Freedom from Conscience: Deliver Me from Evil
Michael Cross
Copyright Michael Cross 2014
Published by Black Rose Writing, Publishing at Smashwords
www.blackrosewriting.com
© 2014 by Michael Cross
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.
The final approval for this literary material is granted by the author.
First digital version
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Print ISBN: 978-1-61296-368-6
PUBLISHED BY BLACK ROSE WRITING
www.blackrosewriting.com
Print edition produced in the United States of America
Thank you Josefine Faber,
for another fantastic cover design.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
“Great! I had arrived in time after all!” I thought to myself as the nurse prepared to insert the needle into my arm. Traffic had been terrible and I thought they would not have time at the blood donation clinic to fit me in. However, I had arrived just in time! I was so relieved since I had an appointment with someone who would not let my act of generosity go un-noticed.
Most people would probably find it odd that having a needle piercing my vein would still bring me warm feelings – emotionally warm feelings. I was not so much concerned with the life I might be saving; for me it was the almost irresistible high I could only feel when my skin was penetrated by the cold metal and the blood pulsated from my body.
This was all part of my therapy; my own idea of course, not someone else’s. I had a PhD in psychology and did not need anyone to tell me how to cure the connection I felt between losing my blood and a sense of euphoria. I understood how I had formed this strange association and only I understood how to wean myself away from it. And now that I knew I was pregnant again, I would have to forego this pleasurable activity for a very long time. Perhaps I needed to make sure I could end my fixation and then, maybe, once I knew I was master of it, I could later resume my indulgence. Of course, while pregnant it might deprive my child of nutrients, and that was something I would never allow. I wanted all my future children to be strong, healthy and intelligent so nothing that could threaten that in any way could ever be allowed.
I guess some would find my “addiction” rather strange; I would have as well before what happened to me over a year ago. I still had an incredible phobia of needles up until then. Even after giving birth to my three children I had felt terrified of any injected pain killer…more than the births themselves. It had not helped that I had seen bodies dismembered, in fact it only had intensified my anxiety as I knew the basic workings of the human body all too well. Maybe it was a power thing, the holder of the needle being in total control, able to do to me what he or she wished. How could I know what was in the syringe after all? Or maybe there was indeed some sort of psycho-sexual connection I made between this instrument and the act of penetration. Or perhaps both these thoughts were actually connected. I cannot say, but I had feared these objects more than one can describe in words…until that lost summer.
So how did I learn to love what had once been the cause of such fear and dread? I almost find it difficult to describe the process. I have always wanted to be in control of things but the events of that summer, five months after my daughter was born, would almost kill the woman ‘Melanie Lindberg’ – at least in mind, if not also in body. In a real sense she did die, only to barely be resurrected after plunging into the depths of Hell. And had events occurred just a little differently I might be dead, or worse, the fragments of my mind trapped inside a deteriorating shell that had once housed a dynamic, although dark, spirit. Yet, here I was... I had survived, and was fully recovered – well, except for the lingering blood fetish.
Chapter 1
Prior to the events that would have destroyed most people I had what could only be described as an almost ideal life! I was married to the most remarkable, understanding and loyal man anyone could ever hope for. He loved me, he loved our three children and he brought me happiness in any way he could. We had a wonderful relationship – sure, there were issues around how much time he spent doing volunteer work for his church, but that was okay with me; maybe even a little amusing as I could tell when he was, to borrow from a Biblical metaphor, trying to plant “spiritual seeds,” in me. I knew he wanted to have us share this part of life too. Yet I resisted at every turn, although I did go to church with him and even assist in the children’s Sunday school class.
We shared an intense love for the esoteric questions in life, exploring new ideas and enjoying new things. He was only home two weeks out of the month, except in the summer where he had six weeks at home for vacation. The rest of the time he was working in Japan. Those times we had with each other were fantastic! We did as much as we could as a family, but we also had Nicole who would volunteer to watch the kids so we could have time for ourselves to go off on adventures in nature. We were both adults but it seemed we both saw the world through the eyes of two children exploring creation.
We were in so many ways unconventional. We could go to a hippie gathering outside of Eugene, and then spend the night at the rodeo there. We could go fishing on a boat in Newport the next day and then go hiking and sit naked in a mountain hot spring. We were definitely made for each other.
Then there was Nicole, my friend, companion and the love of my life as well as Matt. Yes, I really did appreciate variety since Nicole and I lived as “husband and wife” when Matt was out of town. It was somewhat problematic; having to keep almost everyone, especially Matt, in the dark about this part of my life. The only person who knew about our arrangement was Nicole’s mother, who had made it clear to me on several occasions that she felt I was cheating her daughter out of true companionship. We did not see it that way, or I assumed Nicole felt as I did.
Nicole’s mother felt I was incredibly selfish. Yet in my mind I was actually being generous in a way few could match. I was able to bring happiness to two people, Matt and Nicole, as well as being able to create two families; my own family with Matt, and Nicole’s family with a bit of assistance from Matt. Some might say I had used Matt by helping Nicole become pregnant without his knowledge, but one must admit that the ends do often justify the means. We discussed if we would ever let him know that Nicole’s children were his, through the “theft” of his genetic material. We concluded that sometimes what a person does not know will not hurt them.
Of course, that issue was probably not the main one that could jeopardize his comfort in our marriage. I had no idea how he would react if he found out his wife was involved with another woman. I knew there were married couples who had similar arrangements but I doubted one of the parties was unaware of the other. And while Matt was extremely open, the most non-judgemental person I had ever met, he was quite religious and finding out his wife was both bisexual and
“married” to another woman might be more than he could take. I reasoned that it was for his own good that he be kept in the dark. I was unwilling to take any risks with either our relationship or his happiness – and who says “honesty is the best policy” anyway?
Yet as much as I was in love with Matt I was equally in love with Nicole. We too enjoyed the same things in life. It is really hard to explain the differences between my times with Matt and those with Nicole – they were equally as wonderful, equally as intimate…just different.
I remember once lying in bed a few months after Nicole had given birth. It was the middle of the night and one of the twins had woken up. I was extremely tired from working on the completion of my thesis, and Nicole told me to stay in bed and she would take care of him. It was really nice that we both were nursing and could switch off when we were together. It seemed so ideal that I wondered how the so-called nuclear family wound up evolving in the first place. It certainly was less stressful when I was with Nicole than it was when I was with Matt, after all, can a man really relate to what a woman feels when she has a young baby? And when I was caring for Nicole’s daughter I could feel almost as much bonding with her as my own children. Perhaps that feeling intensified as I knew my children and Nicole’s child shared the same father.
Another time when Nicole was pregnant with her second child, and I with my third, I remember looking at her asleep on the bed. I reached over and gently put my hand on her abdomen and placed my other hand on mine. The feeling was indescribable as I contemplated the life growing inside of her and the life growing in me. I also wondered if these children knew each other in another part of existence – were they already friends who had agreed to come down at the same time? I pondered how awesome it would be if our bringing forth children was doing God’s will.
If our actions, our lives and our families were all part of some grand destiny, the path taken to get there was not an easy one. I had met Nicole and her now-deceased husband Daniel while in high school. They, along with a charismatic teacher I felt instantly attracted to named Mark Lindberg (my husband’s brother) brought me into their organized circle of vigilante serial killers. After having taken the lives of an assortment of very evil people another teacher, Cindy Green, began to connect Mark to the killings. Sadly we had to eliminate her but as irony would have it when Mark discovered what we had done to Cindy he felt so guilt-stricken he took his own life. As time progressed Nicole and Daniel moved on, leaving me in loneliness.
Fate brought us together again at Daniel and Nicole’s wedding. However, Nicole tricked me into believing Daniel had actually killed Mark so I would help her take his life. Only later did I discover her real motive was to save me from Daniel who intended to kill me. After we killed Daniel, Nicole and I became lovers again and resurrected our old pastime until I suspected she had murdered my ex-girlfriend Sara and had her sights set on getting rid of Matt as well. Fortunately for everyone involved Sara turned up alive and I was able to save Nicole from my trap just in time. Afterwards Nicole and I were united in a secret ceremony and later Matt and I married as well. Our killing spree stopped and we settled into our rather unconventional and secretive life together. I hoped never to have to see the life of a human being depart from their eyes ever, ever again.
I often wondered about the lives Nicole and I had already taken. Were we doomed by God to eventual damnation or could our creating families be a way to make restitution; at least for the people who had been prematurely taken from this world for no other reason than posing a threat to our freedom and our lives? Of course, there had only been two truly innocent victims the way I looked at it – Cindy and the poor young hippie girl in the mountains, but that was a large enough death toll I suppose. Then again there had been many others who we had taken life from, but the way I looked at it they had all deserved it.
Maybe one of the things that helped bond Nicole and I together so tightly was our secret past. And that was something that Matt could never, ever find out about. I could possibly contemplate our telling him about our relationship; in fact sometimes I felt like just blurting it out to him. However, telling him about our other secret was non-negotiable! Total honesty could not, would not, happen. I not only feared how total disclosure would affect the way he saw me but, most importantly I was not going to allow such knowledge to shatter his innocence. Losing his brother was hard enough. I could not risk also losing him – either in body or soul.
Funny, I remember once asking Nicole about the possibility of us all moving in together. After the birth of her second daughter I could see how difficult it was for her to be completing her studies in her nursing program and taking care of two small children on her own when Matt was in Portland. I had just arrived from dropping Matt off at the airport and she looked so very tired. We started dinner together but while I was at the oven I looked over at the table and noticed she had passed out; so much so that when her baby started crying she did not even wake up. I was able to take care of her child, and make sure her other daughter, and my children, were okay. Nicole only woke up when I returned and started putting plates on the table. She apologized and I assured her it was okay.
Later that evening, when the kids were in bed, we were lying on the couch together, sharing in a moment of intimacy we were starved for. Afterwards we snuggled up to each other and I again asked, “Nicole, you seem so tired whenever I see you. You have two kids and you are essentially a single mother half the time. Shouldn’t we at least think about the idea of all of us all living together?” She shot back, “Melanie, we have talked about this before. Even if I did agree to the idea you have no idea how Matt would react. And don’t you worry, even in just a little part of your mind, that if we all lived together that perhaps something could evolve between Matt and me? What if things happened and the whole arrangement crumbled before us, leaving us all hating each other? Is that a risk you are willing to take?”
I had thought about that before. I had wondered how I would feel if Matt and Nicole were to form a bond with each other, one which might be stronger than either my bond with Nicole or that with Matt. I guess I had reasoned that it would not happen, and that Matt might accept that I was the one to be shared, and that Nicole’s resolve to never, ever be with a man would continue. Yet if something did evolve between them could I share either of them with the other? I thought I could. I answered her, “Nicole, I think that would not bother me, in fact it might help all of us connect to each other on a deeper level.” Nicole rolled her eyes, “Come on Melanie, I admit I get jealous when you are away with Matt. How would you react if you knew Matt and I were being intimate in the bedroom while you were taking care of the kids, or doing one of your projects?” I laughed, “So you have thought about it?” She denied it and pushed me towards the end of the couch, both of us laughing as I grabbed onto her. I continued, “Come on, there is a part of you that has considered it!” She smiled and threatened to push me off entirely, “Melanie, stop it! I told you that once I get my third daughter that will be the end of needing a man for anything.” I laughed, “Whatever!” and asked, “Well, maybe we could keep the arrangement as it is but all live in the same house, would that be okay?” Nicole then asked, “Well, then how would Matt feel when we were off alone in the bedroom? And even if he were as unconventional as you are, wouldn’t that mean the neighbours would all assume Matt was a polygamist? I mean he is a Mormon.”
I had not thought about that too much. Sure, the idea of the group marriage had come across my mind many times but what about the consequences of people thinking he was married to both of us? Yes, it was unfair but the image one projects in society can affect everything in life. Could he lose his job? Could he be questioned in his church? It was kind of strange that if Nicole and I were discovered to be having a lesbian relationship there were laws to protect us from discrimination, but that would not be the case if people even suspected we all were living together as Matt’s wives. She actually had a good point, which I reluctantly admitte
d to her.
I thought about bringing up one other issue, perhaps the most important, but I was too tired and so I pulled Nicole close to me and held her in silence. While I gently caressed her hair I wondered about the kids. They were too young to question now, but at some point they would begin to notice things. How long would it be before one of my children asked their dad about their “other mom” or why their dad did not kiss Nicole quite the same way their mother did when she came over to visit. It was the ultimate living in denial to believe we could keep our secret from Matt forever.
And, speaking of secrets, I heard Nicole’s oldest daughter cough in the other room. She appeared to be okay, so I did not get up to check on her; but then I had to bite my lip so as to control the urge to laugh and wake Nicole. The other secret that could hurt me if Matt found out was that he was the father of Nicole’s children – thanks to my, well, deception. Ironically, my twins looked like me, green eyes and dark auburn hair. Despite Nicole’s black hair her children were blondes. Their other similarities to Matt did not escape everyone’s attention as demonstrated when we had celebrated my twins’ birthday and Matt’s sister came down to visit. It was a nice get-together, her and her husband, Nicole and her kids and my family. The only potential problem was that Matt’s sister was admiring the children when she commented out of nowhere, “What beautiful children you have Nicole, your daughter reminds me so much of my children when they were young. In fact, she looks identical to my oldest daughter.” That was an uncomfortable observation except Nicole replied, “Thanks for the compliment, her father looks a lot like Matt so maybe that’s why.” It was good that she assumed Nicole was married, perhaps taking note of her ring, and I was glad Matt was in the other room and not part of this conversation.
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