Sera Ch. 35

Steven

I'd decided to keep Long Management alive. After reviewing their performance, it was clear that they knew their stuff and had done a good job in keeping the family fortune together over the decades through the use of some very safe and wisely chosen long term investments, and the right decisions regarding the few lucrative business interests the family still owned. Their part would from then on be a supportive role, as it would have been impossible to handle everything myself. The structure and complexity of business had changed considerably since Rebecca and her mother were able to run things themselves, and that type of management model was simply no longer realistic in today's world.

Though Ashleigh did have some business acumen, even she wouldn't have been enough help and, besides that, her interests were much more centered on Sera, the family's personal issues and her ongoing investigation of our history. Apart from sometimes acting in an advisory capacity with regards to which of our politicians were good for what, she left business to me.

Besides, despite my raw talent and Sera's added intuitions, I wasn't kidding myself where my lack of actual experience in running a business was concerned, especially one like what I'd inherited. In addition to serving in their supportive role, I knew what a valuable resource Long Management's experience would be in teaching me all the realities that I'd have to know and could never otherwise learn on my own. The business courses I'd begun through distance education (University would've been way too risky for Sera) would teach me a lot that my high school courses didn't cover, but nothing, not even university degrees can take the place of the real world training and experience that Long management had to offer me.

Something else that Long Management had to offer was Alyssa Raitt. This very talented, very attractive, thirty-two year old brunette had been recruited by them five years before, and was the perfect assistant and advisor while the reigns of the family business were being slowly passed to me. She came with an auburn haired secretary that looked as good as she did and, of course, they'd both been properly influenced by Ashleigh back on the first day of their employment because that's just the way of things.

Mum had quite naturally fallen into the duties of running the house with Sheila as her assistant. After learning quite a bit about how to use Sera from Ashleigh, she converted the entire staff to her control, made the policy changes that suited her, and even opened her own office a few doors down from mine, carefully ensuring that it was bigger and more nicely appointed than Ashleigh's. From there, she handled not only the house staff, but every jot and tittle from food deliveries and uniform replacements to cleaning schedules and daily menus. She liked it, probably the control and the opportunity to once again mother a house being the big reason she did but, most importantly, it kept her and Sheila busy.

Kitten, my cousin and beautiful wife, spent a lot of her time in the old cinderblock garage while I worked. She'd finished revamping it with new lighting, plumbing, insulation and heat, along with a septic system that necessitated the total upheaval of not one, but two of Ashleigh's prize flowerbeds, and had a small office of her own there in the side tower. As Mum had taken over the house, she'd taken over the maintenance and landscaping of the entire estate, ordering a new, larger supply warehouse and equipment shed built close to the service gate behind her office with an additional security wall around that to control access of outside delivery personnel. She could often be found directing the groundskeepers, running some piece of heavy equipment, or actually digging with a shovel right alongside her labourers, usually topless. In fact, it wasn't uncommon to see her happily working at some menial chore or other, wearing absolutely nothing but her leather tool belt and a pair of steel toe hikers. God, how I love my funny little Kittenface. No matter how many women I get to use, none of them can, or ever will compare to her.

Sometimes I like to take a break and visit her, assuming she isn't way in back of the huge property we occupy, cutting new paths with the little dozer. Preferably, she'll be in her private shop, working in her office, or at her hobby, that of slowly restoring our Great Grammie Samantha's old Dodge Wayfarer. On these occasions, I'll sometimes fuck her senseless, sometimes just sit and talk. We get along great and I couldn't imagine life without her.

As for Sera, the reality of her presence has been accepted by all of us, even taken for granted as time started to pass. Without each other, she would have always been that thing that controlled us, threatening to destroy our lives and making any kind of life impossible but, together, she was no more than what we were.

This said, I often consider her lack of control over herself, the way the evolution of what she is and has been in each of us has always been so governed by our Human portion of the equation and how necessary that's been for Sera.

Yet, what if Marie Roy hadn't been Schizophrenic? Or, what if Seraphine had the opportunity to grow up in a controlled environment like our other ancestors had? Of course, that would have been impossible but, hypothetically, what values could have been impressed upon her? What if she'd had a Human soul to live with like all of her predecessors had? Would she have seen how wrong it would have been to run her adoptive parents the way she obviously had? Would it only have become necessary anyway in order to protect herself from them once they realized just how different and potentially dangerous she was? And perhaps the biggest question of all: What the devil had ever happened to her?

You see, while one of Sera's gifts was perception of others, and while Ashleigh and Kitten certainly had that in spades, I only had a smattering of it. What I had instead was more of an inner perception, an intuition if you will, and possibly the real identity of that other me I often spoke to, since not all we of Sera talk to ourselves. And this intuition, this gut instinct, as one might call it, often wonders about Seraphine, the last great mystery of what we are since Ashleigh had shared with us her knowledge of the abilities Sera provided with age.

Seraphine was the last shadow in my mind where Sera was concerned, the last dark corner of the unknown where some terror, real or imagined, might hide. I never really spoke of it to the others because I didn't want to upset them, or make them think that I'd in some way reverted to my old lack of acceptance of what I am, but it was an issue that would sometimes surface in my mind. And every time it did, whether it was on a bright sunny day by the pool while my mother enjoyed my cock in her mouth, a quiet moment in my office, or the dead of night while I lay awake in bed beside my Kittenface, it always came with a subtle, insubstantial and nerve tingling fear.

Was Seraphine that greater sense of awareness over the family that Kitten and I could feel when we bonded? Was she Sera herself? A literal part of each one of us that directed our actions from a different plane of existence in a subconscious manner that none of us could suspect, slowly forming some ultimate plan of hers by the use of our bodies and lives? And exactly who, or what was it that Coby and Marie would often whisper to in the basement? As homicidally insane as they were, did they harbour some knowledge that the rest of us didn't have? When Grammie Marie told me that she knew things, could teach me things that Mum couldn't, did she simply mean that Mum was too young to have the abilities she'd had, or did Marie know things that we don't?

As many questions as had been answered by my arrival at the estate, there were still more within me, and most every one of them were as dark, worrisome and even frightening as some of the answers that I'd already had to accept.

Kitten

"Fourteen people..." I breathed, shaking my head and seeing Auntie Kathleen in a whole new light.

"Yep," he quietly affirmed, idly inspecting his beer can.

I could only stare at him. If I didn't know better, I'd have insisted he was lying and nothing would have convinced me otherwise, but it just isn't like that between my Stevie and I.

We were in our apartment, a larger one that Auntie Ashleigh had set up for the two of us as a couple before we ever even arrived at the estate. Stanley and Mr. Sparkles were play wrestling in the elaborate, carpeted cathouse that I'd built for them. Stevie and I had just finished 'play wrestling', and were lounging in each other's arms on our big, plush couch. Because of our bonding, I knew that there were things he was keeping from me and, being a woman, I just couldn't let that go.

So, after a little bugging on my part, he related the full story of what all had happened to him in Saint John. He'd mentioned parts of this story before, things about his pastor friend, Audrey Chapel, our grammie Marie and the disastrous mistakes he'd made that people had paid dearly for, but this was a much, much more detailed account, a shocking tale of fear, abuse and murder during his search for an explanation to what was happening to he and his mummy. It began with the changes he started seeing in her upon their arrival and ended with her revelations to him in the motel room where they'd received their invitations to the estate.

Auntie Ashleigh had told me some time prior that he'd been through some stuff, but I had no idea how intense his experiences were until he'd really opened up about it that evening. If I had, I'd have understood right away why he was the way he was when we'd first met, so quiet, brooding and dark. I'd have understood why he treated me the way he did and why he was often such a depressing downer, if not an outright jerk.

"Even your own daddy..." I amazed, unable to suppress a shudder. "I mean, how can you just... handle that?"

He took a few moments before answering with, "I don't know. I just did. Mum was all I had, so I had little choice and, at the time, I was really kinda numbed to it. I mean, I was too shocked by the enormity of it to even think about dealing. Then we got here and a bunch of other issues started popping up and, as hard as it is to believe, that detail of my new reality just started to fade into the background of an ever increasingly bizarre reality. But, I also think that Sera within me makes the fact that my mother is a multiple murderer easier to accept at face value. She sees it as less important in the face of maintaining family- her family that is- maintaining family cohesion. You know. I mean, I'm still shocked by it, but it's like... like the emotional effect is dampened by Sera. It's only there when I really look at it. Know what I mean?"

"I guess," I replied, looking at him with no small amount of wonderment. "But I don't know how I ever would have coped with that. Does Auntie Ashleigh know about this?"

"Yup. I told her very soon after Mum and I got here. I didn't like betraying Mum's confidence like that, but Ashleigh had her own little agenda, and I had to make sure she understood mine. That conversation didn't go very well for me but, of course, she was right. Her agenda was the agenda for all of us, and I see that now. Mum is a lot better off here, especially now that she has Sheila again. She's changed, and I can see it. She's happy, settled and secure enough that she won't need to be killing people. Mind you, she still bears watching; she still needs to be, uhhh... regulated, but that's Sheila's job now."

"Does Mummy know?"

"No idea," he replied with a shrug. "I didn't tell her, but Mum or Ashleigh might have. I doubt Sheila would care anyway. My mother is your mother's whole world, and vice versa. They never should have been apart and, who knows, if they hadn't been, Mum may never have killed anyone."

"She may not have had you, either," I pointed out. "And my mummy might not have had me."

"That's a good point," he admitted, "but it's at one hell of a cost that we live."

"I'm not complaining," I said, "but I still can't- I mean, fourteen people!" How could she just... kill fourteen people?"

"Well, the first one was personal. If you asked her about it, she'd laugh while recounting how she squashed him against a brick wall with a tow truck. I imagine my father and his lover was personal, but she didn't show any feelings over it when she more or less told me, probably wouldn't have told me at all if I hadn't asked her. As for the others, like Merle Cunningham, I get the impression that they were just obstacles to be removed. Like moving a cat out of your way before you sit down."

"Do you think that was Sera?" I asked.

"You mean her sociopathic ease of just permanently removing people from her way?"

"Yeah."

"Yes," he replied without hesitation. "You know as well as I do that Sera isn't Human, and she doesn't have the same regard for people as we do. For example, neither of us have any bad feelings about the Kutchers. If they were nicer people, we might, but... we made them forget and, to Sera, that's good enough for them even though we know that what we did to them was wrong and it doesn't matter that they were assholes. But it's not just other people, either."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, as an example... Mum almost drowned me in the pool a little while after we got here."

"What!?" I gasped, sure I must have heard him wrong, or that it was some sort of accident.

"You might say she was disciplining me," he explained with a humourless laugh. "Tricked me into a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold, led me to the pool and pushed me in. She didn't really want to drown me, otherwise she actually would have, but..."

"What?"

" ... She considered it. At the very end, just before she pulled me up out of the water, she considered just leaving me to drown."

"No!" I exclaimed, totally horrified that my Auntie Kathleen would do such a thing to my Stevie, her own son, and unable to imagine any reason why. Again, were it not for the unique understanding my Stevie and I have, I wouldn't even have believed him.

"I could see it in her eyes," he told me in a sober voice, taking a gulp of beer and adding, "I was looking up from underwater and I could see her looking down at me, thinking about it with this... blank expression that I really wish I could forget. I never will, though."

I was at a total loss for words, finally managing, "But... Why!?"

"Because Mum doesn't take betrayal very well. My dad could tell you that if he were still around. I count myself lucky."

"But, why?" I repeated. "Why would she-? What could you have done to deserve something like that!? Her own son!?"

" ... Well... promise me you won't feel bad when I tell you this, because it's not your fault and there's just no way in hell you ever could have known what she was really like, but... remember when you told Mum about me and Sheila hanging out?"

" ... Oh... Oh my god, Stevie..." I offered in a small voice, actually starting to cry a little and feeling absolutely horrible.

"I told you not to feel bad," he said with a little smile while he wiped at my tears with the back of his pinkie finger. "You didn't know what she was and, even if you hadn't told her, she would have found out sooner or later by some other means anyway, and I even knew that at the time. There was no way you could have expected her to do any more than scream my face off, maybe slap me around a little. That's the kind of thing she usually did, although I knew it would probably be worse once she did find out. Just not that much worse," he finished with another laugh that lacked any humour whatsoever.

But his comments sparked a memory, one from the first day I'd met him and, as much as I hated to ask, being pretty sure I knew the answer already, I had to.

"Um, sweetie pie... when I first met you, the first day we were here and in the Library... your face was all black and blue..."

"Yeah," he replied, took another gulp of beer and went on with, "That was another little lesson from Mum. She did that after I got Audrey Chapel killed."

"Jesus, baby... How did you...?

He shook his head, carefully wiped away more of the tears I was shedding for the stuff he'd gone through and said, "I had that coming. I could have stopped her, but I let her do it because I deserved it. It was the least I deserved for what happened to Audrey. And Marci."

I shook my head, turning my face away for a moment because I couldn't bear to look at him after being responsible for his mummy doing such a thing as almost drowning him, no matter how he excused me from responsibility. And to think he accepted a beating because he felt responsible for what happened to his Pastor friend and Grammie Marie's caregiver... I wished I could tell these things to Daddy, to tell him what kind of a man my Stevie really was.

"Look," he said, turning my face back to his, "I told you not to feel bad. You couldn't have known the things I knew when you first got here, and there was no way I could have just told you at the time. And please don't think any differently of Mum for this stuff, either. She really does love you like her own daughter. In fact, in her mind, you kind of are her daughter and she'd never, ever do anything to hurt you."

"No, not unless I betray her," I pouted, feeling anger on Stevie's behalf rising to take a seat beside my guilt and admiration for him. "And let's just hope you don't do something to make her feel betrayed by you again, otherwise, god only knows what she might-"

"I took care of that," he interrupted with a firm tone. "Yeah, that was another one of Ashleigh's frustrating lessons but, after the pool incident, I think I probably would have taken her in hand anyway. As you can imagine, I was pretty fucked up and freaked out by that."

"Well, yeah I can imagine! But what do you mean when you say you took her in hand?"

"I mean... when I saw her next, I beat her around, raped her and made it hurt. I showed her. Ya know?"

I shook my head, still not sure of what he meant, as I did know how Auntie Kathleen sometimes likes it rough.

"I sort of dominated her in that respect. Slapped the shit out of her. Showed her where her place was and then put her into it. She expected it in a way. Kind of the same way I'm subtly dominating Ashleigh, but different. Mind you, she's still my mother and stuff, but she no longer sees me as her boy. She'd never do anything like that again, and she'd certainly never harm a hair on your head."

"How can you be so sure?" I pouted.

"Kittenface... if she ever hurts you, I'll kill her. I mean that and, even though I've never told her that, she knows it. But, she'd never hurt you anyway because... she just wouldn't, any more than she'd ever hurt Sheila. Believe me."

I could only stare at him, wondering if there was more stuff that he wasn't telling me, but not wanting to ask for fear of his possible answer.

After a long pause, I quietly commented, "Sera really does make us different. Doesn't she?"

"Oh, yeah. None of us are immune, either."

"You are."

"No. I'm not. I'm just as dangerous and, in some ways, quite uncaring about it."

" ... Do you mean what you did to those people at that underground club in Saint John that night?"

" ... Not specifically, but yeah, I guess that's a good example."

"I remember you said that you enjoyed beating them up."

"Yes," he replied, "and I'm almost certain that I turned one of them into a quadriplegic. And my lack of remorse has nothing to do with the kind of people they were; Marci and I were on their turf and showing all the signs of the willing until I... until Sera took over and I did what all I did. Still, I don't feel bad about that because the influence of Sera within me just doesn't give a fuck about them and, at the time, it felt good to blow off some steam. I feel bad about what happened to Marci, but only because I got to know her, and I considered her a friend, but even those feelings pale in comparison to how I feel about the family and how far I'd go to protect every one of you and Sera."