PRIMROSE AND BRIMSTONE
by
Jason Mueller
Copyright © Jason Mueller 2017
Cover Copyright © Ravenswood Publishing & Pixabay 2017
Published by Dark Serpent
(An Imprint of Ravenswood Publishing)
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher and/or author.
Ravenswood Publishing
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Autryville, NC 28318
http://www.ravenswoodpublishing.com
Email: [email protected]
Paperback orders can be made through Createspace
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Printed in the United States of American
Second Edition
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN-13: 978-1974683215
ISBN-10: 1974683214
To Jakey, Abby, Livvie, and Mikey. I love you.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
A House Divided
Big Foot
Channeling Tina
Cougar
BLOOD TOME
REMEMBER ME
ESOTERIC BLISS
CONFESSION
DADDY
DARK WHISPERS
SHOWER TIME
GOD FORGIVE ME
DEVIL’S DAY
HALLOWEEN
HUNTERS
IDOL ME
LIFE BITES
MOMMA MAY I
NIGHT, NIGHT
REALLY
SHADOW
SHOWER TIME
SNUGGLE LOVE
WON’T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR
A HOUSE DIVIDED
Eighteen-year-old Chloe Montgomery sat in advanced biology trying not to puke her guts out as the teacher droned on and on about synaptic fluid and axons and dendrites. This semester was human biology and would be transferable to the community college next year after graduation from high school. She was not happy. She needed to concentrate but had started having headaches a month ago, and they had become more severe and frequent. They were to the point of being almost unbearable, but her mother refused to take her to the doctor.
Her mother refused to do much of anything anymore. She spent most of her time drunk, chasing men—hoping to land one that might take care of her. It was stupid, Chloe thought, the men her mother Carol drug home only used her for sex, and then they were gone, leaving Carol even more despondent and distant.
Chloe wanted to escape her mother and her constant state of depression, drunkenness and promiscuity. She had hopes and dreams; wanting to be a nurse, and then maybe even a doctor. Chloe knew she had no desire to follow in her mother’s footsteps and had maintained her virginity; almost in defiance to her mother’s lifestyle.
Chloe’s boyfriend Brad was miffed at Chloe’s stand on sex, but he loved her and was willing to wait, at least for a little bit. But he was turned on by Carol’s good looks and sexual deviance; which she did nothing to hide when he was visiting. She would entertain men in her room with the door wide open, and make eye contact with Brad, locking eyes while she was pounded, and spewing the most sexually perverted things Brad had ever heard. It was even worse than porn on the internet and left him agitated. And to his shame, as much as he loved Chloe, he would masturbate to the sexy scenes he had witnessed at Chloe’s house—jerking himself as he thought of Carol.
What was worse is that Carol would speak to Brad while she was naked. The poor kid would be hypnotized by her huge tits as they swung back and forth while she made another drink. Chloe thought Brad would fuck her mom if he ever got the chance, and that was why he stuck around. She didn’t really know; she had a lot of doubts.
Chloe couldn’t hold it anymore; as she ran out of the classroom, hand over her mouth, praying to God that she would make it to the restroom instead of puking all over the hall like a little kid. She barely made it and breathed a short sigh of relief as her stomach emptied itself of its contents. She hurled repeatedly, and the pressure made her head pound even worse. After dry-heaving, she regained her composure. She washed her face and hands in the sink, and everything went black.
She woke up an hour later in the emergency room; the room was awash with bright lights which made her head pound and forced her to keep her eyes closed—which scared her even more. She flailed around, terrified and confused. Strong hands held her arms while a woman’s face appeared over her, blocking out the glare of the light.
“Chloe honey calm down,” the woman said. “It’s ok baby, you’re in the emergency room. You passed out at school and they brought you in by ambulance. We’re trying to get a hold of your mom now. Do you know where she is?”
Chloe struggled to understand the words that the friendly woman had spoken to her. But as she tried to gather her thoughts, a searing pain shot through her head; everything went dark again.
Carol Montgomery was sitting on the toilet in a dingy apartment of a man whose name she struggled to remember. She had met him the night before at the bar, and they had hit it off. He seemed like a nice enough guy and was attractive. They had left the bar together, both more than a little tipsy, to seal the deal, so to speak. She clung to him as they walked down the busy street to her car.
Carol finished in the bathroom trying her best to clean up. She stepped out, wishing she had a toothbrush, gum or a mint; as she could still taste him. Carol climbed onto the bed running her hand along his leg, letting her fingers linger on his limp cock as she snuggled in next to him, hoping that he would be different. But she could feel him stiffen when she put her head on his chest he was done with her.
Feelings of sadness, humiliation and anger hit her all at once, Carol wanted to cry, but in her mind, she convinced herself that she would not make a scene. If he didn’t want her, she couldn’t force it. She had tried in the past but it hadn’t worked out. Those relationships—or shells of relationships—were painful and never ended well.
She had learned the hard way.
Carol got up, grabbed her purse and dug for her phone wanting to check for messages, she found only one. She listened to it as she gathered up her clothing. The man on the bed was pretending he was asleep so he would be spared having to say goodbye and make empty promises to keep in touch. But she knew they never would. For this, Carol was grateful; she wanted to dress and escape the feelings of rejection. If she had her way, she would tie one on tonight and maybe, just maybe, she would get lucky again.
As Carol listened to the message she sighed. Something was wrong with Chloe, and she had been transported to the emergency room. There was always something wrong with Chloe, it seemed; some trauma or drama she was never good enough. She had probably been complaining about her headaches to the school nurse again. No one understood that Chloe tended to blow things out of proportion.
Fuck it all, Carol fumed. There was no other choice; she had to go. She dressed quickly and headed out the door, slamming it behind her.
As she drove to the hospital, Carol became a little angry. It was just like Chloe to end up in the emergency room and run up another bill for her to deal with. Carol was as unlucky with jobs as she was with men and never seemed to keep one for long. It never occurred to her that her alcoholism and addiction to painkillers might have affected her ability to keep a job. Instead, being the typic
al addict, she consoled herself with playing the role of the victim.
The bosses were always playing favorites. Others were ass kissers, sleeping with the boss, or any other excuse that Carol could come up with to push the blame off on someone else.
She reached the hospital, stopping at the desk where an older, grumpy lady shoved a clipboard at her with various release forms.
“But I want to see my daughter!” She demanded.
“Your daughter is having tests done,” the grumpy lady said, dismissively. “Right now, I need you to fill out these release forms and insurance information and someone will be with you as soon as possible.”
Carol snatched the clipboard and angrily stalked to the waiting room. When she had filled out all the paperwork, she took it back to the old hag at the desk, slamming down the clipboard. The old woman never looked up, and her lack of response pissed Carol off even more. She turned, stomping back to her seat.
An hour later, a doctor came out from the emergency room doors and was pointed in her direction by the mean old bitch behind the desk.
“Miss Montgomery,” he said. “I’m Dr. James. Would you come with me please?”
Carol wondered if something was actually wrong with Chloe as she followed the doctor past the old receptionist. Carol tried to shoot her a dirty look, but the old bitch didn’t bother to look up from the computer screen as she clacked away at the keyboard. With a sigh of frustration, Carol continued, wondering if this day could get any worse. She needed a drink in the worst way right now and maybe a little sexy fun.
Carol did her best to pull her mind back out of the gutter and concentrate on the business at hand. She loved Chloe in her own dysfunctional way, but like most addicts she loved herself even more; as she followed the doctor into a small conference room.
He motioned for her to sit down at a small table. She took the seat he had motioned towards and noticed that he wasn’t all that bad looking. Too bad she couldn’t find a nice doctor to marry, she thought as she rearranged her tits, trying to gain his attention. Unfortunately, the doctor didn’t seem to notice or care and sat for a second before starting.
“Miss Montgomery…” he began.
“Please doctor, call me Carol,” she purred, leaning forward.
“Miss Montgomery, your daughter is sick. It took us a while to figure out the cause of Chloe’s headaches and dizzy spells.”
“Really?” she said. “That’s great, doctor.”
She didn’t even comprehend the words “sick”. In her mind, the only thing that was important was she okay, in the immediate sense.
“Miss Montgomery,” the doctor continued, “Your daughter is facing brain surgery to remove a parasitic twin!”
The doctor fumed at Carol’s antics, and her inability to care enough about her daughter long enough to pay attention.
“A what?” Carol questioned with all thoughts of trying to seduce the doctor gone. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll spare you all the technical details, but when you conceived Chloe, you were pregnant with twins. Only, one twin was absorbed by the other fetus which would be Chloe. It’s called the vanishing twin syndrome, and often, the absorbed twin is dead, and absorbed with no negative side effects. But in Chloe’s case, the parasite seems to still be alive on some level, as its sharing in blood flow. That, and we are picking up two sets of brain waves.”
“Doctor, you’re saying that there is another person inside of my daughter?” Carol stammered.
“Not exactly,” the doctor continued patiently. “There is part of a brain, a few teeth and what appears to be one eye attached to the parasite. A person? No. Tissue, if you will. We think it may grow, causing pressure on Chloe’s brain, and that is causing her symptoms.”
“Is there anything you can do?” Carol interrupted again, a little creeped out by the thought.
There was also a fear that this would interfere with her social life. In her constant self-indulgent thinking, she didn’t realize that the doctor had already said they were looking at doing brain surgery.
Patiently, the doctor repeated and expanded on what he’d said earlier. “We’re looking at brain surgery at this point to remove the parasitic twin,” he continued. “If it works, we believe it will solve the problems, and Chloe will have a full recovery. She can live a happy and productive life, but there is a lot of risks involved. Chloe could die from the surgery, but she will die if she doesn’t have it. That’s a fact since the pressure will increase as the parasite grows.”
The doctor mistook Carol’s concern; not realizing that she was worried more for herself than her daughter and felt a little guilty for his earlier thoughts.
“That’s great,” she said. “How long will she take to recover?”
She wondered how long she might be stuck in that little shit hole trailer she rented, taking care of Chloe. God, she hated that place.
The doctor paused for a second. “It’s hard to tell, to be honest,” he said. “I did some preliminary research and there have been very few cases reported. We will keep her overnight at least, maybe even a few days, and do more tests. We’re also are putting together a team to study her case and devise the best way to go about removing the parasite doing no harm to Chloe.”
“Wait. You said she would be fine?”
“In theory, she should be.” He replied. “But the fact is, Ms. Montgomery, we are cutting into your daughter’s brain and removing a mass that shares blood flow, and has its own brain function. She could become brain damaged, or even die from complications. Not that we’re expecting any, but it’s always a possibility. Understand she is a very sick young lady.”
Dr. James did his best to sound confident, although he wondered how much this dingy bitch understood what he was saying. Being a doctor, he could see all the signs of chronic alcoholism and drug addiction. He had often wished there was a medical term for being white trash, but alas there wasn’t. He really disliked this blond bimbo before him, and he disliked not being able to keep himself detached. Chloe seemed like a good kid from what he could tell. She was well mannered and spoke more intelligently than her mother.
“We’ll get you back to see her in,” he said, finally. “We’re still running tests. The next couple days will be intense for her. She will need you. There will be lots of doctors and tests while we get this all sorted out.”
He got up from the table. “I’ll be seeing you again.”
Carol made her way back out to the waiting room once again taking her seat. She sat there and fidgeted anxiously. She chalked it up to not liking hospitals, but the truth was she was sobering up, and her body was reacting to it. Time seemed to be at a standstill as she texted a few of her male friends, making plans for the evening. Chloe was an adult, practically she thought to herself. She wouldn’t need Carol to babysit her. Besides, nurses and doctors were more qualified to take care of her than she was, she justified.
Chloe laid alone in her room. Unfortunately, home wasn’t any different from this. Her mother was never home anymore, and if she was she was fucking every man she could find like a whore. She was scared, and a little freaked out by the news she had received earlier in the day, and once again her mom was nowhere to be found.
How could she have a twin inside her head? Was it alive? Did it think? Feel pain? The doctor had told her they had actually found brain waves coming from it. Was it reading her mind? Did it know they would remove it and kill it? If so, how did it feel about that? What did that mean; and what of the eye and the teeth? She shivered at the thought of it all.
The thought of brain surgery was scary to her. What if they slipped with the scalpel and killed her, or worse yet, she ended up with brain damage? Where in the hell was her mom? Why couldn’t she put her first for once?
A knock on the door brought Chloe back to reality as a nurse around her mother’s age stuck her head in the door.
“Chloe, are you ok,” she questioned as she walked into the room.
Having been a nurs
e for twenty years, and a mother herself, she knew Chloe was not ok.
“I’m OK, I guess.” Tears ran down her cheeks.
“Well, it doesn’t seem that way, sweetie.” She said taking Chloe’s wrist and checking her pulse. “I’m Mary.”
She stood there quietly, holding on to Chloe a little longer than needed to take the young girl's pulse; just to hold onto her for a little while. Mary noted her pulse was slightly elevated, but she knew it was from stress and not any medical condition. Sensing the young girl was upset over her mother’s absence, she cut right to the point.
“So, where’s your mom at?” she asked as she busied herself checking the I.V. monitor and the line that ran to Chloe’s arm.
“Who cares?” Chloe snapped.
“Obviously you honey? You look like you could cry.”
Mary turned, facing the young woman. Chloe could no longer keep it in; tears ran down her cheeks. Why couldn’t her own mother show the care and concern that this stranger did?
“So, where is she?” the nurse pressed.
“Probably at the stupid bar, or shacked up with some man she picked up at the bar. I know it sounds bad but my mom’s kind of a slut.”
Mary couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing at the salty words coming from such a young girl.
“Is it really that bad?” she asked.
“It is,” Chloe answered glumly. “I mean she isn’t here, is she? She doesn’t have a job. She’s a drunk and has been for forever. I think it is the reason why her and my dad aren’t together anymore. He couldn’t handle her anymore.”
Mary pulled up a chair. She had many other patients to see too, but none as emotionally fragile as Chloe at the moment. A young girl facing brain surgery and the traumatizing aspect of having something living inside of her, no matter how undeveloped, had to be scary. And to make matters worse, she lay here with no one to support her, comfort her, or to tell her that everything would be all right—even though there was no guarantee.
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