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Message-ID: <56942asstr$1196478618@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Shalon Wood <dstar@pele.cx>
Subject: {ASSM} Prudence, TX Population 1276 64 (Mff ff Mm rom)
Lines: 313
Date: Fri, 30 Nov 2007 22:10:18 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Standard disclaimers apply; this story may or may not contain, in any
given part, graphic depictions of lesbianism, homosexuality, group sex,
bdsm, underage (teen) sex, magic, occultism, violence, and biting 
sarcasm.  If you're underage, or if for any other reason it's illegal 
for you to read this, or you're disturbed by the content, please don't 
read it.

Archived at http://prudence.pele.cx, and we've got a web-forum at
http://playground.pele.cx/forums as well, for discussion of both
Prudence and our other stories. Send an email to velvet@pele.cx and
I'll add you to the mailing list to be notified when Prudence
updates. 

Comments *greatly* appreciated.

Enjoy,

Velvet
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

To Mark's great surprise, Kristen's trip to the hospital was _not_ the
prize piece of gossip floating around the school. He would have been happy
about that, if it hadn't been for what _had_ taken the number one spot in
every furtive whispering session-- the animal mutilations had resumed, and
with a vengeance.

There had been three of them the night before: a squirrel, a stray cat, and
a calf stolen from one of the local farmers. The favorite rumor was that a
bunch of kids had taken ideas from the old bum who'd died, and were playing
at devil worship. It was a believable enough scenario, and Mark really
wished he _could_ actually believe it. It was much preferable to his
current theory.

Cruel teenagers playing at something stupid and violent would be a much
easier thing to deal with than the spirit of Ryan Barnes possessing one
unbalanced girl. The police could handle idiot teens-- but they'd lock
_him_ up somewhere if he went to them babbling about ghosts, green mist,
and evil spirits. With that in mind, he decided it was time for a family
meeting, of sorts, and arranged for Aaron and Kayla to meet them at 7pm.
Both of them had things they had to do at home, making an earlier meeting
impossible, but Aaron promised to finish his chores as quickly as possible,
and would then give Kayla a ride.

Fortunately, the remodeling company had called and let him know that they
would be finished up and out of the house by noon, so they didn't need to
spend another night at Steven's.

The renovation had turned out well. The new bathroom was absolutely
beautiful, well worth the slight decrease in the size of the bedroom to
accommodate it, especially as the bedroom had also been redone and now used
the space more efficiently. Kristen had happily proclaimed it to be "just
lovely" and had immediately jumped into replacing their toiletries in the
new bathroom, humming contentedly.

As per Mark's request, the basement had been completely finished and
decorated, and a small bathroom had been added. The door at the top of the
stairs had been thoroughly reinforced, as had the frame holding it, and
with the locks and the heavy steel bar on the inside, it would hold off
just about anything the town of Prudence could field to throw at it. One of
the bookcases built into the north wall hid the entrance to the escape
tunnel that let out a couple hundred yards from the house. The tunnel
itself was walled and braced for its entire length, and the exit was even
more cleverly hidden. Paranoid? Maybe, but he'd rather have it and feel
silly than not have it if it proved necessary. The basement door could only
be accessed from the tunnel side via one of ten hidden buttons being held
for at least ten but no more than thirty seconds-- any of the other nine
would set off an alarm and disable the opening mechanism completely. It was
furnished with a small dormitory style refrigerator, a microwave oven, a
small dining table with chairs, a desk, a pair of comfortable couches, and
a large 'guest bed' in one corner. Another bookshelf concealed a safe where
they could keep their more 'questionable' books and tools and anything else
that might get them burned at the stake by the good citizens of Prudence,
Tx.

Mark finished his inspection of the house, then sat down at his desk to get
caught up on his long-neglected grading. He had just enough time to finish
up before Kayla and Aaron were due, if he was lucky. Of course, things
didn't go as he'd planned.

He'd just sat down when there was a knock at the door. Wondering if perhaps
Steven had decided to come see the house now that it was finished-- or
possibly to check on his daughter and use the renovation as a plausible
excuse so that he wouldn't seem overprotective or paranoid-- he set the
papers aside with a rueful smile and went to answer it. It wasn't his
father-in-law who was waiting outside the door, though.

Instead, the sheriff stood there, his creased face set in grim lines that
added years to his age, and Aaron with him. One tanned, weathered hand
rested on the boy's shoulder, and Aaron himself looked terrified. He was
shaking, his shoulders slightly hunched, and his odd hazel eyes huge in a
face that was even paler than normal. It was very obvious that he was only
holding himself together at all by a thin thread.

A thousand different scenarios, all of them bad, flickered through Mark's
mind, and it was all he could do not to reach protectively for his
frightened young lover. Hoping he was letting only a socially acceptable
amount of concern show in his face and voice, he asked, "Is something
wrong, officer?"

"Yessir, Mr. Hasseran, it is. Young Aaron here hasn't got any family in
town, and he can't stay in his house tonight. Definitely not alone. Can he
stay with you until his pa gets back in town?" While the sheriff spoke,
Aaron's eyes were pleading with him, and with him so near, Mark could feel,
through their link, the fear and panic that were threatening to overwhelm
him.

"Of course," Mark said. "What seems to be the problem?"

Sheriff Wilson's lip curled, and he shook his head in disgust. "Some sort
of sick prankster, most likely," he said. "But the boy's house has been
broken into, and I'd definitely call the... damage... a threat."

"What happened?" Mark asked gently, looking into Aaron's frightened eyes.

The boy shivered, but spoke quietly. "I got home and stepped inside, and...
and the place was a wreck. Nothing missing that I could tell, just
destroyed. I turned around to get out of the house-- I didn't know if they
were still there-- and the door was marked with... with blood. Still wet.
On the inside."

A chill went down his spine, and Mark reached for his cellphone. He started
to flip it open himself, but realized in time that doing so would look
slightly suspicious, so held it out to Aaron. "You'd better call Kayla.
Karen made some threats this morning-- and you and Kayla are Kristen's only
friends. It _might_ just be coincidence, but...."

Aaron shook his head. "I called her. First thing. She's okay. There's
_always_ someone at home at her house."

The sheriff spoke up, "We're going over the house now, and we'll stake it
out tonight. I've called Mr. Deveraux, and he's on his way back here. Aaron
said you probably wouldn't mind if he hung out here for a while, maybe the
night, so we came on over here."

"Of course I don't mind," Mark said, shaking his head, then frowned.
"Sheriff, if Karen _is_ behind this, and she knows that Chastity talked to
me... then Chastity could be in danger."

The sheriff ran a hand through his greying hair and shook his head, looking
tired. "We've got the girl in custody, son, and have had since before noon.
There's no way she could have done this."

Mark relaxed just slightly. "Oh, good. Then... I take it talking to her
didn't do the trick?"

"Not even close," the older man answered, with a deep sigh. "We've got
blood tests sent off to the lab, and I wouldn't be surprised at _anything_
we found there. That's one poor kid who really needs some help. Totally
messed up."

"She certainly seemed... unbalanced, this morning," Mark ventured
hesitantly. "How bad off is she?"

"Pretty damned bad. I took her in custody as much to keep her from hurting
_herself_ as anyone else," Sheriff Wilson said, with another tired,
disgusted shake of his head. Then he sighed again. "I'm getting too old for
this. Anyway, I need to get back to my crime scene... you'll look after
Aaron? He's a good kid."

"Of course," Mark said. "Let his dad know where he is?"

"Will do."

***

Aaron stood silently, just inside the door, as they heard the sheriff drive
off. He didn't move towards Mark... or anything else, really. He just stood
there, trembling very slightly, like a string vibrating under tension.

Mark looked at him, considering-- a touch might very well push him over the
edge into total, well-justified, hysterical collapse. It was hard to
remember, sometimes, given how they acted, just how very, very young his
wife and lovers were, but seeing the boy standing there, trying so hard to
hold it together, to be 'mature' and 'brave' and whatever else he thought
Mark expected of him, when he was obviously scared half to death... well,
that was a damned strong reminder. However, as much as Mark wanted to allow
him the moment of weakness he was entitled to, and as much as he wanted--
and intended-- to give the needed comfort and reassurance, there was one
thing that simply had to be done first. Safety came before everything else.
He wanted to keep his young lovers emotionally healthy, but he had to keep
them alive first. So, with carefully measured tones and without allowing
himself to touch so much as one slender, trembling hand, Mark nodded to the
phone. "Call your mama. I think we're gonna need her help here."

The hazel eyes widened even more, but the focus of the horror, at least,
had changed. Aaron stared at the phone as if it had turned into a live,
venomous, and enraged snake, then turned to Mark, aghast. "No way. She'd go
overboard. She'd totally freak." His look quickly became pleading, as he
added, "Dad's on his way. He was at the lab in Dallas, but he's on his
way."

With a reflexive glance out the window, even though he'd already heard the
sheriff's engine fade in the distance, Mark said, quietly, "I think Karen
was possessed. Strike that... I'm _sure_ she was possessed. How much magic
does your dad know?"

Aaron bit his lip. "Not a lot," he admitted. "But what he _does_ know is
defensive, and he's good at it. He was always a target when we lived with
my mother."

He was so earnest, and so very obviously terrified of what his mother might
do or say, that Mark nodded reluctantly. "Okay. Good, then... how much do
_you_ know about breaking things like possession?"

"I... I _know_ quite a bit. but I'm not good at it," the boy said
cautiously.

"But you could teach Kayla?"

"Um. Yeah, probably, but, see... the way you practice is, you find
something that wants to possess you, and you let it try."

"Oh!" Mark blinked, surprised-- he'd never considered Aaron might take it
that way. The fact that the boy apparently thought it was a perfectly
normal thing to be asked to 'practice' made him glad he hadn't insisted on
that phone call, after all, too. The fact that such a thought was
apparently 'normal' enough to have calmed him down considerably made him
more so... though Lorena was still the best source of information they were
likely to find. "I meant breaking it in _other_ people. Like, to get Karen
free. Though I guess we ought to discuss all of this when everyone gets
here. How's Kayla getting here, by the way?"

Aaron dropped his gaze, looking thoroughly embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I... I
didn't even think about taking my car. I was just... just a wreck. I should
have... but the house... things were just _shredded_, like with claws." At
that, Kristen stepped out of the doorway where she'd been quietly watching
and lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving Mark a faintly
disapproving look as she did so.

"It's all right," Mark said gently. "I don't blame you. I'll get Angie to
pick her up. Go on with Kristen, now. It'll be okay." The look the boy gave
him, before letting himself be guided out of the room by Kristen, was
pitifully grateful. He swore under his breath and wondered just how bad it
had been, and how much horror Aaron would hide, ignore, or just accept in
order to try to please him-- and if there was anything he could do to make
him believe that it wasn't what was actually expected, or desired.

One brief phone call later-- mostly consisting of him assuring Angie that
everyone was all right and that he wanted to explain to all of them at
once-- he followed the two teenagers into the kitchen.

Kristen had Aaron seated at the table, a light throw blanket wrapped around
his shoulders and a cup of hot cider in front of him, and was talking
quietly and soothingly when Mark came in, but it didn't seem to be doing
much good. The boy was still shivering, and still looked extremely shaken
and fragile, but he looked up with an odd determination as Mark slid into
the chair beside him. "There was something there," he said softly, almost
apologetically, as if begging Mark to believe him. "Something not just
dark, but evil. There's a difference. I can't explain it, but I know how
it... how it _feels."_

Mark rubbed the boy's back in soft circles, frowning. "Shit. I do not like
the direction this is headed."

"All the other times... it was animals when the houses were marked," Aaron
said. "There wasn't anything I could find, no kind of body. And none of
them were marked on the _inside._ It wasn't like anything I've seen. No
symbols, no circles, no runes, _nothing._ No trappings of any kind of blood
magic I've seen, but I could 'feel' something. It wasn't kids playing
around. It wasn't a game of 'scare the fag'. There was something _there,_ I
swear it."

"Shhh... I believe you. It's okay. Honestly, Aaron... your dad's going to
have to be gone fairly often, isn't he?"

"Yeah?" The boy looked puzzled at first, then slightly defensive. "He can't
help it. It's his job."

Mark nodded, staring vaguely off into space for a moment, then looked back
at the worried hazel eyes and smiled, trying to make it reassuring. "I
know. Would he agree to letting you stay here whenever he's out of town,
though?"

"Um... yeah, probably." Aaron hesitated a moment and bit his lip before
going on, "But if I did, if I asked, he'd _know._ He's not stupid."

"How would he react?"

"He... well... I _think_ he'd be okay," Aaron said hesitantly. "I really
do. But I can't be _sure,_ not totally. I think he'd understand. He... he
should. But I can't promise."

"Most fathers aren't like mine, Mark," Kristen said worriedly.

"My father is," he said, before Mark could answer her. "Sort of, anyway. In
a lot of ways. But he doesn't always react like I think he will, and
after... after the... the house... he'll be scared."

Mark sighed. "We may have to take the risk, Aaron. I don't want to,
honestly, but I don't want to risk your _life_ not to, either."

Aaron looked down at the table, huddling within the blanket. "It's up to
you, sir. I don't want to cause problems for you. Whatever you want."

He meant it, too. Completely. Mark could tell. And, as usual, he didn't
quite know how to react to that. It was just beyond anything he could
remotely understand enough to feel totally comfortable with. He suppressed
another sigh and just slid one arm around the boy, drawing him against his
side as he reached for Kristen's hand with his other.

There was so much he had to learn, about so many things. "Let's see what we
can figure out when we're all together," he said, finally. "Maybe together,
we can find better options."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you like this, you might want to take a look at Strange Love, an
e-zine of sf/fantasy/paranormal erotica. The first issue is on sale
now for $2 at:

http://strangelove.pele.cx

Take a look!

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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