Deep, rich colors streamed through the looming stained glass windows running along the length of the cavernous, ornate church. Patrick walked cautiously down the aisle, his pale skin glowing alabaster, his blonde hair silken and shiny in the glaring light.
It seemed to take forever to reach the altar. There, what had to be at least a thousand white candles burned. He could smell the melting wax. Its warm, soft scent inspired in him a strange and overwhelming feeling of uneasiness. He turned back to see the heavy doors slam shut without a sound, the light from the multi-colored windows going out as if complete darkness had fallen outside. Now the only light came from the candles around him.
Then he noticed a figure seated on the front pew, a woman dressed in white with vibrant auburn hair. She was gently swaying, her head bent as if in prayer. Though he couldn't see her face or hear any sound at all, he could somehow tell she was crying, sensing her pain.
Something made him turn back to the altar and the candles, and then drew him past them, back through a darkened doorway, through a small room and down a set of steps that lead outside the church.
Clouds sailed over the moon and it was almost too dark to see. He could barely make out the vague outlines of tombstones around him. He walked slowly, feeling his feet sink slightly into the cold, wet ground as he continued on. Just ahead there was some hint of light coming from what looked like another doorway. As he drew closer, Patrick saw that it was emanating from a large, extravagant mausoleum of imposing white marble with delicate wrought iron trim.
As he entered, he noticed more of the gleaming candles all around the marble room. In the center sat a huge brass canopy bed draped with gauzy netting. Through the gossamer material, he could make out a figure lying on the bed. It stirred slightly as he approached and then as he pushed back the thin sheeting, he could see it was a young man, lying naked on the bed. His skin was smooth and colorless, offering almost no contrast against the stark white sheets. The man looked up at him with piercing, dark brown eyes and a warm smile. His long dark hair was pulled back from his small, delicate face.
“You’ve come back to me,” the young man said softly as he reached out to Patrick.
Patrick moved closer and then suddenly heard a voice cry out from behind him.
“No!” came the panic stricken cry. He turned toward the doorway to see the red haired woman standing silhouetted against the darkness and mist outside. He couldn’t see her clearly and did not understand what was going on. He looked back to the young man with the beautiful eyes for an answer. There was a great sadness in his expression.
“You must go,” he said, turning away.
“But why?” Patrick heard himself asking. Then there was another sound, some high pitched incessant droning that cut its way through the heavy air. Everything went completely black.
After a while Patrick realized that the real world was beckoning him back and that he had to once again leave this place which had come to consume his dreams. He reached onto the bedside table and pounded on the alarm clock to shut it off, still filled with the unease from his dream of the beautiful man he’d seen so many times, yet had never known. He drew in a breath and could almost smell the faint odor of melted wax... *** She was standing in the cemetery again. She’d been here many nights before, wandering around in her flowing white gown, her long red hair stirred slightly by the cool night breeze searching for the man she always met here. Tonight she saw the light coming from the doorway of the crypt.
Her attention was drawn to the crypt as she saw movement from beside her. She turned to see him then. They’d come together here night after night, yet she’d never been able to see his face. Tonight as she moved closer, determined to see him, she was stopped short when she felt something cold, wet and slippery clamp around her ankle. She looked down to see a hand coming from the ground, reaching up for her. She worked herself free, losing a shoe in the process, and ran away into the darkness as fast as she could.
Jade woke in a cold sweat, just as she’d done so many times before, and curled up in her bed, afraid to open her eyes. Later the sun crept into her room, making things seem more real, more safe. She heard her parents stirring in the other room which meant she wasn’t alone. Things were back to normal. For now. ***
Donovan got up and poured himself a glass of orange juice which he gulped down before heading outside to shoot a few hoops in the driveway.
It wasn’t long before his father walked outside and stood beside him, watching him for a moment.
“What?” he asked.
“I was just wondering--”
“If I’d changed my mind about pre-law,” Donovan said, sounding a bit more agitated than he had intended.
“Yes.”
“There will be plenty of time to think about that this semester. I told you, I still have a lot of general classes I have to get out of the way. I can declare a major next semester.”
“Why wait?”
“I’m just not sure what I want to do. I don’t expect you to understand, Dad,” Donovan answered, tossing the basketball aside and running his fingers through his dark, curly hair, pushing sweat back from his face. “You’re the kind of person who always knew what you wanted and it was just a matter of getting it. That’s not me.”
“I just don’t get it, Donnie.”
Donovan paused for a moment, staring at the basketball goal attached to the wall of the garage. Then he looked at his father and spoke again. “I have always had this feeling that I was meant to do something with my life--something important. I’m not saying that being a lawyer wouldn’t be important enough. I’m just saying that I don’t know if that’s what’s meant for me.”
“You are so much like your mother,” he said with a sad smile, looking a bit confused. “She always talked like that...”
“Like what?”
“Like there’s a fate we’re all meant to follow and that things are all planned out ahead of time.”
“And you thought she was pretty weird, too, huh?”
“Yeah. I did. But I loved her very much for it. she kept life interesting. Just like you do. Listen, I guess I’ll just have to relax and let you make up your mind. I trust you to make good decisions. You have so far.”
“Thanks, dad. So, it’s not going to drive you nuts that I’m not declaring a major this semester?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s going to drive me nuts, but I’ll just have to deal with it.”
“Hopefully it’ll come soon,” Donovan said with a smile.
“Your mom would be really proud of you,” his father said, a familiar hint of melancholy in his voice.
Posted by Harbinger on :
You really like these characters don't you Danny? When I read it there's a sense that this is such a small part of a huge story that you have inside yourself waiting to come out. Let it out Danny, you have a lovely story telling style with the best prose on this board!
Posted by Sonnie Bloke on :
You paint with words Danny, and it makes gorgeous lush pictures! More more more......
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Chapter One: The Gathering
“Welcome to freshman orientation,” the perky blonde upper-classman announced. “By now you’ve all had your tour of the Hughes Hill campus. One good thing about our small campus is that it shouldn’t take you too terribly long to learn your way around. Trust me, it’s easier here than at a lot of the bigger schools.”
Jade flipped through her little handbook entitled, “Falling Into Place” with puzzle pieces drawn on the cover. Cheesy, she thought.
“In your handbooks you will find most of the information you’ll need to make the transition to college life easier for you,” the blonde continued. “For the first week you’ll also have your orientation leaders to depend on. We’ll be wearing red ribbons. If you’re lost or just have a question about something, just stop one of us and we’ll be more than happy to help you out.”
Public relations major? Jade wondered. She also wondered how anyone could possibly get lost on this campus. After her first tour she felt like she’d been here all her life and had been telling people where things were all day. The campus only took up three city blocks, with the huge gothic stone administration building located square in the middle and everything else seemingly built up around it. The middle block was home to the classroom buildings, the two outside blocks were made up of the student dormitories, fraternity and sorority houses. It couldn't have been much more simple.
She was so bored after the little orientation leader had droned on and on for over an hour about how tough it could be adjusting to college life that she was almost asleep. When they were finally dismissed, all she could think about was getting back to her dorm room and taking a nap.
“There are all kinds of activities planned for you guys,” the blonde girl announced as everyone was leaving. “Don't miss the picnic on the circle in front of the administration building!”
As Jade walked down the front steps of the union building she turned back toward the dormitories. Nearly everyone else was heading toward the front circle for the picnic.
“Aren’t you going to the picnic?” she heard a voice call from behind.
She turned to see the girl again. “I’m not into picnics.”
“It’s a really great way to get to know people.”
“I’m not interested,” she said over her shoulder as she turned and continued on her way. ***
Patrick sat in his dorm room listening to the radio. He’d been feeling incredibly restless all afternoon. He’d arrived at about ten that morning and gotten all his things unpacked. He had hoped Donovan would be here. He really wanted to talk to him about the weird dreams he’d been having. Donovan was probably the only person he could tell who would listen without thinking he was nuts. Of course he’d have some logical explanation that would make him feel better.
He dialed Donovan’s number and got no answer. Then he thought of Christian. Maybe he’d be there and they could go out and do something mindlessly fun, even if it was just driving around in Christian’s little sports car listening to music.
He tried his number and got no answer there either. Suddenly he could no longer stand being alone in the room with no one around. He turned off the radio and stepped into his shoes, grabbed his keys off the dresser and walked out into the hallway. Then he realized he had no idea where he was going. He walked slowly down the hallway, half hoping that he would run into someone, anyone, that he knew and he would be saved from his solitude. He made it to the outside door without seeing a living soul and then walked to his car, deciding he’d just go for a drive by himself and check back in a while to see if Donovan or Christian had arrived on campus.
He got into his little white Ford Tempo and grabbed his cigarettes and lighter off the dashboard. He lit a cigarette and took a long, deep drag, then let the smoke out slowly, watching it disappear into the air as it floated out the open window. He pulled out of the parking lot and instinctively headed toward downtown. He somehow knew he’d wind up on the riverfront.
After about five minutes he found himself driving down Riverway Drive. He had managed to avoid this place all summer, feeling particularly proud of himself for having been such a good boy. Now here he was again. What was he thinking? Did he want to punish himself with all the bad memories this place had to offer?
Ever the glutton for punishment, he parked his car and walked over to the bench. The bench where he and Jake had sat the night that Jake filled him in on his little secret...
He shook his head, trying to shake the memories, trying to head them off before they all came flooding back again. No use...
His mind drifted back to that cold October night. Hard to forget the exact date. It was Halloween his Freshman year. God, he thought, two years later and I’m still stuck on this...
He could almost feel the cold and knew that if he closed his eyes he would still be able to see Jake sitting there. He stared straight ahead, eyes locked on the glistening water rushing down the river.
The scene replayed in his mind like a bad movie...
“Patrick, I’ve never felt this way about another guy before. I don’t know how to tell you this...”
“I think I know what you’re going to say, Jake. And I think I want you to say it.”
There was a long pause and Jake just stared into his eyes with that dopey grin. Those big blue eyes were full of wonder, excitement and apprehension. “I think...”
“What?”
“I can’t say it.”
“You think what?”
“I think you know.”
“Yeah, I think I do,” Patrick said with a smile.
Then Jake reached out and touched his hand. It was so warm in contrast to the cold night air. It was the beginning of a dream come true... Too bad I didn’t know it was the beginning of a fucking nightmare, Patrick thought to himself now. ***
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Back at Hughes Hill College, Christian had just arrived on campus. He looked around the little dorm room thinking what a far cry this was from the suite he’d had last year in the fraternity house. Not that he regretted leaving the fraternity and those bigoted jerks who’d thrown such a fit when they found out that Donovan was gay.
He knew this semester was going to be tough. Just until people found something else to talk about. But until then he knew there would be whispers and rumors about him and Donovan. When he resigned his membership in Alpha Delta Delta in protest to Donovan’s virtual excommunication he was ready for everyone to start drawing the inevitable conclusion that he was gay, too. He knew the fact that he wasn’t and that he was just standing up for a friend really wouldn’t matter. And it hadn’t. By the time word had gotten around last year, none of the guys would even talk to him anymore.
He really didn’t understand the whole gay thing anymore than the rest of the guys, but he knew Donovan and Patrick and he knew they were both good guys. He didn’t really think it was any of his or anyone else’s business what they did with their lives.
It had really been Patrick who’d opened his eyes to how rough things could be for a gay guy during their freshman year. They’d met and become fast friends. He didn’t even know about Patrick until what went on with Jake.
The thought of Jake was really what disgusted him. He had to respect Patrick for standing up for what he felt, who he was. Jake was still in Alpha Delta Delta, still respected and well-liked by all the guys because he’d just lied his way out of it.
Jake was the one who’d screwed around with Patrick and had really messed him up, yet he would be moving into one of the plush fraternity house suites. And here Christian sat in the tiny little dorm room. This is what you get for being a good guy, he thought to himself as he settled down on the bed looking out the huge window which took up nearly all of one wall of the little room. At least he was overlooking the courtyard between Manford Hall and the library. A decent view.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye he spotted some movement by the corner of the library, a girl coming toward Manford hall from over by the administration building.
As she drew closer he could see that she was a strikingly beautiful girl with long, blonde hair. She was dressed in a pastel summer dress which seemed slightly old fashioned but clung to her curvaceous young body in a most provocative manner.
Christian couldn't help but stare as she drew closer. There was something intriguing about this girl, even aside from the fact that she exuded sexuality with every slight movement. Suddenly she looked directly at him, turning dark, sparkling eyes toward his window. He was momentarily stunned and kept staring instead of turning away. She flashed a strange smile as she kept walking and gradually passed out of sight. ***
Angie Lincoln shuddered slightly as she walked down the second floor hallway toward her new room. She could sense that he was near and felt that bizarre mixture of terror and intrigue she was beginning to grow accustomed to by now.
As she raised her key to the door, it opened before her. There he was, standing by the shaded window on the other side of the darkened room. She entered and smiled again as the door closed behind her.
“You’ve seen him,” he said in a deep, soothing voice.
“Yes.”
“That’s a lovely dress. He’ll like it,” he said, sounding slightly disgusted. He was a handsome man with closely cropped blonde hair, chiseled angular features and a lean, muscular body.
“Good,” she said, a glint in her deep, brown eyes.
“You know what to do. You should arrive at the park I showed you by dusk.”
“What then, Nathaniel?”
A sinister grin twisted itself into his thin lips, his slate gray eyes darkening to the color of storm clouds.
“Then it all begins again.”
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Rosalyn Smythe walked along the sidewalk, suitcase in hand, waiting to meet Donovan. It had been a long, dull summer working three jobs to raise the money to return to Hughes Hill. Won’t everyone be pleasantly surprised, she thought with a twisted smile. Well, pleasantly might not be quite the word...
The Salem Bend county fair was going on this week. She made her way past street vendors and carnival workers, clowns and children, old men twisting long balloons into the shapes of animals. They crowded around her. She hardly noticed any of them, instead focusing only on her inner thoughts, of the promise she had made to herself that she would return someday to the site of her downfall to redeem herself...
What a strange and marvelous journey Rosalyn had undertaken since being forced to leave Hughes Hill College. Her thoughts drifted back to that fateful year, to all the time she had spent with Patrick when she should have been studying, to the Dean telling her that he was terribly sorry but that her grades were simply not good enough to maintain the scholarships she had been granted, and furthermore, not even good enough to keep her in school. He was terribly sorry. Yeah, right, she thought. The pompous bastard! He would be the first. And then Patrick. She had waited a long time for this. And now the waiting was almost over. Soon Donovan would arrive to take her back. The poor thing would never know what he was doing, what evil he was about to unleash on his precious Hughes Hill, and most importantly, on Patrick!
She had been powerless at the time to do anything about what was happening to her, to change the course of her destiny, to make Patrick return the love she had for him. But no more. Now she had the power. She had the power to change the course of the future, to reclaim the past, to destroy those responsible for her failure. She would never fail again, thanks to Nathaniel and the gift he had given her.
She passed the fun house with the huge clown face entrance, its open mouth begging her to enter. She stepped into the mouth of the clown, entering the fun house where she had instructed Donovan to meet her. She had “forgotten” to tell him about the clown theme carried out throughout the fun house. How could she have neglected to mention the ominous clown face painted on the front of the structure with its yawning, garish red lips open to devour those who entered? Oh, well, she thought, it’s not like he’s terrified of clowns or anything.
Demented carousel music howled through the darkened, cavernous structure, overpowering the sounds of the laughing children outside. Daylight and happiness were forgotten here. She smiled to herself as she walked down a twisted hallway, suddenly met by a life size clown doll with a knife in hand, raised ominously over its head. As she walked by, it lowered its hand, the knife angling dangerously close to her head. Too bad it was plastic, she thought. She couldn’t harm Donovan now, though. He was her ticket back to campus, her way back to Patrick.
She paused in front of a set of mirrors which were bent to contort her image into a horrifying, grotesque caricature of herself. It exaggerated the effect of her turned up, pushed in nose, making her look like a pig. She smiled. She didn’t have to be pretty to accomplish what she wanted to do. She had her power...
Posted by Harbinger on :
Oh Danny that Rosalyn scares me!
This is great stuff!
your work
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
She's meant to...
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Callie Haylie walked into the library, stopping at the front desk to announce that she was assigned to work study there and had received notification to begin training today.
“You’ll want Miss Richards,” the bored little man seated behind the desk informed her and then sat for a moment, looking at her. “She’s up on the third floor in the periodicals area.”
“Thank you,” she said politely and then made her way to the elevator. The doors drew open before her just as she started to press the up button and she was faced with a harsh looking woman of about thirty-five, dressed in a crisp, unadorned gray business suit with a straight, knee-length skirt. Her honey blonde hair was pulled back from her stern face in a tight French twist. She wore no trace of makeup and Callie could only think how attractive she would be if she would only dress a little softer, put on some makeup, let her hair down and stop looking so damned mean--basically change her entire style.
“Callie Haylie?” The woman asked icily with a deep, raspy voice that was as intimidating as her appearance and demeanor.
“Yes.”
“Come with me.”
Callie obediently followed the woman to the front of the library wondering who the hell she was.
“Are you Lenora?” she asked as they reached the foyer.
“I am Miss Richards,” she answered. “And you are going back to your room and changing your clothes before reporting back here within a half hour ready for training. If you must wear a skirt, see to it that it is no shorter than mid-thigh, lose the socks, and absolutely no boots, or whatever those are.”
Callie was thoroughly stunned and could only stare after her in silence for a moment as she turned and walked briskly away, snapping her fingers at the bored little man who immediately jumped to attention and followed her.
Callie walked outside and surveyed her outfit which consisted of a pastel summer sweater worn over a black silk miniskirt, black tights and perfectly coordinated black platform shoes. Well, she thought, I guess I’m not exactly dressed like a librarian. Thank God. ***
Jade found herself completely unable to sleep. She tossed and turned on her bed for a few minutes and then bolted upright with a beleaguered sigh. This sucks, she thought. There’s nothing to do, I can’t sleep, nobody’s here...
She began to wonder if there was any good shopping in Evanston. She had heard that there were two fairly decent malls but really didn’t have any idea how to get to them. Then she remembered the big antique mall she’d seen just off the Floyd Expressway when she’d driven into town. That could be fun, she decided.
She changed into a blue jumper dress over a simple white shell and some navy flats, refreshed her makeup and ran a brush through her hair. She grabbed her purse and was on her way.
She maneuvered her royal blue Delta 88 down the expressway and was at the antique mall within fifteen minutes. It was a huge old brick building adjacent to a brewery that made some kind of regional beer she’d never heard of. Silver. She made a mental note to try it at some point in the future.
The antique mall was rather dark inside and had that familiar musty smell she remembered from going to places like this with her grandmother when she was a little girl. The woman had collected the most intriguing oddities over the years.
I could kill the whole day in here, she thought to herself. There were three levels, each fairly massive. After she’d made a quick run through the entire place she went back to the second floor to a clothing and jewelry display that had caught her eye.
It was strange, she thought, that there were so many people on the other levels picking through the trash and treasure, but she hadn’t seen anyone on the second floor. When she returned it was still empty. Good, she thought. She instinctively scanned the room for video cameras. None.
She walked over to where the jewelry was displayed in an open case. This is too fucking easy! Nobody in the whole damn place!
She surveyed the pieces, mostly old cheap costume stuff, then the earrings caught her eye. They were glorious sparkling emeralds, magnificent, each with three pear cut stones dangling from the delicate posts. Seventy-five dollars. She took one more scan of the room, opened her purse, took the emerald earrings and gently lowered them inside.
Then she saw the ring. The matching ring! A cluster of three pear cut emeralds set in gold. Eighty-five dollars. She noticed a buzzer on the counter by the jewelry display with a crude hand-painted sign that said, “Press Button for Assistance With Jewelry.”
She pressed the button on the buzzer and waited. Did it answer back or did somebody just show up, she wondered. Her question was answered when the elevator opened after a few minutes and an old woman got off and walked toward her smiling sweetly.
“Did you need help with some of the jewelry, honey?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’d like to buy this ring,” she said, pointing at the emerald.
“Oh, that is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
The old woman looked around for a moment and then got a puzzled look on her face. “There used to be a real pretty pair of earrings that went with it. It made a real pretty set. Somebody must have snatched those up already.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” Jade said, taking her wallet out of her purse and pushing the earrings further toward the bottom. “You do take plastic, don’t you?”
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Donovan pulled off highway 41 onto the Salem Bend exit. When Rosalyn had called, she’d instructed him to take the first right off the exit and head toward downtown. Salem Bend was so small, she had said, that he would stand no chance of getting lost. She was right. Within a matter of minutes he found himself heading into the downtown area, a quaint smalltown atmosphere to the small shops lining either side of the wide main street.
He passed a small restaurant and motel. “24 Hour Cafe and Motel” the sign read simply. It caught his eye, seeming somehow out of place in the picturesque little town. He noted it and drove on, heading toward the heart of the downtown area where the street festival was taking place. He looked for a street sign but there were none. She had told him to park along Waterford Avenue and walk. Too bad he didn’t know where it was, he thought. He pulled into a parking space in front of the local bank, got out of his car and began walking toward what appeared the center of the festivities.
There was a parade moving down the main street. He walked along slowly, watching the movement of people and vehicles down the street. Then he saw a clown on stilts, passing close to him. The huge, monstrous thing towered above him. He shuddered. Clowns, he thought. Lovely.
Clowns had always terrified Donovan, though he could think of no particular reason why they should. He had often thought that there was some secret childhood trauma buried deep in his subconscious that explained it, but he had been unable to reach it. It was so out of character for him. Nothing scared him. Snakes, spiders, heights, nothing. But there was this inexplicable fear of the garish, painted figures of clowns in their weird, colorful costumes and wild hair.
Enough about clowns, he thought to himself. He had to find the funhouse. It was just the Rosalyn Smythe that he remembered to be so theatrical as to say, “Meet me at the funhouse.”
He stopped at one of the concession booths and asked the shriveled up old man who was spinning cotton candy on a stick where the funhouse was located.
“You see that there big ol’ clown looking thing?” the old man asked, gesturing down the street with his cotton candy.
Donovan turned to see the little metal building with the big clown face painted on it in day glow clown colors of hot orange and bright red against stark white.
“The one that says funhouse in big red letters above it?” Donovan asked sarcastically.
“Yep. That’s it.”
“Thanks ever so much.”
“Want some cotton candy?”
“Thanks anyway,” he answered and then started down the street toward the clown. Thanks alot, Rosalyn, he thought to himself.
He looked around, hoping that he’d see Rosalyn waiting for him outside of the funhouse. No such luck. He was more than happy to drive a half hour out of his way to pick her up, but he drew the line at entering the mouth of some gigantic clown to chase her down. He fished his cigarettes out of the pocket of his jeans along with the silver plated lighter Patrick had given him for Christmas their sophomore year. Leave it to Patrick to give him a gift that contributed to his worst habit, he thought. He lit up a cigarette and steadied himself against the wall of the funhouse, his back to the clown. He took a few more drags off the cigarette before deciding he could wait no longer. He threw the cigarette onto the ground, crushed it into the sidewalk and walked up the steps into the entrance of the funhouse, into the mouth of the sinister clown.
Inside he heard the music. That twisted carousel music. He stopped, paused at the entrance way, peering into the darkness ahead. He could see for only a short distance into the hallway that snaked away before him. He took a few tentative steps, stopped again and called out softly, “Rosalyn?”
No answer. Only that damned music. It was out of time or off key or something. He couldn’t quite make out what it was but it was just... wrong.
“Hello,” he called out again. “Rosalyn.”
The music was the only answer, seeming to grow louder and more intense. He resigned himself to the fact that he’d have to walk on ahead. Just a little further, he told himself. Just a little further and then he’d run into Rosalyn. He hoped like hell that she was in there. She had said that if she wasn’t waiting outside that she’d be in the funhouse and for him to just come on inside and find her. What fun.
Patrick would like this, he thought. Just weird enough for him. Small and closed in. He’d be in heaven. Too bad this was more like hell for Donovan.
As he took another step he came face to face with the clown waiting with the knife. Cute, he thought, as he stared at the knife raised above the clown’s head. Really cute. At least it was an inanimate dummy, not something real and dangerous. Then the hand began to lower and Matthew jumped back just as the sharp, gleaming blade angled down toward his face. Shit, he thought, that’s a real fucking knife.
He backed away, studying the clown who raised the knife again and was still for a moment before lowering it again. He backed further away, stumbling over something in the floor. He tried to adjust his eyes in the darkness, and leaned to pick up the object he’d stepped on. It was a plastic knife...
“Donnie!” came a voice from behind, making him jump and drop the plastic knife. He turned to see Rosalyn smiling at him at the end of the corridor.
She seemed somehow different, even in the darkness where he could barely see her. There was something strange, not like the Rosalyn he remembered. As she drew slowly closer, the feeling intensified. It was almost as if she were not the same girl he had known. But then again, he reminded himself, it had been over two years.
“Be careful, “ he warned, gesturing toward the clown. “Some psycho has secretly replaced the plastic knife normally used by our killer clown here with a real one.”
Rosalyn’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the steel blade in the clown’s hand.
“Oh, my God,” she said. “Who would do such a thing?”
“I have no idea. Can we please just get the fuck out of here?”
Once out in the daylight, things seemed a little more real, away from the hideous music and the weird clown.
“Well, how’s that for an entrance?” Rosalyn asked with a smile.
“Pretty dramatic.”
“Thanks,” she said. “It’s good to see you again. “You, too.”
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
A pack of cigarettes later, Patrick found himself back at his dorm room, still alone, still thinking of Jake. Donovan must not be on campus yet, he decided, trying to push all thoughts of Jake from his mind. What was he going to do? He had never done well with too much time on his hands.
He shucked his clothes and changed into one of his little boy outfits, an oversized red and navy striped pullover, navy shorts, white socks and his navy canvas deck shoes. He couldn’t stay in the room. He grabbed a fresh pack of cigarettes, stuffed them down into his pocket and left the room, again unsure of where he was headed.
He began walking around the deserted campus. He hated it when it was like this. If someone just walked by or he could hear voices in the distance, then maybe he wouldn’t feel so completely alone. It was a suffocating feeling and being outside was almost worse than being in the small, stuffy room. The sky was blue and cloudless, incredibly expansive and all-consuming, threatening to open up and devour everything around him, leaving him alone in the middle of darkness. His breathing was coming a little faster now and he increased his pace along the concrete sidewalk, staring down at his feet and concentrating on the feeling of the solid, substantial surface below him.
He thought of ducking into the chapel, but then decided that all the time he’d spent in there last year hadn’t done him any good so it was probably pretty pointless to try it again. He walked past the church and found himself in the courtyard behind the administration building. Here at least he could hear sounds of other people. It must be coming from the freshman picnic, he thought to himself. He sat alone by the memorial in the center of the courtyard, listening to the voices. ***
Inside the chapel sat a young man. He stared at the figure of Christ riveted to the cross. The candles on the altar flickering against the statue almost made it appear to move, giving it an eerie half life in the darkness of the chapel.
“What do you think he’s going to do,” he heard a voice whispering from behind, “come down off there and make everything better?”
“Andrea,” he said without turning.
“Hello, Sebastian. Good to see you again. It’s been a long time. Too long.”
“Seems like lifetimes.”
Without another word she moved close and sat beside him, taking his hand and smiling.
“He’s here, isn’t he?”
“I’m afraid so,” she said with a troubled expression.
“What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why can’t he just leave them all alone?”
“It’s not his nature. You know that as well as I do.”
“I’m not sure what I know anymore. I’m not even sure I know myself.”
“Existential angst? I thought you were beyond that.”
“I thought I was beyond a lot of things.”
“Then walk away.”
“I can’t. It’s not in my nature.” ***
Callie finally found the perfect outfit, one she’d forgotten she had brought with her. It consisted of a purple tunic style top that came down over a matching knit skirt that fell just above her knees. That should be long enough, she thought with a self-satisfied smile as she tied a purple and green scarf around her waist to belt the top so that it wouldn’t hang quite so shapelessly. She found a pair of purple dangly earrings that certainly matched the outfit and pushed her hair back with a purple headband. She then added the crowning touch, a pair of purple pumps she never wore but which were the only shoes she had to match. And besides, they weren’t boots. She hated this outfit.
She took a large bag of m & ms out of her top dresser drawer, put them into her purse and made her way back to the library. She stopped at the front desk to tell the little man that she was back, ready for training.
He informed her that Miss Richards was again on the third floor in the periodicals area waiting for her. She got on the elevator and went to the third floor, drawing in a deep breath and steadying herself for her next encounter with the staunch library maven.
When she stepped off the elevator and turned toward the periodicals area she saw Miss Richards waiting for her, arms crossed, that same bulldog expression. Callie walked toward her without saying a word and felt as if she were presenting herself for the woman’s approval. Miss Richards looked her up and down, rolled her eyes and said, “You’ll find out that you definitely don’t want to wear high heels on this job.”
“I’ll remember that. Thanks,” Callie said with a sweet smile, hoping to melt the ice a little. However, the ice remained as cold as ever as Miss Richards turned and motioned over her shoulder for Callie to follow.
She took her to a small metal cart that had a sign that read, “Deposit bound periodicals here--DO NOT refile.”
“This,” she announced, “will be your first priority each evening. You will come to this cart and proceed to file the bound periodicals in their proper place. It’s rather simple, really. They each have their own area on this floor--magazines, foreign and domestic; newspapers, foreign and domestic; journals by area of concentration. You’ll begin doing this Wednesday evening. Tonight, I’ll be giving you a brief overview of your responsibilities and filling you in on some of my ground rules. You’ll have time when we’re finished to familiarize yourself with this building. You won’t be required to work a full shift this evening but beginning Wednesday I will expect you here for the three hours specified by your work study assignment each Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I do not tolerate any lack of punctuality. You will be here by 6:00 p.m. sharp and leave no earlier than 9:00 p.m. sharp. Three incidence of tardiness will result in your immediate dismissal. If you should, for any legitimate reason, need to arrange for an alteration in your schedule, you must notify me in writing at least forty-eight hours beforehand. If you are unsure whether your reason for requesting a work schedule change is legitimate, assume that it is not and report to work as usual. Do you have any questions about what we’ve covered so far?”
Callie was nearly dizzy after Miss Richards rapid fire and monotone listing of rules and regulations and could only stare in amazement for a moment before shaking her head slightly from side to side and wondering if she’d died and gone to hell and was being given a grand tour by one of Satan’s legion.
Miss Richards was silent and still for a moment and then nearly smiled as she leaned toward Callie and said quietly, “I’m not nearly the bitch I come across as.” Then she turned and gave Callie that over the shoulder gesture and added, “Unless the need arises.”
Even with this not so subtle warning tacked to her blunt declaration, Callie was finally able to breathe a slight sigh of relief as she followed along behind the woman in the gray wool suit. Perhaps she was half human.
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Jade returned to campus and took her bag from the antique mall to her room. She kicked off her shoes and sat down on her bed, taking the ring out of the small brown bag and placing it on her finger, admiring the way it sparkled and gleamed. A perfect fit. Good thing, she thought. She hadn’t even bothered trying the damn thing on. Then she took the earrings out of her purse, they were exquisite, delicate and flawless stones. Beautiful. She instinctively reached to her ears to remove her earrings and noticed that she hadn’t had any on all day which was completely out of character.
She put on her new earrings and went to the dresser to look in the mirror. She placed her hand against her chest so that she could see the ring and smiled at her reflection. They were perfect, she thought. As she stood admiring herself she had sudden feeling of deja vu, almost as if some buried memory were sweeping back over her. She had seen these pieces before. Or was it something else? She stared intently at the gleaming emerald ring on her finger and began to hear a soft, familiar melody inside her head. It was a song she’d heard many times in her mind. She wondered if it was real or some product of her imagination.
Regardless of its existence in the real world, there it was in her mind again, growing louder, almost as if she were really hearing it. She was a little unsettled but stood transfixed by the ring and the inner sound of the music. She closed her eyes and when she opened them, expecting to see her reflection in the mirror, she saw something completely foreign and strange. Water. She drew in a sharp breath and jumped back a little, feeling her body brush against something.
“Are you alright, my darling?” she heard a man asking from behind. She turned and was face to face with the man she had seen in her dreams. Stunned, she reached out to touch him thinking that surely he would disappear as her hand drew close. She was amazed when she touched him and felt his shoulder, solid and unyielding beneath his white linen shirt. She could feel the fabric, for God’s sake!
She moved back from him a little, wondering what the fuck was going on. Was she asleep and dreaming or had she finally gone completely insane? She could feel the cool night air on her skin and see the man clearly standing there before her, so she had to rule out the possibility of dreaming. She suddenly found herself smiling. I have gone crazy, she thought, completely fucking nuts. I might as well enjoy it.
“Darling,” he repeated with a questioning look, “are you alight?”
“Sure,” she answered. “Sure.”
“You seem upset.”
“Why would I be upset?”
“You seem a bit distracted,” the man said.
For as many times as she had seen him in her dreams he had never seemed quite so perfectly handsome and real as he did here now--in this delusion or whatever it was. His blue eyes were ablaze with light and darkness at the same time.
She looked around to find that she was standing on the deck of a cruise ship, no one around but her and the man.
“I’m just a little disoriented,” she finally said, turning back to him.
“Don’t worry, Justine, it will pass. A little seasickness, I suppose,” he said in a soothing, reassuring voice. “Do you like them?”
“What?”
“Your gifts.”
She stared at him blankly for a moment, wondering why he had called her Justine and what gifts he was talking about.
“The earrings and the ring,” he continued.
“Oh,” she said, “the earrings and the ring...”
She looked down at the ring and then back at him. Something in his expression changed. He was still smiling, but it was a strange, menacing smile and his eyes had darkened and narrowed.
Suddenly she pulled off the ring and in a brilliant flash in which she could see nothing but what looked like pure light, she found herself back in her dorm room staring into the mirror. She could see her own look of terror, her face completely white. She threw the ring on the floor and quickly took off the earrings, laying them on the dresser, stepping back away from them. She surveyed the room. Nothing was different than it had been. What in the hell had just happened to her, she wondered. It had been real somehow, yet it couldn’t possibly have been. She was shaking and felt chilled to the bone.
She had to get out of there, to see someone to convince herself that she wasn’t losing her grip on reality. She put her shoes back on, grabbed her purse and nearly ran out of the dorm, out into what was real. The sunlight and the familiar little campus were reassuring. No water, no cruise ship, no scary man asking her if she liked the earrings and the ring...
Why had she taken those damn things, she asked herself. Her mind was racing nonstop as she hurried across campus. Maybe she’d come face to face with the devil. Maybe he was taunting her for stealing the earrings, letting her know she’d been busted, that she was going to hell. Hell’s a cruise ship? Satan is a gorgeous blond with blue eyes? This was all too fucking crazy, she reminded herself, trying to slow her thoughts down, to shake the overwhelming feeling of dread inspired by this experience.
She slowed down a little, took a deep breath and tried to relax, telling herself that it was not likely that she’d just met the devil. It was probably just some sort of delayed guilt reaction. She’d just dreamed the whole thing up in her mind to punish herself for taking the earrings. Then she remembered how real it had been. Oh, great, she thought, that’s really comforting. I didn’t see the devil, I just had a little psychotic episode. That’s much better.
She found herself in the plaza area in the shadow of the looming administration building. Then she noticed a young man sitting alone by the memorial, curled up against one of the stone slabs, staring at the water as it splashed down from the metal pipes. He seemed almost like an abandoned child. She was somehow drawn to him. Though she didn’t feel like being bothered with anyone right now, she felt a strange desire to go to him, to talk to him as if he could help her with her little problem. She paused for a long moment, standing in the middle of the empty plaza, just watching him.
Finally he turned toward her and appeared almost startled. Then she realized she was standing there looking at him like an idiot and didn’t know whether to turn and walk the other way and hope never to run into him again or to go over and introduce herself. The decision was made in a split second and she continued across the plaza toward him. He never took his eyes off her as she approached.
“Hi,” she said with her best smile. “I’m Jade Gentry.”
“Hi,” he said simply, surveying her carefully.
She stood there for a moment longer, smiling, feeling completely stupid. Then she moved closer, taking a seat on the ground, her back against the slab opposite him. “Mind if I join you?”
“No.”
Even up close there was something childlike about him. His blue eyes sparkled in the mid-afternoon sun, but there was something dark and brooding about them. He has old eyes, she thought. They looked like they had seen something very sad. And they looked familiar.
Finally he spoke again cautiously, a little slowly. “This is probably going to sound strange,” he began, “especially if I don’t... But do I know you from somewhere?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. Wonderful, she thought. She had come to him looking for comfort and was instead finding herself feeling creepy all over again.
“No,” he said, shaking his head slowly, still studying her.
“Well, like I said, my name’s Jade Gentry. What’s yours?”
“Patrick. Patrick Dillon.”
“Well, you look familiar to me, too. I guess we don’t know each other though.”
“Well, we do now.”
“You have a point.”
“So, I take it you’re a freshman?” he asked.
“You’re correct.”
“How do you like our little school?”
“I find it quite... intriguing, I guess. And strange.”
“Interesting that you put it that way. It is rather intriguing and strange,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes.
“How do you mean?” she asked, her interest thoroughly piqued by what she imagined would be some very interesting stories this young man might have to tell.
“Oh, I don’t know. I guess if you stay here long enough you’ll find out. Or it could just be me.”
“I don’t think it’s just you,” she said quickly. “I’ve kind of had a strange feeling about this place from the moment I first stepped foot on the grounds.”
This seemed to get his attention. He straightened a little, leaned toward her slightly and arched an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. “Like you’ve been here before?” he asked.
She looked at him for a moment, taken aback by his question. How the hell did he know that? “Yeah, exactly like that.”
“You know, the first time I saw a brochure for this place, I knew I’d come here. It had a picture of that building on the front,” he said, gesturing toward the administration building. “It looked like...”
“Home?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking at her almost as if in disbelief. *** Christian was sitting on his bed, thoughts of the beautiful girl he’d just seen returning to him. He knew she was probably staying somewhere here in Manford Hall because it took a room key to get into the outside doors. He wondered what floor she lived on, what she was doing now and how long it would be before he met her.
He settled back on the bed, lying down. It was still bright and clear outside but he was beginning to feel very sleepy. He curled up, clutching his pillow and was soon drifting off to sleep. It wasn’t long before he was fast asleep and dreaming. He found himself standing in an empty field, a church in the distance. He sensed movement behind him and turned to see the girl from the courtyard smiling at him sweetly.
“It’s turning a bit chilly out here, dear,” she said softly. “Won’t you come back inside?”
“In a bit,” he dismissed and turned back toward the church. She was gone as quickly as she had appeared. For as much as he had wanted to meet her earlier, he didn’t seem to care that she was there in the context of the dream.
He walked up the steps to the old church, entered and walked past the seemingly endless rows of empty seats, past the glowing white candles, past the altar and out the back door. Behind the church was the cemetery, the old statuesque grave markers and mausoleums rising from the mist which clung close to the ground. Again there was movement, this time just ahead of him. He moved closer to one of the crypts, just in time to see Patrick going inside. He followed, standing just outside the entrance, watching Patrick move toward the center of the room.
Christian soon found himself joined by a red haired woman at the entrance of the crypt, a woman whose face he could not see, but someone he felt he knew and had been waiting to meet here...
Then there came a sound he couldn’t quite make out. The sound kept coming, a hollow thumping in the darkness. It took a while for him to realize that the sound was that of someone knocking on his dorm room door, waking him from his dream. Jeffrey got out of bed, rubbed his eyes to readjust to the light and opened the door to see the girl he’d watched cross the courtyard earlier.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hi,” she answered with a broad smile. “I’m Angie. I’ve been wandering around here all afternoon looking for someone to talk to, but everyone’s out.”
“You live in this dorm?”
“Yes, I’m upstairs. I think right above you.” “Really?”
“Yeah. You’re in 127, I’m in 227.”
Jeffrey had no idea what to say to her. He had hoped to meet her, but now that she was standing there in his doorway, he had no idea how to act.
“Come on in,” he said, stepping back from the door.
“Thanks,” she said as she walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Why aren’t you at the picnic?” she continued.
“What picnic?”
“They’re having that freshman mixer thing on the front lawn for all of us new arrivals.”
“I’m not a freshman,” Christian said. “I don’t think upperclassmen are invited.”
“Oh. It was in our little schedule of events,” she said, tugging gently at the plunging neckline of her dress, ever so slightly revealing the firm roundness of her soft breast. “Frankly, I don’t give a damn about what I’m supposed to be doing,” she continued with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“You seem like somebody who doesn’t exactly follow all the rules,” he said, smiling back at her.
“It’s stuffy in here. What do you say we get out of here for a while?”
“What do you have in mind?” he asked.
“Oh, too much,” she said. “But for starters, there’s this little place I’d like to show you.”
“Lead on,” he said. “My car’s out front,” Christian said excitedly. Damn, he thought, not here a whole day and already have a chance to get some!
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Donovan and Rosalyn sat in his car in silence. The trip back to campus had been slightly uncomfortable. After all, Donovan hadn’t seen Rosalyn in two years and hadn’t really known her that well before she left. All he knew was that she and Patrick had been good friends at one time.
“Well, we’re here,” he announced as he pulled into the parking lot behind Brenton Hall.
“So we are,” she said. Her voice sounded deep and strange.
“Well, do you want me to help you get unpacked first, or do you want to see if we can track down Patrick?”
“That’s okay. I’ve got a few things I need to do first. Why don’t you run on. I can get my bags upstairs. I didn’t bring a whole lot, anyway.”
“Alright, then,” Donovan said, taken aback by her sudden dismissal. Why don’t you run on? What am I, a fucking cab driver?
He let her get her things out of the car and then was shocked when she waved over shoulder to him instead of saying goodbye or thank you. He wondered what was up with her. She had seemed fine when he first picked her up, but the closer they got to campus, the more distant and detached she became. ***
Patrick and Jade sat for a while, both staring at the water as it flowed from the monument, sparkling in the sunlight. Jade found herself fascinated by the water, the monument and the strange young man she had just met.
After a while Jade’s calm was broken by her recollection of the strange experience she’d had in her room. She shifted uncomfortably, looking back to Patrick who seemed to sense her discomfort.
“What’s wrong?”
“Long story.”
“I’ve got nowhere to go,” he said.
She smiled and thought to herself how utterly insane any attempt at an explanation would sound. Maybe when she knew him better. Maybe never...
“It’s not something I’d feel comfortable talking about right now,” she explained.
“Understood.” ***
Donovan got his things put away, forgetting Rosalyn Smythe, and dialed Patrick’s number. No answer. Knowing him he was probably either walking around campus or driving around aimlessly. He knew most of the places Patrick usually went and decided to start looking. He didn’t have anything better to do, and actually he would be glad to see Patrick again after being apart all summer.
He first went to the chapel, a place Patrick had spent alot of time in last year after all that mess with Jake. Grrrr! What a jackass .
He opened the heavy door and stepped into the darkness. In the foyer, just outside the main chapel area, he could hear voices. He stopped, knowing that Patrick wouldn’t be in there if anyone else was.
“...It’s not in my nature,” he heard a man’s voice saying.
“This time will be different,” a woman answered.
“Why should it be? It’s been the same way for so long. Ever since he came into our lives. We’ve always thought it would be different and it never has been. Maybe it’s just what’s meant to be and we can’t change it.”
“You can’t think like that. You know there has to be a way. And besides, there are things that are already different.”
“You mean the new ones?”
“Yes. It puts a different spin on things.”
“They’ll just wind up falling to Nathaniel, too...”
Donovan felt an inexplicable chill upon hearing the name Nathaniel. Maybe it was just the hopeless and fatalistic tone in the man’s voice as he spoke it, but something about this whole conversation disturbed him deeply. He felt a need to get to Patrick, to see if he was okay, to get away from these two... But he also felt an overriding need to hear more. He stepped closer to the door, pressing his ear against the cold, hard wood.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” the woman said. “But I’ve never heard you sounding so defeated. You can’t let him win so easily.”
“What choice do we have?”
“We can fight, goddamn it!”
“We’ve been fighting for a hundred years and it hasn’t done any good.”
“Maybe that’s all we’re supposed to do. Just fight and not give up. We know what will happen if we give up. We might be surprised by the results if we keep fighting. He can’t win forever. It can’t go on this way. You know Patrick needs you. You know they all need our help. We can’t just abandon them, and I won’t. If you want to be a pathetic failure and run from your chance at redemption, then you just be my fucking guest.”
Donovan was shocked at the mention of Patrick’s name, especially since he’d just been thinking about him. He didn’t know these two voices. They couldn’t be talking about the same Patrick... Could they? What were they talking about, anyway? It sounded so mysterious and sinister.
The woman’s tone had been insistent and icy, yet somehow pleading at the same time. Her voice softened as she added, “I need you. More than I can tell you.”
Then there was silence and Donovan felt that chill again. He turned and quietly left the chapel. ***
Jade looked at Patrick again and suddenly asked, “Would you like to get out of here for a while?”
“Sounds pretty good to me.”
“Why don’t we try to find someplace that’s not quite as spooky.”
“Welcome to Evanston, Indiana,” Patrick said with a strange smile. “There isn’t anywhere here that’s not spooky.”
“There has to be somewhere that’s not quite as strange as this place.”
Patrick looked as if he were deep in thought for a moment, as if he were having to think very hard of a safe place for them to go. There was a time that walking by the riverfront had calmed his mangled nerves, but now there were too many ghosts walking along with him when he went there. Then it came to him. The little park he and Rosalyn used to go to.
Memories of Rosalyn Smythe began to float into his mind. She had been a good friend to him his freshman year of college, the first person he eventually told he was gay. Expecting judgment and condemnation, he had instead received quiet acceptance from the girl who he knew had a crush on him. After a while of struggling to accept the fact that they would never have a romantic involvement, she seemed to have resolved herself to accept his friendship instead.
They had spent every spare moment together. She shared his passion for writing and they would spend hours on end discussing plots for short stores and novels that neither of them ever worked on. Instead poetry flowed forth from the pair, most of it bad, Patrick had to admit, but there were some really good things that came from them both during that period. The last good poetry Patrick had ever written, really. They created fictional characters, the Poet and the Painter, whose unrequited love rivaled that of Romeo and Juliet, and created volumes of tortured verse about the characters’ relationship. A catharsis of sorts for both of them. Rosalyn had been able to espouse on her feelings of loneliness and isolation caused by not being able to truly be with the man she loved and Patrick was able to explain his feelings of abandonment and desertion caused by losing Jake.
Jake Bainbridge. God, please don’t let me start thinking about him again, Patrick thought. If he allowed himself to start thinking about that whole nasty mess he’d never be able to stop. He’d go crazy again. No. There would be no thoughts of Jake Bainbridge now.
“There’s a place,” he said suddenly, standing.
“Where?”
“Just come with me,” he said as he helped her up and lead her toward his car still parked in front of his dorm. As they rounded the corner of the walk beside the chapel, they came face to face with Donovan.
The three of them locked eyes for an instant. Electricity...
“There you are!” Patrick called, hugging his best friend.
Donovan looked almost startled, a strange expression on his face.
“What’s wrong?” Patrick asked.
“Nothing. I just need to get out of here.”
“That seems to be the feeling of the moment,” Jade said, smiling at him.
“Donovan, this is Jade Gentry, “ Patrick said. “She’s a freshman and we just met over by the memorial.”
“I’m Donovan McAllister,” he said, extending his hand which she shook firmly.
“Nice to meet you. We were just on our way to the park. Wanna join us?”
Patrick looked at her. He hadn’t told her where they were going...
“How did you know we were going to the park?” he asked.
“You told me,” she answered.
“No, I didn’t.”
She was quiet for a moment, looking pensive, as if trying to remember the exact moment when she had learned of their planned destination.
“I’m sure you must have,” she said, not looking quite convinced.
“Oh, well, I guess I’ve been a little preoccupied. I’m sure I must have...”
“Well, whatever. It does sound like a good idea. Can we just go?” Donovan said, looking anxious to get away from the chapel and Hughes Hill College.
“Save me!” Jade suddenly began screaming. Then she fell to the sidewalk and her body twisted into odd contortions. She just kept screaming over and over, “Save me! Save me!”
Donovan and Patrick stared in shock for a moment and then Patrick bent to shake her. He took hold of her shoulders and could feel her body stiffen. Then she was silent for a moment, staring straight ahead, a look of terror frozen on her face.
“Jade, are you okay?” Patrick called. “Jade!”
As suddenly as she had fallen and begun screaming, she seemed to return to normal, looking bewildered.
“What the hell happened?” she asked. “Why am I lying on the sidewalk?”
“You just... fell or something,” Donovan said, visibly shaken. “How do you feel? Are you alight?” he asked, helping her to her feet.
“I--I don’t know. I just feel so... odd...” She trailed off, brushing the dirt from her dress. “Oh, fuck. This is silk,” she said as she noted a small rip in the skirt.
“I think she’s okay,” Donovan said with a smile. “If that’s all she’s worried about after all that.”
“What happened, though?” she asked again.
“That would be a little hard to explain. Have you ever had a seizure before?”
“What? A seizure? What are you talking about?”
“Well, you just started shaking and then you fell and you were screaming out, ‘Save me,’” Patrick explained.
“Oh, my God,” she said. “And I don’t remember any of it... Let’s just get the fuck out of here. This place is possessed.” ***
Rosalyn stood before the mirror in her darkened room, blew out the green candle on the dresser and watched the smoke swirl away with a twisted smile. ***
Callie made her way back to her room after finishing up with Miss Richards for the day. Thank God that was over, she thought as she stepped out of her heels. She noted that Miss Richards did have a point, though. She definitely wanted to find some more comfortable shoes to wear when she went back on Wednesday. She dreaded the thought of going back and struggled to push it out of her mind.
She drew the bag of m&ms out of her purse and opened it, taking a handful and gulping them down. She had finished off the entire one pound bag in a matter of minutes, focusing on the bittersweet taste of the chocolate, the crunchiness of the outer candy shells. A sudden wave of guilt swept over her. She felt disgusted with herself, swollen and bloated. How could she have eaten the whole bag?
She ran out of her room and down the hallway to the restroom. Kneeling before the first toilet she came to, not caring that she didn’t lock the stall door behind her and it swung open, she forced her finger deep down her throat and gagged, unable to throw up at first, but then succeeding on her second attempt. The blackened vomit exploded from her mouth in a torrent of blessed relief. She flushed the toilet and stood, steadying herself against the wall, just in time to see a girl looking at her in disbelief.
“I--I’m a little sick,” she said to the girl who shook her head and walked quickly out of the bathroom.
She closed her eyes, all the feelings coming back again, this everlasting shame. She knelt down again, her stomach convulsing in a tight knot. She heaved but there was nothing left.
She stood again and went to the sink, splashing water on her face. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. She looked pail and distraught. Tears began streaming down her face, clouding the image in the mirror, splitting it into a thousand rainbow shards of light, splintering her consciousness, altering her view of what was real.
Her face became strange and foreign to her, contorting into that of someone else. Her fine, delicate features began to exaggerate themselves. Her small nose grew to huge proportions and appeared to be smashed into her face, pushed up in a grotesque pig-like fashion. Her own wide-set blue eyes became a deep green, merging closer to one another below thin eyebrows. Her full lips thinned to vicious strips, curled in a sinister snarl and she could hear something rising above the splashing of the water in the sink, a sound she couldn’t make out at first. Music. Carousel music. Then she heard a voice. A woman’s voice saying, “We’re not in the woods yet.”
She screamed and ran from the bathroom toward her room, catching up with and passing the girl who’d been there when she threw up.
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Bump
This is my next task... to get this finished up...
And then... Breath of LIfe...
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Nathaniel sat in the quiet of Angie’s empty room, clutching an old, faded black and white portrait of a lady in a flowing white gown with glistening jewels and a warm, loving smile. She was beautiful. She was his. He closed his eyes, savoring the memories of her.
He was not willing to give it up, to let her go. He had loved her with all he could. Did she understand nothing? Did she think he would let her go without a fight? He had vowed long ago that he would pursue her through all eternity if that’s what it took. Through all the lifetimes, all the trite little contrived scenarios that she thought were reality.
“If only you knew, Justine, that none of this is real,” he spoke out loud as he clutched the portrait to his chest, a look of sheer tortured agony twisting his face. “The only thing that is real is our love and I will use every ounce of my power to bring you back to me!”
“But, oh, what a show it will be,” he said with a sinister smile as he picked up the telephone... ***
Callie threw herself on the bed, trying to forget the horrific image of the pig-woman. Who was she, she wondered. And why had she been there in the mirror? She had seen images like that before, in her dreams. But it had been so long. She had thought it was over. But the pig woman proved otherwise.
What was that she had said about the woods? She tried to push the image out of her mind and to recall the words at the same time. It wasn’t working. All she could hear was the rushing of the water and that demented carousel music. What did it all mean?
She was startled by the sudden ringing of the telephone and jolted upright in the bed.
“Hello?”
“You’re not in the woods yet,” came a deep, throaty male voice, almost in a whisper.
“What?”
Silence.
“Who is this?”
Silence.
“Do you have the will to survive? This isn’t really your battle. You aren’t supposed to be here. Stay out of it because if you don’t, it will someday prove to be your undoing.”
“What do you mean?”
Silence.
“Listen, I don’t know who the fuck you are, but this is not in the least bit fucking funny!”
Silence.
“Who are you?” she called again, tears once again welling up in her eyes. She wanted to slam the phone down, to run from the room, but something rendered her unable to hang up. She had to hear more. The silence taunted her. The words the pig woman had said, repeated by this male voice, this sinister whispering man, were intriguing.
Then the silence on the other end of the line was replaced by a click and then a droning buzz. Whoever it was had hung up.
She immediately hung up the phone and then dialed zero for the campus operator.
“Yeah?” prompted a lethargic female voice.
“Can you trace a call?”
“Was it from on campus?”
“What?”
“I said, was it from on campus? Did you get a double ring or a single ring?”
“I--I don’t know...”
The operator sighed and said, “Hold on a minute.”
After a moment she came back on the line and said, “It was an on-campus call. That’s a double-ringer, by the way.”
“Where did it come from?”
“You want the number or the name it’s listed under?”
“I don’t care. One or the other or both.”
“It’s listed as a Lincoln, Angie.”
She hung up the phone and sat still for a moment. How did this help? She now knew that the call had come from a student’s dorm room--a name she knew nothing about. A girl’s name and it had been a male voice...
She turned the information over in her mind, trying to analyze it in a structured manner. Okay, she thought, Angie Lincoln, on-campus, pig-woman... This wasn’t working. Too much information. This was all overwhelming. Perhaps it wasn’t too much information, it was just all too fucking bizarre. None of it fit together or made sense. The voice had been right, of course. She really wasn’t supposed to be here. This was her second option. Callie had already received her acceptance to an out of state school when at the last minute, the scholarship money was pulled. So she went to the local college, Hughes Hill, instead. But that didn’t change the fact that all of this was way too creepy.
She’d had the frightening encounter with the meaningless image... And then the phone call. The common thread was the strange message. You’re not in the woods yet...
That was the only thing she could concentrate on right now. What did it mean? She took the orientation packet she had been given by the perky blonde that morning, remembering that it contained information on local sites and landmarks. There had to be a woods or something.
Then she found it, Woodlawn Park. That had to be it. Besides the fact that it was a wooded nature preserve near campus, someone had conveniently highlighted it in red on her map.
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A purple candle. This one Rosalyn snuffed out with her fingers, feeling the burn and smiling with delight. Then she licked the soot from her fingers and threw back her head, laughing out loud. ***
“Turn here,” Angie instructed.
Christian looked at her questioningly as he turned the corner and saw a wooded park area.
“Is this it?” he asked.
“Woodlawn Park. This is the place,” she said with a smile. It looked more self-satisfied than happy.
Christian pulled into a parking area and they got out of the car. He followed behind Angie as she lead him toward a playground area. Where was everyone, he suddenly found himself wondering. The sun was just beginning to set on the beautiful, picturesque scene. The only thing missing were people.
“Isn’t it just too fabulous?” Angie asked.
“I like it.
“Follow me,” she said, a mischievous grin on her pretty face as she took hold of his shirt and gently pulled him behind her toward a large slide. She began climbing the ladder to the top. He stood for a moment, looking at her in quiet puzzlement.
“Come on, silly,” she said with a girlish giggle.
He obediently followed and soon found himself on a landing at the top of the slide with her. Without a moment’s hesitation she lunged forward and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him close to her and kissing him roughly. She wasted no time in parting his lips and sliding her hot, wet tongue into his mouth, running it over his teeth, then finding his own tongue and pushing hers against it.
Christian responded immediately to her unexpected physicality. He felt his groin grow hot as if it were on fire. Almost as if she had sensed this, she ran her hand up his thigh and firmly grasped the hot area between his legs. He tensed slightly and drew in a deep, sharp breath.
He took her firm breast in his hand, feeling the soft warmth of her skin beneath the thin material of her dress. As he began undoing the buttons down the front of her bodice, she ripped at his shirt, exposing his heaving chest.
He kissed the hollow of her neck gently. She reciprocated by biting into his shoulder so hard it drew blood. He once again stiffened, finding this attack strangely exciting. The mixture of pain and pleasure was more than he had ever experienced.
She seemed to linger on the spot she had bitten with her soft tongue. Then she kissed his mouth again and he could taste the salty, slightly metallic blood on her lips.
“Take me!” she whispered insistently. “Take me now!”
She pulled him down on top of her and in an instant they were both naked and clinging to one another in passionate desperation. He plunged into her almost violently. She smiled and threw back her head at this, moaning. ***
Callie drove her little purple Volkswagen along Linton Avenue, following the directions on the map. She just had a little further to go. Suddenly she felt very hungry. Her little throwing up episode had left her stomach empty and growling. She couldn’t eat, though. She was getting entirely too fat, she thought as she ran her hand down the front of her sweater, over her stomach. She felt a bulge of disgusting fat despite the fact that in reality her stomach was taut and smooth.
The hunger was becoming more intense. She had to eat. This was driving her mad. At least it was a distraction from the terrifying images she’d had earlier and the experience with the man on the phone. She decided it must be fate as she turned a corner and saw a Taco Haven ahead on the right. She pulled into the drive thru and ordered three tacos. “No, “ she quickly added, “Make that six. I haven’t eaten all day.”
She pulled up to the window and could smell the luscious aroma of the food. She paid and quickly pulled forward in the parking lot, not waiting to get to the park to eat. She tore open the bag and devoured first one and then another of the tacos until they were all gone. Now she was thirsty, the hunger pangs in her stomach subsiding somewhat.
She pulled out of the parking lot feeling satisfied and remorseful all at once. She’d fucked up again. She was supposed to be on a diet to lose that fucking weight that had troubled her all her life. She wanted nothing more than to be thin and beautiful. What had she done? She’d wrecked it all with those fucking tacos.
She pulled off to the side of the road and cried softly, her head down over the steering wheel. She clutched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles ached. She could feel her fingernails digging into her palms. She screamed out loud in agony. “What have I done?!!!”
Do you have the will to survive?
The words echoed through her mind. Was this voice on the phone just her own personal demon taunting her about her failure? Did he know that she would do this, that she would ruin her body with all that disgusting fat? Was the pig woman in the mirror really what she was becoming?
“Fuck you!” she screamed out loud and slammed on the gas, squealing her tires as she pulled back onto the road. Up ahead there was a Stop and Shop Gas Mart. On autopilot she pulled in, went inside and got a Slurpee and a bag of Corn Nuts. Comfort food, she told herself. She had loved these as a little girl and they’d always made her feel better after she had the images in her mind...
She decided it was her fate to be a fat, disgusting slob and that it didn’t matter. So what if the demonic voice was winning? So what? So what if she became the pig woman? She drank in the thick, fruity liquid and pounded fistful after fistful of corn nuts into her mouth as she drove on toward the park. Maybe she could face her demons down and let them know that she had accepted her fate and that their cruel taunting meant nothing to her!
Through tears she found the entrance to the park and got to the parking lot. The sun was slipping below the tree line and darkness was approaching. The woods looked somehow sinister yet inviting. A hiding place?
As she got out of the car she felt that familiar bloated, sick feeling in her stomach. Again she wondered why she had done this to herself. No, she thought. I can’t give up! I can win.
She went to the edge of the parking lot, looked around to make sure no one was around and then performed her purification ritual...
***
“Patrick,” Donovan said suddenly from the backseat of the car. “I forgot to tell you something.”
“What?” he asked.
“Guess who’s back at Hughes Hill this year?”
“I probably could care less. I can’t think of anyone I’ve particularly missed.”
“How about--”
At that precise moment Jade screamed out, “Watch it!”
Patrick and Donovan looked out the front window of the car to see another vehicle careening toward them in their lane.
“I don’t have anywhere to go!” Patrick yelled out, jerking the car toward the almost nonexistent shoulder of the narrow road.
“Shit!” Donovan said
Then as suddenly as the car had approached, it somehow seemed to disappear into thin air, leaving the three of them staring open-mouthed into the darkness outside the car. Patrick slammed on the brakes without a word and they sat by the side of the road for a moment, no one remembering the previous conversation after their brush with death and the strange, inexplicable disappearance of the phantom automobile.
***
Rosalyn held the two little toy cars close to the red candle she now had lit on her dresser. She held one in each hand and then drew them together quickly. Before her hands collided she closed her left hand tightly around the car she held. When she opened her hand, the car was gone.
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Christian and Angie were left clinging to one another, covered with a thin mist of sweat. Angie was purring almost like a cat as she nuzzled her nose against Christian’s neck, her hot breath against his skin.
“That was the most intense experience I have ever had in my life,” he said, sounding spent and exhausted.
“Me, too,” she said, caressing his shoulder, the spot where she had bit him.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” she said.
“Don’t apologize. That’s part of what made it so good. It was so... animal.”
“You like that?”
“I love it!”
Angie gently pulled herself out of Christian’s embrace and reached for her purse. She fished out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, lighting two cigarettes and handing one to Jeffrey.
Even though he had never smoked, it somehow seemed very appropriate right now to take the cigarette. He even found himself wanting it. And as he took a tentative drag off the cigarette he found himself enjoying the warm feeling of the smoke entering his mouth, hitting the back of his throat. He breathed it in, wanting more.
Angie smiled at him with delight. Got him, she thought to herself. Won’t Nathaniel be pleased...
Then she began feeling something else. What was that? She found herself becoming somehow concerned about this man. She studied him there in the dim light of the rising moon. There was no doubt that he was gorgeous. He had soft brown hair that was ruffled a bit by the breeze, steel blue eyes that looked pale and pure. Pure, she thought to herself. Yes, that’s it. There was something pure and innocent about him. Was she to destroy that? Was that Nathaniel’s plan?
“What’s wrong?” she heard Christian ask.
“What do you mean?”
“You just suddenly started looking kind of sad or something. You don’t regret what we just did, do you?”
“Oh, not at all,” she said, wondering if she did. ***
Rosalyn blew out the last of her candles. She was done for the evening. But she had just started what was to come. She had other business to attend to first. Her thoughts now centered on the pompous, arrogant Dean of Hughes Hill College who had so callously excommunicated her from her beloved Hughes Hill and her Patrick. He had been one of the reasons she was sent away, breaking the bond she had tried to forge between Patrick and herself.
She took a tattered and torn book from her backpack. It was the book Nathaniel had given her. The first volume, he had said. The others were promised upon completion of her assigned tasks. It was a small price to pay, she thought to herself, for getting what she wanted. She could care less about the people he had told her he wanted out of the way. If they were stepping stones to her higher purpose, then so be it.
But now she was going to use what he had given her for one of her own purposes. She turned to a page she had carefully marked with a black feather. Now, she thought, let the vengeance begin...
Just then she felt an icy chill run through her body. Shit, she thought. It’s him.
The door to the room flew open and he stood before her. “Yes, it is.”
“Nathaniel, what.--”
“What have you done?” he asked, eyes narrowed, staring at the burned out candles on her dresser.
“What do you mean? I’ve done what you asked.”
“I told you! I gave you very specific, simple instructions to follow, you miserable oaf! You stupid cow! How could you!”
“What are you ranting about?” she asked through clenched teeth, trying not to show him the terror he inspired in her.
“I told you never to let the candle wax intermix!”
“What’s the big deal?”
Nathaniel shook his head slowly from side to side, never taking his steely gaze off her.
“Is this bad?” she asked.
Still staring intently at her he simply nodded.
“Are you pissed?”
Another nod and a twisted smile.
“You’re not going to--”
“Don’t be stupid. I can’t yet, anyway. You’ve got more work to do. But if you fail to follow my explicit instructions once again, you will be very, very sorry. Maybe for a long time, maybe for a short, painful while. But you will be sorry.”
“I think I get the point. Okay, what next?”
He spied the green candle.
She followed his gaze to it and began to tremble.
Without a word from Nathaniel, the room went completely dark and became ice cold. Then he let out a roar that sounded as if all the hounds of hell had gotten together and begun baying.
“Never, never touch her in any way with your silly little fireworks!” he screamed as he delivered a powerful backhand which sent her across the room.
She looked up through the thin veil of blood that trickled down into her eyes from the gash on her forehead.
“Yes, Nathaniel,” she said softly. ***
After they had composed themselves somewhat, Patrick, Jade and Donovan continued on to the park.
“I think we could stand a little quiet time now,” Patrick said.
“Oh, yeah,” Jade agreed.
Donovan was silent in the back seat for a while and then added, “I don’t know what is up with Evanston, but I’d say Twin Peaks wrapped up with the Twilight Zone wouldn’t even come close.”
“I’m starting to see what you mean,” Jade replied.
“Well, why don’t we just get out and go for a walk or swing or something,” Patrick said, trying to sound nonchalant.
They got out of the car and walked through the parking lot toward the park. Jade was the first to notice the young woman at the edge of the pavement puking her guts up.
“Honey, are you okay?” she asked.
The thin, young blonde in the pastel summer sweater and purple skirt looked up at her weakly. “I think so,” she answered.
“No offense, but you don’t look so good,” Jade continued. “Are you sick?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said as she stood. Jade helped her to her feet .
“Is there anything we can do for you?” Jade asked.
“I doubt you could help me,” she said, sounding a little mysterious.
“Well, I think we all could use a little help,” Donovan said. “Listen, we were just about to head over to the swings and act like kids. Wanna join us?”
She looked as if she was thinking for a moment and then said, “Well, since I don’t really know what I’m doing here, I guess it wouldn’t hurt anything. Besides, I’d rather not be alone right now.”
“Know the feeling,” Patrick said. “My name’s Patrick, this is Jade and that’s Donovan.”
“I’m Callie.”
“Nice to meet you. Come on. Let’s go swing,” Jade said.
They made their way over to a swing set and all took seats. After a while, Jade looked over at Callie and asked, “Anything you want to talk about?”
“Well,” she answered, “I’m afraid you all might think I’m a big loon if I tell you.”
“I think you can rule out any judgments from this crowd,” Jade said with a reassuring smile.
“Well, there’s one thing that happened back on campus. I had a pretty weird experience.”
“Join the club,” Jade said. “What was yours?”
“Well, I got a creepy phone call. It must have been some kind of prank. There was this guy who said something about being in the woods. I hate to admit it, but that’s kind of the reason I wound up here. I know it sounds crazy, but I was curious and so I checked out what woods were in the area and this park seemed to be it.” Callie decided to leave out other minor little details like the pig woman and the circled park on the map because she didn’t want these new people to think she was a raving lunatic. Even though she was beginning to think she might be.
Patrick and Donovan exchanged a glance between them that looked like either quiet understanding or complete disbelief. Callie couldn’t quite make out which it was.
“Like I said,” she continued, “I know it sounds crazy.”
“A lot of things about this town and our dear old school are crazy,” Patrick said quietly.
“Yeah,” Donovan added. “There’s a lot of... unexplainable phenomenon, I guess you could say. Even though I hate saying things like that. I’ve always thought there were reasonable explanations for everything, but I have to admit that since I’ve been at Hughes Hill I’ve had to wonder about what they could possibly be at times.”
“That’s exactly the way I am,” Callie said, feeling a little more comfortable with them now, a little more at ease about the whole situation. These people actually didn’t think she was crazy because she took off to a park because a voice on the phone said something about woods. Well, that was a start. Nobody would understand the rest. It would definitely be best to keep it to herself.
She felt an instant kinship with these people. Jade seemed to empathize with her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to her understanding than she was letting on right now. She also could tell that she and Matthew thought a lot alike. He would probably be a really cool person to get to know better. And Patrick seemed sweet. He also seemed to have a story. She hoped that she would be able to get to know them all and find out what their stories were. She even hoped that maybe they would be able to help her unravel her own mystery. So even thought she didn’t necessarily feel as though she belonged, she could make it work.
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Christian heard voices. They were close. He couldn’t make them out, but something about one of the male voices sounded familiar. Actually, both of the male voices sounded familiar.
“Somebody’s here,” he said to Angie.
“Yeah, I know,” she said, sounding a little disappointed.
“I guess we should probably get dressed and get down from here.”
“That would probably be a good idea,” she said, “Much as I hate to leave this place.”
“We can always come back,” Christian said with a devilish grin.
“I hope we do,” she smiled back.
They hurriedly dressed and descended the slide’s ladder. As they headed back toward the parking lot, Christian noticed a group of people on the swings. As they drew closer he realized he knew the two young men.
“Hey, I know them,” he said.
Angie smiled as if she weren’t surprised and said, “Well, let’s just go on over.”
“Cool,” he said. “I can introduce you. Those two guys are old friends of mine.”
They went over to the group. Patrick was the first to notice Christian.
“Hey,” he said with a big smile. “Where have you been?”
“Around,” he answered. “When did you get to campus?”
“I’ve been here all day,” he said with a beleaguered sigh. “I was so bored until I met Jade and Matthew got here. Oh, Let me introduce you. This is Jade and this the latest little addition to our group, Callie.
“Hi,” he said. “This is Angie Lincoln.”
Callie’s face went white at the mention of the name. Christian noticed her reaction and was puzzled for a moment. Then he looked over at Angie who was simply staring at her.
“Do you two already know each other?” he asked.
“Not yet,” Angie answered. “It’s lovely to meet you all,” she said, still staring at Callie, a strange expression on her face that Christian couldn’t quite make out. Had she just suddenly taken a dislike to this girl she didn’t even know? It certainly seemed that way from the look on her face that bordered on disgust.
Callie didn’t look much more thrilled with Angie. Christian suddenly felt a strange discomfort, as if something simply wasn’t right.
Then he really noticed the red haired girl for the first time. Jade. That was it. God, he thought, there’s something so familiar about her. Something... She was gorgeous. The way her long, auburn hair framed her pretty, flawless face, the way the silk jumper dress gracefully flowed over her curvaceous body. She was much more voluptuous than Angie without being fat. But something about her body made Angie’s look like that of a little girl in comparison to the womanly figure that was Jade. ***
Sebastian sat in silence there in the chapel with Andrea for a while longer. Then he finally spoke again. “You’re right, you know. I know that. I can’t just give up. Neither of us can.”
“That sounds more like the old you,” Andrea said, pushing a stray strand of her long, black hair back from her pale, delicate face. “I just hope you can keep your distance this time.”
“I know I have to,” Sebastian said, a sadness in his pale blue eyes. “I just don’t know if I can...”
“Like you just said, you know you have to,” Andrea said softly. “For now. Don’t look at it like it’s forever.”
“Maybe it is...”
“Not if we can defeat Nathaniel.”
“Like you just said, if we can defeat Nathaniel,” he said, staring back at the figure on the cross.
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After Nathaniel had left the room, Rosalyn steadied her nerves, washed the blood from her forehead and bandaged the wound he had left. Mother fucker, she thought to herself. If he thinks he’s getting by with treating me this way he’s fucking wrong. Nobody’s ever getting by with treating me that way again...
She turned her attention to the dean of Hughes Hill College now. She went back to the book and the section marked with the black feather. She went to one of her suitcases and took out one of several crude little dolls, this one dressed in what looked like a business suit. By midnight he would get his first taste of her newfound power. And his last...
***
Jade couldn’t help but notice Christian’s intent stare. Instead of feeling uncomfortable she found herself feeling a mixture of flattery and instant attraction. It wasn’t like her to get all worked up about a guy, especially one she didn’t know at all, but there was something about this handsome, athletic young man that stirred feelings in her she’d never known. She offered an uncharacteristically shy smile and extended her hand.
“I’m Jade,” she said.
“Christian,” he answered, still staring deeply into her eyes, shaking her hand. She had to still herself to keep from visibly shuddering at the tingling, almost electrical heat that passed from his hand to hers. She didn’t want to let go and held on perhaps a moment too long for it was at that moment she noticed the icy, menacing look in Angie’s eyes.
“Your name is Angie, right?” Jade said quickly, extending her hand in greeting.
Angie looked at her outstretched hand and then placed one hand firmly on her hip, the other in Christian’s back pocket. “Uh-huh,” she murmured.
Bitch, Jade thought. “So,” she said, turning her attention back toward Christian, “are you two from here in Evanston?”
“No,” he said quickly. I’m from Cincinnati. I’m going to school at Hughes Hill.”
“Oh, really?” Jade asked, delighted. “So are we!”
“Isn’t that lovely,” Angie said, almost under her breath.
What the fuck is her problem, Jade wondered, matching her glaring stare.
“I need to talk to Donovan and Patrick for a minute,” Christian said, pulling away from an obviously reluctant Angie.
“No problem. I’m sure we can find something to talk about,” Jade said, although she couldn’t imagine anything she wanted to do less than try and have a conversation with this bimbo. As Christian walked away with Donovan and Patrick, Jade couldn’t tear her eyes away. Damn, he is fine, she thought.
“So, you’re Jade,” she heard the bimbo saying.
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Now she’d have to struggle through some meaningless small talk. Oh, well, it could be worse, she reminded herself. She could still be standing on the deck of that damned cruise ship. ***
After they’d reached a comfortable distance from the girls Donovan smiled at Christian and asked, “So, who’s the latest fling?”
“Oh, she’s just some girl I met. I thought I was really hot for her, but the options are looking better all the time,” he said, indicating Jade with a toss of his head.
“You slut,” Patrick chided playfully.
Christian smiled and shook his head. It was good to see Donovan and Patrick again. He’d forgotten just how much fun they’d had together last year, despite all the shit that had gone on around them.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Christian said, “but I’m not just out to get laid. I’m still looking for that one special girl.” He tried to fight the feeling that perhaps he’d just met her...
“You just have to take them all for a test drive, right?” Donovan teased.
“Something like that,” Christian said, wondering how he was going to ditch Angie. ***
“So, how long have you and Christian been going out?” Jade asked, trying to sound disinterested.
“Oh, it seems like ages,” Angie answered.
“That’s good,” Jade lied. “So you must be an upperclassmen?”
“No, I just started this year. I transferred from a college out west.”
“Oh, really?” Jade asked, confused.
“I just met Christian today. But it seems like we were meant to be together, if you know what I mean.”
Jade felt that she did know what Angie meant. However, it was unfortunate that she had it all wrong. Perhaps it wasn’t she and Christian who were ‘meant to be,’ but rather Jade and Christian. It even had a nice ring to it, she thought. Jade and Christian...
Angie leaned close to Jade who stepped back instinctively. “He’s a great fuck,” Angie said with a strange smile.
“Lovely,” is all Jade could think to say, thoroughly disgusted at the thought of the two of them together. Why were all the nice guys always attracted to sluts? Perhaps she had jumped the gun on this Christian guy, after all... ***
“You know,” Christian said, still looking over his shoulder at Jade, “I could really consider changing my ways if the right woman came along.”
“You’re not talking about being a one-woman man, are you?” Patrick asked, wide-eyed.
“Yes, I think I am...”
“Well, she seems like a really nice girl and it would be a shame if you fucked her over like you’ve done so many others,” Patrick protested.
“So many others? What are you talking about?” Christian asked, trying to sound innocent.
“Oh, let’s see... Jill, Karie, Stephanie...”
“Okay, okay!” Christian smiled. “So I’ve gotten around a little bit. People can change.”
“All I’m saying,” Patrick continued, “is that you should really be careful when you’re messing with someone’s emotions.”
Suddenly it hit Christian that Patrick was talking from experience. After what Jake had done to him it was pretty obvious that getting used can really have more of an impact on someone that Christian had ever known.
“Point taken,” he said. “Listen, I’ll make a deal with you.”
“What?”
“I promise not to try and get her in bed without getting to know her first if you’ll promise to stop being my conscience.”
“Deal,” Patrick said. “Sorry, didn’t mean to preach. She just seems really sweet, that’s all.”
“I know. She does,” Christian agreed. *** Jade suddenly noticed that Callie had been left alone over on the swings. “We should probably go over and talk to her,” she said to Angie. “Looks like everybody ran off an left her.”
“Yeah, I guess we should,” Angie said, not sounding too terribly enthusiastic about the idea.
“This seat taken?” Jade asked as she sat in the swing next to Callie.
“Not at all,” she said, smiling at Jade. Then she looked at Angie who simply stood before the two of them and the smile quickly faded.
Jade looked at the two of them, wondering what the hell was up with the coldness between them. She’d get Callie alone later and see if it was the same thing she was feeling, that sense that this girl was simply trouble somehow.
“Earlier you said you got a strange phone call on campus,” Jade said, trying to ease the tension. “Are you going to school here in town?” “Yeah. Hughes Hill.”
“Oh, my God!” Jade said. “That’s where we’re all from. That is so weird!”
“Weird indeed,” Angie said.
“This whole day has been really weird,” Callie said. “I’m starting to wonder why in the world I ever came to Hughes Hill in the first place...”
“Why did you?” Angie asked.
Rude bitch, Jade thought, looking to Callie for a response.
“Well, I’m not really sure. I had another college already picked out and then out of nowhere I got this letter saying that I had been approved for three different scholarships to come here. The funny thing is I still can’t remember ever applying to this school. I’d never even heard of it until I got that letter.”
“It’s almost like something drew us all here,” Jade said. “Like we were all meant to come together for some reason.”
“That’s bullshit,” Angie suddenly said. “I mean, you don’t believe in that fate stuff, do you?”
Jade was taken aback by Angie’s rudeness. “I don’t know. I just said it seemed that way, Angie. I didn’t say what I believed.”
“I didn’t mean to come across as a bitch,” Angie apologized. “It’s just that I don’t believe in any of that cosmic mumbo jumbo.”
“Maybe there’s more to life than we know,” Callie said, coming to Jade’s defense.
At least Callie seemed like a nice girl, Jade thought. Maybe the two of them could be friends and this Angie could just get lost in the shuffle after classes started and things settled down.
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The chapel at Hughes Hill college was growing dark. Sebastian shifted uncomfortably in the pew.
“What’s wrong?” Andrea asked.
“It’s just that I can feel him like he’s sitting right here beside me. It’s been a long time since the feeling has been that intense.”
“I know. I feel it, too. Though not as deeply as you, I’m sure,” she added, some faraway sadness in her eyes.
“I do love you,” he said, taking her hand.
“I know. Just not the way you love him...”
“If this is going to be too hard for you,” Sebastian said, “you don’t have to stay. This doesn’t have to be your fight.”
“Like hell it doesn’t have to be my fight! It has always been my fight. I won’t sit by and watch him destroy you... or them. If I let him destroy the one you love I’ll be letting him destroy you. And I won’t do that, Sebastian. I just won’t.”
“That is just so like you, my sweet Andrea...”
“Don’t give me too much credit. Part of it’s personal, of course. I hate that bastard Nathaniel for what he’s done to me as well. Even though it can be argued I asked for it. But I was so young then and I didn’t know what I was doing. Just like you. I hate him as much for what he has done to us as for what he’s trying to do to them.”
“I know,” Sebastian said softly, seeing the pain in her eyes. Those beautiful, gleaming eyes... He knew, had always known, that she would be the perfect woman for him if things had been different. He had often wondered why they couldn’t be different, but had given up hope years ago... So many years ago...
“So,” she said, “we know we have to do something. But where the hell do we start?”
“The best I can figure is that the new ones are the key to whatever Nathaniel has planned for the others. We just have to figure out how.”
“That won’t be easy,” Andrea said.
“Nothing ever is...” ***
“It’s getting cold out here,” Patrick said, uncomfortable with the gathering darkness.
“Yeah, it is getting a little chilly,” Donovan added.
“Maybe we should take this little party back to campus,” Christian said.
“Good idea,” Patrick agreed.
They made their way back over to the girls on the swings. Patrick noticed that they were awfully quiet, none of them even looking at each other. They must not have hit it off very well, he thought. They’d probably be glad to get the hell out of here, too.
Sure enough, there were no arguments when Christian suggested they make their way back to campus. They went back as they had come, Jade riding with Donovan and Patrick, Angie with Christian and Callie in her own car, all agreeing to meet back in the circle in front of the administration building and then head back to Donovan’s dorm room.
Patrick was the first to notice the flashing lights outside the administration building as they pulled up. “What’s that?” he asked.
“Looks like every cop in Evanston and an ambulance,” Jade answered.
“Wonder what’s going on?” Donovan asked, parking the car. He got out and asked one of the students huddled on the sidewalk what the excitement was about.
“It’s the dean,” the wide-eyed girl said. “They think he had a heart attack or something...” ***
Rosalyn released her grip on the twisted doll in the business suit and let out a long, loud cackling laugh as she tossed it into the trash can. ***
They brought the body out just as the others had gathered with the crowd. They were just in time to see one of the medics zipping up the black plastic bag over the dean’s face.
“Oh, my God!” Jade said. “This place just keeps getting creepier and creepier.”
Angie simply looked bored. “I’ve got some things to do back at my room,” she said. “I might catch up with you guys later,” she said with a dismissive tone. “You,” she said to Christian with a smile, “I will definitely hook up with again.” ***
Sebastian and Andrea stood together on the fringes of the crowd, watching as the ambulance pulled away.
“Man, they just took the Dean away in a body bag,” They heard someone saying excitedly.
Andrea turned to Sebastian, a knowing look in her eye. “I bet our old friend had something to do with this.”
“I bet you’re right,” he answered. “I can feel them... They’re close.”
“And they must all be together. I haven’t felt this kind of energy in a very long time.”
“How am I going to avoid seeing Patrick? This campus is so small.”
Andrea had thought about that and knew that it would only be a matter of time before the two of them came face to face. “You just have to try to avoid it as long as possible. Of course it will only be a matter of time before--”
“Nathaniel finds you?” she heard his voice from behind.
They both turned to the sound of the voice.
“I didn’t expect you to find us so soon, Nathaniel,” Andrea said, doing her best to mask her fear and revulsion. Sebastian grasped her hand and she tightened her grip for reassurance.
“How fucking sweet,” Nathaniel said with a sneer. “You two disgust me to no end.”
“The feeling is more than mutual,” Sebastian said through clenched teeth.
“I knew you would be here,” Nathaniel continued. “But the utter futility of it all is what I don’t understand. Will you two never give up? I am infinitely more powerful than either or both of you will ever be.”
“I guess we’ll just have to see about that,” Andrea said, suddenly wondering if she had the courage to do what had to be done. She was shaking inwardly at the sight of him. After all these years, all these lifetimes, he still had some sort of hold on her emotions. He could inspire a terror in her that no one ever had. It was almost as if he exuded pure evil and that evil drained her emotionally and spiritually. She could feel herself growing weaker here in his presence. If it weren’t for what she knew he had planned for those innocent young people, and what he had done to her, she could consider walking away forever and trying to go on with some sort of life. But he had taken that from her. She had nothing to go on to. He had seen to that...
“Oh, I am looking forward to that,” Nathaniel said and then turned and disappeared into the crowd.
“Fuck,” Sebastian said in a low breathy tone.
“We’ve definitely got our work cut out for us,” Andrea said, massaging Sebastians warm hand.
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
“Well, welcome to Hughes Hill College,” Donovan said dryly, “Where the body count grows every day.”
“Today has almost been too much for me, I’m afraid,” Callie said.
“I know just what you mean,” Jade confirmed.
“I think this calls for a room party,” Christian said.
“What?” Donovan asked. “How can you possibly think about partying at a time like this?”
“What better time?” Christian asked with a puzzled look. “None of us could stand Dean Simonson. He was a prick.”
“Well, you’ve got that right,” Donovan said. “But I don’t exactly feel like celebrating.”
“More like getting our minds off things. How’s that?” Christian asked.
“That sounds better,” Jade said.
“I’ve got just the thing in my room. How about a little vodka?”
“Oh, God,” Jade said excitedly. “You know my drink!”
“Excellent,” Christian smiled. “I do like a woman who knows her liquor.”
“Oh, I am the vodka queen,” she answered. “Let’s go to Christian’s room and party!”
“Well, it’s a little greusome,” Patrick said, “but it has been a hell of a long day.”
“You’ve got that right,” Patrick added. “Lead the way, Christian.”
They gathered in Christian’s small dorm room where he passed out paper cups and each in turn filled them with vodka.
Almost immediately the first round was gone and they were all on their second cup when Donovan suddenly remembered what he had tried to tell Patrick earlier.
“My God, I can’t believe I almost forgot to tell you,” he said.
“What?”
“Guess who’s back at Hughes Hill.”
“I don’t know... Jack the Ripper?” Patrick asked with a wry smile.
“Not exactly. Rosalyn.”
“Oh, my Gosh!” Patrick said excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s so cool.”
“Well, I don’t know if cool is the word...”
“I know you didn’t really like her but we were close.”
“Now, I never said I didn’t like her,” Donovan explained. “I just thought she was a little weird. And speaking of weird, she was really acting strange today.”
“You’ve already seen her?”
“I picked her up in Salem Bend.”
“Didn’t she want to see me?” Patrick asked, seeming a little hurt.
“I’m sure she did. But at that time I didn’t even know you were here yet. I’m sure she’ll get in touch soon. You’ll probably have a message from her by the time you get back to your room.”
“That’s cool,” Patrick said.
“Well,” Christian interrupted, holding up his glass in the gesture of a toast, “from old friends to new friends.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Jade said, smiling warmly at him.
“I’ll drink to anything tonight,” Callie added, downing her second glass of vodka and motioning toward Christian to pour her another.
“I should have gotten two bottles,” he said with a chuckle. “Oh, just the luck,” he added, reaching under the bed and retrieving a second bottle, “I just happen to have come prepared.”
“Such a boy scout,” Jade teased.
“Oh, he’s no boy scout,” Patrick said, cutting his eyes sharply at Christian.
“Let’s just get shit-faced drunk and forget about what a fucked-up place Hughes Hill College is for tonight,” Christian said. “Deal?”
“Deal,” Patrick said. ***
“I can’t deal with all this right now,” Andrea said, sounding tired. “I have to be alone for a little while if that’s alright.”
“That’s fine. I understand,” Sebastian said, letting go of her hand.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“I’m sure,” he reassured. Meet me tomorrow for breakfast at The Painted Pony?”
“Of course I will. Call me and wake me up or I’ll sleep all day,” she said, trying to sound light-hearted.
“I will,” he promised as he turned and walked toward the courtyard, leaving Andrea alone in front of the administration building. The crowd had dispursed by now, everyone going back to their dorm rooms to inflate the story of how the dean had died. By tomorrow morning, Andrea thought, they’ll probably be saying he was murdered. Then she wondered what had really happened and if Nathaniel had been involved in some way... It was easy to assume he was reponsible for all the evil in the universe... Perhaps he really was...
She took a seat on an old stone bench just beyond the glaring light of the streetlamps that lined the circular drive in front of the school and her mind began to drift back to another time, another place... It had been the first time she’d met Nathaniel. She struggled to push the thoughts from her mind, but before she knew it, she could feel the warm spring sun on her face and it was almost as if she were back there now. It had been Paris, the last time she felt young and innocent... The last time she had felt anything but fear and dread and apprehension...
Andrea had been staying in a little village just outside Paris when she’d met him. The day was burned into her memory forever. It had started out so beautiful and full of promise. She recalled how she had staked out the perfect spot along the Riviera to set up her easel and begin painting. If she thought hard enough she could recall every single brush stroke...
“It’s very... pretty,” she had heard a man’s voice saying to her.
“Why, thank you,” she had said, turning to see him, his blonde hair shining in the sunlight, those deep blue eyes the color of storm clouds. There was something about those eyes that called to her, touched something in her soul. She had been unable to tell at that moment just what it was about them, but had she known then what she knew now, she would have politely excused herself, packed up her paints, brushes, canvas and easel and made her way to a safe place, away from him.
She hadn’t known then, of course. “You sound like pretty is a bad thing.”
“No, pretty is a good thing. Look at you, for example. You’re very pretty. But, of course, there’s more to you than pretty. I can see it.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a passion bubbling just beneath the surface. A passion that, sadly, is lacking in your work.”
She didn’t know whether to slap him or agree with him as she surveyed the image on the canvas. She had been painting a still life of the gently flowing river in the sunlight, a scattering of people going about their days in various activities. She had thought, up to that point, that it was one of her better works. Looking at it now she had to admit, reluctantly, that it did seem to lack a certain life... maybe even passion.
“I suppose you’d have me believe you are some great expert on passion, monsour?”
“Ah, Mademoiselle, I know passion.”
“I appreciate your critique of my work, monsour, but I need no instruction in the art of passion. Especially from a stranger. I am, after all, a proper lady.”
He feigned a look of indignant hurt. “Oh, you have mistaken my intentions, my lady. While I am a fervent admirer of beautiful women, I was speaking of passion merely in terms of art.”
“So you were. But don’t you think it a bit rude to offer unsolicited advice on something so personal as one’s artistic expression?”
“My intentions were not to offend,” he said, moving close to her and taking a seat on the bench beside her. “I, too, am a painter.”
“Oh, you are?”
“Yes, I’m studying in Paris under one of the great impressionists.”
“Oh,” she said with a sigh. “Them.”
“You have an opinion on impressionism?”
“Of course. I think it’s shit,” she said, trying to remain as ladylike as possible.
He smiled broadly and let out a hearty laugh. “I see you have a strong opinion regarding impressionism. I imagine you have many strong opinions.”
“That I do.”
“Have you studied the style?”
“No, I’ve been hearing the reports. They say it’s done much as a child would smear paint on canvas. I should hope that I have progressed beyond that point.”
“Well, as I said, your painting is very pretty,” he said as he got up and started to walk away.
“Wait,” she said, despite her unease with this intense young man. “You surely aren’t just going to stop to call my work pretty and leave me with my pretty mess. What suggestions do you have?”
“Well,” he said, sitting back down. “If you really want my impression...”
“Clever,” she said. “Beyond your wit, what do you have to add?”
“You are a very independent woman, aren’t you?”
“I take care of myself, if that’s what you mean. I am travelling alone and have no need of guardianship.”
“You are also a woman of independent thought, are you not?”
“Yes, I am. But I am open to the thoughts of others. If you have further musings on my painting style, please do share.”
He leaned close to the canvas, his steel blue eyes taking into account every detail. Even though he wasn’t looking at her at all she felt as if she were being undressed. She was completely uncomfortable with the vulnerability, yet she craved further comment.
He sat silently studying the painting for a long while.
“Well?” she said.
“You are very festidious, very detailed. You have captured the scene quite well, technically.”
“That is a bad thing?”
“Not at all. All I am suggesting is that you have sacraficed your passion to technical perfection.”
“My passion?”
“What of this painting is you?”
“What do you mean?”
“What part of your soul have you imparted to this work? How have you shown me that you see this scene any differently than any mindless peasant wandering along this riverfront?”
She couldn’t answer his question for she had never had the intention of showing how she saw differently. She had only intended to show the scene as it was.
“Anyone can walk along this spot and see what you have shown me,” he continued. “How do you, Andrea DesLores, see this place?”
“How do you know my name?” she said, taken aback by his sudden familiarity.
“I’m familiar with your work.”
“My work isn’t publicly displayed.”
“I’m sure you’ve parted with a piece or two here and there to pay for fresh supplies.”
“Well, of course,” she said, thinking that surely that must be it. He had seen one of the pieces she had sold. There was no other way he could know who she was. She wasn’t, after all, an established artist, though that is why she had come to France, to fulfill her dream of becoming a great artist.
“What would your impressionist colleagues suggest for this piece?” she asked.
“Well, there are many things. First and foremost, you must learn to free yourself, to let your passion flow onto the canvas and express your inner vision.”
“That sounds like rather a daunting task.”
“It can be. Of course anything worth doing takes a great deal of effort.”
“I agree,” she said. “I would like to see some examples of what you’re talking about.”
“I have several in my studio if you would care to have a private viewing sometime.”
“I think I would like that.”
“The invitation is open, mademoiselle.”
“Thank you,” she said.
The next day he had sent a carriage for her along with a written invitation to join him at his studio. Eager to see the work he had described, she went, even though she was still feeling uneasy about the whole matter.
She was awestruck by the simple beauty of the paintings he showed her. She had never seen such freedom of expression, such fluid, graceful brush strokes, such wreckless abandon. She felt as if she were seeing the world in an entirely new and different way.
“How?” was all she could say.
“You have to see things through old eyes,” he said simply. It was at that moment that she understood what she was seeing in his dark eyes. They did appear to be the eyes of a very old person who had seen and lived many things she could only imagine.
“I can show you how,” he said.
“To paint like this?”
“No. To see like this,” he answered excitedly.
Looking back now as she sat on the cold stone bench at Hughes Hill College, Andrea knew that she should have turned away at that moment. But she hadn’t... And that had changed everything.
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Sebastian made his way across the darkened campus to the courtyard behind the administration building and the plaza where the memorial fountain stood. He sat beside the stone slab not knowing that Patrick had been there only hours before, yet somehow he sensed his presence strongly now.
“My dear Patrick,” he whispered out loud. He closed his eyes and could see his face clearly before him. If only he could go to him now, to comfort him, to take him away from this place, away from Nathaniel. But it wouldn’t be that easy, he reminded himself. There was nowhere on earth that would be far enough to run. Nathaniel would always find them. His jealousy, hatred, cruelty and evil nature would not rest until it destroyed anything beautiful and pure like the love that he felt for Patrick.
Except for the fact that Nathaniel had let his bitterness turn him into a soulless monster, Sebastian could almost empathize with his pain. He knew that he was driven by his unrequited love for Jade more than any other motive. It must be nearly as sad to love someone who doesn’t love you as it is to love someone you can’t be with, he thought.
That had been when everything had started to go so terribly wrong, he remembered--when Nathaniel had discovered that Jade’s heart belonged to someone else... to Christian.
Thinking back now as the water splashed gently in the fountain before him, he could almost taste the salty night sea air. They had been on the cruise, all of them. It was to be a celebration, Nathaniel had said. He was going to give Jade the gift and ask her to be with him for eternity...
Sebastian recalled how he and Andrea had already planned to try and spare Jade from the cruel gift. They knew they had to find a way to keep Nathaniel from bringing her into the darkness which he had already bestowed upon both of them. They knew they were walking a fine line between saving Jade and unleashing Nathaniel’s wrath, but they had no idea that Fate would intervene and their work would be done for them.
He recalled the mixture of releif and fear in Andrea’s expression when she had come to him and told him about Jade’s confession to her that she had fallen in love with Christian. He knew this meant that Jade would be spared what they had been cursed with, but he also knew that Nathaniel would not give her up without a fight. What he hadn’t known was just how obsessive and controlling Nathaniel could be, especially when it came to Jade. ***
Jade, Christian, Callie, Donovan and Patrick had spent the evening drinking and getting to know one another better, sharing stories about their childhoods, hometowns, families and old friends. They took for granted how completely comfortable they were together after having known each other for only a few short hours.
It was midnight before Callie noticed how late it had gotten. “I hate to break up the party, guys,” she announced, “but I’ve got a class at 8 o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, shit!” Jade said. “Me, too!”
“Damn,” Patrick whined. “Is everybody gonna go home?”
“You’re drunk,” Donovan said, grinning.
“Am not!” Patrick protested.
“Are too!” Christian said. “I think we better call it a night before you start getting overly friendly.”
“What do you mean?” Jade asked.
“Well...” Christian said, looking to Donovan for help, knowing he’d put his foot in his mouth.
“Oh, hell,” Donovan said. “He doesn’t care anymore. Tell ‘em.”
“You sure?” Christian asked, looking at Patrick who was clearly beyond speaking for himself. God, it didn’t take much to get him drunk!
“Yeah, really,” Donovan said.
“Well, Patrick here has a little problem with alcohol,” Christian explained. “When he drinks too much he starts getting a little touchy-feely.”
“Oh, my!” Jade said, pretending to be shocked.
“Well, you wouldn’t have a problem...” Christian offered tentatively.
“Huh?” Jade asked.
“He likes guys.”
“Oh,” she said, clearly a little shocked.
“Yeah, it probably wouldn’t be long before he’d be crawling over here,” Christian said with a slightly uncomfortable grin.
“But you’re not...” Jade began.
“Oh, no. But that doesn’t matter to Patrick when he’s drunk.”
“Oh, I see,” Jade said. “Well, I guess we better call it a night then.”
“I’ll get lover boy back to his room,” Donovan said. “Wanna come with us, Callie? I can walk you to your dorm after we drop him off.”
“Sure. That would be nice. I don’t really want to walk around campus by myself.”
“I’ll walk you to your room, Jade,” Christian volunteered.
“Sure,” she said with a smile. “That would be really nice. I’m not scared or anything, but you know.”
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