The Boy Who Was God (standard:horror, 6785 words)
Author: Andrew R	Added: Jun 16 2002	Views/Reads: 3504/2272	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
He needed a new start, to put the past behind him. He hated the country but what the hell, it's about as far away as is comfortable, and he'd be helping people right?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Mock Tudor design.  Two doors facing each other on either sidewall led 
out of the room.  James looked nervously around and couldn't find any 
signs of a light in the room. "Not been keeping up with the electricity 
bills huh?"  He joked. The woman didn't turn or respond; instead she 
led him to the right hand door that opened into a well-lit corridor.  
She looked at him with a cold stare. "Door Lenzinus is expecting you, 
his door is at the end of the corridor.  Knock and wait for him to 
answer." James hesitated, unsure of what to do, then he walked past the 
woman, feeling her cold eyes follow his every movement. "Thank you," he 
said as he moved past her. 

The corridor was white, powerful strip lighting exposed every detail.  A
black featureless door juxtaposed on the corridor.  The boundaries of 
the walls seemed lost in the light, the door seemed to shimmer.  James 
took a step forward hesitantly; he looked at the woman, still holding 
the door, holding his gaze with her cold expressionless eyes.  He 
walked towards the door and knocked.  He sensed the woman move away, 
closing the other door behind her.  A strange sense of relief came over 
him.  Her gaze had sent a cold chill through his heart, something 
uneasy about her. 

A pulse of light went through the short corridor sending a sharp
stabbing pain through James head.  He felt his legs grow weak beneath 
him; the hall turned grey, then black.  He reached out to steady 
himself; another wave of hot light hit him.  The corridor had changed, 
no longer white but red; the walls were dripping blood.  He looked at 
his hand, stained red, the blood still warm.  In the corner of his eye 
he thought he saw movement, he turned quickly to catch it.  The walls 
had moved; he was in a wide expanse, waves of red flowing everywhere.  
Writhing bodies surrounded him, melting into each other, licking, 
sucking and thrusting. They were scarlet from the blood.  Moans of 
pleasure arose all around him.  Suddenly, they all turned to stare at 
James, their bodies still writhing.  Their faces were distorted, 
grotesque, like the gargoyles in the statues.  They had long, thick 
tongues and a thick black liquid seemed to be oozing out of every 
private orifice.  They looked at James mockingly; he felt his heart 
beat faster and faster in pace with their thrusting. The door opened.  
Doctor Lenzinus stood looking at James. "Are you alright Mr Simpson?" 
James looked at him, the white sterile corridor suddenly returned.  He 
felt his heartbeat rushing, deafening him. "I'm sorry Doctor, these 
lights, I think I almost fainted.  It's very hot in here." The Doctor 
smiled at him weakly. "Yes it is rather, isn't it?  Well, would you 
like to come in and sit down?" The Doctor motioned James into his 
office; he sat him down at a large wide desk. 

Doctor Lenzinus sat down opposite James.  The desk was bare apart from a
pen and an envelope.  The room was large, yet seemed smaller because of 
the amount of shelves filling the walls.  Only the wall behind the desk 
was bare, housing a small window that looked out onto the muddy brown 
grounds outside.  The other walls were filled with files, and, what 
looked like videotapes, hundreds of videotapes.  Doctor Lenzinus was 
tall with grey hair swept over to disguise his fading hairline.  He had 
a weathered sunken face, and a familiar malnourished look that made 
James think of the woman who had answered the door.  The Doctor stared 
at James, studying him.  It made James feel uncomfortable, he felt like 
every inch of his body was being scrutinised, evaluated.  He thought 
the man was probably queer and wanted to fuck him; bend him over the 
table there and then, take him by force, rape him.  James felt his 
pulse quicken, his old paranoia threatening to overtake him again. 
"Coffee?" "Pardon?"  James shocked out of his drifting thoughts by the 
interruption.  Doctor Lenzinus looked at him, holding a coffee pot in 
his hand. "Would you like coffee Mr Simpson?" The coffee was black like 
tar, steaming, the smell sticking in his throat, threatening to choke 
him. "Thank you Doctor, that would be very nice." He pored into a cup 
James had failed to notice, not offering milk or sugar.  He pushed the 
cup towards James and pored another.  The Doctor looked at him again 
and smiled that uncomfortable smile.  James felt like he should say 
something but he wasn't sure what.  He had flashes of a time when he 
was at school, ten years before, called into the head masters office, 
unsure why, but thinking that he'd done something wrong.  He found 
himself staring at the fearsome old git who just stared and looked 
expectant.  He wished he knew why.  It was a recurring nightmare, even 
after he had found out the headmaster only wanted to tell him his 
mother had phoned to say his sister had given birth to a baby boy.  It 
was the waiting uncertainty he couldn't take.  The Doctor held the 
silence, watching James closely.  He sipped his coffee nervously and 
returned the smile. "I have been studying your CV Mr Simpson and 
something confuses me." James felt suddenly nervous again. "What's that 
Doctor?" "It's the two year gap between qualifying as a trauma 
councillor and you applying for this job. What did you do in that time? 
Your CV doesn't mention." "Well I did a bit of travelling, working 
abroad that type of thing," James lied.  "I had spend four years 
studying in college and I needed time to relax and reflect."  It 
sounded plausible.  Better than the truth, two years in a bed-sit, 
doing nothing but hiding. "So this would be your first professional 
appointment then?" "Yes." "And why should I employ someone without much 
practical experience who hasn't done any counselling in two years?" 
James looked at the Doctor sheepishly.  This was the make or break one. 
 In a split second he had to decide whether to spin the Doctor some 
spiel or go brutally honest.  He leaned forward, looking the Doctor 
straight in the eye. "Honestly?  I can't answer that question.  All I 
can say is, I'm only 25 and willing to learn.  I've spent the last two 
years re-evaluating my life and I've decided this is what I want to do, 
help other people through their traumas.  It's not a decision I've 
taken lightly because it's taken me two years, so I'm serious.  You're 
an experienced psychologist Doctor Lenzinus, I'm young and 
enthusiastic, I want to learn and who better to teach me?" The Doctor 
held James' stare for a second then looked away.  He was chuckling 
quietly. "I haven't heard spiel put so honestly in a long time Mr 
Simpson.  I'm impressed, I think we could work well together." He 
laughed again and offered his hand to shake.  James took it and 
chuckled too, realising just how much he needed to get away from his 
present life, despite his concerns about this place. "Does this mean?  
Thank you Doctor.  I'll show you you've made the right decision." 
"Would you like to meet your patient before you jump in feet first." 
"Err. Yes of course.  Sorry Doctor." James realised he had forgotten 
his earlier fears, the bloody vision worried him again for a second, 
then he put it to the back of his mind.  The Doctor had stood up and 
walked towards the door.  He was gesturing James to follow him. "I will 
tell you a bit about the boys case history on the way." He seemed to 
remember something and walked to one of his shelves, too quickly, he 
came to what he was looking for.  He looked at James, still sitting, 
"Shall we go Mr Simpson?" "Yes, of course." He stood up and followed 
the Doctor out of the room. James glanced at the file as he walked 
along with the doctor, glossing over the pictures of abuse, burn marks 
and bruising on the boys body.  It brought back too many memories of 
his ordeal two years before.  He clenched his eyes shut as he walked 
along, trying to shut out the memory.  The Doctor, oblivious to James' 
discomfort, continued to detail the boys horrific past. "The boy has a 
god fixation.  He was fifteen when it happened.  He was always quite 
unstable with the amount of abuse he had suffered over the years, but 
one day he shouted at his brother 'I wish you were dead,' and then he 
was.  Quite strange really; just dropped down dead in front of him.  
The boy was only two and the coroner was never able to determine the 
cause of death.  It was listed as accidental, but it was that time when 
the abuse was discovered.  The boy had convinced himself he was god and 
all-powerful, his main paranoia is that if he dies we will all cease to 
exist as we are formed by his mind.  For a depressive fifteen year old 
who has been physically and sexually abused by his parents for years 
it's a lot to bear.  A break down was inevitable.  He tried to stab his 
mother one day and he's been with us ever since." Lenzinus gave James a 
curiously malicious smile. "Do you know where he stabbed her?" James 
realised suddenly that he had been trying not to listen to the Doctor. 
"Stabbed who?" "His mother of course.  He stabbed her in the vagina, he 
held a small razor blade in his hand and shoved his entire fist up 
inside her and tried to wave the razor blade around." James was stunned 
and repulsed at the same time. "But how?" He faltered. "Well apparently 
it was something his mother had made him do on a number of occasions, 
without the razor blade mind you.  The practise is called fisting. 
Quite pleasurable if done correctly I have heard, but not the sort of 
activity normally undertaken by a mother and her son." 

The Doctor seemed to take far to much delight in describing 'fisting' to
James.  He was smiling and James had the feeling it was either 
something deviant the Doctor had tried, or would like to try.  He got 
that uncomfortable 'Queer' paranoia again; feeling like the Doctor was 
studying every inch of his body.  He felt his skin crawl, like a 
thousand cockroaches where moving over him, covering him, suffocating 
him. He clenched his eyes shut trying to put away memories of that 
night in the pub, when they had forced him...it was still to painful to 
even think about. 

I am god. I am the one.  All powerful, all seeing. I want to die, but I
can't.  If I die, you die; I can't take the guilt. Florescent light, 
burning; throbbing in my head, an onrush of engulfing blood.  I stand 
drenched, dripping scarlet, fake smile of benevolence, blessing my 
children.  I feel your pain, I know it intimately; it possesses me.  
Your guilt in bondage, holding me down: sexual, psychotic, and jealous. 
 I want to scream but I am frozen paralytic.  My dilemma?  My 
depression. Your guilt is killing me, but it's the only reason I live.  
I shall die soon, I feel myself drifting; then you shall cease to 
exist.  I hold you in my minds eye, fragile, my child, sick and weak. 

They came to another brightly lit corridor.  A row of shiny metal doors
faced each other, the lighting making it unclear how far along they 
went. "I should tell you one thing before we enter the boys cell Mr 
Simpson.  He has become somewhat catatonic in recent months.  He is 
staying consistent with his God fantasy however, well, you'll see what 
I mean in a minute." James followed the Doctor down the corridor.  He 
felt a migraine creeping up on him with the heat and the lighting.  
They stopped at the third door on the left, dull metal grey made shiny 
by the overbearing florescent lighting.  The Doctor brought out a large 
bunch of keys from his pocket, found the one he wanted, almost without 
trying and unlocked the door.  It swung open silently to reveal a boy 
who looked about fifteen, though James knew he was older.  The Doctor 
said he had been here for three years and had been committed at 
fifteen.  He stood in a flimsy medical robe; it looked like he was 
naked underneath, but James didn't want to look too closely.  The boy 
was catatonic alright, what was strange about it was the position he 
stood in, his arms were outstretched and his legs crossed over, his 
head lay pointing to his left; he was standing in the crucifix 
position. "I see what you mean about being consistent with his God 
fixation.  I've never seen anything like this before." The Doctor gave 
James a look that said, you haven't seen anything at all yet, his eyes 
went suddenly dark; James thought he could see the pornographic images 
of gargoyles in his eyes. "How long has he been like this Doctor?" "Oh, 
a couple of months now.  I have the exact date in my records, but my 
sister does most of the caring for this patient." "I didn't think he 
had had much psychological counselling?" "Oh, he hasn't.  My sister 
acts as housekeeper and nurse at Nuhanger Lodge.  She washes and feeds 
the boy daily, some of the other catatonic patients too." James looked 
at him feigning interest.  He had never seen a real catatonic before. 
"Can I take a closer look at him?" "Of course Simpson, feel free." 
James walked into the room.  He immediately felt disorientated, the 
padded white cell was as well lit as the corridor, there was no 
furniture, no point of reference, just a burning sensation from the 
overpowering lighting.  The boy had raven black hair down to his 
shoulders.  He had that sunken malnourished look that made James think 
of the Doctor and his sister, it was almost like a family resemblance.  
He stood about a foot away from the boy, trying to study him.  The 
boy's eyes flicked from the side to meet James' gaze.  He was about to 
turn to mention it to the Doctor when the boy's eyes started moving 
violently, flitting here and there; a look of panic across his face.  
James froze, unsure what to do. "Doctor," he spoke as quietly as he 
could, "he seems to be moving his eyes." The boy had started moving his 
head now, barely noticeable, except that James was looking so hard.  It 
was shaking back and forth, like he was trying to say no and was 
stricken with fear. "Well, Mr Simpson.  I haven't seen this sort of 
reaction from the boy in a long time, he seems to like you." He was 
moving his head more obviously now, rapidly from side to side.  His 
lips began to move and James thought he could hear him whispering 
something.  He leaned closer to catch what the boy was saying. "Help 
me, help me, help me, help me..." He repeated it like a mantra.  His 
eyes met James', a look of absolute fear in them; he kept moving his 
gaze from James to Doctor Lenzinus, repeating his mantra over and over. 
 Then the mantra changed. "Lucifer, Satan, daemon, devil, Lucifer, 
Satan, daemon, devil." Then almost without him noticing it changed 
again. "Lenzinus, Satan, daemon, devil, Lenzinus, Satan, daemon, 
devil." 

James glanced back at the Doctor, who was standing at the door, smiling
his unhinging smile.  James went to speak and found that no sound came 
out.  Suddenly the boy screamed, high-pitched terror, like a baby in 
agony.  He hadn't expected such a high pitch voice from a male; it 
threw him for a second.  He turned back to the boy who jumped back and 
threw himself into the foetal position in the corner of the room, 
screaming again and again. 

James felt a rushing and the bloody vision returned.  The walls of the
room fell into the distance to be replaced by waves of red.  The boy 
was still there, screaming in the foetal position.  Just behind him the 
grotesque grinding of bodies, hands reached out, touching the boy, 
caressing him.  One of the bodies' moved; hideous face up by the boys 
shoulder, its body draped over his, staining him with blood.  It looked 
straight at James and laughed, then turned back to the boy.  It started 
tonguing the boy's ear, the tongue seemed to be nearly a foot long.  
The boy's scream went up a pitch in intensity.  James turned around, 
the Doctor was still standing behind him but his eyes were black with 
no pupils.  He was naked and erect, his penis seemed to be enormous and 
he was thrusting it with his hands.  He leered at James, a giant 
tongue, shaped like a cow's fell out of his mouth.  He leaned down, 
holding James gaze and began to lick his erection, still thrusting with 
his hands.  James was frozen, paralysed by the Doctor's glare.  The 
Doctor's thrusting and licking became more and more frantic until he 
exploded, a black liquid shooting out towards James.  It splattered 
onto his face. 

He felt himself jump and bring his hand up reflexively to protect his
face.  James was standing facing the boy again.  The white padded cell 
had returned and the boy was standing catatonic in the crucifix 
position. "Can you see any movement Simpson?" James turned around; the 
Doctor was standing at the door, fully clothed and as normal as he had 
ever looked, that uncomfortable smile still spread across his face. 
"What, sorry?" "I said did you see any movement Mr Simpson?" James 
realised he was shivering, his clothes felt uncomfortable, he was 
drenched in sweat. "No I didn't see any movement Doctor." He turned and 
moved away from the catatonic boy. "Shall we return to my office then, 
to discuss arrangements?" James felt sick; his heartbeat was racing 
again, adrenaline making his mind race.  It must be the heat and the 
lighting he thought.  He tried to speak but no sound came out, so 
instead he looked blankly at the Doctor and followed him back to his 
office. 

The woman was in the office waiting for them. "You've my sister Janet
haven't you Mr Simpson." It wasn't a question. "Yes Doctor, she showed 
me to your office." She had a stare that was more unsettling than the 
Doctors smile.  She stood by the side of the desk, glaring at him.  
James sat down opposite the Doctor.  There was a photograph on the 
table.  The Doctor pushed it towards him. "This gives you a better idea 
of the type of abuse the boy has suffered.  I have hundreds of these, 
and hours of video tapes as well, all on the same boy." 

The boy was in the centre of the black and white picture, naked.  A
strange leather and metal contraption was attached to his head, over 
the shoulders and around the fore head.  Metal clamps came around to 
the face and held his mouth open; another set of clamps pulled his 
tongue forward.  His head had been positioned so that it was touching a 
naked woman's groin, the figure was faceless but he assumed it was the 
boy's mother.  The picture was taken from the point of view of another 
faceless body, a man, whose erection seemed to be entering the boy's 
anus.  James pushed the picture away; his own traumatic experience came 
flooding back.  Working late as a part time barman, after work drinks 
with a couple of guys he thought of as friends.  An argument had 
started; they were taking this piss out of 'bloody students' again.  
This time James decided to get political and defend his student 
friends.  The two men, drunk and stupid, had decided to show the 
'bloody student' a lesson from real men that he would never forget.  
They beat him and raped him over the pool table then dumped him outside 
in the car park.  He didn't report it; he had already finished his 
final exams so he didn't go back to college either.  He hid away and 
hadn't spoken to anyone he used to know in two years, not even Julia, 
the one person who might have been able to save him.  In a split second 
he made a decision. "OK Doctor, where do I sign?" The Doctor chuckled. 
"I see you have decided then Simpson.  Your impulsive certainly, I'll 
say that for you." He offered James his hand and they shook. "You can 
start tomorrow, don't worry about accommodation, we have a room ready 
for you.  Go home tonight and get your stuff, come back tomorrow 
morning at nine and we'll settle you in." "That's great Doctor, thank 
you." James still wasn't sure but he knew he had to make a new start, 
and London still held to many memories. 

Back home in London.  Tax dodging council flat, no decoration, and no
reminder of the outside world.  The worktops in the kitchen area were 
scattered with half empty take away dishes.  James sat at a table, a 
bottle of scotch in front of him.  Two years ago it had been scotch and 
pills, never enough to kill him, just enough to dull the pain for a few 
hours.  He poured a glass and downed it, all too familiar, then another 
and another.  He stood up and walked over to the bed, bare stomach and 
alcohol hot wiring his brain. 'No need to pack,' he thought, 'nothing I 
want to take'.  He fell down onto the bed and drifted into 
unconsciousness. 

It was Julia, by the river, a short walk away from College.  They were
walking hand in hand, he was as happy as he could remember.  He stopped 
her and looked into her eyes, he was about to ask her to marry him when 
something stopped him.  It was a look in her eyes, sadness.  James had 
trouble remembering it right.  He tried to look in her eyes again, what 
had he seen?  Bodies writhing; soaked in blood, grotesque and 
distorted.  He wasn't looking into her eyes now; he was in the bloody 
red hell again.  Julia was in front of him lying on the floor naked.  
The grotesque bodies were crawling all over her, touching every part of 
her body.  A long thick tongue entered her, thrusting in and out 
repeatedly, she groaned in pleasure.  Thick black liquid began to ooze 
from her body, her mouth her eyes, her vagina her anus.  She was 
stained with their blood, her face began to distort, like the bones 
were shifting violently under the skin.  She locked eyes with him and 
smiled mockingly, "Fuck me James, Lick my cunt and make me scream." 
James jumped, a jolt of adrenaline rushing through his body.  He was 
still in his bed-sit.  He was lying on his bed, fully clothed, light 
on.  He looked at the clock, it was 3am, and he last remembered looking 
at it at 11 o'clock.  He must have been dreaming again he thought.  He 
undressed and got into bed, he turned his lamp off and tried to get to 
sleep again.  His thoughts raced with his visions and his paranoia.  
Tomorrow was a new beginning. 

Julia had been his first and only love.  After there first drink she had
looked at him straight in the eye and said, "Are you going to shag me 
then or what?" They were both living in halls at the time so he had to 
sneak in.  The first two weeks of their relationship had been spent in 
her bedroom, fucking like bunnies.  James had never been as exhausted 
or content in his life.  The next three years had calmed down from the 
intensity of their first two weeks but he had fallen further and 
further in love with her.  She had such a matter of fact way of looking 
at life, everything was black or white, something James hated in other 
people, but other people weren't Julia.  She was a lot shorter than 
him, petite, dirty blonde hair, creamy blue eyes you could swim in.  He 
loved the look of her naked body, small pert breasts, toned body, pale 
white skin with a flush of red in her cheeks after she came.  After his 
attack he had cut off all contact with Julia.  She had called him for 
weeks, pounded on his door and cried on the doorstep.  Finally she got 
the hint.  The guilt had crushed James even further than his rape.  He 
hated himself for Julia, hated himself for letting those men, hated 
himself for letting so many people down, god he needed a new start. 

The Doctor had tried to show him more photos of the boy on the next
morning, had even offered to show him the video footage.  James 
refused, making week excuses.  He couldn't remember whether the woman 
'Janet' was supposed to be the Doctors sister or wife.  Something about 
the way she looked at him and sat so close next to him, surreptitiously 
touching him; it made James' skin crawl.  He had spent more time with 
the boy then, no movement, no visions, no progress.  They ate that 
night in a well-lit dining room, fitting the heavy oak design of the 
Doctors office.  He wondered where the patients ate.  Surly Janet 
couldn't feed them all; there must be some other staff.  The woman 
showed him to his room, his new hole, and refuge from prying society. 

There was a bed and a small cupboard by the side, the walls were white,
the lighting powerful.  It was bare and reminded James of the rooms 
more trustworthy patients would be kept in.  He felt like eyes were 
watching him, as he got undressed.  James throat burned, wanting whisky 
to sedate his sleep.  He lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, 
darkness took him quickly. 

No dreams.  He woke to light.  He couldn't remember stripping naked. 
The sheets on the bed were twisted.  James sat up aching, he didn't 
know why. 

The boy was still in his crucifix position.  Doctor Lenzinus left them
on their own.  James walked towards the boy, unsure of what to do.  He 
leant forward looking for any movement.  Nothing.  He walked around 
him, studying him.  He got the feeling the boy could sense everything 
he was doing.  James was at a loss, and then he knew what he had to do. 
 He walked around to face the boy again, looked straight into his eyes 
and took a deep breath. "I was raped." He paused; the boy was the first 
person he had ever told. "Two years ago, two men at work, and I've been 
running and hiding ever since." He continued for what seemed like 
hours, a cathartic soul bearing.  He didn't even notice until he felt 
the boys arm touch his shoulder.  He focussed on the boy; he was 
looking straight into James' eyes and whispering something. "My son was 
her son, my mother was his mother, my son was her son, my mother was 
her mother." The boy seemed to communicate in mantras.  James couldn't 
quite take in what he was hearing.  He felt his heart beat rise with 
the heat in the room, a pulse of light went through him and the bloody 
vision returned.  The boy was screaming now, high-pitched terror.  From 
the surround the distorted figures were reaching out to him, stroking, 
grasping, groping.  He hunched up in front of James, foetal position.  
James felt his legs give again and Blackness take him. 

He opened his eyes.  His bedroom.  Naked with his bed sheets twisted
around him tying his legs together. 

Things got blurred, days melted into each other.  A familiar pattern
followed, meeting with the boy, talking now, both telling their horror 
stories, the boys worse.  Then those visions, blood red, fucking, 
orgies, grotesque distorted figures, Julia's face appearing on theirs 
more and more often.  Each time he blacked out and found himself back 
in bed, naked and sweating, his bed sheets twisted around him.  James 
wasn't sure how long he'd been here anymore; he couldn't remember the 
last time he had sat down with the Doctor and his sister.  He was 
having trouble remembering anything but the visions and the boy's 
horror stories. 

It was another new day.  James decided not to see the boy, but to go to
the Doctors office.  He wasn't there, but he went into the office 
anyway and waited.  He grew curious about the files in the office.  He 
had seen some of the pictures of the boy, but he still hadn't met any 
of the other patients.  He wondered what type of people the Doctor 
dealt with day to day.  He walked to the shelf and picked a file at 
random; it contained more abusive pictures of the boy.  He put it back 
and went to another part of the shelf, picked another file at random, 
the boy again.  He tried another; the boy; then another, boy again.  He 
began to frantically search the files now, all of the boy; he was 
tearing them off the shelf uncaring where they were falling. "Fuck, 
fuck, fuck."  He was panicking now, his mind spinning with what it all 
meant.  "What the fuck is going on?" He went to the phone dialled 999 
then slammed it down quickly before it rang. "Think James, you've got 
to think."  He dialled directory enquiries.  "East Grinstead Police, 
please."  He put the phone down and re-dialled. 

The phone call lasted seconds, his heart in his mouth expecting Doctor
Lenzinus to come in the door at any moment.  He stood up after he put 
the phone down and ran out of the room, the policeman's words repeating 
through his head.  'No one under that name registered at Nuhanger 
Lodge.  No one has lived there in year's sir.  Are you sure you've got 
the right address?'  James ran and ran, he was going to his room to get 
his car keys, and then he was leaving.  Somehow he just didn't feel 
safe any more.  He slammed down the corridor and skidded to a halt at 
his bedroom door.  He opened it.  The boy was standing in the room 
staring straight at him. "Going somewhere James?" "Oh my god, we've got 
to get out of here, it's not safe."  He moved towards the boy and went 
to grab him by the shoulders.  The boy looked up, his eyes suddenly 
pitch black, his hands were by his sides and his hair seemed to be 
moving in an unseen wind.  The door slammed behind James and the light 
in the room started flickering on and of until the bulb blew, sparking 
and spitting from above. "I'm sorry James I can't allow you to leave, 
your family now, we know too much about each other for you to leave 
me." James edged backwards towards the door.  The boy rose up so that 
his feet were floating a few inches from the floor, he was smiling in 
that mocking way the daemons of his visions had been; he glided towards 
James. "What's the matter James, don't you want to be part of the 
family?" 

James turned and frantically tried the door handle.  He turned the
handle and pulled the door, some force seemed to be holding it back.  
He continued to pull, he heard the boy laugh manically and the door 
began slamming open and shut, James was unable to release his hand and 
he was thrust backwards and forwards with it.  He was thrown to the 
floor and the door lay open.  The doctor and his sister were standing 
in the doorway; they were both naked; the Doctor was erect.  Their eyes 
were black and empty, their feet inches above the ground.  James felt a 
wave of nausea overtake him as he blacked out. 

He was hot but had the feeling he was naked.  James felt sick and
groggy, like he was waking from a bad hangover.  He couldn't see, and 
through the fog of his mind he though someone might have placed a mask 
over his face.  He felt hands touching his chest, soft hands like a 
woman's.  The hands turned to lips that began to move down his torso.  
He was trying to fight it but he felt himself becoming aroused, he 
couldn't help it.  The lips and hands moved to his erection expertly.  
The pressure built, he tried to block the feeling out. He felt himself 
explode into the mouth.  Someone stood up; James felt them remove 
whatever it was covering his face.  The light was blinding and he 
couldn't focus, slowly they adjusted.  The boy stood there in front of 
him, his juice dribbling down his chin.  Janet stood at the back of the 
room, behind him, holding a video camera.  She was naked and with one 
hand she was caressing her breasts.  He looked down to see the Doctor 
in the same harness he had seen the boys picture.  His face was thrust 
in his sister's groin, he was moving it back and forward and grunting 
like a pig. 

It had gone on from then; they had used him up.  Fucked him and drugged
him.  He lived in the nightmare now; the vision was his reality.  They 
had ripped his eyelids off because he kept closing his eyes trying to 
hide away from the horror.  The boy had said he wasn't allowed; he had 
to see the truth; that was his penance for his sins. 

One day a policeman knocked at the door of Nuhanger Lodge.  Doctor
Lenzinus didn't panic he just stalled him. 

The burning lights are eternal.  The woman Janet stood over James' prone
body, her soft fleshy parts above his face, oozing a thick black 
liquid.  She lowered herself onto his face; he had lost the energy and 
will to fight it now.  Slowly she pushed downwards until his entire 
face was covered by her fleshy walls, further, further, she began to 
pull him in, swallowing him.  His shoulders snapped and crushed as they 
were pulled inside.  Soon nothing of James was left.  Janet laid on the 
floor, alone in the room, a bulge building in her belly. 

PC Ashgrove knocked on the door again.  He had waited five minutes now,
but he felt sure there was someone in.  He heard a noise and the man 
who had answered the other day opened the door. "Hello sir, I called 
the other day." "Yes officer, I remember, what can I do for you?"  A 
woman and a boy came up to join the man.  The woman looked to be in her 
early thirties and heavily pregnant, she had dark hair and a healthy 
glow.  The boy looked about fifteen and had the same dark hair as his 
mother. "Is this your wife sir?" "Yes officer, as I told you the other 
day, we've just moved into the property.  What did you say the name of 
the man who phoned was?" "He didn't leave a name, but he did sound very 
distressed." "Well your welcome to come in and search the house if you 
want."  The man gestured PC Ashgrove inside. 

Well, they seemed like a nice family, he thought as he drove back to
East Grinstead.  The house is much smaller than it looks on the outside 
mind you.  He put the call down to a crank and thought about his wife, 
it was high time they tried for a baby. 


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