Friday, 31 October 2014

Her Bad Boy (Chapter 18)

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Her Bad Boy
How does a girl cope when her twin flame is the definitive bad boy? (18+ Erotica)

Chapter 17 | Chapter 18: Allhallowtide

When the sounds started up again, this time Kevin knew where they were coming from.

Thud-thud-thud.

He looked up at the ceiling. “Does this house have an attic?” he whispered to Daisy.

She nodded, motioning to the end of the corridor. “You turn right at the bathroom door,” she whispered back. “There’s a cubby-hole at the end. Its hatch is above that.”

“Does it need a ladder?”

She shook her head. “It’s electric. A switch on the wall opens the door and its ladder slides down. But please be careful.”

He made a movement to go, but she held him back with a concerned stare. “It’s okay,” he tried to grin at her. “Could just be rats.”

Thud-thud-thud.

They both knew the sounds were too regulated to be rats. It was being made by someone.

Or something.

Kevin could feel the back of his neck rise with goosebumps, his body hairs bristled. He slowed his breath, and steeled his skin. He took a long step forward, and a calmness entered his limbs, like the one before a storm poised to strike.

Thud-thud-thud.

What could be making that noise? It sounded as though it were calling him. Kevin knew it was nonsense, but somehow he just couldn’t shake the feeling. He felt a strange pull, like with the writing on Iain’s bedroom wall.

The dark is coming.

Suddenly images of the horrors visited upon his team in Afghanistan flashed through his mind, sapping his concentration.

We arrived at camp only to be greeted by a bloodbath... It looked like some sick orgy gone wrong.

He tried to focus, but the images were strong. He could almost smell the blood, and the putrid stench of death having stayed too long. It was so strong he could almost taste it.

Mutilated bodies everywhere, torn limbs sticking out of gouged orifices, perverted positions captured in rigor mortis... and the poor children. God knows which village they had raided.

Teeth gritted, his hands seemed to curl up into balls of fists on their own.

And the blood... so much blood... and the smell...

Thud-thud-thud.

He had reached the bathroom door. The sounds, even louder now, brought him back fast into the moment. Turning the corner, he realised that the sounds reminded him of something. What was it? He couldn’t quite place the memory. But a vision of Hans crawled out from the darkest vistas of his mind. Hans after he had discovered the relic. Sitting on his bunk bed. Knife in hand, blade diving down, driven into skin.

He kept his eye on the knife’s blade, saw tiny slivers of his barracks buddy’s flesh caught in its perforated teeth, where it had torn the tattooed skin. “You drunk? What the fuck are you doing?”

“Writing.” His voice was in the single tone of an automaton or like a sleepwalker you saw in the movies. Words unnaturally blunted and truncated into single syllables. The voice eerily devoid of any feeling.

“Writing? Writing what for fuck’s sake?”

“His name.” Thud-thud-thud
.

Now he remembered, and it was as if time stood still and paused Kevin along with it. Hans’ twitching foot, the leg rhythmically hitting the edge of the bunk as he slashed a strange pictogram into the taunt flesh of his own stomach.

“Whose name?”

“His.” Thud. “The one who will come to extinguish the flame.” Thud. “All flames. None will be twinned again.” Thud. “As flame no longer twins with flame, then shall the darkness come.”

“You’re not making sense, man.”


None of this made any sense. Hans was dead and buried. There was no way in hell Hans was up in the attic.

Thud-thud-thud.

But something was and he had to find out what. He moved closer to the cubby-hole, bathing himself in the dusky embrace of shadows cast by the shelves decorating its space and the items adorned there. Children’s books neatly lined its rows, a few toys, crayons, boxed puzzle sets. It was obvious this was a favourite spot for Iain to spend his time.

Thud-thud-thud.

He was about to look up when he saw movement out of the corner of his left eye. Daisy. He raised an open palm to stop her where she stood, but wasn’t surprised to have it ignored. She ran the last few steps to him, whispering, “Well?”

He gave her a look of exasperation. “Well what?”

“Where’s that noise coming from?”

As if on cue, the sounds called out in their regular patterned thud. He pointed above their heads to the square hatch door.

“Well, that’s the switch to it over there,” she said, the syllables snagging at the back of her throat. “Turn it to the right. The ladder has a cushioned release to slide down slowly.”

He saw the switch. A silver dial-like button situated on the opposite end of the cubby-hole, at a height that placed it out of a child’s reach. He inched closer, and turned the dial clockwise.

They watched and waited as the hatch lid flipped down on its hinges with a buzz, activating the ladder to open.

Seconds into its motion, a large black shape loomed out of the mouth of the hatch and descended upon them. Daisy screamed, but Kevin had reacted a split second before, grabbing and moving her out of harm’s way.

Thud-thud-thud.

A colourful papier-mâché piñata in the shape of a carved pumpkin, its rope snagged on the ladder, swung mournfully, hitting the wall.

“So that’s our intruder,” he grunted, loosening his grip on her waist. “How foolish do I feel right now.”

Laughing with relief, she said, “We made that as a surprise for Iain, and hid it up there. Something new to do for Halloween. I’d forgotten about it. Must have come loose somehow.”

He grinned to see her laugh. “Well all’s well that ends well.”

“My hero, saving me from a stuffed paper pumpkin!”

They both laughed this time, with a mixture of embarrassment and relief, just as the police sirens made their presence known outside.

Erotica divider
Nearly two weeks had passed since Iain had opened his eyes in that hospital room, Sally had to remind herself as she watched Stephen and Kevin with her young brother traipsing around the fairground. His recovery had been quicker than anyone had expected. Doctor Merryweather called it a bloody miracle, but Sally was just grateful that her prayers had been answered, and she had her brother back none the worse for wear.

In fact he had become more communicative and extrovert, ever since his speedy discharge from the hospital, especially with Stephen. It was the only reason she relented to let the boys take him out for Halloween, she decided, smiling at their superhero costumes, and trying not to think how gorgeous Stephen’s bum looked in black tights.

“Penny for them?”

Sally quickly untied herself from her thoughts, and smiled at Daisy, who winked back at her, saying, “Although it’s obvious. The boys fill out their costumes very well, don’t you think?”

“What I think is that it’s still too early for Iain to be up and about.”

“No way! Look at him with the boys, and besides it’s the last night of the fair before it moves on.”

Daisy was right. Halloween was the travelling fairground’s final night, and it had decorated its rides in celebration of all things spooky. Cotton-ball cobwebs, talcum powder dust, slimy green fluorescent skeletons and animated pumpkins and broomsticks hung from every inconceivable nook and cranny. The fairground music was interspersed with ghoulish howls and witch-like cackles, while in the distance fireworks popped open in a blaze of glory in the inky obsidian sky.

“Sometimes I think it’s too good to be true, Daisy. I mean look at him, he didn’t even want to wear a coat.”

“That’s natural for a boy, and it’s warm out anyhow.”

Sally nodded. October was going out the warmest she ever remembered it. It felt more like an early spring evening than the middle of autumn. But despite the warmth, and bright, dizzying lights of the fair, shadows still loomed. “Do you think we’ll ever find out what happened for certain?”

“Best not to think about it. At least for one night.”

But all Sally did was think about it. So many things were left unresolved, whilst others had been resolved in the most unexpected ways. Her neighbour’s daughter had been found safe and sound a few hours after Daisy and Kevin informed the police of the ominously cryptic message left scrawled on Iain’s bedroom wall, and how Iain had come to be home alone in the first place.

The neighbour’s girl had decided to skip the babysitting appointment after her boyfriend persuaded her to spend the night camping, and didn’t bother to inform her mother, who disapproved of the boy and would likely have refused permission for her to go with him. But with an innocent explanation for her disappearance, they were still no nearer to the truth of who hurt Iain, or wrote the message. As her brother had no recollection of that night’s events, the local police authorities were more than willing to chalk it up as self-inflicted, and not press charges this time.

However, Sally didn’t buy for a second that Iain’s fall was as result of an autistic boy’s hyper-fear of being left alone in the dark. Official channels might believe her brother violently injured himself out of some delusional night-time paranoia, but the handwriting on the wall wasn’t going to be so easy to explain away. Someone else had broken the police cordon hours later to do that, and the hand that wrote the message and the owner of the blood used to ink it were still unknown. The authorities would only confirm that forensics had said it was blood, but could not say for certain whether it was human blood.

“Hey, I said don’t think about it.”

“I can’t help it.”

Daisy sighed, and there was more than an ounce of guilt weighted in its sound. Her voice came out hoarse with emotion. “I only wish I could go back and change things. I will never forgive myself.”

“Stop right there. People make mistakes Daisy. The main thing is that he’s okay, and that’s because you found him in time. Think on that.”

“But it was such a stupid thing to do. I don’t know what came over me.”

“At least you owned up to it. Most wouldn’t have.” There are secrets I’m keeping from you that I can’t own up to just yet. Too guilty, too much of a coward to tell you things you have a right to know.

Daisy took her hand, gripping it warmly. “I can’t take the credit for that. It was his doing.”

Sally looked across at the boys. “Kevin’s?”

Daisy nodded.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Sally smiled. “Not really, it’s just I know you a bit better than the rest.”

“You know me better than anyone, that’s why I don’t get it...”

“Get what exactly?”

“Why you don’t give up on me. I get on everyone’s nerves, I know it. Even that fortune teller kicked me out of her tent. Sooner or later everyone gets tired of Daisy, except you. You came home to find me sitting on top of Stephen - not doing the dirty granted - but still here you are. When will you tire of forgiving me?”

She wanted to say, I forgive you in the hope that when the day comes, you’ll forgive me, too, but instead said, “Why did you do it, Daisy? You know how much he means to me.”

“I thought he wasn’t good for you. I’m still not really sure he won’t hurt you.”

“Allow me to make that decision for myself. Okay?”

“It’s a deal sister. He’s good with kids at any rate. I can’t fault how good he is with Iain.”

As Daisy spoke, Sally watched at how patient Stephen was with Iain, as they experienced all the sights and sounds of the fair. And she knew she was sure she loved him. Loved him without knowing how, or when, or from where. She loved him because she knew no other way. She laughed at her old self, the one who had stood on this same spot weeks ago thinking she could forget him.

The impossibility of forgetting someone you loved like that dawned on her. It was like trying to remember someone you’d never met, she thought. You couldn’t erase love like that, or break it up, because it wasn’t written on paper or etched in stone. Love like that inscribed itself in your heart, and there it remained forever.

And if the best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes you reach for more, and plants a fire in the heart, then that’s what you’ve given me, Stephen. That’s what you’ve given me forever. I love you.

Stephen looked back at her then, as though he had heard her thoughts across the distance, and gave her a smile which still made her heart skip its beat, and she doubted that would ever change.

“What about love, Daisy?”

“What about it, sweetheart? If you leave everything to love to hold together, you can forget it. Love comes and goes with the air, changing minute by minute.”

“What about our friendship? About my love for Iain?”

“That’s different.”

“Is it? Really? What about Kevin? Won’t you give him a chance? If you have feelings for him, tell him. Forget about the rules or the fear of looking ridiculous. What is truly ridiculous is passing up on an opportunity to tell him your heart is invested in him.”

Daisy screwed her face up in pain. “Don’t you think I want a normal life to share with someone? But I’m a bitch. I don’t know why I am. It just happened. I’m just done. My life’s all completely messed up, and I don’t know what to do about it. Frightened I can’t change, I suppose, that I won’t fuck it up.”

“You can be married to anybody, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re gorgeous. Men fall over backwards just to take a look at you.”

“The good time girl, that’s me. Anyone else would say that with malice, or at least a hint of jealousy. Not you. You really mean it.”

“Of course I do, Daisy. With all my heart.”

Daisy’s eyes glistened. “You look so beautiful, standing there. Like some administrating angel. I wish I could be peaceful and good like you. I envy Iain sometimes... I wish you were my real sister.”

Sally looked away, all of a sudden wanting to change the subject. There are secrets I’m keeping from you that I can’t own up to just yet. Too guilty, too much of a coward to tell you things you have a right to know.

“You okay, Sally. Did I say something wrong?”

“Of course not. I just had an idea...” Scanning the fairground she spied Madame Rosario’s tent, and called out to Stephen to let him know her plan as she pulled Daisy along with her. “Come on, let’s say goodbye to Madame Rosario.”

“What? You must be kidding? She won’t let me in her tent after last time,” Daisy protested as they neared its entrance.

“You let me be the judge of that lass,” came a muffled retort from inside the tent. They giggled involuntarily, like two schoolgirls caught out, and lifted the flaps to enter. Last time they were here, Sally reminisced as they walked through the opening, it had been Daisy pulling them in. Now it was Sally, but the scene that greeted them was the same.

Draped in multicoloured fabrics, Madame Rosario stared intently at the glass ball in front of her. She shifted her large frame in her star sequinned chair, which creaked in complaint, as she raised a hand without looking up to motion them closer. The tent shook, rattling the glass ornaments hanging from its ceiling. This time there were glittered golden crescent and star cut-outs hanging alongside the transparent trinkets swaying from its roof. The Halloween touch, Sally noted as they sat down in the empty chairs opposite Madame Rosario.

Nobody knew the future. That was what Sally had been thinking back then, knowing the only law that governed the future was the law of irony. What you expected to happen rarely ever did. And in that she had been right. Never in all her wildest dreams could she have imagined the things that had happened to her since she was last in this tent. She felt a different person. Even Daisy was different.

“I want to apologise for my behaviour last time I was in here-” Daisy began, but Madame Rosario cut her off with a beaming smile and a quick pat on the hand.

“No need, my dearie. I can see you are not the person you were... or rather you’re becoming the person you are really meant to be.”

“Er... Thanks... I think?”

Sally nudged her. “Don’t knock it. That’s high praise coming from Molly- Madame Rosario.”

Daisy gave her a questioning, sideways glance.“Molly? When did you two get so chummy to be on a first name basis?”

“I told you she visited me at the hospital-” Or I think she did? Now, sitting here, she wasn’t so sure after all. Had Sally just dreamt her visit? Stephen and her both? She remembered how she had intended to return the coffee flask, but it had vanished that same day.

“Girls,” Madame Rosario interjected, “my time is limited, and before we say our goodbyes, I want you both to raise your right palms for my final reading. Then the rest is up to you. I have done what I can, and I must go.”

The seriousness of her tone quietened the girls, and Sally thought she had never seen Daisy remain so still, as she raised her hand in unison with hers.

“In your lines I see the end of things, and the start of things... I see the struggles ahead that face you, and threaten to bury you. For something is coming... be warned both of you. Hold on to what you love. For love does not come and go with the air. Love is the air. As small, and as large. Remember that in times of need. Remember also that in love, the smallest deed may yet yield the largest reward. Your darkest hour may yet be your brightest. And even in death, there can be life.”

Sally shivered. She had not expected talk of death again after having so narrowly pulled her brother back from its jaws. Madame Rosario motioned for them to put down their hands, but Sally, mesmerised by her words, found it difficult respond. The muffled noises from the fairground outside seemed to her to have all but dwindled away, sucked into a vacuum of silence left behind by the fortune teller’s - what was she really? - unexpected tirade.

“Do not fear death, girls. It is timely that tonight is Halloween or All Hallows’ Eve... the initiate to the triduum of Allhallowtide, the seasonal gateway when the veils between the worlds thin out and the dead are honoured,” Madame Rosario’s voice boomed again in Sally’s ears. This wasn’t the image of the sweet-natured lady she had talked to at the hospital, and for a second time she felt afraid.

“There is nothing to fear, for collectively we need to bury what no longer serves life. When we do it in our own lives, we can see more clearly what is dead in the outer world, and open our eyes to love as the only real, living thing. You may think loving something is like taking a hammer to your foundations, but only together can you bring the light, only when you are apart does the dark rise... Make no mistake, the dark is coming, girls, on the tail of a strong wind to extinguish your light, to choke the very system of your souls... but before you can stand against it, you need to clear away the dead and dying, and acknowledge that love is the only paradigm worth creating, living and fighting for.”

Sally stared at Daisy, Daisy looked back at her agape. She said the dark is coming. Could it just be a coincidence, Sally wondered, or did it signify something worse?

She could hardly get the words out. “Please... can you tell me if my brother is in danger?”

“I can say no more. I can do no more. What will be, will be in your hands,” Madame Rosario said, and Sally knew the reading session was over.

End of Chapter 18

Yours in love,

Mickie Kent

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