Authors: Sephera Giron
Natasha nodded, and the heated room turned cool once again. “Yes, you can sleep with me,” she said as Madeline climbed under the covers with her.
“I'm freaking,” Madeline said.
“It's okay,” Natasha replied. “Nothing is going to harm you. I promise.”
Madeline whimpered as Natasha stroked her hair. From downstairs, there was crashing sound of dishes being broken.
“There's going to be some mess to clean up tomorrow,” Natasha tried to joke.
“I'm not even going to go down to look. Not 'til morning, anyway,” Madeline said. “It's okay. We'll come back with a team. I'm sure next time will be better for you,”
Natasha said. “Now go to sleep.”
She snuggled in beside Madeline and held the shivering girl until her breathing became more regular. At last, she was asleep.
Natasha turned off the light and quickly fell asleep herself.
The next time they came to the house, things would be different. Edwin's satisfied presence in the corner assured her of that.
In the meantime, her hunger grew.
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Get out and meet new people.
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Natasha and Maggie Go Cruising
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“I thought you had a new boyfriend,” Natasha said as Maggie slid into the seat across from her. Maggie's exuberance was spilling from her as she shrugged off her coat in the small wooden chair.
“He's really a great guy,” Maggie said as she reached for a menu.
“I told you,” Natasha replied, tipping a glass of red wine toward herself. “He's the one.”“I don't know why,” Maggie said. “There's something there. And he's so passionate.”“Who would have thought?” Natasha smirked. “Didn't I tell you? Not everyone jumps into bed on the first date.”
“I know. I always knew that. But I'm good now,” Maggie said and turned her attention to the waitress who came over to take her order.
“A pint of Amber Brew,” she said. The waitress nodded and bopped away in time to the beat of the old Stones song that vibrated through the bar.
Natasha sighed.
“So if he's so great, why are you out here with me?” Natasha asked.
“He's going to play darts with some friends, and, quite frankly, I'm not so big on the darts,” Maggie said.
“I can understand that.” Natasha winked and watched a conversation unfolding at the bar. She couldn't hear what was being said, but a foggy mist settled over the top of the men and hovered. When she was younger, she thought such mists were the cigarette smoke that hung thick in the air before the no-smoking laws took effect. However, long after smoking was banned in public places, she was still able to see thick puffs of smoke hovering above people.
The smoke or mist was nothing to be feared. It was the watchful souls of those who had passed on yearning to send messages to their loved ones.
Natasha could focus on them one at a time and understand what they were trying to say. She'd learned long ago not to pass along the messages unless it was in a controlled setting.
The results were too unpredictable.
So while Maggie prattled on about her clients at the flea market, Natasha watched as the blond man's grandmother tried to get his attention to tell him about the hidden deed in the barn. At times like this, Natasha yearned to march over to the person and tell him about the message, especially when it was so obviously needed, judging by the way the young man dressed.
But in the past, when Natasha had tried to pass along such messages, there had been problems.
The last thing she needed was more problems.
“Who was that guy you were dancing with all night on New Year's Eve?” Maggie asked. Natasha jerked her attention back to Maggie.
“I'm sorry,” Natasha said. “âThe guy'? Gus? I introduced you.”
“No. I mean where did you meet? You never did say. You came together.”“No, I didn't.” Natasha smiled. “And now is not the time to tell the story.”“Now I'm really intrigued,” Maggie said. “Tell me.”
“Shh.” Natasha put a finger to her lips. Her smile was secretive as she shook her head slowly. “Not now.”
Maggie's beer came, and their chatter turned to the men in the room.
“Those two guys at the bar look lonely. Let's go talk to them,” Maggie said as she drained the last of her beer.
“Maggie. You like Weldon, remember?” Natasha scolded mockingly.
“I can talk to other guys, can't I? I would expect him to talk to other girls.”
“Honestly?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.
“Why not?” Maggie said as she waved at the waitress to bring another round. “No harm in talking.”
Natasha followed her over to the bar, and before long, they were engulfed in conversation
The blond guy, Pete, drank his beer nonchalantly, unaware of his grandmother's frantic, eternal wailing for his attention just above his head. The granny's shrieks seared through Natasha's head, and she could barely hear Pete's question.
“I'm Natasha,” she said coolly, sticking out her hand. “I know you're Pete and that your grandmother loved you.”
“No shit,” Pete said.
“Well, your friend told me your name.”
“No, my grandma. She died about three months ago.”
“Were you close?”
“Yeah, I lived with her since I was three.”
“Here in Hermana?”
“Yeah, just on the outskirts of town.”
“The old Jessop place?”
“That's the one.”
Natasha looked above him once more.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” she asked. The deeper she fell into connection with Granny, the hungrier she became. Her teeth itched, and her gaze fell from the swirling cloud above him to the throbbing vein his neck. She licked her lips and returned her dark-eyed gaze to his blue one.
“I sometimes think she's around,” he said. “I wouldn't say that if I wasn't in this town, if you know what I mean.”
“Sure.” She nodded, wishing the gnawing rumble in her stomach would go away. “Natasha,” Maggie said, “do you want to go dancing at the Cave?”
“Right now?” Natasha said.
“It's not that late,” Maggie said. “And no work in the morning for either of us. Heck, I pity those who do have to work, the way the snow's been coming down.”
“Well, I guess,” Natasha said, hoping the Cave would prove a distraction for another night before she'd have to feed again.
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The night went well, and the boys danced with the girls until the lights came on. Natasha was relieved that between the loud music and the dancing, Granny didn't have the energy to hang around.
As everyone piled on layers of clothes at the coat check, Maggie impulsively kissed Tom on the cheek.
“Goodnight.”
Natasha gave her a steely-eyed stare. Once they were far enough down the sidewalk from the men, Natasha playfully punched Maggie in the arm.
“What were you thinking? Kissing him like that?”
“What? It was a goodnight kiss. So what?”
“So, you like this Weldon guy?” Natasha said sarcastically.
“So?”
“You've had sex with Weldon.”
“Again, so what?”
“You know what I'm trying to say.”
“Christ, Natasha, I didn't fuck him. I kissed him goodnight. I do that to lots of people, including you.”
“It was more than a kiss. You didn't fuck him in the bathroom, did you?”
“No.”
Natasha stared at her. “I hope not. Weldon's a good guy. Give him a chance. Jeez, you'd think you'd last a month!”
“Hey, he's the one who went out with his buddies.”
“And he probably really is playing darts and shooting the shit with his buddies, not dirty-dancing with some girl he barely knows.”
“So, I'm bad.” Maggie sighed guiltily.
“I wouldn't love you if you weren't bad.” Natasha laughed. “Just be careful. And give it a chance.”
“I'll listen.”
The women walked on in silence until they reached Maggie's building. They hugged and kissed each other goodnight. She climbed the huge stone staircase as Natasha continued down the street in silence.
The snow was falling in thick clumps, and she was glad she wore heavy hiking boots while carrying her shoes in a leather knapsack.
As she turned down the dark, narrow street toward her home, she was aware of footsteps behind her. She knew not to be afraid as she turned around.
“Pete,” she said, staring at the young man who had a floating mist above his head. “You startled me.”
“Sorry about that. “
“What are you doing? Are you following me?” she asked. The cloud swarm grew larger above his head, and soon Natasha was hypnotized by the shrieking chaos from within.
“Yes, I had to know about what you said.”“What did I say?”
“About my grandmother. It's like she's here now and I have to talk to you.”
A wave of relief swept through Natasha. She held out her mittened hands to Pete's gloved ones.
As their fingers linked, the granny's shrieks flooded through both of them. Peter jolted back.
“Stop yelling,” Natasha said. “I can hear you.” The wailing stopped. Natasha smiled. “Okay, we're listening.”
Pete cocked his head. “I can't hear anything.”
“It's okay. I can.” Natasha listened as Granny gave careful instructions on how Pete was to find the deed. As Natasha started to relay the message, Pete's eyes grew wide.
“How do you know these things? Have you been there?”
“No, she's telling me.” Natasha continued with the details, and Pete listened in silence. At last, his grandmother was finished with her message and dissolved happily back into nothing.
“Wow, that was intense. She's gone now, right?” Pete said. “Yes. What did you experience?”
“Just feelings. I couldn't hear her like you could, but I could feel her. “
“Yes, feeling is part of it. One day the voices come to some of us. Not the best gift to have, but not the worst either.”
The hunger in her swelled, and she was glad they were dressed so heavily.
“I gotta go. Thanks, Natasha!” Pete bounded off down the street. Natasha walked on and listened as his footsteps faded. There was little sound from the streets save the humming of electrical wires. Not many people favored being out in snow like this.
As Natasha continued on, there was the distant roar like that of a wild animal and a muffled shriek, and then all was still again. Probably a wolf getting a rabbit, she thought, but something inside her said it wasn't so.
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Be careful and don't take foolish chances.
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Hunger
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The hunger was strong that day. From the moment she had awakened, it was clear the piddly sips here and there weren't going to appease her much longer. It was time for a road trip.
Natasha threw a suitcase into the car and drove into Boston. After she checked into the cheapest chain hotel she could find, she changed into a black PVC catsuit with thigh-high boots and elbow-length gloves. She looped chains around her narrow waist and hooked a small, black flogger to one of them. Large quantities of charcoal around her eyes and giant fake eyelashes gave her a dangerous look. As she painted her lips burgundy, she hoped the club would be busy.
Before she left, she covered the bed with several sets of large, old towels she had brought from home.
Her wish was granted as she walked down the stairs toward glass doors. The vibration of the music through her stiletto boots filled her with anticipation. She paid the cover charge, checked her coat and entered the club. It was as she remembered it from her last visit a few months earlier. The entrance emptied into one large room where there was a full-sized stage, a bar and a giant dance floor already full of gyrating, leather-clad bodies. Lit doorways reassured her that the playrooms were open.
Natasha bought a drink at the bar and stood taking in the scene around her. Pieces of equipment were against the walls. Around the room, people were playing on a spank table, a bench, an electric chair and other similar devices.
The steady smacking of leather against bare asses blended with the heavy-bass techno music. Natasha sipped her beer and walked on, grinning at the stares she received from men and women alike.
A shadow flitted across of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and spotted a man walking away from her down the hall. A tingle swept through her. That sickening sense of unease rushed back and then was gone just as quickly.
Coolly, she walked down one of the hallways, where several small rooms branched off on either side. The first room was empty. A woman in the second room was kneeling on a mattress, giving a man a blowjob. The third had a medical table where several people poked and prodded a naked, handcuffed girl.
The fourth room caught her attention. It was a bit bigger, and inside there was a big X. A man was shackled, wrist and ankle, to all four arms of the construction. Two women took turns flogging him. One wore leather shorts and a leather bra. The other wore a PVC corset and a tiny PVC skirt. Both ladies wore fishnets and tall platform shoes. Another couple sat to the side watching the scene.
Natasha knew the couple, though physically sitting together, wasn't together emotionally. He was a loner. His gaze shifted from the scene and toward her. His lost, lonely eyes told her that he was the one.
She carefully made her way past the flogging girls and sat down beside the man. As she watched the flogging continue, he spoke.
“Lovely evening for a flogging, isn't it?” he asked with a grin. Natasha smiled widely.
“It most certainly is.” The man stood up so she could fully appreciate him. He wore a leather skirt, a slave collar and large leather wrist shackles. Silver buckles and D-rings glinted in the light. A long, heavy chain hung down his neck.