But what was this? Some moments after Jim sat down; Amber's sister entered and chose a seat. And if Jim didn't know any better, it would appear that she developed a recent fascination with him. She removed her jacket; combed her fingers through the side of her long, radiant-red hair and then shook her head ever so slightly before turning to face Jim.
Jim was stunned! What in the world was this woman doing? Her tight blouse and dress slacks revealed that Amber's sister had quite a nice body. She certainly was attractive with her deep-brown eyes and radiant-red hair. And now she flaunted a wave of sexiness towards Jim?
“You've got to be kidding me!” Jim thought to himself. “Was she really just doing that? That had to be my imagination.” Jim speculated that perhaps Amber sent her sister that night as a scout or a messenger. Maybe Amber was desperate for Jim to come back, but hesitant in contacting Jim directly. Being that sisters can be very close; Amber's heart might have been visually and undeniably broken which left her no choice but to disclose to her sister her dark secret. Aware of Amber's sad heartbreak, Amber's sister might have offered to attend the meeting to be the messenger and encourage Jim to come back.
It's funny how men develop such over-swollen egos. Too bad he didn't know the real truth about Amber!
Twenty minutes later, the meeting finally started and the master of ceremonies approached the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen; I want to thank everyone for taking time out of your busy work week and joining us this evening. I'd like to begin the evening by introducing you to someone that we all certainly know; the very talented Mapleview Community High School orchestra teacher, Ms. Ekaterina Lutrova.”
The audience applauded. But then it seemed to prematurely diffuse as Ekaterina stood and faced the podium. Of course applauds always diffuse as a speaker stands before the microphone. But there was something eerie, almost frightening in that moment. Where was Ms. Lutrova? The woman standing before the audience did not look like the Ms. Lutrova that people remembered.
“Good evening!” Ekaterina greeted her audience. “I just want to mention what a joy your young men and women have been to teach this year.”
There was something youthful and beautiful about Ms. Ekaterina; a far cry from the crazy, old woman who usually wore faded, black dresses and appeared to bathe but once a week. What happened to her? Did she recently have cosmetic surgery? Was she receiving some radical hormone therapy?
Ms. Lutrova continued, “In a moment we are going to pass out the forms for instrument lease renewal. But we also want to use this time as an opportunity to discuss the financial state of our Mapleview Community High School orchestra.”
Instead of deathly strands of split gray hair, Ekaterina had a full head of long, beautiful, black hair. It was shiny and healthy; shimmering under the flood of overhead lights. And once old, weathered and wrinkled; Ekaterina now had a smooth, collagen-enriched face with only a few lines to reveal a bit of age. She even dressed like a younger woman.
Her shocking, new appearance was enough to startle even Jim. What was happening to Ekaterina? Was Jim seeing things correctly?
And that's when Amber's sister turned her head towards Jim. Is this why she came, tonight?—to warn Jim that he was in danger. Jim was engaging in an activity with dramatic consequences, and Ekaterina's new appearance was proof. He helped her reach this new state of existence by being tricked into participating in sex magick!
Unfortunately, Jim did not understand this. Instead he interpreted the facial expression from Amber's sister as a desperate call to return to Amber. It's tragic how a man's over-swollen ego can distort some much-needed truth.
Chapter 47
Sex magick was about to finally pay off for Amber. It was Wednesday evening, her scheduled night that week to work late as the acting manager of the Mapleview Department Store. Now 9:37pm, she let the last employees out of the building and then set the alarm so she could lock up.
For being only the middle of the week, Amber was exhausted and couldn't wait to go home. It was as-if some mysterious energy drain was sucking the very life out of her. Maybe it was all those nights of strange, sexual rituals in the attic while desperately pining for Daren. Tonight, however, she only wished to change into her comfy pajamas and slip into bed.
Ah, but wishes are granted in the order they are made. And in recent times there were some serious wishes being made that were driven by strong emotions. What was that little wish that Amber had made; to mysteriously run out of gas and then be rescued by Daren? Well guess what? Shortly upon exiting the parking lot of the Mapleview Department Store, there is block of desolate terrace that isn't well lit at night. It's hidden by a berm on one side with businesses on the other side that shut down early in the evening. For all practical purposes, Amber was hidden and alone. It was in this moment and in this place that her engine abruptly died in the middle of the road.
“No! Come-on! Not now!” Amber pounded her open hand on the steering wheel. But this is how wishing and magick usually works. It's when we no longer want them that our desires come true.
Amber pulled out her cell phone for help. But what was this? There was no battery life! She attempted to boot the device, but the screen displayed the empty battery symbol before going dead. There must have been a loss of signal at some point in the evening which caused the phone to continuously search for a network. This, of course, drains the life of the battery. Now what was Amber going to do?
Just as wished in her little “run out of gas on the road” fantasy, a pair of headlights appeared from behind. It was a red pickup truck that quickly pulled up and parked near Amber's Grand Prix.
Amber sighed. It was Daren. He was the last person Amber wanted to see. Apparently the psycho-obsessed stalker had, once again, siphoned the gas out of her tank to play hero. To make matters worse, on a freezing-cold night, Amber was on a dark terrace stretch of road with no one in sight. Without a cell phone, she would have no choice but to accept Daren's act of heroism.
Amber partially opened her driver side window. With the key in the ignition she still had electric.
“Good evening!” Daren greeted with a smile.
“Hi…” returned Amber.”I'm stalled again…" Just having to answer Daren made her skin crawl.
“Stalled again? What happened?”
“I don't know. Maybe I ran out of gas?”
“Ran out of gas? Are you sure?”
“I think so.”
“It doesn't sound like you are so sure. Why don't let me sit down in the driver's seat? I'll check it out for you.”
What was Amber to do? She had been transported in a new reality framework so that she was now stranded out in the middle of nowhere on a cold, winter night. Daren was the only person to help. Reluctantly, Amber hopped over to the passenger seat and allowed Daren to get in.
He cranked the ignition a few times. “Hmm… It looks like you might be out of gas. But how do we know for sure?” Then he looked over to Amber, “I've got a trick I want to show you.” Daren opened the driver door and stepped back out onto the road.
Amber imperceptibly shook her head in disbelief. What sort of trick was Daren going to show her? Couldn't he just fill the tank up with the siphoned gas so that Amber could go home?
There was a knock at the glass of the passenger window. It was Daren, signaling Amber to come out.
Once again, she had no choice. Amber was under complete control at this moment and reluctantly did as ordered.
Daren stood near the gas tank with what appeared to be a long length of wire. “It's a little invention of mine that I call the tank-snake. Let me show you how it works.” Daren opened the fuel door and unscrewed the gas cap. Then he began to unravel the length of wire while sticking it in the tank. Several minutes passed as Amber stood in the freezing cold and shivering while watching Daren struggle with wire.
“Almost… almost… I think I've got it… Ugh, that's not right.”
Freezing beyond belief; very tired and wishing to just go home
for the night; Amber finally asked with a slight note of irritation, “Can I ask what it is you're trying to do?”
Daren returned a look of surprise. “Well I'm trying to get this wire in your gas tank.”
“Why?”
“Well, once I get it in there I'll be able to see if it's dry. Think of the wire as a dip stick for gasoline.”
Amber had enough! “You know, I'm pretty sure I'm out of gas! Don't you have some in the back of your pickup truck that you can refill in my tank?”
Daren continued to futz with the wire. “No, this time I don't have any gas. If your tank is empty, I'll have to get some for you. Sorry!”
This was unbelievable! What sort of stunt was this psycho-obsessed stalker trying to pull, now? If Amber didn't know any better, Daren was deliberately taking a long time to play with the wire in the gas tank just to watch her shiver in the cold.
“There we go! I reached the bottom!” Daren next pulled the wire out of the tank. When fully removed he exclaimed, “Ah-ha! See that?” He showed the point of the wire to Amber. “Look at that!”
Unfortunately, it was necessary for Amber to play this little game of Daren's. She looked at the wire as Daren ordered and knew his experiment demonstrated an empty gas tank.
“See, the wire is dry. Now if I pulled it out and it was wet with gasoline, this would have meant that you had gas in your tank. But it's not. It's dry. This means your tank is empty. Did you forget to fill your tank?”
Amber returned a dirty look. This little game of Daren's had gone far enough. He was the one who siphoned the gas from her tank. How dare he suggest that Amber was too dimwitted to prevent running out of gas?
But Daren didn't care. He was playing hero for the night and courageously suggested, “Well, I guess we better get some gas for you. Come on, my pickup truck is warm inside.”
Despite how Amber's fingers and toes were numb while shivering from the freezing, February air; the last thing she wanted to do was get into the Daren's pickup truck!
It didn't take long for Daren to realize this. Immediately he argued, “Uh-uh! No way am I leaving you alone on a dark road in the cold. Get in the truck!”
Amber stood motionless. Was this really happening?
“Come-on!” he nearly yelled. “I don't have all night. Let's get you some gasoline.”
And so Amber reluctantly walked over to Daren's pick-up truck and climbed into the passenger side. Just as promised, the inside was toasty warm and felt so good! Maybe this was symbolic of their current relationship. Amber insisted on keeping her distance from Daren and remained in the unbearable cold. But maybe finally surrendering to Daren would prove to feel good—warm in a metaphoric sense.
Daren drove off and head towards Mapleview Road. The ride was mostly silent between the two of them until he passed up a gas station. Why didn't he stop? That's when Amber asked, “Where are you going?”
“I've got three containers of gas back at my place.” answered Daren. “I usually drive around with them, but I left them at home tonight.”
It sounded like a reasonable answer. But then Amber knew Daren had siphoned the gas, nearly a full tank from her car. Why did he bring them back to his house? What did he have in store for his victim while playing hero?
Soon they reached the edge of town and entered the old forested section of Mapleview. This was not good! What woman wants to get into a stranger's vehicle late at night and take a drive into the woods? Of course Amber was only experiencing unreasonable anxiety. Daren, as you certainly know, lives in the historic, wooded section of Mapleview.
Daren slowed down and clicked the blinker to turn onto the half-block driveway.
Amber exclaimed, “You live at the Trivelli house?”
“Yup, the one and only legendary Trivelli house! This is where good-ole Grandpa Trivelli murdered his wife back in the 1830s. But don't worry. The house is clean.”
Now let's step back for a moment and consider what Daren was doing. He was actually taking Amber to his house where Mary lives! You have to admit; Daren possessed an incredibly bold side to him. Either that or he was stupid! What man brings a woman of obsession home where his wife happens to live?
Amber couldn't help but notice that Daren pulled the truck only slightly past the halfway point of the driveway. She understood at that moment that Daren's wife was home. He probably wished not to make Amber's presence known.
“I've got three containers of gas.” began Daren. “Could you help me carry one of them while I carry the other two?”
Amber nodded, “Sure…”
“But you have to be quiet. Try not making any noise, okay?”
Again, Amber nodded. She assumed herself to be safe with Daren's wife in the house.
The two of them slowly walked across the backyard (as-if not to make crunching noises in the frozen snow) and towards a small building that Amber assumed to be a storage shed. At the door, Daren removed the keys from his pocket and unlocked his mausoleum. Inside were two electric space heaters working to ensure that the building was nice and toasty warm.
Both Daren and Amber entered the building. Much to Amber's surprise and concern, Daren closed the door so the two were now alone. It didn't take long for Amber to realize what the building is.
“Is this a mausoleum?”
“Yup! It was a little weekend project.”
“So there's no one dead in here, right?”
Daren paused, “Well, I wouldn't say that. That crypt over there is where the late Mary Trivelli… excuse me… Grandma Trivelli has been put to rest. As for her husband; let's just say that he doesn't belong here.”
Needless to say, Amber wasn't exactly thrilled with standing in a family mausoleum late at night with a deceased occupant. She strongly urged, “Okay, let's get the gas cans and get out of here!”
But Daren had other plans. “Wait! Let me show you my favorite crypt.” He proceeded to unlock the crypt nearest the entry door.
“What the hell are you doing?” Amber had enough for one evening and was falling deeper and deeper into anxiety. She was locked in a mausoleum with her psycho-obsessed stalker, and he was unlocking one of the crypts.
“Don't worry! Relax! This won't hurt one bit.”
Amber had to get out of there! If she could just get past the door and out into the backyard she could scream and wake up Daren's wife. This is what she tried to do while dashing over to the door.
But Daren stopped her. He was bigger, much stronger and had no intention of allowing Amber to escape.
“I'm leaving! Let me go!”
Daren shoved her towards the rear wall. “We're not going anywhere, yet. Let me just show you this.” With the crypt open, he reached inside and pulled out two bottles of beer. Then he handed one to Amber. It was ice cold and probably just the thing that Amber needed.
But Amber put the beer down on the bench. “No! I'm not drinking with you! And let's go! I want to get out of here and get home.”
With his thick and muscular body standing before Amber's, Daren picked up the beer and opened it. Then he handed it back to Amber. “Drink! And sit down!” He forced Amber onto the bench with the ice-cold beer in her hand. And there was worse. Daren immediately sat next to her—not side by side, but straddled so that he faced her and stared at her.
In this moment, Amber shut down. She didn't like Daren, and didn't appreciate being ordered around by him. Now she was trapped with nowhere to go.
“We're not going anywhere.” Daren took a swig of his beer. “This is my little club house, and I guess this is the only way that I can meet a beautiful woman like you for a drink. You put up quite a fight, you know?”
Amber remained motionless, nearly in a catatonic state. Where was her power? Where was her ability to wish for things to come true? Would no one come to Amber's rescue?
Daren took another swig of his beer. “So, I don't know if you've checked your Facebook inbox, but I've been sending you messages. Have you gotten any of them?”
&nbs
p; For the first time in over a minute, Amber turned to face Daren with a bitter expression, enough to cause one to immediately combust. What was Daren thinking? Of course Amber had been receiving the messages! But Amber didn't need to reveal this. It should have gone without saying.
“Oh, I see. You got them, but you weren't going to reply to me. You're one of those types of women.”
Daren removed his coat and then lifted off his sweater so that his thick and bare chest, shoulders and arms were exposed. “Man, it's getting warm in here.” Then he stood up. “I have something for you.” He reached into the open crypt and pulled out a long-stemmed, red rose—the same type of rose that had been left at Amber's door. Bare chested, he carefully approached Amber and held it out. “I left one of these at your door one morning. I assume you got it, but never bothered to thank me.”
Amber remained motionless, holding her unwanted beer with eyes fixed to the floor.
Daren set the rose on Amber's lap. “It would be nice if you thanked me for that; maybe say it was sweet of me.”
In defiance, Amber gently knocked the back of her knuckles against the rose so that it fell to the floor.
Daren didn't care. He simply took Amber's beer and set it on the bench. “Man, it's getting warm in here.” He proceeded to remove Amber's coat while suggesting, “Why don't you take off your coat and stay a while?”
Amber sprung up from her catatonic state. In that moment she had enough strength to pull away from Daren and jump over to the corner. Then she cautioned, “Stop it! Leave me alone! That's enough! I want out of here!” Amber was serious! She was so serious that she now shouted.
Daren simply met her in the corner and nearly tore the coat off. It was thrown on the floor, and then Amber was pushed back over to the bench. “Have a seat, Amber!” Once again, she was forced to sit down. Oh, she tried to stand back up, but Daren was too, damned strong. He made her sit there. Then he handed the beer back to Amber and sat down, facing her.
Sex Magick Page 29
