Chapter Twenty

Sera opens her eyes to the stark room. The shadows are closer this time, the chilling noise of a nearby creak making her jump. She waits for something else, her breathing getting quicker. There comes another creak, and a figment scuttles into the partial light. Sera’s heart pounds like a drum, her flat palms pressed against the cold wall behind.

She shudders at the sight of this thing, remembering how scared of them she used to be as a child. She watches as the crooked mouth quivers, creaking incessantly. Throwing her hands up to her ears, she cannot keep out the hideous sounds. Wanting to close her eyes in the hope that it would disappear, she sees it scuttle closer, and reach out to touch her...

“SERA!” She jumps upon hearing her name. Realising she’s in the storeroom at work, she looks around to make sure she’s not imagining this part.

“Pinch me.” she shouts to Stacy, not noticing the poor girl staring back at her with wide eyes.

“What?” the teenager gasps. Shaking her head, she walks away. “Weirdo.” she calls out of view. Sera sighs and smears her moist brow, relieved at her return to reality.

She canters out to the floor, almost knocking into a patron. “I do apologise!” she offers in her posh accent, not having truly disturbed him. She wanders past displays of plush pillows, shelves of vibrant scented candles, and platoons of silver photo frames adorned with random smiles.

The deputy manager, Melanie, spots Sera’s flushed face, and approaches. “Everything okay?” she whispers as a customer loiters behind them.

“Yes of course. I fell asleep for a moment, sorry if I was too long.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Melanie hushes. “You’ve not been with it recently.”

Sera struggles with a response. “I’m having a few issues at home, I’m very sorry. I’ll not let it get the better of me here.” she pleads.

“Okay, if you need to talk, just let me know.”

“Thanks Mel.” Sera replies, expressing her disdain the moment she returns to the tills. It immediately reverts to a forced smile as she welcomes a new customer to the shop.

***

Another evening, another instance of Stu sitting alone at the top bar in Woktails, nursing a tall absinthe. There is no DJ tonight, no thumping bass to disrupt him. There is a background CD of progressive house playing distantly, which he can hardly hear.

Lost in his thoughts, he occasionally looks to the side as people join him, ordering their own varied cocktails. No-one engages him, mired in their own conversations. Looking over the balcony at the floor below, it’s busy down there, lots of tables occupied by diners. He spots a raven haired girl, and a redhead, but they, and any other woman he spots, are engrossed in their situations, be it with their partner or group of friends. He catches the eye of one woman, who looks familiar...

Feeling a light touch on his shoulder, he turns the other way and smiles at what he sees.

“Hey you.” he says.

“Hey.” she softly replies.

***

A naked Stu splashes his face with cold water, then repeats. He briefly gazes at his reflection, then twists the tap and dries off. He walks back to the bed, throwing the moist towel to one side.

“What’s with the cool scar?” she asks, her nude form laying barely under a sheet. Stu runs his fingers through the loose hair trailing down her shoulder.

“Car accident.” He replies, sitting beside her.

“Wow, how long ago was it? It looks quite old.” she asks, delicately running her fingers across the bobbles.

“Six years ago. My girlfriend and parents died in that crash, and this is all I walked away with.” he exhales. “It holds a lot of painful memories.”

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” she begs, getting to her knees and holding him tightly.

“It’s not a problem. It’s just a unique reminder.” As she releases, he looks down and runs his fingers across it. Looking back up, he draws her in to share a kiss. Their tongues tangle, and he is instantly reminded of the first time she kissed him, back in a dark alcove at the Plasma Dome. Their moment is fierce, kisses fast and passionate. He digs his fingers into her skin, setting her pulse racing. After such a steamy embrace, she sighs as they part. Momentarily keeping her eyes closed to savour the moment, she opens them and ogles him longingly.

“I’m here for you now. You can rely on me.” she tells him, taking both hands and bringing them to her breasts. “Now come and fuck me again.” she purrs, biting her lip. She lays back and he mounts her, feeding his fingers through her hair and pulling the strands taut.

***

Shaz’s Restaurant and Bar was formerly a prestigious bank, the stone floor and four equidistant spiral pillars the only remnants within the expansive open space. The left side is dominated by leather armchairs and sofas for drinkers and casual guests, arranged around oak tables of varying widths and shapes. The right side is for those dining, leather banquette seats accompanying square marble tables, each adorned with a stout candle and a small but vibrant floral arrangement. Running along the centre is an oval zinc-topped bar with both sides open to casual guests. Tonight is busy for both sides of Shaz’s, with numerous punters perched on high stools at the bar itself.

Amidst the cacophony of patrons and bustle of waiters, Jenny and Solani share their first meal together. She is wearing an expensive and exquisite form-fitting red halter neck dress which stretches down to her ankles. Her hair is bunched on the crown of her head, completely up and away from her neck. Solani wears somewhat smart trousers, his white shirt a little untucked and unbuttoned at the neck. His sleeves are rolled back, shoes new but a little scuffed already.

Jenny takes a long nip of her wine, moaning as it coats her throat. Solani has an identical glass, full to the brim but still to be tasted. The remains of the bottle is perched in an ice bucket, the outside beaded with condensation. Her plate of braised steak with a side of peppercorn coated vegetables is nearly gone, the satisfaction of such a rich and compelling meal engineering her smile. Solani, on the other hand, doesn’t have a meal. Instead he circles the rim of his tall wine with a finger, revelling in the reaction of his company.

“I must say.” Jenny starts, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “I’ve never tasted something so exquisite.” she beams, leaning back into her comforting chair. “Stu would never have bought me to a place like this.” she says, gazing down at her plate. Solani’s contented grin sinks into a disgruntled scowl. With a flick of his loose thumb, Jenny’s gaze suddenly flips up and locks firmly on him.

“Why don’t you tell me a little about him?” Solani queries.

“Of course, sweetness.” Jenny smiles. “What would you like to know?”

“What is it about him that you are so drawn to?”

“The mysteriousness, of course.” she instantly replies. “There is so much about him that I don’t know, but am so intrigued to unearth.” Her gaze is still locked on him, her body unmoved since he averted her concentration.

“What one thing intrigues you most?”

“His deep, dark secret.” she smiles. “He has this overwhelming charm, this resonance that draws my breath away. I want to spend what time I have with him learning what makes him tick, and why he feels the need to hide behind his anger. He has so much negativity, and he knows I can help him through this. He knows I’m the one for him, the woman who can suppress his demons and help him enjoy the life he has, enjoy the people that care about him. Most importantly, I have to know why, out of every other guy I’ve crossed, he’s the only one I’ve truly fallen for.” Solani twitches two other fingers rapidly. “I’m so glad we met, Thomas. I can’t begin to tell you how much I’m falling for you.” she tells him, her body now loose and a tear beginning to tumble down her cheek. “I want no-one else in this world but you.” Solani nods in agreement.

“You’ll have to get Stu to meet us, I’ve been having problems getting hold of him.” he says, attention diverted to another brunette making her way to the nearby toilets, her athletic figure a feast for the eyes in a short, deep blue dress. As he spots her, she tilts her head to catch his gaze, winking implicitly.

“Oh, that’s a shame. I know that you too are such close friends.” she smiles, delicately forking the final chunk of steak.

“Excuse me one moment.” he says, getting up. Jenny doesn’t react, instead enjoying the meat rolling around her tongue, savouring the flavour as much as possible before swallowing. Solani takes his time to reach the entrance to the toilets, just twenty feet from their table, relishing the enamoured looks that come his way from both men and women as he drifts by.

As he reaches the alcove bearing two doors, the brunette is waiting right outside the women’s, back turned to the approaching Solani. She casually glances at him, not engaging eye contact, before entering and allowing him to follow her in. He doesn’t bother to check for anyone else inside, slithering behind her as she enters a cubicle and turns to finally face him, the untouched door slamming shut and locking the moment he is in with her.

She plants her hands on either side of the tiled walls, dropping her head back as he moves in, pressing his hands hard against her hips as he caresses her neck, tentatively licking her flesh.

“Take me...” she whispers.

“You taste sweeter than your sister...” he snarls, savagely. Lowering a hand down her back, resting it upon the top of her derriere, he closes his eyes and kisses her hard, chewing almost as they lock lips. She doesn’t flinch, instead embracing his passion, fingers clasped around his shoulders. Quickly, she starts to mumble, her eyes popping open and widening as fear stifles her instinct to flee. The skin around her mouth begins to tighten, vacuumed towards his mouth, pulling it away from her muscles. She can’t scream or release her grip, her sinking eyes draining of colour.

Her skin tears as the pressure of melting into him judders her body. She tries to struggle but can’t, her eyes flicking from side to side in fruitless fear. Her arms slide off the cubicle walls and slam into Solani, pushing down so hard that they disappear into his rippling shirt. Her face merges with his, slowly and painfully, dark hair stitching to his and dimming to the same colour. Her dress shimmers as it connects to his clothes, vanishing to leave bright blue pinstripes across his once plain shirt.

As the poor woman dissolves into her attacker, light ash floats away from her, cascading across the porcelain throne, leaving her imprint against the back wall. Solani steps back to balance himself, grinding his taught muscles as his complexion gains a hint of tan, his weary eyes brightening and tired skin ironed of kinks. He opens his eyes briefly, unleashing white hot flames that extinguish the moment he blinks.

He checks himself, impressed with the new-found radiance in his skin. He spits smoking saliva into the bowl and exits the cubicle.

“I wondered where you’d gone. What were you doing?” Jenny smiles as he returns, completely unaware that he had even left her. She is running a finger through the sauce that accompanied her meal, suggestively dripping it onto her lips as Solani casually watches.

“Taking care of business, of course.” Watching her fawn over him, it’s only a matter of time before Stu comes running and tries to take her back, if he doesn’t bore of her first.

***

The light to Merrick’s office is the only source still bright down this end of the station. Inside, Merrick furiously scribbles across a ruled sheet of paper. Alongside is a photograph, taken from distance by a tourist, of Baltazar being attacked by a mystery assailant. Also in the picture, and watching idly by, is a woman identified as Jenny Albers. Merrick has information that she has been in some degree of a relationship with him recently, and a friend of hers met an untimely death not so long ago.

He scratches out one sentence, immediately rewriting it a different way. Looking back at the picture, he can make out Stu, roughly, and the face of Ms. Albers is pretty clear. But the assailant, stood tall over his fallen prey, has a slightly warped and speckled complexion, and is difficult to identify. No eyewitnesses can so far corroborate who he is, and he certainly hasn’t been spotted by any of her neighbours. Picking it up, he draws it closer.

“Where do you fit into all of this?” he mulls.

***

Jenny writhes under silk sheets, moaning in delight and having to bite hard on one of her fingers. Another figure is deep under the sheet, moving around between her legs. A hand emerges to caress one of her breasts, flicking at the nipple between forefinger and thumb.

Solani emerges, rising up her body and trailing his long, lizard-like tongue up her stomach. They share a kiss, and his palms begin to steam as he grips and pinches her flesh. She moans harder, ignorant of the seared hand prints beginning to scour her skin. He thrusts against her, intensifying her pleasure, continuing to burn her with every touch. As they kiss again, her skin starts to tug, ripping away from her face. She doesn’t react, instead her skin is stuck to Solani’s, her flesh and muscle tugging away from her own skeleton. Blood seeps from between the cuts where the dermis snaps and tears like a rag. Her hands soften as they merge with his skin, melting like liquid to soak right into his own existence. Her body pulls up, sucked inside him. He continues to grind, meshing more of her body with his own the harder he thrusts. Suddenly she realises, her eyes flicking from side to side, unable to do anything to stop this. Her mouth is already merged with his, no room for her to scream. Panic makes her squirm more, making the transfusion move swifter. What makes the ordeal more terrifying for her is the sudden appearance of ghostly figures - men, women, children - their tortured stares leer at her. There are hundreds of them hustled around the bed, all fronted by the burning man.

She awakes suddenly, finding her body, pillow and bed sheet drenched in sweat. Her breath is short, mouth arid and sore. Looking around and realising it is already light, she pants and tries to catch her breath. She is in her own room, alone, hearing the world outside carry on as normal through the open window. Brushing back her hair to find a river of sweat oozing from it, she clicks the fan on and sits there for a moment, basking in the torrent of cool air. She shivers hard, disturbed by such a chilling vision. She scratches both arms at the same time, urged to tackle a seemingly incessant scratch, or so her mind is telling her. It also swirls with the faces of those long dead people she saw, and two in particular. A blonde woman the same age as her, and a guy she hasn’t seen for a year or so. But their names... what are their names?

She reaches for her phone on the bedside table, intent on phoning Stu. She stops short, her hand hovering over the call button. Unsure as to why she wanted to turn to him so instinctively, she cancels the process and rolls back into bed, keeping clear of the pool of sweat.

***

Stu reaches for his phone, almost expecting it to ring. Wondering why he reacted this way, he gazes at the blank screen before him, noticing a few scratches as it catches the sun. He then spots a shimmering blonde reflection over his shoulder, eagerly looking on.

“What’s up?” she coos, watching him replace it on the side table.

“Nothing. I thought I heard it ring.” he answers, rolling back toward her.

“Good, now where were we?” Aimee grins, pushing him back down onto the bed to mount him once again.