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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2017965-Abstinence
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Horror/Scary · #2017965
You amaze me. So innocent. I suspect it has nothing to do with his heart.
“No, they don't know about you.”

That was the beginning of the fight. Paul should have known better not to strike when someone is down, but he could not stop his stupidity and let fly with, “How could they not know about me? About us? We live together and you never told your family?”

“They're old fashioned.”

“So Vicky, you kept me a secret? Does the word honesty mean anything to you?”

“Please, Paul I have to go. I will be back next weekend and we will talk this through.”

“Family emergency? You know, I didn't even know that you had family. You never talk about them.”

“See, then your argument is invalid. If you didn't know they existed how could you be upset if I never mentioned you to them?”

“Somewhere there is logic in that. I am not sure where, but it makes sense. What kind of family emergency?”

“It's my grandmother. She’s very old. The matriarch of the family.”

“Big family?” Paul flexed his muscles staring at himself in the mirror.

“Yes. Grandmother has her hand in everyone's lives. That's why I left. Everything my sisters, cousins and I did had to be approved by her. Clothes, schools, boyfriends, husbands, what clubs we could join, where we could work.”

“Damn. sounds like a cult. Did you live on a compound?”

“You wouldn't understand. It's common where I am from. Lots of families are run the same way. Every fall she does the same thing, especially to those of us who have left the fold. She claims she's close to death and demands that the family gather. Lots of weeping, reminiscing, reading of old letters and diaries.”

“I know what you mean. My great aunt died a couple years back and all everyone did for the whole wake was go through old photo albums and her letters like she was some saint.”

“Grandmother is not a saint. And we don't have many family photo albums.”

“I noticed that, you don't have many pictures around of anyone. I guess that’s why I figured you were all alone like myself. No family, I mean. What about grandpa? He still with the living?”

“Yes and no.”

“Oh. Sorry. I get it. Alzheimer’s, huh? Nasty, they don't know who, what, when, anymore.”

“The drive up will be nice and relaxing. The leaves are still in peak color. I will be back once everything calms down. Do me a favor?”

“If I can.”

“Don't come chasing up there after me, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because there will be enough problems dealing with the queen of the dead, without you adding to the commotion.”

“Queen of the dead? That's kind of harsh.”

“Just a nickname. Paul promise me.”

“Yeah sure.”

He played that conversation over and over in his head as he drove up the interstate headed toward upstate New York. He had made a promise to stay away and she had promised to stay in touch. After not hearing from her in a week, he dropped off her cat at the neighbors, armed the GPS, filled the car with gas and headed north.

A voice brought him back to the road. “Destination point five miles on the right.”

Stopping for a coffee, Paul asked the waitress if she knew Vicky, Victoria Wellsnap. She was a tall woman dressed like she had been working in a kitchen all day. She came around the counter wiping her hands on a long thin towel that she nervously twisted in to a rope.

“I know Vicky. She's up at the big spooky looking place on the hill. Grandmother is sick. Happens every year at this time. Change of seasons I guess. You a good friend of hers?”

“Vicky? Yeah. We’re close friends.”

“But she doesn't know you're here does she?”

“No.”

“You have any family? Vicky's family is huge. Everyone is related some way or another to grandmother.”

“Just me.”

Come up here all by yourself? All on your own accord?” She escorted Paul to the window and pointed to an old Victorian mansion up on a hill. As Paul looked at the house the woman wrapped the towel around Paul’s neck and waited for him to lose consciousness.

“So, Victoria is this him?”

“Yes grandmother.”

“What does he know?”

“Nothing. I told him nothing. He's not very bright, but very athletic. Look at the muscle tone.”

“Smart enough to follow you up here. What do you suppose is in their nature? To be treated with triviality, ignored and then through some creative internal lustful ambition they chase after you like stalking prey.”

“Abstinence I guess makes the heart grow fonder.”

“You amaze me. So innocent. I suspect it has nothing to do with his heart. You did well child.” Grandmother stroked Victoria's long hair. “Once again you have lured a fine specimen.”

Victoria took her seat around the long table with the other women all dressed in formal attire. Strapped to the table was the naked body of Paul. He twisted his head and looked over to Victoria.

“What is this? Who are you? I thought you loved me?”

“Welcome to my family Paul. You should know that I did like you. You wanted me to introduce you to my family. Well, here they are.” She pointed to the collected group. Among them was the woman from the coffee shop honing a rather large bladed knife? “You will live on in all of us.”

“Live on. Oh thank god, I thought you were about to kill me.”

“Oh, we are. And then we will devour your sweet grilled flesh served with roasted autumn vegetables and a local wine. At midnight we will summon the devil and he will suck the life from your heart.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s simple, sweetie. For us to live we have to eat the flesh of a young man, drink his blood and dance with grandpa in the pale moonlight of the harvest moon.”

words:990
© Copyright 2014 Duane Engelhardt (dmengel54 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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