Heather fought to hold the tray steady as she knelt before her Mistress, her thighs spread wide as Marcie lay between them, gently licking Heather's pussy to the edge of a withheld orgasm. Heather let out another shaky moan as Marcie teased her clit with quick flicks of her tongue until she trembled, rattling the cutlery on the plate.

"Steady now, slave," Laura said in a soft but admonishing voice. She put down the glass of wine next to the plate and picked up the knife and fork. "Don't make me punish you again." With exaggerated care, she cut another piece of baked fish and brought it halfway to her lips when she paused and smiled. "Unless you want me to, that is."

Heather shivered, her fingers curling hard around the edges of the tray. Her ass still glowed pink from the spanking her Mistress had given her almost as soon as she had arrived. She knew not the transgression, only how she gushed in sweet orgasm as the last stinging blow was delivered. The thought of experiencing it again made her nipples tingle in the tight confines of her maid costume.

Laura finished chewing her bite of lunch before she spoke again. "Do you know why I punished you, slave?"

Heather swallowed. "No, Mistress, I ... uhng ... oh God ... I-I don't know."

Halfway through her answer, Marcie had plastered her mouth to Heather's mound and sucked hard. Heather let out another quaking sigh, her arms aching from the effort of acting as Laura's lunch table.

Laura lazily cut another piece of fish. "You didn't do what I told you to do over the Thanksgiving holiday."

Heather's head spun. Her hips squirmed as if it would somehow hasten her orgasm, though she knew she would not cum until Mistress decided she could.

"Or at least I assume you didn't, as I could not sense you very well most of yesterday."

Heather pushed a thought through the fog of unrelenting lust. "I-I tried, Mistress. I ... I put on the underwear ... I was so sexy for you ... I wanted you to see it."

Laura nodded once. "Go on."

Marcie thrust her tongue in and out of Heather's pussy until the wine glass rattled and walked itself towards the edge.

Laura sighed and took the wine glass. "Marcie, stop. Come here."

Marcie scrambled out from under Heather. She crawled up to the side of Laura's chair, the heart-shaped tag on her collar tinkling. She remained on her knees and placed her hands on the hand rest of the chair.

"Down," Laura said.

Marcie dropped her hands from the hand rest to the floor.

"Heel."

Marcie settled back on her feet and looked up at her owner in adoration.

Laura smiled. "Good girl. Have a treat."

Marcie shuddered and uttered a gasp as her hips writhed. She let out a whimper not unlike a dog and panted softly, her eyes closing. Her lips curled into a smile of mindless pleasure.

Heather stared, her stomach twisting in revulsion even as some of her enslaved psyche watched with envy. Marcie was like this every moment she was in the house. As soon as she came home from work, she would take off her clothes and curl up in front of Laura's favorite chair. Mistress had claimed she had made Marcie into what she wanted to be all along, keeping her functional during the day for appearances and to bring an additional income into the household.

"Wouldn't you just love to be that way yourself?" Laura said with a sly grin.

Heather's gaze snapped back to her Mistress. The word "no" had formed in her head, but she could not force it past her lips.

"She has not a care in her empty little head. Not that there had been much to begin with." Laura put down the wine glass and took another meticulous bite of lunch. "But you still have not answered my question."

Heather saw the answer she wanted to give. It sat there in her mind as one lonely spark inside a cavern filled with shadow. It was not what Mistress wanted, and that meant Heather did not want it either.

"Yes," Heather breathed. "I want t-to be that way myself."

She knew it to be a lie, yet her pussy ached anyway, and she longed for that one final climax which would destroy her will forever as it had Marcie.

Laura smiled. "I can sense it this time, too, You're starting to come around."

Heather moaned and tried one last desperate attempt to draw upon that burst of blue-white energy which had suffused her mind right before lunch. She wished she had been prepared so she could have tried to save some of it. In that instant before it had drained away, she had felt a sense of self again. She had remained in Mistress' thrall, but she could better distinguish herself from the slave persona. She was Heather Sovert, a teenage girl who happened to be acting the part of a sex slave dressed as a French maid.

"Wouldn't it be wonderful to lose yourself completely like that?"

"Y-yes," Heather breathed, her nipples throbbing.

Laura picked up the wine glass and took a small sip. "Oh, it would give me so much pleasure to make you into my mindless little sex toy," she cooed. "But the joy would not last. I prefer you like this, with enough of a mind to understand what is happening to you. But I'll make sure you desire mindlessness so much you'll ache for it, and you'll hope every orgasm I give is the one in which all your remaining will drains away to nothing."

Heather shivered, the fork sliding off the plate and clattering to the tray. Her hips squirmed as her pussy steamed, her folds desperate to be touched again. Dark desire cast a thickening pall over her mind. If any energy had remained, she would never find it now. All she saw was herself, a pretty dog collar around her neck, curled up at her Mistress' feet.

"Let's return to Thanksgiving," Laura said. "Do you know why I couldn't sense you, slave?"

Something in Heather's mind pleaded with her to claim she did not know, but it sounded like a voice yelling from across a crowded, noisy room. "My ... my mother ..." Heather breathed.

"Hmm. As I suspected."

That Mistress already knew the answer did not alleviate the sense of betrayal. She felt no sense of irony; any potential ally was worth protecting. Maybe she would have felt differently if the line had not moved.

Line energy! Is that what had entered her head earlier? Where had it come from? The sudden spin of questions helped push back the haze of lust, and her grip on the tray become more steady. Without any answers, they would not sustain her long.

Laura ate the last few bites of lunch with more alacrity and settled back in her chair with the remainder of her wine. "Your mother is playing with fire. But then again, that is what got her into her predicament in the first place."

Heather's eyes widened.

Laura smiled. "So your mother never told you how she got involved with the Darkness, hmm?"

Heather shook her head slowly.

"Would it surprise you to know she submitted to it of her own free will?"

Heather stared, her mind frozen. The memories of the times her mother had claimed she was protecting them were viewed through the delicate panes of ice that were her emotions, ready to shatter at the least blow.

"So she betrays her own daughters, and now she expects she can claim them back." Laura shook her head and clicked her tongue. "I suppose she considers selling you into slavery 'protecting' you from something worse?"

Heather gave a single, weak nod as all rationality fell apart.

"Or perhaps she is preparing you for a role she had intended from the start."

Heather's head spun. She could not tell what reality made more sense. This is just a trick, came the last coherent thought from a rising tide of anguish. Just a way to put a wedge between ...

"So you'll have to decide, slave. What's worse? Letting your mother turn you over to the Darkness, where you will surely become mindless, or become my permanent slave, where I will at least let you remember your name?"

Heather trembled until the tray rattled. Laura put down her wine on the end table and took the tray. Mistress gestured, and Heather stood on shaky legs. Heather gasped when her Mistress touched her mound, a single finger dipping into her tight tunnel, then sliding back to tease the tip of her clit. Heather shuddered and whimpered, her pussy straining on the edge.

"Cum, slave," Laura said in a soft voice.

Pleasure exploded inside Heather, and her pussy gushed into Laura's hand and ran down her thighs, dripping to the large bath towel Mistress had placed prior to lunch. For a fleeting moment, she wished her remaining will would drain from her as well, leaving her with no conflict, no worries, no emotional pain. Instead, the bliss which suffused her mind left it intact, and when it faded, she faced the same choice to remain her Mistress' slave forever.

Shortly after leaving Jason's neighborhood, Debby pulled off to the side of the road. The strong mother persona she had managed to project to Jason and Richie had crumbled, and she slumped over the wheel until the flow of tears dried up and her hands stopped shaking.

She felt more angry at herself than anything else. She had dared to believe she could handle herself like the other Harbingers and confront the Darkness head-on. She understood what had come over her. She was the only adult in the group, and thus her duty was to protect children from danger.

Debby flinched when her cell phone rang. She wiped her eyes with annoyed swipes of her hand as she pulled out the phone. "Yes, hello?"

"Mrs. Radson, are you all right?!"

"I'm all right, Cassie, and Jason is okay as well."

"I felt something over the link," said Cassie. "First Diane and then you, but everything was a jumble. I thought I saw energy from the lines."

"Yes, you did. It appears Diane has retained something from that spell. She can channel line energy."

Cassie gasped. "Oh goodness ... I-I don't know if that's bad or good."

Debby gripped the steering wheel with her free hand as if to anchor herself, and her voice cracked slightly as she said, "Today it was good, since it was what stopped Mrs. Sovert from taking her yesterday, and she helped save me from myself today."

"What? I don't understand."

Debby sighed. "Jason was right, Cassie. His mother ..." She trailed off when her throat threatened to close up, and her vision blurred with new tears.

"Oh no. This ... this is terrible. This can't be happening."

Debby wiped her eyes again and cleared her throat. "Jason is okay, I saw him and Richie just before I left. I'm also getting the sense his father is helping him."

"His father?" Cassie cried. "But Jason thought he was part of the problem."

"At this point, we need whatever help we can get, if just to hold off the Darkness until we understand what's happening."

"I'm sorry I can't be much help today. I was lucky to get even this little bit of time."

"Please contact me over the weekend," Debby said. "One of Jason's mantras is that we should tell each other everything. You need to explain to me what happened over Thanksgiving."

"I-I will, Mrs. Radson. I'm hoping by then it won't spook me as much. I better get back, or Mother will come looking for me. I was supposed to be going to the bathroom. Oh, and can you call Ned for me, please? Just let him know everything's okay, since he probably sensed something as well."

"I will, Cassie, soon as I get home. I don't have his number handy."

"Thanks! Bye, Mrs. Radson."

Cassie hung up before the first syllable of "goodbye" could reach Debby's lips.

Debby snapped the phone closed. She covered her eyes with her hand for a moment and rubbed the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes against the sunlight to see if it would chase away the headache lurking above her eyes.

She thought about Elizabeth's journal and shuddered. The depth of the woman's understanding of the Darkness and how it manipulated the human mind was astounding now that more of the pieces had fallen into place. She still could not recall Elizabeth coming up with a working solution. Debby had once stated she had read the journal herself so many times she had memorized it; now she wondered if that were a valid claim.

For all their sake, she hoped not.

"How do you do it, Richie?" Jason asked as they started down Green Avenue.

"Huh? How I do what?"

"Just all the shit you deal with at home."

Richie shrugged. "I dunno. Guess I just got good at it. Had a lot of practice."

Jason sighed and nodded, looking straight ahead without really focusing on anything. "I guess that's what I need, practice," he said in a toneless voice.

Richie glanced at his friend. "So everything was just peachy and perfect in your house, just like on the old TV shows?"

"Well, no, not perfect. Ever since we moved to Haven, Mom's always been a little upset with Dad about the time he spends at the hospital."

"Huh, yeah. Amazing how much shit started happening after people come here. You just got lucky it wasn't more than that."

"How can I be sure it wasn't?" Jason said. "I have no idea how long my father's been like this. Maybe it went back as far as when we moved."

"Yeah, but did he fuck with you? Did he totally screw up your life?"

"No," Jason said in a small voice.

"So be freaking grateful for that."

Jason said nothing and resumed staring straight ahead.

Richie rolled his eyes. "You still hung up about your Mom? You still think that fucking her would really mess with her?"

"Yes, I do," Jason said in a low voice.

"I dunno what to tell you, dude."

Jason turned to his friend and almost said something he realized at the last moment he would regret. He almost asked Richie if he had ever considered that he may have already caused his mother harm. The question would have been counterproductive and moot, as whatever damage could happen likely had happened.

"You can't take a fucking job," Richie declared. "Even if it's just sweeping the floor at the freaking supermarket. What the hell kinda time are you gonna have?"

Jason stopped and turned towards Richie. "I think it's pretty much a forgone conclusion that whatever job pops up on the board will be at the Inn. We already know the Darkness is based there."

"And what the fuck do you think they're gonna make you do?"

"I don't know, and it's scaring the shit out of me!"

Richie gave him a surprised look.

"You want to know my real reason for wanting to protect my mother's sanity?" said Jason. "Because until now I felt she's been the last bulwark I have against my father."

"Fuck, dude, he was on your side!"

"I know! And I have no clue what to think about it. What if he's on my side only because the Darkness will jeopardize his own plans? It's all about allies of convenience, Richie. Fine, he's on our side now. But eventually, I -- all of us -- will be in his way, and that's when I'm going to need my mother the most."

"What the fuck, you're gonna pit your mother against your father?" said Richie.

"No. I can't explain it, but I feel like I'm going to need her for support. It doesn't make any logical sense, but logic isn't giving me the whole story anymore. Maybe I just want one person close to me to be free of all the shit that's happening in this fucking stupid town."

Jason took a few steps away from Richie. Richie was about to retort when he heard Jason sniffle. Richie averted his eyes and scratched his head. Seeing a girl cry made him sympathize; seeing a guy cry made him uncomfortable.

Jason heaved a sigh and turned around. "Sorry."

"Okay, fine, you want to protect your Mom," Richie said in a more contrite voice. "Then you get fucked over instead. Where the hell is that gonna leave the rest of us, huh?"

"I've told you all before, you can't rely on just--"

"Get over that, man, it's fucking old! You said yourself you were gonna stop griping about being the leader of the Harbingers."

"It's not about being the leader. It's about everyone relying on me for the answers. No one of us can be so indispensable that losing that person will cause everything to fall apart."

"What, you think we even have a whole group anymore? Heather's busy playing miss slutty maid to the freaking school principal, Melinda's been totally fucked over by her mother, and I got my own problems. And you were the one getting all upset when Mrs. Radson almost became your mother's fucking sex slave."

With great effort, Jason stopped himself from retorting, his mouth already open to deliver the next volley. He closed it and forced himself to think. While logic was indeed not telling him the entire story, abandoning it in favor of rampant emotionalism would help even less.

"Look at it this way, Richie," Jason said in a calmer voice. "Say I defy my mother and don't take the job. Now the Darkness has her ... h-has her do stuff with me. Maybe I'll hold out. Then at some point I stop being the ally of convenience for my father or he decides neither of us is worth saving. Then I fall to one or the other, as I'd never be able to defend against both at once.

"So now consider the alternative. I take the job and try to hold out against the Darkness' influence. At least then I can give you all some hint of what's going on at the Inn. Then if any of you try to rescue me, you're fighting only one enemy, not both the Darkness and whatever forces are behind my father."

Richie frowned. "Shit, you're really paranoid about your Dad. You're starting to sound like a conspiracy nut. Gonna start looking for grassy knolls now?"

Jason took a deep breath, but impatience edged his voice. "The hospital is adding a new wing when it already has about, on average, a twenty percent vacancy rate, and he's overseeing the project. Data about said project is located nowhere on the hospital's computer network, but there is a section of their intranet which is intensely firewalled, and what little data I've captured from it is using military-strength encryption. A few weeks ago, I overheard Brad bragging to his friends that his father, a career army officer, is part of some hush-hush project on the military base just northwest of town. He let slip that his father was showing around some important staff member from the hospital."

Jason uttered a tired sigh. "Okay, fine, call it circumstantial evidence. It probably is. But too many times, things which we thought were coincidences turned out to have major significance. So you tell me, Richie: in any potential rescue scenario, do you want to fight just the Darkness, or the Darkness and the United States military?"

Richie paused, face creased into a slight frown. "Fuck, I wish you'd stop assuming everyone has as big a freaking IQ as you do," he grumbled.

"Richie, your own words: this isn't rocket science," said Jason. "And you yourself said you were of the opinion that the only way to totally fuck something up beyond recognition was to get the government involved."

"Yeah, yeah, I know what I said!" Richie snapped. "Look, why can't we help you hold out? Did your giant nerd-brain think about that?"

"Yes, I did. But we don't have the right tools yet."

"Huh?"

"Elizabeth made some sort of breakthrough. The part of the journal I'm reading now describes techniques to keep the Darkness out of one's mind. I think I can get through the journal far enough to find out what she did, but there won't be enough time for me to learn it. But the rest of you can, and then you can help me."

Richie frowned. "Something don't seem right, dude."

"Why?" Jason demanded in an exasperated voice. "It's the only plan which makes sense given the alternatives."

"If she had such a fucking great weapon against the Darkness, why the hell didn't she use it herself? Why is the fucker still here?"

"First off, it's not a weapon, it's a defense. Second, she's almost sixty years old at this point in the journal. She may not have had the stamina, either physically or sexually, to continue much longer."

Richie wrinkled his nose. "Pushing sixty and still ... ugh, where's the brain bleach?"

Jason cast an annoyed look at his friend and was about to retort when a car approached from up the road. The driver waved as he passed. "That was my father," Jason said. "He just got back from taking Aunt Betty to the city. I better get home. I'll try to contact you over the weekend. Maybe you can tell me how the call with your father went."

Richie scratched his head. "Um ... I might ... I gotta wait a bit, you know? Kinda a lot to take in, being able to talk to my Dad after all this time and all that."

Jason uttered a barely audible sigh and nodded, turning away without another word. Richie waved, even though Jason would not see the gesture.

Diane looked up from where she sat on the front steps of Debby's house when she saw a familiar car approach from up the street. She let out a relieved sigh and stood when the car pulled into the driveway. "Mrs. Radson, I'm sorry I camped out on your doorstep like this," she began barely seconds after Debby had killed the engine. "I just had to see that you're okay."

Debby got out of the car and drew Diane into a tight hug, much to Diane's surprise. "Yes, I'm okay," Debby said in a choked whisper. "I'm okay thanks to you."

Diane returned the hug and tried to draw comfort from it, but she was too agitated. "I didn't really know what I was doing. I'm not even sure why I did it."

Debby broke off the hug and smiled. "I believe you did it because you sensed someone was going to need it."

Diane swallowed. "O-or I was controlled into it," she said in a tiny voice.

"No, Diane, you weren't. This has nothing to do with control. It likely has to do with the shared link between you and your fellow Harbingers. Hasn't this happened before, when one has sensed when another was in trouble?"

"Yes, but never to me, or at least never for anyone other than Heather."

"Now, are you okay?" Debby asked. "From the amount of energy I felt come over the link, you must have had a very powerful orgasm. I have salves you can apply if your vagina is sore."

Diane's cheeks grew warm. "Mrs. Radson, please ... c-can we talk about that sort of stuff inside? I feel like I've already done more out in the open than I wanted."

Debby's eyes widened. "Oh, great Goddess, it never occurred to me you would have to ... yes, yes, of course, how foolish of me." She unlocked the front door and ushered Diane inside. "Would you like some tea or hot chocolate, dear?"

Diane shook her head and sank into the sofa. She sighed and dropped her face into her hands for a moment. "This is insane. I can't believe what I just did."

Debby sat down next to her and placed a hand on Diane's shoulder. "Did you really have to do it outside?"

"I couldn't find any other place on the map that was along a line that I could get to. I mean, the area was sort of abandoned, people really only go there during the summer, but still."

"And you're sure you're not hurt in any way?"

Diane blushed. "Well, I kinda ache a little ..." She waved vaguely at her thighs. "Um, down there, but it's going away. Mrs. Radson, I know that sort of thing is supposed to be pleasant, and ... a-and I'm sure ... sort of ... that no one was controlling me, but it was like it wouldn't stop, like I couldn't even breathe. After it was over, I was too drained to move, not even enough to pull my jeans up my legs."

Debby nodded. "Yes, I think I understand what happened. When you first drew on the energy from the line, it had nowhere to go, so it fed your sexual energy."

"I-I felt like I was going to explode. Or die." Diane stared at Debby, eyes wide. "Someone can't ... you can't really die from that sort of thing? I mean, God, that sounds stupid, doesn't it? Death by freaking orgasm."

Debby took Diane's hand and squeezed it. "I don't think it's possible, but I understand it can be uncomfortable."

"I know you said I helped you, but I don't want to do it again if it means going through that."

"You don't have to. The only reason it happened that way is because you didn't know how to direct the energy."

"But what if I do that when no one needs it?"

"Your body will keep doing what it did today, which is convert it into sexual energy," said Debby. "You can either store it for awhile, or you can let it go more slowly, which means a more sedate and pleasant if much longer orgasm."

"The first part, that's what the other Harbingers do when they have sex, right?" Diane asked. "Some of that energy is getting stored. I mean, that's why we're supposed to do it."

"Yes, exactly."

Diane shook her head. "No, it isn't working for me. I never feel like I store anything."

Debby tilted her head. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I never have any energy for Heather, I always have to make it right when I want to send it to her."

"Heather is being blocked or is not accepting--"

"I know all that!" Diane snapped. "But I can feel the energy going out over the link even if she doesn't take it. I never have more than a trickle."

Debby looked nonplussed. "But wasn't this working before?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe. I guess it was." Diane sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Shit, this is just like when I couldn't see the Auras. Except now I can and I'm still useless."

Debby squeezed her hand again. "You are not useless. Now, tell me, when did this start happening?"

Diane sighed and yanked her hand away, throwing both up in the air. "I don't know!"

"You said it was working before. Was that before the spell was used on you?"

Diane paused, then gave Debby a stricken look.

"I know what you're thinking," said Debby. "And it's not true. The spell didn't 'damage' you in any way."

"How can you say that?" Diane cried. "It took away something I really needed!"

"And gave you something in return which may be more useful."

"But it's useful only when I'm on one of the damn lines. How can I do anything with it if I can't even store it?"

"Because your ability to store energy may simply be blocked. Now, hear me out, please. I'm looking at your psychic aura right now."

Diane gave her a confused look. "Right now? I thought you had to do that thing with the candle to see it."

"Not since the line moved closer. Now, each of the Harbingers have several unique bands which others don't share. They represent their closer ties to the supernatural. I still see the same bands in yours. They have not shrunk or appear damaged with in any way."

Diane slowly nodded. "Um, okay. Can you see what's blocking me then?"

"Unfortunately, I can't. The psychic aura can show many things, but it represents only the outer layers of your psyche."

Diane said in a flat voice, "So it's all in my head?"

Debby sighed. "That's a very loaded question, Diane."

"But that's what you're saying, that I can't do this anymore because something in my head is stopping me. Like I need a shrink. We all saw how great that went over last time. Mrs. Radson, is there anything you can do for me? Can you help me get this thing unblocked?"

"Yes, I know of some techniques but--"

"But what?"

Debby paused, a pained look on her face. "I know of some techniques which help people store sexual energy. They're more intended for ordinary people who are not touched by the supernatural, but they might help unblock you. But ... they're very intimate in nature."

"Oh," Diane said in a low voice. After a moment of hesitation, she said in halting tones, "I ... I could deal with that. I mean, I am a lesbian. Hey, um, we're all supposed to be doing this anyway, right? I mean, not like we haven't already done it."

Debby nodded slowly, forcing a smile to her lips.

Even as distraught as Diane was, she understood Debby's dilemma. Link-based sex was driven by need; this was sex which would be planned and deliberate, and likely ran headlong into Debby's issues about becoming sexually involved with underage teenagers.

Diane was desperate enough not to care for Debby's issues. "So when can we start? I mean, not today. I think I'm just too drained to try this right now."

"No, I agree, Diane," said Debby. "Can you come over about ten tomorrow morning? I think everyone else will be out of the house by then."

Diane nodded and managed a small smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Radson, I don't know what I would have done without you these past few days." She stood, and Debby followed. "Oh, can you tell me one more thing before I go? What was happening with you? What did I help you with?"

Debby appeared hesitant. "Jason's mother has been affected by the Darkness."

Diane gasped, and her hands flew to her cheeks, her eyes shimmering.

"Jason is okay," Debby said in a firm voice. "I saw him myself outside before I left. He's unaffected."

"B-but ... how long can that go on before ...?"

"Jason is one of the strongest of us. He can hold out long enough for us to figure out what to do. And when I was with Mrs. Conner, I sensed she is still fighting it."

Diane wrapped her arms around herself. "I sure hope you're right. I don't want this whole mess hinging on ... o-on ..." She shook her head. "Never mind. I better get going so my Mom doesn't worry about me."

Debby followed her to the door. "Home is the best place for you until we can figure out how to tame this new ability of yours, but I want to help unblock your other one first."

Diane nodded and sighed. "I just don't want to keep feeling so useless where Heather is concerned. As much as I'm glad I helped you, I wish some of that energy could have gone to Heather." She opened the front door and said without turning around, "I'll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Radson."

October 23rd, 1975 - I had a most frightful experience today, but it did not become so until a half hour ago. It has taken me that long to calm myself so I was not too shaky to write.

I encountered Victor Mann again. This time he did not pretend it was a coincidence. He knew me by name and said he wanted to speak to me about a girl I'll call Rhonda. I had been counseling her for the past two weeks. The sixteen year old girl had manifested a powerful sexual awakening after many years of a near monastic life imposed by her very conservative parents.

I had tried to tame her wild sexual energies with only marginal success. I feared she was falling under an evil influence. Her dreams were most disturbing, filled with dark erotic imagery of sexual slavery. She felt she was losing herself, as powerfully aroused as her dreams made her. I could not help but think Victor may have been responsible. With Halloween fast approaching, the time when a girl Rhonda's age would suddenly disappear, I feared for her very spirit.

Victor approached me as if we were close friends.

And we were! I had no reason for fear or doubt. He was just as concerned about Rhonda's well-being as I was. Even more so! As it turns out, he has been working with Rhonda as well. His only quibble was that our techniques were coming into conflict and thus that was the reason she failed to improve. Oh, it was so obvious he was the better one for the job. My efforts paled in comparison to his. Of course I would let him finish working on Rhonda. I would defer to him, as I just KNEW that he

(The next two lines were barely legible, deteriorating to a scrawl)

Please

I need a moment

I'm sorry. I couldn't hold it in. I just cried for almost an hour. I've given that sweet girl to a monster, and even as I realize it, I cannot shake the belief he is my better and knows best. It's like my mind is trying to believe two opposite things at once and SUCCEEDING.

It was only hours later I could break myself out of some of his influence. His power is different than the Darkness. He reshapes perceptions of reality, and the mind is forced to follow along. He changes things by literally believing in the way he wants them.

But I did break away. My technique worked as it had before. It's still horribly crude, but it managed to force some of my perceptions back to normal. It might have worked better if I had pit it against that which it had been originally intended, but I am not ready for that sort of test yet.

I have enhanced the technique by learning to re-focus my sexual energy into a sort of shield wrapped around the deep recesses of my mind, into which I had drawn my psyche. It is not perfect, in that it can be worn down with persistent attacks, or in the case of Victor, subverted by changing the very foundation of the mind's concept of reality.

I had achieved this state before meeting Victor. Part of me had effectively retreated into the innermost depths of my mind, where it lay partially protected from his influence. When it emerged later, I could realize what had been done to me even if I could not change it. It should work better against the Darkness, for even it has limits; it must control the outer layers of the mind or find a weakness before it can penetrate deeper.

But it's so hard. The few times I have achieved this state, I had terrible nightmares the following night. The two are related, but the imagery from my nightmares vanishes too quickly for me to decipher it. But I'm on the right track. By the Goddess, I know I am. I just need more time.

Jason set down the page and rubbed his eyes. He let out a tremulous sigh and glanced at the time. He had been at this for over four hours. He ran his hand through his hair and stared at the page again. His eyes drifted over the last sentence. More time was something Jason needed as well.

He climbed off the bed and plopped into the chair before his computer. He reloaded the browser page. Still nothing new had been posted on the community board.

Jason turned his head towards the door. After he had arrived home, he had overheard a brief but heated argument between his parents, but he could not make out much of what was said. The silence which followed had been so stark that Jason had crept out of his room to make sure they were okay.

The computer chimed, and the "Intrusion Alarm" alert popped up.

Jason jumped out of his chair and grabbed the journal. He heard footfalls on the stairs just as he finished stashing the pages under the bed. He leapt onto the bed and withdrew a science magazine from behind his pillow, opening it in his lap just as a knock sounded at the door. "Son?"

Jason forced himself to relax. "Come in, Dad."

The door opened, and Henry stood on the threshold. "Dinner will be ready in about five minutes," he said in a subdued voice.

Jason nodded, not taking his eyes from the magazine, even as his father continued to stand in the door.

"Jason."

Jason bit back a sigh and looked up.

Henry leaned against the door frame. Ice rattled in a glass just out of view. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

"I was out of the house the whole time, Dad."

"That has nothing to do with what I asked," Henry said. "Did anything happen regardless of you being home?"

"Well, if something did happen here and I was not home, logically I would not know it happened. So perhaps some theoretical incident occurred, which represents knowledge in potentia of said--"

"Stop it."

Jason sighed. "Mom ... Mom tried something to a woman I know but didn't succeed. I didn't see it happen. I only know about it after the fact. There's nothing you can do about it."

Henry narrowed his eyes. "You can see it."

Jason remained silent and perfectly still until he could rein in his panic. "See what?"

"You can see what is influencing your mother."

"Of course I can. You said yourself it was obvious she's under some sort of--"

"I don't mean that."

Jason fell silent and stared at his father.

"You see something. Something tangible. Something you can pick out of a crowd. It makes sense, considering--"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jason said in a flat voice.

Henry sighed. "Fine. Come down to dinner, now. Don't make your mother upset." He brought a glass of scotch to his lips just before he headed away, leaving the door ajar.

Jason hopped off the bed. He hoped his father's revelation was nothing more than a random thought from an alcohol fog. He sighed as he headed out the door. He hated how every moment of his life was a fight on two fronts.

Ned gave a low whistle after Cassie finished telling him over the phone what she had heard from Debby. "Huh, yeah. I think I jus' found the slogan fer the Harbingers: if things can get worse, they will."

"I want to contact Jason tomorrow," Cassie said. "I know Mrs. Radson said he was all right, but--"

"Ya know, mebbe ya should try ta find some time ta do the horizontal fandango with him."

"Oh, Ned, I'm sure my thoughts are going to be as far from sex as they can get."

"Yeah, and that's part of the problem, y'see. If ever we needed ta keep our energy up, now's the time."

"It can't even penetrate whatever corruption the Darkness has done to the lines."

"No, but he can at least store some of it in case his mother pulls a Sandra Gardner on him."

"Frankly I don't know if I'll be able to do anything tomorrow," said Cassie in a forlorn voice.

Ned leaned against the wall and kicked the leg of the small table under the phone. "Aw, crap, your mother gonna stop ya from seein' me again?"

"No, worse. Harry has to chaperon me at all times. Wherever I go, he has to be right there in the room with me."

"Shit, yeah, that's gonna make certain things kinda hard." Ned paused. "Um ... unless ..."

Ned heard Cassie sigh but no further response.

Ned rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, babe, I know how ya feel about that sorta thing, but--"

"Yes, I know," Cassie snapped. "You don't have to remind me."

"Sorry."

Cassie paused, then said in a contrite voice, "No, I'm the one who's sorry. Goodness, Ned, I wish you were here right now."

Ned closed his eyes and gripped the receiver tighter. "Me, too, babe," he said softly. "Now I wanna keep ya ta myself tomorrow."

"I just don't know how you manage not to be jealous."

Ned sighed and fell into the seat of a scuffed wooden chair next to the table. The uneven legs banged against the floor as he leaned back. "Ya know, if it was some total stranger, yeah, I'd have problems. But, I dunno, I guess I feel a sorta bond or something with people who stopped me from doin' something of epic stupidity thanks to Hello Nurse Nyssa."

"Thank you, Ned," Cassie said with a sigh of relief. "That's the answer I wanted to hear."

"Oh? Didn't know this was multiple choice. How'd'ya know I didn't jus' guess the right answer? Yer talkin' ta a guy whose gonna bring dice ta the SAT."

Cassie giggled. "I meant it's better than saying you accept it because we have to do it."

Ned smiled. "Mebbe I believed that once but that's never enough ta make me do anything. Okay, so, can ya pick me up tomorrow morning before ya head over ta Jason's place?"

"Yes, of course. I'll try to be there early. The sooner I can get away from this mansion after a day of having to appear all prim and proper, the better. But I'll really need a lot of time to talk to Mrs. Radson. She wants to know what happened at Thanksgiving, and I'd feel better if you were with me. It's going to be nerve-wracking enough talking about it."

"Sure thing, babe. I'll see ya tomorrow morning."

"Okay. I love you, Ned."

"Love ya, too, Cassie."

Henry feigned sleep until he heard Audrey's soft, wheezy snore. He opened his eyes and rolled over, taking care not to trigger the squeaky bedspring just to his side of center. He gazed at her back and watched the swell of her sides as she breathed.

His eyes drifted down her back. He peeled away the blanket and saw where part of the sheet had become caught under her, drawing it tight across her rear. His gaze lingered, and he both marveled and lamented at how tight her ass had remained even after all these years.

He placed his free hand over the spot of the squeaky spring. That mattress had come with them in their move from the city. Audrey had adored hearing that little squeak when they made love, even it if made her giggle madly through the whole thing. He was tempted to press into the spring and let the noise wake her up and remind her of a simpler time.

Henry sighed and withdrew his hand. He slipped out of bed, grabbing his cell phone from the top of the bureau as he headed into the bathroom. He was dialing even before he had closed the door behind him.

After five rings, a bleary and annoyed voice answered, "Havers. And this better be good."

"Henry Conner," Henry said in a low but urgent voice. "And you need to tell me something."

"Oh, I do, do I?" said Ted Havers in a dry voice. "Don't presume so much. Even if I could give you whatever information you want, I may not just to piss you off."

"Stop with the games. I have to know. Did the lines move?"

Havers paused. "You wouldn't be asking me if you didn't already think so yourself."

"I said, no games. Just level with me. Did any of them move?"

"I don't have the most recent data at home, for God's sake!"

"Bullshit. You get notified immediately of changes like that."

Havers sighed. "Much of that information is need to know, Hank, even for you."

"Well, I have a need to know."

"Why?"

Henry cracked the door open long enough to hear Audrey's snore turn into the soft sighing of deeper sleep. "It's my wife," he said in a flat voice. "She's being influenced by it."

Another pause. "All right," Havers said with an exasperated sigh. "What else?"

"What do you mean 'what else?' What more do you need?"

"What is with this sudden streak of sentiment? I didn't hear you talk about your own son like this when we had the excursion incident at the campgrounds."

"This is different!" Henry hissed. "My son can defend himself. He has friends who can help him. My wife has neither."

"Hank," Havers said in a flat voice. "You better not be about to ask--"

"No," Henry declared. "Not yet."

"Not ever."

Henry remained silent, his fingers tightening around his phone.

"Dammit, Hank, you knew what this would entail when we recruited you. You knew you would have to give up sex outside of carefully controlled conditions until we understood better how this worked, how the power manifested, how--"

"I said I was not asking that. Stop making me sound like I'm just starved for sex. All I want is confirmation that the lines moved."

"Again: why?"

"Because if that goddamn thing out there has latched onto Audrey, it's going to be damned harder for me to keep your project's secrets, what with a son already snooping around my home, my personal effects, even the hospital's network. Fuck, Ted, he had a freaking keylogger on my PC, and I have no clue how he got it on there. I want to know what the hell I'm dealing with."

Havers sighed. "Yes. We detected movement of Line Beta."

"It's running right under this house now, isn't it?"

"That was its projected path when I last looked at the data, yes. So now you know. What now?"

Henry was quiet for a moment. "I don't know."

"All right," Havers said. "I can pull some strings and get you out of there."

Henry frowned. "What?"

"We can find an apartment for you downtown. I always had my doubts about settling you so close to one of the lines, no matter what scientific data it revealed about--"

"I'm not abandoning my wife and son to this thing!"

"You said yourself, Hank, the very last time we had a discussion like this, when we almost had an uncontrolled excursion. When I said this was your own son you're talking about, your response was 'this is more important.' Has that changed?"

"No," Henry said in a low voice. "We need to see this through. We've come too far. We have to learn how to contain it, how to control it."

"Nevertheless, I'll remind you again," Havers said. "The military applications are as game-changing as nuclear warfare. Wars won without firing a shot, without sending Americans home in body bags. Shit, this could make the nukes obsolete. Think we would be losing so many thousands of men in Iraq if we had the ability to shape people's minds?"

Henry closed his eyes. "I know, Ted, I know," he said in a soft voice. He slowly opened his eyes. "Thank you for leveling with me."

"Between you and me, I'll be glad when we get the Haven Project off the ground. Then we'll really make some headway. Any word on when we can start? The Secretary is itching for an early launch."

"May is the earliest projection I have. That hasn't changed."

"Expect a lot of pressure to get it done sooner. Especially if these 'Harbingers' start losing ground to it."

"Perhaps you should consider that in the context of my wife."

"Good night, Hank," Havers said in a tight voice.

Henry lowered the phone and snapped it closed. He glanced towards the mirror, seeing his own haggard and stubbled face, eyes bleary from too much alcohol and too little sleep. He turned towards the mirror, staring at himself.

Just what the hell do you see when you look at me, Jason? he thought. Why am I such a monster to you?

Feedback

Did you like this story? Hate it? Printed it and lined the birdcage with it?

Please take a moment to send me some comments about this story. Your comments may remain anonymous if you prefer, or you can include an email address in your comments if you wish a reply.

Since this is a multi-part story, you may wait until the last chapter to send feedback about the story as a whole if you wish.