by Lucian Bane
“I was hoping you wouldn’t,” she said turning quickly on top of him. Before he knew what she was doing his ankles came together hard and fast in another cinching.
Oh fuck. Fuck. He brought his knees up, looking at her now. “Don’t make me hurt you, Chaos, please.”
She angled her head at him, the look in her eyes reflecting the unspoken wounded question. Would you hurt me? Clearly it was something she’d wagered he would not do. Not ever.
“So you’re going to rape me? Is that it? Jesus Christ.” He closed his eyes tight when she mounted his stomach. What was he supposed to do?
Be still.
He gasped as she took hold of his boxers and began lowering them despite his legs being drawn still. Be still? Be still? Maybe he could pretend to cooperate.
“Okay, okay,” he said, straightening his legs. The second he did she sat on them. He grit his teeth when she pulled his boxers down more and took soft hold of his dick and began to stroke with both hands. All his hard work to keep himself pure for his wife was gone under her touch.
She’s dead.
He growled against the heat, against the voices telling him to let it come. That it was good it was necessary. But it made no sense. Who was it necessary for?!
Her mouth was on him and his head jerked down on its own to see. Her eyes were on his face, haunting and holding him captive in some turmoil, some hell she was locked in. This is what she endured all her life. Forced pleasure. Only for her, there was no pleasure, ever.
Why was she doing this? If he only understood then maybe he could help. Solomon clenched his teeth in resistance to what his body seemed to crave even while his mind didn’t. How quickly he fell. It wasn’t until he saw tears on her cheeks that it hit him. She needed him to not be like all the others.
The heat slowly left his groin. “This isn’t what you need, Chaos,” he gasped, catching his breath.
She increased her efforts and Solomon focused on what had initially helped him, holding his ground with all his might.
She finally stopped when it wasn’t working on him. “What do I need,” she gasped. “I need nothing that you can give me!” she whispered. “I know that. I’m not even asking for it.” She shook her head, looking severely hurt. “I was just… trying to thank you.” The final words were bitter and sad. “For helping me. I wanted to show you I was good at giving pleasure.”
Solomon allowed himself to look at her as she knelt next to him, wiping the tears from her face like a child who’d only wanted to please. It broke his heart. “You don’t have to do that to say thank you, Beautiful.”
She gasped and hurried off the bed going into the bathroom. When she came out, panic hit him at seeing her fully dressed and headed to the door. “What are you doing?”
“I need to think.”
“Please don’t go, Chaos, it’s not safe.”
She turned and looked over her shoulder while at the door. “It never has been,” she whispered, then left out.
Solomon fought to get untied, finding her knots only getting tighter as she predicted. The wolf whined when he rolled off the bed and hit the floor. “Come on,” he grunted to the animal. “Help me out. Help me get loose.”
The wolf angled his head with more whimpers, seeming to try to understand, only not, of course. Solomon carefully worked the material at his ankles against the fireplace stone until it tore. Then he quickly ran to the kitchen for his knife. And what would he do with it?
He looked around and hurried back to the fireplace, kneeling next to it and quickly working the tie against the stone as fast as he could.
How far could she get on foot? Did she know the woods? Shit, he needed to hurry.
By the time he was free and getting dressed, it felt like an eternity had passed. What if she went back? God, please don’t let her. Solomon hated how invoking God brought bad déjà vu feelings after what happened the last time he had.
But he’d heard her scream. That had to mean something.
Dressed and armed with his shotgun he ran out the house. “Chaos!” he yelled, hurrying to his truck and getting in. A flash of white startled him and he jerked to find the wolf had hopped in the back. Good, he could use all the help he could get.
Starting the truck, he drove slowly down his winding driveway, searching the woods and yelling her name out of his window. Fuck. Thanks to him, she was as black as all the shadows in the midnight sweat suit. The only color was the red of her hair, and in the woods he doubted he’d spot it. He needed light. A flood light, not a flashlight, not moonlight.
He made his way to the bottom of the driveway and drove to the highway next. Nothing. He sat at the stop sign looking all around. God, please show me, show me which way she went. The truck grumbled quietly as he waited for direction. And waited.
Solomon banged the steering wheel three times. “Show me! Show me where she went just point my fucking truck in the right direction, please!” he yelled. “I beg you!” The shaky whisper came last, but another eternal minute brought the same verdict as before. A big fat nothing.
He turned toward Miss Mary’s. He had to talk to somebody, he couldn’t keep this in. She might know something, anything. He drove slowly to her house, praying by some chance Chaos had come this way. His heart sank as he turned down Miss Mary’s driveway knowing the odds of her even finding it were remote.
Once at Miss Mary’s he knocked on the door, trying not to bang too loud. “It’s Solomon,” he yelled, letting her know.
“I’m comin, I’m comin.” He waited for the door to open while looking all around in the woods for any sign of movement. She opened it finally. “Solomon?”
“Miss Mary,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry to wake you, may I come in?”
“What in tarnation? You know you don’t ask me that youngin.” She wheeled herself out of the way and Solomon entered, shutting the door and locking it.
“I need help,” he said then, pacing.
“Whatever is wrong?”
“Well, see,” he fought to hold his voice at calm, “I’ve been taking care of a woman at my house. I found her half dead in the woods.” He suddenly knelt before her and whispered, “She made me swear not to tell. But Mary, after spending a couple of days with her I learned some things, I dug around in that mind of hers.” He nodded and went on, “I wouldn’t be here telling you this if I wasn’t desperate, but I don’t know what else to do. She’s into some really bad things. A-a sick group of people that likes hurting her and they call it good. She was half dead when I found her Mary. I’m not exaggerating.”
“I know you ain’t,” she said frailly.
“She tried to get sexual with me and I refused because she doesn’t need that,” he said, grabbing hold of the woman’s frail hands. “She just wanted to thank me. With sexual pleasure.” He closed his eyes as his heart ached in his chest then he grabbed his head. “Now she’s gone and I don’t know where she’s gone but I need to find her.” He went back to pacing. “I’m worried she’ll go back there, I’m worried what they’ll do to her.”
“You got a name for this youngin?”
“She went by the name of Chaos but I think it’s not her real name.”
“Good Lort that’s a frightful name.”
Solomon tried to remember details that might help. “She-she mentioned a desecration had to go on.” He looked at her. “You ever heard of that?
Her hand fluttered to her mouth. “Don’t say that here, son.”
He froze staring at her. “What? De-“
“Shh!” she ordered with a shaky finger at him. “Not in my house. I haven’t heard that forbidden word in half a century,” she whispered.
“What does it mean?”
She shook her head. “Can’t talk of it.”
Solomon stared at her stubborn look, knowing she meant it and wouldn’t budge. “I can’t leave her Miss Mary. I have to help her.”
Her mouth suddenly went hard. “Ain’t no helpin her if she’s in that.”
/> “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I need to know.”
“Aint’ nobody a hundred miles of here gone tell you anythin. Cept crazy Jimmy Ray Smith. They don’t mess with him, he’s already messed with in the head.”
“Where is he?”
“Oh he don’t be havin no company. He’ll shoot you plum dead if you visit,” she said plainly. “Then eat you for supper.”
“Should I go to the police?”
She shook her head more. “You don’t be doin that son, lessen you wanna be escorted outta town in a box.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. There be secrets in this town that just ain’t supposed to be unearthed I think.”
“Where is he? This person? Jimmy?”
“I ain’t tellin you!” she exclaimed.
“Mary,” he gasped, back on his knees before her. “Six years ago, my wife was abducted and murdered. And I couldn’t save her. Remember that night I came here thinking you were in danger? That was the night I found this woman. I heard her calling me in my dreams. Me. Screaming in horrific terror. Then I found her hanging half dead in the trees. That has to count for something Mary, please, I beg you. Tell me where to find him.”
The old woman’s eyes had gone wide and her hand covered her mouth. “Oh son, you done sure got your momma’s gifts, didn’t you?” She shook her head, pressing her lips together before blurting an address.
“Where is that?” he asked, leaning and kissing her cheek.
“In Weston’s haunted woods behind the asylum.”
“The asylum? What asylum?”
She balked at him, her slack jaw shaking a little. “What asylum! Boy don’t tell me you never heard of the asylum in Weston.”
He tried to remember. “You mean the big hospital?”
“It’s an insane asylum. Or was,” she whispered. “Luna Hills Trans Asylum,” she added even quieter. “They done closed it down years ago but that crazy preacher bought it up and is so called restoring it for only the good Lord know’d what. And Jimmy Ray is the only living soul I know crazy nuff to answer those kindsa questions.”
Solomon stood and hurried to the door. “Thank you Mary. I’ll be by here tomorrow to see about you.”
“You need to be careful,” she said, sounding so very dreadful.
“I will.” He turned and looked at her. “Say a little prayer for me?”
“Eva, single, day.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Grandmother!” Chaos embraced the woman after sneaking into her room off the main house.
The old woman gasped at seeing her, like she were a ghost. “Child,” she whispered, hurrying to the door and locking it behind her. “What are you doing here?”
Chaos shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “I… haven’t been properly prepared, Grandmother. I thought… you would tend to that but it’s not done.”
Her gray eyes darkened as awful dread wrinkled her forehead. “I-I never got a chance,” she whispered, her hands fluttering to her trembling mouth. “I thought I was to do it after the graduation,” she gasped to her. “But when I was talking to Master, he acted like I had done it before.” She shook her head with a frail gasp, “I was too scared to say anything.”
Oh God. Chaos looked around, thinking, pacing. She suddenly hurried to Grandmother, gripping her hands. “Now, what about now, you can do it now?”
A loud banging shook the door and the old woman held Chaos’s hands tight. “Yes?” she called, her old voice shaking.
“Master wants to see you. And Chaos.”
Dread slammed Chaos as they both gasped. He knew she was there. Of course he would.
“Coming right there,” Grandmother called.
“He said immediately.” Sounded like Reginald’s voice. One of the newer Chosen.
“Right away,” Grandmother said. She turned a terrifying look at Chaos, making her stomach clench. To see the old woman with that look bothered her more than her own fears.
Chaos hurried to the door, Grandmother behind her. She didn’t want the woman in any more trouble. Not again. She was always getting in trouble for Chaos, always trying to make her life easier, always doing things that upset Master.
As they hurried down the familiar stone walk to the main house, the limbs above tunneling the walkway were suddenly like the boiling sheets she’d been swaddled in. Gasping, she hurried faster to get away from the suffocation even though in the back of her mind, she knew her destination would likely be worse.
Her half-healed body ached with over exertion while dread made her heart bang in her chest. Master would only get angrier while waiting.
She knocked softly at his private chambers on the back of the large residence.
“Enter!”
The rage in that one word made them both jump. “Let me talk,” Chaos whispered to Grandmother at her heels. “I’m here, Master,” Chaos called, hurrying in.
He spun to her. “And just why are you?” He peered at her left and her right. “Are you not missing something?”
Chaos swallowed. “I came to inform you that the sacrifice does not wish to bond with me.”
He drew back like she’d spoken blasphemy.
“I have tried, Master,” she implored, forcing her voice firm and her hands to remain still at her sides, spine straight. “Not wishing to harm the most sacred ceremony by doing the wrong thing, I came to implore of your wisdom in how to proceed.”
“All of these years of training,” he began, fury growling in his tone, “and you cannot find a way to attract the sacrifice?”
“As you have said, he is special, Master. He only binds with females that he loves.”
“Loves!” he thundered. “You will return to this Solomon Gorge at once and inform him that we do not need something as useless as love for this sacrifice.
Chaos flew to Master and knelt at his feet. “I will see to it Master. I’m sorry. I can use force if you think I should.”
Many seconds passed as Chaos waited and braced for the sure impact coming. He finally petted her head and the silence that followed was the most dreadful Chaos had ever endured. “Because this will lessen the power we would have gained had he been a willing vessel… you shall be Desecrated with him. This is the way. Shut! Up!” he roared at Grandmother who let out a sudden sob.
Chaos didn’t understand. “I’ve been Desecrated many times, Master.”
“This is the Desecration of Desecrations!” he roared at her, shoving her by the head so that she fell over. “It is final!”
Chaos remained on the floor, watching his bare feet beneath his black robe as he headed to the door. “And I must cleanse you before I send you back. You will ensure he stays there until I come for the mule myself. Have your fun with him, daughter. Because once I come, Desecration will commence.”
She didn’t understand. “But… we have till the end of the month Master,” she gasped. “Give me a chance to at least bring the sacrifice. I can do it!” she choked out bitterly.
“Grandmother,” he barked. “Prepare her for the Fourth Floor.”
Panic hit her. “But why?” Oh God, she hadn’t meant to yell it.
He jerked back to her. “Don’t question me child!” he roared, his face trembling in rage. “Is it not enough that you’ve tainted the final ceremony with your failure? You must be cleansed after that one,” he bellowed, turning to go then jerking back again. “Do you think I want this? That this is fanciful times watching my own daughter threaten the city with more curses and ruin? This—is—the Desecration—of Desecrations!” he raged. “And it cannot fail!”
Chaos gasped and nodded, despite the horror of the Fourth Floor tearing through her body and mind.
The dream. The dream hadn’t been a nightmare, but a premonition.
And yet all she could think about was failing. She’d failed Master. She’d failed the Order. Oh God help her… she hoped she didn’t fail the world.
****
Solomon drove thro
ugh Weston and his foot left the gas pedal in abject shock at finally coming upon it. The Asylum. Sitting right there on the corner of Second street like an elementary school might, only a massive, mile long structure resembling a medieval castle. Right in the middle of town! How did he not hear about this thing? He’d heard of the hospital, but who envisions a seven hundred year old mammoth of ancient stone?
‘Nobody talks about it.’
Clearly they did not. And yet how did they not?
He hit the gas and headed toward the woods behind the asylum, searching for a road that would get him there. Finding one, he took it until he got to a decrepit metal gate with a No Trespassing sign hanging on it. Solomon got out and looked all around for a moment then inspected the barrier. Finding a chain loosely hanging around a post, he opened it up, then got in his truck and proceeded to trespass.
A few feet in, he stopped and shut the gate, again looking all around for any signs of being watched or even noticed. He wasn’t sure what was worse at this point, to be followed in or not be. The creep factor in the woods was off the charts hair raising. Back in his truck, he put his shotgun across his lap and proceeded down an overgrown drive leading hopefully to find the so-called town outcast named Jimmy Ray Smith.
The road gradually became less discernible as he went until he stopped and stared all around. Here we go. Easing out of the truck, his new adopted pet jumped out to stand next to him, eager for adventure.
Good for him.
He patted his head, letting him know he was glad for the company. Which way was he supposed to go now? The dog growled long and low right as the sound of metal clicked behind him.
“That’s as far as you need to be goin.”
The gravelly voice froze Solomon. “Hello, sir.” Slowly he raised both hands while standing stock still.
The man snickered. “Figures it’d be a city boy venturin in my woods. You can’t read?”
“I can, sir, but I needed to talk to you.”
“Turn slow so I can sees this fool and tell your dog to settle down.”