The Beloved

by Gonzalez, J. F.

  Brad frowned.

  “We’ve been very supportive of each other,” Gregg continued. “In a way, we’re like each other’s AA sponsors. We talk to each other about our mutual problem every day. And we both...take pains to avoid thinking about it or getting into the habits that would make us fall off the wagon. It’s hard, though. It’s real hard, especially for Mary. I mean, she misses her father terribly. I know she does, but you saw her room.”

  “There’s no pictures of her dad in her bedroom,” Brad said. “Just her mom.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But Elizabeth’s picture is all over the house,” Brad said, looking at Gregg. “Her presence is all over the house. So what’s—”

  “It’s not thinking about Elizabeth that worries me.”

  Brad opened his mouth to respond but didn’t say anything. It was as if he didn’t know what to say.

  “I miss Elizabeth terribly,” Gregg said, feeling his voice crack again. “And I try to think of all the good times we had and I’m very comforted that she died trying to help Mary and fight this...this evil that came into our lives. I’m very proud of her for that.” Gregg felt his voice cracking more and he took more deep breaths to calm himself down. “I suppose I’ll always miss her, you know? And...and I know life will go on. I’d like to think that I’ll get stronger, that I’ll heal. I’d like to think Elizabeth would have wanted me to move on with my life, to be happy. She would have wanted me to go on living, to take care of Eric and Mary, and I’m going to do that. I’ve promised her I’m going to do that and I think everything in that area has gone okay so far. I mean, what I did to save Mary—”

  “You played the best role of your life when you did that,” Brad said.

  Gregg nodded. He took a deep breath. “Fuck yeah, I did. And it took that to kick me in the ass again. I’ve made a promise to Elizabeth now that I’m never going to abandon my muse again. It saved Mary after all.” He took another deep breath, wiped his eyes, looked at Brad. He managed a small smile. “I have an audition next month with a local theatre company in town. My way of reconnecting with my muse, keeping my promise to Elizabeth that I’ll always feed it and take care of it.”

  Brad nodded, his features conveying that he understood, but he remained silent.

  “But...I get lonely sometimes.” Gregg turned to Brad and a tear rolled down his cheeks. “You know what I mean?”

  Brad nodded. “Yeah. I know what you mean, bro.”

  “No. I don’t think you really know what I mean.”

  Brad was silent again, that confused look on his face that suggested he didn’t know how to respond.

  “You ever done hard drugs?” Gregg asked.

  The question seemed to take Brad aback a bit. “Well...yeah. I mean, I’m not proud of it. I was young and stupid and did a lot of things I probably shouldn’t have done. Why?”

  “I’ve never done hard drugs,” Gregg resumed. “Just beer and pot, that was the extent of it. And I was never a heavy drinker anyway, and for the longest time I could never relate to the mindset of an alcoholic or drug addict. I used to think people like that were losers. You know, that they couldn’t control their drinking, that they were dumb enough to do cocaine and get hooked and...well, I used to think they deserved it. Is that shitty or what?”

  “I guess,” Brad said. “I mean...in a way it is, but then sometimes I feel the same way too.”

  “You ever done heroin?”

  Brad bristled. “No.”

  “Neither have I. And from what I hear, it’s pretty heavy stuff. It’s supposed to be the best high in the world, and that after doing it once you want to experience that feeling over and over again, so you do more. I guess that’s the way it works for people who get hooked on coke or speed or booze. Something in their chemistry connects with whatever substance they take and feeds those pleasure centers, makes them want to feel that high, that pleasure, again, so they do more. That’s when it hooks you. That’s when you become dependent on it.”

  Brad didn’t say anything and Gregg could tell his friend—Elizabeth’s friend, but his now—was looking worried. Gregg shook his head, sat up in the lounge. “Don’t worry man, I’m not strung out on smack or anything. And I haven’t become an alcoholic. This is the first time I’ve been fucked up like this in a long time.”

  Brad mustered a smile.

  “But I do know what it’s like to be an addict now. And Mary does too. And I’ll tell you why.” He swung his legs over the lounge and sat facing Brad, summoning the courage it was going to take to make this confession. He took a deep breath, willed the tears back, and then took the plunge. “I’ve been lonely and...sometimes...when I’m by myself and I get...lonely...I....I masturbate and...”

  Brad had that look on his face that seemed to say, dude, we all play with ourselves. It’s human nature, no need to get all guilty about it. Hell, I beat my meat at least once a week on general principle and my wife and I have a very nice, satisfying sex life, thank you very much. But he didn’t say anything; he listened calmly, waiting.

  Gregg read the expression on Brad’s face and shook his head. “It’s not what you think. Sometimes...when I masturbate...I....I think about Diana Marshfield.”

  There. He’d said it. And then he buried his face in his hands, feeling the shame pour out of him. “And I can’t help it! I just think about how it was when I was with her and I take my dick out and beat off like a teenage kid jacking off to a Playboy Centerfold. And I know it shouldn’t make me feel guilty, but it does! It just does! And the more it makes me feel guilty, the more I think about Elizabeth and how I wish she were here with me and then I turn right back around and think about what it would be like to fuck Diana just one more time and then I start playing right into the fantasy and I jack off again and—”

  And then Gregg Weaver sobbed.

  Brad Campbell sat on the chaise lounge, not knowing how to respond. He sat there awkwardly as Gregg cried, patted his shoulder, lending support. Gregg cried, wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bawl like that.”

  “It’s okay, man,” Brad said, rubbing Gregg’s shoulder. “I think if I were in your shoes I would’ve cried too.”

  “I just wanted to tell you so you’d understand a little more.” He looked up at Brad, wiping tears from his face. “For the book.”

  Brad nodded. “I understand. For the book.”

  “Is that some fucked up shit, or what?”

  “Yeah. It is.”

  “All I can do is be a source of support for Mary,” Gregg continued. “Be her sponsor. And she’s mine. We’ve both been through the same thing, and we both have the same...afflictions you might say. Hers is a little different, but it’s the same nonetheless. We help each other.”

  “When’s the last time you thought about Diana while jacking off?”

  “Three weeks ago.”

  “How do you feel now?”

  “You mean like, am I over feeling this way?”

  Brad nodded.

  Gregg shook his head. “No. I feel the itch every day.”

  “What about Mary? How’s she?”

  “As long as we don’t mention her father, she’s okay.”

  Brad was now sitting up, stone cold sober. He was leaning forward, looking Gregg square in the eye, having a nice man-to-man talk. “So what are you going to do? Are you afraid she’ll—that it—will come back?”

  “Yeah. But only if I give in to my urges. Mary feels the same way. That’s why we avoid all mention of Ronnie. If she thinks about him, sees his picture, she starts to get openly weepy and she dreams about him. She wants him to come to her, to take her away. And...well, we’ve both talked about this and we both feel that the more she dreams about him like that, the more it will awaken...it...and it’ll answer that call. It’ll come to her and she won’t be able to resist.” His voice dropped a notch. “She understands something happened between me and Diana that night and that...that I have to avoid thinking about Diana in the same way she
has to avoid thinking about her father.”

  “So what do you do?”

  Gregg smiled. “I do what it says in the book—what the AA guys call the Alcoholic’s Anonymous Handbook. I bought a copy two months ago, and I’ve been imparting Mary with some of its lessons.”

  “Really?” Brad nodded.

  “Yeah. I know it’s going to be hard, but I think we’ll make it. Long as we have each other, we’ll make it. We just have to take it one step at a time.”

  “One step at a time,” Brad said, nodding. He looked up at Gregg. “Yeah, I can dig that.”

  Gregg smiled back at Brad and they stood up, collected the empty bottles, and went back into the house, closing the sliding glass door behind them.

  September 6, 2002 - May 28, 2003

  Lititz/Lancaster, PA

  Fountain Valley, CA

  About J. F. Gonzalez

  J. F. Gonzalez is the author of over fifteen novels of horror and dark suspense including Back From the Dead, Primitive, Bully, The Beloved, Survivor, and is co-author of Clickers series (with Mark Williams and Brian Keene respectively). His short fiction is collected in four volumes, of which the latest, The Summoning and Other Eldritch Tales, is available as an exclusive digital title. He also works in other media including film, the technology sector, and other areas of publishing. He lives with his family in Pennsylvania and is currently working on his next novel. For more information, visit him on the web at www.jfgonzalez.com.

  Also by J. F. Gonzalez

  Clickers

  (Co-written with Mark Williams)

  Click Click Click Click

  Phillipsport, Maine is a quaint and peaceful seaside village. But when hundreds of creatures pour out of the ocean and attack, its residents must take up arms to drive the beasts back.

  They are the Clickers, giant venomous blood-thirsty crabs from the depths of the sea. The only warning to their rampage of dismemberment and death is the terrible clicking of their claws. But these monsters aren’t merely here to ravage and pillage. They are being driven onto land by fear. Something is hunting the Clickers. Something ancient and without mercy.

  Clickers II: The Next Wave

  (Co-written with Brian Keene)

  The first wave was just the beginning...

  The United States is in ruins. It has just suffered one of the worst hurricanes in history, the people are demoralized, and the president is a religious fanatic. Then things get really bad - the Clickers return.

  Thousands of the monsters swarm across the entire nation and march inland, slaughtering anyone and anything they come across. But this time the Clickers aren’t blindly rushing onto land - they are being led by an intelligence older than civilization itself. A force that wants to take dry land away from the mammals.

  Those left alive soon realize that they must do everything and anything they can to protect humanity no matter the cost.

  This isn’t war, this is extermination.

  Clickers III: Dagon Rising

  (Co-written with Brian Keene)

  They thought it was over, but the second wave was only the beginning. In the aftermath of the Clickers and Dark Ones’s siege and a coup against an insane President, America rebuilds. Change has come, and a better future is promised to all. But promises can be broken and there may be no future at all because deep beneath the ocean a new terror awaits. Dagon, god of the Dark Ones, is waking up...and if humanity doesn’t stop him, then mankind will face extinction.

  Trapped on a South Pacific Island, the cast of Clickers and Clickers II: The Next Wave join forces with a mysterious group of occult agents to face off against the Clickers, the Dark Ones, Dagon, and an all-new threat - the deadly obsidian Clickers. The stakes have never been higher. Dagon is rising...and humanity will fall.

  Survivor

  Author’s Preferred Edition

  Before Hostel...before Saw...there was Survivor.

  It was supposed to be a romantic weekend getaway. Lisa was looking forward to spending time alone with her husband, Brad, and telling him that they are going to have a baby. Instead, it becomes a nightmare when Brad is arrested and Lisa is kidnapped. But the kidnappers aren’t asking for ransom. They want Lisa herself. They’re going to make her a star - in a snuff film.

  What they have in mind for Lisa is unspeakable. They plan to torture and murder her as graphically and brutally as possible, and to capture it all on film. If they have their way, Lisa’s death will be truly horrifying...but even more horrifying is what Lisa will do to survive...

  It Drinks Blood

  New Castle, Pennsylvania, during the tail end of the Great Depression.

  Robert Brennan has never completely forgotten those days, even though he has tried to forget them. But when the nursing home he lives in receives a patient he remembers from those dark darks, it takes his mind back to a period marked by terrible, blood-soaked violence...the very kind marked by the twisted perversity of the stories he used to write for the weird-menace pulps...the kind marked by the real-life fiend that stalked the hobo jungles in search of fresh blood!

  Primitive

  It began as just another day for David Spires and his wife Tracy: coffee, breakfast, and getting the kids ready for school. Then the bottom dropped out of civilization.

  The world ends not with a bang or a whimper, but with a dizzying downward spiral. Instead of the rat race of commuters scurrying to beat the clock, humans are now packs of animals reduced to snarling primitives.

  David, Tracy and their daughter Emily, along with fellow survivors, leave Los Angeles for the safety of the country where fewer people means fewer primitives. But as they venture farther away from the city, they realize an unnatural force is at work. Civilization didn’t just fall apart...it was overtaken by an ancient evil that was present before the first cave paintings. Human history has no formal record of it, but the dark presence that’s fueled nightmares since time began has crept out of the shadows...and its influence is growing.

  The Summoning and Other Eldritch Tales

  The Summoning contains seven collected tales of Lovecraftian-inspired nightmares from J. F. Gonzalez. Featured in this collection are two original pieces: "Holes" and "The Summoning" (co-authored with Mike Baker).

  This exclusive digital collection of stories includes:

  Opening The Way: An Introduction

  Tattoos

  Going Home

  The Revenge of Cthulhu

  Holes

  The Man Who Had a Death Wish

  The Summoning

  The Watcher From the Grave

  Each story contains special story notes penned by the author!

  Back From the Dead

  Tim Gaines was the town pariah. Mocked and teased continuously since he was in the sixth grade, he approaches his senior year of high school with a sense of cautious trepidation. Years before, when he was in the sixth grade, a group of boys led by Scott Bradfield - a popular, well-liked kid from well-to-do parents - spread a vicious rumor that he was a devil-worshipper. The rumor stuck, and is believed by most of the students and even a few of the teachers and administrators. It’s a rumor Tim can’t beat, and one he sometimes feels he’s brought on to himself due to his love of horror novels and movies.

  Now Tim has become friends with a loose-knit group of kids who have also become social outcasts thanks to other rumors about them by the student elite. With their mutual support, Tim has begun to come out of his shell. He’s going out with them, being invited to parties, and even begins to have a romantic interest in a girl, something he never thought would happen to him in high school.

  But all that will change when Scott Bradfield and his friends set their sights on Tim again. Only this time, they need his help. Like most of the student body of Spring Valley High School, they sincerely believe Tim Gaines is a devil-worshipper. And they believe he has a dark power. Now they want to use him and that power for their own sinister plight...

  ...To bring back the dead homeless man they’d k
idnapped and brutally beaten to a pulp in the guesthouse that resides on the Bradfield residence.

  They want him brought back not because they're scared of getting caught for his murder, but so they can savagely beat and murder him again...

  ...and again...

  Fetish

  Something is in search of human prey in the gang-ridden communities of Los Angeles...

  When the member of a notorious street gang is found decapitated and dismembered at the bottom of the LA River, it quickly becomes apparent something is amiss. Detective Daryl Garcia connects it with the murders of six other gang members killed in the same way. It looks like the work of a serial killer, but the gang members don’t think so. They believe the murders are the work of rival gang members.

  Someone has a dark desire of the most depraved fetish...