The Storekeeper

My empty plate was cleared away and a few minutes later she came back with a mug of tea. 'When you've drunk this nice mug of tea, Michael you'll be able to tell us about the dream you had last night?'

I started to drink the tea not even sure I wanted to tell them anything about the dream. It was so awful, my beautiful wife wearing erotic red undies being bitten by a vampire. From where had my subconscious dredged it up? I felt an intense loathing for the man. I loved Rosie. But putting them together like that in a dream.

Her husband's question stopped my thinking. 'Was it the same hand you held last night, Michael?'

Why did her husband want to know? 'Yes, it was but I don't know whose hand it was,' I added without any reason.

'Perhaps you're afraid to know?' He suggested in a low voice.

'Perhaps I am.' I agreed, wanting to get this interrogation over.

As I stared at her husband a soft hand touched mine for an instant and I looked down at my hands. Francis had laid her wrinkled, bony hands on mine. 'Tell me about your dream, Michael?' She asked without moving her hand from the back of mine. Her hand was rough and bent and cold.

Looking at her hands, then her old wrinkled face and then at her husband I looked into space I told them what I saw. The two bloody marks on her neck after he'd kissed her neck. I suddenly realised her hand was still resting on mine and pulled my hands away and put them both on my lap.

'I'll make you another cup of tea, Michael.' She rose and moved into the kitchen. Now it all sounded even more ridiculous. Her husband sat back in his chair and gave a long sigh. I stayed at the table and the room went quiet. Then I recalled the sight of Rosie in those red undies and there was a tiny stirring of desire.

Francis came back with my mug of tea and one for her husband and herself. She sat opposite me at the table. 'Well, Michael we've got to decide what you want to do when the dream comes back tonight?'

There was excitement in her voice almost as if she was going to join me in the dream. It was my dream and why should it come back tonight anyway?

'They will come back, Michael.' Her husband told me with certainty. 'Now you've seen them they will come back to you.'

Back to me, that's a funny way to put it. 'It's only a dream,' I told him. 'A very realistic dream,' I admitted. 'But it's still only a dream.' I tried to sound convinced but somehow, I wasn't. There'd been something too real about it all. 'Anyway, why would they come back to me?' I asked him after a few minutes of silence.

'Perhaps that's something you should ask the storekeeper.' He suggested.

'Perhaps tonight, Michael you'll find out why the man wanted your wife and why she went with him.' His wife smiled her thin, crooked, wrinkly smile and again laid her hand on mine. For an instant, it felt soft and warm.

I left their house later in the morning after I'd had two big mugs of tea but that didn't stop me from going into the little corner café where the woman already knew me. I went in most days and read the newspapers left by earlier customers.

'A cup of tea, dear.' She told me, putting the hot drink in front of me. I looked up at her. 'Thanks, love,' I replied to a kindred spirit. She was a woman someone had probably loved at some time, now all that had passed and just cooking and cleaning and serving were left to her.

I stayed for my usual sandwich and another cup of tea before moving on to the cinema for the afternoon matinee. Tomorrow I'll visit the library and on Wednesday I'll go to the local museum. Occasionally I wandered past the Sammael Bookshop peering through the filthy windows at all the empty bookshelves and wondering if this really was where Rosy had worked. My routine had been established within the first week of moving into my landlady's room. I knew it couldn't last but for the moment I found it a cosy non-committal existence.

I tried to watch the film, something about a fantasy land with fantasy warriors fighting for the barely clad young woman and the magic stone. Most of the time all I saw was my barely clad wife and the two bloody marks on her neck. When I left I found myself hurrying back to my lodgings where I knew a meal would soon be ready for me and then I could go to my room and wait for sleep and another visit to the storekeeper.

'The cinema was it today, Michael?' Francis asked as she put my meal in front of me.

'Yes, a film about fantasy warriors and a magic stone,' I told her, expecting her to say something about my fantasy dreams, but she didn't, leaving me alone to eat my meal. I stayed with them when the meal was finished and had my usual cup of tea before making my excuse to go to my room. I impatiently lay on my back until I felt the time justified putting the light out. The last thought I had was what should I tell the storekeeper I wanted when he asked me.

The yellow flickering light streamed out of the shop front and the shadows beckoned me toward the open door. A warm soft hand slipped into mine and I started walking toward the door. I tried to turn and see whose hand it was but I was already at the door. I gripped the hand tighter; I wanted to bring the hand into the shop with me. Perhaps then I'd see whose hand it was.

Brilliant red light nearly blinded me and I instinctively put my hands up to my eyes. Instantly I knew I'd lost the hand and even as I turned I knew there'd be no one there beside me or behind me.

'Good evening, Michael you're early tonight.' The storekeeper told me from his position behind the counter. I moved toward him. 'What would you like tonight, Michael?'

I looked around expecting to see my wife and the man but except for the red light, the shop was as empty as last night. 'What is the bastard doing with my wife?' It wasn't exactly how I'd meant to say it but it was what I wanted to know.

The man behind the counter looked at me for several seconds. 'Are you sure you want to know that, Michael?' He eventually asked me.

'Yes,' I confirmed. 'And why did she go with him so easily?' My voice reverberated around the room.

The light in the room flickered and shadows danced on the wall behind him. 'Look carefully, Michael and see what you would like to know.'

I was almost afraid to turn and waited a few more moments while watching the dancing shadows on the wall. When I turned the man in the black and gold cloak was standing in front of two figures in white and gold cloaks. Beside them was a low couch. As he raised his arms and held out his hands from somewhere a figure in a red cloak walked slowly toward him followed by two figures wearing the same cloaks as the figures standing behind him. My wife was now in front of him and she raised her hands to let him take hold of them and draw her the last pace up to him.

She raised her face as he bowed his down until their lips touched. Moments later he stepped a pace back and she looked straight at him.

An enveloping fearful silence filling the room, then the man spoke.

'Woman, do you know why you are here?' 'Yes, My Master.' My wife replied.

'Woman, do you renounce your previous life?' His voice was deep and resonant.

There was no hesitation in Rosie's reply. 'Yes, My Master.'

'Woman, do you surrender yourself for total devotion to my will?'

'Yes, My Master.'

He raised his head and his voice. 'Prepare the woman for submission'

The two figures with her stepped forward and removed the red cloak from her body. I expected to see her red undies again, perhaps that's what I wished but instead, she was totally naked. Then with one on either side of her, they lifted my wife up and carried her naked body onto the couch.

I wanted to go to her, to drag her off the couch; but I was just a watcher, an observer of something I shouldn't be seeing. I probably wasn't even really here.

The man stepped up to the couch and started to caress her naked body. I saw Rosie tremble, then she started to whimper quietly, then she lay still and quiet as his hands slid over her soft flesh until he had caressed every part of her supine body.

He placed a hand on her forehead. 'Is your body ready to surrender itself to me?'

My wife's voice filled the room. 'My body is ready, Master.'

The two figures took hold of her ankles and slowly spread her legs until they were wide apart.

I watched mesmerised as the man and the two figures with him moved to the foot of the couch. They lifted his cloak off him and as they held it they preventing me from seeing Rosie.

For what seemed like ages there was silence then Rosie made the noises I remembered so vividly as she achieved one of her ecstatic orgasms.

I wanted to scream. 'No.' But I knew it was only in my head.

Slowly everything returned to normal and the man in his black and red cloak was standing beside the couch. He lifted her into a sitting position, turned her head and bending over he kissed the side of her neck then slowly laid her down again.

I woke in a sweat with the sheet wrapped around me and half the bed on the floor. I was fully aroused, throbbing with lust for my wife. I'd never before felt lust like it. I'd seen what he'd done to her but I still didn't know what he wanted her for. When I got downstairs only the husband was in the room and until his wife brought my breakfast I told him everything except how I woke up. They looked at each other and I knew she also knew about my dream.

After a tormented morning in the café and an earlier sandwich than usual, I went to the library for the first time with a definite purpose. I wanted to find out about dreams and vampires and the occult.

Chapter 4

The library had a limited selection of books on dreams, one on Cults and Prophets but none on Vampires. I learnt a little about dreams, where they are supposed to come from even how to recall a dream. But none of the examples was as bizarre as my dreams. The books on Cults and Prophets talked quite a lot about David Brant and his sexual control of the Children of God Sect and some of the other cult leaders and their rapacious sexuality with the female cult members. It was interesting reading for an afternoon but little help in explaining what I had been experiencing.

I only got back to my lodgings just before my landlady served my evening meal. 'In the library all afternoon, Michael?' She knew my routine as well as I did so I just nodded. As always, the meal was good, somehow it was just what I wanted, it usually was.

'Looking forward to seeing the storekeeper again, Michael?' Her husband asked me as we sat with our cups of tea.

I felt a bit more in control of the whole thing now I'd read a bit. No harm had come to me so yes, I'd visit the storekeeper again tonight. 'If I have the dream again,' I told him. 'But I would like to know whose hand I'm holding?' I admitted.

'You'll find out soon enough.' He drank some tea.

His answer was puzzling. How would he know?

'What are you going to ask the storekeeper for?' Francis asked me from her seat at the table before I could puzzle about it anymore.

I'd already thought of two things I'd like to know. I turned and told her. 'Where's he taken her, and I still want to know why the man wants her?' A vision of his hands on her naked body filled my mind and I tried again to convince myself he was just taking control of her for some other purpose. Why am I trying to think logically about a dream? The books I'd read had been all about symbolism in dreams, not logic.

That night I entered the shop and approached the storekeeper waiting behind his counter. I was still holding the warm soft hand until it slipped away from me when he spoke. 'Good evening, Michael. What would you like tonight?'

'Where has the man taken my wife?' And before he could answer I asked him what he wanted her for.

The room darkened before the storekeeper answered me. 'You will soon know the answer to your first requests, Michael.' The room behind me grew brighter. 'But with this knowledge beware your actions, Michael.' For a moment his eyes turned black.

I didn't have to be told to turn and I was overlooking a scenic landscape with a very large house on the side of a hill in the distance. I seemed to be moving toward the house or was the house approaching nearer and nearer to me. It was a very large house. Then the light darkened. When the light appeared again it was a dim artificial inside light and I was standing on a plush carpet. Around me were leather armchairs and behind the glass panels with glass doors, as I turned I saw an almost complete circle of glass panels from floor to ceiling. In the centre of the room was a low, narrow couch.

An ordinary door opened to one side of me between two of the glass panels and the man wearing the back and gold robe and two other men dressed in black and gold housecoats came into the room followed by two men wearing white and gold robes. I involuntarily stepped back as I was expecting to be seen; it was all so real. But none of them saw me not even when they turned and looked in my direction.

'My display cabinets, gentlemen.' The man gestured around him and then lights came on behind the glass panels. 'Every cabinet holds a different display, enjoy looking at them, gentlemen then choose which one you would like to have brought to you.' He sat down in one of the armchairs and for the first time, I looked at the cabinet near me.

Inside the cabinet was a young woman, a naked, very beautiful young woman with long tresses of auburn hair. She was lying at a slight angle on a long, gold cushion with red tassels. Her arms were at her side and her legs were slightly parted. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be asleep. Even as I gazed at her I knew my wife would be in one of these cabinets.

'Why can't I see the woman in this cabinet?' I heard one of the men ask.

'That one is my latest arrival, I am still preparing her for service.' The man told him.

I looked at the cabinet the man was standing in front of. The glass was black. I knew my Rosie was in that cabinet.

The scene faded and I was outside the house and it was getting further and further away until it disappeared and night came. When I woke, the early morning light was filtering through the curtains and I just knew it was raining.

My Landlady and her husband were both in the room when I came down for my breakfast. I felt differently about them now, I felt they were part of what was happening to me in my dreams. It was a feeling I'd built up over the last few days, some of the things they'd said and their acceptance of everything I'd told them, almost as though they'd expected my dreams to turn out the way they had.

'I had another dream last night,' I stated as Francis put my breakfast in front of me.

'Oh, Michael. Well eat your breakfast and then you can tell us about it.' She turned to her husband. 'We thought you might have.'

I enjoyed my breakfast this morning. I was going to stay in until the rain stopped so I'd not only have time to tell them about what I'd seen in the dream but I was going to insist they helped me understand it. If that was my wife in that cabinet I was going to get her out of it, and they were going to help me. I wanted her back with me. I still loved her. Now I knew why I'd become so financially and mentally destitute. For some reason, perhaps I'd been made to believe it, I thought there was nothing left to live for because I'd lost the woman I loved and physically adored.

They listened quietly, occasionally drinking their tea as I re-told the events of my dream. I didn't elaborate; the whole thing was elaborate enough already. There was silence when I finished.

'You think your wife is in one of the cabinets?' Her husband asked me.

'Yes, I do.'

'But you only saw into one cabinet?'

'Yes.' I collected my thoughts. 'He told the man the one in the unlit cabinet was his latest arrival, and still being preparing for service.'

'Perhaps that's what he wants her for, to perform some kind of service.'

'You were taken out of the room before you saw anything else, Michael?' His wife questioned me.

'Yes. I didn't see anything else.' I insisted. 'Look, can you help me, I want to get her out of there?' I was making 'there', sound like a real place.

They looked at each other and then nodded. 'You will have to take Francis with you next time, Michael.'

That sounded ridiculous. 'Francis,' I repeated incredulously. 'How do I do that?'

'Don't let go of her hand, Michael.'

Was the warm, soft hand Francis's, I wondered. I was no longer in a position to doubt it. 'Why do I have to take her with me?'

'We need to see the place you go to and how your wife is held there in the glass cabinet.' He looked at Francis. 'I think I know the service your wife is needed for.'

I realised what he was asking. 'You want me to go back and see what the women in the cabinets are used for?'

'Yes, tonight, Michael.' He hesitated. 'Before his hold on her becomes unbreakable.'

That really frightened me.

The rain had stopped and the sky was just breaking when I reached the café. 'You're late today.' The loveless woman with my cup of tea told me.

'Yes, sorry love.' Without thinking I touched her hand. 'Had to wait for the rain to stop.' She swayed away from me and then came back with a discarded newspaper. 'When you're ready I'll make you a nice fresh hot bacon sandwich.' She stood beside me for a moment and as she left I thought she might have liked me to touch her hand again.

The museum was boring, including all the local history stuff I'd studied so intently a little while ago. Even the attendant I'd chatted to on several occasions wasn't there today. By three-thirty, I left and wandered into the town centre. I found the most interesting shop was the one with lady's undies displayed in the window, but none of them was red like I'd seen my wife wearing. I wandered into a teashop and sat staring at the table, then at my cup of tea until it was almost cold.

'Before his hold on her becomes unbreakable.' The husband's frightening words kept spilling back into my mind. 'You'll have to take Francis with you; don't let go of her hand, Michael.' Could the warm, soft hand have been hers?

Francis had cooked me a good dinner and while I enjoyed it they both sat silently nearby. When I'd finished and everything was cleared away Francis brought me my cup of tea and sat opposite me at the table. 'Did you go to the museum today, Michael?'

I told her I had but not for long, I told her I'd walked around the town centre then had a cup of tea in a tea room before coming back for dinner. 'I kept remembering what your husband had said about getting to my wife before his hold on her becomes unbreakable,' I told her.

'Did you also remember what he said about not letting go of my hand?' So, it was her hand. They were resting on the table, red and bent and with their swollen knuckles. I forced myself to reach across the table and place a hand onto her right hand. It was hard and rough and cold.

'That's not as you remember the hand in your dreams, is it Michael?' I looked at her wrinkled face and her thin, crooked mouth and I felt her question in my head just as much as I heard it. As I continued to look at her she reached across and put her other hand on top of mine. It was warm and soft and gentle. Then a warm, soft, gentle hand was holding my hand and I was entering the shop again. I was not going to let go of Francis's hand; it was too precious to me.

'Michael, you've brought a friend with you tonight?' The storekeeper was definitely Francis's husband many years younger. 'Yes,' I told him. 'And I want to take her to the same place I went to last time,' I told him.

'And so you shall, Michael though you may not like what you will see,' he replied, as the room grew darker. Then the light brightened and the big house was in the distance on the side of the hill and I knew I was still holding Francis's warm, soft hand. The house came closer, larger until it was filling my vision. I gripped the hand tighter and I was in the room with the glass cabinets.