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They Need Me

by Robert Buckley © 2008

 

erotic horror fictionThe Abbey of Saint Blaise hunkered on the edge of a bluff above the village at the edge of the Adirondacks, but one approached it from the flank along a roadway just out of sight of the gothic-grotesque monstrosity. There was one final bend of the road before the abbey could be seen, and the effect on a traveler as he rounded the bend was of the building suddenly leaping into view.

"Holy shit!" Frank's outburst startled Lexi who was already unnerved by the building. It didn't help that he slammed on the brakes and her shoulder belt yanked her back into her seat.

"Christ!"

"You said it."

"Thanks ... my shoulder will be sore for a week."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Just drive me to the front door."

He touched the gas and proceeded cautiously past its ramparts and buttresses, as if fearful one of the gargoyles would swoop down and carry off his Cooper.

"So, why are you staying here ... exactly?"

"It's a bit complicated; but, it's a job."

"Entertain me. It looks like we need to drive another mile before we get to anything resembling an entrance."

"Morgana Development is buying the place from the diocese."

"Right ... they're going to turn this fun house into a hotel."

"Yes, well, you heard about that state law that requires full disclosure to any buyer of real estate, about any problems real or reported with properties?"

"You mean the haunting clause?"

"So, you've been keeping up."

"When you asked me to drive you way out here I Googled the place."

"See, the abbey has a reputation for paranormal activity."

Frank chuckled. "Geesh, I wonder why."

"There used to be a monastery here, way back in the 18th century. A bunch of French monks used to minister to a group of Christianized Indians. But the Indians all died off before the monks did. Around 1840 the state took it by eminent domain, kicked the monks out on their asses."

"The diocese put up with that?"

"There was no diocese then. Anyway, the congressional rep was a Know-Nothing ... nativist, very anti-Catholic, and so was the state legislature. They were glad to be rid of a bunch of creepy old monks who didn't speak English."

"So, what did the state do with it?"

"Turned it into a prison."

"Sure, that'll boost the property values."

"The area was pretty remote then."

"Then?"

"I mean it was still practically wilderness. The prisoners they sent up here were isolated, forbidden to talk to each other—just another kind of monk. It made a lot of them crazy, psychotic."

"And now it's an abbey."

"Convent, actually. Late 19th century the state gave it back to the diocese for a song. The Irish were running the legislature by then."

"Lonesome dicks to lonesome chicks."

"You are so crass."

"So, this is freelance, right?"

"Sorta."

"Whadya mean, sorta?"

"The mag is owned by the same guy who owns Morgana."

"What?"

"I guess they figure it's a win-win. They can knock something off the price tag if there's publicity about hauntings. On the other side of the coin, they can use it for marketing, you know, like they did with that jail they turned into a restaurant in Connecticut, and that nuthouse they turned into condos in Massachusetts."

"Christ! So you're shilling; never thought you'd fall this low."

"Lay off, Frank. You got out of the business because you were starving; I haven't had three assignments to string together in a year. Anyway, I'm not planning a puff-piece Halloween squib. There's been some seriously bad shit that's gone down here over the years."

"Yeah, like what?"

"Suicides, as many as ten nuns took a swan off the bluff into the river."

"On the record?"

"Hell, no, you gotta read between the lines in the coroner's reports. They fudged them out of deference to the diocese."

"Good luck proving that. So, what's your angle? The ghosts made them do it?"

"I don't know, Frank. All I know is I made my rent this month, but I don't have a clue how I'm gonna do it next month. Don't say I'm a shill."

He pulled up to an arched doorway with heavy wooden doors. "This must be it. C'mon."

He stood and took in the place. "It looks like fucking Dracula's castle. You sure you want to stay here overnight?"

"I'm a big girl ... been to all the best war zones."

She lifted her bag out of the car. Her t-shirt rode up; he reached for her bared skin, but pulled back. She didn't notice.

She shook her dark hair and readjusted her glasses. He allowed himself to drape his arm over her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Lex. The business isn't what it used to be. I wish ..."

"Wish what?"

"I don't know ... that we could find something else to do ... together."

She smiled but shrugged off his arm. "You're a great guy, Frank. You're a wonderful guy ... you just have these periods when you turn into a complete asshole."

"I don't drink anymore." It came out like a plea.

"I ... I gotta get inside."

"Lexi ... I'd do anything for a second chance."

She hefted her bag but stood in place. "Let me just get through the weekend. Then ... we'll see."

He followed her to the door and lifted the metal knocker. Its boom reverberated through the dense wood. A moment later the door cracked open and a young nun peered through. She said nothing.

"Hello, I'm Alexia Cushing. I'm expected."

The nun nodded and held the door open just enough to admit them. She motioned for them to follow her along a dim corridor, stopped and knocked on a door.

"Yes, enter."

She entered and motioned for them to follow.

The Mother Superior was straight out of central casting: plump, jowly, a pair of nose-pinching spectacles, her face framed by the starched wimple that could in no way be comfortable.

"Thank you, sister," she said, dismissing the nun with a wave of her hand.

She folded her arms on her desk, her forearms hidden within her voluminous sleeves. Lexi felt they were being assessed like two offending students sent to the office for punishment.

"Well, Miss Cushing. The diocese told me to give you my full cooperation, but I'll be honest, I don't approve, not at all."

"I understand ..."

The nun silenced her with a swish of one hand. "There are eight sisters remaining, besides myself. I expect you to respect their privacy. They are not to be interviewed; you will not violate their silence or interfere with their devotions."

"They've taken a vow of silence?"

"No, Miss Cushing. They prefer it and have a right to it."

"I was hoping to ask about the occurrences."

"Nonsense! Souls do not linger here after death. It flies in the face of Catholic doctrine. A ghost is anathema to the teachings of my church. Occurrences ... silly rumors."

"I see."

"Hmm, and who is this ... gentleman. I was not told a man would accompany you ... we absolutely cannot accommodate ..."

"Franklin Oliver, ma'am, at your service. I'm not staying, I merely gave Miss Cushing transport to this lovely cottage of yours."

"Well then, goodbye, Mr. Oliver."

"My pleasure, ma'am."

He turned to go, but leaned and whispered into Lexi's ear, "I'll get someplace in town. Call me on my cell if you need me." She nodded.

"Adieu, then. I'll find my way out."

Lexi smiled and shrugged. The fat nun scowled, then rose as if she were lifted out of her seat by a hydraulic lift.

"I'll show you to your cell."

"Cell?"

"Your room ... accommodations. You are just staying the night, correct?"

"Yes, just the night."

"Very well."

She led her through a maze of corridors then stopped abruptly and pointed toward a door no wider than a coffin.

"It's open, there are no locks. There is a lavatory at the end of the hallway. But I would not recommend traveling the corridors at night. The sisters are taught to discipline and deny their bodies; they hold their water until the morning."

"Um ... okay."

"Well then. Will you take supper with us?"

"No, thank you. I had a very heavy lunch."

"Very well then. There will be no need to stay past the morning; don't feel as though you have to say goodbye. Just leave the cell in proper condition. I trust you'll sleep well, that is, if your imagination does not get the better of you. Otherwise, I believe you will be quite disappointed, Miss Cushing. St. Blaise is a peaceful place."

"Yes, well, thank you, Mother ... Superior."

The nun had turned her back and strode away before Lexi's last words exited her lips.

"Fucking old cunt!" she whispered.

Lexi pushed the door open and entered the room. It was larger than she expected it to be. A narrow bed was set against a wall—the only furniture in the room—and above it a tiny barred window. There was no bathroom that she could make out, but a sink was set into another wall. She stepped over to it and tested the faucets. She dipped her hand in the cool water and wiped some across her face, then she lifted her tee off and wiped her moistened hand across her chest below her collarbone.

The air chilled and refreshed her. She undid her jeans and shimmied them off her hips. She stood with just her bikini clinging to her behind and modesty.

"You are so lovely."

Lexi jumped and turned toward the voice, her arms crossed over her breasts. A squeak of a gasp escaped her throat.

"I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to frighten you."

Lexi peered into the shadow of an alcove she hadn't noticed when she came in. A young postulant clad in a white habit stepped from the shadow and stood out like a figure in an illuminated painting.

"Who ...?"

"I'm so sorry. I'm Sister Theresa. I'm your guide."

"But ... Mother Superior ... she said I wasn't to speak to any of the sisters."

The little nun made a face and opened her arms with her palms up. "She is rather crusty in her way, isn't she?"

"So, you say you're my guide. I'd like to ask about the supposed occurrences ..."

The little girl raised her finger to her cupid's-bow lips. "Shhh, it's not their fault."

"Huh? Whose fault?"

"So sad and needful, the least of God's creatures. It's our obligation to comfort them."

To Lexi the petite girl seemed overwhelmed by her garb. She was at least a head shorter than Lexi.

"Sister ... I'm a little confused."

"I'll explain everything. Please, let your hands fall."

"Huh?"

"I want to look at you."

Lexi's arms fell away from her chest, and while her brain argued that something was amiss she felt perfectly at ease standing mostly naked in front of this strangely curious girl.

"You are so beautiful; your breasts are so pretty. May I touch them?"

Lexi gulped. She was more astounded at her body's willingness to comply than she was at the young woman's request.

"Well ..." She took a step toward the girl.

The young nun approached her like a cloud. Lexi could discern no movement of her feet.

The girl reached out and tenderly cupped Lexi's right breast. Her fingers stroked her nipple causing it to rise and stiffen.

"So, so pretty. What's your name?"

She was barely able to croak out, "Alexia ... Lexi."

"Lexi. That's a pretty name. Look, Lexi, do you think I'm pretty too?"

The sister stepped back and began to wrestle with her habit. Piece by piece it piled on the ground until the girl also stood, completely naked, with throws of wheat-colored hair spilling over her shoulders. She smiled at Lexi.

"Pretty?"

Lexi could only nod. A voice in her brain boomed from a long, faraway corridor: 'What the hell is with this girl?'

Sister Theresa tiptoed toward Lexi until they stood as close as a hair's breadth. The girl kissed Lexi's left breast and swirled her tongue around the nipple. A surge of electricity caused it to stiffen and a companion charge hummed from deep within Lexi's belly.

Lexi fought to call her rational mind back to its proper seat. "Look, uh ... Sister ..."

"Theresa."

"Theresa. I ... I don't want to ... I don't want you to misunderstand."

"What?"

"I ... well; I'm not into other women for one thing."

Theresa kissed her cheek and grinned. "It's not a sin."

"What?"

"It's not a sin if girls love each other. It's true. Girls' love is innocent; it makes Jesus smile. I know it."

This crazy little nun was setting off all sorts of hums and tickles in her belly.

"I ... sister ... really ..."

"Call me Theresa ... please?"

"Okay, Theresa, look, you're very pretty ... and I don't want you to think I wouldn't want to ... you know. But, well ... what would Mother Superior say?"

Theresa frowned. "She doesn't know what love is. She doesn't know what it is to give all your love to souls who need it so much, hunger for it. They want us to."

"They? Want us to what?"

"Oh, Lexi, you're so, so pretty. You'll understand. Kiss me ... please kiss me."

Whatever was happening, Lexi was going along for the ride. She gave herself permission to flick on her auto-pilot and see just where this would take her. She leaned down and her lips met Theresa's. There was another surge from her cunt and her fluids flowed. Theresa guided her to the bed that was barely wide enough to accommodate one person, but she had Lexi lie down and climbed on top of her.

Theresa's hands roamed Lexi's body and she responded by clasping the little nun's hips in her hands.

Theresa kissed her again, then kissed her shoulders, exploring her now with lips as well as hands.

"So pretty, Lexi, your lips and your eyes, your breasts and your belly. I want to kiss them all. Kiss me too?"

Theresa leaned down and offered Lexi her tiny breasts. Lexi raised her head and licked one nipple and then the other.

"Yes, yes ..." Theresa sighed. "It's not a sin. It's good ... it's so good. They'll be pleased."

Theresa's fingers were in Lexi's cunt, her thumb massaging her clit. Lexi's mind floated in a comfortable coddling fog, but her insides were roiling with the need for release. When it came it wracked her body and she cried out for the exquisite torture to stop. Her eyes rolled back and all tension left her body.

*          *          *

Lexi stirred then sat up with a start. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep. She scanned the room for Theresa but she was not there. She began to wonder if she had dreamt the entire scenario.

"Lexi?"

Her body quivered in fear and fascination. Theresa's voice called out from some distance.

"Am I going nuts?" she asked herself.

"Lexi ... come ... they're waiting for you."

Another shiver up her spine brought goose pimples to the surface of her flesh.

"Oh, Jesus." Was she really hearing this? But the voice continued to echo.

She tried to fortify her courage. "C'mon, Lexi. You've been in stranger spots before."

She stood and cast about for her clothes. The room seemed immense in the dim light. Where had she left her jeans; where was her bag?

A cloth, like a shawl, part of Theresa's habit lay across the foot of her bed. She wrapped it around herself. Then she tripped over her handbag. She retrieved her cell phone and stepped toward the door.

"Lexi ... please come."

The voice echoed along the dim corridor. A few bare bulbs shone a feeble light from above. Lexi guessed they were no more than 15-watt bulbs. She steeled herself with a deep breath and followed the voice.

She thought she had walked forever through the murk when Theresa's voice, stronger now, beckoned her to an open door. She stepped through and found herself in another hallway. Peering into the gloom she could see it take a left turn at ninety degrees into another corridor.

Lexi turned the corner.

"Lexi ... oh, you're such a sweet girl to come. They're so lonely; can't you feel it? They need us so much."

Lexi's eyes widened. Still at some distance, it appeared Theresa hovered in the darkness, her feet just inches off the floor. Lexi's heart began to pound in her chest.

There was something else, a presence, masculine and desperate, and despairing.

"They need me, Lexi; they need us. You won't deny them; they've suffered so."

Lexi crept closer, forcing her feet to take each mini-step, trying to resist the fear that would send her screaming in the other direction. She couldn't leave Theresa this way. But the urge to run grew inside her. The presence surrounded her, and she felt like she was being looked at by a horde, rapacious and needful.

"Theresa ... come with me now ... okay?"

"Let them, Lexi ... let them ..."

"Let ... let them what?"

Then Theresa was raised up and laid back, hovering. Lexi watched the impressions of invisible hands gripping her thighs, splaying them apart, and then squeezing her breasts.

"Take me," she said in a long lingering sigh.

Lexi began to back up, fear causing her entire body to tremble. The presence kept pace, then passed her. It blocked her retreat. She pressed the button on her cell phone that would speed-dial Frank.

The presence closed in. Such want, such desire for her. Her thighs were wet, syrupy.

*          *          *

Frank groped for his phone on the flimsy nightstand. He held it to his ear and grunted, "Hunghh?"

"Frank."

He shook himself. "Lexi?"

"Oh, Frank ... I'm so scared."

"Lexi ... what? Lexi!" He heard her phone fall, and then a groan.

Frank pulled his clothes on haphazardly and snatched up his keys. He burst through the door of the cheap motel room leaving it open as he sprinted to his car.

He glanced at the dashboard clock. It wasn't quite 4 a.m. He stepped on the accelerator and nearly slid off the road a few times. Finally he found his way to the road to the abbey; it seemed even longer than the first time he'd driven it in broad daylight.

He drove right up to the door and leaned on the horn. Then he got out and pounded. There was no answer; he considered getting back in the car and driving it through the door when it opened.

The Mother Superior stood rubbing her eyes. "What's the meaning of this? What do you think you're ...?"

"Lexi!"

"What? What about her?"

"Where is she?"

"In bed I would suppose ... now stop right there!"

He pushed past her through the door.

"I will call the police!"

"Do that. She called me; she's in trouble. Where is she?"

"Have you been drinking, young man?"

"Jesus, Mary and fucking Joseph! Where the hell is she!"

The old nun's eyes bulged and her mouth fell open. "I will not stand here and listen to such blasphemy."

"You old bat; I will pound the living shit out of you if you don't tell me where the fuck she is!"

Before she could answer a chorus of screams echoed along the hall as seven nuns in their nightclothes ran between them, their eyes wide with fright."

"Sisters! What's the matter with you?"

"What the hell is going on?" Frank demanded.

"Mother! Help me ... please!"

They both turned to see the meek, little nun who had met Frank and Lexi at the door. She too was in her nightclothes, her arms held out, imploring Mother Superior to come to her. But something was dragging her backward along the hall."

"Sister Antonia ... child? What is happening?"

The nun cried. "They ... they ... please!"

She was pulled backward and then dragged around a corner. Frank and Mother Superior looked at each other, then Frank sprinted after the girl. Mother Superior followed like an agitated goose.

Frank turned the corner and could see the girl being taken against her will along the corridor, but by what? It was faster than Frank. The girl disappeared around another corner. Frank's leg muscles strained as he gave chase. The place was so damned dark and the corridors so damned long.

Then he heard the girl's voice and strained to see into the shadow at the end of the hall. The little nun's clothing was being shredded, but the fear had left her voice.

"Yes, yes ... please, take me ... I'm so sorry ... poor souls."

Frank jogged toward her voice. When he reached her she was unconscious, lying on the floor naked, her legs splayed and her pussy hair wet and matted.

He knelt down and took her pulse. She appeared to be thoroughly exhausted.

"Oh, dear God!" The Mother Superior lumbered next to them. "What's happened to her?"

"Damned if I know. She's out of it."

Groans and whimpers echoed along the walls.

"Lexi." Frank stood and ran into the darkness. Mother Superior followed as best she could.

There were two voices, distinctly female; he knew one was Lexi. Their sounds: The whimpers and coos, and moans. They were getting fucked. A knot began to tighten in Frank's stomach, afraid of what he would find.

He turned and entered a doorway, following the voices. Nothing but unintelligible sounds now, but louder.

He turned the corner and froze in place. A second or two later he heard Mother Superior gasp behind him.

Lexi stood naked with her breasts pressed against the wall, straining on her tiptoes as she raised her ass in a presentation.

"Please," she hissed "... take me ... take me."

Frank's jaw fell as he watched Lexi's anus stretch and distend, the ring of flesh curl inward and then out in a semblance of penetration.

Frank stepped toward her, rage burning his cheeks and ears as the invisible cock invaded his girl.

But the atmosphere had turned gelatinous; each step was a struggle, his effort a waking nightmare in which he could gain no ground.

A shriek broke the spell. Mother Superior, her hands clasping her face, whimpered, "You!"

Frank turned and saw a young girl, ashen hair tumbling in a riotous cascade over her shoulders, move toward Mother Superior, though she hadn't taken a step ... as if the corridor was telescoping in on itself.

Frank grabbed Lexi around the waist and pulled her away from the wall, then lifted her into his arms. He retreated the way he came, back to where Sister Antonia lay just returning to consciousness. He stood Lexi on her feet and tugged the other woman up by the arm.

"C'mon, don't stop."

"Oh, Frank, they need me ... they need me."

"Need me," the little nun echoed.

"Horseshit!" Frank strained to drag both women toward the entrance, but the floor felt like it was sliding beneath him pulling them all back. He pushed off with a surge of adrenaline, and then they were outside.

The other sisters had gathered some yards from the abbey near the edge of the bluff. One held a cell phone to her ear.

A moment later a car with red and blue lights flashing came around the last bend in the road. The two cops ran up to them.

"What's going on here?" the older one demanded, but then his eyes fixed on something in the distance.

Frank and the sisters followed his line of sight. Mother Superior was lumbering across the lawn as fast as her legs could take her. She approached the edge of the bluff.

"Sister! Sister! Stop!"

She never did. The nuns screamed as she tumbled over the edge.

*          *          *

Frank waited for the doctor in the town clinic's waiting room. Finally he and the police sergeant emerged.

"We did a rape kit on both of them, even though they insisted they weren't raped," the doctor said. "They're in shock, it's not unusual."

"Mr. Oliver," the sergeant said, his voice a somber baritone. "Did you see who did this to your friend, and the sister?"

Frank shook his head, then held it in his hands. "I didn't see who ... I didn't see what."

"Do you have any idea why the Mother Superior would ... well, maybe it was an accident. She may have just panicked."

"I didn't know the woman. Just met her yesterday afternoon. Don't you guys have any idea?"

"We searched the abbey. Every corner. No sign of any intruders. Look, Mr. Oliver, you better get some rest. Miss Cushing will be staying overnight ... that right, Doc?"

"Yes, just for observation."

"One of my men drove your car back to your motel. I'll drop you off. The District Attorney will be in touch if we need any more information."

"Thanks."

*          *          *

Almost two months later Frank and Lexi sat on the balcony of his condo, she stirring a cup of tea and he surreptitiously studying her face for any sign that she might want to talk of the ordeal. She had said nothing for weeks afterward, but was beginning to let it go, bit by bit.

"What's that envelope you keep playing with?" he said as he freshened her cup.

She shrugged. "A hundred-dollar check. My quit fee from the magazine. They cancelled the story; I probably couldn't have written it anyway."

"Maybe you should; might help you come to grips with what happened."

"Jesus, Frank, what did happen?"

"You tell me."

She shook her head and held herself in a tight hug. "Frank, whatever it was ... it was so ... needy. I could sense it's longing, its desire ... no ... lust ... no ... that's not it either. It was so ... melancholy. But its want ... it wanted me. I never ever felt so wanted ... it was like an incredible aphrodisiac. I had to let myself ... surrender."

They said nothing for a moment, then Frank tore open the rest of the day's mail.

"It's a letter from the DA's office."

"Oh?"

"Let's see ... Dear Ms. Cushing ... um ... yadda yadda ... of course you know by now that your rape kit came back negative for seminal fluid although ... um ... signs of sexual activity ... case is inactive for now, but could be reopened ... etc."

"Don't read any more."

"Wait ... there's something else. It's a note from one of the investigators ... it's not on official stationery. She says they found a nun's diary when they searched the abbey, from way back in the 1920s. Shit ... listen to this: entries mentioned a young postulant ... Holy Shit, Lex, this girl ... she's described the same way you described Theresa."

"What?"

"Yeah, says she was orphaned and brought to the convent as a postulant, but she was afraid or homesick or something. She was locked in her room and left to cry and scream on the orders of the Mother Superior. Jesus, some asshole people used to do that to their kids; they thought it cured them of being afraid of the dark."

"What else does it say?"

"She disappeared."

"How? When?"

"According to the diary, when the other nuns went to let her out the next morning she was gone ... vanished. As if she had disappeared into the walls of the abbey."

"Oh, my God. The Mother Superior ...?"

"No way ... the old battleaxe we met? She'd have to be over a hundred years old. I don't think even she was that cruel. Oh, by the way, they're writing off Mother Superior's swan dive as an accidental death brought on by panic and disorientation. What a lot of bullshit ... she was headed in a straight line and had no intention of stopping."

"I don't want to hear any more. Never again ... okay?"

"Sure, Lex. But, there's one thing."

"What?"

"About being wanted ... totally."

"Yes?"

"That's how much I want you."

"Then take me to bed. Fuck me until I'm not scared anymore ... ever again."


_______
© 2008 Robert Buckley. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

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