running away from his past. He would rather face it and write over it. This was his way of dealing with the horrible things that happened in his life. He was happy that Amanda supported him in this and even accepted his invitation to live with him when he decided to move back to the "bad place".
His latest project was a large fish pond dug out in the wooded area some distance from his new house. In this water, he kept three species of fresh water fish. Townsfolk from Atwill and other nearby towns were informed of this development in their local newsletters, so they visited frequently when he opened the spot during fishing season.
One day, as he and Amanda were getting ready to go golfing, someone knocked on their front door. Opening it, he was greeted by two teenage boys with surprised looks on their faces. He could tell they were here to fish by the gear they sported.
"What's the matter, fellas?"
"Mr. Price, do you keep weird mermaids in your pond?"
"No. Why do you ask?"
"Rick and I saw something that looked like a really, scary lady with a tail swimming under the pond. She frightened the fish."
Frank groaned. "Crap. Not her again."
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