The Spook House (The Spook Series Book 1) (14 page)

This action was supposed to be flirty but actually had the opposite effect on me. I saw it for what it was – an act. Satan was not a giggly girl.

She stopped in the middle of stripping when she saw it didn’t get the reaction she expected. She looked insulted.

“OK,” she sighed, “What’s it going to take?”

I just stared at her. Then she said, “Look. I’m sorry. I know you’re freaked out. Who wouldn’t be? But I’m being straight with you. I don’t have any agenda with you. Not anymore. You’re off the board. God’s moved on to his next play.”

A vision of Greek gods playing chess with human-shaped pieces entered my mind. Ashira, apparently talking to herself now, continued, “Of course, now that His plans for you didn’t work out, He’ll be up to something else. It’s not your problem anymore.”

I didn’t like thinking that the Devil had won a “round” with God because I refused to murder somebody. I wanted to make sure she knew that.

“You know,” I said, “I made my choice because it was right for me. You didn’t win me over or anything like that. Also, God didn’t lose. It’s not like I’m on your side now.”

“I know,” Ashira said, looking momentarily disgusted. “I don’t know how you could still be loyal to God after how He almost used you like that, as a sacrifice! But I’m used to it. He has a loyal fan club. It never seizes to amaze me. I mean, people get screwed by God all of the time. Earthquakes, hurricanes, tsunamis, floods, not to mention disease. Look at how many people suffer because of those. But you think that would shake their faith? No! That usually makes their faith stronger! They start praying to the same God who almost destroyed them!”

The lights reflected in Ashira’s eyes seemed to flare up and she appeared to be getting taller. Then she stopped, sighed, and everything returned to normal.

“Whatever,” she said dismissively. “Let’s just get to the point. You want sex. So do I. That’s why you mortals all so horny all of time. You have a biological need to reproduce. So you see, ‘lust’ isn’t a sin. Sex is what you’re supposed to want.”

“What about ‘Thou shalt not covert’ or ‘commit adultery’ and all that crap?” I said.

Ashira snorted with a mixture of distain and amusement.

“I laughed when that ended up in the Bible. I pointed out all of those laws to God and said, ‘So you’re going to let them misquote you like that? You’re going to let them put words in your mouth?’

“All He said was, ‘If it keeps them from fighting amongst themselves, fine.’

‘But using your name and the fear of your wrath as the enforcement for their laws?’

‘They’re the ones who have to live together,’ He said. ‘It’s up to them how they work it out.’

“So that was it. Long story short, there’s a reason why you want sex all of the time. You supposed to. So here I am. Let’s do it.”

The Devil should have been a salesperson or a lawyer. I was getting caught up into her way of thinking. But I stopped myself. “I haven’t agreed to anything,” I said. “I didn’t deny God to please you. I just … didn’t.”

“You don’t get it!” Ashira said, exasperated. “I don’t want your soul or anything like that. I want your body. This isn’t about what you want. It’s about what I want. I want to fuck you.”

I was almost afraid to ask, but I whispered, “Why?”

“Why?” she said in disbelief. “Because you’re hot! Right now, I think you’re the sexiest man alive.”

I didn’t know if I liked the sound of that. “What makes you say that?” I asked nervously.

“Why do you think?” she said, as if marveling how I could be so sexy and dumb. “It’s not just your body. It’s you! It’s who you are! You told God to fuck off.”

“I did not,” I said staunchly.

“Not exactly, but you wanted to, didn’t you?”

I said nothing.

“God came to you personally and asked you to do something you didn’t want to do. You started to, but then you changed your mind. In the end, you said, ‘No. I’m not going to do something just because you say so. I think for myself. I make my own decisions. I refuse to obey, and I am not afraid of the consequences.’ 

“There are very few people who could look God in the face and say that. But you did. That takes courage. That makes you extremely rare. That makes you strong and mighty. Like me.

“All that, plus you didn’t totally freak out when you met God. Or me. Most people don’t meet us face-to-face during their time on Earth. Or, they may encounter us or sense our presence without fully understanding it. But we revealed ourselves to you, and you kept your cool. I admire that.

“You said no to God. You didn’t do something stupid just because He told you to. You have a mind of your own, and you’re not afraid of Him. I respect and admire that. It excites me. Now I want to fuck your brains out, so let’s get to it!”

My mouth opened as it wanted to say something, but no words came out.

“So what’s it going be?” she said. “My place or yours?”

I found myself wondering where her place would be. I mean, wouldn’t that technically be Hell? The red room she was in looked fine, even sexy, but where was that? I couldn’t even imagine.

Probably sensing what I was thinking, Ashira said, “Oh, your place, of course.”

Then something happened on the computer screen. Ashira looked the same, but the scene changed around her. She was sitting in the same position on a different bed. My bed. She was in my bedroom down the hall.

–––––

In one way, I wanted to jump up and run to my room to see if she was really there. If she wasn’t, then I’d feel empowered. I’d know for sure that somebody was playing tricks on me.

I thought about rushing in there, but then I stopped. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea. What if she really were there? Then I’d have to deal with her in person. She repeatedly said she meant me no harm and was just looking for sex, but I instinctively knew she was dangerous.

Then there was the opposite problem. If I was in the same room with her, I might not want her to leave. I might want her to stay. It was hard enough not to stare at her when she was on the computer screen. How would I react when she was right in front of me in reality?

“Yes, I’m really here,” she said, as if sensing the reason for my hesitation. She tugged open the drawer of my nightstand and slapped it shut. I heard the small clap of the wood in stereo, coming from both the computer speakers in front of me and from my room down the hall in my house. I closed my eyes, trying to control my fear.

“Hey! Look what I found!” Ashira said. She reached in the drawer, pulled out a magazine, and flipped through it.

“Oooh, Miss October!” Ashira said. “She’s hot!”

Then something really freaky happened. If I had blinked I would have missed it. In the time between breaths, Ashira’s hair and face changed. Her boobs grew. Her whole body changed slightly. She seemed to shrink in height. It was very subtle. The woman in red sitting on my bed was Miss October.

“Well? What do you think?” she said. Her voice was different. I imagined it matched the real Miss October’s.

“Uh … Can you do movie stars as well?”

“Of course,” she laughed.

Before my eyes, she morphed into a several different A-list actresses.

“Well?” she said. “Are you going to pick one, or do I have to keep going until you find one you like?”

Actually, I like all of them. I wanted all of them. I couldn’t say any one woman’s body was “better” than another’s. They were just different. I wasn’t having trouble making up my mind. I was just fascinated at the transformations and wanted to see the shapeshifting from one girl to the next.

 Finally, Ashira said, “I don’t think you know what you want.”

Then something bizarre happened. An Asian girl slipped into the scene from the left side of the frame. From the other side, a blonde woman slipped in besides the red-haired “original version” of Ashira.

“What the …? You brought friends?”

All three women laughed at once.

“What’s so funny?” I asked. “Which one of them is you?”

“They’re all me,” the women said, all at the same time. Then just the original Ashira followed, “You seemed to be having a little trouble making up your mind. I thought I would help you.”

And she did. That made the decision a lot easier. I was fully hard by now. Something was moving in my pants like a caged animal that wanted out. I got to my feet.

All of the girls laid back on my bed, laughing. They filled the computer screen window. It was like looking at a warm, writhing pool of women, waiting for me to dive in. Then a fourth woman joined the others. She was dark with long black hair. I tried to guess her ethnicity. It didn’t matter.

Something went “thunk” in my brain, like a big piece of machinery just fit into the slot it was supposed to go into. The different possibilities and combinations churned in my brain. I found myself being drawn toward the room as if I was being pulled by a leash attached between my legs. I was on my way to my room. My fear was gone.

Then I saw something that made me stop. I was passing the dining room when I saw it. There was a black shape under the table. The thing in the darkness under the table growled.

I shouted and looked around for anything in arm’s reach that I could use as a weapon.

A short, muffled bark came from under the table, followed by more growling.

“S-Sampson?”

A puff of air pushed past a pair of leathery lips. It sounded like a dog that was reluctant to bark, but wanted to. I lowered my guard and nervously knelt down, peering under the table.

It was Sampson. He was terrified.

“Sampson? What are you doing under there?”

I heard a small, high-pitched whine that sounded like a coyote baying at the moon from some faraway hilltop in the night. I looked at him closer. He was shaking.

That was scary. I’ve been out hunting in the woods with Sampson before when I knew bears or wolves were around. I would find fresh tracks and droppings, and Sampson would be acting weird, smelling something unusual. Still, even then, he didn’t freak out like he was now. I was never really scared with him next to me. I normally felt safe with a big dog and a gun.

But something was wrong with Sampson now.

“Hey, buddy? What’s wrong with you? Are you OK? Come on. Get out from under there.”

I reached my hand for him. There are a loud, short bark and a snap. I instinctively jerked my hand back. What the hell was that? He almost bit me. Sampson had never done that before. Ever. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Bad dog! What’s with you?” I said. “OK, just don’t bother me. I’m going to my room.”

I started to walk down the hall.

Then another weird thing happened. Sampson ran in front of me and stopped, facing the hall. He started barking his head off.

“Hey! There’s somebody in there. I know. HEY!”

Sampson would not stop. He growled and snarled loudly when I tried to go near him.

I had never seen him act like that before. I was actually afraid of him.

I took two more steps toward my room. I heard a low whine come from Sampson. It sounded like a wolf’s howl, traveling over a distant valley on a moonlit night. It was lonely and pitiful and chilling.

I stopped where I was. Sampson was terrified. This was the same dog that wasn’t afraid of bears. But he was afraid of the people (or the one woman) in the house. He could sense the danger. Actually, I could too, but I was thinking with my dick. It was pointing me to the room full of girls like a compass fixed on magnetic north.

I looked down the hall, thinking of what I would be doing in just a few minutes. Then I looked at Sampson again. I looked into his eyes, wondering what he would say if he could talk. Then I realized, he didn’t have to. We could understand each other perfectly.

His eyes said, “I’m protecting my family and my household. We’re in danger.”

“What? I’m doing it,” I said, as much to him as to myself. I turned down the hall. “I … I deserve it.”

As soon as I turned my back, he started barking his head off again. He was not going to let it go. He ran to the edge of the hall and barked down the dark corridor towards the door to my room. He knew there was somebody in the house. He would go to the edge of the hallway but not into it, which I though was scary for some reason.

If there had been an intruder in the house, Sampson would have eaten him alive. The way he was keeping his distance from my door was freaky. I’d seen him act like this once before. In the woods one time, we came face-to-face with a mountain lion. Sampson acted the same way as he was now. He growled and barked loudly, the universal translation in animal language for “I see you!” and “Stay the fuck away!”

At that time, I stayed cool. I had my rifle in my hands. I remember I had a choice when facing the lion: Shoot the animal or fire into the air to try to scare it away. I shot one round into the air. The cat ran. The cougar could take on the dog and the human. But it didn’t want to mess with the gun. Cats are smart.

I remembered something my grandma used to say. “There is something wrong with the person an animal doesn’t like.” I think she’s right about that. Sampson didn’t like Ashira. There was something wrong with her. He was trying to protect me.

I tried to visualize what I would be doing if I went into that room. Then, I tried to imagine myself enjoying it, knowing my dog was outside shivering in terror.

I went back to the computer. The live-cam was window was still up. Ashira was sitting on the edge the bed. The other girls were already making out.

“We started with out you,” Ashira said, pouting. “What’s taking you so long?”

“Uh …” I found myself staring at Ashira’s cleavage. Before I changed my mind, I closed my eyes and blurted out, “I want you to leave.”

“What!?”

“I want you to leave.” I squeezed my eyes shut tighter.

“What’s the problem?” Ashira snapped.

“I don’t know who or what you are.”

“I thought we went over all of that! Oh, wait a minute. I get it. It’s that dog right?”

I opened my eyes. Ashira was standing by bed. The women in the background had stopped in the middle of what they were doing and were looking at me. I was not tempted this time. I had a new resolve.