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by Charles W Jones

  He bobbed down, tasting her, wanting to know everything about her before their short time together ended. Her back arched. A gasp escaped her mouth. In seconds, his tongue had awakened senses she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

  But this was not what she needed. She needed his strength within her. She needed him to fill her with his seed. Her hands wrenched his head away. His appraisal found her pleading for his entrance. Tyler rose, standing between her spread thighs, and without another plea to extinguish her desire, he plunged into her.

  She sat up, eyes closed to slits, lips parted. Her arms coiled under his to reach up to his shoulders, pressing them together as one.

  With every lunge, her fingers dug deeper into his flesh. Rivulets of blood trailed down his back. They raked down. In the abruptness of the agony her nails caused, he erupted inside her. He shuddered with the last surge, stumbling back with heavy breaths, removing himself from her. She reached out her hand, pleading for his return; drops of blood glistened on the tips of her fingers and nails.

  “Dang it,” he huffed. “I’m bleeding.”

  He collected his shirt from the floor, then pulled up his jeans. Shaking his head, he clopped out of the room and down the hall.

  She sat up, staring at the red on her hands. How long had it been since she’d seen blood? Both hands came close to her mouth; she breathed the fragrant aroma, then sucked each finger clean.

  “You been in a catfight?” Becki asked near the soda machine as Tyler hurried to the apartment.

  “Maybe. I need to get these scratches cleaned up.”

  “You need some help? It doesn’t look like you can reach them yourself.”

  “I’ll have Jen—“

  “She’s not here,” the girl interrupted.

  “Still, huh?” She shook her head to his question. “Do you know where she went?”

  “Nope. She and Cody sprinted out of here after coming out of the basement.”

  He turned, looking at the door. “Do you know what they were doing down there? The door is locked, so I can’t check.”

  “You don’t want to go down there.”

  “What? I go down there all the time.”

  She glanced at the door, then back to Tyler. “Who scratched you?”

  “None of your business.” He stomped to the apartment, slamming the door closed behind him.

  “Hope it wasn’t one from downstairs,” she replied, staring at the basement door.

  Cody’s phone lay on the coffee table, but he didn’t see Jen’s. He fished his out of his pocket and dialed. The phone rang three times followed by her voice asking him to leave a message.

  Jen’s hand trembled, seeing Tyler’s name and picture on the screen. They watched her expectantly as she contemplated answering. To their relief, she slid her finger to the ‘Decline’ button.

  She cried a sniffle came with them washing down her cheeks. She had known something wasn’t right with her acting demure, but she had no way of knowing that she had an entity controlling her, keeping her mood even, allowing her to feel no emotions. On a few occasions when she’d been free of its hold, but they only lasted for a short time.

  Her first meeting with Belphegor told her the danger was extreme, and she should be fearful, but she didn’t react the way her mind told her; now, she knew why. All the pent-up emotions during the last three months had been released, coming out as tears.

  Nathan’s explanation had been disturbing. A Fallen Angel, banished from Heaven, had taken up residence in the small, dusty town, but not by choice. It was his prison, and he used the east side of the block as his collection site for souls he had collected; no wonder she didn’t like going into the basement.

  Her whole life she knew about Angels and Demons, who didn’t? But she never had dreamed they existed physically for the world to see. Yet, standing next to her was her Watcher, Cason, and Cody’s. Both were beautiful with light emitting from them, but she saw no wings.

  The only Fallen Angel she remembered from the Bible was Lucifer; she had no idea there were others. To think what she’d read in college about Hell was real made her dizzy.

  Her face had paled as Nathan, Leona, and Cody told her about what was happening. Bergen held her hand, sitting on the floor at Jen’s feet. The gorgeous child was a breath of fresh air, whose very presence soothed her and kept her from wailing in anguish. She was here now, safe from further possession, but what about Tyler?

  “We can’t leave him there,” she finally said through the tears. “Mr. Bel will destroy him. What if he finds the key for the basement? The thing…” Her voice cut short by a sob.

  “Becki has the key.” Bergen beamed.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I asked her to take it. She’ll put it in her hiding spot. He won’t find it there.”

  Jen’s brow relaxed, smoothing the furrows. “Why does she like playing in the hotel? Where are her parents?”

  “Unlike her, they’ve passed on safely,” Bergen replied. The wrinkles returned to Jen’s brow. The child replied to her puzzlement, “She’s been gone at least fifty years, Jen. He’s claimed her as his, so she cannot leave. The same with thousands of others. Not all died here, but a few have.”

  “Like Dorothy? And Wayne?” Jen asked. Cody blushed, diverting his attention to the floor at the mention of his name.

  “I’m surprised they’re the only ones you’ve encountered.” Her head turned to look at Cody. “You’ve met the Queen, any others?”

  “I don’t think so, but it’s hard to tell.” He thought for a moment. “What about Bill?”

  “Oh, no, he’s alive,” Nathan interjected. “He’s just a stupid, old man.”

  “Nate!” Leona snapped. “Be nice. He’s stuck, too.”

  “He had his chances. Many chances.”

  Changing the subject, Leona said to Jen, “You must be exhausted, hearing all this. You wanna lay down?”

  “You’ll feel better,” Bergen added.

  “Thank you. I think it’s a great idea.”

  Leona led her down the hall. With the hunch she’d be having guests, she had organized the room.

  Cody watched the floor as his mind raced with everything he had experienced, starting with the strange shadows in his apartment to his first and only sermon.

  How had the plan gone so incredibly wrong? All he had to do was put Tyler and Jen in the car. Belphegor, though, didn’t seem the type to give up so quickly, and wouldn’t say to himself, ‘Well, it didn’t work?’ and move on.

  Bergen bounced onto the sofa to sit next to him, arm across his back. “Last night wasn’t your only sermon, as disappointing as it sounds.”

  “What? No way!” Cody stated as Nathan’s brow cocked over his unpatched eye.

  “You must,” the child said.

  “And say what? I’m a fraud. Don’t listen to me.”

  The child’s head leaned against his shoulder, and with a voice in almost a whisper said, “The truth is good. What you said last night is good, except about being visited by God.” Bergen’s head lifted to look him in the eye. “You do know it wasn’t God, right?”

  “Yeah, I do. I think I did last night, too, but it seemed more on topic, so I went with it.”

  Bergen laughed, the sound more melodic and mesmerizing than Hector’s laugh. “What a relief.” The child’s hand rubbed his back. “He hasn’t physically been here since he locked Eden.” The child stared into the kitchen as the child stood. “You’ve attracted attention.”

  “From God?” Cody asked.

  “Yes, He knows.” Bergen stopped at the hallway. “But it’s the others you must speak to tonight.”

  “What others?” Cody asked, gaze flicking to Nathan as Bergen disappeared down the hall without answering.

  Nathan shrugged, he learned after the first-time Bergen spoke, at no more than seven months old, the child only gave away so many answers, and if the topic were important enough, you’d discover the rest for yourself.

 
After sitting in silence for some time, Nathan left Cody alone in the living room. Everything had been said which needed telling. Now was the time to allow Cody to decide what to do.

  Hopefully, Cody did as Bergen had suggested. His stomach turned, wondering, himself as Cody, whom the others were. However, in actuality, he didn’t want to know. He was content being in the dark about some of the things happening in the world. Maybe he could sleep better if he didn’t know what he’d already learned.

  For now, he was content to stay hulled up in his home and ride out the storm brewing on the horizon. Bergen played with the cloth doll his mother had made, sitting on the floor in the sunroom. Leona read a book on her reader; Circus Tarot it said at the top of the electronic page.

  If he were lucky, he wouldn’t have to face the darkness again as he had before Bergan was born, when he had lost his eye.

  He’d known nothing about what was happening in Shoshoni until one drunken night he’d stumbled across the street from the bar, then fell in a heap on the sidewalk in front of Sam’s old store.

  When he woke, he was inside the Shanley lying on a urine-soaked mattress on the floor in the basement. Naked women and men wrapped around each other. How was what he saw possible? In Shoshoni of all places, but somehow, he was in the middle of an orgy, fully dressed.

  Awkwardly, he loosened his belt as he rose. He wanted a piece of the action. His movements caught the attention of a woman with beautiful dark skin.

  Her full breasts seeped milk which slid down her abdomen to the tender lips of her womanhood. His arousal grew. A cool hand caressed his cheek, then moved below his chin, lifting him toward her breast. His tongue flicked the dripping nipple. Sourness filled his mouth, and an involuntary gag forced the liquid from his lips. He pulled away from her grasp, toppling back onto the mattress with his jeans restricting his legs as they held above his knees.

  A ragged snarl formed on her mouth, displaying uneven rows of teeth. A smiling man joined her, staring down at Nathan sprawled on the mattress. He reached his hand to Nathan, offering to help him to his feet. Nathan noticed something shiny from the man’s crotch and focused on it in the pale light.

  The man’s smile broadened at the attention, retracting his hand, and standing straight with toes almost touching the mattress.

  His erection jutted toward Nathan with the round gleaming metal covering part of the inflamed head of his penis. The object seemed familiar, but Nathan didn’t recognize it from his perspective. The man’s fingers, pinched the object, gradually pulling it from the hiding place.

  Nathan’s eyes grew large, seeing the man remove a large nail from his cock. His heart sped up as others joined the two around the mattress. All rubbed themselves and their companions, watching him, and tempting Nathan to join the festivities.

  The alcohol had burned from his system as panic erupted. He just wanted to go home, eat some eggs, and go to bed. But his body had other ideas, as his erection grew harder and harder with the visions of undulating bodies parading before him, doing acts he’d never dreamed possible.

  “Join us,” the man with the nail said. “Be one with us.”

  “I just want to go home.”

  “You owe us,” the man continued. “There are no free samples.”

  Nathan stared back at the man while he knelt, forcing his jeans around his filled manhood. “I have some cash.”

  The man’s head tilted back as growling laughter came from his mouth.

  “Money won’t pay for what you’ve tasted,” the woman oozing sour milk from her breasts screeched.

  “Then what?” Nathan asked, still fumbling with his jeans.

  “Join us and find out,” the man replied.

  Nathan searched the others. A man devoured another to the hilt with his face planted deeply into the other’s pubic hair.

  Another woman slapped her breasts, reddening the tender skin, her laughter tittering and shrill. A trio of men filled a woman with one man lying on the floor entering her, another man stabbed at her from behind, and the third pressed himself into her mouth. Ecstasy seeped from them.

  The scent of them filled Nathan’s nostrils with what his mind told him was dry soil and roses mixed with the faint undertone of rotting flesh.

  He wanted no more to do with the group as they moved from conquest to conquest but never peaking. He noticed none touched the mattress where he squatted; though their hands and appendages reached for him, they didn’t make contact.

  He was imprisoned on the fetid cushion, sentenced to watch them. Looking past them, he found a door in the gloom with windows darkened with a mess of swirling paint. He needed to get to the door. But what if it’s locked? He screamed in his mind. They will be on him in a flash.

  The only chance for survival was through the door, and he needed to get through it soon if he didn’t want to become another of their rapturous victims.

  He lunged into the throng of masturbation and depravity from his island, startling them to shrieks which returned to moans, thinking he was joining them.

  Pushing through them, some realized his intentions, grabbing his arms and legs to keep him from escaping their lair. His arms flung them off. The man with the nail in his cock reached the door the same moment as Nathan. His mouth a razor line grimace.

  “We will have our payment.” He snarled, holding the nail firmly in his fist.

  Nathan grabbed at the doorknob, but his hand missed it as the nail swished near him. With one hand, he pushed the man back, and the other took the knob, wrenching the door open.

  The others who had approached, stepped back as though the air pushing in from the outside burned them. The man with the nail wasn’t scared from his task, lunging the nail toward Nathan’s face.

  Darkness came to his right eye with a fiery sensation in his head. A loud shriek echoed through the chamber, and outside dogs barked their response.

  Nausea rolled through him, almost pressing him to the floor. He forced himself through the door and up the weathered, wooden stairs to the sidewalk above.

  His shaking hand went to his face. The nail jutted from the oozing socket. Bile erupted from his mouth, spraying to the ground.

  Not knowing what time it was, he stumbled across the street to the bar, hoping someone was still there. The door pulled open, and he fell inside in a heap.

  A woman behind the bar screamed. Bar stools fell over, rushing feet clamored on the floor. A voice yelled for Marge to call the police.

  Nathan didn’t know how many hours had passed when he woke in the hospital. Darkness enshrouded him, and though he tried with all his might, he failed to absorb light. He moaned in terror.

  “Don’t remove the bandages, Nathan,” a woman said; he didn’t recognize the voice. “You’ll need to leave them on until the doctor returns.”

  “In the hospital?” he asked, his mouth dry.

  “Yes.” Her warm hands pulled his hand away from his face. “You’re lucky. The doctor will explain everything when he comes in. Get some rest.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  While I was with them in the world, I kept them in thy name: those that thou gavest me I have kept, and none of them is lost, but the son of perdition; that the scripture might be fulfilled.

  John 17:12, KJV

  Cleaning the wounds on his back the best he could, Tyler decided not to alert Mr. Bel about Cody and Jen leaving to avoid another uncomfortable meeting with him. He’d not worry about it as he was sure they’d come back with enough time for Cody to prepare for tonight’s talk.

  The divots on his shoulders barely broke the skin, and the scratches on his back were no more than light ridges. How had they produced so much blood? More blood than they should for their shallowness. The strange woman in the room with her accent and scent had given him pleasure as had the woman in the bathroom where he now stood.

  The similarities between them were profound. The perfume they carried in their wake was the identical exotic, earthy musk. Somehow the fragrance was fami
liar as though he’d smelled it a thousand times before, from where he didn’t know.

  Their bodies were supple and easy to touch, their mouths passionate. Then there were their eyes. They had shared the same distant look. The glassiness not quite reflecting the light as it should. Each had played the role of a woman from the past. Dabbing a small amount of antibiotic cream on his shoulders, he grinned at himself in the mirror.

  Back in the living room, he laid a towel on the sofa to not stain it with the salve, then sat, leaning back gently.