Shadows From the Past
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2012 by A Strange Geek

Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 6 - The Harbingers have little cause to celebrate either their recent victory or the coming holidays. Jason is beside himself, desperately searching Elizabeth's journal for clues to combat the Darkness and fulfill a promise to find Richie's father, all while Heather falls deeper under Laura's control and Melinda to her own mother. Little do they know they will soon be confronting something even more difficult than the Darkness itself.

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Mind Control   Magic   Slavery   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Extra Sensory Perception   Paranormal   Incest   Mother   Son   Sister   Daughter   Cousins   Aunt   Humiliation   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Sex Toys   Squirting   Exhibitionism  

Richie lay on his back on the bed, trying to ignore the ache in his balls. Cathy was draped over him, her hand slowly stroking his chest, one slim leg sliding along his thigh. Her breath was a slow pant, and her hips occasionally squirmed. Richie felt the warm moisture against his skin when her still damp pussy brushed him.

Despite keeping a rigid hold over his thoughts, his cock remained at half-mast, willing to go again despite how many times it had already gone. He had not had that kind of stamina except when he was linked to the other Harbingers. With as little energy he sensed from it, the link may as well be dead. That left only the Darkness, and he refused to let it gain any more control over him.

Not control, Richie, not at all, the Darkness cooed in his head. Just a little gift from me. Like your would-be slave here.

Richie clenched his teeth. He quelled the denial he wanted to shoot back, if for no other reason than to avoid appearing like it had riled him. He had not taken Cathy as a slave, not in any of the times she has orgasmed. Each time Cathy had come close, he had sensed the Darkness waiting with sharp anticipation. The moment of climax was always when it happened, when the mind was most vulnerable.

You can take her any time you want, Richie.

Richie turned his head and listened to his mother bustling about the kitchen. He drew in a slow, deep breath, and the thick aroma of his mother's cooking sent a pang through both his stomach and his heart. "Maybe I should go help Mom with dinner," he said.

Cathy raised her head. She drew her leg further up Richie's thigh. "Don't you want to stay here with me?"

Yes, he very much wanted to stay. He wanted to keep fucking her; he wanted to tease her pussy and hold her just short of orgasm until she begged to be allowed to cum; he wanted her lips wrapped around his cock; he wanted his cock buried in her tits.

His cock rose to these fleeting thoughts. Cathy glanced at it and licked her lips with a shiver of renewed need. Her hand slid down his chest and cradled his stiffening member until it became hard and pulsing once more. She played her fingers along its length with light and furtive caresses until his breath quickened.

Richie's hand suddenly shot out and grasped Cathy's wrist. He paused, took another breath, and tugged her hand away from his cock.

"Something wrong, Richie?" Cathy asked, her eyes shimmering. "Was I doing it wrong?"

"You're fine, Cathy," Richie grunted, sweeping her hand to the side. "I just wanna talk, okay?"

Cathy slowly nodded, but she let out a husky sigh and snuggled against him.

Nice, fuckable girl in bed with me and I say I just wanna talk, Richie thought. Yeah, I must be fucking nuts.

Moreover, he had no idea what to say. He searched his head for any sign of his father's presence. Even its mocking tone would be welcome, as it helped him make the right decisions. Any decisions he made on his own he feared would be self-serving or influenced by the Darkness.

He wished he had called Jason earlier. If anyone had the answers, it would be him. He smirked at an unintentionally amusing thought: WWJD -- What Would Jason Do?

Jason would ask lots of annoying questions, Richie thought.

"When did you run into my Mom?" Richie asked.

"Oh, I didn't really run into her," Cathy said in a breathy voice. "She called me up on Monday and said she wanted to take me out to lunch."

"So you did lunch with her? Just like that?"

"On Tuesday, yeah. I was surprised to hear from her after all these years. She said she really needed my help with something."

"With what?"

Cathy paused. "She never did tell me, actually. When we went to lunch, we wound up talking a lot about you."

"And then, bang, you wanted to see me again, huh?"

Cathy hesitated again, as if Richie's questions were taxing her ability to think. "I don't remember quite that well. I think I told her I wouldn't mind seeing you again at some point. Then she invited me over for Thanksgiving."

"And you agreed? You don't have your own family?"

Cathy squirmed. "My mother ... wasn't happy with it, no, but by then Aunt Sandra had told me all about you and I just had to see you again. That's when I started having all those sexy dreams about--"

"Never mind that!" Richie snapped. He frowned as he tried to think of what to ask next. He silently cursed himself for not being as good at this as Jason. "So you decided to forget your family and come here after having lunch with my mother?"

Cathy let out a husky sigh and shivered. She drew her leg further up Richie's thigh until it brushed his balls. She slid her hand over his chest, her fingers spreading. "She ... she took me back here after lunch," she said in a breathy voice. "I don't remember a lot of what happened, just ... just this really mind-blowing orgasm."

"Yeah," Richie said tonelessly. "Literally."

Cathy moaned, her hand sliding down to his cock. What little of his erection had flagged snapped back to life seconds after her touch. "Richie? Fuck me one more time? Please? Thinking about Tuesday made me so horny again."

Richie almost didn't hear her. He brooded on what his mother had done. Had she any idea the Darkness would offer him his mother back? Was she doing this to save herself? Should the answer even matter?

Three months ago, Richie would have gladly sacrificed anyone into slavery if it meant turning back the clock. He would have sacrificed all of Haven to get his father back and return to a peaceful existence back in Randall. He doubted he would have batted an eye if his own mother had done the same. Sometimes he fantasized that her continuous sexual romp through Haven was a means to that end, that the Darkness would let her go once she reached her quota.

(Perhaps I don't need Sandra as much anymore)

No, Richie thought. I won't take Cathy. I won't enslave her. The Darkness is lying. It has to be.

Yet, for a moment, he wished it wasn't.

Richie gestured. Cathy nodded and scrambled atop him, straddling his hips. She leaned forward and dangled her breasts in the way she knew Richie liked. Richie grabbed her hips as she reached down to lift his cock towards her eager and wet pussy. She closed her eyes and uttered a deep, lusty sigh as he pulled her onto his cock. She smiled as he slid into her slick tunnel with a wonderful squishing sound.

He shoved her down hard, and she gasped when his cock dove deep. She gyrated her hips just to feel his hardness filling her cunt. He lifted his arms, and she raised her hips along with him, only to drop her back down again. Cathy picked up the pace and humped his cock, her boobs swaying with each thrust.

Again, the Darkness had drawn closer, like vultures to carrion, watching and slavering. This time he saw something else, something faint, and he closed his eyes to visualize it. The Darkness was surrounded by an eerie blue-white glow. He had never seen anything like it.

It had to mean something. He tried to think through the fog of pleasure, but Cathy humped him harder, as if trying to distract him. I'm not gonna take her, Richie repeated, though his conviction faltered. Go get off on something else, 'cuz the show's over, you fucker.

No reaction. It may have been his imagination, but he sensed a non-nonchalance from the Darkness, as if it were watching only a sideshow of some bigger event. But what?


Cassie was still pushing open one of the doors when Ned stepped past her. He looked around the cavernous room, his eyes sweeping over the curved alabaster walls and up to the huge, sparkling chandeliers. He uttered another long whistle and thrust his hands into his pockets. He took a few steps forward just to hear the echo of his own crisp footsteps.

"Wow. Yer own ballroom. Oops!" He briefly clamped his hand over his mouth. He drew himself up straight, tossed his head back, and peered imperiously down his nose. "A very fine piece of architecture, my dearest Cassandra. Spacious without being overdone. Luxurious without being ostentatious. White without being very, uh, black."

Cassie stepped up to him and placed a hand on his arm, squeezing rather hard. "Ned?"

"Ah, yes, my lovely consort?"

"Stop it. Please. And go back to calling me Cassie."

"Oh, uh, sure thing," Ned said, dropping back to his normal voice. "I jus' wanted ta make sure I, ya know, played the role right."

Cassie sighed and laid her head against his shoulder. "I don't want you to play a role. I'm sorry I ever even hinted I wanted you to."

"I jus' don't wanna get ya inta trouble with yer parents. I wanna at least try ta make a good impression."

"Not if it means being someone you're not. It's bad enough I have to put on airs. I shouldn't impose that on you."

Ned grasped her hand. "Yeah, I gotta admit, I was wonderin' 'bout that. Ya mean ya have ta play the part o' the little princess around them, too?"

Cassie slipped her arm around him and nudged until he walked slowly with her across the ballroom floor. "At least my mother, anyway. And Father largely defers to her when it comes to me."

"Wow, that'd drive me bonkers." He tugged one of the lapels of his jacket. "At least I gotta wear this only today."

"And I wish you hadn't had to wear it, to be honest."

"Well, I coulda shown up naked, but it's too damn cold outside fer that."

Ned's voice carried in the empty room, and she felt the urge to admonish him for the crude humor. She quelled it and giggled softly instead. She glanced around and uttered a small sigh, realizing this was the first time she was traversing the ballroom floor with someone she actually loved.

"Seriously, Cassie, I woulda looked as outta place as a sore nose if I didn't wear this."

"I know, and I appreciate you doing it for me." She smiled. "And I do think you look handsome."

Ned grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist, but then paused. "Er ... I'm allowed ta touch ya a little, right?"

Cassie doubted her mother would have liked any contact whatsoever between them. "Of course you are."

Ned looked around as they came to the center of the room. "So, uh, is the evenin' vittles gonna be served up here?"

Cassie noticed the slight quaver to his voice. "No, that will be in the banquet room. Why?"

"Oh, okay, that's cool," Ned said in a relieved voice.

Cassie stopped walking and faced him. "Why, what's wrong?"

To her bemusement, Ned's cheeks colored. "It's, ah ... well, I jus' thought if they did it in here, we'd hafta, ya know, dance or something."

Cassie smiled. "It's not that hard, Ned."

Ned snorted. "Tell that ta my feet. They're as coord'nated as a spider wearin' skates walkin' on an oil slick."

"Oh, you can't be that bad." She paused. "You want me to show you?"

Ned's eyes widened. "Huh? What, here? Now?"

In answer to his question, she took one of his hands and placed it near her waist.

"Ah ... I'm not so sure 'bout this," Ned said in an anxious voice. "Mebbe we're not allowed ta do this or--"

"Nonsense, Ned. My mother is always making me do this with some other rich family's son." She placed his other hand and nudged one of his feet to the side. "I guess she hopes I'll take a liking to one of them, and he'll sweep me off my feet and out of this so-called 'phase' I'm in."

"Heh, I fer one hope ya never do take a likin' ta them."

Cassie positioned her hands on his body and looked into his eyes. "Rich people bore me," she said in a low, earnest voice. "Here, just follow my lead."

Cassie did not sense his shock in time to stop. Ned failed to move at first and stumbled into her on the first dance step, his cheeks flaming.

Cassie giggled. "It's okay. We'll try it again."

Ned nodded and held his breath through the first few steps, letting it go as a gusty sigh when he tripped over her feet, her hands gripping him hard to keep him upright. Cassie cast a tender smile at him, and she was sure it was the only thing which allowed her to sweep him around the ballroom floor. This time he managed to complete a full set of steps with only a minor stumble.

"See, you're getting it," Cassie said. "Let's try it again. Just remember the basic rhythm..."

Cassie was relieved to sense his embarrassment ease from just the sound of the delight in her voice. His lips twitched into a tiny smile, and then spread into a more natural grin as he completed the next steps without incident. She swept him into the next, and they turned around one another as they traversed the ballroom floor.

Cassie's heart soared. If only Ned could come to her mother's luncheons, they would be so much more tolerable. She enjoyed playing the princess for him, knowing he would appreciate her dress and her hairdo for how they complemented her rather than how they defined her. If she could have anything at all from her parents, even the smallest concession, it would be permission to wear ordinary, off-the-rack jeans and a simple pullover shirt.

"Heh, this is kinda fun," Ned said, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

"I'd like it more, if my mother didn't make it such a chore at luncheons."

"Mebbe ya should try ta use yer Gift so we can do this more often."

Cassie misstepped. She recovered so quickly Ned barely noticed, but her heart suddenly fluttered, and a tremor went through her body. "What?" she asked in a slightly startled voice.

"Well, I figgered we, uh, could do it in our dreams fer real. I ... Cassie?"

Cassie's eyes glazed, and the ballroom spun around her and off into the distance.


Cassie gasps as she is thrown through the veil, its tendrils whipping streaks of icy cold against her already shivering skin. She flails her arms to stop herself, but nothing gives her purchase. For a moment she feels she is suffocating, the air freezing in her lungs as she plunges through a strange blue-white barrier which seeks to toss her back.

At first, Cassie wants nothing more than to stop, yet now she fights her way through, fearing she will be caught in this horrible, petrified limbo. Just as she feels she will freeze solid and shatter like smashed crystal, she bursts through.

She stumbles into the middle of a darkened, cavernous room. Low sentry lights glow from recessed niches along the walls. Giant symmetrical crystalline structures loom over her head at regular intervals. Everything fades to an even gray in the distance.

"The ballroom," Cassie whispers, her eyes wide. "My parents' ballroom. But..."

She is startled when a blade of light suddenly pierces the dimness as one of the doors cracks open. She holds her breath when a shadow appears at the door, pauses, then pushes the door open wider.

A little girl's head pokes into the room. Her cherubic face is framed by a mass of brown curls which flap almost comically against her cheeks as she whips her gaze back and forth. "Okay, no one's here, no one will see us," the girl whispers.

Cassie stares as the little girl pads into the ballroom on bare feet, her white nightgown swishing around her ankles. She cannot be much older than seven. Cassie looks on in confusion. Who is this? Is this whose head she's in? And how did the little girl get into the mansion?

The girl looks back towards the hallway and gestures. "Okay, you can come in." The girl backs away from the door, and her angelic face lights up in a wide smile. She lifts her eyes to the ceiling and sweeps her arms around the room. "See? I told you it was big. You said you like big places like this."

Cassie narrows her eyes, but she sees no one other than the little girl. Yet the girl suddenly giggles as if she had just heard something funny, and a chill passes through Cassie.

The little girl turns from her unseen companion and skips to the center of the room. "This is where Mother and Father hold their luncheons." She abruptly stops and spins around. "Luncheons. Lunch-eons. Yeah, sort of like lunch but with lots of people, and some of them dance."

Cassie swallows hard and trembles. She drifts closer, if only to find some reason to deny the disturbing familiarity of the girl.

"I can teach you how," the little girl suddenly says.

Cassie freezes, and her heart races as the girl reaches forward and grasps an unseen hand, placing it at her waist. "Mother taught me this. Says I'll need to know how to do it when I grow up."

"It can't be," Cassie breathes. "Th-this can't be me."

The little girl takes another unseen hand and places it on her arm. She drapes her own around her invisible companion's waist. "Now, like this."

Cassie stumbles back as she watches the girl sweep her imaginary companion around the ballroom, just as she and Ned had been doing. Her heart pounds until it aches. "This can't be me!"

The little girl giggles as her movements become faster and more fluid. "See, I knew you could do this. Kind of fun, isn't it? I could ... oh..." The girl stops and lowers her arms. "Aw, so soon? But don't you want to keep dancing?"

Cassie hears no response. Yet the silence suddenly terrifies her, as if some sort of visceral understanding has passed through her mind.

The little girl -- little Cassie, there is no denying it now -- suddenly pouts and places her hands on her hips. "Stop it. Don't talk like that. No, it's stupid. I can't do something like that! I can't get into people's dreams so we can't just dance there!"

Cassie gasps, her eyes wide and shimmering. Her trembling hand flutters at her bosom. She is as confused as she is scared. Her younger self could not possibly be talking about the Dream Gift. That never came about until puberty. She had no clue she had it before then.

Little Cassie clenches her hands into fists and pumps them down once at her sides. "Stop using those weird words I don't understand. Use the words I taught you. No, wait!" little Cassie suddenly cries. "No, don't go back yet! Why did you just say that? COME BACK!"

Little Cassie tears across the ballroom floor towards the door. Present-day Cassie jogs after her, until she feels the barrier again, cold and gelatinous, closing around her.

"Why did you say that to me?!" little Cassie cries out in a shrill voice as she bursts out of the ballroom and is gone.

Cassie tries one last time to follow, but she is swept off her feet, and an icy chill threatens to stop her beating heart until she is thrown through the veil...


"Cassie?" Ned said, giving her a tiny shake. "Cassie, ya with me again?"

Cassie blinked rapidly and drew in a sharp breath, letting it go as a shaky sigh. She lifted a still trembling hand to her face, then flinched when she saw how close she was standing to Ned.

Ned let out a relieved sigh. "Man, ya gave me a bit of a scare there. I was close ta findin' what's-his-name, Jeeves."

"That's J-James," Cassie said, her voice still weak. She clutched Ned's shoulders and drew in another deep breath. "Oh goodness..."

"Ya sure yer all right? Ya don't need me ta fetch--"

"No! I mean, no, please, don't summon..." She trailed off and looked around, as if to convince herself she was back in the real world. "Did anyone see me? How long was I out?"

"Nada. An' yer were only gone fer about five minutes." Ned smirked. "Longest five minutes of my life so far. Only reason I didn't call fer someone is I've seen ya like that before. Ya suddenly get inta someone's head?"

Cassie swallowed, her eyes darting everywhere.

"Whoa," Ned said. "Yer lookin' pretty frantic. What happened?"

"Just ... just let's get out of here first, please," Cassie said in a strained voice. She locked her arm around his and pulled him towards the door, though she hesitated just before crossing the threshold. She turned away from him and pulled the doors closed, letting out a relieved sigh.

"So didja?" Ned said in a low voice as he drew close.

"Yes, Ned, I did, but ... but it was like I got into my own head."

"Huh? I don't get it. Why wouldya need ta do that? Ya always said ya knew yer own head so well that--"

"At least I thought I did. But I just saw myself as a little girl, and ... and I don't remember any of it ever happening!"


Diane was surprised when she received very little flak from her mother for going a half hour over the time she had been allotted. Yet her mother's tolerance had apparently been pushed to the limit when Diane said she was going up to her room for awhile. Janet turned from a large bowl of dough and gave her daughter a pointed look. "Diane, what did I tell you last night about being with family today?"

"Mother, the rest of the family hasn't arrived yet."

"Your Grandmother Kyoto called just before you got home. They'll be here in a half hour. They would have been here sooner if it wasn't for the damn weather last night."

Diane was taken aback. It took a lot of stress to make her mother swear. Even Diane's father looked up from where he was cutting flattened pieces of dough to fashion into rolls, his dark almond eyes betraying concern, though he said nothing.

"Mother, I'll be down as soon as they arrive. I just ... I just want some time alone," Diane said.

"Did something happen with you and Heather?"

"No. Nothing happened at all," Diane said firmly, which was the absolute truth if she took her mother's words literally.

Janet searched her daughter's face, as if trying to verify that truth for herself. "I really don't like the idea of you holing up in your room, today of all days."

Diane bit her lip to suppress a sigh and looked to her father, but he gave her nothing more than a sympathetic look, which frustrated her to no end. Ralph Woodrow was a very loving father, but because of his family's influence, he held to some of their traditions about children and their relationship to their parents. For one, it was the mother's responsibility to sort out the daughters.

Janet plopped another large piece of dough on a pastry cloth and grabbed the roller. She paused and slumped her shoulders, the closest she usually came to uttering an actual sigh. "How important is this to you, really?"

"Very important, Mother," Diane, some relief creeping into her voice. "And I promise, as soon as I hear them arrive, I'll come downstairs and be with the family the rest of the day."

Janet hesitated another few seconds, but slowly nodded. "All right. Go."

Diane smiled and gave her mother a quick hug before she bolted from the room.

The time in the car with Debby had given Diane a chance to calm down. Ever since the woman had saved her from Victor, she had always felt more calm and protected in Debby's presence. The five minute ride had done far more for her state of mind than the conversation on the porch had.

In no way was she more accepting of this ability, but she had stopped freaking out about it. She had tried to appreciate it as something useful she could do, but it hinged on the assumption that she did not have to be enslaved -- or brought to near enslavement -- in order to use it.

As she bounded up the stairs, she thought back to the conversation with Cassie and Ned. Why had they asked her those questions? She chided herself for not thinking to ask at the time. Did it have anything to do with the lines? She did not want to pursue that idea too closely, as it made her entertain the notion that the Harbingers were planning to use her again like they had before.

Victor made them, she reminded herself as she entered her room. I have to keep telling myself that. They wouldn't have done it if Victor hadn't messed with my head.

Diane raced over to her desk and fell into the chair, rattling the lamp in the far right corner. She steadied it with one hand as she lifted the screen of her laptop with the other.

She was not sure what she expected to gain with what she was about to do, but the same question sparked by her conversation with Debby still haunted her: why had this power never manifested on its own at home if all she had to be was close to a line rather than right on it? Surely all the times she had been worried about Laura Bendon's affect on her mother would have been enough to allow her to tap into the line energy and destroy Laura's influence.

Diane sighed as she waited for her four year old laptop to boot and connect to the house wireless. She brought up Google Maps, tapping her foot as it seemed to load slower than most glaciers move in a year. She found her house and zoomed out until she could see the whole town.

Diane's eyes darted over the map, trying to locate Heather's house and failing. She plugged Heather's address into the application, then the location of the Li'l Missy Inn. She stared, imagining the line of force extending from just southeast of Heather's house, through the Inn and out her side of town. She clicked her tongue in frustration when it failed to visualize properly in her head.

She fumbled with the Windows menus until she had a screenshot image of the map in MS Paint. Using the original Google Maps as a reference, she placed dots on the MS Paint version to mark the Inn, her house, Heather's house, and finally the House at the end of the street. Finally, she drew a thick line which slashed across the map from northeast to southwest.

Diane stared at her resulting diagram with chagrin. If anything, it had proven her fears were real. Her house was just as close to the line as Heather's. If she had truly been able to tap the line energies from such proximity, the power should have manifested at home first long before that day.

She doubled-checked the location of the House. Since it had no address, she had to find the end of the little street and place the dot there, as for some odd reason the spot appeared as an empty field on even the satellite view. She tried adjusting the location a few times, but it did not significantly vary the result. She checked the Inn's location and verified she had that correct as well. She could not find an arrangement which would explain her lack of ability in her own home.

"Dammit," Diane muttered as she leaned back in her chair. She covered her eyes with a hand, the other curling into a fist which banged once against the top of the desk.

Diane wanted to find a reason to accept this power. Gaining the ability to see the Auras had sustained her for only a short time before her frustrations at failing to help Heather overshadowed it. It mattered not that Heather was refusing help. She felt she should be able to overcome it if she were a true friend and had any degree of competence whatsoever.

She flinched as the front door suddenly banged shut, and happy greetings in two languages rose from the floor below. Diane leapt from her chair and closed the lid of the laptop. She dashed out of the room, her long hair flying out behind her, and tried her best to push back the despair so she would not ruin her mother's expectations of one big happy family for the Thanksgiving holiday.

Though Diane felt she had little to give thanks for that year.


Henry Conner slowly lowered his glass of scotch. "A job," he said tonelessly. "You cannot be serious, Audrey."

Jason did not dare look away from his task. He had been pressed into service at the last minute to stir the gravy while his mother did the final preparations on the turkey. He stepped to the side as his mother barreled past to grasp the ends of the oven pan which filled the other side of the stove.

"Henry, I don't have the time to discuss this right now," Audrey said in a harried voice. "And, really, couldn't you wait until after dinner before you started drinking?"

"Hey, Betty was the one who brought the scotch. Considering how cheap she is the rest of the time--"

"Hush, she'll hear you!" Audrey hissed.

"She's up in the guest room jabbering with one of her friends on her cell phone. She won't be down until there's something more for her to eat."

"I don't know why you insist on insulting her at every turn, I really don't."

"Then the feeling is mutual, because I don't know why in hell you invited her over in the first place."

Jason heard his mother's exasperated sigh suddenly approach his ear as she leaned over the stove. She grabbed the spoon from Jason for a moment. "And this is still not thick enough," she muttered, handing it back. "I just haven't seen her for awhile, Henry, that's all," Audrey said, though to Jason's ears she sounded uncertain. She bustled over to a cabinet and extracted a container of flour. "Ever since we moved here I have not had as much contact with my family as I would have liked."

"Well, I still think you could've chosen better than her to invite to Thanksgiving."

Audrey dropped the container to the counter with a thud and slammed the measuring cup down next to it. "If you don't have anything better to do than insult my relatives and question my judgment, you can at least start getting the turkey out of the oven bag. I need the drippings for the gravy. Really, I've never felt so disorganized on Thanksgiving Day!"

Jason heard his father sigh, followed by another thump and clink of ice. "Then maybe this was not the day to get advice from her about raising your own son."

Audrey hastily combined some flour and water into the measuring cup before bringing it to the pot. "Jason, keep stirring that, please," Audrey said. She glanced over her shoulder and said in a louder voice, "It happened to be very sound advice, Henry, and I wish I had thought of it myself months ago. I would have spared us a lot of grief."

Jason kept his eyes on the pot, though it did not stop him from seeing a few wisps of his mother's Aura swirling around her wrist as she emptied the flour water into the gravy. He noted his father's choice of words: your son instead of our son. It made it harder to see his father on the right side of the dispute.

"Just what do you think Jason could possibly get at this time of year?" Henry asked.

"There must be something, for heaven's sake! Would there be anything at the hospital? That new wing is supposed to be opening soon, isn't it?"

Jason stiffened and turned his head, looking squarely at his father as the man paused with the knife poised above the slit in the over bag. He had not considered the possibility that the Darkness was trying to shepherd him into his father's camp.

Henry briefly narrowed his eyes at his son before turning his gaze back to his wife. "Get real, Audrey. Even the lowest position at a hospital requires graduate-level medical training."

"I'm not talking about a medical internship. Surely they need people to pick up the trash and keep the hallways clean."

"We contract out all of our janitorial services. This is not the seventies, Audrey, and the economy has not exactly been stellar. There's just not as much employment available to teens even during the summer."

Flustered, Audrey nudged Jason aside and took the spoon from him. "I've got it, Jason, thank you." She called out over her shoulder again, "I refuse to believe no one needs any extra help. It's not like this town is on the skids!"

"Is there anything else you need help with, Mom?" Jason said in a loud voice before his father could fire back.

Audrey gave him a small smile. "No, that's fine, dear. You better go tell your Aunt Betty dinner will be ready soon."

Jason paused and nodded, glancing at his father. Henry gave him a level look in return as he lifted the turkey from the oven pan and set it on a large serving platter. Jason started across the room, passing near his father on his way out.

Henry's hand landed on his shoulder. "Just a minute, son."

Audrey looked up and frowned. "Henry, what are you--?"

"I don't think we're quite done with our conversation."

"This is not for his ears! Jason, please go and fetch your Aunt Betty like I said."

Henry's grip on Jason's shoulder tightened. Jason quelled the urge to wrench it away from him. He wanted to hear where the conversation was headed, but not if it meant being used as a pawn in some power struggle between his parents.

"Not for his ears?" Henry said, his tone incredulous. "He's the one you'd have working a job in addition to his schoolwork and his social life. Maybe you should ask him his opinion for once."

Audrey glared at Henry, looking as if she wanted to retort, her Aura suddenly swirling around her in a mad frenzy. Jason's eyes darted towards his father. Was his Aura more active as well, or was it just his imagination? He would have to stare at it to pick up the change in the patterns, and he did not want to give his father any sort of clue as to his abilities.

This was not the kind of question he wanted to answer because he did not know the right answer. Or rather, the safe answer. Yet the very idea that he could be tasked to give an answer was irritating the Darkness; he sensed it just below the surface of the Dark energy which permeated the house.

In the past, this is where the Darkness would make a mistake. It would act rash and force the issue one way or the other. It would become so heavy-handed that the alternatives would become clear. Instead, the Aura around his mother settled. Tendrils swirled around her bosom and between her legs. She let out a small, slow sigh, as tension was replaced with warm, damp pleasure.

So much better, Jason heard the Darkness purr in her mother's mind. No need for all this angst now. No need to get upset. It will all work out. You know what's best for your family, and it's only a matter of time before the others realize it as well. You are such a good mother, Audrey!

Audrey drew herself up and spoke in a softer, more confident tone. "Jason, I will ask your opinion and consider it, just not right now. I have dinner to get ready. Please go do as your mother asks. Henry, I'll need the drippings from the pan now."

Jason nodded once and shrugged his father's hand from his shoulder as he left the room. As he headed for the stairs, his eyes lingered on the telephone. He thought it somewhat ironic that he had spent so much time clandestinely wiring electronics into the house phone lines to detect when anyone was tapping his phone, but never thought he would be prevented from using it in the first place.

Not that he thought anyone could help him right now. All he could do was warn them that his worst fears had been confirmed: the Darkness had become far more rational and calculating. The rules of the game had changed again.


"I gotta tell ya, this is a fine lookin' place ya got here," Ned said with a grin as they strolled down the giant marble staircase.

"Trust me, you would get bored after awhile," said Cassie.

"Mebbe. But it'd take awhile."

"It's not so much the mansion itself," Cassie said as she stepped off the last stair. She turned to face Ned, who still lingered on the final step admiring the carvings on one of the posts which flanked the bottom of the stairs and extended towards the vaulted ceiling. She gestured to her dress. "It's this. And having other people do everything for me. And the lack of privacy."

Ned jumped off the last step, hands deep in his pockets. "Privacy? They seem ta be leaving ya be."

Cassie shook her head. "No, they're not."

Ned raised an eyebrow and looked around. He turned to Cassie and shrugged.

"Clarice!" Cassie suddenly called out.

"Yes, Miss Kendall?"

Ned spun around, eyes wide, and looked up. A maid stood at the railing along the upper floor, near where it ended at a wall, as if she had been waiting out of view to be summoned.

"Tell my mother you're terrible at stealth," said Cassie in a flat voice.

Ned snorted and covered his mouth with his hand.

Clarice's jaw tightened. "Of course, Miss Kendall," she said in a stiff voice. "Anything else I may do for you?"

"I would say 'get lost, ' but I doubt that would work. No, Clarice, that's fine. Please inform my parents that I have finished giving my guest a tour of the mansion, and we will retire to the drawing room until summoned for dinner."

Clarice bowed her head and stepped away, becoming invisible once more.

Ned laughed. "Good one, babe. Love how ya got all snooty with her."

"I don't. I sound too much like my mother when I do that."

Ned's mirth faded immediately from his face. "Um, sorry. I ferget that's a sore spot with ya."

"I feel like I have to play a role even in my own home. I have to act towards the staff, towards my parents, towards everyone as I'm expected to act. I'm afraid if I keep doing it, it won't be an act anymore."

Ned slid an arm around Cassie's waist and drew her close. He wanted to just hug her, but worried if someone else were watching them now. It had not been lost on him that he was always referred to as her "guest" and never her "boyfriend."

"I almost envy you, Ned," Cassie said in a quiet voice as they drifted away from the stairs. "I know you don't care for your home life, but at least you can act the way you want."

Ned wanted to tell her that having parents who didn't care how he acted was not much better, but he caught himself before the words could make it to his mouth; the last thing she needed was more grief.

"Hey wait a sec," Ned said, stopping. "I jus' thought o' something. If yer bein' watched all the time, how come no one walked inta the ballroom when..." He lowered his voice and leaned towards her. " ... ya know, when ya zoned out there."

Cassie's eyes widened. "I don't know. That is really strange, isn't it?"

"An' ya still don't remember any of it?"

"No, and I've been trying to."

"Ya might've been jus' too young."

"Maybe. But it's not just seeing myself which scares me. I want to know who I was talking to. Or who I thought I was talking to. I don't remember ever having any imaginary friends when I was a child. Well, not ones I couldn't see, anyway."

"Huh?"

Cassie blushed, and her lips twitched into a small smile. "I had a collection of stuffed toys and dolls, and I ... I gave them all names and pretended they talked to me."

Ned grinned. "Hey, what kid hasn't, huh? Nuthin' ta be embarrassed about."

Cassie's smile widened, but her eyes still reflected uncertainty. "I think I did more than some. I really had a vivid imagination and thought they could move on their own. The servants would be forever finding them in all parts of the mansion and I'd claim they walked there by themselves."

Ned chuckled. "That's freakin' cool. Kinda like Calvin and Hobbes."

Cassie's eyes took on a faraway look over Ned's shoulder. "I hadn't thought about that for so long," she said in a soft voice. "It's weird, Ned. It's like I'm realizing I hadn't thought much at all about my childhood. It's like everything that matters to me began at puberty, when I developed my Dream Gift."

Ned nodded, then noticed Cassie's gaze. He turned his head and followed it to a section of a wall covered in large portraits. He recognized one of them as Dorothy Kendall, and next to it was a balding, granite-faced man with a strong jaw he assumed was the father. The next was a young girl, perhaps six or so, wearing a pastel blue dress and a gem-studded clip in her wavy brown hair.

"Whatcha lookin' at, babe?" Ned asked, and wandered towards the portrait of the girl. "This is you, huh?"

Cassie blinked. "What? Oh, yes, that's me, but that's not what I was just thinking of. I was thinking of my old playroom."

Ned grinned. "Ya had yer own playroom? I don't remember ya showin' me that."

"That's because we haven't been to it yet."

"Oh? An' where's it at?"

"Right here."

Ned glanced around. "Um..."

Cassie stepped up to her portrait. She grasped the bottom right corner and slid it to the left, revealing a small, recessed button. Her finger hovered over it for an uncertain moment before she pressed it.

Click.

Ned's jaw dropped as the wallboard parted from the wall on the right, swinging out an inch. Cassie let the painting drop back over the button and grasped the separated edge, swinging a heretofore hidden door open.

"Oh wow, extremely cool," Ned gushed. "A mansion complete with hidden passageways and everything! An' ya claimed I'd get bored here!"

"It's not really all that secret, not to my parents or the staff," Cassie said as she fumbled for the light switch. "Goodness, it's been so long I don't remember where ... oh, here it is."

Soft light flooded the room, and Ned stared in awe.

It was easily half again as big as the first floor of his house. Plush pink sofas and chairs were arranged around the edges of the room, like the lounge he had seen upstairs, but sized to fit a small child. A polished oak table, also on the same scale, sported a tiny china tea set. A wardrobe in the far left corner stood open, housing dozens of elegant dresses arranged in order of size from left to right, a chronology of Cassie's growing up. To the right was a large vanity, or at least large in the eyes of a child. Brushes and combs lay in neat arrangement upon the gleaming porcelain surface.

What really caught his attention was the fact that all possible places in the room where one could sit were covered in dolls, figurines, and stuffed animals, all poised to appear as if they really were alive and sitting about having a casual talk, or perhaps sharing some tea.

"Wow," Ned breathed as he stepped into the room. He took a closer look at the nearest stuffed toy, a smiling baby elephant, then ran his finger along the edge of the table. "There ain't a speck o' dust in here."

"Even unused rooms are regularly cleaned," Cassie said in a soft voice from the threshold. She paused a moment more before she stepped inside, her gait somewhat forced. She walked down the exact center of the room and drew her arms in. "My parents would not stand to have even so much as a single cobweb anywhere in this mansion."

Ned walked up to the vanity and tried one of the faucets, and was rewarded with a burst of water which gurgled in the sink. "So what's with the cloak an' dagger fer this place?"

"My parents' idea. They believe they were rich enough that someone might try to kidnap me for ransom. I was told to come here if I ever thought there was someone in the house that shouldn't be." She looked around and shivered. "I haven't been in here for ages."

Ned looked back towards her. "Yeah, we all grow outta things like this, I guess."

Cassie shook her head. "No, it wasn't quite like that. One day, I just stopped coming here."

"Huh. Jus' like that? Nuthin' bad happened here, I hope. I mean, ya never had ta actually hide out here."

"Oh, no, nothing like that. But ... I don't know, Ned, I don't remember exactly why I stopped coming here."

"An' this place ain't joggin' yer noggin 'bout the other memory?"

Cassie sighed and shook her head. "Sorry, but it isn't. Maybe I thought it would. I can't explain why else I would show you this place."

Ned started to turn his head towards Cassie when something caught his attention. "Wait, there's another door over here."

"Yes, there's a small bedroom back there where I could take a nap. But, Ned, you don't have to--"

Ned had already stepped forward and out of sight. Cassie's heart pounded as she heard him turn the knob, open the door, and click on the light. "Heh, small, she says," Ned quipped. "Bigger'n most master bed -- oh, WOW!"

Cassie flinched. Only then did she realize she had advanced no further than the center of the room. Her legs trembled for a moment as if resisting the command to move forward. She finally jogged past the vanity and through the open door. "Ned, what is it? What did you ... oh goodness..."

She trailed off as she stared. The room held a bed which would barely fit one adult but which would have seemed king-sized to a little girl. An elegant canopy was held aloft by posts carved with with images of flowers and climbing vines.

Beyond that, filling nearly the entire opposite wall and standing four feet tall, was what appeared to be a scale model of the mansion. Yet when the eager Ned crouched next to it and carefully tugged at one of its walls until it swung back on tiny hidden hinges, it was clear what it really was.

"It's a doll house!" Ned cried. "Made ta look jus' like the mansion. Wow, I think it's even accurate, too. This is the parlor ya showed me, right? An' the ballroom's over here."

"I had totally forgotten about that," Cassie breathed. "I ... I wouldn't have remembered it if I hadn't seen it."

Ned opened another section of the doll house and smirked. He reached inside and drew out a tiny doll of a suited, white-gloved butler. "Heh, this even looks like James." He tilted his head and peered. "Yeah, I see one in there that's gotta be yer Mom. An' there's some maids, an' another butler. An' ... wait, I see another one, some dude in a suit." He reached his hand inside, but pulled it out again a few seconds later. "Nah, can't reach it from here. Mebbe from the side?"

He reached around the other side of the doll house, his fingers running along the edge. He found the latch and started to open it.

"Ned, stop!" Cassie suddenly cried.

Ned's fingers slipped from the edge, and the section shut with a faint click. "Huh? Whatsamatter?" Ned said, standing up, the butler doll still in his hand.

Cassie heart pounded in mounting fear. She wished she knew why. She knew only that something was inherently wrong about disturbing this playroom. "S-sorry. I just thought ... well ... my parents are obviously preserving this place, and I guess I don't want to put anything out of place."

Ned looked at the doll in his hand. "Oh crap, yeah, I wasn't even thinkin'. I've already gotten ya in enough dutch with yer parental units."

"You haven't, really, just..." Her eyes flicked nervously from the doll to the doll house. "Just put that back exactly where you found it."

"Sure thing, babe." Ned crouched by the doll house and paused as he struggled to remember exactly from where he had taken it. When he found he could not remember, he did not want to upset Cassie, so he nodded in apparent confidence and placed the doll near the top of the marble staircase. He closed up the doll house and stood up. "Yeah, I guess we better get outta here 'fore the servants start thinkin' we're messin' around in here."

Cassie nodded and smiled in relief, but it faltered after he passed, and she had an unobstructed view of the doll house. She stared at it even as she started out of the room, the vague feeling in the back of her head that she should not take her eyes from it for even a moment. She hesitated to turn off the light and felt a sense of trepidation when it became enshrouded in darkness.

"Cassie?" Ned asked in a concerned voice.

Cassie stepped back and pulled the door shut. "Sorry, I guess this place spooks me a little bit," she said, hesitating another few seconds before turning towards him. "I guess because of what happened earlier. We better get going, I was sure I heard James outside when we first came in, and he's the last one I want to make suspicious."

Ned followed her out, jogging to catch up when she picked up her dress and rushed to the door. He had just clicked off the light and started to push the door closed when he heard Cassie's inquisitive voice: "James?"

Ned turned his head as the door became just another part of the wall once more. James was racing up the stairs, but slowed and stopped just short of the top. He hesitated before turning around, his face creased into a puzzled frown.

"James, is there something the matter?" Cassie called out. "You seemed in a bit of a rush."

"A rush?" James asked, his voice as confused as his face. He glanced at the top of the stairs. "Yes, I was needed..." He trailed off, then shook his head. He straightened his tie, cleared his throat, and descended the stairs, once more his prim and proper self. He folded his hands behind him as he reached the bottom. "Madam Kendall has instructed me to tell you that Thanksgiving feast will be served within the hour. She wishes you and your guest to wait quietly in the drawing room." He paused, his supercilious gaze flicking between the two of them. "As I understand you had already informed your mother you would some ten minutes ago."

Cassie suppressed a sigh and took Ned's arm. She held her head up and re-adopted her role, but Ned heard the strain in her voice. "Yes, James, we were a bit side-tracked. I realized there had been one place I had not shown Ned. I am sure Mother would not think less of me for showing him everything the Kendall family fortune has provided."

Cassie led Ned away. She resisted the urge to look back at the playroom door to make sure it was closed. Her memories of the doll house would not come to her. She had played with it, and she felt it had been dear to her, the favorite of all her toys. And yet, she knew, somehow, that it was the reason she had decided never to set foot in the playroom again.

She wished she knew why.

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