After Life (21 page)

a thick, red, pulsating penis, its opening dilating as it swelled.

With her inner vision, she saw that his legs were like the legs of a

goat with cloven feet. Hanging down under his crotch and just visible

was a thick, hairy tail.

She screamed and backed away with all her strength, breaking his hold on

her temples. Even so, the picture that had been sent into her mind

remained vivid. She screamed again and lifted her arms protectively

over her face, but his hands, with their long, crooked fingers and

strands of hair growing out of the palms, caressed her breasts. Some

drool fell from his thick, wormy lips. His teeth were black and his

tongue writhed like a small, pink snake.

She screamed once more, this time her voice reaching a shrill, high

pitch that was painful to her own ears. It didn't drive him back. It

seemed to bring a smile to his raw face, a face that appeared skinless,

the blue veins drawing road maps over his cheeks and forehead.

She wanted to push his hands off her bosom, but when she touched his

arms, they felt revolting, sticky and wet like flypaper. Her fingers

became atached, rendering her helpless. His fingers unfastened her

blouse and peeled it away from her breasts. They unclipped her bra and

lifted it up and over her bosom, and then he lowered those twisting,

squirming lips to her nipples and the snakelike tongue slithered over

them, first the right and then the left.

She wasn't screaming anymore, at least not aloud.

Her screams were turned inward and trapped in an echo chamber in her

mind. It made her dizzy. She passed out and regained consciousness a

number of times while her skirt was being lifted and her panties

lowered. She felt herself being shoved and adjusted so that he could

bring that thumping phallus to her vaginal lips. There, it rested,

throbbed, waited, poised for entry.

Trapped beneath this slime, her arms and hands rendered helpless, her

body in a vise like grip, she waited, anticipating a most horrible

violation. But he was still.

The only movement was the rhythmic nudging of his gross penis against

her, an erotic prying, urging her to open and welcome it. She held

herself tight, her body locked in firm resistance. The drool that fell

from his lips splattered on hers and some of it found its way into her

mouth, leaving a sweet and salty taste. She gagged, but she couldn't

prevent it from flowing down her throat.

While his body remained pressed down on her she could feel the black

hairs tickling her skin. His breath was so hot, she felt she was on the

verge of being burned.

Jessie, he finally said. The word echoed in her mind as if it had

bypassed her ears, as if it had emerged from someplace within her.

Jessie.

She shook her head to deny it, but it wouldn't be denied. It demanded

her attention.

Jessie, I can offer you restored sight. I can heal you.

I can make you a whole woman again, beautiful and bright. I can give

you health and happiness for as long as you want. All you have to do is

want, want me, open to me, welcome me. I'll bring you to a height

you've never before reached.

The pulsating phallus thickened between her thighs. It pressed and

pried harder, but she held on.

NO! she screamed.

Jessie, Lee will soon be mine. You don't want him to leave you behind.

Join him; join us. See again. Live a full life. Open to me, he

pleaded. Open to me.

Open to him, a chorus of voices within her chanted.

Open to him.

No, she said weakly. She was opening. The tip of that thick penis grew

warmer and warmer. She felt herself softening. His drool fell faster;

the stench of him crawled up her nostrils, making her mind spin.

Her legs were starting to part. Her spine was relaxing.

He brought his mouth to her breasts again and sucked, that reptile like

tongue extending and lifting. Her head was falling back.

Surrender and you will see again, he promised.

Surrender.

The penis was crawling in like a plump little rodent, twitching from

side to side, squirming, thickening....

NOOOOO! she cried with one desperate surge of resistance. JESUS, NO!

JESUS, HELP ME! HELP

ME!

The words washed him back. The grotesque phallus shrank rapidly and

retreated. His body lifted from hers and her fingers broke free of his

sticky and pasty skin.

She screamed again and again until all the lights that had been turned

on inside her mind went out. Wave after wave of soft, gauze like light

replaced it. It drifted over and over her. It made her feel safe and

she relaxed.

All was quiet, still. It had ended.

The ringing of the telephone awakened her. She sat up slowly, unsure

for a moment where she was. Her groping hands informed her she was in

the living room on the sofa. The phone rang on. She leaned over to

grasp the receiver and ran her right palm over her forehead at the same

time.

Jess?

It was Lee. For a moment she couldn't speak. It was as if the wires

running from her mind to her tongue were burned out. The words were

stuck somewhere in between. Her lips began to tremble and then finally

she made a short, guttural sound.

Jess? You there? Lee asked.

Yes, she croaked. At least that's how it sounded to her. She had been

turned into a frog. The thought put her into a panic and she dropped

the receiver and began running her hands up and down her body,

confirming that she still had legs and arms and breasts. She was still

a woman, but after what she had just been through, nothing would have

surprised her.

Lee's voice cried out in mechanical tones For a moment she hallucinated

him as tiny and trapped in the receiver. She clutched it quickly and

brought it back to her ear and mouth.

LEE! she cried.

What is it, honey? What's going on?

LEE! She started to cry.

Jessie, talk to me, honey. Is Dr. Beezly still there?

What's going on? Jessie Lee, she said in tones more recognizable. Her

voice was returning. I was almost raped. Maybe I was. I'm not even

sure. There, she had gotten it out. The horror was put into words.

What? When? How? I'm hanging up, he added quickly. I'll be right

there. Have you phoned the police?

The police can't help, she said softly, and shook her head. In fact,

the thought of the police coming suddenly made her laugh.

Jessie?

She laughed again and again. Tears began streaming down her cheeks.

The police? she said, and laughed on until she had to drop the phone.

Once again Lee' s voice sounded tiny, mechanical. Then her laughter

turned to sobs, long, hard sobs that made her draw in air so quickly it

brought an ache to her lungs. She embraced herself and crouched over to

stop the pain, but it wouldn't end.

Lee's voice stopped, and after a few moments there was a monotonous hum

coming from the receiver in her lap. She threw it off, the hard plastic

implement bouncing on the rug, away from her.

Suddenly it occurred to her that she might not be alone. That he might

still be here. He could even be in the room, sitting across from her,

smiling and watching.

The thought sent a chilling wave of fear through her body. Her limbs

grew soft and weak. She listened. Was that the sound of heavy

breathing?

Are you here? she asked, but there was no reply.

Slowly, fearfully, she stood up. Her legs wobbled. Where would she go?

What was a safe haven? Surely no place in the apartment was.

She took her first steps, nearly tottering as she did so.

She clutched herself tightly and waited for the dizziness to pass,

listening keenly. That was definitely the sound of heavy breathing; he

was still here, watching her, waiting.

Flustered, she spun around, indecisive about what direction to take.

Once again she thought it wasn't safe anywhere in the house, and so she

groped her way to the front door and seized the knob. Was that

laughter?

She didn't wait to find out. She turned the knob and stepped into the

entryway. The moment she did so, she heard the shuffle, those horrible

footsteps. Now he was coming down the stairs . . . slide, step,

slide, step.

She lunged ahead and ran her hands over the large front door until she

found the knob. In moments she

turned it and burst out, forgetting the distance between the door and

the steps. Unfortunately she missed the top step and went tumbling

down, slapping her shoulder hard on the slate walkway. The fall left

her stunned for a few moments. Then she distinctly heard the front door

being opened again.

She got to her hands and knees quickly and thrust herself forward until

she was on her feet again. In her panic, however, she had lost her

sense of direction, lost the image of the front of the house she had

memorized so well. Terrified she would run into something or fall off

of something, she froze after going only a few feet.

She heard him behind her on the porch. She heard him take the first

step and then the second.

HELP! she screamed, and turned. HELP! SOME ONE, HELP ME! She spun

around and extended her arms. The spinning caused her to lose her

footing and she fell on the grass. For a few moments she simply lay

there crying. She heard him coming toward her, but she was too tired

and too confused to flee. She lay there, waiting, sobbing. He was

right beside her. For a moment he just stood there looking down at her.

Then, to her surprise and relief, he continued on, away from her, moving

toward the street.

She pressed her face to the grass and relaxed her body. That was where

Patrolmen Burt Peters and Greg Daniels found her when they arrived.

Lee's panicked phone call had brought them running. Siren blaring and

bubble light spinning, they were at the DeGroot house minutes later.

Mrs. Overstreet? Burt said, taking her arm and urging her to try to

stand. It's the police, Mrs. Overstreet.

Jessie raised her head from the grass.

Your husband will be here any moment, ma'am, Greg said. Why don't you

try to stand and we'll go into the house, okay?

Is he gone? she asked.

Who, ma'am? Burt asked.

Satan, she said.

The patrolmen looked at each other.

Yes, ma'am, Greg said quickly. There's no one here but us.

She let them help her to her feet.

Are you hurt, ma'am? Burt asked. Can you walk?

I can walk. she said. They led her to the steps. Just as they reached

the front door Lee pulled up. He charged out of his car and ran up the

walk.

Jessie! he cried, coming up behind them. She turned and threw her arms

around his neck. Immediately she began to sob. He began to comfort her

by kissing her forehead and cheeks and stroking her hair.

We found her outside, lying on the lawn, sir, Burt said. She doesn't

appear seriously injured.

Let's go inside, Jess, Lee coaxed gently. Come on, honey. Inside. He

tried to pull her arms off his neck, but she wouldn't relinquish her

hold, so he scooped her up and carried her through the door. Greg

opened their apartment door for him and Lee carried her to the sofa.

Burt Peters surged forward and put the telephone back on the side table.

After Lee lowered Jessie gently to the sofa, he sat down beside her and

held her hand.

I'll get a wet washcloth, sir, Greg said.

Down the corridor on the right. Thanks.

Maybe I should just look around a bit, Burt suggested Lee nodded.

Jessie, he said. She looked unconscious. Finally her head turned and

she took a deep breath. It's all right now, honey. It's okay. Tell me

what happened, Jess.

Greg Daniels returned with the washcloth and Lee wiped the grass stains

and mud off her face. Then he folded the cloth and placed it over her

forehead. She seemed revived.

Nothing looks unusual in the apartment, Burt reported. No windows

broken, nothing messed up.

Lee nodded and turned back to Jessie.

Honey, the police are here with us. Tell them what happened.

Dr. Beezly, she muttered.

Yes? What about Dr. Beezly, Jess?