2 The Stranger on the Road

He slowly raised the volume of his mp3 player and slunk his headphones over his head. Then he raised the volume even higher, as his previous set didn't drown the loud voices of his parents. He was listening to a Bon Jovi soundtrack, a favorite of his father's; he was too curious, and too perturbed for any distraction to take his mind. He could hear them, arguing. Out of frustration he removed his headphones and threw his devices on the bed. He got up and slowly dipped his feet on the floor. He could hear the distraught voices of his parents; the sound knotting his gut within. He gulped and tiptoed towards the wall, then he pressed his ear against it to listen. His dearest mother was sobbing as his father tried to comfort her. His brows furrowed as he tries to focus with all intent to discern the muffled sound his father voiced from behind the wall. His father was saying something about having regretted that he and his team probed too deep into something. An experiment, most likely. They delved too greedily, and he heard his father saying how he regretted the decisions he and his team had made. What decisions? His mind asked impatiently. He listened for more; his father was saying there was a thin line in physics that separated the perceived and the unknown. A veil that, with the right probing and scientific skills, could be parted as easily.

His face contorted at the confusion he was experiencing, his mind trying to grasp any meaning from each word his father was trying to explain to his mom. It was five days earlier that he noticed his dad in an unusual manner - sulking and worried. He seemed restless and always on guard; and his happy and free-spirited demeanor gone, in place of brooding and spending too much time in his office. Since then, it was hard for him to focus on anything, struggling to divert his mind from his parents to the demands of school and exams. He would observe his mother looking towards the horizon, aloof and pensive. Then when he would come to her she would wipe her eyes and tried her hardest to smile in front of him. But her eyes betrayed what she felt in her heart, and in effect she would answer "nothing." when he asked. The experiment, or whatever it was, became successful. And something went through. his father said. And that everyone was after him, because he was exposed and he was the key. Exposed to what? What key? The questions lurked in his mind again. He inhaled deeply as he heard his father expressed his regret. His father said that he had to go away. Sudden panic and shock alerted him, and he instinctively raised his head; irritated at why he immediately pressed the side of his head back at the wall. His mother was sobbing harder now; he could hear soft thuds as she raised her sniffling voice. She was punching Dad on the chest, he thought. There were nothing but sobs for a moment, and it felt like an eternity hearing the hurt in his mother's voice. What was the cause? Why? His thoughts echoed, demanding answer for every question that sprang in his head. His father spoke again, this time in a softer tone; he was trying to make his mother understand. And she just continued to listen, whimpering the whole time. Suddenly everything was quiet and he could hear his father clearly, in his normal demeanor, brimming with positivity voice. It was a tone he hadn't heard for five days; and that brought comfort to his heart, thinking that they were probably just arguing and everything would be as it was. And he would ask him tomorrow if they could play or stroll around the town before sunset, or go by the lake, where he would drink soda and eat his hotdog while his father sipped on his beer and eat his burger. Then they would go home and she would greet them with a very warm smile and a steaming set of lovely dinner. His treasure days, as he called them; as the setting sun was wrapping everything in an orange shade before the day finished.

But his mother sobbed again; this time she was the one talking, and his dad listening. She cursed his job, questioning his decision to become a scientist. For the government of Angel City. Too secretive with their agendas. Now they have to run away to be safe, but his father will not be with them. He was brought from his thoughts at the sound of his mother concluding their argument with this. Then he heard footsteps. Soft ones. Then a door latching open. He immediately tip toed as fast as he could and jumped back towards the bed and draped his blanket all over his head and body. Then his door creaked, and the streak of light from outside lined the darkness in his room. Finally, he heard his father sigh behind him and closed the door.

Sigmund never knew why his father had left them. He always wondered why, and his mother never got angry when the conversation turned to the mysterious disappearance of his father, but drastic changes had been brought on with his absence; changes that affected him even now. The man left his mother pregnant with the twins, boy and girl. The struggle with the pregnancy while working had brought on great distress to his beloved mother. It also did not escape his notice that after a week since his father left, his mother would spread salt and boiled garlic around their new house daily, as though warding off something unnatural. He understood this to be because she was pregnant, but the twins had grown old enough to not attract such superstitions; yet his mother continued to spread salt around their small property, never skipping a day. She gave him an amulet after his father left, and every day she reminded him of it, and to never take it off, even when bathing. His mother often told him with a hint of sincerity, and didn't shy away from an apparent fear in her eyes. So part with it, he did not.

Now, at twenty six, Sigmund worked tirelessly and restlessly in construction to provide immediate sustenance for his mother and the twins... Only one year left in high school, and his father had gone mysteriously, without a note or hint as to where he could be. One day, they were so close, but presently, he only had hatred towards the man.

III

After his shift ended, he moved himself to the barracks and removed his sweaty work clothes, hung his safety helmet and reflector vest, threw aside his dirty gloves, and changed his sweaty boots. Years in construction made his body sinewy and hard. He started early at his teenage years, and grew to manhood while toiling in it; now he stood at five feet and ten inches tall, far from the boy he once was. He wiped the sweat from his muscles and splashed his neck with water; the beads ran down the curves of his back. He washed his face up to his jet black, crew cut hair, dried himself, and put on his fresher garments. As he exited himself from the site, he looked above at the night sky. Sigmund couldn't help thinking that something was not right. Something had been tugging on his mind since the early morning when he came to work. A feeling he hadn't felt in the past. He questioned himself as to why he felt like so. He turned to look at the construction site behind him, trying to remember if he had forgotten something at work; a task, or tools, that could put any of his crew mates in danger. But as he pondered, he realized that what he was feeling had nothing to do with his job. A gut feeling where something was trying to tell him about something; a warning, or advice. In the end, he dismissed what he felt and concluded that probably, it was just the stress and exhaustion causing an imbalance inside him.

He was walking a fair distance when he noticed that everything was too silent. He started to hear the steady and low sound that only total silence could produce; not a car was passing by, and the trees were oddly still. He paused and narrowed his eyes at a closer tree; no rustling of the leaves at all. It reminded him of peace in a quiet evening, however this silence only made him more uneasy. His mind also alerted him to something else, his amulet. Surprised, he moved his hand to feel it upon his chest hoping it was there, but it was not. He suddenly felt the weight of its absence upon his chest as he panicked without knowing why, and realized how such a small thing could leave such a huge space. He felt like a slob of a hairless animal, suddenly exposed as his protective shell was lifted away. His palm began to sweat while feeling the void on his chest where the amulet once laid, as if a mantle of invisibility and defense was pulled away to reveal him. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was sweating despite the cold he was feeling. He trotted on. Suddenly, the street lamps along his way struggled to keep their light. He was walking fast when his feet halted him. His eyes noticed someone tall across the road, a stranger; dark and vague at the distance. The street lights buzzed as they fought increasingly in keeping their light; flickering the surroundings in short bursts of darkness before illuminating the road again.

It appeared as though being caught; its posture in an almost running away manner, its body crouched towards its left, its unusually long arms hanging from its sides. Sigmund noticed its right hand seemed to be clutching something that continuously dripped, but the dimming lights failed to show the details. Sigmund tried to see the strange being, but the distance gave a vague image, and the street lights dimmed coincidentally. He hoped against all hope that whoever it was had not seen him yet before he could manage to run away, for his heart pounded a warning inside his chest. But heights of hope drained swiftly from him as the head that housed the glowing eyes began to turn slowly towards his presence.

Sigmund's spirit flew away and left his body frozen in place. His breath stopped when he finally looked from its face and up to its head, where he saw awfully long horns sitting atop of it. The right one was cut, he noticed, before it could curve like the left. Sigmund's vision began to blur just as his eyes were beginning to see most of the stranger's vague visage. The street lights were flickering intermittently now, as though they were panicking themselves. Sigmund could hear himself gasp for breath as his fear rose when his vision began to decline. Then it did something that took Sigmund's fears to a whole new level. It took a step forward and leaned in towards him, then it closed its eyes. Sigmund could hear the sound of air being siphoned as the stranger raises its head slowly; its long body following as it straightened up. The sound stopped and was followed by a grunt.

It was smelling him. Vigorously.

Sigmund's mind screamed as he started to register the possibility that whoever this was is not human. He wanted to run, but he was stunned. Its very presence emanated a danger that Sigmund felt as every part of him became so weak and exposed. His mind raced where he could start running to, yet it felt that there was no way, nor any hiding spot that could ever provide safety or protection. The impending danger froze him, as though time itself stopped in that moment of shock and horror.

His throbbing and hard erection woke him to consciousness in the dark of his room. Samuel Jargen squeezed his eyes to his temple and breathed deeply; he hoped that it was already morning as he grabbed his phone to check the time. It was 2: 25 am.

"All the time, all the fucking time." he sighed and got up in a sitting position.

He got up from his bed, dragged himself to the toilet, and pissed till his dick flattened like a deflated balloon strip. He didn't notice that short ache just before he releases his urine, nor the blood that flowed with it every time he urinated; He does wonder why his piss is so yellow… Probably because of those juices he drank, he surmised. He moved aside the curtains of the window atop the cubicle and looked at the moon. He raised his middle finger to it and said "fuck you, you bitch." He laid himself on the bed and put his index and middle finger to his nose and chuckled while sniffing it. "Ummm, Rebecca." he thought.

He savored the memories of the young girl he ravished in his car when he picked her up five hours ago as a Cab driver. He relished every second of it, from the moment he saw her soft thighs as she entered the car through the back seat. He recalled everything easily; his heart was pumping wildly in his chest as if bursting with lust, and his mind rattled him to excitement at the possibilities that the moment could possibly provide. His grip around the steering wheel tightened. He breathed in deeply to muster the raging emotions within him so he could pick this up effectively. He looked at her through the rear view mirror and inspected every bit of her that the limited darkness his car could allow. She had beautifully tanned skin, like golden brown and honeyed almonds, long black hair that flowed straightly from her face and highlighted the curves of her breasts; and she was wearing a black blazer that seemed to have a hard time containing her perfectly shaped mugs. He imagined he would channel all his blood to his hands and squeeze and suck the hell out of those jugglers if he ever got his hands onto them, he thought. His eyes lusted after her hips, and the pencil skirt she was wearing was making him salivate inside his mouth, for she was sitting in a crossed legged position that made her tiny skirt move upward, revealing her smooth and lusty legs. Those high heels she was wearing reminded him of that cherry on top that whip cream had when he saw the commercial.

He began to shift in his seat because of all the discomfort this blazing bitch was causing. He wondered how young she was, and he was amazed that kids this generation had, while so young, already boasted such bodies most women would die in the gym for. He was so caught up on his sex trip that he forgot she was staring at him while he was checking her out. And clearly, as he was aware most of all, that teenage kids like these were always down for something different and exciting, she looked no different. Their morals were set aside for the heights of experience only curiosity could provide them. Every beautiful woman also reminded him of his wife. And how he loathed her.

After almost an hour of rotating his car around the city while seducing the young girl, she got up from her seat and moved towards the front. She inserted herself towards the front area, feet first, then her legs. Her skirt, now struggling to contain her, only moved upward revealing her meaty thighs; then when a slip of her panties showed, his heart skipped a beat, and it showed in his face. She saw it and giggled; he forced a smile, then drove the car to the site where he took every girl just like her. Few knew of the place; even the homeless and beggars never knew of it, only him.

VII Samuel moved the car to the curve of the building and stopped. He grabbed the girl by the neck and kissed her lips lustfully as if in a daze. He licked her neck, and the scent of her skin made him harder like never before. Thank god for women, his thoughts were loud. He cupped her breasts with his right and squeezed her ass tightly with his left, she rose her head and moaned deeply then went back to kissing. A few moments later they were naked, though she still had her panties on. Samuel moved from her only with difficulty and got out of the car naked while moving around her. He opened her door and bent her over, and hissed at the sight of her big apple; then she slid her panties down, a tattoo of the playboy bunny on her right cheek. Steam emanated from her area, and she was sopping wet.

"Enter me."

she said softly as she looked at him from her shoulders, her cheeks blushing while her eyes were hazy with lust. Waves of heat blasted from his core and he closed his eyes and basked in the moment, then he entered her slowly and easily. The anticipation from her soft and moist soil was obvious. It was longing to be plowed. She moaned again and dropped her head on her arms, she was dominated completely. While Samuel rammed her furiously, each thrust more powerful than the last, she moaned and moaned and came again and again and again. Every time he rammed her, her rising pleasure angered him bit by bit; squeezing her hips and biting his lip, his mind felt that it would explode in the waves of ravenous cravings coursing through his hard shaft as he penetrated her with all his reach. He exploded inside of her and she moaned louder than they had begun. The lust draining from both of them ebbed away into nothingness, and they left the building tainted, as it always stood. He took her home in the end and asked her name, to which she gave with the compliment of her number.

"Another mark for my tally." He smirked

as he pulled out a cigarette from his jacket and smoked a joint; after a few sips he threw the cigar butt away and tied his messy brown hair into a ponytail and drove home. He ejaculated to these fresh memories and came; he wiped his essences from his hand and closed his eyes to beckon sleep. When his mind returned to being clear and pure, his last thoughts were the face of his son, grinning before fading away into oblivion.

VIII

If viewed from a neighbor's perspective, Maleva's day to day life seemed like that of a normal struggling mother - preparing the twins for school, doing house chores after they left, budgeting her eldest son's salary, and cooking supper just before they arrived from a busy day. Just a normal single parent with normal single parent struggles. And that's how exactly Maleva wanted it to look. Normal. No one knew of the battles that took place inside her, pressing her from both fronts; that of her ailing heart and the protection of her family from something not yet forgotten. She'd been doing good so far, she believed, because if not they would have been dead already. For her, each dawn that rose meant another day has been survived, and for each sunset was yet another fight to wait out. The salt had been spread the morning prior, the amulet laced around his son's neck; all should be good. It never goes away, that fear she feels when she sees the sun setting on the horizon. It brought her great sadness when she gazed at some of their neighbors; their eyes squinting with laughter, husbands never left, and children all the more wonderful; grandparents visiting and spending a few days with the family, living modest and normal lives; oblivious that a neighbor of theirs long for the same, but are living in isolation just for the purpose to see another day. There are no grandparents to visit and kiss the foreheads of her children, no father she could lean onto when times were pressed, no mother to gain advice from in raising tiny children; and no husband to raise her eldest son, and warm her during cold nights. Her heart sank heavily with envy as she wiped the tears from her cheek while moving away from such envious sight, the laughter trailing as she moved inside.

She was wearing a worn brown leather jacket, unbuttoned, and a faded blue duster underneath. She tied her slightly gray hair into a bun and slipped onto her house slippers. She brewed tea and seated herself to face the front door, as she always was while waiting for her son; the windows at both the walls sides were closed, the fireplace was alive and warm, and their dog Max, a German shepherd, lying beside the rocking chair. The door to the twins, she left open so she could watch over them while they slept. She was sipping her tea when she was alerted by movements just outside the house's walls, rustling on the ground caused by footsteps. Her sleepy eyes began to gather focus as she cocked her head to try to follow the sound, it was moving around the house in a fast pace. Her calm demeanor was evaporated by a surge of panic, her thoughts distracted by the mysterious activity. The footsteps continued to move around, fast and impatient.

She noticed the movement stopped at the window of the twins' room. She feared immediately for her children and got up from her seat, but paused, suddenly thinking for a moment that maybe it was just Max. But she saw him in the same position; under the rocking chair across her.

"You did not hear that, Max?" she asked,

sounding bewildered that Max didn't even lift his head. The fireplace's light illuminated the dog's eyes; they were still and unblinking. Maleva lowered her cup, her hands shaking trying to prevent it from making a sound as she placed it on the table. She started walking slowly towards her children's room; such an effort for weak and trembling knees, she discovered, especially out of nervousness. She began with one step, sole first. She was so silent that if so, she would stop her heart for a moment to silence its drumming sound. She hurried on, moving past the slumbering children and came face just before the wooden window, which, to her horror, was closed but not locked. Terrified, she hurriedly tried to lock it with shaking hands, and just after she let go of the latch's handle, something banged the window with such force it threatened to bulge open inward. She shrieked while flailing both her hands in front of her, and before the windows opened, she heard a loud, unnatural grunt just behind the two inch thick wooden windows; the only thing that is keeping whatever it was from trying to get in.

"Mother!"

her son shook her by the shoulders.

Maleva looked startled and panting. "Oh Sigmund!"

"You were screaming Ma, you're having a nightmare! I was worried as to why you didn't let me in; I was knocking and calling you. Didn't you hear Max barking?" he asked with outstretched hands.

Max was beside him, looking at them trying to understand the situation, wagging his tail. He slumped back underneath the rocking chair and laid his head on the floor, eyes still on his family.

"Why are you so late? I was worried; you had not texted me in advance of your delay."

He started towards the dining table and laid the things he carried. "I had to pass by the store. I was quite surprised that there were many people buying from there that late of night. I bought you this; you must drink it three times a day mum, it's good for your-"

"Where is your amulet?" she said, alarmed at seeing his son's neck empty of its lace. Sigmund became wary of the sudden turn of his mother's tone.

"I forgot to wear it this morning; something also happened to me this night, I can't understand it really". His words slowing as he gauged his mother's worrisome response.

"Why did you forget?!" she exclaimed. "Oh Sigmund, did I not tell you not to remove it from yourself, to never remove it from your neck?"

She stood up from her seat and started towards the dining area behind her, pacing with panic, her left hand clasping her mouth, her right on her waist. Sigmund looked worried. What did he do wrong to cause offense? He asked himself, his mouth struggling to form words of response.

"Why? I just forgot to wear it this day, it's just this day, Mother; no need to be so crude about it!" irritation slipping in his tune.

He wore it his whole life, a day without it seems to cause no trouble, he surmised. Maleva stabbed the air with the side of her hand.

"No, you do not understand! I didn't lack to tell you about how important that thing was! Where is it?" she threw her hands in frustration and gasped. "Oh damn boy, go find it and wear it now, don't just stand there!" her eyes flared as she points her son away.

Sigmund moved away then turned to face her. "I would if you'd just tell me! I'm the one who has to work every day in construction just for us to get by; I think I'm old enough to know more! I'm an adult for heaven's sake, Ma; and I'm clueless towards all this!" he said as he flicked his hand, his voice threatening to wake his siblings.

Maleva was shocked of his son's reprisal, her eyes widened with anger. She walked towards him and slapped him on the cheek. "You forget your manners! You know nothing of what I had to do to protect this family, the sacrifices I have to make-"

"Your sacrifice? What about mine?!" he shot back at her. Maleva turned around, closed her eyes and sighed deeply, her hand feeling her chest. "What about my life, Ma?" Sigmund said out loud. "What, you said that as if I asked you to give birth to me?! I forsook the things I wanna' do with my life to take over his responsibilities! You're no different than that man you call a shit of a husband! He left, and that's okay with you?! What about me? Did you ever think about if it was ok for me? Did you? Did it cross your mind about things I want, about the things I want to do?"

Guilt weighed down on his heart when he saw the hurt in his mother's face, but it had to be done. He needed to say what had been burdening in his chest for a long time. He needed to be selfish, just a bit, just this one time. Maleva fell silent tears trickling down her sunken cheeks, sinking herself on the chair. She could not even answer.

Sigmund smirked. "You don't, you didn't even care. Because of his cowardice, my life is ruined." He said bitterly. He continued. "Others my age have flown and soared to different things, yet here I am, grounded and never left."

He turned his back as tears began to well the corners of his eyes. "I deserve to know; whenever I start to speak and ask about him, you always fall silent and change the subject. What is really going on?" he asked over his back.

"Yes, I have not told you enough." she opened her eyes, welled with tears, yet she cannot look at Sigmund; her hands pressing against her chest, her heart hurting like a mild bruise. "And I think I will soon, with the things you naively started. And when you know, my son, I hope it would be enough for you to forgive me if you think we robbed you of your life."

Her lips shook as she spoke the last words, and renewed tears flow down her cheeks, realizing the hurt she caused her son all these years, yet, only just then he had spoken his frustrations out loud. He was just a boy. If only she could only reverse time and give her son all the good things he deserved...

Sigmund sighed, calm now. "You spoke 'we' as if he's still here. You loved him too much yet he betrayed you, betrayed me. When will you ever learn?" He said, slightly shaking his head. "Drink the tea, mother." He said before walking away from her.

He moved to his room and laid on the bed. He grabbed the amulet lying beside him on the table and slipped it around his neck.

"All that for a stone." he muttered.

He looked up the ceiling for a moment, closed his eyes, and beckoned sleep. Mysteriously forgetting the thing he saw on the road.

Maleva woke to the sound of her doorknob being turned repeatedly; she almost asked who could it be but decided not to, she felt sure it was not any of her children. She got up and grabbed the jar of salt lying on her bedside table. She opened the cap, grabbed a handful and spread it in a thick line just below the door, then she backed away. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands tightly in and prayed, forgetting the jar of salt as it hit the floor and made a breaking sound. Maleva began to recite the verses of the prayer through trembling lips, after she recited a few words, a deep and ancient voice from behind the door began to mockingly recite the same verses faster, as if trying to catch up to her to join her in prayer. Maleva gripped her hands tightly in prayer and tried to focus and ignore the mocking voice outside her door, yet the voice only sends shivers down her back and her ailing heart began to beat faster and faster; and before she could continue, the voice was already reciting ahead of her in advance, cutting her from praying. Her trembling lips made her stutter, and when she was about to start praying the verses again, the voice began to chant the exact words in her mind right before she could even voice them. Fear overwhelmed her and she let go of her clasped hands, and pressed both her palms against her ears and screamed; she could hear clearly the maniacal laughter, as it began banging on her door.

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