The Cellar bhc-1

by Richard Laymon

“He rose to his full height, and I was filled with dread, for this was no man. Nor was he an ape.

  “ ‘As he drew near, I resolved to discover his identity more fully, even at hazard to my safety. To this purpose, I struck a match. It flared, giving me a momentary view of his hideous countenance before he cowered away, snarling.

  “ ‘While he was thus turned, I beheld his back and hindquarters. Whether he was one of God’s exotic creatures, or an ill-made perversion vomited forth by the devil, I know not. His ghastly appearance and nudity shocked me. Yet I was drawn, by an irresistible force, to lay my hand upon his misshapen shoulder.

  “ ‘I allowed the match to die. In the darkness, totally without sight, I felt the creature turn. His warm breath on my face smelled of the earth and wild, uninhabited forests. He lay his hands upon my shoulders. Claws bit into me. I stood before the creature, helpless with fear and wonder, as he split the fabric of my nightgown.

  “ ‘When I was bare, he muzzled my body like a dog. He licked my breasts. He sniffed me, even my private areas, which he probed with his snout.

  “ ‘He moved behind me. His claws pierced my back, forcing me to my knees. I felt the slippery warmth of his flesh press down on me, and I knew with certainty what he was about. The thought of it appalled me to the heart, and yet I was somehow thrilled by the touch of him, and strangely eager.

  “ ‘He mounted me from behind, a manner as unusual for humans as it is customary among many lower animals. At the first touch of his organ, fear wrenched my vitals, not for the safety of my flesh but for my everlasting soul. And yet I allowed him to continue. I know, now, that no power of mine could have prevented him from having his will with me. I made no attempt to resist, however. On the contrary, I welcomed his entry. I hungered for it as if I somehow presaged its magnificence.

  “ ‘Oh Lord, how he plundered me! How his claws tore my flesh! How his teeth bore into me! How his prodigious organ battered my tender womb. How brutal he was in his savagery, how gentle in his heart.

  “ ‘I knew, as we lay spent on the earthen cellar floor, that no man—not even Glen—could ever stir my passion in such a way. I wept. The creature, disturbed by my outburst, slipped away into his hole and disappeared.’ ” 4.

  “ ‘The following night, when I descended the cellar stairs, I found him waiting for me. I disrobed immediately to save my gown from the ravishment of his claws. I embraced him, savoring the slick heat of his skin. Then I went to my hands and knees, and he took me with no less fervor than on the previous night. When the delirium was past, we lay about until I recovered.

  “ ‘At length, I showed him my lamp. I indicated for him to turn around to protect his eyes. Then I lit the lamp, and covered it with an indigo hood I had devised during the day. The blue-shaded lamp was kind to his delicate eyes, while it provided sufficient light for my purpose.

  “ ‘I saw, as I studied him, that he was a curiously shaped creature, indeed. Several of his odd features accounted, no doubt, for his magnificence as a lover. His lengthy, spearlike tongue was one of these. His sexual organ, without question, was the most singular and wondrous of his features, accounting as much for his ardor as for my own. Not only was it staggering in size and in its unusual contours and ridges, but also its orifice was unlike that of any creature known to me. The orifice, hinged like a jaw, possessed a tonguelike member with a two-inch extension.’ ”

  “Bullshit,” Jud said. “What the hell is she trying to hand us?”

  “A penis with a mouth?” Donna suggested.

  “It’s not such a bad idea?” Jud said, and laughed tensely.

  “As long as it hasn’t got teeth,” said Donna.

  “Good Christ, how much of this is she making up?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know. A lot of what she says—the claws and slippery skin, the reaction to light—they fit what I’ve seen.”

  “What about the penis?”

  “I didn’t notice. Of course, the house was dark. I could hardly see anything.”

  “I’ll go on. ‘This orifice and tongue, I am certain, enabled him not only to titillate me in the extreme, but also heighten his ardor by the taste of my juices.’ ”

  “Good God!” Jud muttered, shaking his head.

  “ ‘After I satisfied my curiosity regarding his body, he explored me with much the same intensity. We then surrendered to a new tide of passion.

  “ ‘When we finished, I presented him with an assortment of food. He ate cheese with great delight. He nibbled the roll, and discarded it. He rejected the beef with barely a sniff. As I would later learn, only raw meat suited his palate, and this had been well cooked. He lapped water from a bowl, then sat down on his haunches, apparently satisfied.

  “ ‘Lying upon my back, I opened myself to him. He appeared confused, for he was accustomed to having his way in the manner of lower creatures. I urged him down upon me, however, so that I could look upon the strange beauty of his face and feel his slick flesh against my breasts as he ravished me.

  “ ‘When we were done, I watched him slide into the hole behind the bushel baskets. I crawled to the edge of the hole. I listened, hearing him deep inside. I called out quietly to him. I knew not what his name might be, so I called him Xanadu after the strange and exotic land described by Mr. Coleridge in his unfinished masterpiece. He was gone, but I knew he would return the following night.

  “ ‘I have been with Xanadu every night, making my way very silently down to the cellar after the children are asleep. We indulge our passions with a frequency and intensity that knows no bounds. Each morning, before dawn, Xanadu returns to his hole. I know not why, nor where he goes. It is my belief that he is a creature of the night, who spends his days in sleep. I have become much that way, myself.

  “ ‘Daylight finds me weary through every fiber. This has not gone unnoticed by Earl and Sam. I explain to them, with some truth, that I have found sleep difficult of late.

  “ ‘Glen Ross was my chief worry, in the beginning. He immediately expressed concern over my lassitude. He demanded to examine me for a physical ailment, but I resisted him to the point of rudeness. He surrendered his demand, and gave me sleeping powders.

  “ ‘His nightly demands for amorous attention aggravated and frightened me beyond telling. His embrace made me shudder. His kisses were repugnant to me. Yet I would have borne these tortures and allowed him liberties only to allay his suspicions had it not been for the visible evidence left on my body by Xanadu: the bruises, the scratches and cuts from his claws, the bite marks. Below my neck, hardly an inch of my body had not been wounded in the passion of our love. In the presence of my children and Dr. Ross, I wore a highnecked blouse with long sleeves, and a full skirt. Even these were not sufficient covering. Upon one occasion, I attributed scratches on my hands and face to a tomcat flying into a rage when I picked it up.

  “ ‘Three nights ago, Dr. Ross called on me and demanded to know the meaning of my icy rejections. Though I had long expected such an outburst, I was hard put to answer in a manner that would bring no suspicion of the truth. At length, with a show of modesty and shame, I divulged that our sins of fornication placed our souls in jeopardy and I could no longer abide such evil. To my astonishment, he suggested that we marry at once. I said I could not live with a man who has brought such a fall upon me. With derisive laughter, he pointed out that I had been satisfied enough, living with a bandit and murderer. I used this slur upon my deceased husband as a pretext to usher Dr. Ross from the house. I do not think he will return.

  “ ‘Yesterday, I posted a letter to Ethel. I informed her that Dr. Ross had taken back his marriage proposal, and that I was heartsick. I asked that she keep Sam and Earl for two weeks, so that I might make a restorative trip to San Francisco. I am now eagerly awaiting her reply. With the boys far off in Portland, I will be able to abandon my tiring pretenses. Xanadu and I will have free reign of the house.

  “ ‘June 28,’ ” Donna read. “That’s what, al
most a month after the last entry? ‘Tomorrow, the children are due to return from Portland in the company of Ethel, who wishes to visit for an unspecified period. I have been looking forward with pain to their return.

  “ ‘For close onto three weeks, Xanadu and I have been alone in the house. With the arrival of others, he must return to the cellar. I know not whether my heart will bear such separation.

  “ ‘July 1. Last night while Ethel and the children slept, I visited the cellar. Instead of greeting me with an embrace, Xanadu glowered from the corner near his hole. He took the raw beef I offered him. Clamping it in his jaws, he crawled into the hole and disappeared. Though I waited until dawn, he did not return.

  “ ‘July 2. Xanadu has not returned.

  “ ‘July 3. Again tonight, he stayed away.

  “ ‘July 4. If he is trying to destroy me by his absence, he is succeeding. I know not what I will do if he does not return soon.

  “ ‘July 12. Ten nights have passed, and I fear he has no intention of returning. I know, now, that I was a fool to allow him up from the cellar. He grew accustomed to the comfort of the house, and my constant presence. How could he understand the necessity of his return to the cellar? How could he view it as anything other than rejection?

  “ ‘July 14. Last night, instead of keeping my vigil in the cellar, I wandered the wooded hills behind the house. Though I found no sign of Xanadu, I shall search again tonight.

  “ ‘July 31. My nighttime searches of the hillside have accomplished nothing. I am so weary. With the loss of Xanadu, all joy has passed from my life. Even in my children, I take no happiness. I resent them, with all my heart, for they were the instruments of my loss. I would certainly have torn them unborn from my womb, had I known the agony their presence would bring.

  “ ‘August 1. I spent last night in the cellar, hoping for Xanadu’s return. I would have prayed, but I dared not insult the Lord in such a manner. I determined, at length, to end my life.

  “ ‘August 2. Last night, I waited until Ethel and the boys were asleep. Then I carried a length of rope down to the cellar. Lyle had often spoken to me of execution by hanging. It was a style of dying he dreaded until the day he was gunned down. I would have chosen a different way to end my life, but none seemed so sure as the hangman’s noose.

  “ ‘I worked long on the rope, but was unable to devise a proper hanging knot. A simple loop, I decided, would make do. The pain of suffocation would be great, but only for a time.

  “ ‘I managed, after a great deal of trouble, to throw the loop over one of the cellar’s support beams. I fixed the rope’s loose end to the center post. Then I climbed upon a chair that I had brought down cellar for that purpose. With the loop around my neck, I prepared myself for the end.

  “ ‘At length, I knew that I could not depart this life without making one final attempt to see my beloved Xanadu.

  “ ‘To this end, I stepped down from the chair and walked close to the mouth of his earthen hole. I knelt at its edge. I called out to him. Hearing no response after a wait of several minutes, I determined to seek him out. If I should perish in the attempt, so be it. Such an end would only save me from the pain of hanging.

  “ ‘Shedding my clothes, I climbed head-foremost into the hole, much as I had seen him do on so many occasions. The earth was cold and moist against my bare flesh. Its blackness was complete. The close confinement of the hole rendered crawling impossible, so I inched forward like a snake, flat on my belly. I know not how long I struggled to writhe my way deeper. The walls of the tunnel seemed to tighten around me, bearing down as if to crush the breath from my lungs. Yet I forced myself onward.

  “ ‘When I could move no more, I cried out to Xanadu. I cried out in all the pain of my love and desperation. I cried out again and again, though every breath burned my lungs, for I loathed to die without bidding farewell to my lover.

  “ ‘At length, I heard the welcome sound of his slick flesh gliding through the clay. I heard the hiss of his breath. He pushed his snout against my face, moaning and licking.

  “ ‘Clenching my hair with his massive jaws, he propelled himself backward, dragging me. The pain of it was welcome to my dazed senses. When finally he released my hair, I found no more walls pressing in upon me. The air tasted fresh. I learned, later, that he had brought me to his underground dwelling, a hollowed-out space only large enough for him to stand upright and lie down, located just beyond the limit of my property and several feet beneath the earth’s surface. The fresh air came from a concealed opening overhead, and other tunnels that led up the hillside. I learned all this in the morning, however. At the time Xanadu brought me to his dwelling, I was barely conscious, and trembling with chill. In my lover’s embrace, the chill departed. I was wrapped in blissful sleep.

  “ ‘He woke me, sometime before dawn. I was much recovered. Xanadu entered my body, and loved me more gently than ever before, though not without an extreme of passion. When we were done, he led me to an opening. From the manner of our parting, I know that he will come to me tonight.

  “ ‘I made my way across the dewy grass, alone and naked in the early-morning gray.

  “ ‘I spent the morning in solitude, planning. Shortly before noon, my thoughts were interrupted by a young man named Gus, who wished to work for a meal. Firewood required splitting, so I gave him the job. For much of the afternoon, I heard the ring of his sledge. All the while, I planned.

  “ ‘It is evening, now. Gus took supper with us, and left. The children sleep. Ethel has not yet retired, but that is no matter. Xanadu waits. I shall allow him up from the cellar, and we will again have full reign of the house.’ ”

  “That’s it?” Jud asked.

  Donna nodded.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Anytime, now.

  In the dim light filtering through the curtain, Roy dressed. He got up and looked at the girls. Their skin seemed very dark against the white of the sheets.

  He wanted to start a fire. It would take care of the girls, and whatever evidence he might be leaving behind. A fire would be perfect. But not without a delayed start.

  He had no candles.

  A cigarette or cigar might work as a delaying device, but he didn’t have one.

  Maybe the girl.

  Crouching over her small pile of clothes, he lifted the T-shirt. It had no pockets. He picked up the cut-off jeans and searched their pockets. Nothing.

  Shit!

  He couldn’t just set the room on fire and run: He had to give himself time. Time to get into Cabin 12, time to get into 9, time to get a good distance away in Donna’s car.

  Wait.

  Shit, he’d have to burn 9 and 12, too.

  Forget it.

  Forget the whole thing.

  He suddenly smiled. Without a delayed fire ready to set this place ablaze, he wouldn’t have to rush. He could take his time, enjoy himself.

  What he’d do, he’d wipe the place clean, make sure he left no prints.

  He wandered the rooms with the girl’s T-shirt, rubbing all the surfaces he remembered touching. Somehow, it seemed pointless. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a hollow ache in his stomach as if something had gone very wrong. Something he’d forgotten about.

  He dumped the backpack onto the floor. Along with the ground cloth and sleeping bags, four cans of chili and spaghetti rolled out.

  He should’ve eaten. That’s what made the ache.

  He rubbed the cans with the T-shirt.

  No, it wasn’t just hunger. Something else was wrong.

  He rubbed the aluminum tubing of the pack frame.

  Shit!

  Karen and Bob’s place! He’d never found out, for certain, whether or not it had burned.

  That morning, on the radio, they’d only mentioned the one fire. If Karen and Bob’s place didn’t go up, then the cops would have all the proof they’d need.

  Okay, maybe it went up, and he just hadn’t heard. He should still be careful with this place.

/>   Not leave evidence.

  Not leave witnesses.

  He swept the room with his eyes, wondering if he’d missed anything. When he was satisfied the place was clean, he went into the bathroom and urinated. He came out. Bending down, he raised his cuff and slipped the knife from its sheath.

  A single clean slash across the throats would do it. He’d stand back to stay out of the spray.

  Knife in hand, he stood.

  He took one step toward Joni’s bed and realized she was gone.

  Impossible!

  Rushing to the bed, he slid his hands across its sheets to be certain his eyes and the darkness hadn’t deceived him. No, the bed was empty. She’d somehow worked the ropes loose.

  He glanced down between the beds. No sign of her.

  Under the bed?

  The doorknob rattled. Roy looked, saw the small girl reaching, pulling. The door flew open for a moment, and shut.

  “Oh fuck!” Roy muttered.

  He ran to the door, swung it open, and stepped out. He shut it silently. Except for a few lighted cabin windows, the parking lot was dark. Roy looked to the left, thinking she would head for the office. No sign of her. He glanced to the right. Still nothing. Maybe she’d run around back.

  “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

  He would just finish off the other one, first.

  He tried to twist the knob. It resisted, as if frozen.

  Locked out. Keys inside.

  Roy drew a deep, shaky breath. He wiped the sweat off his hands, then hurried around the corner of the cabin. Ahead was only darkness. Woods. The night sounds of crickets.

  He wanted his flashlight.

  He’d left it inside.

  Walking quietly, he entered the darkness to find Joni.

  The little bitch!

  His hand ached, gripping the knife so hard.

  He’d rip her! God, he would rip that little bitch! Up one side, down the other.

  “Where are you?” he muttered. “Think you can hide from me, little bitch? I know your smell. I’ll sniff you down.”