Episode 7: crASH CoURSE

“PUSH!”

“I’M TRYING DAMMIT!”

Having repositioned her former fiancée’s car to face and drive it into Founder’s Lake forty miles outside Boston the vehicle was slowly submerging. Having found a brick to plant on the gas pedal and leaping out of the way Gwen Alonzo toppled face first into the cold lake water, her borrowed white button-down shirt glowing like a specter in the moonlight now that it was soaked through. Crawling to her feet at her ex-husband’s insistence she waded to the back of her fiancée Brandon’s car and threw her body into it in hopes to encourage it sinking faster.

“Our luck the car will stop in the mud.” She mumbled. “Are you even helping?”

“How can I help? I’m dead, my soul is only residing in you.” He snapped back, “Although I ... something is happening to me Gwen.”

“What do you mean? Are you leaving me?” Panic took over as she pushed.

“No, just the opposite, it’s as if my soul is burning brighter, growing stronger.”

Hearing him almost laughing she felt as if a second set of hands were giving her more muscle in pushing the trunk of the car, “Is that you?”

“I believe so. I think I’ve somehow energized your body to that of the strength of two.”

“OH, NOW YOU’RE USEFUL!” She chuckled, “I can’t believe we’re doing this, under a harvest moon even.”

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

“I’m freezing now!”

“Hold on I’ll warm you up.”

“A little late to be trying to seduce me now Hector. The car’s sinking faster it must have gone over the edge into deeper water. I’m getting out my nipples have icicles forming.”

“I told you I’ll warm you up. I don’t know why or how but my soul feels energetic.”

“And you without a dick these days.” She realized how badly that sounded but he already sensed her sorrow of disrespect. It was not meant to be mean.

“I won’t take that personally, you’re on edge.”

“Strange, I do feel warmer inside. What are you doing?”

“Turning you on.”

“No, you’re not. I’m the furthest thing from horny after all of this craziness. Let’s just finish up here and let me start walking, it’s a long hike back to Boston.”

“In a wringing wet dress shirt.”

“Do I have a choice here?” She escapes the water but finds mud up to her calves looking horrible. “I look a fright and I can barely see myself.”

“There’s a faucet on the cabin, possibly a garden hose. Even more you might be able to get inside the cabin and shower up.”

“Why? So, I can leave fingerprints and strands of hair in the drain? Are you crazy?”

“Good point! I’m out of ideas, you’re on your own.”

“Let me spread Brandon’s ashes and just wash my feet under that faucet. I’ll use my shirt to cover my hands from leaving prints.”

“Wait! I forgot, there’s an outdoor shower. Use that! We have a few hours to kill before dawn. As long as you can get a few miles up the road you could possibly hail down a ride. Let your shirt dry as much as possible. Drape it over a tree limb.”

“Good idea! I’ll go streaking alone.”

“Right beside you babe.”

“Don’t call me babe. Those days are over.”

“Fair Damsel?”

“You would resort to chivalry. Fuck you, Hector. Just give me a bit of peace and quiet. Please?”

“As you wish.”

“THANK YOU!!”

Removing her shirt, she prowled about the outside of the cabin until locating a low enough tree branch to hang up her shirt. Tossing her clean shoes next to her purse and Brandon’s ashes she squinted about for the faucet, finding it in the back of the house. Forgetting her shirt as a print protector she gathered leaves and packed them before turning the valves. She did her best to clean up her muddy limbs and hands but there was no being perfect. While there was a shower outside paranoia kept her from messing with her hair. Once rinsed off good she put her pumps on and carried her items up to the cabin’s front porch where a bench swing dangled from chains. Swaying on it without touching it with her hands she eyed Brandon’s cookie jar urn and cried.

She was going to have to finish her mission soon, but for now she needed a hiatus of emotion. The newfound warmth within her was seeping out through her pores and making her feel strangely loved. Regardless, she rolled her eyes. Thirty minutes, she just needed thirty minutes.

Detective Heather Choi woke up wringing in sweat. Even with her window open and a cool breeze filtering in, curtains billowing like the cape of some rooftop superhero she was moist all over. Sitting in the faint glow of a wall outlet’s plug in nightlight she huffed and shot a glance at her alarm clock.

“2:00 AM! Lord, I’ve only slept two hours.” Snatching her cellphone from its bedside charger she lit it up and discovered a text from Coroner Keith Bryson. Opening it she read, “We have to talk. ASAP!” Peaked interest she shrugged and dialed his phone, Keith picking up on literally the first ring.

“About time! Sorry to wake you but it’s urgent.” He rambled as she told him it was fine, “I can’t explain what happened tonight but remember that Cynthia Drewbeck’s eyes?”

“Yeah?”

“Her eyes are normal now. I ... might not have a job by morning...”

“Why would you think that?” She squirmed to tug her pajama bottoms crumpled up inside her butt cheeks for better comfort.

“I ... I’d rather not tell you; it will make me sound both insane, and ... perverted.”

“I think I already knew that about you Bryson. Just spit it out.”

“I blacked out! When I woke up I ... was naked in the morgue. I just know I’m on the security cameras. Heather ... I swear that’s not me.”

“Slow down ... you blacked out? What’s the last thing you remember?”

“You ... I think I dreamt about you ... I shouldn’t admit that Heather but I ... I can’t remember anything else after you left the morgue. It feels as if there was someone else there but ... I can’t get a mental image of who. All I remember is my dream and waking up touching myself. Kind of raw to be honest.”

“TMI Bryson. Is this some joke?”

“I swear it’s not! I’m not even hitting on you right now. I’m more terrified I lost my job.”

“I’ll take care of the cameras when I come in. Burroughs in the surveillance office owes me a favor. Maybe I can intercept it before he files a report.” She frowned. “Hold on a second.” She switches her cell mode over to her photo gallery and pulls up the pictures of Cynthia Drewbeck’s eyeballs. Shocked Heather discovers even the pictures were missing the halo and pentagram effect, both pupils now normal and lifeless. “Well hell! Fuck me raw!” Returning to Keith she added, “Wasn’t an offer! My photos of her eyes are missing the symbols too. How did that happen? If you’re crazy I must be in the same asylum.”

“So, you believe me?”

“Yes, of course I do. Just get some rest I’ll deal with saving your job.”

“Thanks Heather! I owe you.”

“No, you don’t ... I ... need sleep.”

“Right! Night Heather.”

“Night Keith.”

Hanging up Heather took one last look at Cynthia’s eyes, this time there was something different in them ... movement like a reflection. “What in the hell?” She increased the size of the photo that had the pentagram and discovered an image of a sexual encounter. Wincing at it closely she palmed her mouth in shock. “That’s me riding ... Keith. OH MY GOD! I never...” Swiping pics over to Cynthia’s right eye which had the halo when taken she sees the same image only a full frontal of herself in obvious ecstasy, tits bouncing, hands in her silky raven black hair. “This is impossible. What is going on here?”

Closing out to collect her thoughts and control her heartrate from adrenalin fear, she fell back on her mattress and stared at the ceiling. Unable to sleep she couldn’t stop picturing it and just had to look again. This time the reflections were not the same ... this time of a woman from her nose to chin with dark lips blowing her a kiss.

Leaving her bed in a blur she got dressed in jeans and a green t-shirt. Black leather jacket and boots on she hit the front door running. In her Jeep she backed from her garage and squealed her tires likely waking her neighbors. Heather Choi had a very bad feeling things were going to go beyond any simple investigation. Normally fearless Heather trembled. Not good!

She should!

Hector Alonzo’s house at Candelabra Estates...

Jody Alonzo wandering in only her G-string, arms folded over her chest found herself wanting to call her mother but knew it was a bad idea. Peering out the front curtains she saw a man on the street walking a small dog, a chihuahua by the looks of it. Before she could close the curtain, the man waved at her then lifted the poor pooch up in the air strangling it in a yelping that made her cringe. Whipping the leash around his head like a stripper the dog died in midair.

“OH, MY GOD!” Closing the curtain, she raced down the hall to jump in bed next to Raven waking the redhead up. “He’s outside watching us. He killed a dog right before my eyes.”

“W-What?” Groggy from her unexpected wakeup call Raven sat up in bed and had to gain focus before crawling out. Following Jody back to the living room Jody again ripped the curtain open to point out the spot the man had stood on the sidewalk.

“He’s gone but the dog is still there. See it?”

“Yeah! Sick fucker!”

“It had to be that Noigel he whipped the dog over his head like a cowboy with a rope. It had to have snapped its neck.”

“Stay here!” Raven moved to the front door, first peering out the peep hole to see if the guy might be on the other side. Wearing only her pink lace panties Raven cautiously opened the door and stepped out on to the welcome mat. Feeling something wet on the bottom of her foot she looked down to find blood on the walk. Jody turning on the porch light spelled out what Raven feared. Written in blood was, “TO HELL!” but upside down. It was then she realized the welcome mat was backwards, the rug saying a traditional “Welcome” on it. “WELCOME TO HELL!” She read aloud.

“Don’t go out there. He might grab you.” Jody fret joining her up close, her nipples tickling Raven’s bare back. The merest caress sent Raven’s eyes back into her head briefly. Turning to face Jody, she pushed her back gently to prevent her stepping in the blood.

“Not helping Angel.” Where did that come from? Jody looked puzzled by the referral.

“I’m invincible I can protect you.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not going to fear that fucker. Let me check on the dog. It’s like I can sense ... warmth.” A glance over her shoulder at the abandoned pooch her eyes inexplicably went heat seeker ... sensing a dim aura around the fallen canine. “I think it’s alive. Protect the house! Don’t let him in if he shows up behind me. Barrier up Babe!”

“Be careful ... I’d be lost without you.”

Turning without any verbal reply Raven grit her teeth and spoke to her thoughts, “That’s what I’m afraid of. My barrier effect might be the only thing...” A shiver made her decline finishing her sentence. Wiping her feet in the grass so as not to leave bloody footprints on the concrete Raven walked briskly out toward the street. Hiding behind the mailbox to look both ways for traffic be it in a car or on foot she felt safe in proceeding. With neither in sight she scurried across the street to find the dog laying there faintly whimpering its final breath. Gently picking the dog up she cradled it with a pout. “I’m sorry little one. You didn’t deserve this. Go on ... All Dogs go to Heaven. I’ve seen the cartoon. It has to be true.”

As if understanding, the dog ever so lightly licked her chin and expired. While invisible to any human she however witnessed its soul spark lift from its body and hover in front of Raven’s eyes. Behind her on her lower back her pentagram became a glowing white arrow pointing straight up, “It’s that way Sweetie! Be my watchdog from here on ... okay?” Drifting skyward as if a hot air balloon the pup’s soul vanished. Once gone she stood up with its former body and carried it back toward the house. Stopping in the street she realized something. “No blood! That must mean ... the owner ... great! Another dead body in my backyard.”

Possibly so! She simply did not want to know.

“I’ll bury you in the morning Baby.”

Hopefully not it’s master’s body too.

“Gwen?”

“I know get my ass up. I just needed a moment.” She sighed and shoved her body out of the porch swing with the use of only her legs. “My shirt’s probably still damp. I’ll just go dump Brandon’s ashes along the shoreline. There was a big rock I’ll stand on, so I don’t get muddy again.”

“Good idea! For the record, I’ll say a prayer for Brandon. I’m not that bitter.”

“Thank you, Hector. While we’re on a record Brandon prayed for you too when we were informed of your passing.”

“Really? I never took Brandon as the religious type.”

“He wasn’t really, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I’m sure he merely did it for Jody and I.” Picking up the urn she left her purse behind. The urn was like a lead weight in her arms suddenly, even with any additional strength Hector might have instilled upon her. With the moon guiding her to the rock of ages she stepped up on it and removed the lid tossing it on the bank until done.