Fallen Stones (38 page)

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Authors: Thomas M. Malafarina

BOOK: Fallen Stones
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And to make matters worse, their love life was suffering as well. There was a time, not all that long ago, when Jason couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her; but now that had changed too. By the time he finally got home from work, Jason was exhausted, mentally stressed, and it seemed that lately sex was the furthest thing from his mind. Stephanie had done all she could think of to keep herself in shape and to keep Jason interested, but nothing seemed to work lately. The various self-help stories she read in various women's magazines about rejuvenating their love life had proven useless as well.

For the briefest of moments during one of her dreary days of solitude, when her mind chose to wander to one of those places it had no business going, she began to feel the slightest stab of concern or perhaps suspicion about Jason. She had even started to imagine that Jason might not be working as much as he claimed, but might instead be involved with another woman, perhaps someone at work. She didn't believe it was possible for someone as devoted as Jason to become caught up in such a thing. But she also knew it had happened to her before with her first husband, Bill, and that time she had been caught her completely by surprise. "Once Bitten, Twice Shy" she recalled the title of the song she had once heard by the band Great White.

Maybe it could be happening to her again. She hated when she had those sorts of thoughts and tried to force them from her mind. She blamed them on too much spare time; too much time to think and to imagine the worst. Maybe it was also from her reading too many articles in too many women's magazines. But hadn't Jason also seemed somewhat different lately? Didn't he seem distant, distracted and even short tempered with the kids? Had she been imagining that too?

“It's time,” the dark sinister voice said to Marie Livingston as she stared angrily out at the contemplating Stephanie from inside her world, inside the mirror. The voice had not been so much spoken as it had simply appeared in what she still thought of as her mind, as the voice always did. There was no need for speech or for such traditional types of communications in the foul place she now resided. She didn't understand how she and the others communicated, they just did. They of course, no longer had physical brains or organs with which to generate speech or for that matter to hear the speech if generated, yet somehow they could understand and differentiate each other's thoughts as if they had been spoken aloud.  And as such, she knew this latest communication had come from her husband.

“Time?” she questioned. “Time for what?” she wondered absently. She had been so intently staring at her descendent that she had not heard him approach. Although, truth be told, he could and often did approach silently, whether she was actively listening for him or not.

The ‘voice' now took on a more angry tone and it seemed to reverberate deep within her as it shouted, “Why do you question me, woman?”

Marie knew she had inadvertently done something she should never have done; she had questioned the Master. “No…no…my husband. I am not questioning you,” she quickly replied. “You just caught me off guard…. I am so sorry.”

She knew she was never to question him. In life, he had been her husband, her friend, her lover, but now in death he had taken on a new roll. Marie did not understand how everything had changed, but she was certain the unforgivable acts, which brought them both to the world of the undead had somehow cursed them both. Perhaps in this hell or purgatory, the universe had chosen to assign new roles for them; Marie, the submissive servant and Dwight, the heartless and unforgiving master. Although she didn't feel the roles were justified in this or any other version of an afterlife, it was clear this was her fate and although perplexing and unexplainable, she had to do all she could do to keep her horrible existence bearable. She only hoped this was an interim step in her journey into the afterlife and not her final destination.

Whatever force had caused this to happen to her; it was how things now were and how she supposed they would be for some time. Dwight's role apparently was to do with her as he chose and to make her suffer whenever he the mood hit him. She understood she likely deserved such a fate, especially after the most heinous acts she had committed while on earth. But he had done something almost as bad, hadn't he? Often she wondered why Dwight was in the role of master while she was a mere slave. She could only hope after they were finished with the Wright family things would change and perhaps they could move on to whatever else awaited them and could hopefully do so separately. They had waited almost one hundred years for this, and she hoped the end was in sight.

“Now you know what you must do,” he commanded, “You must start putting the wheels into motion. But be sure to take it slowly. It must be gradual. They cannot suspect anything. Do everything as I have explained, and all will happen according to my plan. But the final act must take place at the prescribed time.”

Not wanting to anger him further, Marie said, “As you wish, my husband.” And she hated every word of the thought she was transmitting to him. She despised the horrible creature her husband had become. She thought she could not possibly hate him more than when he was alive but realized what he had since become was so much worse. And what she had turned into was a pathetic cowering creature. As if that was bad enough, she feared there might be no redemption for her, no escape and no end, ever.

After a moment, Marie sensed her husband's presence moving away, although he was never completely gone from her, and might never be. Now she had to do what Dwight had ordered and start a carefully orchestrated series of events in motion which like a snowball rolling down a hill would continue to grow and progress until its final climax on the designated date; December 19th; the anniversary of the deaths of their two sons and the day they had died as well.

From inside the mirror the creature, which had once been Marie Livingston, began to focus all of her concentration toward Stephanie Wright and extending her gnarled index finger out of the mirror sending out the tiniest wisp of sparkling white illumination in the direction of the unsuspecting woman. When the light reached Stephanie, it hung above her head spinning in a circular pattern resembling a small wreath, before settling down atop her head like Christ's own crown of thorns. Then the lights slowly began to seep in through the pores of Stephanie's scalp, tingling, working their way deep inside of her mind, where they were to become the first seeds of doubt, what would fester, grow and eventually become the seeds of destruction.

Stephanie's eyes opened wide, and they seemed to take on a new, intense look of suspicion and anger. Only a moment earlier she had been criticizing herself for thinking such horrible and distrustful thought about Jason. Now, however she was suddenly thinking these thoughts again and these ideas were becoming more real and potentially truer to her than ever.  She found her mind drifting back toward something, or more accurately someone. There had been a young female accountant in the financial department of the building where Jason now worked. She recalled him mentioning her once at dinner. At the time, it had seemed innocent enough; him just mentioning a coworker.

She recalled how she hadn't wanted to allow her own insecurities to make her feel jealous and did her best to try to suppress those emotions. But she knew her husband, and knew if he was taking the time to mention someone, it was for a reason. Perhaps it was simply his way of showing respect for her professional skills or perhaps it was more. God, she hated thinking that way, but it seemed lately, the less she saw of Jason on an intimate level, the more they seemed to become distant. A thought came into her mind "If he's not getting it at home, he's getting it somewhere else." She had no idea where that thought had come from, but it planted itself deep in her subconscious, and although she might forget about it superficially, it would remain and fester, never allowing her to completely forget.

She suddenly began to wonder if she might have been wrong about not being more concerned about this woman, this potential interloper. "What was that woman's name?" she thought to herself. "Jo- something. Joanne? No that wasn't it... Jolene! Yes, her name was Jolene.... Jolene Roberts. That was it."

Stephanie had only met the woman once during a visit to the office, and she had been in her estimation a "knockout". In fact, she was drop dead gorgeous, divorced and definitely looking for a pair of male slippers to put under her bed. Now Stephanie began to wonder if the woman might be setting her sights on Jason and was only keeping her distance temporarily, to bide her time until the moment was right. Stephanie could recall the feelings of personal insecurity she felt in the presence of such a confident and beautiful woman. She was certain if Jolene Roberts chose to sink her claws into Jason, it would take everything he had to resist her advances.

She decided she would begin to pay more attention to the way her husband behaved and would monitor his comings and goings more carefully. She would also try to find out more about this Jolene Roberts and find out what her intentions might be in regards to Jason. She trusted Jason, she believed in him, but she also knew how seductive some women could be. She would not allow some bimbo to ruin her marriage and break up her new family.

From behind Stephanie, another small burst of sparking light flew, encircling her head once again before settling down and sinking in through the top of her skull. Then she suddenly and abruptly changed her train of thought; this one not one relating to Jason. If fact, she had completely forgotten about Jason, Jolene, her suspicions and all or misgivings. Those things had receded into her subconscious, but they would continue to gnaw at the fibers of her brain and eventually gain a life of their own.

Stephanie suddenly felt an uncontrollable urge to go up into the attic of the main house and find a box. She could not recall seeing the box before during any of the times they had hauled junk up to the attic, but for some reason she could now see it a plain a day. It was a brown cardboard box with the initials LFH written on the front and top of it. And just as she mysteriously knew about the box, she also somehow knew what the initials meant. They stood for Livingston Family History.

The box contained the records of the genealogical research Emerson Washburn had commissioned several years ago from the private investigator. She could not understand how she knew this but she was quite certain. She had to find the box, and had to do so immediately.

"Connie?" Stephanie called to the woman dusting the atrium below. "Can you please come up here for a moment." She decided she would ask the Franks woman to wait and listen for Sammy while she went to the main house and found the box. A few minutes earlier, she wasn't sure what she would do with all of the idle time suddenly available to her, now she felt as though there weren't enough hours in the day to do what she needed to do.

Back in the shadows of the loft, the rippling mirror returned to its natural state and deep in the world on the other side of the glass could be heard an evil and sinister laugh. "It has begun," the voice said.

Chapter 25

 

Jason drove down though the hillside town of Ashton, heading back home after a late day meeting with the factory manager, Tom McClellan. Tom had been nothing but complimentary of the way Jason had transitioned into his new position as well as the manner in which he was rapidly reorganizing and restructuring the manufacturing engineering department. Tom always felt the now retired Jim Dodson had been good man and a responsible leader, but he was rooted in old methods and techniques, lacking the ability to change. He believed Jason was the "breath of fresh air" the company needed to help it continue to grow and prosper long into the future.

Jason loved his new position as well as his new responsibilities. At first, everything he attempted seemed to be a monumental task and something to be feared; but he rose to meet every challenge head on and did whatever it took to surpass any obstacle. Initially that meant long hours and an incredible amount of stress, but then the pressure gradually began to ease with each passing day as he became more acclimated to his new role.

It had been a tough couple of months, and he had been working far too many hours, feeling like he would never be able to get back to the point when he would once again have a more normal work schedule. He also knew the long hours away from home were beginning to take their toll on Stephanie as well. She had been very understanding and tolerant of his need to make a good impression in his new job, but he sensed her patience beginning to wane a bit more each day.

Now, however, he had decided things would be different. Beginning the following week, he was determined to start bringing things back to normal both at work as well as at home. This meant he would be putting in fewer hours on the job and spending more time at home with his family. The kids were all growing like weeds, and the past summer had gone by in a blur. He had decided it was time to slow down a bit and make things right with them. He had discussed this with Tom McClellan at their meeting that afternoon, and Tom agreed with Jason wholeheartedly.

In fact, it was McClellan who had actually raised the subject, telling Jason he appreciated all the hard work and additional effort he had been putting into the job, but it was time for him to slow down before he burned out. Tom, who was in his fifties and on his third wife, warned Jason of the pitfalls of putting too much into his job and not enough into his family. This observation and encouragement from Tom helped Jason to see the impending error of his ways.

Jason stopped on his trip through town and picked up a bouquet of flowers for Stephanie at local florist, and now he was trying to think of something interesting his family could do over the weekend. He knew he had to try to make things right before Stephanie's patience wore too thin. He had noticed she had become a bit distant and sometime short of temper whenever he was home. He tried to explain his need to be successful at his new position and the importance of the money in their lives. They had paid off some bills with the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, made some money on the sale of the antiques and had invested a bit then put the rest of the money into a college fund for the kids. So his salary was still their main source of income.

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