Into the Shadows:
The Coming Dark (c)
Chapter Fourteen
By Fiction Writer #13
(para)

"Uhg... it never ends," Mary grumbled to herself as she added the 
wet towel to yet another load of laundry.

Her day had been a busy one, despite her distracting daydreams.  
She'd managed to clear out half the remaining boxes from the foyer, 
one of which contained her favorite pair of flannel pajamas which 
were currently tumbling in the dryer.  They didn't need to be dried, 
she just wanted them to be toasty.  Warming them this way was a 
special treat she offered herself from time to time, and she couldn't 
wait to feel them against her skin.  She hadn't planned on starting 
another load, but since she was down there to prepare her PJs she 
decided not to put it off until the morning.

She had just finished separating whites from darks when the dryer 
buzzed.  After a quick glance around the utility room to make sure no 
one was around, she quickly stripped out of her day clothes and 
added them to the growing load of wash.  Standing in nothing but her 
bra and panties raised goose flesh over her skin.  The air in the 
finished basement always had a chill to it, even during warmer days, 
but today was especially numbing.  The steady rain had changed 
over to driving sleet which ticked against the tiny window located high 
on the wall over her head.

The dryer door opened with a squeak and hot moist air wafted out, 
temporarily driving away the tiny bumps that pimpled her exposed 
belly and chest.  Inside she found her reward for getting so much 
done during the day, and hummed a contented sigh as the fuzzy 
fabric warmed her hands.  The pants were on in an instant, the top 
taking slightly longer due to the number of buttons needed to 
enclose her torso.

She closed her eyes and luxuriated over the fresh scent and comfort 
surrounding her.  It reminded her of how she'd felt the morning prior, 
when the sun seemed to energize her and fill her with warmth 
despite the lack of heat in the room.  It had been a magical moment, 
one that brought tears of happiness to her eyes, but the feeling had 
faded as the day went on, and been extinguished by the horror of her 
son's hockey game.

A shudder ran through her as the images of bloody fists and broken 
faces returned from a place that somehow seemed to have been 
locked away for years though only a day had transpired.  They 
clawed and pulled her thoughts away from the warmth around her, 
dragged her down as if her feet were set in a concrete block sinking 
into a deep body of cold water.

'She told me to.'  That's what he'd said after it was over.  'She told 
me to.'

Mary wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging herself tight, 
trying to bring back the warmth.  Her thoughts drifted in circles.  One 
moment she was reliving the tale Bethany spun and how it set fires 
burning inside of her, how she felt consumed by need and want, and 
then she was in her husband's embrace, his shaft driving into her 
body, and lights were dancing in the air around them.  She had been 
filled with love, surrounded by peace, so much so that she'd thought 
she'd felt the presence of God in the room with her.  The lights were 
driven away by darkness as quickly as they manifested within her 
mind, replaced by the desire to once again feel the tightness of her 
daughter's sex around her fingers, to feel the heat and slippery 
texture of her insides as the little girl squirmed and moaned in her 
lap.  Oh how she wanted to pull her tiny mouth off of her husband's 
throbbing cock and shove the bitch's face into her own sopping cunt.

Again and again her daydreams fought for dominance, one of love, 
the other of desire, and neither seeming to win out over the other for 
very long.  She wanted to believe that what she truly wanted was 
love, to feel that warmth and peace again, but the fires within her 
were strong and very persuasive.  They seemed to speak to her in a 
way she could understand, they called to her, urged her to seek them 
out, to explore that side of her that she'd been too afraid to fully 
discover.

Let go, Mary...  Let go and be free... Be free from all that has 
held you back, all that has held you down...

'No... I can't... I can't ever do that again... It was wrong...'

No Mary... What's wrong is that you've denied yourself for so 
long...  It's time for you to start taking care of your own needs, 
your own wants, your own desires...

'No... I can't be like that.  It's selfish, and they need me.' She shook 
her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. 'I can't.  I won't.'

You can... And you will...

"No," she sobbed. "No."

You don't have a choice... You belong to me...

"NO!"

Mary's scream filled the tiny room and echoed in her head as her 
eyes snapped open.  She spun wildly in a circle, expecting to find 
someone else in the utility room with her, but found no one.  In her 
confusion she toppled the laundry basket off the dryer and clothes 
spilled all over the floor.  

"Damn it." She rolled her eyes and squatted to the floor with a groan. 
"What the fuck is wrong with me."

As she picked up the spilled laundry she couldn't stop the tears that 
flowed from her eyes, though the memory of why she was crying 
mysteriously eluded her. "You're losing it, Mary.  Hmm?"

A folded sheet of paper lay in the midst of the dirty clothes.  Normally 
she'd just throw it out, but today she felt like snooping.  Perhaps it 
was a love note written by her son to the lucky Fergusson girl?  Or 
better yet, one written to Tommy from her.  Mary wiped the tears 
from her cheeks and grinned devilishly to herself as she carefully 
opened the note.

"Oh, damn."

It wasn't a love letter, just another one of Bethany's drawings.  
Steven must have forgotten to take it out of his pocket before 
stripping for bed the night before.  Despite her disappointment in not 
getting a chance to pry into her son's private life, the drawing still 
made her smile.  It was a portrait of Beth's new family, all smiles and 
holding hands as a bright yellow sun shone down from above.  
Across the top of the page in red crayon she'd scrawled 'I love my 
Daddy!' which made Mary's heart swell.  Mary was about to carefully 
refold the artwork when something caught her attention.  At the 
bottom right corner Beth had signed her masterpiece, not something 
unusual for her to do, but how she'd signed it caused Mary to raise 
an eyebrow and set her heart thumping.

'Bethany O'Donnell.'

"O'Donnell?"

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

The drive from the inner city to the suburbs was made more tedious 
and treacherous thanks to the horrible weather moving in, but Steven 
barely noticed.  He hadn't noticed when he switched on the radio that 
it was still set to his son's choice from the day before, the volume 
blaring several decibels too high for his normal preference.  He 
found himself singing along with AC/DC as they belted out "Hell's 
Bells", his head bouncing in time with the beat, his fingers drumming 
against the steering wheel, all with a perma-grin plastered to his face 
even as other motorists on the highway began to nervously break 
and shift lanes in the heavy traffic.

The sun was now gone completely, replaced by halogen and sodium 
lights.  Normally in a situation like this Steven joined the majority of 
cautious drivers adding red break lights to the sea of cars, but not 
today.  Today he felt as though he could do no wrong, like he was 
somehow immune to the troubles that dogged everyone else.  
Today he felt invincible, unstoppable, and, as if the universe were in 
agreement, the traffic in his path seemed to move away to let him 
pass.  He made it to the Highland Heights exit in record time, faster 
than he would have on a sunny Sunday morning, and zipped through 
town never hitting a single red light.

"Someone's looking out for me today," he muttered to himself during 
an Eddie Van Halen guitar solo.

Having traversed the town he steadily made his way up the winding 
Hoffer's Road leading to the top of Chestnut Hill.  At the top of the hill 
Hoffer's road passed through an entranceway into the Chestnut Hill 
Development Community.  There were a dozen homes up here, but 
enough land separated them that you rarely, if ever, saw your 
neighbors.

Steve had lived practically his entire life in Highland Heights, but until 
he moved into the new house, he'd never been up here before.  
There was no need to.  There were no shops, no restaurants, no 
businesses of any kind here.  Even as a kid he had no desire to 
climb this particular hill since others offered better sledding in winter, 
and when he was older, better nooks to party at.  The funny thing 
was, once he finally saw how beautiful it was on Chestnut Hill, he 
couldn't believe he hadn't come up here sooner.  They'd closed on 
the house this past summer when the entire forest was green and full 
of wildlife, moved in during the peek of autumn when the leaves 
seemed to glow from within with gold, orange, and red, and if the 
disk jockey on the radio was accurate, he would be waking up to a 
winter wonderland as a fresh blanket of snow covered the land and 
ice glistened on the bare trees.

A single street lamp marked the turnoff onto Klemm Avenue.  Had it 
not been for that marker the tiny road would have otherwise been lost 
to the surrounding woods.  Klemm stretched away from the main 
road until it reached the edge of the hill where, after a short stretch, it 
circled back to rejoin Hoffer's.  According to the settlement papers, 
the Johnson's were the proud owners of all the land contained within 
that loop of road.

For a brief moment as he pulled into the three-story home's 
driveway, he dreaded the thought of leaving the shelter of the car to 
make the mad dash through the falling sleet to the front door, but 
then he remembered he no longer had to run that awful gauntlet 
anymore.  That was the old house; the new one had a garage.  
Smiling to himself he activated the automatic door and slowly crept 
the vehicle beside his wife's minivan.

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

"My dad's home." Tom let the blind fall back into place after peering 
out the window. "We'd better at least look like we're working in case 
he decides to come up."

"No prob." Justin shrugged as he logged out of his World of 
Warcraft account. "But I get first dibs later on."

"I think we might be a little busy later on.  I've been going over what 
we need to get done for this project, and I think it might be an all 
nighter for us."

Justin spun the computer chair around, a huge shit-eating grin on his 
face. "Do me a favor and get that folder from my inside coat pocket."

"What's in the folder?"

"Naked pics of your mom.  Just do it, alright?"

"Whatever." Tom rolled off the bed and pulled the heavy coat from 
the floor. "What's this?"

"That," Justin pointed triumphantly toward the mess of papers 
stapled together in Tom's hand, "is our science project."

Tom eyed the pages disbelievingly. "Really?"

"Really." Justin spun back around in the chair and logged back into 
the game. "I did it all yesterday while you were having roid rage at the 
hockey game.  You just need to retype it on the 'puter, copy pasta 
some pics, spell check, and print that mo-fo and we're golden."

"Dude, that's awesome."

"No, I'm awesome.  And don't ever forget it."

"Okay, okay...  I bow down to you oh mighty bringer of the science 
project."

"Damn straight."

"But, if you already did this, then why'd you insist on coming here?  
You could have just passed it off and I could have brought it to 
school tomorrow."

"Well," Justin hacked away at a digital monster with an axe, "with you 
living all the way out in East Bumblefuck we hardly ever get a chance 
to hang."

"Yeah, that's true." Tom leafed through the hand scribbled papers, 
trying to decipher his friend's penmanship. "The thing is, some 
strange shit is happening here, I can't really talk about it, but it's not 
really a good time to hang out."

"So what, you kicking me out?  Get what you want and throw poor 'ol 
Justin out into the cold snowy night?"

Tom laughed. "No."

"Then what?  What's so weird that you can't talk to me about it?"

"Nothing.  Just some... family stuff."

"Oh." Justin nodded his head. "Say no more, I know all about family 
stuff.  If you think I should go, no problem.  I'll just call my dad for a 
ride..."

"Nah, dude.  It should be cool.  Just... if things get, um, weird..."

"No worries.  Now, stop acting like a bitch and tell me where I'm 
supposed to go to complete this quest."

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

"Hello?  Anyone home?"

Steve walked through the empty house, surprised by the amount of 
quiet.  It was never this quiet, this still, and for a heartbeat he feared 
the worse.

"Hi Daddy."

"Ooh, Beth... you nearly gave me a heart attack."

Beth had come into the kitchen behind him, silently climbing the 
carpeted steps that lead down into the basement.  She offered him 
the tiniest of smiles before reapplying her pout.

"Where is everybody, and why so glum, pumpkin?"

"I'm bored," Beth sighed after giving him a soft hug. "I went to see if 
Mom wanted to do something, but she's too busy doing laundry, and 
Tommy's too busy being a big jerk to play with me."

"Now, that's not a nice thing to say about your brother.  Where is 
he?"

"He's up in his room with Justin looking at dirty movies on the 
computer."

"Is he now?" Steve had to stop himself from chuckling and put on his 
serious face.

"Yuh huh."

"Well, I'll go have a talk with him about that later.  Right now I need to 
tell your mother something."

"Okey dokey." Beth seemed very pleased that he'd be giving 
Tommy a talking to. "Mom's still down there."

"Thanks sweetie."

Steve kissed the top of her head before heading for the stairs, but 
Beth stopped him short.

"Do you think you could play with me?" She batted her eyes lashes. 
"After you speak with Mommy?"

Steve grinned. "Sure thing, pumpkin, but maybe not until after dinner.  
Your mom and I have a lot to discuss."

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

'She told him she couldn't tell him, that He wouldn't allow her to, but 
she found a way.  Our little girl found a way.'

Mary gripped the child's drawing tightly, afraid that if she let it go it 
would vanish before her eyes.  She'd been searching for answers 
but came up with only more questions, but now she had something 
more to go on, a new lead to chase down.

'The drawings.  Maybe He can't stop her from telling the truth in her 
drawings.'

It was a long shot, but if her theory proved true...

"Guess who?"

Hands covered her eyes.

"JESUS!" she screamed, and the paper slipped from her hand.

"Not quite, but you're close." Steven chuckled at his wife's reaction.

"Damn it, Steven!" She shoved his hands away and glared at him, 
her face red with anger and her heart slamming in her chest. "Not 
funny!"

"Aww, I'm sorry.  Come give me a hug."

"Fuck you." She retreated from him and went back to picking up the 
spilled laundry. "Do you have any idea what I've been going through 
today?"

"Oh come on." Steve knelt behind her hunched body and began to 
tenderly rub her shoulders. "I was just having a little fun."

"Not today." She slowed her rapid clothes folding. "I'm not in the 
mood."

"I'm sorry, baby.  I didn't mean to scare you like that." Steve worked 
her muscles harder. "Wow, you're really tense."

"You should be too.  Or did you forget about what's been going on 
here?"

"No, I haven't forgotten."

But the truth was, he had, at least for a little while.  He'd been so 
wrapped up in his own day's craziness the events of the previous 
day seemed insignificant.

"I... I had a bit of a trying day myself."

Steve pulled his hands from her shoulders and showed her his 
bloodied and bruised knuckles.

"My god," she whispered as she gently took hold and examined his 
wounds, laying tiny kisses upon each one. "What happened?"

"I had a little altercation today at work."

"You got in a fist fight?  At work?"

He nodded guiltily.

"With who?"

"You remember Brice Parker?"

"No."

"From the Christmas party?"

Mary stopped kissing his hand. "That asshole who kept hitting on me 
whenever you left my sight?"

"That's the one." Steve grinned as she frowned at the memory. "He 
was drunk and running his mouth.  Said a lot of things he shouldn't 
have, so I shut him up."

"Must have been pretty awful to get you riled up enough to take a 
swing."

"It was, and for the record... I took more than one swing at the son of 
a bitch.  James and Mike had to pull me off of him."

"My big, strong, manly man." She giggled softly. "So, what did he 
say?"

"He asked me if I'd had sex with Bethany.  Can you believe that?  
Who asks someone something like that?  I should have killed him."

Mary tensed up again after hearing his reason. "Why... why would he 
ask you that?"

"I don't know, the guy's a real ass."

"Are you sure..." Her blood went icy cold. "Are you sure he doesn't 
know something?"

"What?" Steve was thoroughly confused for a moment, but then the 
gravity of what she was asking sunk in. "No.  Not a chance.  He was 
just running his mouth, trying to provoke me.  Like I said, the guy's an 
asshole and he was pissed that he was passed over for that 
promotion."

Silence filled the laundry room, neither of them wanting to say what 
they were both thinking, that the timing of that particular question 
posed by Brice hit a little too close to home.

Mary shuddered. "What we did last night, with Bethany... We can't 
ever do that again."

"I know."

"Promise me, Steven.  Not ever again, no matter what."

"I... of course."

"Everything's so screwed up, my head is all... I don't know what's 
going on with me, with us." She trembled. "We should have talked 
about this last night.  It should have been the first thing we said to 
each other.  But it wasn't.  Why?  Why didn't we?"

"I don't know, Honey.  We were all keyed up, you know, so much had 
happened so quickly, we must have just... made a silent agreement 
or something."

"No, Steven, we didn't.  It didn't even come up.  All we did was admit 
to each other that we'd thought about doing it, then we consoled 
ourselves.  That's it.  We never discussed not doing it again.  But we 
can't, we can't let it happen again."

"You're right." Steve kissed the top of his wife's head. "I don't know 
why we didn't talk about this last night, but you're right."

"Thank you."

Steve went back to massaging her neck and shoulders. "You're 
really upset, and I don't think it's all about last night, or what 
happened between me and Brice.  Something happen today?"

Mary paused for a moment before nodding.

"Feel like talking about it?"

She shook her head. "Not really.  It's... it's stupid."

"Come on, tell me." Steve rubbed harder, eliciting a soft sigh from 
his wife.

"I... I keep having daydreams."

"Is that all?"

Again she shook her head. "They're... they're vivid, frighteningly 
vivid.  And sexual."

"Oh, do tell," Steve snickered.

"Stop it, I'm being serious.  They're disturbing."

"Now I'm really curious."

Mary released her husband's hand. "If you're going to be an ass 
about it, I'm not going to tell you."

"Please?"

"No."

Steve could hear the anger in her voice and decided against 
pressing any further.  Instead he changed the subject. "Well, I have 
some good news, if you're not too pissed at me to hear it?"

Mary closed her eyes and relaxed under her husband's expert 
massage skills. "Good news?"

"Uh huh.  Well, maybe it is, I still have to go over all the details."

Mary contentedly hummed to herself as Steve's hands moved from 
her shoulders to her back. "So, what is it?"

"Well, I guess you could say it's another promotion."

"What?" Mary was on her feet and facing her husband in an instant, 
her excitement clearly showing by her beaming smile. "Another 
promotion?  Really?  Oh Steven, that's wonderful!"

Steve was barely standing when she threw her arms around him and 
hugged him tight.

"Wait, it gets better."

"How could it get any better?" She backed off a little but kept her 
arms locked around his neck in a loose hug.

"Well, um..." Steve fought to find the words.  Truth was, none of it 
made any sense to him, so how could he possibly explain it?

"Mr. Broddick called me into his office today and... well... that 
promotion comes along with a brand new job.  I'll be using the 
executive elevator from now on."

The look on his wife's face was one of equal parts disbelief and 
absolute joy.  Her lips moved as if she was going to say something, 
but nothing would come out.  Her eyes darted about his face, 
searching for any sign that he was bluffing, her ears straining for the 
moment when he would tell her he was just kidding, that it was all just 
another bad joke at her expense, but it didn't come.  He just stood 
there grinning like an idiot, waiting for her to say something, anything.

"You're... you're not joking, are you?" Her voice trembled with 
uncertainty and hope.

"No honey, I'm not."

Her eyes began to well up with tears.

"They sent the details about the new position to my email, but I 
haven't had a chance to..."

She silenced him with a kiss. "I'm so proud of you.  I knew that one 
day they'd see just how wonderful you are."

Steve reluctantly pulled away from her lips. "It's not finalized yet, 
there's a lot to go over, but he gave me the rest of the week off so I 
could make up my mind."

"We should go tell the kids."

"I don't know, hon.  I think we should make sure that this isn't bullshit 
first." Mary scrunched her face up in confusion. "Why would they 
offer you a job if it was bullshit?"

"Well... it... it's just too good to be true."

"Why's that, baby?"

"Brice."

"You think they're going to take away the offer because you got in a 
fight?"

"No, Broddick offered the job after the fight." He half laughed. 
"Broddick offered me the job because of the fight, actually.  The 
thing is, Brice is Broddick's nephew.  I can't help but think that this is 
somehow a bribe so I don't sue the company.  But even that doesn't 
make sense, because what he's offering is worth so much more than 
what I'd get in court."

"What are they offering?"

He paused briefly. "Half the company."

Mary stared at him once again, her eyes blinking rapidly. "Really?"

"Really."

"If this is real, if this is really-really real..." A hungry smile appeared 
on her lips. "Then I know somebody who's getting his Christmas 
present a little early."

"Mmm..." Steve grinned as his wife gyrated her hips against him. 
"Can I open it now?"

Far above the sound of the doorbell chimed.  The embracing couple 
looked toward the drop-ceiling as if they could somehow see through 
it.

"Damn." Mary reluctantly let go. "I ordered dinner, that must be the 
delivery guy."

"You finish up here, I'll go take care of it."

"Okay." Mary offered up one more kiss before kneeling to the pile of 
remaining laundry strewn about the floor. "Don't forget to tip this time.  
There aren't a lot of places willing to drive all the way out here, and I 
don't want to piss off another one."

'One time.  One time I forget to tip the pizza guy and I'm never going 
to live it down.' Steve shook his head as he left the utility room, 
crossed the den and headed up the stairs. 'It was shitty pizza 
anyway.'

As Steve entered the kitchen Beth's voice rang out from the foyer.

"Daddy, someone's at the door for you."

'Who the hell could that be?'



Continued in Chapter Fifteen....


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The Coming Dark 14