Satan's Breath

by Temple Madison

  “That’s what grew stronger that night, not rebellion, not bitterness or hate, only the intense desire to survive! And you did, Blaze. You made yourself into a celebrity known the world over. You’re successful, Blaze. In every phase of your life, you’re a success. And you’re worth it, Blaze. Did you know that? You fought your way up because you’re worth it. It wasn’t an accident, or a fluke, you deserve it! Remember that!

  But it wasn’t over.

  She heard something and turned. Back in the dark shadows of the shack, she saw her uncle’s dead body move. The grunts and groans echoed as if from out of a deep grave. When he was on his feet, he moved the curtain aside and staggered toward her, his body covered with blood. His eyes were dark, his skin pale, and the sight of his dead body walking around made stark terror leap inside her.

  All at once, with a growl, he grabbed her. But just then a voice from somewhere far away began telling her moment-by-moment what to do. With the voice guiding her, she took her elbow and brought it forward, then thrust it backward into the gut of her uncle. He doubled over, but recovered quickly and lunged toward her.

  When she saw him coming, she grabbed his arm, twisted it, and sent him sprawling on the floor. While he was down, she gave a swift kick to his groin, and then remembering all the years of torture she’d experienced at his hands, she spied an umbrella standing in the corner and grabbed it. At the end was a spike. She lifted it and brought it down as hard as she could. But right before her eyes, while she was wielding the spear toward him, his image disappeared, and she stabbed the wooden plank of the floor with grinding fury.

  Just then, her gaze lifted and when she looked toward the back of the gunshot shack, she gasped at what she saw. Through a small part in the curtain her uncle was still lying there, covered with blood. But this time it was different. Her aunt had already burst into the room and cried out in her gravelly voice, “Oh, God, no!” Had Blaze made her way back to her room, she would have seen her own image standing very still with a glinting blade in her hand, and her aunt comforting her with those soft arms that Blaze would never know again. She knew without seeing it that the scene was taking place just as it had that night, every movement, every word. But she couldn’t stay, she had to leave, and felt herself arrowing up toward that old Georgian moon, and out of the picture.

  When Blaze came to, she saw the fuzzy outline of a man looking down at her. She immediately reached up and grabbed his face and began kissing it. “Thank you, Erik, thank you, darling.”

  The man slowly pulled away, his words muffled by Blaze’s kisses. “Well, you’re very welcome, Ms. Alexander. I don’t usually get such a nice response. By the way, my name isn’t Erik, it’s Jerry.”

  When Blaze’s eyes cleared and she saw a dark-haired someone named Jerry instead of Erik, tears filled her eyes and gradually found their way down her cheeks.

  Seeing Blaze’s tears, Dr. Stone turned to Jerry and whispered, “Thank you, Jerry. You were great, but I think I can handle it from here.”

  Dr. Spencer nodded, and then hesitantly rose from the couch and quietly left.

  Turning to Blaze, Dr. Stone pulled out a handful of tissues and pushed them toward her. “Blaze, you’ve made a fantastic breakthrough. You have defeated your uncle Ralph. You’re no longer a victim.”

  “It was a success then?”

  “Oh, yes. Even more of a success than I had imagined. You have no reason to think ill of yourself. You’re a very brave woman. You proved it tonight. Not a lot of people could have done what you did tonight. You see, even though your uncle was only a memory, you were still subject to his sick perversion, and in your dreams, forced to do what he wanted. That’s why it was so important that you go back there, and that’s why my colleague, Doctor Spencer, was so helpful. Tonight, thanks to Jerry’s expertise in karate, you kicked your uncle’s sorry ass.”

  “God, it seemed so real! But one thing I don’t understand. How could my uncle walk around after he’d been stabbed? I—”

  “That was the ghost of your uncle Ralph that you’ve carried around with you all these years. That night so long ago, you took him with you, gave him the power to rise from the dead and continue to torment you through your dreams. He also needed to be defeated, and he was.

  “Since you were the one that gave your uncle the ability to rise from the grave and rape you night after night, you were the only one who could take that power away from him. And that’s what you did tonight. You killed the phantom that has been haunting you all these years. It’s important to realize that you did it, not by running away, but standing up to him and fighting. And you did it with a few karate moves, and an umbrella!”

  “An umbrella. You know about the umbrella? How did you know what was happening?”

  “You didn’t realize it, but you were talking to us the whole time. That’s how Jerry knew what to tell you to do, and when.”

  “Well, then,” Blaze felt a little foolish, “I guess your decision to have him here was a good one.” She gave a slight shrug. “So, what’s next?”

  “Well, we’ll take you back into as many episodes as it takes to restore your confidence to where it should be. In essence, we’re repairing all the tears in your psyche that the years with your uncle Ralph have caused. We had to begin at the beginning, which is the reason for the session tonight. I must warn you, though, there’s every chance that the others might not be as successful as this one. It’s good that the worst one is out of the way. Now if you have a setback, it won’t be quite as serious, and we can safely get you back to where you should be.” The doctor looked at Blaze with a weak half smile. “I hope I’m not giving you too much at once.”

  “No, I understand.”

  “That’s good, because I’m going to have to tell you something I’m afraid you’re not going to understand, or like very much.”

  “Oh?” A touch of alarm began to rise in her. “What is it?”

  “You know,” the doctor spoke slowly and peered at Blaze to see her reaction, “when Erik made forceful love to you that night, he did both you and me a favor. I’m sure that you felt like you were being raped up to a point, but he didn’t hurt you, and he was driven by love.”

  She hesitated. “I understand he even revived some feelings in you that had been lying dormant for years.” She sat forward in her chair and leaned toward Blaze. “Blaze, do you realize you were actually burying your natural urges? A few more years of doing that and your sex drive would have been virtually nonexistent. Somehow, this guy instinctively knew what to do, and he did it. Kudos to him!”

  “Doctor,” Blaze pushed herself forward on the couch, “how can you defend him? He was impatient. He didn’t want to wait for the natural progression of your treatment.”

  “Blaze, stop that! You’re trying to stir up that old hatred again. And for what? Just because he made the mistake of trying to help you? Blaze, recognize it for what it is. It’s the old defense mechanism trying to rise up in you again. You still think you can’t love him, so you’ll settle for hating him. Don’t let that thing control you anymore.”

  Blaze couldn’t seem to quell the anger she was feeling, and got up and began pacing. Suddenly, she whirled around and faced the doctor. “Someone told me it’s natural to have a defense mechanism inside you.”

  “Yes, Blaze, it is. But usually that defense mechanism isn’t borne out of unnatural treatment like you’ve had to deal with.” The doctor came over and put her arm around Blaze’s shoulders and squeezed slightly. “You really shouldn’t be listening to someone who doesn’t have the proper credentials. I’m sure they mean well, but you can get in a lot of trouble. If I’m to be your therapist, you must listen only to me, understand?”

  “Of course,” Blaze exhaled, and then lowered her head like a guilty child.

  “If you have questions about something someone has said, or whatever, bring them to me, and we’ll discuss it.” She turned Blaze’s chin up so their eyes met. “If my treatment is going to work, you must le
arn to trust me. Is that clear? And no tantrums, okay?”

  “All right.” Blaze frowned impatiently. “I’m sorry.”

  The doctor looked down at her watch. “It looks like your time is up, so I’ll let you go. Remember what I said, and Blaze, take care of yourself and get lots of natural sleep. When you come in next week, I want you bright and cheerful.”

  Blaze felt an immediate pang of guilt from the doctor’s remark about natural sleep, and remembered the sleeping pills she’d been taking. She reached down, grabbed her purse, and rushed toward the door. Before she opened it, she turned. “Thanks, Doc, but just for your information, natural sleep is highly overrated!”

  Blaze quickly slammed out with the doctor staring after her, wondering what her remark had meant.

  A few minutes later, Jerry Spencer came in. “Well, how’d it go?”

  “I’m afraid when she lost Erik Grant, it complicated matters. She’s hurting badly, and unless something happens, I’m afraid it’s going to be a struggle to keep the hurt from damaging her beyond repair.”

  “She certainly is a beautiful woman,” Jerry sat down on the couch.

  “Yes, and that’s been part of her problem, I’m afraid. She attracts men, but because of what she’s been through, they get nothing but a tough act full of smutty talk, and the big freeze.”

  Jerry leaned back on the couch, took his pipe out of his mouth, and then glanced over at the doctor. “How would you like a man’s point of view regarding a woman like Blaze? No Freudian lectures, no psychobabble, just the gut feelings of the opposite sex.”

  “Sure,” Dr. Stone leaned forward and looked at him curiously.

  Jerry took his pipe out of his mouth, and looked at it as he spoke thoughtfully. “Well, most men are attracted to spitfires, or feisty women. When they see a woman like Blaze, they seem to think that her tough attitude and loose mouth gives them license to get rough. That’s why they don’t think it’s wrong to try and force themselves on her. They see her as unattainable, and say she has a sleeping tiger inside, while others say she needs to be tamed.

  “Each of them fantasize about being the one to do it. Now keep in mind these men are usually the rough, crude, unwashed type. The rest of us are a little more civilized, but still you have to keep in mind that a woman like Blaze still brings out a little of the old cave man. We see her as uninhibited and sexy, and a little rough stuff occasionally is hard to resist. A man might be tempted to see how far he can get.” He looked at the doctor and shrugged. “I’m afraid that’ll never change.”

  Dr. Stone sighed. “Poor Blaze, apparently her whole life has been nothing but a bunch of Uncle Ralphs. No wonder she hates men.”

  “Yes.” Jerry chewed on his pipe thoughtfully. “Look, but don’t touch. Get too close and risk getting frostbite, or burned.”

  “So, what’s your diagnosis?”

  His intelligent, degreed gaze slid over at the doctor. “Again, speaking as a man on the street, and incidentally it’s not easy to separate the doctor from the man. But if I did, I’d have to say to bring her out, she simply needs someone who really loves her, someone who knows that beneath all that ‘attitude’ is pure gold. This man, whoever he may be, can tame her if he doesn’t run away at the first sign of the fangs and claws of her sleeping tiger. If he does, then he’ll never know what a night with Ms. Blaze Alexander would be like.”

  “Erik Grant didn’t run.”

  “Who is Erik Grant?”

  The doctor smiled. “The man that woke the sleeping tiger in Blaze and tamed it. At least until his own sleeping tiger roared to life. From the way Blaze tells it, the fangs and claws that showed themselves that night were his.”

  Chapter 20

  Several days later, Blaze was looking at her face in the mirror and had to admit that she looked better than she had in a long time. She thought back to the day Dr. Stone found out about her sleeping pills. Blaze had been sharing a particularly bad experience and the damning words came tumbling out.

  “God, when that happened I popped about three pills…” Blaze’s words faded. Realizing what she’d done, she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead into her hands.

  A sudden flash exploded in the doctor’s eyes, and her face grew stormy. “You did what? What are these pills you’re referring to?”

  Finally, Blaze’s head came back up and she faced the doctor head on. “They’re nothing,” she began, the tone of her voice telling the doctor her objections were just plain ridiculous. “Just some goddamned sleeping pills I’ve been taking.”

  “Oh? And where did you get these pills, Blaze? I certainly didn’t prescribe them.”

  “I…” Blaze hesitated. “Oh, hell, the cat’s out of the bag now, anyway.” She gave a slight shrug. “Okay, so I went to another doctor and got the prescription. Big deal!” She turned on the doctor rebelliously. “So sue me for God’s sake! Send me to my room, take away my TV privileges. Good grief, you treat me like a child for God’s sake!”

  “And why shouldn’t I, when you insist on acting like one? You disappoint me, Blaze, you—”

  “Look, Doc,” Blaze interrupted. “I’m sorry, but I was desperate. I had to have something. Don’t you understand? I was—”

  “Yes, I do understand. I understand that you don’t need my help, therefore I’ll get Wilma to prepare your bill and you can find another therapist.”

  A sudden silence filled the room as the doctor’s words dropped almost noisily at her feet, “N-No, Doc. Please don’t do that.”

  “But Blaze, I can’t treat you if you refuse to follow my instructions. My God, getting pills behind my back is dangerous. I’m not your mother, I’m your doctor for God’s sake. If you needed pills that badly, you should have come to me. I would have understood.”

  “But all this talk about natural sleep, I just naturally assumed you wouldn’t go for it. Hell, it’s nothing but a few pills, I—”

  “Throw the pills out, Blaze, or look for another therapist.”

  “Please, Doc, don’t ask me to do that. I need those pills. They keep the dreams away.”

  “How do you know? You haven’t given natural sleep a chance. You had a breakthrough, Blaze, and your uncle Ralph is in his grave! Leave him there!”

  Blaze exhaled a noisy breath. “You’re right, of course. I haven’t…I mean…I haven’t ruined anything, have I? You know, had a setback, or anything?”

  “I don’t think so, at least not at this point. I shudder to think what would have happened if you hadn’t let it slip about the pills, though.”

  “You have to believe that if I knew it was so important, I wouldn’t have done it.” She hesitated, thinking over her next words. “I’ll throw the pills out, I promise.”

  The doctor’s gaze cut into Blaze with a fierce look of reprimand, wondering if she could believe her. Taking no chances, she grabbed her prescription pad.

  With her pen poised over the pad, she looked at Blaze with an experienced glint in her eyes. “I’m writing you out a prescription, Blaze. If you think you need pills to sleep, this will do the trick. Taken as prescribed, they won’t make you feel heavy-headed and drugged up the next morning.”

  The pen touched the pad and she wrote with a flourish, and then quickly tore the page off and handed it to Blaze, smiling inwardly. It was an old trick used by doctors everywhere. Only she knew that they were nothing but sugar pills, a harmless placebo that would provide Blaze with the crutch she thought she needed. The doctor wasn’t doing anything wrong, only offering Blaze a pacifier as she might any child, until she became confident enough to no longer need a security blanket.

  Now, as Blaze gazed at herself, she had to admit that she felt more energetic, had even begun eating and gaining weight, and her uncle Ralph had been staying out of her dreams. Well, why wouldn’t he? He was dead, after all.

  While stroking her face with the soft, furry strands of her powder duster, she looked down at her outfit. She made a point to dress very carefully today since she had a
meeting with the mayor and the city council. She had no idea what it was about and when she returned the call as requested, the secretary would only say it concerned something that had been brought to the mayor’s attention.

  “Oh,” Blaze said, sarcastically. “That explains everything. Why didn’t you say so, you old bat.” At least she wished she had said it. She was still as much in the dark as she was before.

  Finally, she threw down the duster and looked at her hair critically. “Hey,” she said to her reflection, “nobody likes a frizzy redhead.” She kept smoothing, but nothing helped. “Friggin’ humidity! I hate it with a passion!”

  Finally, when she thought she had everything in place, at least everything except her hair, which she totally gave up on, she walked over and stood in front of her full-length mirror, looking herself over from head to toe.

  Her skirt was short, but not too short, at least she didn’t think so. Maybe her dark hose would disguise her long legs. Her blouse was a little low-cut, but maybe no one would notice. She tried to look tailored and businesslike, but somehow it just didn’t work. No matter how she dressed, she still looked seductive. Things just kept sticking out, like her rounded hips, and her ample breasts.

  “Just what I need in a room full of men,” she mumbled, while looking at herself and tugging at this, and tugging at that. Finally, she turned around and noticed the way the material still hugged her hips. “God, I look like I’m ready to jump out of a cake!” She rushed to her closet and looked once again at her wardrobe, and then lifted her hands in surrender. “Well, how the hell did I know that someday I’d have to meet with the friggin’ mayor?” She gave up and grabbed her purse. “To hell with it! Savannah’s too damned prissy, anyway!”

  * * * *

  The council sat very quietly, waiting for the notorious Queen of Steam. Fingers thumped on the table, thumbs twiddled, and impatient eyes glanced down at their watches.

  Suddenly, a voice came floating out of one corner, “Well, hell, is she comin’, or what?”