by David Kempf
Yours Truly,
Dr. Henry David Wells
Chapter 5
Christopher was afraid that he was going to be making a fatal error this evening. He was bluffing, he thought. What if Wells actually expected him to bring Sarah with him tonight? If that was the case, then his career was doomed. If it was some kind of twisted riddle, then he was also in trouble. He could not for the life of him figure out what the hell the professor was talking about with real magic, supernatural masters and finding what was, apparently, a missing, beautiful, young woman. The sum of the whole did not make any sense at all. He did know, however, that he was going to be going to see the home of Dr. Henry David Wells this evening. Did the famous novelist really enjoy his fiction? It seemed positively surreal at times that he was being praised by one of his literary idols in the man’s own academic office! There was a proud part of Christopher that felt superior to his often dim-witted, sports obsessed family. Another part of him almost constantly experienced dreadful and painful feelings of deep inferiority. He was beginning to seriously wonder if he gave too much of himself away in his writing. The insecure college student who wanted to be a vampire? Is that something to share with a literary master? As if that wasn’t enough, he had gotten even sillier. How about the failed amateur film geek who would sell his soul to evil incarnate to win a stupid film competition? He was blushing at his own work already.
Sarah! What the hell was he going to do about her? It wasn’t some great mystery story to tell. They had coffee for an hour and she said she had to go home. Although he sincerely felt that there was something she wasn’t telling him, it was a pretty ordinary meeting. If the professor was serious, then it seemed he was expecting something extraordinary from him and Sarah. The most bizarre part was that Dr. Wells and Sarah were essentially strangers! He certainly didn’t know enough about them to be making the two of them his life’s focus. It didn’t matter that she was a knockout and he was a horror giant. They had crept into his life too fast and furious. Still, he was thrilled to hear such praise about his writing. Praise from Dr. Wells was most flattering. Sometimes he was unsure of his work, but most of the time he was confident and proud. If he could find Sarah, he would be very happy. How could he explain to Wells that he didn’t know anything that Wells himself didn’t already know about the situation? If only Sarah would contact him. Why was he worrying so much about this?
It was just going to be another good time. This could even be the best time of his life – the grand moment when he and his mentor would begin their long and prosperous journey into uncharted fiction. That’s what he was really hoping for. The one thing that kept him going was the hope for the future. A world where wishes and dreams come true could be his. There was still something that was bothering him. Sarah Nolan missed class. She told him when they met that she was sick, that she was coming down with something. He didn’t believe she was really sick at all. Something in her demeanor convinced him she was lying.
Dear Christopher,
I think by now you probably know that being sick was not the real reason I skipped class. If I seemed nervous to you the last time we met, there was a good reason for it. I want to assure you that I’m not some basket case. You see I know much more about Dr. Wells than you do. There is something terrible about him. You might think he’s merely making jokes or that he wants to pull some kind of prank on you. We need to meet in person so I can explain more. I know now that I can trust you. I can’t tell you why just yet. I stole a precious item from the professor. The night you ran into us at the university, he was going to hurt me or maybe even kill me. He knows that I have it. I need your help. Please meet me at nine tonight. I’ll be right behind the H.P. Gaines Funeral Home.
Thank you,
Sarah Nolan
Was he hallucinating? This entire situation bore a striking resemblance to one of his short stories. Sarah was slowly transforming into something else. Here she wanted to meet with him before he found out whatever secrets there were at the professor’s house. He would meet her. There was no question about that. Sarah was almost there – her metamorphosis from pretentious hot girl in class into a fully developed mystery lady was almost complete.
Christopher was very fond of sending and receiving electronic mail. It was a fantastic way to keep in touch with people who meant a lot to him and who had moved over the years. The other benefit was that it could be done any time, night or day, without disturbing anyone, unlike with a late night phone call. This was getting ridiculous. In the last several hours, he had received the two most intriguing e-mails of his life from two people who are damn near strangers. He had no idea what was coming next. The misadventures these two had in mind for him could be mind-blowing. This girl who slept with her professor was now claiming he was a dangerous lunatic or, worse yet…some sort of fiend. Would his life force vanish without this mysterious item Sarah stole? Did the professor really have some kind of mystic powers? It would be ironic, he thought, if all his skepticism about the supernatural turned out to be false. Then he and Sarah could fight each other to the death over who would transform into a bat and become Wells’ protégé. Then Christopher had an epiphany. What if Sarah Nolan was in on the professor’s joke? He was a stupid pawn from a hick town. Who better to play a joke on than some fool with his head always in the clouds? Not this time, he thought. This time the young victim would not be made out to be a fool.
Christopher was ready. He got in his car and started the drive to the funeral home and Dr. Wells’ house of practical jokes. The best way, maybe the only way, to deal with this situation was to be a good actor. If Wells could be a superb writer and magician, then Christopher could be both gifted writer and actor. One thing was for sure – the evening would be full of theatrics. What were Wells’ and Nolan’s intentions? Was this a good natured romp or a cruel joke to showcase his intellectual inferiority? It made him ponder whether or not his work was so good it threatened Wells, or so poor that it had opened him up to mock and ridicule. Either way, he was in a terribly awkward situation. Fiction he’d read about older writers who had murdered younger writers to steal their stories crossed his mind. No. He was flattering himself now. Perhaps this entire night was going to be just one bad joke. If it was, then it was surely going to be played on Christopher. He pulled into the driveway of the funeral home and slowly got out of his car. There was a graveyard behind the place which was, to Christopher, a joke in itself. To add to the cliché, the night was even a bit…foggy! But, this wasn’t a story; this was real life.
Christopher wasn’t exactly sure where Sarah was supposed to meet him, but he knew he was in the ball park. He was punctual and the whole property wasn’t really that big. Christopher waited patiently in the fog. Then he thought he heard something. Footsteps! There was another epiphany. What if this was like a movie where his fellow students would all jump out and laugh? It wasn’t Halloween or even April fool’s Day. Still, there is always time to make fun of some geek who thinks he can write masterpieces of the macabre. He was listening intently and it didn’t sound like a group waiting to sneak up on him. Christopher was relieved that he probably wasn’t being videotaped at the moment.
“Christopher….”
“What was that?” he shouted out loud. “Is there some kind of voice behind me?”
“Christopher….”
It sounded like someone saying his name. Might have been the wind, Christopher thought. The howling wind could make a noise, fooling the ears. Not this time, he thought. That was someone or something calling my name. Was this all part of the big fraternity prank? He wasn’t sure, but he was certain that he hated the way he was hearing his name sound out loud. Creepy sounds, he thought. They weren’t going away but neither was he. Christopher walked down the sidewalk and into the graveyard. It was still foggy, no matter how far he walked.
“Christopher.”
“All right, I know this is some sort of joke,” he said. Christopher looked all around him but no one else appeared t
o be there. “Why the hell are you doing this?” he asked. Once again, there was no answer and he appeared to be alone in the graveyard. A terrible thought came to him. He was wondering if he was right about this being a joke, but wrong about other people showing up. The joke would surely be on the fool who waited for the mysterious woman who never came. What a laugh that could be. People could ask if he encountered any supernatural creatures or events. Walking around alone in a graveyard would be a sensational prank. He wasn’t buying it. There might not be any vampires or a deal with the devil here, but this was no laughing matter. No. This was a dead serious matter. He would wait here for a while and if Sarah did not show up, then he would go see Dr. Wells.
“Christopher.”
There was no doubt about it. He heard it that time for sure. Sarah was standing in the distance. It was her voice calling to him. Something was terribly wrong with her. Although he did recognize her voice, she sounded like she was possessed or from another dimension. She walked a little closer.
“Christopher! Come to me now….”
It was her. Her eyes were staring up at the stars and something in her voice had changed. She wasn’t full of life and emotion the way she was in all their previous encounters. Sarah walked closer. There was no doubt about it. This was no joke. Sarah was now standing in front of him. She was beautiful and naked.
“Please follow me, Christopher.”
“What’s wrong with you?’
“Nothing is wrong. Everything is wonderful.”
He followed her to the end of the graveyard despite his better judgment. She continued to smile at him but it wasn’t right. Her lovely smile was otherworldly, just like her voice had become. It didn’t take too long for him to grasp the situation. Christopher was very smart even when faced with something like this. He was being seduced by her.
“We’re almost there, my love.”
Whether or not Sarah was possessed, he didn’t know. Christopher did know she was a strikingly beautiful woman who wrote hardcore erotica. He knew he could run away but he didn’t want to blow this opportunity. The thought of making love to her was just too enticing. There was a part of him that wished he had better will power to resist her. He couldn’t. In his heart of hearts, he didn’t really want to even consider not doing it. This was a great moment in his life. He was going to make love to a ravishing beauty in a foggy graveyard. Who could ask for more? A writer of dark fiction couldn’t ask for much more. Hell, this would make a great story.
“We’re here now.”
“Okay.”
“Are you ready for me?”
He wasn’t really ready even though he said he was. He suspected he was about as ready as anyone could be in this bizarre situation. He was pretty sure he once saw all of this in a horror movie.
“Take me!”
It wasn’t long before he was inside of her. She was already naked when she lay down on the tombstone. She was full of lust and possibly some sort of demonic spirit, he thought. What kind of person would disrespect the dead like this? Perhaps she was possessed, but Christopher wasn’t, as far as he knew. He had no excuse for this behavior except his lust for Sarah’s perfect, voluptuous body. She was perfection. Sarah was climbing all over him and scratching his back with her long nails. He was incredibly aroused by her moaning sounds of passion.
“Don’t stop!”
Her voice was beginning to change. There was definitely something more going on here. Christopher was intent on touching every part of Sarah’s body he could during the act. He knew he was about to come. Then he made an awful mistake. He looked deep into Sarah’s eyes. It took a moment or so for this to happen because she was moving her head back and forth, with her hair mostly covering her face. But he got a glimpse of her eyes. That was enough.
“My God, your eyes are brighter than the sun.”
“Yes.”
“Who made your eyes like that?”
“The masters did.”
“Who are the masters?”
“Shhhh….”
Christopher followed the beautiful girl’s advice. He didn’t think about the disturbing, muffled words coming from her mouth. Instead he concentrated on how much fun it was to be doing her. He felt his body shake as he had a massive orgasm. She climbed off of him and smiled. She just stood there as the light of her eyes dimmed. He was still trying to catch his breath.
“We must go….”
“Who are the masters?”
“They are the same masters he has.”
“Dr. Wells?”
“Yes.”
“What are they?”
“You’ll know soon enough.”
“Are they to be my masters as well?”
“Yes.”
Like a fool, Christopher followed the beautiful woman through the graveyard. He had made love with her and saw that there was something wrong with her. Something terribly wrong and he didn’t know what it was. How could he be sure? Still, Christopher followed her deep into the night’s fog. It seemed like their destination was nowhere. The walk seemed to take forever. Then she stopped.
“This is the doorway.”
“What?”
“Follow.”
He did just that. Christopher was enveloped in the darkness. On blind and psychotic faith, he followed her footsteps. He didn’t really see the doorway as much as he…felt it. The two lovers walked through some kind of passage. Then he saw a long, dark hallway.
“All in good time you will know.”
“I want to know now.”
“Follow me and soon you will know.”
He didn’t know a damn thing. There was now a lighted path but his mind was blank. Christopher followed Sarah down a path that had large mirrors on every side. There were bright, candle-burning chandeliers on the ceiling. He didn’t know where the hell he was. Was he even awake? He was in a strange daze. Did someone drug him? Christopher didn’t know anything except to follow her.
“Watch my reflections first.”
He did. Christopher was a normal college student who had slept with a few girls, but mostly had watched internet porn. This was a different game altogether. The fantasies reflected in the mirror were diverse and extreme, and they all featured Sarah as the main character. He was devastated by what he saw; still, he couldn’t turn his eyes away.
“This is the real me…still want to be my boyfriend?”
“This isn’t real.”
“No. The shy girl from class wasn’t real.”
“Dear God!”
“Lust is my god and I am a goddess!”
“No.”
“Oh yes!” Sarah laughed or made a monstrous sound that resembled one. She smiled at him and pointed her finger at some of the characters in her stories. The girl was beaten up and raped by pirates and medieval dungeon torturers. Her more wholesome fantasies involved straight forward sex…with multiple people in orgies. The more he saw, the more he wanted to look away. He couldn’t do it. There was some terrible part of him that wanted to know how twisted she really was. Another part of him, perhaps the worst part, liked what he saw. The voyeur in him enjoyed watching all of this.
“Like what you see?”
“No!”
“See more!”
What Christopher saw next was simply unspeakable. It was like a parallel dimension where all people did was engage in decadent sex. The scene itself wasn’t nearly as disturbing as what it represented to his basic value system. Morality appeared to be arbitrary and meaningless with every encounter he witnessed. He didn’t want to look anymore. Truly, he did not.
“Please stop!”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to see anymore of this.”
“There is much more for you to see!”
Christopher watched the mirrors reveal more of Sarah’s insatiable appetites. This time, the women were the center of attention. Her lesbian lust knew no bounds at all. More orgies were reflected in near every mirror and this time the men were not invited.
>
“Why are you showing me this?”
“Men are fools. They think we need them a lot more than we do!”
“Why show me this? It’s something I don’t wish to see.”
“Sorry. It’s all about my wishes at the moment.”
More graphic scenes of lesbianism engulfed him. They were disturbing. Images destroyed his preconceived notions that women need men. It appeared that they only needed them for reproduction. That’s all. These scenes where Sarah was typically the one giving oral gratification were not a turn on. Sometimes she would go down on four other women at the same time.
“Watch me go. It’s so glorious!”
None of the girl-on-girl pornography he had watched in the past held a candle to this. He realized now that those women were putting on a show for men. The only thing that these images could do was make men angry. Furious or violent, even.
“I’m making you angry. Aren’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Watch me go!”
The number of guests invited to the lesbian orgy was growing. Extended invitations led to many women who were quite unattractive. Sarah seemed to especially delight in pleasing these ugly women. She did it with a huge smile on her face. In Christopher’s opinion, this was another insult towards men and he was getting very angry. He was seriously thinking about smacking the hell out of Sarah.
