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Deep in the Dark Pt. 6.1

Male Orc x Female Reader

You were not expecting his apartment to basically be a luxury condo but here you are, in the middle of his livingroom taking in the immaculate décor. You had in mind that he lives in a modest bachelor pad, but this is far far from what you thought of.

"Not what you were expecting?" Sloan asks, still pulling his shoes off at the door.

He had somehow convinced you to get ready for today's date at his place since it would be easier for the both of you to get ready at the same place instead of meeting up later or him coming back just to pick you up. You really didn't care about his reasons, you were more curious to see his place.

"Yeah, this is..." you don't want to be rude and ask how he affords this when you both work the same job, but damn you had to know.

"My friends from highschool had the same reaction when they first saw this place. To be honest I've only had this place for a couple years, before that I was living with my grandmother trying to save up to put a down payment on a house nearby... but things happened..." he cringes and sighs.

You really really want to know what happened, but you don't want pry seeing how uncomfortable he is.

"You don't have have to talk about it if you don't want to you. Anyways don't we need to get ready?" you try and change the subject but he walks off still looking stiff.

Worried that you might have messed up you start fishing in your purse for your phone to ask Liz for advise. Sloan comes back though with a book in his hand and a nervous smile on his face.

"It's nothing bad, just weird I guess...My friends had a good laugh at it when they saw the cover," he hands you the book cover down and looks away.

Just by looking at the back you can already tell that it's a romance novel and the summary is very well written, what's so bad about the cover? You flip it over and nearly drop it as you choke back your laughter.

There, dead center on the cover was a younger Sloan in a firefighter get up doing something that's supposed to be a sexy pose.

"Mmhmm, I see," you try really hard to keep your composure but it's so difficult.

He sighs, rolling his eyes as he turns back to you, "It's ok, you can laugh."

You shake your head and take a few deep breaths to pull yourself together, "I'm good, I'm good. Just...Wow. Who's idea was this?"

"Remember my friend who did the impromptu tattoos? Well she's now a best selling smut author and I'm one of her top models for the book covers," He admits.

"There are more books that you're on? Wait you still model?" you have so many questions about this side career of his.

"Oh gods what have I started," he laughs. "Yes there's more, but why don't we save that for later. Like you said, we should probably start getting ready." Sloan uses your earlier subject change against you with a much more relaxed smile.

"Oh alright, but I will see those covers one way or another. Even if I have to hunt down your friend...Honey Royal?" you look at the author name and Sloan snorts.

"She used a name generator, her real name is Rae. Come on, I promise you I'll show you everything that has my face on it. Even the calendars. Now let's start getting ready," he walks by you and pinches your ass making you yelp and laugh.

After you slap his ass back in retaliation you grab your stuff and follow him to his room. It's not as large as you'd thought it'd be given the size of his livingroom but it's still pretty spacious. His bed is quite large and well stocked with pillows of different sizes. You're nearly temped to just jump on it and test how comfy it is, but you'll wait till later tonight.

"You can set your bags on the bed. Shower first or do you need a minute to get your things out and organized?" Sloan asks, opening the door to a ridiculously luxurious looking bathroom.

You didn't even give yourself time to think before blurting out shower. Sloan laughs and starts to strip, you quickly shimmy out of your casual wear before following him into the bathroom while trying not to act excited.

The bathroom is impressively large but as Sloan said before the shower itself is a bit small, luckily the shower head is on the ceiling.

"It'll be a bit cramped if we shower together, do you want to go first or-" He was turning the water on when he pauses to look back at you. A playful and devious smile growing by the second.

"Or maybe you'd like to join me?"

You give him a smile and walk up to him, as you get closer he starts walking backwards into the shower until he's under the raining steamy water. When you enter he takes no time at all lifting you into his arms and pinning you against the wall.

His lips find your neck and you quickly wrap your legs around him to keep yourself up. Little by little he nibbles at you which elicits a symphony of moans and pleas from your lips.

After a few minutes he sets you down and kneels before you. Dripping and flustered with obvious need between his legs, Sloan takes a deep breath before grabbing a bottle of body wash. He jokingly shakes it in a lewd manner making you laugh, but when the white soap squirts out you nearly double over.

"You're ridiculous," you laugh, rolling your eyes.

"Only for you," he smiles as he lathers the soap between his hands.

You can't help the fluttering feelings when he talks like that and at this point you have to admit to yourself that you're clearly smitten. You never thought you'd be this comfortable with anyone, daring to open up this much so fast.

You're quickly pulled from thinking about how he makes you feel emotionally when he licks your clit as he soaps up your legs. Now all you can think about is how he makes you feel. You grip the rail behind you to balance yourself when he slips his tongue between your folds. The steam and heat from the shower start to make you a little dizzy mixed with the heat between your legs, so start bucking your hips hoping he'll get the memo. And he does.

Sloan parts his mouth from you and replaces it with his fingers. You nearly slip, unable to keep yourself steady with how deep he's driving himself into you. He holds you, kneading his fingers into your hip as he kisses you wherever he can. You cum hard and Sloan has to hold you as you come down.

"You're spoiling me too much," you laugh against him, still catching you breath.

"Maybe I like spoiling you," he kisses your forehead.

You try and reach down to return the favor but he stops you saying that the hot water will run out soon. You grimace but you go along, not a fan of cold showers.

He finishes up first, giving you a bit more room to rinse your hair out when he leaves. You're a bit uneasy with how giving he is towards you, feeling like there's such an imbalance. You know it's going to gnaw at you, but it feels like one of those things that can wait for another day...you don't want to ruin the mood for the first date.

When you finally get out you see that Sloan is finishing up drying his hair and smell that decadent cologne that you've come to love. You quickly grab a towel and start drying off, trying to distract yourself from staring at him though you admittedly still glance his way.

"Do you want help with your braid?" you ask him as he sets the hair blow dryer down.

He scratches the side of his head as he thinks about it, his smile twisting into something complicated. "As much as I'd like to say yes, I'm going to have to decline this time."

It was the first time he's said no to you about helping with his hair. The feeling from before came back and curdled in your stomach. You do your best not to show your feelings and start drying your hair off. Sloan continues to get ready, his hair still loose and wavy.

You finish with your hair and go back into his bedroom to start getting dressed. You debate over the two sets of lingerie you brought, one that you know he likes and the brand new one you just bought. When you turn to make sure he wasn't peeking at your spread you see that the bathroom door has been closed.

You do your best to ignore this too and set to work on getting dressed. It's almost as if you're on autopilot while you get ready, blankly putting yourself together while trying to keep it together.

You hear the door to the bathroom open and Sloan comes out with an immaculately complicated set of braids. His normal braid is hanging off his shoulder, strands of silver woven into it and a couple smaller braids on the side that lace into the larger one.

"Oh wow..." is all you could manage to say. You've seen orcs with complex braids but nothing this elaborate for a simple first date.

He smiles and quickly looks away. It makes you feel as if you said something wrong.

"I uh-" you both say and sort of clam up after that.

Well this is awkward...

Sloan tries to look anywhere but at you until he finally stomps your way, picking you up and kissing you breathless. He's relentless with his hands all over you and his mouth doing things to you that you would soon not forget. When he finally parts from you, his eyes are glazed over and his breath is ragged.

"Gods I want you now..." he nips at your neck and you shiver at the heated intimacy. He laughs and nips you a couple more times before setting you down, "But I'll behave and wait."

You have to take a few secretive deep breaths to calm yourself before stealing away to the bathroom to finish getting ready. It's difficult to focus but eventually you go through your terrible habit of focusing on focusing enough to actually finish getting ready.

When you leave the bathroom you look around the room for Sloan but he's nowhere to be seen. You take a few steps out and hear the faint sound of jazz. Walking further out into the livingroom you see him slipping into a well tailored jacket that goes well with the silver in his braid. He turns around and gives a little jump, his eyes all over you as his smile widens.

"However did I get so lucky?" he saunters up to you, his hands sliding onto your hips as he kisses your cheek. "You look absolutely lovely my angel."

"And you look very very handsome," you reach up and kiss him back.

Sloan gives you a soft sweet look that stirs your heart. You can't recall a time that anyone ever looked at you with this much adoration.

"If we stand here and look at each other like this much longer I don't think we're going to be leaving the apartment," he laughs. "I know I said I wanted to start with the walk around the park but would you mind if we hit the café first, I'm a bit hungry and in need of caffeine."

Coffee and breakfast sounds good right now, especially since you've skipped out on both this morning. "Sounds like a plan," you smile.

"Awesome...Oh and before I forget," Sloan starts to walk away beckoning you to follow. He takes you into an office with some interesting things laid out on his desk. You look at the lay out and feel the heat in your cheeks rise. Toys, lots and lots of toys...

"Don't think I forgot about the bet my angel," he purrs into your ear.

To be honest you sort of did forget, but this was way beyond what you thought he'd bring into the relationship this early on. Everything he's got on the desk gives you control, rope, a remote controlled cock ring, handcuffs, a strap-on, and somethings you've never seen before.

"If you need sometime to think about what you want to pick out, we have all day," he places a hand on your hip and nudges up next to you. "I'll be up for whatever you choose."

You look around but you can't help but to keep going back to the cock ring. Having that sort of control would be interesting and it would be a nice experiment into getting out of what you've thought sex should be.

"I think I'll go with this," you tell him, picking it up with a smile.

"If that's what you want," he replies, the lilt in his voice suggesting something more.

You're not sure what he's trying to tease out of you but you're feeling a bit bold what with him being this forward this early on.

"All day, I want you to wear it all day," you stretch out the ring and watch as his mouth hangs open in shock.

It takes him a second longer to process what you've just said but when he comes to he's shoving everything off his desk and thrusting you up on. Before you knew it he's kissing you all over and unzipping his pants.

Oh gods what have I started!

His tongue licks the rim of your ear, hot breath making you dizzy and unable to concentrate. Sloan unleashes his harden dick from his pants, already dripping with precum.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me angel," his voice is gravelly and low. "I have to keep reminding myself to behave around you, not let how I really feel about you show through all the time or else I might scare you away but you certainly don't make it easy..."

His hand slides under and up your dress but you stop him by crossing your legs. He grumbles then hisses when you slide the ring over his cock. "Show me how you really feel about me after you've worn this all day long," you slip off the desk and pinch his butt while slipping passed him.

You make your way back to the bathroom to straighten up the mess he made of you. Your lipstick is smeared and your earrings are about to fall out and your hair is a disaster. Sloan hasn't made any attempts in coming after you, a sign that he's probably trying to go soft so he can tuck his cock back in. You try not to pay that whole scenario further mind, afraid that you'll want to march back in there and see how he's doing.

After cleaning yourself up you go back into the livingroom and see a very composed Sloan ready to leave.

"Shall we?" he holds out his hand and you go up to take it. As you reach out you see a small key fob with controls on it. You quickly grab it and ignore the smug look rising on his face.

~~~~~

It's a short drive to the café which you're quite thankful for. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you got into the car. Sloan mentions some good recommendations and his favorite blend, all of which sounds amazing.

The café itself is rustic and calm, sort of out of place is the downtown setting but very welcoming. The smell of cinnamon and coffee fills the air and it fits so well with the décor. Walking up to the counter you notice the beautiful yet faded piano in the corner. A couple walks passed it and the one of the girls giggles as she presses the keys.

Sloan and you order your coffee and breakfast, the orc barista giving him a once over and then nodding at you as if she knows something you don't.

"I'll bring your order over once it's ready, sit wherever you like," she smiles at the both of you.

He escorts you over to a table near the piano and ever the gentleman, pulls out the seat for you.

"Why thank you sir," you tease as he takes his seat.

He rolls his eyes and starts asking you about what sort of music you like listening to. For the next several minutes the both of you go back and forth about your preferences and mutual distaste for certain overplayed and overhyped songs.

The barista comes by with your coffees saying that the breakfast will be just a tad bit longer. You take a sip of the brew and it's absolutely wonderful. It's rich and smooth and not as bitter as the stuff you get in the breakroom.

"How is it?" Sloan asks.

"Probably the best damn coffee I've ever had," you smile over your cup.

"That good huh?" he laughs then takes a sip of his while looking over at the piano.

"Do you play?" you ask.

"Only when I'm here and have nothing better to do all day. I really wanted one in my apartment but getting one up that high would be a nightmare and I'm not about to settle for a keyboard," he pauses and takes another sip. "Why? Do you want to hear me play?"

You try not to show your curiosity but you fail with your twisted smile and nod your head. Sloan laughs but gets up anyways to go sit at the piano. A couple people turn to look his way as if they've been waiting to hear him play since he's arrived.

"Got any requests angel?" he asks, stretching out his fingers and wiggling them over the keys. Oddly enough you decide on Earth Angel since you really couldn't think of anything off the top of your head. He nods and starts up a jazzy tune that starts to transition into the song. You can't help but to stare at him like a love stricken fool and at this point you couldn't even bring yourself to give a damn about it.

Halfway into the song the barista comes back around with the breakfast and grins at you, "He's rather smitten with you isn't he? I've never seen him go above and beyond with his braids. He must be really serious about you."

It takes you a second to try and understand what she's getting at but something is still going over your head.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, completely unaware.

"It's all in the braids. Different styles and the complexity have different meanings. His says...well, I really shouldn't say." She looks at him and back to you with a cat like grin.

Before you can ask more about the braids a couple walks in and she rushes back to the counter. You try to enjoy the rest of the song that Sloan is playing but the whole comment that the barista threw at you has you a bit off.

Sloan finishes playing and his eyes light up when he sees the breakfast at table.

"So how was it?" he asks, slipping back into his seat and taking a sip of his coffee.

"How was what? Oh right yeah you're playing sorry lost in thought. It was amazing, I really had no idea you could play." you try and push those earlier thoughts to the back of your head.

Just going to start a long list of things we'll get to another time, don't want to ruin the date!

"I wanted to be a pianist like my grandad was but I don't have the talent that he possessed. He could play all night long if it weren't for my nana coming into the parlor to drag him to bed," he laughs but you can tell there's something bothering him.

There's an odd bit of silence then which he quickly dismisses by clearing his throat and talking about breakfast. You play along, not wanting to dive into whatever that was.

The food is amazing, it's filling but not really heavy. Sloan does his best not to scarf down his and you know for sure he's trying since he hasn't eaten since yesterday. When you finally finish up you walk back to his car to drop off the pastries you ordered earlier.

Sloan looks down at his watch and then to his phone, "How are you feeling? Not too full?"

"No, I'm fine. Is there something that we're late for?" you ask, remembering his itinerary.

"Actually we're making great time. If we walk through the park we'll make it to the outdoor theatre by the time the first show starts," he grins, taking your hand in his.

The park he walks you to is pretty large and it's more of a series of smaller parks that make up one large one. The first one is filled with flowers and a reflection pond. There's old fashion lamps that line the walkways and you almost wish you could come back at night to see them lit up.

The second park is filled with art installments that were donated to the city by various artists. You and Sloan took pictures together next to your favorite ones and if you were lucky another couple would come by and offer to help take the pictures.

The third park is your favorite by far. It's filled with stalls and smells like spices and pine. Sloan takes you to a couple of his favorites that sell pickled vegetables, homemade breads, and soaps. The little old ladies at some of the stalls recognize him immediately and start to tease him and ask questions about you. He looks genuinely flustered and you can't help but to think how cute he is.

After a while the both of you have visited every stall and decide to head to the fourth park. There's a small band playing music in the middle with a few couples gathered around.

"I think they're doing their free dance lessons today, wanna try?" he asks.

You've always wanted to try and learn how to dance, even just as a hobby but you remember Marcus making fun of you for trying. You mentally slap yourself for thinking about him while you're with Sloan.

"Only if you want to and only if you don't mind my two left feet," you quip.

"Then with my poor sense of timing, our instructor will be in for one hell of a class," Sloan laughs.

You join in on the class and even though both of you are equally terrible you still have fun. The instructor stops you several times, you for your feet position and Sloan for his posture. After a hour most the couples have gone but you two stay behind for one last song with an almost tango under your belt.

The instructor looks somewhat pleased with the progress you both made considering how bad you both are and offers their card.

"I can't believe that after one whole damn hour I can barely dance the tango," Sloan groans as he plops on the bench.

You take a seat next to him and peel off your shoes to let your feet breathe real quick. "I told you I have two left feet, though I must say even after all that I had fun...I'm still having fun."

Sloan snuggles up to you and holds you close, not caring about the onlookers. "I'm glad. How are your feet? They must hurt like hell after going like that for so long."

"Just overheating and a bit of cramping in the heel but nothing too serious. I'll be ready to go in a few minutes," you stretch out your feet and wince at the cramp beginning in your toes.

"Oh no," you cringe. "Charley horse."

It hurts like hell and it just keeps getting worse. It's stiffening and feels like it just wants to be pulled right out. Sloan kneels down off the bench and takes the foot that you've been trying to stretch out.

"Where is it?" he asks.

"Toes, all of them," you have to hold in the need to scream when he starts working the cramps out of your toes. After a few minutes and a few odd looks from strangers, the cramping is finally gone.

"Better?" he brushes himself off and gets back on the bench.

"Yeah, thanks...and sorry..."you feel a tad bit embarrassed that he had to get down to rub your foot and in a public park of all places.

"No need to be sorry, these things happen." he shrugs off your apology and looks at the time.

"If we leave now we can make the first show. If we leave in thirty minutes we can make the second one. Your choice, I just want you to be comfortable," he kisses your forehead and nudges his head against yours.

You really want to see the first show, Sloan had hyped it up for you a while back. It's a community theatre and the local choir putting on a musical based on one of your favorite books. He found out about it from an old friend who's in the theatre so you know he probably wants to see it too.

You quickly rummage through your purse for Band-Aids and a pain killer. "Give me a couple minutes and I'll be ready to go."

You apply the Band-Aids to the areas you feel like blisters will start forming and take the medicine to ease your still aching feet. Slipping your shoes back on and taking a quick test stand you feel happy with yourself for not wobbling even once.

As you place the trash back in your purse since there's no garbage can around, you feel a familiar key fob you almost forgot about.

Not yet...

After a couple minutes of stretching Sloan and you finally make it to the last park where they've just started to file people into the outdoor theatre. Sloan rented a couple lawn chairs and bought a couple drinks at the concession stand. Lucky for the both of you his friend had the foresight to reserve a good spot on the grass for them by standing on it.

"Over here!" he yells at the both of you.

A tall slender elf with bright red hair waves the both of you his way. He's in all black so he's most likely a stagehand or a technician.

"Rynan long time no see," Sloan reaches out his arm and the elf extends his, both grabbing each other's arm.

"Truly, and who's your..." Rynan pauses looking at you then Sloan the you again. "Friend?"

You suddenly got the same feeling you had at the café when the barista was talking about the braids. Just what the hell do they imply?

Sloan introduces you but never corrects the friend attached to it. Rynan starts talking it up with Sloan and you and bringing up some rather embarrassing school mishaps they got involved with. After a few minutes a few other guys show up and greet Sloan and you. Sloan talks to his old friends but Rynan seems to back a bit away a towards you.

"So how long have you two known each other and how did you meet?" he asks.

"For a couple months, I just started working at the resort." you tell him, feeling the weight of his question.

His brow hikes up and he looks back towards Sloan then you. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but are you two just you know friends with benefits or something more? It's just, yes I know it's a strange question but I've never seen him this serious about someone he's know for such a short amount of time and I just don't want to see him hurt over something one sided and-"

"We're not friends with benefits I can assure you that. As far as what we are, I can't say for sure just yet since we literally just started dating. We're trying to not rush things, that's something we both agreed on," you interrupt Rynan's rant, hoping that you can put him at ease.

He sighs and shrugs and for a moment you think he's going to walk off but he's still got more to say. "Listen I know I'm being nosey and that it's none of my business but Sloan is my friend. I just, he's been through a lot and I don't think he can take a heart break right now."

"I guess the same could be said for me," you admit and watch as Rynan looks at you with confusion.

"Listen I get it, Sloan is your friend and you don't want to see him hurt. But when you come at me like you have been without knowing or even trying to know anything about me then it's like you've already decided I'm not worth it," you snap at him.

This wasn't how you pictured your first meeting with his friends to go. You imagined them a lot more relaxed and less accusing than this.

Rynan opens his mouth to say something then quickly closes it as if he's realizing how careful he needs to be.

"I guess I did jump the gun there didn't I? It's just the last girl he tried to date was a total gold digger and he has a terrible tendency to-"

"Be blinded by love? Got those rose tinted glasses on?" you smile and shrug

"Exactly!" Rynan rolls his eyes back with his head.

"It can be a bit much to be honest. I'm still not sure if he's just insecure or if he's just like that," you almost bite your words but it felt good to get it out.

"Honestly I think it's a bit of both. Dude really didn't start dating till after college so he probably feel like he's lacking in some areas so he has to make it up by being over the top romantic." Rynan admits, his mood towards you rapidly changing.

"But if it ever gets to be too overwhelming you can say that you'll give me a call and ask for full details about summer camp freshman year, that'll get him to clam up," Rynan pulls out a small notebook and writes his number on it.

Sloan comes back just as he's handing it over and gives you both a curious look.

"She's a good girl, don't piss her off or I'll be the first to know," Rynan slaps him on the shoulder and quickly disappears into the growing crowd.

"What was that about?" Sloan asks you.

"I don't know but freshman summer camp must have been pretty bad," you test the waters and Sloan gives you a very very nervous look.

"He didn't say anything but apparently if you upset me I can call and ask," you shrug with a grin.

Sloan stands with his mouth agape for a few moments then shakes his head as the sound of the crowd dies down and everyone settles in. He sets up the chairs and the both of you settle in for the show.

The opening is a bit corny but you forgive it by how amazing the costumes are. You nearly bark out in laughter after the first musical number, you never expected the march out of the main character's ex lover to be so hilarious but it works. Further into the production and it starts to get chilly. You had planned for this so you start to pull your shawl out of your purse but before you can get it all the way out, Sloan is draping his jacket over your shoulders.

"How are you enjoying the show?" he whispers to you then kisses you ear.

You skootch closer to him in your chair and kiss his cheek, "I'm loving it, thank you."

Sloan does the old fashion stretch-and-yawn-arm-of-the-shoulder bit and you would have held in the laugh but he had to give you that ridiculous dapper smile and wiggle his brows. You try so hard to stifle the giggles but Sloan moves your hand away from your mouth and kisses you as if he's been waiting years to do so.

It takes you back a bit, but you enjoy the passion of his kiss that is till you remember you're in a public setting. You try and tap out but he's not ready to come up for air. With no other choice you decide to reach into your purse and get his attention.

With one quick flip you switch the on button on the key fob and Sloan quickly jolts back too. You watch as he shifts in his seat, his brows furrowing as he's fighting not to show how much he's enjoying what your just started.

"I was wondering when you were going to use that," he groans, crossing his legs to hide his growing bulge.

You consider yourself lucky that no ones is nearby to hear or see what's going on. If anyone were to look back at the both of you they'd just see someone looking through their purse and the other uncomfortable and ready to go home.

You smirk at him and turn the vibrations up and then off, his face distorting in disappointment as if he was expecting more.

"Not yet. Not here," you smile.

After that Sloan get's impatient. He doesn't fully show it but you can tell that he's ready to move on from this part of the date. The show gets close to the end and the villain is finally revealed. Not ever having read the book himself Sloan seems genuinely shocked and offended that the ex's late wife is still alive and she's the one behind the curse.

You knew you would cry at the end, it was sad but happy ending with everything wrapped up and the characters' view of their hometown changed forever. Sloan tried not to show it but you could tell that he wasn't ready for that ending.

"Not what you were expecting?" you ask him.

He scratches the corners of his eyes as if he's fighting some annoying pollen allergy. "Regina did not deserve that much hate, especially when William was the one at the center of all the trouble. The curse was a bit much but she was doing it so no one else would get hurt by him!"

Sloan goes on and on about the ending until the actor who played William walks up to the both of you.

"Speak of the damn devil." Sloan laughs as he gets out of his chair.

The actor throws himself at Sloan giving him a big ol' hug.

"It's good to see you my friend, you hardly come around the theatre these days," he slaps Sloan on the arm and then looks over at you then Sloan then you again. He whispers something to Sloan and gives a full hardy laugh.

"George Oliver, double name, hate it, live with it, deal with it, go to bed with it. Pleasure to make your acquaintance," he stretches his hand out to you and you shake it.

You introduce yourself to Sloan's friend and find it hard that this guy played a terrible evil character who broke the hearts of so many women of a small town. He's giddy and over the top, more suited to play a character like Cody, the happy son of the mayor let's solve this curse kind of guy.

"I see you're back at it with playing the bad guy, I thought you were tired of being evil," Sloan asks George.

"Yes but I'm so good at it. What can I say, I love being hated and everyone loves to hate the characters I play. It's a win-win for me," he smiles.

You ask George a bit about his acting and Sloan inserts some stories from highschool here and there, adding to a fond memory of the two being a couple of dumb ass teens doing stupid stuff in theatre.

"I shan't keep you much longer, mostly because Rynan will rear his ugly head any minute now asking where William is," George sighs.

"You have my condolences..."Sloan lowers his head and puts his hand together as if to pray.

The two playfully banter and jest about Rynan until he actually appears and drags George away.

"He seems nice," you smile.

"He's a fun guy, and one that's gotten my ass out of trouble just as much as he's gotten it in it." he shrugs then stretches. "Hungry yet?"

To be honest you've been super hungry for most the day. The little snacks here and there helped but you needed an actual mean.

"Yes, and you?" you try not to see to desperate to leave and go eat, but the hunger zombie that is your brain wants food.

"Staaaaaaarved," he grumbles.

Sloan and you take the lawn chairs back to the front and he calls for a cab since his car is parked on the other side of the park and it's a bit of a walk.

After a short drive and Sloan pointing out a few of his favorite food trucks you reach Gianna's. You had no idea what to expect but it certainly wasn't this. Liz had played up the place to be super high end but that was an understatement. It's clearly reservation only and it seems that some of the staff know who Sloan is.

You start to feel a bit nervous being at a place this nice but you try your best to hide it. Sloan asked for a place that is secluded and very much out of the way which helps calm you down a tad. He orders a bottle of wine as the both of you settle into the booth, the waiter eyeing you with disparaging curiosity.

"The food here is amazing, I hope you like it," he smiles, reaching his hand across the table and taking yours.

"I'm sure I will," you smile, still hoping that he can't see how nerve wrecked you really are.

After a few minutes the waiter comes back with the wine and menus. Sloan goes ahead and orders a few appetizers and the waiter is all smiles but when you try and ask about something they completely ignore you and leave. Not wanting to make a scene you just take a deep breath and move on.

"I must say I thought you up and disappeared with how absent you've been," a tall and well dressed tiefling rounds the corner, crossing his arms as he gives Sloan a devilish grin.

"Hello Seth," he gives the man a flat smile.

"And I see you've brought a-" Seth pauses and looks at you and then at Sloan.

Here we go again, you think as you sip on your wine.

"Lover?" he asks with a shrug.

You nearly choke at his guess but it's a lot better than 'friend'.

Sloan turns to face him, his expression unreadable, "Yes and no, but that's neither here nor there. Is there something you wanted Seth? As you can see I'm-"

"No no, I just wanted to see how an old friend of a friend is doing. I know there's some hard feelings there but I hope that won't continue to keep you away from my family's establishment..." he pauses then turns to leave... "After all where would any of this be without that generous donation."

Sloan attempts to hide his disgust until he leaves then rakes his fingers over his face with a grunt.

"I'm not even going to ask what any of that was about," you hold up a hand while sipping on some more wine to get the sour taste that experience left you with. He takes a few deep breaths and you can see that he's having a hard time composing himself.

Not knowing what else to do, you reach in your bag and press the little button on the fob. Sloan jolts and nearly bangs a knee against the table.

"What are you doing," he whispers, leaning over the table.

You smile and take a sip of wine, "helping."

Sloan settles back down, less upset and more distressed with what's going on in his pants. You slide your foot up his leg, happy that the table cloth hides any indecent behavior. He tenses up and shifts a bit in the booth, then loosens up after you pet his leg a bit more.

"I hope you know what you've just started," Sloan leans onto his hands, his eyes focused on you in a way that makes you feel completely naked.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," you roll your eyes and act like you're completely enamored by the paintings on the wall.

"That's fine, I'll just have to explain it to you later...In the car, then on my couch, on the kitchen counter, possibly on the dryer, and then on my bed," he smirks.

You're used to his teasing but this is different. Is it because this is your first date or perhaps it's because you're now officially dating? You're not quite sure. Legs shift under the table and now he's lightly petting your leg with his.

"Hey, look at me..." he asks, his voice is soft and sweet.

You turn back around and there's an air of concern around him. He looks like he's about to say something but right as he does the waiter comes back around with a full tray of appetizers.

His face looks a bit nerve wrecked for some reason, his smile twisted as he looks back at you.

"Are we ready to order or do you need some more time?" he asks.

You try again to ask about the dish from before and they quickly answer without hesitation. You decide to order it and Sloan orders something you've never heard of nor want to attempt to pronounce at the moment.

"Very good, we'll get those out to you a little after you've finished your appetizers. Any desserts?" he looks over at you but Sloan tells him to make it the chef's choice.

The waiter scurries off then and to your surprise Sloan's look of disgust is back on. He eyes the entire establishment as if he's looking for something or someone, the food on the table getting cold.

"Uh Sloan is something-" you stop midsentence feeling as if getting his attention this way wouldn't work.

You reach into your purse and turn off the cock ring and instead of the jolt from earlier, Sloan turns around and with this expression that you've never seen on him before.

"I uh..." he starts before barring his face in his hands.

There's several moments of silence and it feels so heavy that you can hardly breathe.

Did I do something wrong? Should I...Should I go? He's not saying anything, he won't even look at me...What did I do wrong?

Your chest feels tight and your stomach feels queasy and before you can say anything your standing and walking briskly towards the bathroom leaving Sloan at the booth.

The bathroom is cool and quiet, leaving you blissfully alone to deal with your nausea. After a few minutes and a quick rinse you feel somewhat better. You decide that anxiety and alcohol should never be in the same room again after that.

That being said though, you're not too thrilled about going back to the booth. You have a million questions for Sloan but you're not sure if or when you should ask.

Should I really try dating someone who I can't even talk to? I feel...I feel like this is Marcus all over again...

And there it is, your biggest fear playing out again. You made yourself small in that moment. You try looking in the mirror, hoping to see what Sloan sees in you. Your makeup is smeared, your hair is a mess, and your eyes are a bit puffy from crying in the stall.

There's nothing loveable about this...

One of the wait staff walks in and makes a sound of relief.

"Ma'am, Mr. Sloan asked me to come see if you were alright," her voice is soft and sincere.

You don't know what to say, right now you just want to run out the building with inhuman speed but that won't solve anything.

She tip toes a bit closer and you hear a gasp. You finally look up and you feel relieved when you recognize the person in front of you.

"Carrie?" you sniffle. She was an old coworker from when you both were waitresses at a diner near your home.

"You're a mess," she shakes her head.

You laugh at her bluntness, something that you'd admired about her.

"I feel like a mess," you say.

"Care to talk about it or do you want me to help you with all this..."she circles her finger in the air, pointing at your messed up hair and makeup.

"Maybe a bit of both," you smile weakly.

Carrie leaves and comes back with her purse and helps fix your hair and makeup while listening to your concerns. You hated feeling like you couldn't talk to Sloan and you hate how you feel like there's this weird wall between you. He's got so much history and you don't know when or if you should ask him about it since you just started dating. It feels so overwhelming.

"So he's basically info dumping his life on you without realizing what he's doing and it's stressing you out?" she points.

You hadn't even thought about it that way but it's more or less true. Both you and Rynan did say that Sloan has those rose tented glasses.

"This is a disaster," you grumble, wiping off the eye makeup.

"It is, but are you going to let it keep being a disaster is the question?" she asks.

You grumble again and look back into the mirror. Your face is cleaned up and your hair is fixed, your eyes are still a bit puffy but they'll smooth out soon. You take a deep breath and force back anymore tears.

Tonight has had its good points, its weird points, and now its bad points. And now you're looking down on yourself in a bathroom while an old friend is trying to console you.

Carrie gives you a few more words of wisdom and her phone number to text if things go south again. She leaves you to go back to work but suddenly your slapped with confusion.

How did Sloan know I was in here?

You shake your head and take a few more deep breaths trying to muster up the courage to go back out there. It takes a few minutes to boost yourself up, that and the girls who walk in...After all nothing could be more embarrassing in this moment than giving yourself a pep talk in the women's restroom.

Walking back to the booth you do your best to look straight forward and not to think about anything else but just getting there.

One thing at a time...

Sloan is sitting there and for a split second he looks your way then back at the table, his eyes darting around. You stand next to him and when he looks up you loose all restraint and grab his face and kiss him long and hard.

"I uh...wow," Sloan sighs, his eyes blinking in disbelief.

"Stop going dark on me and start talking to me, it's messing with my head," you tell him, inspired by Carrie's bluntness.

He starts to pout so you pinch him, "Listen I know you wanted this date to be perfect but nothing in life is. Que será, será. I've had an amazing time so far and yeah some of it's been weird and this just threw a wrench into it but are we going to let it ruin the evening?"

"You're just too good to be true," he smiles as he nudges his face in your hands.

"Are we going to quote from oldies now?" you laugh, taking your hands back so you can sit back down.

Sloan straightens up with a grin, "You started it."

After that little snafu, the date goes back to normal. Sloan orders more food, even more hungry after being emotionally distressed. He opens up a bit more to which you're delighted. He explains that he was hesitant to talk more about himself since in the past the people he dated didn't really seem to care.

"I know you're nothing like them and it pains me that I'm being this guarded around you. I don't want you to find out that the real me is just this pile of garbage that only looks nice because it's been dipped in gold," he grumbles.

You pet his leg under the table and he lets out a long sigh.

"But I guess that's not fair to you. I might think of myself as garbage but when you said that I'm nice and funny and all that I felt that if I opened up anymore you'd find stuff about me that you wouldn't like," he admits.

"Oh but I already do have stuff about you that I don't like you dirty blanket thief," you smile.

Sloan softens up at that, "I've asked you to let go of some of your baggage, I guess it's only fair that I dump some of mine."

You reach across the table and take his hands, "With time and trust."

He nods his head and picks you hands up and kisses the tips of your fingers.

The waiter from before comes back with Carrie in tow. They set down a lot more food than you think you can handle but Sloan looks like he can't wait for them to just leave so he can start shoveling it into his mouth.

The food is amazing and despite your emotional hunger you're only able to pick at some of the appetizers or else you won't be able to eat the entrée you ordered. Sloan however has nearly cleared the table.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to how much food you can put away," you laugh.

He pets your leg under the table, "Does my hunger impress you that much?"

You roll your eyes and give him a light punt back.

Dinner comes and goes and you're happily stuffed by the time you're out. Sloan hails a taxi that takes the both of you back to his car. He still wants to take you to the movies and bakery but you both agree after looking at the shows that there's nothing good out.

"I should have checked before putting that on our schedule," he laughs.

You shrug, "Is there anything else you want to do?"

"Aside from the obvious?" he gives you a devilish grin.

"And what's that?" you ask.

He leans down and licks your ear, "Ravish you till you can think of nothing else but me. Have you scream out my name until you've forgotten your own. Bring you endless pleasure till you beg for mercy. I want you to scar my back with your nails, I want your voice to be the only thing I can hear, I want to taste you because I crave you."

You feel your heart beating a mile a minute and your cheeks growing oh so hot.

Proud of himself, Sloan kisses your cheek and leans back into his seat.

"So aside from the obvious, I'll have to think about it," he brings out his phone and starts to scroll looking for something to fill in the gap.

You fidget in the car seat, very hot and bothered and all too frisky. Reaching into your purse you turn on the key fob again and hear Sloan jump.

In no time at all Sloan is leaning over again and kissing you with no regard to the fact that you're still in a public parking lot. His hands start to trail up your dress but you cross your legs.

"Not here," you try and catch your breath but he keeps at.

"Now, I want you now..." he nips your neck and you make a sound that you didn't think you could.

"Dammit! Ok..." He quickly calms himself and starts out of the lot. You have no idea where he's planning on taking you but you're excited. He starts driving around then stops right outside a small strip center.

"What is-"

"Come on, I'll explain later," he's already out of the car and opening your door.

He leads you to a door that's spot has no signs. He unlocks it and turns the alarm off and the lights on. It's a small studio with bare walls and some furniture.

As you look around a bit more you hear Sloan lock the door behind him.

"Will this work?" he asks, pulling his jacket off and tossing it to the side.

"As long as you tell me about this place afterwards," you smile.

He pulls you up against him and kisses you with so much hunger you can hardly stand it. Your hands start to work at unbuttoning his shirt and you feel his reach down and start to tug at your panties.

After tugging and pulling at each other's clothes, Sloan pushes you down on one of the couches and puts his face between your legs. He growls against your pussy and tugs the lingerie aside with his teeth. You grab the back of his head and guide him further in, needing this sweet release.

He's ruthless as he brings you over the edge, he growls and grunts against you and the vibrations are absolutely delicious. When you finally come he doesn't stop, he keeps going and you nearly lose it being overstimulated. When he's finally done he stands and unzips his pants, releasing his hardened cock.

You sit up with what little strength you have and he brings his cock close to your face, but you have other ideas.

"Pick me up," you smile.

Sloan pulls you up and into his arms and kisses your neck, "Are you sure?" His voice is husky and full of need and yet he's still holding back.

"I want you to fuck me, right here, right now. Prove to me how bad you are," you hiss as you pull on his braid enough to elicit that growling you've grown to love.

There's no more words after that, only Sloan lowering you carefully on his cock before he presses you against the wall. At first he takes his time with you, slowly feeling your tightness around him. He hits all the right places and you have to do everything in your power not to scream out, but it becomes harder and harder when he speeds up.

His hot breath tickles your ear, sending shivers down your body as he keeps thrusting into you. You're a mess and you absolutely love it. He bites down against your neck making you cry out in surprise and tighten even more around his cock.

Sloan pulls you off of him as quickly as possible and cums long and hard all over you. He growls as he watches his cum drip along your lingerie, proud of his work. Your legs feel like pudding when he sets you back down on the couch.

"That was...amazing," you're still catching your breath as you lay against the couch.

Sloan hovers over you and his eyes burn into you, hot and heavy. There's something wild in the way that he's looking at, as if he's lost all sense of reality but you can't help but to enjoy being caught in it. He sits down beside you then starts to crawl over you, pinning you to the couch, "If you think we're done here, you my angel are sorely mistaken. You've given me full on permission to misbehave and trust and believe by tomorrow morning you'll know why I'm a bad boy."

You smile and pull yourself up to kiss him, "I better not be able to walk in the morning."

"I promise, but for now coffee and dessert. We're going to need energy for the things we'll be doing tonight," he kisses your forehead and gets up.

For the next few minutes the both of you clean up and get dressed, Sloan practically bouncing out of his skin to leave and get to the next place.

After locking up and leaving Sloan takes you to the late night bakery well known for its strong brew and donuts. You're both a little overzealous, ordering whatever sounds or looks good and leaving with practically a pot of coffee to go.

When you arrive back at Sloan's apartment with bags of goodies and foods, he makes the 'one trip only' move and grabs everything but your purse. You have to help him open the door and he nearly drops everything coming in but he makes a graceful rebound as he trips into the kitchen with all the goods.

Once everything is put up, you and Sloan sit down on his rather large and ridiculously comfortable couch with your coffees and some pastries. He takes a sip of his and sets it down on the table, "Now then my angel, are you ready?"

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pixieungerstories · 3 years

Text

Quarantine - 4

Nick had changed his tactics. Now, instead of growling, howling and creepy laughter, he whispered. It was like living in an ASMR app. Somehow the lights were always dim and Nick was occasionally purring sweet nothings in my ear.

Someone came to inspect the wine. They had questions I could not answer, I parroted back the approved line that Nick was the one selling and they would need to call or email him.

A week later, someone came and took away a box that Nick had packed and there was a hell of a lot of money in my bank account.

Which was just as well, I had my hours further reduced.

I lay in bed that night staring at the ceiling and listening to Nick whispering about how he was planning how to spend the wine money on the house.

I was dancing around asking if I could use some of it to cover my living expenses. He wasn’t getting the hint. I realized that was very nearly fair. He had been very clear he was here for the house not for me. It had been his wine. Of course, I was the one who had the income from the wine sale to claim on my taxes.

“Nick? Would you pay me to paint the place?”

That made him stop.

“And why would I do that?” he breathed against my cheek, making me shiver.

“I have no idea how long I will be without work and I’m afraid of running out of money,” I admitted. “And of having strangers coming in, possibly bringing the infection with them. We don’t know if people can get Covid twice.”

He didn’t reply. In fact, there was no sign of him for the better part of a week. That was a whole other level of creepy. The house just felt empty. There was no one to talk to and I hadn’t realized how often Nick would brush past me until that stopped.

I was soaking in the tub on Saturday night, wishing for a glass or wine or a beer. There was still wine in the basement, but it was all the stuff Nick was saving for a special collector. It had come as a surprise when the wine appraiser said that I had drunk a twelve hundred dollar bottle of wine out of my coffee cup the last time I had cracked one open.

No, the wine was wasted on me and deliveries from the liquor stores were booked for weeks if I wanted to schedule a delivery.

The lights flickered.

“Nick?” I asked. There wasn’t any reply. I pulled the plug with my toes and climbed out of the tub. I had been avoiding the second floor of the house as much as I could but it was where the tub and shower were. The lights flickered again. There was a huge crash of thunder signaling the start of a summer storm, then the lights went out and the rain started.

“Shit.” OK, I told myself, no need to panic. It’s just a storm. I am just trapped in pitch blackness, in a storm, while naked and I have to not trip over my clothes and make it safely down steep and narrow steps by memory. The thunder rolled again, a huge almost double crash that had to be really close. My feet were wet and the tile was slippery.

“Nick?” I tried. “I could use a little help here.” I bit back a scream as the bathroom door creaked open. “Nick?” I whispered.

I shrieked when something brushed my hand then tried to relax as I realized it was a towel. I wrapped up and tried to feel ahead of me with my feet as I inched my way towards the door.

That familiar low voice growled in my ear, “it would be safer if I carried you down the stairs.”

I swallowed, then nodded. I was scooped up and cradled. There was no real sensation of movement until I was placed on my feet and he guided my hand to what turned out to be my bed. Then he was gone. The room was briefly lit by lightning and I swore for a moment I could see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen. The thunder followed in an instant rattling the whole house. I was glad I had gotten the roof fixed.

Looking toward the front window, it looked like the street lights were out too.

I hate storms. Objectively, I know that I don’t have to be afraid, but storms completely bypass the objective part of my brain and reach right into my fear response. I sat on the bed, shaking with fear in a way that I hadn’t felt since Nick tried to lock me in the bedroom.

“Lift up your hand,” he whispered, near enough to make me jump. “I can’t turn on your hedgehog night light but I can hand it to you.”

I tentatively held up my hand and he didn’t so much pass me the light as drop it into my hand. I fumbled for a moment before finding the right place to press to make it light up. It didn’t really help, but I slid back across the bed until I bumped into the wall and sat clutching it anyway.

“You are very afraid,” he observed calmly from somewhere to my left.

“I’m trapped in a haunted house, during a storm and I am only wearing a towel. This is where the sound track plays the creepy music and the audience tenses up in anticipation of my imminent death.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, so that when he did speak, I made an undignified squeak and jumped.

“You can’t see me bring you clothes.”

“What?”

“I can’t bring you your clothes unless you turn off the light.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t see me.”

I thought about arguing about whether it was that I physically couldn’t see him or if he just didn’t want to be seen. Still, I had trusted him to carry me down the stairs.

I turned off the light and fought not to hyperventilate. My robe was placed in my lap a moment later. That raised more questions. If I turned on the light to get dressed did that make it easier or harder for him to see me. Was the dinky little nightlight really going to keep him away in the storm?

I turned it back on and looked wildly around the room as it cast strange shadows.

“I used to like that,” he murmured. “The taste of fear. Its smell. All the little noise that humans make when they are afraid and trying to be quiet.” He paused and there was a moment of uncomfortable lack of talking filled with the sound of howling wind and driving rain. “I have never lived with one of you this long before. Your fear is different. You become afraid at times when I am unable to see the threat.”

“Like now,” I mumbled, as I scrambled into my clothes.

“No. This fear I can understand. Primal fear is very familiar to me. It’s my bread and butter, so to speak. You are afraid of when I am here and when I don’t answer and you are afraid of your job.”

I stopped for a moment and tried to understand that last one. “I am afraid for my job,” I countered. “If I can’t work, I don’t earn money. Without money, I can’t pay my bills. If I fall behind in my payments, the bank repossesses the house and this is an even more shitty time to be homeless than usual.”

“Hmmm.”

I shivered and tried to pull the blankets around me.

“You can lay down,” he suggested. “You would be warmer and more comfortable.”

“It would be easier if I could see you,” I muttered.

Nick snorted, “No it wouldn’t.” The wall where his voice was coming from got darker, then a swirling shadow detached itself from the wall and drifted towards me. It was vaguely humanoid but with soft wavering edges like ink dropped into water. His eyes still shone in the darkness.

“That’s a little scary,” I whispered “but I could get used to it.” Then he grinned showing entirely too many teeth and I started to doubt my words. The way he stalked towards me wasn’t entirely comforting either. The bed dipped under his weight and I found myself pulled into his lap. It was the first physical contact I had since he left. It was weird to realize that he was the only other person to have touched me in months. I tried to relax against him, he was warm and dry.

I couldn’t hear a heartbeat. It was weird. “You could rub my back, if you want. It was nice the last time you did that.”

Nick gave a low chuckle, then he began stroking me. We sat like that in the storm until the wind died down and I drifted off to the sound of the rain.

#quarantine #oh my god they were quarantined #shadow monster

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pixieungerstories · 3 years

Text

Quarantine -3

It would have been nice to have something other than the word of a shadow to go on. I stared at the ceiling. I wished I had a cat or a dog or - hell - a pet hamster. Some other living thing in the house. I had no idea what Nick was but I wasn’t entirely sure he counted as a living thing.

“Humans who don’t sleep start to hallucinate,” I muttered to myself. Maybe if I actually got some shut eye, I would wake up and this would all be a dream. “Fuck it.” I got undressed and crawled under the covers. I settled under the covers, then realized I was facing the closet, so I rolled over. Having the door in my blind spot wasn’t necessarily better.

“Nick?” I wasn’t really expecting an answer. “Can you move the bed to another room?”

“I can. I don’t want to. I like having you where I can see you.”

I nodded. “I’ll go sit in the kitchen until dawn.”

“Go! To! Sleep!”

I jumped then started to shake. “Yelling at me isn’t going to help me sleep,” I muttered.

The bedroom door slammed shut. Rattling the door knob and pulling as hard as I could didn’t make it budge. “Please don’t do this,” I whimpered, then I screamed as something brushed my face.

The door opened suddenly enough that I unbalanced and fell on my ass, but a moment later I was running down the stairs and out the front door. I was at the gate before I knew what I was doing.

The cops were still right there.

“You need to go back inside ma’am!” the closest one called. After that they were all looking at me.

I paced for a moment, uncomfortably aware how odd I was behaving. I needed to get out of here. I needed a smoke. I needed to stop acting weird before they decided I had killed my neighbours.

Oh god. I was trapped in a house with a creature that probably killed the looters.

I didn’t want to face the idea that Nick was a killer.

“Ma’am! Go inside!”

“I saw what happened on the news,” I explained. “It’s giving me nightmares and I’ve been stuck in that house for more than a month. I wasn’t expecting to be quarantined in a construction site.”

“Be that as it may, you need to go back inside,” the patrolman called.

“I’m more than six feet away from you. Can’t I just stay out here near some other people and the street lights? Please?”

“You aren’t exactly dressed for the weather,” he pointed out.

I crossed my arms over my chest as I realized I was standing on my lawn in my night dress. I should go in and at least get my robe. It was in the room with Nick’s closet.

I thought about just confessing to something so that I could go with them. Prison wouldn’t have Nick. Maybe I just needed a hospital. No. That was a death sentence these days.

He was driving me off. He had flat out told me that he was good at that.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“No!” I snapped. “I’m scared.”

He gave me a pitying look but still insisted, “You need to go inside now. You will be safe in your house.”

I snorted, and swatted at the bugs that had found me.

“Go inside,” he said gently. “The last thing you need is to catch something from the mosquitos.”

I nodded slowly and headed back in to sit in the kitchen. Maybe he would let me make a pot of coffee. When I got inside the lights in the kitchen was on and the bed was set up on the main floor.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome. This is temporary. You will sleep upstairs when the walls are repaired.

The next morning I got a phone call ordering me out into the garden as a forklift delivered a load of drywall. It was left in the middle of the floor next to my bed. I looked at it. Nick’s voice was too close to my ear, “Someone will come hang in tomorrow.”

“How did you pay for this?”

“You have an excellent credit rating and you aren’t spending much of your money.”

“Great. Did they say how long it would take?”

There was no answer to that.

“I guess drywallers wear masks all the time anyway,” I mused. “At least there will be some other people around.”

“Yes.”

I didn’t have walls the next day. In fact things were worse as the last of the lath and plaster was taken down. They found hundreds of razor blades in the wall in the bathroom. The construction guys assured me that it was normal to find all kinds of weird things in the walls of old houses, but they still looked uncomfortable that it was razor blades and that some of them were more bloody than you would expect from a mere shaving accident. I spent the night picking them up with tweezers and dropping them into a jar for safe disposal. Nick didn’t say a word and the lights stayed on that night.

One half the team turned up the next day. No one commented on why that was.

I ordered a hammock and a grill for the backyard. I got the hammock but someone had changed the grill to a chiminea when I wasn’t looking. It was nice, but I couldn’t cook on it. My order had also been edited to include a bunch of bug repellant candles and some sunscreen. I tried to figure out if that was something a shadow creature would actually do or was this another sign that I was losing my mind.

Either way, I worked on the concrete table out back at the very limit of the wifi during the day and concentrated on fixing up the yard after official work hours.

One of the drywallers sold me a patio umbrella.

I also got the lecture that just because the walls were up didn’t mean that it was safe to use the shower.

“You still have to get a membrane installed and your tiles up and sealed,” the guy explained.

I nodded, “You don’t happen to know a tile guy that is still working?”

He frowned, “I’ll ask around. Do you have tiles yet?”

“No,” I admitted.

“That might be the hard part. You can still find a few guys willing to come out, but all the factories are shut down.”

“Shit.”

He gave me a look of sympathy. “Yeah. There are stories of people doing penny walls or using their grandma’s china to tile just so they have a working bathroom.”

“I don’t have either of those things,” I said sadly.

He nodded, “I’ll ask around. It isn’t a big project and people might have some leftovers.”

Given how protective Nick was of the house I should have expected his warning. I was still unimpressed to see “no ugly tile” written on the drywall in the morning. Still, he could have used the last of my lipstick and instead had found a pencil somewhere. I tried to ignore it as I brushed my teeth. I didn’t even have a mirror over the sink. Grumbling around the toothbrush I realized, “Fuck. I’m the only person who could buy a haunted house where the ghost had been watching too much HGTV.”

That earned me a creepy house shaking laugh and proof that he hadn’t just left.

“It’s your fault,” he purred in my ear. “You are the one who fell asleep all those nights with decorating shows playing on repeat on your computer.”

I sighed. “Yeah, it was,” I agreed sadly. “If I hadn’t would you be haunting me right now?”

“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen the value in what you are doing and I wouldn’t have spent a week keeping you alive when you got sick. Perhaps you would have been haunting me.”

I frowned, “I wasn’t sick for a week! It was only a couple of days!”

“You should check your calendar. It was a couple of days of you being sick and a week of me forcing you to breathe.”

“There is no way I lost a week without noticing!”

He didn’t say anything. When I checked my calendar there were nearly two weeks missing. I told myself it didn’t mean anything. Nick used my computer, he could have just deleted the information. I could just call work or Penny or someone and ask how long I was away for.

I kind of didn’t want to. What if he was telling the truth?

I took my coffee and toast and ate breakfast outside, once again wishing for a cigarette. Nick had never left the house, as far as I knew, and I didn’t want to talk to him just then. This was ridiculous! Shadow monsters didn’t … do that! They didn’t … exist. I was just … this wasn’t happening!

I was out of coffee and the coldness of the concrete bench was soaking through my night shirt and into my ass. I had left the folded towel I used as a cushion inside overnight so it wouldn’t get damp. Now I was cold and damp instead. Fuck.

When I made it back to the kitchen, my laptop was open and had apparently been searching for bathroom tiles. ‘Fine. Whatever. Pick something nice that I can afford.”

I don’t know what I was expecting him to do, but contacting a local stained glass artist wasn’t it. I really wasn’t expecting her to check if it was OK if my boyfriend picked out the design since it was my credit card that was paying for it.

I was afraid to ask, but I had to know, “What did he pick?”

Nancy cleared her throat, “Well, originally he wanted a reproduction of a stained glass window from Maison Schott in France. But when we talked about how complicated it would be for a tiler to install that, he settled on a simpler rose on trellis pattern.”

I set down the phone to close my eyes and scrub my face. “Do you like what he picked out?” She seemed a little taken aback by the question. “Yes? It’s a little modern for your age of house, but it’s a nice piece and will be easy to install. It mostly uses different textured white glass, so it would be in keeping with a white bathroom. I can have it ready next week. I’m not exactly over run with work right now.” She paused before she added, “I’ll send you some sketches and if there is anything you need changed, just let me know. I could really use the income, to be honest.”

“Yeah. I understand that. I guess I’m just doing my part to keep the economy running.”

“I really appreciate that. The whole ‘buy local’ movement ended when we weren’t allowed to leave our houses,” Nancy pointed out.

“Ok. Send me the sketches and the quote and I’ll get back to you in the next couple of days.”

I lay in bed that night and looked at the newly drywalled dining room ceiling. “What are you doing, Nick?”

“Making a home for you,” he whispered.

“Can I even afford this? You don’t have a secret money vault hidden in the walls with the razor blades, do you?”

There was a long moment of silence, then he whispered, “You could sell the wine instead of drinking it.”

I froze. “Just because it’s old doesn’t mean that it’s valuable,” I pointed out.

Something caressed my calf as he purred his reply, “But it is.”

I closed my eyes and let my body melt into the mattress. My breath caught in my throat as the touch moved up my leg. As soon as I made the noise, the contact vanished. I groaned.

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking the rules,” he grumbled from across the room.

I needed to know, “Why were there razor blades in the walls?”

“There was a slot in the back of the medicine cabinet for used razor blades to be dropped between the wall boards so that they were safe and wouldn’t hurt anyone in the trash. That was perfectly normal at one point in history,” he explained.

I considered this, “Why were there bloody razor blades in the walls?”

He didn’t answer that one. “Why haven’t you used your little toy since I cleaned it for you?”

Now it was my turn to be silent.

“You liked that toy,” he prompted. “I liked watching you enjoy yourself. Good for everyone.”

“That’s really creepy. Can’t you just watch porn like a normal person?”

“Porn isn’t as satisfying,” he replied. Then he added, “For either of us. And I am not a normal person.”

“I noticed.”

“Would we have fucked by now if I was?” he just sounded curious. The vocal leer from a moment ago was gone.

“I would have had you arrested by now if you were.”

The low chuckle rumbled through the house at that. I closed my eyes and he stroked my face. “Let me watch,” he purred. “I can feel how badly you want.”

That made my eyes snap open. “What?”

“I can taste your fear, but also your pleasure. I enjoyed watching you cum in a way that humans can not understand. And I am very aware of your frustration.”

“What happens to my soul if a shadow … creature watches me play with myself?”

“It gets to live in a house with a happier guardian?” he suggested.

“A guardian? Is that what you are?”

“Guardian sounds better than monster or eldritch god but that’s just semantics.”

“I’m pretty sure there is a difference,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps the difference is what I’m doing at the time. And right now, I am guarding this house, taking care of you and hoping you will take care of yourself.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I joked. “I’m too damn tired!” I thought for a moment, “I need more rules, Nick.”

“Like what?” he asked in a breathy hissing rasp that sounded pretty much like how I imagined a death rattle would sound.

“Well, there’s that,” I pointed out. “Now I’m scared and I can’t see you so this is going to be another night of sitting up until I fall down.”

“You need to rest,” he murmured in a more normal voice for him. It wasn’t human sounding, but it wasn’t deliberately scary.

I had already set up and was fumbling for a light switch. I shrieked when he caught my hand. “Ugh! Look, either I get to sleep or you get to scare me, but you have to pick one. And I can’t see when you are going to touch me, so it’s scary every time. That’s why I asked you not to. But if you can’t do that, can you at least tell me when it’s coming?”

“Would that really make it better if you knew I was going to lick my way up your back?”

“It would if I knew you would listen when I tell you not to. This is about trust, Nick. I don’t trust you. I am already very aware of how vulnerable I am here. You could easily lock me in the basement and wait for me to starve to death. You could smother me with my pillow. Hell, you could slice open an artery and hide the razor blade in the walls.” I stopped abruptly, wondering if I was just giving him ideas. “I can’t stop you and I can’t leave and I can’t trust you not to lock me in the bedroom because you think that will help me sleep.” He let go of my hand. I turned on the light and looked around the empty house. “My head hurts and I don’t want to be afraid any more.”

“I have never done anything to hurt you, but I can see how I have done things that are frightening.” It sounded like a whisper on the very edge of hearing. “Turn out the light, lay down and I will rub your back until you can sleep. I will do my very best not to be scary.”

I turned on my laptop as a source of light and sound before I turned off the light switch. “I can’t believe I am saying this, but if you want this to be less scary for me, find me a nightlight. I haven’t needed one since I was ten, but, congratulations, I do now.”

I felt the bed dip. It didn’t always do that. “I’m going to rub your back now,” he whispered. “You can tell me to stop.”

“Ok,” I acknowledge.

It wasn’t a massage; it was more like a person petting a cat. He started at the top of my head and stroked back to my waist, then stopped and started again. It was vaguely soothing and I was really exhausted by then. At some point in the night I woke to see a huge black shape hunched over my keyboard.

In the morning I had emails confirming my order of six cartoon animal night lights from IKEA and one from an auction house saying they would be happy to broker the sale of my wine and that they would send an expert to confirm its authenticity.

I wondered how you forge wine.

#quarantine #oh my god they were quarantined #shadow monster

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pixieungerstories · 3 years

Text

Quarantine - 2

There was no sign the house had any other occupants for days. I hadn’t been able to drag the mattress out of the room where he had put it. It was heavy and I couldn’t compress it enough to get it through the door.

I went back to working from home. The conference calls helped me feel sane. After a while it was easy to pretend the whole thing was some fever dream. I was pretending, though. I still hadn’t tried to open the closet. Grocery delivery was set on a rotation so that once a week they arrived at the gate. My neighbours had theirs brought right up to the house. Mine were always left at the gate of the picket fence that surrounded the front yard.

I used the hedge trimmers to shape the lilac bushes that the neighbours on each side had planted to obscure their view of my house. I weeded and mowed the lawn wishing for grass seed before just giving up and calling it a meadow. Some of the flowers were even pretty. I chuckled with my friends about how much drywall I was going to need when this was over. We laughed about how it was lucky I was alone instead of having a roommate watching me through the holes in the walls.

Well, they laughed. I sort of more chuckled nervously.

I kept an eye on my laptop battery and there weren’t any unexplained power outages. Everything seemed normal.

Until I was cleaning out the basement and found the wine room. I don’t know wine, but there was a lot of it and the newest bottle that I could find was pre world war two.

I wasn’t expecting it to still be good. It was. It felt ridiculous drinking a hundred year old bottle of red wine with a frozen dinner. I did it anyway.

“Are you still here?” I demanded as I was getting ready for bed.

There was no answer.

I found the box that had my vibrator in it and fell asleep in a sweaty puddle.

I woke up a little hung over and found my vibe squeaky clean on the bathroom sink when I went to brush my teeth. My stomach dropped.

“Were you watching me?” I hissed. I don’t know what sort of reply I was expecting, but I didn’t get one.

Once again, I tried to move the mattress to another room. Once again, I failed. I spent the night wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor in the other bedroom, with my laptop plugged in and netflix running to keep me company.

I screamed and stood up when he said from the doorway, “I get lonely too.”

“Jesus Christ!”

He chuckled, “Not even close.” There was a moment of silence as I strained my eyes to see something, anything, in the dark. “I can’t leave either,” he whispered. I stood there shaking in the light from my laptop screen. “Sleep in the bed. I will not bother you.”

I didn’t move. He had just sounded sad when he said it.

“Why can’t I ever see you?” I asked.

“I live in the shadows, you can only see me in darkness.”

I blinked at that. “But you are always here.”

“Yes.”

“And I can’t see in the dark,” I pointed out.

“I know.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I changed the subject. “What do you want from me?”

“When you first arrived, you slept in the garden. If you had started by sleeping in the house, I would have run you off. But you were fixing things, so I let you stay. I got used to you being around. Then you got sick and it would have been so easy to just let you die. I would have gone back to being on my own. I no longer want to be on my own but I hadn’t considered the weight of you being unable to leave. I do not like the idea of you being scared of me and trapped here.”

“But I am,” I mumbled.

“Yes. So take care of yourself. Sleep in the bed. Care for the house. I will stay out of your way.”

I licked my lips. I didn’t want to ask but I had to know. “What were you doing with my vibrator?”

There was no answer. I waited for what felt like an eternity before I continued. “Look, it isn’t a good idea to share sex toys, so depending on where it’s been, I might need to throw it out. I can’t exactly get a new one just now. Please just tell me.”

It was the barest whisper, “I wanted to taste you.”

I froze feeling like a deer in the headlights, completely unsure how to respond to that.

“I have not touched you since you asked me not to,” he argued.

Except for when I almost fell, I thought. You caught me then. And my laptop. I wouldn’t have been able to get a new one of those either. I wondered if soap and water would do it or if I was going to end up with some shadow monster disease. How do you even ask that?

“Ok,” I mumbled. I stood there in the dark and silence. The house was silent. I realized I hadn’t heard rattles or banging or hissing since I learned he was here. “Nyctophobia,” I blurted out.

“I don’t understand,” he replied.

I shifted awkwardly. “Can I call you Nick?”

The silence continued. Then, “Why?”

“Nameless things are more scary. It isn’t as bad having a roommate named Nick.”

He never did answer. Eventually, I sat back down on the floor and wrapped the blanket more tightly around myself. I wasn’t brave enough to walk through a pitch dark house, past a staircase, to get to the room where there was a monster in the closet.

----

There was coffee waiting for me when I got up, and the smell of cinnamon buns baking in the oven. The oven timer said there was 10 minutes left. I peeked inside to find the tiniest pan of monkey bread baking. I recognized the recipe and pulled out the cookbook it came from. Sure enough, in Nick’s careful handwriting was notations about scaling the recipe down to one sixth of how it had been published.

He had used pencil.

“Is this a peace offering?” I asked.

I didn’t get a response, but he did the dishes while I had my bath that morning.

When my groceries were delivered, popcorn had been added to my order.

I didn’t see him. Well, I mean, I never see him, but the only signs of him were things being done and left obviously done while I was bathing or getting dressed. Aside from how nice it was to not do the dishes I appreciated the signs that he was not watching me.

It came as a surprise when I went to put the popcorn in the microwave and the power went out.

“Nick? What are you doing?”

“This isn’t me,” he hissed.

I was lifted and carried squirming through the dark before being pushed into a space and having the door locked behind me. I panicked as I thought I might be in his closet before I realized I was in the wine cellar. Flashes of Edgar Allen Poe stories ran through my mind.

I have no idea how long I was in there, in the dark with my heart pounding as I tried to get the door to open. Eventually, it did.

“All better now,” he assured me, breathing down the back of my neck.

There were a lot of cop cars outside on the street.

“What happened?” I asked. There wasn’t any answer.

A uniformed officer rang my bell, then politely stepped back from my door the requisite six feet.

“Did you hear or see anything unusual last night, Ma’am?” he asked after identifying himself.

Yeah, all the time, I thought. There was still no way to say that and sound sane. I went with a modified version of the truth. “The power went out around 10pm and I ended up stuck in the basement since I couldn’t see the stairs.”

He frowned at me. “Have you noticed anything missing? Any signs of a break in?”

“No? Should I have?”

He appeared to consider this, then stepped further back to look at the state of my house. “There were break-ins all down this street last night. This place might not have been a target.”

“Is everyone OK?” I asked.

“It’s an ongoing investigation,” replied walking towards me again. “I can not disclose anything further, ma’am.”

I swallowed, “That sounds like a no.”

“Do you mind if I come in and have a look around?”

I considered this, “Do you generally advise that women living alone let strange men into their houses? If you are coming to search, I want my lawyer here as a witness.”

He was already peering in around me. The house isn’t that big and the walls were all gone. He could see the whole main floor whether he came in or not.

“Doing some renovations I see.”

No shit Sherlock. “My building permit is posted in my window. I haven’t been able to get trades people out in months but-”

“I'm sure everything is in order with that. Good day.” Then he left. Standing on the porch I could hear him telling the other officers what a shit hole my house was. He thought it should be condemned.

I mean, he was right, still you never like to hear that. And it didn’t need to be condemned. I had the structural engineer’s report to prove it.

I went to work while keeping an eye on the news sites.

It wasn’t break ins. It was looters. The house next to me and the four next to it, all the way to the corner, had been hit. The owners had been found tied up at best and dead at worst with a variety of options in between.

It has escalated all the way down the street.

Then stopped before my house.

“Nick? What did you do?”

He wasn’t talking to me yet.

----

I sat on my bed and waited for the sun to go down. My laptop was in the kitchen. My phone was next to me but set to do not disturb. I waited, straining my ears for any noise.

“Are you there?”

Nothing was said but I was sure I could feel him watching me.

“Please tell me what happened.”

“No one comes into my house,” he snarled.

I swallowed and fought down my fear. “I did.”

“You are different. You are helping.”

I considered that. He had walls before I got here, now he didn’t.

“Am I safe from you?”

“Yes.” It would have been more comforting if he hadn’t growled it.

That was the point where I started to cry. I had made it through everything life had thrown at me without turning into a weepy woman, but that did it. I’m going to blame it on a night of panicking in the wine cellar combined with news reports detailing what had happened to my neighbours.

“Please don’t,” he whispered.

I sniffled. “Fuck. Why don’t I have kleenex?”

A roll of toilet paper was pressed into my hands. I ripped off a length and blew my nose in a way that women in the movies never do, then I jumped as he stroked my cheek with a cool finger, catching my tears. His hand was gone an instant later.

“What if they come back tonight?”

“They won’t,” he said firmly. I don’t think he was talking about the ongoing police presence on the street.

“What did you do?” I sniffled.

“I defended my home. That includes you now.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. I wasn’t sure that I couldn’t catch glimpses of him as the lights on the street kept flashing. Red, blue, huge black shadow.

“I don’t want to be alone right now,” I whispered.

The bed dipped but when I reached my arm out in that direction all I could find was a long fingered hand to hold mine. “You won’t be.”

I felt him tug at the blankets underneath me and I slid over so he could turn them back. Even in the dark I could find my sleep shirt under my pillow. I stood up next to the bed, stripped and pulled it over my head. Under the covers looking at the ceiling. Red, blue, shadow, red, blue shadow.

“Are you .. human shaped?”

“I can be.”

I snorted, “What kind of answer is that?”

“An honest one.”

I rolled on to my side so that my back was to him, or at least to where I thought he was.

“I can go.”

“Can you stay?”

The weight on the bed changed. “Don’t try to look at me, you will only give yourself nightmares.”

“You said you’ve read Blue Beard?”

“Yes.”

“Have you read Cupid and Psyche?”

He just snickered.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Does any of that apply here?”

“Are you going to try to burn me with an oil lamp?” he teased.

“Are you going to get me pregnant then cast me out into the wilds?” I countered.

He hissed at that, “Never.”

“Never get me pregnant or -”

“I’m not human. We can’t procreate. I can’t make you sick. You can’t make me sick. We can drive each other insane and you will be able to escape someday. I can not leave.”

“Why not?”

“You need to rest. Don’t ask questions with scary answers.”

“How am I supposed to know they are scary?”

“Because you are asking a monster. Now, go to sleep.”

That was the most ridiculous thing but I wasn’t up to arguing about it. Not while there was still an active crime scene next door.

I fell asleep to the feeling of him stroking my back.

----

The only furniture in the bed room was the bed and a few boxes of random stuff I had moved in. I woke to find one of them had been used as a table and was holding breakfast for me. Or at least a travel mug of coffee and a plate of toast. I sat in bed, drank my coffee, ate my toast and read the thirty seven emails from everyone I knew asking what the fuck happened next door.

I ended up posting a blanket statement on facebook that I was fine. I was still in my house. I had no idea what had happened other than what I had seen on the news. Then I posted a picture of the three squad cars I could still see out my bedroom window.

My boss emailed me to ask when he could expect the report I had been assigned, so that took up the rest of my day. It was getting dark when I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. Another freezer meal, some salad and I was raiding the wine cellar again, god damn it!

As I was pouring wine into a coffee mug, he asked me, “Are you drinking alone?”

I got up, took another mug out of the cupboard, poured a second drink and turned off the kitchen light. “Nope. I’m not alone. You’re here.”

He didn’t answer, as I ate my dinner by the light of the street lights outside. The porch light was outside the kitchen window, so I turned it on to wash the dishes then turned it off to go upstairs. It would have been better if I hadn’t stubbed my toe on the bottom step. I swore. Nick picked me up and carried me up the stairs.

“I didn’t have that much to drink!” I protested.

“No, but you can’t see in the dark.” He tucked me safely into bed.

“Did you change the sheets?” I asked. He didn’t answer. “You did, didn’t you?”

My laptop opened and his body blocked the screen for a few moments. Then Brooklyn 99 came on and it was set next to me.

“Why are you doing this?”

“We need a distraction. Call Penny.”

“We need a distraction? We?”

“Yes.”

I hesitated. “Do you need me to move out and camp in the backyard for a few days?”

His reply was a nonverbal roar that rattled the windows and set off a car alarm outside.

There was a commotion then the cops were knocking on my door. I sighed and turned on the lights. I decided to be proactive this time. I flung open the door and demanded “What the hell are you doing out here?”

The cops on my porch blinked.

“I’m trying to sleep! Can you keep the noise down? Please? I know whatever you are doing is important but can you just do it a little quieter?”

“That wasn’t us!” the youngest protested.

“Then can you find out who it was and make them stop?”

To my delight, they left.

I closed the door, smiled to myself and bounced off a wall of darkness that caught me before I rebounded against the door.

“I do not want you sleeping outside!” he growled in my ear.

There were one set of arms around my shoulders and another holding my hips and back. I tried to think of a ‘what big arms you have Mr Wolf’ quip but it died on my lips and the touch was gone in an instant.

“Nick? Can you help me not trip on things on my way to the stairs?”

Hands on my hips, pushing me gently forward and steering me around boxes. Another hand guiding mine to the banister. Then nothing. I carefully inched my way upstairs. I did that awkward thing at the top where you think there is still one more step but there isn’t so your leg falls through nothing and you stumble. To my right was the bedroom, still lit by the flickering screen of my computer.

I climbed into bed and closed it.

Then I opened it, stared at the browser for a moment, then closed it again.

“What’s wrong?”

I considered this. I really had no secrets from him anymore. “I’m anxious and keyed up. I need … some ‘alone time’ but it’s weird if you are watching.”

“Would it be better if I was helping?” he teased.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know what you are working with. But I feel lonely.”

Gentle fingers took my hand and raised it. The lips that kissed and the tongue that laved were not human. I turned my hand to stroke his face but he leaned away.

That stung. I let my hand fall to the bed. “It isn’t fair that you get to touch me but I can’t touch you.”

He didn’t say anything to that. A car drove past and the headlights lit the room for an instant. Long enough for me to see four glittering eyes watching me, two forward facing and two further to the sides. Not human, I reminded myself. In the darkness, a hand cupped my face, thick lips caught mine and as I kissed him a tentacle like tongue licked at my lips before darting briefly down my throat.

“I can do better than that toy,” he promised, “but you can not see me.”

I nodded. Four hands stroking me over my clothes. A mouth kissing and licking at my neck. I was expecting him to peel me out of my clothes, instead his touch was so feathery gentle. Hands cupped my face as he nuzzled my hair. I strained my eyes trying to see him, but I could catch only the faintest outline. Any time I reached out for him he pulled away. Finally, he got frustrated with that and pinned my hands over my head.

I panicked and pulled my hands away and just like that he was gone.

“Nick?”

I don’t know why I was expecting an answer. I groaned and pressed both palms to my face covering my eyes. I jumped when he caressed my calf, but I didn’t move my hands.

“What are you doing, little girl?”

“Damned if I know,” I admitted. “It’s been … I don’t even know anymore… how long have I been stuck in this house? Weeks? Months? None of this seems real anymore. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m real anymore either. I just need … something.”

“Someone,” he whispered.

“Yeah. Someone to make me feel like I’m real. Just to make me feel.”

“Humans need other humans to be human,” he muttered. “You should have just called your friend.”

My eyes prickled again and tears splashed against my hands. “How long have you been here?”

“There was an accident shortly after the house was built. I came because of that.”

That raised a lot of questions, but my immediate one was, “How long have you been here alone?”

“On and off since then. Most people don’t last much more than a month or two. Normally, construction crews are the advance party before they move in. It’s easy enough to get rid of the new owners. You were just too stupid to leave.”

I snorted, “Were you really trying to make me go? Because living here was creepy but not anywhere close to the scariest place I’ve ever lived.”

“My heart wasn’t in it. I need you to finish fixing the place first. Sooner or later someone would have built one of those ridiculous houses on the lot.” He started to massage my calf as he spoke.

“The house is more than a hundred years old. That’s a long time to be alone,” I pointed out.

“Enough time to get good at it,” he countered.

I moved my hands then and sat up to look at him. I thought I could see a pool of shifting darkness. “What are you? Are you a ghost? Did someone die here and -”

“Many people have died here. I am not one of them.”

I thought about that for a moment. “Am I?”

“What?”

“Am I some dead woman who is all alone here making excuses for why I can’t leave?”

He laughed at me then, not a jolly laugh, an odd howling laugh. “How did you come up with that ridiculous idea?”

It stung a little, “It’s a popular plot point in a number of movies. And I can’t help but notice you didn’t answer the question.”

He stopped laughing when he realized I was serious and said flatly, “You aren’t dead.”

#quarantine #oh my god they were quarantined #monster boyfriend #shadow monster

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pixieungerstories · 3 years

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Quarentine - 1

They always say ‘buy the worst house on the best block that you can afford’ and god knows this place was a total shit hole. 1200 square feet on an overgrown lot surrounded by McMansions. Hell, I paid less for the place that the land was worth. I’m amazed someone hadn’t bulldozed the place years ago.

To make a long story short, I did not look a gift house horse in the mouth.

I mean, it wasn’t a total write off. None of the windows were smashed. There were mature fruit trees in the backyard. If you ignored the weeds and rotting fruit, there was a lot of potential. The plumbing was lead pipes and the electrical was knob and tube, but I know people and I could trade favours to get that replaced. The foundations were good and the roof barely leaked.

I spent the summer camping in a tent in the back yard and slowly getting the place winterized enough that I could move it.

It was still a creepy ass house when I did. It had a boiler. I had no idea how to deal with that, but I was learning. And I learned how to ignore the whistles, hissing and banging sounds that went with having a boiler. The old rads were cast iron with pretty little details in the corners.

There were holes in the plaster, but I just ignored them. It wasn’t worth fixing when I was going to gut the place and put up drywall eventually. It just made it easier to get at the plumbing.

I started just living in the kitchen and ignoring the rest of the house. I had disconnected the rest of the electrical and plumbing and was using that as a home base while I renovated outwards from there.

There is nothing quite as creepy as sleeping in a sleeping bag on what were probably asbestos tiles in an old house that makes the weird noises that old houses make. I kept reminding myself that they only seemed louder than normal because the place was empty and there was nothing to muffle the sound. The shrieking had to be the upstairs window that didn’t quite shut properly.

I had the feeling that something was watching me and prayed to god it wasn’t rats.

I was in this for the long haul. Get up, shower at the gym, go to work, come home, renovate until it gets dark, shower at the gym, camp out in the kitchen. Not exciting, but satisfying. Let’s face it, this was the only way I was ever going to be able to afford a house.

When the work from home order came, I had to actually get a phone line installed so I could have internet access. Me, my laptop and a kitchen table I rescued from the curbside a while back.

The creepy feeling was worse. I told myself it had to be the isolation kicking in. I skyped with my best friends at night to make up for it. The power was still a bit dodgy and kept going out, but that’s what laptop batteries and cell phones are for, right?

I was sure the cough was from the dust.

The guy delivering groceries left them on the sidewalk instead of the porch. It was fine. I understood completely. I hadn’t done much work on the outside of the building at all.

I realized I was sneezing a bit when I started having to use toilet paper as kleenex.

I was fine. I was young and healthy. I didn’t have any sick days at work so I was determined to just push through.

I tried to get more rest.

I dreamed about something laying a cool hand on my forehead.

The grocery store was out of thermometers.

I mean, did it really matter if I had a fever? I wasn’t leaving the house to share with anyone.

My cough got worse overnight. I was vaguely aware of someone lifting me up and holding a cup of cool water to my lips. I was so fucking thirsty.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I mumbled. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I won’t,” a rumbling voice assured me.

I didn’t remember making soup, but I jolted into awareness sitting at the table with a steaming bowl in front of me. Chicken noodle out of a can. It’s not that hard to make. I’m sure I could add water and heat in my sleep. Apparently, I just did.

I was so cold that night. I don’t know where the extra blankets came from, but they were there in the morning.

I don’t know how I ordered a bed while I was sick, but it was there and on my credit card. So was the mattress and sheets. It must have been the fever talking when I ordered them. I would not have picked out anything that old fashioned looking.

How did I get all this stuff up to the second floor bedroom? I’m sure I don’t remember stripping the paint off the closet doors. I must be losing my mind. I slept, I ate, I stopped logging in at work. I just needed to concentrate on getting better.

By the time I was able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, the city was shut down. I was confined to my house whether I liked it or not. I was suddenly glad my fever addled brain had ordered a bed while I still could.

The watched feeling was worse. I ordered some rat traps with my groceries. I didn’t catch anything. They didn’t take the bait. I swear I heard snickering when I checked them in the morning. That was a new sound for the boiler to make.

“I am losing my mind,” I repeated to myself. Then blushed when I realized I had said it aloud. “And yes, I also talk to myself,” I added for good measure. “At least it is some sound,” I muttered. “I should turn on some music or something.”

Work was officially shut down but I still had the dumpster outback. I spend my awake time cleaning out the other rooms. The advantage of living in a construction zore was all the dust masks. When I needed to actually go out, that might help. In the meantime, I carefully sorted through the things the previous owners had left behind. Some of it was just trash, but there were some old photographs, lost buttons, even a single antique earring.

“No chance of finding a pair, I bet. Still this could be made over into a necklace or something.” Shit. I was talking to myself again, wasn’t I?

I still got tired easily. I dreamed about my mom stroking my hair as I slept.

The footprints I couldn’t explain away.

I had taken down a section of wall and spent the day carrying out the chunks of plaster before microwaving a pizza pop and tucking in early. In the morning there were footprints in the dust. They weren’t mine. They were huge and it was hard to believe they were human. Weird long toes, with the claw tips a little in front were not what I was expecting.

That was the first time I had wanted to leave the house.

I grabbed my stuff and made it to the front yard before I was spotted by a passing patrol car and ordered back inside. I had no idea how to explain that I thought there was some sort of monster living in my house. I was shaking as I went back inside.

“Hello?” I called from the doorway, ready to run. I had no idea where I could even run to. “Um… Is anyone there?” I don’t know what I was expecting. “Hi? Um …. I bought the house, I didn’t know there was any … thing living here. I have been trying to fix it up.”

“I know.”

Fuck. The scratchy, rasping bass voice was not what I was expecting. “I … uh… I can go back to camping in the yard,” I suggested.

“No.”

I waited to hear if he (?) was going to say anything else.

Apparently not.

“Uh … no I can’t stay here? Or no, you don’t even want me camping in the backyard?”

“If I didn’t want you here, I would have had many opportunities to get rid of you.”

Shit. That wasn’t ominous or threatening at all.

With a low chuckle the voice asked, “Did you mean to say that out loud?”

I froze and tried to remember what I had said. Oh. “No, that was an accident. I’m not used to having anyone around to hear me.”

“I always hear you.”

I closed the door and went out to sit in the garden for a moment to think about that. I ended up pacing, swearing and wishing for a cigarette. I hadn’t smoked in years. The sun started to go down and the bugs came out. I was being eaten alive outside. Going inside was scary but he was right. He had lots of time to …

I flung open the door. “Did you order furniture on my credit card?” I demanded.

The laughter that rang out was a whole other level of creepy. I shivered and thought about going back outside. The door pulled itself closed behind me. I spun to look at it and didn’t see anything. I could hear something breathing. I turned again. Nothing.

“If we are both going to live here, can we at least agree on some ground rules?”

“Like what?” was almost purred in my ear. Looking around wildly, I still couldn’t see anything.

I was shaking now. “Is there a way for you to be less scary so I don’t have a heart attack?” I squeaked.

There was nothing but silence. Still my sense of the presence suggested it was gone.

I didn’t sleep that night. I would just start to nod off then jerk myself awake and look wildly around the room. I never saw anything.

Six am, my alarm went off and I could smell coffee.

All the dust had been swept up.

“Hello?” I whispered.

Nothing. I had coffee and cereal and tried not to think about my surprise roommate. I was so tired, I passed out at my computer in the kitchen at some point that morning, only to wake in bed upstairs in the afternoon. “I don’t want you to touch me while I’m sleeping,” I mumbled, painfully aware that there was dick all I could do to stop it.

“Alright,” the voice said, coming from somewhere in the direction of the closet. “But don’t fall asleep at the table then.”

I breathed a faint sigh of relief. I wasn’t expecting the next part.

“You need to eat something now. You are still recovering.”

There was a can of soup heating on the stove. My breakfast dishes were gone. I found them clean and dry in the cupboard. “Thank you,” I whispered. He didn’t reply. As I ate lunch, I was psyching myself into going upstairs to look in the closet. The door had been painted shut when I got the house, but at some point had been stripped down to the bare wood.

I hadn’t worked up the nerve by the time I was done eating. Or washing and drying the dishes. I found myself at the bottom of the stairs staring up at the second floor. Did I really want to see what was in that closet?

No.

But it would be better to look during the light of day.

Eventually, I made it up there. I put my hand on the knob and tried to turn it. It didn’t budge.

“You want rules?” the voice growled behind me. I spun, there was nothing there. “Do not open that door. Do not come into my space.”

I went from trembling from nerves to bolting down the stairs in an instant. I nearly tripped, but felt something - him? - catch me and set me on my feet.

“Careful,” he purred.

I spent the rest of the day in the garden again. I was still out there when the sun went down and the back light turned on. Then the kitchen light and for a moment I could see something outlined against the antique curtains I hadn’t replaced in the kitchen. I tried to remind myself that he wasn’t necessarily that big. He might just be closer to the light and casting a bigger shadow.

I didn’t believe it, but I tried.

I crept back into the house like a scared child who wasn’t sure how angry their parents were going to be after they had done something wrong. I turned on all the lights on the main floor and stayed in the kitchen away from the stairs.

“Planning on staying up all night?”

I jumped. “How are you always behind me?”

“I live in the shadows. Go to bed.”

“Um… I was thinking, that should be your room, really. Your closet. You picked out the bed. I can just camp down -”

“No. Go to bed.”

“Do you really think I’m going to be able to sleep in a room with a closet that must not be opened? I have read Blue Beard, you know.”

“So have I. The wife gets the house and lives happily ever after.”

“The last wife does,” I pointed out. “The first dozen or so didn’t.”

He chuckled at that. “We made a deal, remember?”

“Are you teasing me? What deal?”

“I don’t touch you in your sleep. You don’t sleep in the kitchen anymore.”

“How big are you?”

The lights flickered and went off.

“Do you want to see me?” he purred, so close that I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Not in the dark,” I squeaked.

“Go to bed.”

The light snapped back on, leaving me blinking.

I spent the night sitting on the bed with my back pressed against the headboard trying to see the whole room at one. Eventually, I fell asleep.

My alarm did not go off at six. It had been turned off. The coffee was ready but not turned on when I went down stairs. The air smelled faintly of solder. There was a post-it stuck to the coffee maker. Fine copperplate handwriting told me:

I have replaced the plumbing

I stared at it dumbly. I had replaced the plumbing to the kitchen sink and the downstairs powder room and had been washing out of the sink since I had been forced to stay home. The only other plumbing was down to the washing machine in the cellar and the upstairs bathroom. I pushed the button on the coffee maker and slowly crept upstairs.

Sure enough the stack of copper pipe waiting in the other bedroom was gone.

Well, not gone. I could see it installed through the holes in the walls. I turned on the tap to the sink and sure enough, I had water. I now had an upstairs, working bathroom with a clawfoot tub.

And no walls.

“I don’t like the idea of you watching me bathe,” I called out. Then I felt like an idiot because if whatever it was had voyeur tendencies, it could have been watching me for months. I tried all the taps and the toilet. Everything worked.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, unsure if I was talking to myself.

“You’re welcome.” It was the least creepy, most normal thing I had heard from him.

----

When I got back downstairs, there still wasn’t coffee but there was a new note:

Humans who do not sleep start to hallucinate

I crumbled it up, threw it across the room and jabbed the on switch on the coffee maker. Nothing happened. I growled as I plugged it in. The power went out.

“Oh come on! Withholding coffee is cruel and unusual punishment!”

“Sleep.” It sounded like the whole house had murmured that last bit.

I wish I could say I handled it gracefully, but I didn’t. I stomped back up to the bedroom like a petulant child.

I woke to bright sunlight streaming in through the window. The house was quiet and it felt empty for the first time in days. I had a bath and washed my hair and I felt better than I had in days too. Clean and dry and dressed, I bounced into the kitchen to try and turn on the coffee again only to see my laptop snap shut.

It was with a lot of trepidation that I opened it. I was expecting a ridiculous online purchase which is why I stared dumbly at the screen unable to process what I was seeing.

It was a CGI woman with her hands tied to something over her head being railed by a monster who was fingering her clit with one hand and fondling her breasts with the other while her belly distended in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Ugh! Dude! You can NOT watch porn on my laptop!” I shrieked as I frantically tried to close the window.

“Would you rather I watch you?” he asked calmly from somewhere to the left of me.

I breathed out a shaky breath. “OK. Let’s talk about private browser windows and how not to get a computer virus.”

When I got to the end of my tentative explanation, I asked, “Do you need … some alone time?”

There was another house shaking howling laugh.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“You need to eat.”

That brought up a whole other issue. “Do you? Eat I mean. Do you eat? What do you eat?”

“Don’t worry about me. I am not going to eat you. Unless you ask nicely.”

I blushed even further but got out a pan and a skillet meal from the fridge.

I spend the rest of the afternoon weeding the garden. I came in when it got dark, heated up my leftovers from lunch and tried to figure out what to do with myself. The nap had meant that I wasn’t tired for the first time in days.

I wondered what he would do if I watched a movie. I hunted through the cupboards and found a bag of microwave popcorn from before the virus started. Right! I thought. Bowl of popcorn, a movie, skype with a few friends. Pretend none of this was happening.

I wasn’t surprised when the lights went out. That was just a thing now. My computer was still illuminating a bubble around me and B99 was still hilarious.

I wasn’t expecting the bed to dip next to me. That once again raised the question of how to deal with him around others. I hit the mute button. “What are you doing?” I asked icily.

“Not touching you. What are you eating?”

“Human food.”

“Hmmm.”

I unmuted my computer to answer Penny’s question about how stir crazy I was going.

“12/10 on the looney toons scale,” I offered.

She just laughed.

All of the popcorn was gone.

“Ah hell.”

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked.

“All my popcorn is gone,” I grumbled. I didn’t add that I had more than half a bowl left a moment ago. Not eating me, I reminded myself.

“That sucks. Need to pause and get more?”

“I don’t have anymore.”

She just laughed, “But do you still have toilet paper and hand sanitizer?”

I chuckled, “Toilet paper, at least.”

“I should go. It’s getting late,” she said with a yawn.

“Yeah. Good night.” After Penny signed off, I just let Netflix autoplay the next episode.

“Do you need to sleep?” The whisper seemed to come from the direction of the closet but the bed was still dipped under his weight on my other side.

My heart leapt to my throat. “How many of you are there?”

“Just me,” he purred too close to my ear. I flung myself away from him and toppled out of bed. Two hands caught me.

Two other hands caught my laptop.

I stared as it was placed back on the bed a little way in front of me. The hands on my arms were cool and smooth. “What are you?”

“I am me. I have not asked your name. You will not ask mine.”

“My name is on the mail. And my credit card. You know my name,” I pointed out keeping my eyes locked on the screen, fighting the urge to look around.

“Nonetheless.”

This wasn’t going to work, but I had to try. “I would like to be alone now.”

The bed shifted as the weight was removed from the side. The black shadows that could be fingers moved from my computer. The voice said, “Good night” from the direction of the closet.

I sat frozen. “In the morning, I’m moving the bed to another room.”

“Why?”

“Because the closet is yours and it’s scary being here with you,” I admitted.

“I have never done anything to harm you.”

“You scare the shit out of me multiple times a day.”

There was a long pause before he replied, “And yet you haven’t left.”

“The city is on lock down. I can’t leave.”

“Hmm.”

I jumped as my laptop snapped shut. I fumbled in the dark trying to find it on my bed, “What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Taking this downstairs. I will not bother you tonight.”

“What-” I started to say, then snapped my mouth shut as the realization that this may be his ‘alone time’.

This time the “Good night,” came from the bedroom door.

In the morning the only thing in my browsing history was netflix. This was less comforting since I had shown him how to clear the cache. I told myself at least the keyboard wasn’t sticky.

#quarantine #oh my god they were quarantined

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