Marital Bliss Laura was tending to a roast in the kitchen when the expected movie soundtrack, Jaws' menacing shark attack throbbed through the old house, announcing the arriving of the Hurley's at the front door. A flash of hedonistic excitement rushed through her arteries for the first time in her life. Quickly, she straightened her blouse to show her deep cleavage, then combed her long perfumed auburn hair with her fingers as she went to welcome her guests. The devilish glint in her jade eyes could not be hidden. One last deep breath to quell her nerves and Laura opened the front door with a warm smile. "I'm so glad you could come." Tina and Ken Hurley stood with overnight bags in hand and a bottle of French Merlot.. "I can't believe you live in such a desolate area," Tina commented, having been increasingly tense throughout the ride. Short, plump but attractive she had delicate blonde hair that exposed a supple throat. She and Laura taught in the same school and were work friends. This was the first time Laura had invited her to her home and she was absolutely thrilled, and even honored to be invited. "This is my husband, Ken." "Nice to meet you." Using a soft
seductive modulation. "Tina has told me so much about you. I see she wasn't
exaggerating on how handsome you are." She was particularly attracted to tall, blonde
men with a self assured glint Ken thought Laura was even more lovely than his wife described. "My wife speaks very highly of you--everyday." She sensed hostility toward Tina, which was expected and perfect. "I hope I can live up to your expectations." "You have already." Though Laura was a good eight years older, Ken found her natural beauty, piercing green eyes, and flowing auburn hair quite alluring. He pulled his eyes away from her cleavage. "I'm sorry I only gave you a moment's notice to be our house guests but Joe--." "Oh no, Laura. It's okay. We had nothing planned. I just threw some clothes in a bag and here we are. But we like to be spontaneous, don't we dear?" She nervously sought his approval. "No, you do," Ken answered honestly with a nuance of hostility. "I think its cute that our family and friends have no clue where we are. But if you don't mind I'd like to call my mother later." "Certainly." Ken handed Laura the bottle of wine. "It's a fine vintage. Let it breathe for thirty minutes after opening it." "Naturally. But I'll leave that task to you. Now please feel free to treat our home as your own. I'll take your things to the guest room." "Where's Joe?" Tina asked. "He's at the library researching Egyptian gods, but he should be home any minute." "Is he doing research for a story?" she asked. "What else?" The Hurleys were about to step into the living room, but abruptly stopped. The unanticipated barbaric decor struck them silent. A creepy chill tweaked their skin as they stared at the repulsive scene. From floor to ceiling was a crowded display of
sado-masochistic art and artifacts. Human statues in various tormented poses; brash
paintings with themes of torture, agony, and death; a human skeleton with a hideous grin;
fiendish looking African masks; hideous instruments of torture from medieval times;
shrunken heads; assorted murder weapons; vampire bats attached to the ceiling; three by
five foot blow ups of famous serial killers adorned the far Laura came up behind them. "I guess I should have warned you." "This is quite a room," Tina said, forcing a smile. "How do you live in it?" "We think of our home as a horror museum. You don't like it?" "I feel like I've entered one of those haunted houses that you see in the movies. Is that a real mummy in the corner?" "No. But the cotton wrapping was removed from a genuine Egyptian mummy and placed on this replica." "You can't be serious," Tina said, more in awe of her friend than ever. Ken was studying old movie posters of Dracula, Frankenstein, and the Wolfman on the right wall. "Are they originals?" "Yes, they are. Do you like them?" "Sure. But I wouldn't have them as my permanent art collection." "I am so amazed. No one at school would ever believe this of you." "Horror has a way of taking over one's being. If you just stand still--and stare into the room . . . you'll have the feeling that the room is alive and watching you." Tina's eyes were drawn to the oil painting of severed heads drowning in a crimson whirlpool. She found herself staring into the center of the turbulence, falling into its gravitational undertoe, becoming dizzy. Suddenly her stomach felt queasy. "Are you alright?" Laura asked, holding on to her arm. Her face flushed. "Oh, I guess I'm just hungry." She sat on the sofa holding a rigid smile. She wasn't going to be a timid bore this weekend. "Where did you find all these . . . " Ken asked. "Abominations?" "You said it. I didn't." He shrugged cutely. "Auctions. Antique shops. The Internet. You know most every piece is authentic. And each has a unique story." "I'm not surprised." Her perverse interests heightened his sexual interest in her. "You see that medieval helmet on the wall--the one next to the wooded rack?" "The black one?" Tina asked. "Yes. That was an instrument of torture during the Middle Ages. It was placed on the victim's head. The executioner would turn the handles on each side, which tightened an inner shell against the skull. I imagine the crushing of the cranial bones was quite excruciating." "I bet," Ken said glibly. "I understand the cranial bones shatter like a ripe coconut," Laura said matter-of- factly. "I don't have any experience with crushing ripe coconuts, though I've known some real ball busters." Laura laughed. "Joe thinks there are pieces of bone and dried blood attached to the inner shell." She looked at Tina's paste white face. "Would you like to try it on?" Laura said with a sinister grin. "No!" Tina blurted out reflexively. She quickly changed the subject. "Laura, would you tell Ken about your courtship with Joe. I think it was so romantic." Fingering her sensual hair she sensed Ken wanted to caress. "Well--at the time I was living in Topeka and Joe in Pittsburgh. Both of us were previously married." "I didn't know that," Tina said in surprise. "It's not something I usually share with people--but at nineteen I thought I was marrying a compassionate young man with inflexible ideals. But three years into the marriage and his true passions were revealed--a country club membership, a need to control me, and the pursuit of wealth. And he disliked of my writing themes. The divorce quick and painless." "Sometimes, that's the best alternative," Ken said. "No--the best alternative was cutting off his cock." "Is castration a turn on for you?" he asked cutely. She smiled wryly. "Only with women haters." Ken put up his hands in surrender. "I love women." Ken thought Laura was sexually attracted to him. He needed to figure a way to meet her for lunch in the city. "I sense you do." Her intonation intimated she sensed his penchant for marital infidelities. "Would you tell Ken how you met Joe," Tina asked, oblivious to their sexual attraction for each other. "Horror writing brought us together and has sustained our marriage." "They met on the Internet," Tina added. "Really?" "A writer's workshop. At first we began to critique each other's prose. I was intrigued by his sad characters gripped in terror, suffocating in a dread they could not break free of. And he seemed to genuinely love my free spirited, erotic stories intertwined with graphic bloodlust. In a matter of weeks we began to share ideas and discuss upcoming projects. Eventually, we shared our feelings about everything--then each other. Miraculously, we found that we both had a passion for nature, all the centuries before the eighties, thrill rides, classical music, sick humor, and very scary things. That July we met at a horror convention, and it was love at first sight. We married three months later." "Isn't that so romantic, dear?" "You'll think us crazy but on their honeymoon we watched horror movies every night for a week. We were both addicted to Halloween, Friday the 13th, Psycho, and Nightmare on Elm Street, and all vampire and Frankenstein flicks starring Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff." "Well, that certainly sounds . . . unusual," Ken said. "I thought honeymooners were supposed to enjoy a warm beach and hours of love making." "Ken, be nice," Tina mildly scolded him. "It's okay. I like honesty," Laura said. "But I believe horror fantasies heighten sexual pleasure better than any other fantasy. You should try it." Smirking. "Hey, I'm game for anything--if you'll be my teacher?" "It sounds like fun," Tina said, though she didn't mean it. Looking only at Ken. "I have some terrific lessons but not for third graders." Joe entered the house from the back door, tiptoed through the kitchen and hall, and swooped into the living room, his jacket flaring as if a cape. The Hurleys convulsed for the blind sided terror. Speaking with a Bela Lugosi accent. "Goood eveeening." Vampire teeth glistened. Laughing. "This is my husband, Joe." He was tall, unshaven, balding, with a scruffy appearance. Ken's first impression was that he was a jerk and that's why his wife flirted with real men. "I am thirsty for blood. Blood! I must have blood! Blood! Blood!" His arms outstretched his black coat. "I want to suck your blood!" Tina reflexively protected her throat with her hand. "He's harmless." "Welcome to the home of the undead." Joe kissed Tina's trembling hand. After removing the vampire teeth Joe spoke normally. "Hi. Glad you could come." He shook Ken's hand. "Have you offered our guests refreshments, dear?" "Back to reality. No, we were talking." Bubbly. "I've got an intriguing surprise." He left the room and returned with a package that he placed on the corner table, away from his wife's curious fingers. "After I completed my research, I decided to take a new route home--or more like a deserted country road. After driving four miles I saw an old house that had a curio shop attached. Looked like it had been there a hundred years. Believe me dear, I had no intention of going in, but I felt this strange compulsion to do so--as if there were something in there that I had to find." "And?" "It was a fascinating shop, crammed full of wonderful oddities, but my exploration entails a long explanation and I'm famished." "You're so cruel," Laura frowned. "Can you give us a hint?" Tina asked. "A hint? Let me see." Joe put his finger to his nose and paused. Whispering as if telling a ghost story. "It may possess a living soul. A soul that never moved on to the netherworld." Joe's eyes seemed to glow. Ken now thought Joe was a real whacko. Laura served dinner. Being a stock broker Ken bored them with finance stories and his holdings. He obsessively tried to pursuade Joe invest his money in selected tech stocks. Eventually Joe got a word in. "What do you think of this artist's work?" It was an painting of nude men and women, sinking into graves--screaming. "The artist killed himself," Laura added. "Slit his own throat and then painted a full canvas, using his own blood before he fell dead. I think you can see the inevitability of his fate in his work." "To be honest--torture and brutality must have some place in the art world, but I prefer to my dinner in scenic tranquility." Tina thought Ken was being his usual rude self, but she knew to keep quiet. He'd only become vengeful toward her. "Laura sold two short stories this month." "Terrific," Ken said with particular enthusiasm. "Did Joe collaborate with you?" Tina asked. "Not with those," Joe answered. "But we do dream up sick scenarios together. Serial killers. Supernatural terrors. Weird events. Sexual predators that lust for human suffering." "The competition for new and inventive stories is fierce," Laura added. What she chose not to share with her guests was their dark perversions. Years ago it began with practical jokes. She put a dead mouse in his lunch bag, between two slices of white bread with mayonnaise. He retaliated by feigning his own hanging in the den; his purple make up was perfect. She didn't stop trembling for days. Then, she retaliated by placing a harmless snake in the medicine cabinet. He nearly had a heart attack. A week later he retaliated by leaping out of the bedroom closet wearing a Michael Meyer's mask-- wielding a knife. Opening a closet brought some lingering trepidation for her. Eventually bored with those games they began to experiment with pain and self inflicted wounds. They drank blood. Sado-masochistic sexual encounters followed; Joe nearly strangled her to death one New Year's Eve during multiple orgasms; she nearly drowned him in the hot tub while he was doing her under the water. Unfortunately, thrills ebbed too quickly and new thrills must be dreamt up. Danger was the new thrill. Reality the catalyst. "Do you ever fear you'd act on your . . . ?" "Fantasies?" Laura answered. "Sometimes Joe and I are so into horror that the boundaries between reality and fantasy become blurred. But I believe we are all capable of inflicting terrible crimes against innocent people. A soldier for love of country. A religious zealot for the love of God. A lover's obsession to possess the unattainable. A serial killer for the mental pleasure of his perversion. If not murder were not unlawful, it would be commonplace. Don't you agree?" "I guess." Tina shrugged sheepishly. After dinner, more wine was served in the living
room. They were all tipsy. "Okay, open the package. I'm dying of curiosity,"
Laura insisted. "That's it?" Laura said, seemingly unimpressed. The Hurley's stared at it. "What I'm going to tell you is true. I swear. As I browsed through the shop, the urn held no interest for me, yet--I felt an urge to pick it up. It was as if something or someone was directing my subconscious." He sipped his wine. "The shop owner, an old hag with withered mottled flesh said it was hundreds of years old, and probably contained cremation ashes, but she couldn't verify it." "Whose?" Laura asked. "No one knows. But--this is what makes it so fantastic. After I purchased it she tells me the ashes are cursed. That at night she often hears moaning and howling coming from inside it. . . . I sensed the old woman was glad to be rid of it." Thunder cracked loudly. Tina flinched. "So?" Laura asked, grinning slyly. Joe knew what she wanted him to do. "I'm not opening it. . . . no way." "Why not?" Her rich lips pouted. "Because I don't fool with curses--that's why. The dead should rest in peace." "You're being ridiculous. I hope you didn't pay more than five dollars for it." "Laugh if you want," Joe said seriously, "but I'm not unleashing the forces of evil in our home." "It's probably filled with saw dust." Laura picked it up. "Open it," Tina blurted out, tensely. "I'll be fun. Who knows--maybe something valuable is inside?" For acceptance she would say what anyone else hoped she say. Joe raised his voice. "I'm serious. Leave it the hell alone!" Laura ignored him. She gritted her teeth. "Well, here goes." She grabbed hold of the stopper and with all her might twisted and twisted and--pulled it off. Laura's eyes burst wide. She stiffened. Gasping loudly, she jerked backwards as if hit by an imaginary canon shell in the chest. The urn flew out of her hands and shattered on the floor. The three spectators watched in stunned silence. "Laura, are you alright?" Tina asked, skittishly. She shook her arm. Catching her breath, her eyes slowly opened. She looked at the three people as if strangers. "Where am I?" she demanded--speaking with a English accent, but not refined. "Who are thee?" "Good acting job," Joe said. "Bravo!" Hostility blazed in her eyes. "I don't think she's kidding," Tina said to Joe. Ken gave a displeased shake of his head, thinking his wife an idiot. Sneering malignantly, she stared at the torture motif of the room. "What evil do thee practice here? Am I in purgatory?" Tina was twitching more noticeably. Laughing. "Okay, fun and games are over. You've impressed our guests with your acting skills. It's enough." Joe's wife stood up and walked about the room. She looked in a mirror and seemed stunned by the unfamiliar refection. The strange clothing. Flaring with rage. "What trickery have thee performed? What sorcery? What evil do thee against me?" She shied away from them. "I think she's possessed your wife, Joe" Tina said emphatically. "Who are you?" Sneering. "I am Katherine. Katherine Crumb of Nottingham." "Oh, God!" Joe cried out. "What has she done!" he moaned. Tina was breathless. She hissed at them. Joe mustered all his strength. "Katherine, we have done nothing to you. Your soul was in that urn. When my wife opened the urn." He bit his upper lip. "You took possession of her body." "Liar!" she snarled menacingly. "Sorcerers!" "We're not fucking sorcerers. I'm her husband." He controlled his rage, poorly. She looked at the Hurleys. "Friends," Tina said, presenting a genuine smile. "We had nothing to do with you being in the urn. Nothing." Ken was not amused by this game. "Katherine, how did you end up in the urn?" Joe asked as a believer. Thinking. "I remember the blackness." "Who were you?" Tina asked. "Men paid me four shillings to have the pleasure of me body." "You were a prostitute?" "Yes, as me mother before me." "Why were you cremated? Did you have the plague?" Joe asked. Snickering. "I was burnt at the stake. The bishop called me witch and showed me no mercy cause I killed me a priest--put a dagger through his evil heart, I did. But it was he that was evil. Put his cold fingers around me throat as he come in me. It was self defense. I swear on me mother's soul!" "What year were you born?" Tina asked in earnest. "1343." "That was nearly six hundred and fifty years ago," Joe figured out. Tina was enthralled by the reality of this woman's existence. "Well, this is very interesting. And I truly feel bad for your fate," Joe said, "but you'll have to leave my wife's body now." "That is strange. I do hear someone within me." Listening. Suddenly angry. "What black magic is this?" Her eyes darted about. She grabbed a sword off the wall and held pointed it at Joe. "Get thee away! I will take my leave of thee. Begone demons!" Joe's laugh mocked her. "You're not in England--you're in America. Six thousand miles from your country and centuries into the future!" Snarling. "I do not believe a word thee say." She went to leave. Joe yelled forcefully. "You're not leaving with my wife's body. It's not yours!" Without warning, she swung the sword and caught him in the shoulder. Joe shrieked in pain. And fell back. Fortunately, the edge was dull and only caused a minor gash under his shirt--blood was soaking through. That stunned Ken. Tina gasped. She came at Joe again, but he ducked, twisted around, and tackled her. "Leave me be! Get off of me!" she shrieked like a trapped animal. Joe barked orders, struggling to keep hold of her. "Ken, go into the kitchen. Under the sink is rope. Tina--in the drawer next to the sink should be a scissor. Hurry!" Reacting to his urgency they hurried into the kitchen, returning in seconds. Ken helped Joe bind her hands and feet. Joe gagged her. "What are you going to do?" Tina asked near hysterical. "I don't know? But I have to do something." "You better tend to that wound," Ken suggested to Joe. Joe looked at his bloody arm. "Gee!" "Maybe she needs a priest for an exorcism?" Tina said, unable to catch her breath. Ken looked at Joe's wife writhing on the floor. "Don't get me wrong, but I think your wife needs a fucking psychiatrist." Breathing deeply. Ignoring Ken. He spoke to Tina. "I don't know? But I have to do something. I just want my wife back." Tears dripped down his cheek. Tina tended to Joe's wound while they discussed a plan. Tina suggested they call the police, but Ken played the pragmatist. "What would we say--the soul of a whore from the Middle Ages is possessing my wife? They'll think we're crazy or high on drugs. Think of something else." Thunder cracked. The storm was edging closer. Taking a deep breath. "Look, it's too late
to do anything tonight," Joe said, "maybe we should go to sleep and figure out
what to do in the morning." "Ken, do you mind helping me take her up to my bedroom. I'll babysit her." After Ken helped Joe, then he and his wife retired to the guest room. Three in the morning Joe entered the guest room with a flashlight in hand. He shook Ken's shoulder. Ken leaped up, ghost white from the abrupt shock. "What's wrong?" "She's escaped." "You got to be kidding?" "She pretended to be Laura, and I stupidly believed her. After I untied her hands she hit me over the head with a lamp. When I awoke she was gone. I need your help to find her." He handed him a flashlight. "The storm has knocked out the power." "Maybe we should wait until morning. How far can she get in the dark?" Panicky. "Jesus, she's got my wife!" Tina sat up, groggy. "Ken, you have to help him." Against his better judgment, Ken reluctantly got out of bed. They left Tina. Joe suggested to save time that Ken search the house, and he'd search the property, which was six wooded acres. Ken began his half hearted search in the dark basement, which was crammed with furniture and old junk thrown about in different rooms. Spooky and dank, he was more concerned about a deranged woman plunging a knife in his back than demon spirits--as far as he was concerned they were just amusing folklore for children and morons. However, after a brief search in the creepy blackness, he got himself out of there. Back upstairs he walked through the kitchen, and dining room. She wasn't there. Upstairs were three bedrooms and a bathroom. Ken checked the bedroom on the far left first. It was empty. He went into the master bedroom and bathroom. Nothing. In the last bedroom he saw several candles burning on the dresser. He thought that odd. The door creaked, closing behind him. Ken's heart leaped up his throat when he saw Laura standing in the room. She looked sensational. "Are you a prince? A knight? Or a sorcerer?" Breathless, he quickly grasped the game and her intentions. "I am whomever you want me to be, babe." "You have a kind face. Will you help me?" "That depends." She unbuttoned her blouse and skirt and let them fall to the floor. She wore no panties or bra. In the dim amber light her sensual body glowed shameless. Her breasts were hefty. "If I please thee, will you help me?" She came up to him and kissed him hard on the lips. He did not resist. "Babe, think of me as your knight in
shining armor." He flashed a toothy grin, thinking what a foxy bitch, letting her
husband frantically search the woods in the rain, while she had a torrid liaison with her
friend's husband. Breathless. Sweating. Grinding. Ken was lost in the erotic moment. Yet, his eyes instinctively opened when she held the dagger above his head. "Ye are a devil. And must die!" Her eyes blazed demonic. Ken convulsed in absolute terror, but when she didn't plunge the knife into his chest, the final truth was revealed. Sex and horror. He laughed. "I love it!" But Ken was mistaken. He had misjudged her nature. Seconds from orgasm she plunged the dagger into his neck, twisted, and pulled it out. Ken writhed in pain and horror. Real horror! His blood leaped into the amber light, drenching her ivory flesh. She kept stabbing his throat with the same power and rhythm as their humping. His death wails resonated through the walls of the house. Glorious orgasms erupted. With terror engulfing her, Tina rushed out of the guest room. It was Ken's harrowing screams--she was certain. The house was dark. And ominously still. She was about to call out for her husband when Joe rushed into the house. Her heart freaked. "Where's Ken?" Tina asked, terrified of a horrific answer that he was dead. "I don't know. I heard screams. She must have killed him!" "Ken! Ken! Ken!" she screamed out. Tears ran down burning cheeks. "We have to find my husband! He could be hurt!" "She's obviously quite dangerous. We need to get away before she kills us!" "No! I'm not leaving without my husband!" He grasped her hand and pulled her. "We have to save ourselves!" Suddenly, Laura emerged from the kitchen. Joe aimed the flashlight at her. Nude. Drenched in blood. Malignant energy emanating from satanic eyes, she held up Ken's severed head. And laughed fiendishly. Tina shrieked from the deepest bowels in her freaking body. Laura edged forward. Flashing a perverse grin. "I must kill you now--sweet Tina." She lifted the knife, oozing with Ken's blood. Tina face went bloodless--she fainted. Tina was startled awake from the pain in her
joints and throat. She went to sit up, but she couldn't. With consciousness she felt the
leather bindings on her feet, hands and neck, and knew that she was on some kind of Waiting ten minutes, Joe came out of the darkness and stood next to her, looking down at his helpless victim. Tina saw the true evil in his demonic being as he caressed her warm silky hair. Her pulsating throat. Her trembling fleshy breasts and thighs. Her sweltering vagina. She squirmed to his touch, choking on her terror. "Joe, please don't hurt me. You need help. And Laura too. Please let me go!" "Feel free to scream. There is no humiliation." He slowly cranked the handle. The ropes went taut. Her body stretched inches. The clanking sound and pain had her screaming. "Sweet Tina the pain will seize and dominate all your senses. If you are fortunate, before you die, madness will subdue your torment." He cranked the handle. The leather garotte cut into her supple flesh--her strangled pleading was an incredible turn on. He cranked the rack four more rachet settings. Tina was stretched taught. Bones creaked. Her eyes bulged out of their tiny sockets. Arteries burst in the white of her eyes. Inarticulate spittle deposed violent shrieks from behind her protruding tongue. She jerked about like a mechanized rag doll gone berserk. Joe's erection was hard. He got on top of her and raped the tortured soul. As much as he loved his wife, this was the best orgasm he had experienced in some time, maybe ever. As a birthday gift Laura shot the video from the doorway. After an hour of excruciating torment, he cranked the handle until her head tore from her body--sailing through the air as if a shooting star with a crimson tail. For two hours Laura and Joe basked in their adrenalin rush, drinking champagne, expressing every grisly and erotic thought and feeling they had--leading to, during, and after the murders. The severed heads, fixed in agonizing horror sat next to them on the floor like loyal pets. Just before day break, they had the boring tasks of covering up the murder. Joe dumped the Hurleys into six foot deep graves he had dug weeks ago in the far corner of their wooded property. Laura took a shower to wash off all the dried blood and sweat from her body, and then bagged the Hurley's possessions, her clothes, the sheets, plastic mattress protector, clear plastic tarps, pillows and the Hurley's heads. She mopped up blood and wiped down all the furniture for fingerprints. When Joe returned he took a shower and they left the house with the bags. Joe drove the Hurley's car back to their
neighborhood, and Laura followed in their truck. Though they know they'd be the last
people the police would ever suspect in the Hurley's disappearance; they still remained
compulsive in Returning home Joe and Laura ate quiche for lunch, and then began to jointly write a short story of their fantastic evening with a renewed writing passion. The Hurley's disappearance remained unsolved. The landlord was suspected but never charged. Bruce Stevens is a published writer, having had short stories featured on the web in Dragon Soup E-zine and Anotherealm E-zine. June 2000 HofP |