It Happened in the Night Ch. 03

Pulling her back against him, he slammed all the way into her again as his own release hit him like a brick wall. His entire body shook and spasmed as his orgasm passed through him and into her. After a few minutes, his breathing returned to almost normal and he backed away to pull out. He felt something holding his cock in place. Panicking, he pulled back hard trying to extricate himself and was greeted with a sharp searing pain around his cock.

At that moment, she turned her head around to look at him and Brian started to scream. Her smile showcased all her missing teeth and the bare patches where the bone peeked through the decaying skin. The eyes were the worst. Nothing remained but large black pupils fully dilated looking into his soul.

"Was that good for you dear?" his wife asked with a ghastly grin on her face.

Brian awoke covered in a pool of his own cold sweat, screaming at the top of his lungs. He sprung out of bed clinging to the last vestiges of his sanity. His body shook uncontrollably and his teeth chattered. He took his hands and felt all over his body and down to his still hard cock. He was sticky from his all too vivid dream. Everything had been a dream except his own orgasm.

"Holy shit that felt too real," Brian said as he stood up and got a towel to clean himself off with.

It had been six days since his family died and every day was worse than the one before it. Memories of his family haunted his days and his efforts to survive in this new world. Nights were even worse with visits from his wife as she tried to convince him to open the door and let her in to ease his pain. Even his dreams had become nightmares of unspeakable horror.

Perhaps the worst part was the messages on the walls that he awoke to each morning. They became increasingly morbid and sophisticated all at the same time. Brian was becoming nervous that whatever intelligence had taken over the minds of his family was getting craftier. At first, they had been simple warnings. Over time they had morphed to include double meanings and have an almost riddle like quality.

Brian dressed for another day of the same routine. He'd come to realize that repetition was hell. Whether it was Sisyphus rolling a boulder up a hill or living in some twisted version of your former life every day, repetition was hell. His own personal hell was starting to take its toll on his body and mind. The extra ten pounds that had been hanging around his midsection was just a memory. The hangover-induced headache that kept his head pounding was another daily event in itself.

"Tonight will be different," Brian confided in himself as he pulled his pants on. "I'm going to open the door and face my fears head on even if it costs me my life. I can't live like this anymore."

With little care, he opened the door and headed to the bathroom for an aspirin. Having dead bodies sleeping in bedrooms down the hall had become so common that it was of little concern. Standing in the bathroom with the water running, he could hear the wind rattling the windows. It was a stormy day out and one that matched his mood well.

Walking into Matt's room, he noticed his son and wife in bed together as usual. The biggest thing on his mind was which finger had she cut off this time. As she said that second night, the messages would continue every day until he was dead. This morning it was her left thumb missing, the last of the fingers on her left hand which was nothing but a stump.

Both of them had deteriorated every day since they died. Skin was turning yellow and cracking. Their gums receding and bloody, eyes sunken back into their heads. The most obvious sign was their hair falling out in clumps. If it wasn't so sad to see his family in such awful shape it might have been comical the way they looked. As it was, it acted as a chilling reminder of his once promising life.

Shaking his head and walking away, Brian sighed in anticipation of another day of passing the time until nightfall. Josh was sleeping in his crib when Brian entered the room. It looked like he was sleeping and for a minute, he even managed to convince himself. Brian picked him up and held him in his arms. Josh looked different from his mom and brother. Even after six days, the physical changes that had so altered their appearances had just started to affect him.

His skin was still the same pale white color in contrast to the sickly yellow of the other two. His eyes, hair and gums all still intact. Brian held his son, pondering what could be different about Josh that would cause him to resist the changes. He couldn't help thinking that the answer to that question might have some bearing on the overall fate of mankind. Was there something that he and Josh had in common that the other two didn't? Josh hadn't spoken again since the other day, but Brian sat with him every morning for a while hoping he would say something.

After holding him for half an hour this morning, Brian placed him in his crib and strode to the living room to read this morning's message. Written in the biggest letters yet was 'Someone's knocking on the door'. He stopped and stared at the wall not knowing what to make of it. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He stood looking at the wall for a while before walking downstairs where he knew the rest of the message would be on display.

On the basement wall in big bold letters, he saw 'Open the door and let em in'. He paused for a minute knowing that it sounded very familiar. A few seconds later, he was on the floor laughing hysterically. Even though the circumstances of its writing were very odd, the use of popular seventies song lyrics on his walls struck him as hilarious.

"That was pretty funny," Brian joked to himself as he walked back upstairs, mulling over how much more effective the messages were getting.

"At least you guys have a sense of humor," Brian muttered as he re-entered Matt's room, looking at the two of them curled up in the bed. It had been a very stressful few days for Brian. Empty liquor bottles littered the kitchen counters and aspirin containers filled the garbage bin. His head throbbed with a pulsing sensation anytime he was out of either liquor or aspirin.

He felt like a giant antenna with the wires in his skull acting as a receiver. Brian laughed as he thought about that. It was ironic since no other receivers were still working. The day before Brian had gone to the hardware store, found a large generator and filled it with gas from the gas station.

"Maybe, just maybe if I can turn on the TV or go online I can find out about what's happening here and if it's all over the world or just local," he'd said to himself.

When he'd returned home, he hooked the computer up to the generator and tried to open the internet. Nothing happened. After playing with it for over an hour and getting no response from the network, he gave up.

The TV was much the same story. He hooked it up and got nothing but static off the satellite. Even when he hooked it up to the upstairs TV with an aerial, he had no luck. There was no signal in the air. His cell phone also had no service when he tried it. It was as though all the technology of the last twenty years had just stopped working. Even the land telephone lines were no longer working as they had the first day after it happened.

What was it anyway? He knew that people were dead, all of them dead, but what had happened? Brian had always been a smart guy, but he had no idea what could cause such widespread devastation. Why was he still alive?

All this and more ran through Brian's mind constantly. As he sat watching his wife and son lying so peacefully in bed he became agitated, as he so often did. "Why don't you just kill me? There are hundreds of you and only one of me. If you hate me so much, why let me live." Brian stopped himself, realizing he was screaming. "I've got to get out of here. This place is driving me insane. I'm fighting ghosts and my own demons more than anything else."

Brian had an epiphany, like when the apple struck Newton in the head. The reason they didn't kill him is because they couldn't, at least not yet. It seemed like an embryonic process where they had to learn all about the world and how to handle it before they could move forward. Every day he observed his former wife getting smarter and more cunning in her techniques. To Brian it appeared the same as watching his kids growing up and gaining new skills.

"I've got to hurry," Brian muttered under his breath, cutting through the alcohol induced fog and finding a new sense of direction. He grabbed his family and performed his daily ritual of sending them back to the hole in the ground. Dust to dust, he thought to himself not for the first time.

After that chore was complete, Brian headed back off to the hardware store. He needed some last minute supplies and had a very specific list in mind. For the first time in a week, his mind was clear and focused as he cast the buzzing into the background.

* * * *

The rest of the day went according to plan. Nightfall was again upon him before he knew it and his mind churned thinking of the days' preparation. Sounds on the stairs and the usual bath time routine shattered his thoughts.

"Brian, I missed you today. I was such a dirty girl; would you like to clean me off?" She taunted him, laughing.

For the first time in the last week, Brian was prepared to face her. "No sorry I'm not into mud and grass."

"Oh, I see you found your tongue. I'm sure I can put it to good use."

"I'm sure you can. Who are you? I know you're not my wife, she'd never talk that way."

"I am your wife only better. I look like her, sound like her, have all her memories but I fuck much better. Want to find out?"

"I'll pass for now, thanks."

"I know you want me Brian; I can feel it from here. Your heart is racing and you're starting to sweat, telltale signs of arousal."

"How do you know that?" Brian responded, shocked.

"I know a lot of things. We have senses that you humans could only dream of. I can see your thoughts and feel your desires."

"If you know me so well, what am I thinking about right now?" He conjured up an image of the Eiffel tower, his favorite place to see from the honeymoon trip to Paris with his wife.

"I see a fresh baguette topped with Prosciutto, Swiss cheese and mustard."

"Wow, that's impressive," Brian responded, wanting her to believe that she was correct. She had somehow received a scrambled message. They had bought baguettes and made sandwiches as she described in their hotel room that had a direct view of the tower. He wanted to try again and make sure. In his mind, he pictured his father's fifteen-year-old German shepherd, Rex. "So now what am I thinking of?"

"The zoo. You're thinking of a trip to the Toronto Zoo that we went on every year."

"You're good." Brian's heart leaped inside knowing that she couldn't see inside as well as she thought. She must be getting a scrambled signal and using her memories of their time together to fill in the blanks.

"So why don't you open the door and let me in Brian, I can feel how lonely you've been. I can make you forget all about her for tonight."

"What do you want from me?"

"To make you feel good and bring you a happy ending. I want to feel passion the way you humans do it. She has very fond memories of your sex life."

"That's good to hear. You won't try and hurt me?"

"Oh it doesn't hurt. It's a pleasure beyond what you can ever imagine and it goes on forever. Open the door Brian and end your suffering."

His heart was pounding and his hands shook. Taking the steps towards the door was the hardest steps he would ever make. His voice trembled as he said, "Okay, I'll open it. Just a minute."

"You won't regret it Brian."

I hope not, he thought to himself. He looked back at the head of the bed at the preparations he'd made and stretched his hand out to grab the doorknob. It felt bitter cold to the touch and he almost stopped himself, so strong was his fear. He had to do it.

Brian opened the door.

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