Lesser Gods Ch. 01-05

This is a book I have previously written but not published. It starts with some mildly erotic components, but it will be a slow build. If you are looking for a quick fix, this isn't it. If you want a novella with erotic overtones, I hope you enjoy my story. The entire book will be uploaded within a day or two.

One

Her trepidation increased as the feeling of being watched intensified. She searched the deep shadows all around her. "I know you're there!" she said with as much defiance as she could muster. "You've been watching me all week. Show yourself!"

"I prefer not to be seen," came the reply in a deep, gentle voice from the direction of the darkened fireplace.

"Why?" she demanded, "and why are you holding me here." Her voice quavered only slightly.

"No one is holding you here, Zoe" he answered from near the heavily curtained window. "I have seen you out walking. You have never been limited in any way."

How did he move so silently? The dark house, which had been merely spooky before, was becoming downright sinister.

"Sure," she came back sarcastically, "I can walk anywhere I like, except there's nowhere to go! I've walked miles in every direction and never seen another soul, another building, or even many roads. The garage is locked, so I don't have a car, and there's nothing I can reach on foot."

There was no reply.

"Your servants won't say a word to me, or maybe they can't," she continued. "And you! You hide from me and don't even speak to me until now. What am I doing here anyway?" Her voice cracked as her anger gave way to fear.

"You are here as a companion, exactly as you were hired. The contract you signed clearly stated that the location would be remote and outside contact rare," the voice explained patiently, as if speaking to a child.

Anger winning out again, she replied, "Don't patronize me! I know what I signed. I haven't been "companion" to anyone thus far, so why am I really here?"

"As my companion," the voice answered as if that was obvious.

"YOUR companion! I thought I would be working for an elderly person, not some freak who won't even show himself! What kind of pervert are you?" she responded, voice rising with each word.

The only answer was the soft click of a door being closed.

Journal Entry 10/18

The new power signature has disappeared. They must have taken her already, which means they were watching, they knew she would manifest! I must find her before she is firmly ensconced with him. She is valuable and must not go to the other side! I am prepared to use all of my resources to find her and keep her from him, even if the only way to do that is to kill her.

Two

It had been two days since the conversation in the library, and eight days since the limo had dropped her in the driveway of this massive estate. She felt watched whenever she was out of her rooms, but no further contact between her and her employer had occurred. After "the Talk," as she had come to refer to it in her mind, she had resolved to spend all of her time in her rooms. That had only lasted until dinner the first day, because the servants refused to bring her any food to her rooms. While they would bring her anything she requested while in the dining room or library, she did not have access to the kitchen herself, so she was becoming quite hungry. She considered sitting down to dinner in the dining room until she was served, then taking the food to her rooms herself, but that seemed childish the longer she considered it, so she relented and went to the dining room and ate as if she didn't feel watched.

The food was superb, as always. She didn't know whether one of the two servants she had seen was also the chef, or if there were other staff members who remained unseen. It was weird that the servants would fulfill nearly any request she made of them, except to speak to her. They used gestures to communicate any directions, such as leading her to her rooms, requesting her dirty laundry, or seeing if she wanted anything, but they never spoke. Were there still mutes in the world today?

The second day after "the Talk" she walked around shouting at the walls, challenging her watcher. "Talk to me!" and later, "What are you afraid of?" and later still, "Are you hideously deformed? Is that why you won't show yourself?" but nothing happened.

She also began searching the rooms and hallways for cameras or peepholes, but found none. She noticed a few places that seemed like there was space between rooms that was not accounted for, but she could find no hidden doorways or openings of any sort.

After dinner she went to the library, but instead of turning on the TV as she had been doing to alleviate her feelings of isolation, she picked up a book and sat down to read. There were no ceiling lights in any of the rooms, and other than a small desk lamp here in the library, and a similar one beside her bed, the only lighting was from small nightlights in the halls and bathrooms, and candles in the dining room. As it was autumn, the sun had already set, so the only light was at the desk where she sat in the large leather chair and became absorbed in her book. She was unaware of the passage of time, and so was thoroughly startled when the deep voice suddenly asked, "Is it good?"

She jerked up to see the dim outline of a very large man leaning against a far wall deep in shadow. She convinced herself it was the lighting that made him seem so large, and answered, "Ye-yes, it's quite good." She paused, trying to settle her heart rate back down, and continued lamely, 'I didn't hear you come in."

Somehow she was having trouble separating her own strange predicament from the plot of the story she had been reading. He wasn't saying anything, so she tried again with one of her burning questions, "Why do you hide in the shadows?"

"I am not well received by most people," was his simple response.

She decided to move on to another line of questioning, "Then why am I here? You say, as your companion, but I never see you, and this is only the second time we've spoken."

"I find you a perfectly adequate companion," he answered, adding with a hint of humor, "when you aren't yelling at me."

"Hmph! Adequate! I am far more than adequate when I have someone to be companionable with," she contested.

"And there you go again, yelling at me."

Silence followed for several moments. Finally she answered with irritation, "I'm not saying I'm sorry. This is all too strange. Who are you anyway?"

"You may call me Grey."

"Gray, like the color? What is your full name, and why do you live like this?' she asked, still irritated.

"Grey as in Greyson. I have many names, but that is the one I have been accustomed to being called recently. I live like this because I am not well received by people," he said again.

"What does that mean, 'not well received'?" she asked in frustration, "and why would that make you live alone in the middle of nowhere?"

"I don't live alone. I have servants, and you of course."

"You know what I mean. You have to realize this is all very strange: The house in the middle of nowhere, the silent servants, hiring a companion who you watch but don't interact with..." she trailed off, again struck by how secluded it was, and by how very large he appeared there in the shadows.

"Yes, I suppose it seems strange to you, but my life is not one that can be easily judged by ordinary human standards. You are being paid more than fairly to stay here for six months and basically be at your leisure. I don't understand why you are so angry," he said with the first hint of irritation.

She remained quiet for a few moments. He was right about the pay. It was a big reason why she had accepted this assignment without paying much attention to details like who exactly her employer was, or what exactly "companion" entailed. That thought put her in the mind to make a few things clear. "As long as you realize that I'm a companion, not a prostitute! There will be no physical intimacy here! If that is understood, then I apologize, you are right."

"I would never consider imposing upon you in any way you were not comfortable with. I simply need someone to talk to sometimes, someone who can come to understand my situation. You are perfectly safe here, I assure you," he finished formally.

"Why do you talk like you are from a different century or something?" She hesitated a moment, then continued, "Well, I guess I'm from a different century too, the 20th, but you know what I mean," she said with a touch of humor.

"Hmmm. I will try not to sound so old if you will try not to sound so angry," he offered.

"I am sorry. I just wasn't expecting any of this. I promise to be more companionable," she giggled at her own little joke.

"Deal," he said as he stepped from the room.

Three

Journal of a lesser god

She is here and safe, but she is full of fear. I can't blame her, the situation is strange, to say the least. There is really no easy way for this to go. She will be hurt, no matter what, and if I've judged her correctly, she will fight it. I hope we are able to ease her transition better than we did with others. It would be tragic to see her got to the other side.

Zoe awoke panting and covered in sweat. She reached for the light beside the bed and flipped it on. She hugged a pillow and willed her heart to calm. It was another of the nightmares she had started having a few weeks before she took this job. When she awoke she never remembered much, only that someone very large and very strong was chasing her. She had started to worry that they were some kind of premonition of what was going to happen to her here in this deserted place, but while Grey was undoubtedly very strange, and probably very large, he seemed harmless so far. That didn't help the sheer terror she felt each time these nightmares woke her. She had also been having other strange dreams, though not as frightening. In the other dreams, people came to her to ask for direction. Not directions like to the mini-mart, but direction, like choosing a life path, a career, a spouse. She had never been one to tell people how to live their lives. That would be laughable from someone like her who had messed up her own life seven ways to Sunday and she wasn't quite 25 yet. But the dreams persisted.

She knew from experience that she would not fall back to sleep any time soon, so she rose from the bed, slipping on her robe and slippers, and walked to the hall. Without even thinking about it she found herself back in the library where she turned on the TV. After flipping the channels for a few minutes, she turned it back off and picked up the book she had been reading earlier. She tried to get back into the story that had so engrossed her earlier, but it didn't hold her interest now. She went to the shelves, but in the darkness she couldn't make out most of the titles. One book attracted her with a gilt embossed title on rich leather binding. Its title was Journal of a Lesser God. She took it back to the desk and opened it to the title page where the name was repeated, but no author was listed, nor a publisher. The next page contained a genealogy. She paged back and forth again, and looked closely at the binding to see if a page was missing, but there was no copyright page. She turned her attention to the genealogy. It looked to be a list of the Greek gods, or was it Roman, she never remembered which was which. It was beautifully detailed in five colors and a delicate script. As she proceeded down the list she noticed that the names became unfamiliar and also that only a few listed dates of death. She went back to the top and paid more attention to the dates. The first two rows contained the most familiar names, but no dates of birth or death. Starting with the third row, which included Hercules, birth dates were listed with most of the names, and a few deaths, including Hercules in the year 5077. That was crazy, because it was only 2011 now. Then again, that would have been before the Holy Roman Empire, and she had no idea what kind of calendar was used then. The other dates were also strange, and some of the people, or gods she supposed, had lived hundreds, even thousands of years. If the ones with no date of death were still alive, some of them would be over 12,000 years old!

She shook her head. Obviously it was very late and she was very tired to even be thinking about this book as if it was real. It was mythology, so gods could live forever. She turned the page and found the genealogy continued for 6 pages and the dates changed to the current calendar system. The last few rows did not contain names at all, but just initials, and the dates of birth were in the 1900's. There was even one with her birthday. The initials were A.A. Well that eliminated her, Zoe Michelle Beeker.

The next page began the narrative, but as she began to skim the first line, she heard the door open, and for the first time was aware of Grey entering the room.

"Hello, Zoe. I did not expect you to be here at this hour," he said, not sounding the least bit surprised.

"I had a nightmare and couldn't sleep," she answered, only afterwards stopping to wonder why she mentioned the nightmare.

"What kind of nightmare? The type where you go out in public in your undergarments, or the scary monster type," he asked with interest.

"Neither," she said, meaning to leave it at that, but then she felt a wave of something akin to feeling tipsy, and continued, "I was being chased by someone powerful. I've had the same dream about 10 times now."

"Really? Do you ever see the face of the person chasing you?" he asked, coming a little closer to the light.

He was very large, and apparently well built. She could see he wore a dressing gown that showed him broad across the shoulders and narrow in the hips. He must be at least 6-6! He had never come so close, and while she still could not see his face, she could catch a glint from his eyes and she felt the hair on her arms stand up and her heart begin to race.

Abruptly he stepped back against the door. She felt a slowing of her heart and a warmth that seemed to wrap around her like a blanket, even causing a touch of claustrophobia as if she were completely wrapped in a physical blanket. The feeling faded and she tried to remember what he had asked her.

"I'm sorry, what did you ask me?"

"I wondered if you ever saw who was chasing you. In the dream that is. Is it someone you know, or a stranger?" he asked, remaining as far from her as the room would allow.

"I never see his face, but I can feel his size and power, and I somehow know he is evil," she answered.

"Do you have other repeating dreams?" He asked, pausing, then adding, "I fancy myself a bit of an amateur psychologist. I have an interest in dreams especially."

"I do have other repeating dreams, but they are so silly, I wouldn't want to talk about them," she replied.

"Yes, well, if you ever change your mind, I would love to hear about your dreams. For now it is late, and you should probably return to bed," he said, becoming formal again.

"I never can sleep after one of those nightmares, at least not for hours. I was just looking at this book. It's got an interesting genealogy at the beginning and I was just about to start reading the first chapter."

The words barely left her mouth before she yawned and felt an overwhelming need to lie down. Grey sidled away from the door as he said, "I think you are more tired than you give yourself credit for. Perhaps you should return to your room while you are still able."

In complete agreement she rose from the desk and headed to the door where she turned to see him lift the book she had been reading from the desk. "Good night," she said, yawning again.

"Goodnight Zoe." He replied, quickly snapping off the light just as her eyes rose to look at his face.

Journal entry 10/19

Nothing! I'm surrounded by incompetents! They haven't located the girl or the Fist, and my patience is spent. I am sure she is with him, now. If only she could see how much stronger she would be with me.

Four

She awoke to light streaming in her window and a vague feeling of having slept too long or too deeply. There was a snippet of a dream that she could just remember, where deep, gorgeous blue eyes gazed at her as a silken voice commanded her to relax. Very odd. But then, everything was very odd since she took this job.

She stretched and got up to go to her bathroom and shower. When she picked up her watch, she was amazed to see it was after 10. How in the world had she slept so late? She always got up with the sun, had ever since she was a child. Things just kept getting odder.

Her day otherwise continued much as every other day had since arriving. She was served a light breakfast by the silent male servant, and when she returned to her room she found the female servant vacuuming, so she grabbed a jacket and headed outside. She decided to investigate the barn.

The large door swung open easily and silently, and she was greeted with the smell of fresh hay. There was no sound of animals, but she decided to look around anyway. She walked past six stalls, three per side, when she heard a noise ahead. Quietly she moved forward to what appeared to be the tack room. There were no windows, and the only light came from a gooseneck lamp focused down on the work of a man sitting at a bench facing away from her. This must be Grey, for he was tall and broad shouldered as the figure the previous night. Was that only a few hours ago? It seemed like so much longer.

She remained still, studying what she could of the man so focused on the work before him. He had dark hair, just a little too long, and with a slight wave to it. His shoulders were indeed broad and well muscled under the shirt pulled taught across them. His upper arms were nearly as big as her thighs, and while his hands were proportionate to his size, they seemed delicate and nimble working the leather piece he appeared to be fixing.

Suddenly she sneezed and the man at the workbench jumped and turned slightly toward her before catching himself and turning back away. She felt a thrill go through her and her skin raise up in goose bumps when he began to turn toward her. She quickly said, "excuse me."

"Have you been spying on me long?" he asked without rancor.

"No! I mean, I just walked up a moment before I sneezed. I didn't mean to spy. I just thought you were working on a harness or something and I didn't want to disturb you," she quickly made an excuse.

"Do you ride?" he asked, out of the blue.

"Do I what? Oh. You mean horses. No, I always wanted to take lessons as a child, but there was never money for it, or for much else as far as that goes," she replied.

"Too bad. I get great satisfaction from riding. I will have to hire an instructor for you. The horses are to arrive tomorrow from where they were stabled while I was away. Perhaps a member of the staff from the boarding stable could come and stay for a few days to teach you enough that you could also enjoy them."

"Oh, thank you, but that isn't necessary. I like looking at horses, but I'm a bit scared of them up close," she admitted.

"That definitely will not do. A riding instructor it is then. If I can't get someone from the stables, I will get one of my employees from elsewhere that is competent with the animals to teach you the basics. Horses are noble beasts that are both powerful and useful. It will not do for you to be afraid of them," he stated, not leaving room for disagreement.

"Thank you," she said again, being unable to think of any other reply. Some time passed, during which Grey continued to work on the harness and Zoe became progressively more uncomfortable. Zoe knew herself well enough to know that when she got uncomfortable, socially, she tended to say things that weren't well thought out. Still, she found herself stammering, "I'm glad to finally see you, to see that you are a real person, if exceptionally large. Oh! I don't mean that the way it sounded. I just mean that the way you hung in the shadows had my imagination working over-time, and I thought all kinds of crazy things. I can't imagine why you feel people don't want to see you. Because from what I can see, all the women I know would be happy to look at you." She blushed at her own running on of the mouth, but it was said and couldn't be unsaid. She thought she saw a hint of pink creep up Grey's neck as well.