by Tanya Simon
“Since you enjoy screwing her so much, I want you to show me why I shouldn’t be upset. I want you to screw each other now. If you show me something I haven’t seen before, you live. If not, well,” she smiled sadistically, “you die.”
Matt couldn’t believe this was happening. He had been begging Gwen to do it for three months and she kept saying she wasn’t ready. He knew she was still a virgin, but one look at her crazy mother told him her mother wouldn’t care even if she believed him. He turned to look at Gwen for the first time since he came into the room, he blanched, and her mother had her dressed like a nun. The dress was prissy; it was nothing like the rest of Gwen’s wardrobe. The dress made her look like she should be singing a solo at church. And he was way too terrified of the gun to get excited.
“What are you waiting for?” Naomi demanded impatiently.
“I… um can’t get an… I … the gun pointed at me is keeping me from being able to perform.” Matt finally stammered out.
Naomi laughed and put the gun in her holster. “There, now get your freak on.”
Matt wanted to live, so, he took Gwen by the hand and led her over to the bed. She struggled at first, but she realized it was the only hope she had of getting out of this room alive. She made to take off the dress.
“NO! Leave it on, just take off your panties.”
Gwen started to cry again and did as she was told. Matt unbuttoned his jeans and slowly slid them down his legs. He was concentrating very hard, trying to think of anything to get an erection as he climbed on the bed and lay down beside Gwen. He focused on this month’s centerfold in the magazine he had purchased just last night. Matt’s fertile imagination remembered and enhanced every curve. He sighed with relief as he felt himself growing hard. He apologized silently as he raised Gwen’s skirt, when she took hold of it; he helped her bunch it around her waist. He fumbled between her thighs and worked a finger inside her. She moaned in pain and he kissed her to shut her up. Slowly but surely as he worked his finger back and forth inside her, she began to get wet. He had heard it was easier on a virgin if they were in the middle of an orgasm when their hymen was broken, so he kept working his fingers in and out of her until she clinched around his fingers. He climbed on top of her, pushed her legs apart and shoved into her. She still cried out. He pushed himself all the way in and pulled almost out, before he pushed back in gently, trying not to hurt her. He cried when he saw the tears trailing down her face.
“I want to see her give you a blow job.”
Matt climbed off of Gwen and helped her sit up and he traded places with her. Gwen wiped her nose and tried to remember what the woman had done in the one and only porno movie she had seen. As it came back to her, she trailed kisses down his abdomen. And she pushed his legs apart and gently licked his balls, she sucked them lightly and he moaned, so she did it again. Gwen took a deep breath and tried to fit all of him inside her mouth, she gagged, but she tried again. Matt moaned and his hands turned white where they were holding the sheet. He couldn’t stand it anymore; he pushed up and swung Gwen around. He pushed her back on the bed and almost blind with need he pushed inside her again, this time he went in more easily.
Naomi stared in fascination at the quick, steady pumping of the boy’s ass. She felt her own body respond and she stood. Mechanically she removed her clothes and walked to the bed. She grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her out from under him. Naomi whirled Gwen around to face her and raised the revolver and shot her in the head. She threw the body on the floor and took Gwen’s place. She smiled at the terrified boy and stroked him.
“If you want to live, you better not lose this.” She moaned as he slid inside her, his fear making him pump harder and faster than he ever had before. Naomi screamed as she came. When she could speak again, she whispered words of love and life into Matt’s ear as he pumped away. And when he shouted as he came, she lifted the revolver and lovingly pulled the trigger. The boy fell forward onto her and she pushed him off. She hummed happily as she closed the door behind her and went to shower.
When her husband came home, Naomi had set the scene for a romantic evening. Candlelight played on the walls, soft music drifted through the air. She had made sure the mess upstairs would not alarm him by locking the doors to both of the rooms. She thought she looked her best in the black lace teddy he had given her for her birthday. They enjoyed good food, good wine and good conversation, which they seldom got to do with their schedules. He was an extremely happy man as she led him upstairs to their bedroom for what he thought was to be an amazing night of sex.
He opened the bedroom door and nearly choked on his tongue at what he saw. There on the bed trussed up like a turkey, was his twenty-year-old secretary. She had been beaten severely; she was nude. He stepped over to her and started untying her.
“What the hell are you doing?” He yelled. “Chrissy, are you okay.” He growled in rage as the girl dissolved in tears. “What the hell is this about Naomi?”
“I thought you and your mistress should die together.” She smiled as they both stared at her in horror. She leveled her service revolver at them.
“Naomi have you lost your effin’ mind?” He looked at the sobbing girl beside him. “She’s Phil’s daughter, my best friend’s daughter! She’s like a daughter to me.” He blanched as Naomi walked up to the bed. “Please don’t hurt her. Please, Naomi” His voice broke as his eyes filled with tears.
“How touching, you sit there begging for this whore’s life.” Naomi grabbed the duct tape binding the girl and pulled her close. The girl went wild when she looked into Naomi’s dead eyes. She screamed and begged.
Her husband saw this as an opportunity and lunged for Naomi. She stepped out of his path and shot him in the leg, he howled with pain. She turned back to the bed and tenderly told the girl to lie down. Naomi glanced over at her husband; he was still writhing on the floor.
“Pay attention!” He turned his head toward the bed.
When she knew she had her husband’s attention, she climbed on the bed and straddled the girl. Naomi struck the girl with the revolver hard across the mouth. She waited until the girl could focus again and she made sure she watched the revolver. She slowly trailed it down the girl’s flat abdomen. She looked over to make sure her husband was still watching, he was, he had tears streaming down his face. Naomi turned away in disgust. She raised the revolver and shot the girl once through the lower part of her thigh. The girl screamed and bucked almost unseating Naomi.
“Shut up and be still!”
When the girl went still, she took her revolver and shot her through her left hand. This time the girl screamed but she held still.
“Good.” Naomi stroked her hair.
Naomi crawled off the girl and pushed her legs apart. The girl began screaming and Herb started begging again.
“Shut the hell up! Now!” she brandished the revolver. They both eventually managed to be quiet.
Naomi slowly stroked the revolver up and down the girl’s silky thighs. She watched, as the girl’s eyes would grow larger every time she got close to her snatch. It made her laugh.
Naomi shoved the revolver inside the girl and raped her with it. Then she pushed it inside her again and pulled the trigger.
She laughed as Herb vomited onto the floor. “I’m not cleaning that up.” She grabbed him by his collar and yanked him to his feet. He moaned in pain. “I’m afraid I lied to you.” She propelled him out into the hall towards Gwen’s room. “The kid’s aren’t gone for the night.” She swung open the door. “They’re right here.”
Her husband screamed as he saw his daughter’s nude body lying on the floor. A bloody, oozing mess replaced her eyeball and there was a boy laying face down on the bed, blood was seeping from his head. Herb whirled around, ignoring the pain in his knee and stared at his wife of 17 years. Her mouth was twisted into a gruesome smile and her eyes, which usually twinkled, were completely devoid of any emotion. His breath caught as he thought of the baby.
/> To spite the pain, he hobbled down the hall and flung the door open. He crossed himself as he went to the crib. He swore as he gently smoothed the hair away from the baby’s blue face and stroked the kitten they had bought for her to grow up with. With a sigh, he turned and went into Naomi’s arms.
“Satan loves us.” She stroked his hair. “And he waits for you. Go to him.”
He nodded as she placed the gun in his mouth, he didn’t want to live without his family. “Goodbye.”
Naomi pulled the trigger.
Sam yawned heavily as he fumbled in his pocket for his keys. He let himself into the vast emptiness, which was his home. He was feeling like a failure. He had failed at so many things; his family was gone, he wasn’t stopping the maniac who was terrorizing his city, and he was clueless as to how to help his best friend deal with this case. They had nothing on the case, not even with the new body. Every cop has one case he couldn’t solve or he couldn’t get the evidence to convict the person he knew was guilty. This was going to be his one case. The one he would be boring people with in the retirement home. He walked over to the answering machine and punched the play button.
“Hiya pardner.” Naomi’s voice was not quite her own. “Your house is going to go BOOM!” She laughed maniacally. “5…4…3…2…1… Just kiddin’ are you still there?”
He wasn’t. Sam had just reached the edge of his front yard, when the earth around him began to shake and all of the sound was sucked out of his world. He groaned as invisible hands picked him up and threw him across the street. He landed with a thud on his neighbor’s lawn, gasping for air. A glance at his home showed him an angry, roaring fireball.
“Shit.” He said as he laid back and closed his eyes.
“Hiya pardner.” Naomi said as she straddled him.
“Hiya.” Sam said politely as he tossed her off and elbowed her in the gut. He sprung to his feet and pulled his revolver.
Naomi kicked the revolver out of his hand. “Oh boy.” She began circling him. “This is gonna be fun.”
Sam grunted as Naomi pounced on him and knocked him over. She wrapped her hands around his throat and squeezed. Sam began to see stars as he fumbled in his pocket. Naomi squeezed tighter, and Sam’s world began to go gray.
Naomi was enjoying herself immensely. She gagged and screeched as pain spread through out her abdomen. She looked down at her belly and blinked in wonder at the pocketknife protruding from her middle. She laughed and let go of Sam’s throat.
“Satan loves me, to him I go.” She slumped forward.
Sam pushed his way out from under Naomi’s body; he wiped tears from his pale face. Sitting down on his neighbor’s snowy lawn, he cradled Naomi’s head in his lap. His tears started again as he noticed the sickeningly sweet smile on her face.
After they looked Sam over at the scene, he borrowed a car; his was blown apart, and went to tell Herb the bad news. He kept telling himself grown men don’t cry, as tears rolled down his face.
“Damn!” He screamed into the night air. Naomi had been a damn good partner and a good cop. She had been more than just his partner she had been his friend. And now, he had to tell her husband he’d killed her and her children she wasn’t coming home. He remembered one of her children would never know her mother and cussed a blue streak. He didn’t know how the bastards had managed to brainwash her so completely. And the religious part of him, buried so long ago, wondered if she was roasting in Hell as she had said.
He pulled into the driveway behind Herb’s car and pulled his battered body out of the car. He noticed a light was on downstairs and thanked his lucky stars he wouldn’t have to wake him. As he got closer he noticed the door was ajar. He reached for his gun and realized it wasn’t there. Sam took a deep breath and nudged the door open. When he stepped inside nothing in the living room looked misplaced. He went through the first floor and found nothing, so he went upstairs. He noticed all the doors were shut. They never shut the doors unless they were home. He walked to the master bedroom and softly tapped on the door. No one answered, so he opened the door.
Sam felt vomit leap from his throat as he stared in horror and disbelief at the body sprawled on the bed. Someone had shoved a gun up inside her and pulled the trigger. Sam gripped the wall and backed out of the room. He ran frantically down the hall to Gwen’s room. He felt the bile rise at the thought of what he might find. He stopped outside the door and tried desperately to put the picture of the sweet, bubbly girl Gwen had been out of his mind. Taking a deep breath he pushed the door open.
He sighed resignedly at the bodies within. How could Naomi, who was such a good mother, have done this to her child? He didn’t know who the boy was, but Sam would have to tell another mother her child was dead. He thought of the mess in the other room; her would have to tell two mothers. Sam steeled himself as he went back down the hall to the baby’s room. He knew she would be dead. Poor Herb, he had lost his entire family tonight. Sam figured if he had been caught in the bloodbath, he would have been in the master bedroom.
He was wrong.
Herb was propped up against the baby’s closet, his head blown apart. Sam walked to the crib and shook his head as though he could erase the sight of the dead baby. Turning, he went to call for reinforcements.
18
The funerals were all held on a rainy day in the beginning of April. Sam looked at the large crowd standing at Naomi’s gravesite. He dreaded speaking to Naomi’s mother after service, how could he explain, a perfectly sane mother of two, turning into Lizzie Borden. He had no explanations, but thanks to Naomi’s last words, he had a lead. A woman’s mournful cry brought him back to his surroundings, just as they lowered Naomi’s coffin into the ground.
When the minister was done, Sam took a deep breath as Naomi’s mother and three very large brothers approached him.
“Mrs. Summerton.” Sam choked back tears and fought to be strong. “I would like to extend my condolences.”
Her sons were holding her arms to support her. She tried to smile past her tears. “The service was lovely, thank you for arranging it for us.”
“I don’t know what to say.” He wiped a wayward tear away. “I would give almost anything for this not to have happened. I swear I didn’t see it coming.”
One of the mountains sniffed and said, “None of us did; she was a little remote, but she always was when she was working on a tough case. We don’t blame you, Sam.”
“But please find who did this to her, so I can find some peace.” Mrs. Summerton said as she laid a hand on Sam’s arm. “You’ll understand if we don’t want to see you for a while; it’s just too painful.” She moved away taking the mountains with her.
Sam sighed and turned to walk away. He stood still when he noticed the piercing green eyes staring at him. A beautiful woman walked toward him, with an equally stunning man beside her.
“You probably don’t remember me, Detective Jefferies, I’m Mystery Williams.” She extended a slender hand, which Sam took. She motioned to the man beside her. “This is my boyfriend Ryan Parsons.” She looked back at the grave. “I came because she was nice to me and because I thought I would try one more time to get you to listen.”
He remembered her all right. At the time he had thought she was a fruitcake. Now he wasn’t so sure. “I remember you, Ms. Williams, and I am ready to listen.” He looked at the man beside her. “I thought your boyfriend was named Seth Parsons, not Ryan.” He motioned to a bench under the limbs of a big maple tree.
“Yes he was. This is his brother, Ryan. Long story and one which has nothing to do with why I’m here.” She sat on the bench and the man sat with her; it was as though they moved in tandem. “I don’t know what we can do, but we have to try.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes. “You see Roodmas is coming up and as it is a big holiday for them, the killing will probably extend to several in one night versus the usual one a night.”
“What the heck is Roodmas?” Sam asked.
“It is their celebration of
Christ’s death on the cross.” She looked at him anxiously. “You can understand why it is a big holiday for them.”
Sam gulped and nodded.
“My mother and father are the leaders of this coven.” She took a deep breath and seemed to tremble for a moment. Ryan took her hand. “My father is Cain. The original Cain. He is the Antichrist. A devil. My mother is a powerful witch, I believe her to be human. So, I am at least half-devil and half-human. My mother is the leader of the cult, which is Satanic and very powerful. It has existed since the beginning of time. Its members include heads of State, businessmen, doctors, lawyers, and taxi drivers. It is completely self-contained and ultra-violent.” She held her hand up when Sam tried to speak. “My father, Cain, is back to bring about the prophecy these people have been awaiting for thousands of years. The child has finally been born that can tip the scales once and for all.” She looked up at Sam and he found himself unable to look away. “If I chose my ancestors, my heritage, the easy way, mankind will end up in Satan’s hands, the battle going to him at last. If I chose myself, my family.” she looked at the hand Ryan held so tightly in his. “If I choose humankind the Roodmasi will be no more.”
