Like Mother Like Son Ch. 05

"Let me choose when," she answered finally, conceding to his will.

"Fine."

She studied him for a moment, frowning. She took another sip from her cup before rising from her chair. Her grandfather gave her a surprisingly respectful nod.

"Thank you for having me."

"Of course," he said.

Something shifted in his eyes, something that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She knew what it was, but she wanted nothing more than to be blind to it. It was a look she was all too familiar with from her own childhood, and it made her sick to her stomach.

She wanted to close the door to that house behind her and never come back, but she knew that she wasn't capable. He was right about one thing: she always came back. Always.

It was night when Gabriel woke. He rubbed at his eyes, blinking tiredly, and contemplating whether or not it was even worth getting up. His mind instantly conjured up images of his mother at his desk, and with a jolt, he sat up, wide-eyed. No, she wasn't there. He let out a low laugh and pushed his sheet back. His bladder was protesting from the abundance of sugary drinks he'd had earlier, so in spite of his laziness, he moved toward the door, stretching. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something. He frowned, taking a few steps closer. A key. He stood there staring at it for a moment, registering in the back of his mind that his mother had taken the one to his door with her. This one was different, larger and gold, and very worn. He picked it up, then out of curiosity, and a need to prove it to himself, walked to the door and attempted to use it, only to discover the key would not go fully into the lock. So it was a different key. He looked at his room with a critical eye, trying to discern if anything was out of place otherwise. He could find nothing. There was no note, no explanation as to why the key was there. She had to have put it there. Who else would leave him a key?

He could only think of a few places that were locked in the house, and given the size of the key it probably wasn't for the safe or glass cabinets, or anything like that. His gut told him it was a key to the basement, but that seemed incredibly far-fetched. She had run to her husband last night, not to him. She certainly hadn't treated him much differently than she ever had, and there had been no indication that she wished to share any of her private life with him. He twirled the key in his fingers, knowing that he had no choice in the matter. He wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing. After finishing his business, he made his way to the basement. It was 11pm, and Izzy and his father had already gone to bed. His mother could have been home as well, which troubled him, but not enough for him to reconsider. If she gave it to him, she would expect him to use it. There was also the chance she was still gone anyway, which would make everything all the easier.

Walking down the steps gave him the chills. He felt like he was doing something criminal, which only seemed to fuel his desire to finally get behind the door that had been closed to him since he was a small child. He knew that even his father had never been inside, and the fact that she'd shown favoritism to him in such a way, was somewhat gratifying. She was sharing with him and no one else. That is...if the key fit. He fumbled for a moment, trying to get the key into its place. It was dark down the stairs, shadowed, even with the light from the floor above. He had to feel with his fingers to find the slot, then getting the damn key to go where he wanted was a trial in and of itself. The lock was worn and didn't seem to want to work, and momentarily he panicked, concluding in the back of his mind that it was all a sick joke. He jiggled the key in desperation, yanking on the doorknob so it clicked irritably. Finally, he could hear everything fall into place, and he was able to force the door open.

The first thing he noticed was that it was too dark to see. He moved a few paces forward, searching through the dark, but unable to make much of anything out. When he took another step, he tripped, having to grab the wall for support as he realized that there were several more steps down. There must be a light, he thought, feeling around. He wanted to go get a flashlight, but his mind was in a whirl, and he couldn't bear to not know what was waiting for him at the bottom, even if it meant facing the unknown, inky blackness. As he slowly edged his way down, his hand found a panel on the wall, then eventually a switch. A single bulb above him flickered to life, its light pale and sickly, but enough to illuminate the staircase and cast frightening shadows on the walls that were almost worse than the impenetrable black.

It smelled damp and earthy, and the air was considerably cooler. There were a lot more stairs that he had ever pictured, and he realized that the basement was much more underground than he had ever suspected. When he finally made his way off the last step, he came into a dark room, with hulking, scary shapes that could be nothing more than furniture. Somehow the whole place put him on edge, maybe because it was forbidden. His heart was thrumming painfully in his chest, as he expectantly tried to make things out. Again, he gracelessly searched the walls for another switch, his eyes adjusting somewhat to the dark, though not much. When he found it, the room instantly became cast in an eerie red glow. The lightbulbs, he realized, were red. He squinted at the room, making out the black walls covered in shimmering objects. Daggers, he thought. He moved forward cautiously, his pulse rising, as though anticipating a threat. What if it was a mistake? He thought ridiculously. What if he wasn't supposed to be down here?

There was a very large TV toward the right of the room, with a stereo and everything else. The PS3 she had confiscated a year ago was also there, along with all the games. There were new ones as well, he noticed. He should have been angry, but somehow he found it amusing. In a case next to the TV stand, was a porn collection to make anyone blush. The cabinet was over six feet tall and at least three feet wide, with videos stashed in tiny jewel cases. He grabbed from places on different rows, just to be sure it was all pornography. Somehow he found it kind of endearing, and he briefly wondered how she would feel about letting him borrow a couple of movies. As if that would ever happen, he thought wryly.

There was a tattered Nazi flag on the wall, stark against its black backdrop, accompanying some large, intricate looking axes above a door that probably led to the bathroom. There were two other doors, he noted, which he would get to. A desktop computer was set up in the corner opposite the television, with a large leather couch positioned somewhat in the middle of the room. It was worn, but looked comfortable, and was a deep ebony like most everything in the room. The space seemed smaller and claustrophobic because of the dark paint, and it gave the illusion of everything being hidden from view. There was a lamp by the computer, and it was tall and bent, with a shade made of red glass. When he switched it on, it too had a red bulb, and brought the cutouts that were pasted onto the walls into focus.

He moved closer, reaching out to touch the precisely-cut magazine centerfolds and small photos. One of them was a woman with her legs spread open, her fingers pulling at the lips of her most private of parts, holding it so that it was gaping wide for all to see. She was wearing tall patent boots that came up to her knees, and her face was frozen in a look of invitation. Some were men, but mostly they were women, each one posed in some act of debauchery. Nearly the entire wall by the computer was covered in them, some numerous that it was hard to separate one image from the others. There were even pictures of bestiality, which although they made him grimace, were difficult to look away from.

Gabriel couldn't help but move along the wall, looking at all it had to offer. He had inadvertently made his way to a bookcase, its shelves lined with unmarked tomes. He pulled one down, rubbing at the sleek leather spine that was smooth under his fingertips. He flipped it open, enjoying the 'crack' sound that accompanied an old book. The pages were handwritten, some smeared as though his mother had been in too much of a hurry to allow them to dry. From what he could tell, it was another story, one that had a title on the first page that he didn't recognize. Unpublished books? His eyes automatically scanned the rows, until he realized there were a few books that were different from the others. He frowned, trying to make out the title on the spine of one particularly heavy tome in the low light. He brought the volume close to his face, letting out an audible laugh. Really? Juliette? He grabbed another, not completely surprised by the German copy of Mein Kampf, though he wondered if she was even capable of reading the language. There were a couple more philosophy books that he recognized and a fictional book on some German WWI pilot he had never heard of, but he decided not to dwell.

He remembered that his mother could be back soon or could wake up, and the thought of getting caught in her basement was enough to make him return the books hastily to their spots. He wanted to know what was behind the doors; he needed to know, and he didn't have much time. He walked to the nearest one with trepidation, fingers pausing on the door handle momentarily before he wrenched it open. A bathroom. How anticlimactic. It was small, but had the traditional amenities, including a clawfooted tub that was overwhelming in the small space. Everything was dark, but somehow still remained tasteful. The entire basement reminded him of some kind of live-in dungeon, with its black walls and medieval weapons. It was somewhat cliché, and he found himself a little disappointed.

He went to the next door, not expecting much. When he opened it, he was somewhat taken aback, finding the smell of incense to be accosting in the small, closet-like space. There was just enough light from the living room to throw shadows against the wall and catch on the myriad of objects that were neatly arranged on the table and walls. But most troubling was what was hanging on the wall, perfectly centered like a tribute. It was a large skull with horns thick and tapered enough that they could likely rend organs from one's body. It was preserved forever in a half-decayed form, visceral and terrifying, like an acid had burned through fur and flesh, leaving behind the wet, bloody innards of muscle and tendon and bone. The sockets were nothing more than gaping black holes, somehow more horrific in the fact that there were no eyes to see from them. There was no telling what lay behind the darkness, and that thought made him shudder. He had never seen anything so monstrous. In fact, just being in the room made his head pound and his heart race. He felt wrong and unwanted in the space, enough so that the small room felt suffocating, yet somehow he couldn't bring himself to look away.

It was as though he had torn back the veil to find his mother's deep, dark secret, rotting and evil at its core. He found it sickening, frightening, even. At the same time, it was astoundingly fascinating in its otherworldliness. It was beautiful. He didn't even want to begin deciding what any of it meant. There were a couple things he could think of, none of them good, which somehow made his excitement grow.

The altar---the only term he could think to describe it---was covered in beautifully crafted candelabras, all holding half-melted black candles with wax frozen in elegant drips down their sides. There was a rich tapestry protecting the tabletop, a deep red that was embroidered with symbols he didn't recognize. There was something else he could smell but could not identify, along with the acrid scent of smoke and something long since burnt. He noticed the chalice, which appeared to be the source of the smoky aroma. He picked it up somewhat hesitantly, the coolness of the silver feeling like fire on his heated skin. It was filled with bits of paper, their edges curled and brown. He grabbed at them, only to have them disintegrate in his fingertips. He rubbed at the ash that coated his hands, then put the chalice back, giving the wall hanging an inquiring stare. There was only one white candle in the bunch, placed to the right, seemingly strategically, though the meaning was lost on him.

"What are you doing down here?"

Her voice startled him badly enough that he bumped into the table, the tinkering sound of the metal being jostled making him wince.

"Jesus, you---"

"It's not polite to go through people's things," she commented, looking sinister in the red light that silhouetted her.

"The key," he said, struggling not to tumble his words, "you left it for me." When her expression didn't change, a panic started to rise in his chest. A clammy, cold sweat was starting at the back of his neck. Could it all be some terrible mistake? Was he not supposed to have it? What would she----

"What did you expect to find?" his mother questioned, coming nearer so that he was wedged between the altar table and her lean form.

"Something dark," Gabriel answered truthfully, unnerved by their sudden closeness to one another. His eyes were having trouble seeing things in perspective with the strange red glow and his mother's body blocking the tiny entrance, making his end of the room cast in shadow. He didn't want to look back at the hanging on the wall because he knew that in the dull, unnatural light it would be even more menacing, a wet, living monster made of tortured internal tissues with gaping holes for eyes.

Gabriel shook his head, unsure of how to proceed. He could maneuver his way passed her, but she was quick and he didn't doubt she would catch him on the stairs. He had also never attempted to physically overpower her before, at least not seriously. He was unsure as to what she was capable of, though he knew he was taller and weighed more than her. He damned his curiosity and whatever tricks she was playing on him. He didn't know if he would ever be able to play her game with any proper sense of direction. He felt as though he was in the wrong, yet she had left the key in his room! Hadn't she?

Without any warning, she backed out of the room, and slammed the door shut, locking her son inside. Instantly, Gabriel was cloaked in darkness. The smell of incense burned his lungs as he stepped forward toward the door blindly, fingers grasping at air until he came into contact with its rough surface. He tried not to think about the thing on the wall. If he thought about it, he knew he would be reduced to nothing more than a scared child. He didn't know why it creeped him out so much, but the intense fear he felt just looking at it, was enough for him to be cautious of the thing. He wouldn't think about it...

"Mother," he said, yanking on the doorknob to no avail. "Mom," he implored weakly, hating himself for being so stupid, and hating her for being such a mean bitch and putting him in a situation he couldn't be in control of. He pounded on the door a couple of times with his fist, finding the slight pain to be a welcome distraction. He beat the door harder, his anger lighting up instantly.

"Open the goddamn door!" he shouted at her, trying not to let his body take in the shallow breaths it wanted, and instead trying to calm himself by breathing deeply. "You fucking bitch, open the door!"

Gabriel yelled at her until his voice went hoarse, and threw his body against the door until his side ached. He managed to keep from panicking, but he was beyond angry at her, yet again. He didn't understand how one person could so easily pull him through so many emotions. Again he tried not to think about what was on the wall, or the weird smell he was starting to detect, hidden under the heady scent of the jasmine or whatever it was that was making it hard to breathe properly.

He finally slumped to the floor, leaning his body into the door and letting his forehead rest against the coolness of its metal. It was five minutes after that that the locks on the door were worked, and he was finally let out. He scrambled to his feet, all too eager to be away from the tiny, claustrophobic room. He rounded on her seconds later.

"What was that for?" he asked her venomously, scarcely keeping his tone out of the realm of a snarl.

"For being presumptuous and going into my rooms without my permission." She was smiling at him, looking decidedly amused. "And for being afraid of the dark."

"You know what? Fuck you. I'm out of here," he growled, no longer able to contain his hatred. He wanted to be anywhere she wasn't. Just as he stormed by her, she snatched one of his wrists, her eyes even more of an enigma than usual. Light seemed to flicker in them like it was alive, and she seemed to be evaluating him, taking him in. She licked her lips.

"Leaving so soon?" He tried to pull away from her, but her grip was iron-like. His face twisted in fury and hatred and his blue eyes narrowed.

"Am I just a toy to you?" he asked, a hint of incredulity to his voice. "You think I'm just going to bend to your will and do what you want? You locked me in a damn closet! With that..." he searched for a word but could find nothing sufficient, "thing! What are you doing in here, performing some kind of whacked out black mass?" His gaze was accusing, but her expression lost none of its amusement.

"You've always wanted to know what was down here, didn't you?"

"That doesn't give you the right to lock me up! God, who the hell taught you logic?" Again, he twisted in her grip, ashamed that he found the bite of her nails in his skin to be appealing at such a moment. "Let go of me!" He knew he could have wrenched his arm free if he had truly put the effort into it, yet something held him back. The sick part of him the reveled in the attention, was awakening. Even in his anger, he couldn't deny the appeal of her, looking so pleased with herself, so arrogant and cruel and horrible all at the same time.

"There's a bedroom down here," she commented offhandedly, finally relinquishing his wrist.

"Is that supposed to entice me?" he responded darkly, too bitter to believe she would ever do anything besides lead him on. He wanted to leave. He wanted to have the willpower to walk away from her without being plagued by regret, but he knew it was an impossible wish. He was rooted to the spot, even as the anger continued to twist and wind its way around his heart, settling in with the other strange emotions that lingered there. He wanted to be invited, he wanted to be the one she felt she could show things to, regardless of how seriously fucked up they might be. He knew he was seeing things that even his father had never gotten the opportunity to witness. Her secret world was at his feet, and the temptation of it was killing him.

She ended up making the decision for him. When her hands found the button on his jeans, he knew there would be no turning back. It was like opening a floodgate, and when all the water came crashing down around, there was nothing to staunch the tidal wave of resentment, hate, and desire that had been stifled for a large part of his life. He wanted to hit her, he wanted to kiss her, and he wanted to scream at her for being such a sorry excuse for a mother and letting him feel so wrong. He had convinced himself that it was all her fault, and something from the beginning had not set like it should have, becoming a sloppy rendition that was easily torn down and cast aside. There should have been barriers, but the second skin met skin, everything melted away, meaningless.

Her nails were scraping all the way down to his stomach, down through the sparse, dark hair that led in a lazy trail to his groin. Gabriel grabbed at her waist, struggling to get his hands beneath her fitted shirt as she blindly backed him into the door. She seemed to lose sight of her goal for a moment, as a wayward hand managed a light grope over the thin, lacy fabric of her bra. She slammed him into the door, as if to remind him of who was in charge, but he could only grin at her as he dragged her shirt over her head in a confused tangle. Then the door jerked open and they both stumbled inside, Gabriel momentarily disoriented by the sudden encompassing black. Then a pale, yellow light flicked on, causing him to blink rapidly.