by Sasha Pruett
Acknowledgements
To my husband, my rock, my hero, my everything; thank you.
&
To my father; there are simply no words.
Disclaimers
This book is a work of fiction. All persons and events are a figment of my imagination and are not intended to portray or resemble anyone. If it does resemble you, you really have problems don’t you, so keep reading; it might help.
I give complete credit to the Lord God Almighty of whom I am a humble servant. Without His guidance, love, and grace this book (and all others) would not have been written. On the other hand; all errors, uh-oh’s, oopses, and boo-boo’s I gladly take credit for.
COSTLY OBSESSION
By: Sasha Pruett
Copyright 2007 Sasha Pruett
For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?
Mark 8:36
Table of Contents
Prologue: Chapter One
Prologue: Chapter Two
Animalize
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
And Then
Epilogue
The Werewolf
Decay Excerpt
Costly Obsession
Prologue
Chapter One
Little children, keep yourselves from idols.
I John 5:21
He sat motionless in an obscure booth at the rear of the tiny hotel café mesmerized by exhaustion. He willed his body to move, his eyes to focus, and his mind to come to life. He had to think, to see, to leave this place as quickly as possible, he hadn’t much time. Once he was on the road he wasn’t about to stop. He needed to be alert and ready so he sat sipping his tar black coffee; in an effort to awaken his sore and exhausted body, not caring if he appeared suspicious sporting sunglasses at 6:23 in the morning. A criminal, a drunk, or mad man, no one seemed to notice or at least no one dared to. The glaring light from the nearly naked fluorescent bulbs sent searing pain through his eyes like lightning straight into his brain. All he could think about was being on his way; the hotel, café, and this town would all be nothing but a bad dream.
Leaving a meager tip with the check, he breezed unnoticed through the restaurant doors to his car, pushing his sunglasses closer to conceal his bloodshot eyes from a night of little sleep and even less rest. He unlocked the door with a single touch of a button, ‘technology is wonderful,’ he thought, then slid into his seat and finally relaxed. The car was so familiar and comfortable that he could have fallen asleep right there, but instead he removed his glasses and placed them in the glove box and headed west from the hotel parking lot.
Only five hundred miles stood between him and his final destination, but his concentration was not on his mileage. He was positive that he had secured them between his suitcases properly, but every bump and pothole in the road sent doubt throughout his mind and he could not help but worry. He took a great risk, but certain that it was well worth the high blood pressure he pressed on. If he could just keep the heads, his heads, intact everything would be fine. Usually he packed them better, but this time he was in a hurry. He laughed at the thought of taking three heads across two state lines and what the local authority’s reaction to his little surprise would be. He could just picture himself trying to explain that one.
As if the mere thought of cops had manifested itself into reality he passed two state police vehicles parked beside the road. He automatically checked his speed then glanced into his rear view mirror silently praying. Just his luck; both cars were now trailing him and no sooner did he turn away from the mirror did the lights and sirens wail his impending doom. He thought about running, but knew his new model Ford would never outrun a fleet of cops especially in this age of technology, which he began to rethink his view of. Slowly he pulled to the side of the highway careful not to make any mistakes nor appear to be too cautious either still hoping that maybe by some chance the cops would just keep driving right on by. Even if they told him a taillight or something was out, give him a ticket, and then be on their way that would be fine… he was not that lucky.
Both police cars pulled to a stop, one behind him the other in front, encasing him. No one exited the cruisers, which made him even more nervous than before. Miniature beads of perspiration began to form on the back of his neck and his tiny hairs stood at attention. He knew in his gut and mind that the officers would not understand the situation and may never give him the chance to explain. Finally the two officers emerged in unison and trudged towards him, spelling his impending doom. A deep breath welled inside the man’s lungs as he prepared himself for the inevitable. If they failed to notice his precious cargo he would be in the clear, but if they saw the wrong thing then his life may very well be in grave danger, and he knew that no amount of explaining would prevent the confrontation he dreaded. At first all he could see was the uniform and wide brimmed hat of one of the policemen, its metal tassels reflecting a bright gleam of light as the sun bore down at just the right, or wrong angle, then he noticed the strong tanned arms of a well-built law machine. His shirt had to have been an extra-large to fit over the tight formation of muscles that he was sure was beneath it, his side and rear view mirrors captured the clear reflection of the second officer. This one appeared to be more of the mind over matter type, the type that would sense his uneasiness even at a fraction of what it was. Luckily the larger of the two was the one to make it to his window.
“Good morning officer, is there anything wrong?”
“There’s a report of a car of this make and model that was used in a robbery last night, would you mind please stepping out of the vehicle while we have a look inside and don’t forget your license, registration, and proof of insurance?” It was more of a command than any question he had ever heard, but refusal was not an option, so he complied. Steeling himself for what was to come next he slowly got out of his car careful not to look too “suspicious”, while trying to keep his calm.
He nonchalantly handed over his paperwork while keeping an easy look on his face, pretending not to notice the brainy deputy nosing around the trunk. What would he say? What would he do? What could he say or do?
“What heads officer? Oh...those heads, well you see officer it’s not what you think…it’s actually a very funny story…”
He was greatly regretting which officer had reached his door first when the muscle man led him to his own cruiser. Had it not been for the circumstances he would not have minded. Matter of fact he understood completely. None the less his heart raced, but not from being patted down as he was being now, but from the “brain”; who had just popped the trunk open and was heading to the rear
of the car.
He could tell he was going to have a very bad day. Everything shifted into slow motion, as the seconds turned into his last minutes on earth.
The deputy on the other hand froze, choking on his own words. “Ssssir… I thhhink you should see this.”
It was all over. A chance to explain was out of the question. He closed his eyes and relaxed against the side of the deputy sheriff’s cruiser; waiting for it to hit the fan and accepting his fate. Maybe his surprise wasn’t such a good idea after all. He was definitely going to be late, maybe permanently.
The deputy sheriff unsnapped his holster expecting the stolen money and weapons, maybe more. What he found was beyond belief. There carefully lain between two suitcases, wrapped in thick, clear, plastic was a decaying, severed, head and two more plastic bags were all but hidden behind the two suitcases in the rear of the trunk. He could see the poor soul’s swollen, bloated, blackened tongue protruding from its still rotting jaw through the multiple layers of plastic. Its eyeballs had long since sunken into their sockets revealing even more of the brown, green, and blackened mass that had once resembled flesh hanging from the exposed bones.
The deputy began retching violently on his shoes, as the deputy sheriff drew his gun, refusing to show his horror to the hideous monster standing before him. He willed his body to portray the air of the tough cop he knew he was and mustered all of his strength into keeping his voice steady. There was no room for the fear that he was feeling. “Hold it right there you sadistic freak! I’ll shoot you without a second thought. Just try me!”