Maria sat in the folding aluminum chair stairing at her feet as the ancient-looking auctioneer manned the podium in the center of the huge room. Real-estate moguls, rich freaks, and old wives filled the rest of the chairs in the room of her grandfather's mansion.
She couldn't help but wonder--was John's personality too good to be true? Were her family and friends right? She'd defended the man against her own parents even though she barely knew him. Only know was she finally coming to her senses. Unfortunately, the man she was now doubting sat only inches away from her. She glanced away from her feet and toward John. He was as excited as a teenage boy awaiting his first kiss. Wierd, she thought as she continued staring at her feet.
Maria was nearly finished counting the pores on her feet when the auctioneer finally spoke into the microphone attatched to the podium.
"Hello everyone. I'm sure you all know that we are here today to put the late Mr. Montgomery's entire estate up for auction. My name is Charles. Let's begin."
"Finally." Maria whispered. She hadn't meant for John to hear her, but he looked at her and smiled--a clear sign that he had heard.
"The first item up for auction is a lovely victorian era couch." The rest of the auctioneer's description was cut off by her own loud thinking. She wrestled with the question of John's true personality. Sure, the couch was beatiful, but it was nothing compared to the thought of once again pleasing her family and friends. She'd yelled at Joyce more than once and even came close to strabgling her own mother.
The auctioneer's voice took priority in her mind once again, though she didn't know how. She was in the middle of a thought when his voice boomed through her mind.
"The final item up for bid is an old chest. It hasn't been opened and it seems to have some decay, but it is wonderful for any antique collectors in the room."
Maria wanted to scream, but her mouth was closed tight. She couldn't even part her lips to whistle. Something unnatural was kepping her mouth shut. Suddenly her mouth opened wide a voice that was not her own spoke from within her.
"I bid $300."
Maria wanted to scream again, and even though her mouth was open, she could make no sound. She was able to turn her head to look at John, and that's when all her loved one's theories were confirmed. John sat limp in his chair, his arms dangling at his sides. A black ooze dribbled from his mouth, along with a gurgling sound. His eyes were cold and lifeless, almost pure evil. He wasn't dead. His chest was moving up and down with each breath he took and his eyes danced around like demons from the pits of hell.
Finally, she regained control. She didn't have the money to pay three-hundred dollars for a crappy chest, and she definitely didn't have the balls to stay around and confront John after what she'd just scene. Taking advantage of her regained freedom to move, she calmly rose from her chair and walked out of the room. Once she was in the foyer, she cried. She hadn't cried like that in months, even years. When she finally composed herself, she grabbed her carkeys from her purse and ran out to her car just as John walked out of the auction. The black ooze was gone and a smile was pasted onto his face. It was that devilish smile that she would no longer miss.


* * *


John was sat in the aluminum chair without his senses for several minutes. His mind was clear and he could perform no other tasks while controling the woman with whom he was in mad fictional love. Finally, he realized that Maria was no longer present, since his power had strengthened suddenly. He regained his senses and wiped his mouth of the customary black liquid. The auctioneer was just finishing his final words with the room.
John slowly stood from the chair and walked down the aisle toward the room's exit. He looked up for a moment and noticed Maria rush out the door. In her hurry, she left a moist tissue lying on the carpet. John reached down and picked it up; a slimey ooze dripping from the side. He dropped the tissue in disgust and waited until Maria had gotten into her car and had driven out off the property. He exited through the doorway and opened his car door. The annoying 'door-ajar' alarm screamed into his sensitive ear and made his head throb. Once he was finally inside the vehicle, he turned the engine on and reach for his phone. He dialed a number and waited through the ringing until a deep voice answered.
"Hello?" The man asked.
"I's John, sir."
"Is the auction over?"
"Yes." John tried to mask the nervousness in his voice. So far, it had worked.
"So what's the status? Did she buy the chest?"
"Yes, she did. But there's one problem, sir."
"What is it?"
"She's scared of me. I think she found me out." Telling his superior about his failure brang him relief, but then a new nervousness appeared.
"sh**," the man shouted, then composed himself. "How could you let that happen?"
"I'm sorry, but there was no way around it. There was no way she would have bought that piece-of-sh** chest, so I had to use an alternative."
"Don't let it happen again, John. I mean it. You will not use your abilities outside of this facility, is that clear?"
"Yes sir. Again, I'm sorry."
The man seemed to disregard John's last statement. John closed the cell phone and drove off the property. Everything was now in place. It was time to wait for Maria and Joyce to come walking into the trap. The only problem was Maria's father; the new caretaker. That was a problem that John, himself, would have to soon solve.


* * *


Joyce picked up the reciever and dialed Maria's number. She would try one last time to convince her that John was a bad man. Previous attempts had failed miserably, and this was her final try. Before she could even say 'hello', Maria's frantic voice erupted from the other side.
"Oh ****!" She screamed. Joyce could tell she had been crying long and hard.
"Hey, come on now, what's wrong?"
"You were right! Happy? You were ****ing right the whole time!"
"Right about what?" In the back of her mind, she knew the answer.
"John." She sobbed again. "John is a freak. He made me buy this horrible chest at the auction."
Joyce had to stiffle a laugh. It seemed so silly. "Well at least he didn't try to kill you." She said jokingly.
"Right now, I wish he had. I'm telling you, that man is not normal. He has some kind of freak mind control sh** or something."
She had to be delerious. "Come on, stop being dumb! You're just scared and confused."
"Oh now you want to fight me on this? I know what happened to me in there, and it was not pleasant."
"Maria, I know your pissed but you need to learn to direct your anger toward the people you're actually angry with."
"Oh and now your a therapist. Why thank you Dr. Joyce for your helpful advice. What don't you understand about this? I...was...under...some...form...of...mind...control!"
Joyce sighed and then tried to change the subject. "So what about that chest you bought?"
"Unwillingly." Maria added.
"Yes, unwillingly. What about that? Where is it?"
"Well, I left in a big hurry, so I didn't take it home with me. I assume it'll be waiting for me when I get back to my apartment."
"What's in it? And why would John want you to have that chest so bad that he'd force you to buy it?"
"I don't know what's in it, but I'm going to find out as soon as I get home. As for why he'd force me to buy it, I have no idea. The guy is a pyscho, this much I know."
"Maria, you want me to come over to your place for the night? It might help to have some company. Besides, I need a break from all the cleaning."
"Yeah, I'd like that. But, what cleaning? Your place is spotless."
Joyce could now tell her about the break-in. Now that she and John were through.
"Well, Maria, you may want to sit down."
"How else am I driving? On the roof standing up?"
"Don't be a smart ass. Your precious John Simmons killed my ****ing dog and trashed my place. He did the same to your parent's house."
The line was silent for a moment, then Maria screamed into the reciever as if she were being murdered. Joyce held the phone away from her ear until the line quieted again.
"I'm gonna kill that b******." Maria said with pure rage in her voice.
"No you're not." Joyce said, almost teasingly.
"Well then I'm calling the police."
"No you're not."
"What the ****?I can't even call the police? Why the hell not?"
"Your dad told me not to call the cops. He didn't give me a reason, but I trust him. To be completely honest, I think there is something really big going on here."
"Crazy conspiracy theories again? Haven't you grown out of that yet?"
"They're not theories, they're facts. And no I haven't grown out of them. I know the truth about the world. But let's break this down for a second. Your grandfather dies, a strange man suddenly has his eyes on you. He's too good to be true. You guys hit it off real quick and he is with you constantly. As soon as your mom and I start figuring his true colors, our places get trashed and my dog was killed. Worse yet, a note was attatched to my dog that said that I should stay away from you, or else."
Maria was silent again, contemplating the crazy and yet completely truthful statements.
"So what, are you saying John's like some kind of spy or something?" Maria asked.
"No, I think its even bigger than that. I think that most of the answers we're looking for are in that chest you bought."
"Unwillingly. Listen I'm pulling into my parking lot now. Come on over. We'll make some snacks and stuff; have a good old-fashioned sleep over."
"Sounds great." Joyce said, and then she hung up.
She threw the phone down on the couch and grabbed her car keys from the kitchen counter. She navigated through her possessions lying about on the floor and reached for the door knob. She stopped, turned around, and went back into her kitchen. She opened a small utinsel drawer and pulled out a five inch long hunting knife that she had gotten from her father. She put it in her purse and hurried out the door. Better safe than sorry, she thought.


* * *


The chandelier hanging from the cieling of Henry's cozy office brightened the room when he flipped the light switch. He walked over to his file cabinet and reached in his pocket for his keys. When he finally found them, he inserted the smallest one into the cabinet's lock. The drawer was pushed open by an internal spring.
Henry fingered through the various folders and notebooks until he came across the one he was looking for. He pulled it out and opened it. On it's front was the word "Membership." Henry walked to his desk while still reading and sat in his executive leather chair. The wood paneling gave the room a warm, cozy ambience, while the bay window allowed for a wonderful view of the snow-covered woods outside.
The document he was reading was the most current membership roster of the Bohemian Club. The club to which he and his father and his grandfather had belonged. They were all caretakers of the meeting site, and now since his father's death, he had become the new caretaker.
As a young man, he had watched his father leave secretly in the middle of the night, only to drive out into the woods. He'd always wondered why his father had wanted to go into such a spooky, and dangerous place so late at night. In fact, a few times he had even followed his dad. He'd gotten far enough into the woods to see the signs warning intruders of the action that would be taken if they were discovered. He saw the armed men in black suits. And he saw the twenty or so limosines parked in a line next to a shack the size of an outhouse. Even as a child, his father's activities seemed strange, even suspicious. Only a year ago, had he finally learned of his father's true occupation. His health had been rapidly declining and Henry Sr. wanted his son to know the truth.
Even now, as he flipped through the roster, Henry could barely believe his father was involved with an organization so secretive, so exclusive, and so dark. The mainstream public had no knowledge that the club even existed. Those that did have knowledge were labeled "Conspiracy Theorists" and mocked into the withdrawal of their theories. Of course, some people fought on to convey the truth. People like Alex Jones. Unfortunately, they would not be believed. Not until the world sees for their own eyes the horrible events that occur within the club.
Henry was searching for one name in particular. He was searching for Johnathan Simmons. His father had warned him about John, and even showed him a picture of the man. Never once did he think he would actually encounter the guy, much less have his daughter date the man.
Henry's intention was clear. Kill the b******. He didn't care about reprocussions, prison time, even death. All he cared about was the safety of his family. As long as John was alive, that could never be a sure thing. Henry was so fiercly scanning the pages of the roster that he failed to hear the muffled footsteps behind him or the sound of the gun being cocked. When he finally was aware of the intruder behind him, it was too late. He swung around in the chair just as a flash of light and the sound of a silenced gunshot filled the room.
Henry stared in shock for a moment at his hooded attacker, and then moved his hand up to feel his warm blood oozing from the wound in his chest. He knew exactly who the man was and what he had to do. As much as the wound hurt, as much as he wanted to give in to the darkness of death, he could not. Not until John was dead. He lunged forward of the chair and knocked John to the ground. Like a wolf attacking its prey, he bit and scratched at John, thinking of nothing but killing the man.
John fired off two more shots which entered into Henry's back. His body fell limp for a moment, but then continued to bite and scratch. Even though he was slowly loosing his vision, Henry saw the shiney object attatched to John's belt. It was a medium sized hunting knife. He quickly grabbed the knife and tore it from it's sheath. Never had he seen such strength in himself. He lifted teh knife as high as he could and them plunged it into John's shoulder. John let out a loud scream and then squeezed the trigger of his gun two more times. One bullet hit Henry in the neck and the other hit John's own foot. Again, John screamed in pain, but Henry laid limp on the floor. His vision was finally gone, but he could hear clearer than ever. He heard John's heartbeat, and that of his own. He heard John struggling to walk around, and then fiddle with some sort of metallic item. It sounded like chicken fence or something of the like. Just as he was about to fall into unconciousness, the fierce pain of barbed wire cutting through his skin assailed him from all places on his body. The pain was too much. Death was waiting at his doorstep. Without regret, he welcomed the reaper.


* * *


"Open mine!" Lois shouted excitedly at her friend, and soon-to-be mother, Melissa.
Melissa reached toward the coffee table with presents stacked nearly to the cieling and picked out Lois's gift. She ripped off the wrapping paper with the fierceness of a lioness and gawked at the present sitting in her lap. Lois looked at her with a wide grin. Melissa looked back with a fake smile.
"What is it," Melissa asked.
"You have to open the box." Lois said.
Melissa slowly lifted the lid and a smile grew wide on her face. Inside was a gift card to the local baby clothing store worth one-thousand dollars. Melissa nearly jumped from her seat. Loius got up from her seat and hugged her friend. One-thousand dollars was nothing now that Henry had his new job, even if she didn't know exactly what he did.
Lisa, Lois's other friend sat impatiently, until she could wait no longer.
"Come on, open mine," she yelled.
"Alright, alright, there's no need to rush. We have all night," Melissa joked.
Melissa leaned toward the next present. Lois watched with pride at how Melissa kept the gift card in her lap as she opened the next present. That's when a new feeling intruded. It was a strange feeling; an unpleasent feeling. Out of nowhere, she suddenly felt very alone in the world. It was as if her greatest love had been stripped from her. That's when she knew what had happened. She'd heard about how husbands and wives share a pyschic bond with each other, but she'd never experienced it for herself. It was at that moment that she knew her husband was dead.
Lois fell out of her chair and landed hard on the carpeted floor. Everyone gasped, and then rushed to her aid. Melissa shouted for everyone to give her air, and then rushed to her side.
"What's wrong, Lois?" Melissa asked urgently.
In a quiet, weak voice, Lois was able to answer Melissa before fading into the comforting world of the unconcious.
"My love is gone. Henry is dead."
Then she drifted into the welcoming darkness.


* * *


"Hand me the crowbar in the closet." Maria said as she attempted again to pry the lock off the dusty old chest with a screwdriver.
"Be right back." Joyce said as she scampered to the closet a few feet away. She searched through a pile of old moth-eaten clothes and pulled a crowbar from beneath the rags.
"You really have got to clean that closet, she said, handing Maria the crowbar.
Without answering, Maria shoved the crowbar between the lock and the musty wood of the chest. She pulled back on the crowbar once, without using too much strength. When that produced no results, she pulled back even harder.
Three more times and she was pulling with all her might. Finally, she heard a tiny cracking sound, and gave one final pull of the crowbar. The lock broke free from the chest and nearly hit Joyce in the face as it flew through the air and landed just inches away from Maria's television.
"That was close," Joyce laughed.
Maria was too busy preparing herself to open the chest. It was as if they were in some korny drama movie where every move the protagonist made was in slow-motion to increase the suspense. Joyce knelt down next to her friend as Maria slipped her fingers between the lid and the body of the chest. She lifted up and then let go of the lid as a wiff of old air and the smell of something dead assailed her. The lid crashed down, and a few chips of paint fell from the side of the chest.
Maria lifted the lid again, this time with her shirt over her nose and mouth. She stepped away from the chest for a moment to allow the smelly air to escape. Joyce did the same. When she felt enough time had passed, she knelt back down and began looking through the contents of the chest. Maria heard a faint thump coming from the bathroom, but quickly dismissed it as the water pipes.
Hundreds of letters were piled in the chest. Maria was in awe at the sheer volume of yellow-stained paper. Within moments, curiosity got the best of both women as they shoved their hands into the pile and each pulled out an envelope. They took out the paper inside and opened it.
"Listen to this," Maria said as she began reading from the letter. "Mr. Montgomery, your place in our club is as a caretaker. I suggest you perform your role instead of snooping around through our personal files. We know that you have taken information from us. We trust that you will do the right thing and dispose of them as soon as possible."
"What club is that," Joyce asked? "I don't remember your grandfather ever belonging to any clubs."
"Yeah, neither do I." Maria said.
Joyce was about to open her letter when she noticed a milky white protrusion coming from beneath the pile of letters.
"What the **** is that," she asked.
Maria set her letter down on the floor and looked where Joyce was now pointing. She saw it too. An object that reminded her of a rotting mouse she had once found in her closet when she was a child. She reached for the object and picked it out from the pile. What she pulled out made both women gag. Maria quickly dropped it into the pile of letters and scooted away from the chest. She sat dumbfounded until Joyce spoke.
"Was that a ****ing toe?"
"Yeah, I think it was," Maria said.
Maria crawled back to the chest and poked the toe with her finger until she noticed that a piece of paper was attatched to the toe with a staple. She pulled the paper free and dropped the toe back into the letters. She unfolded it and read it outloud.
"I had to take her toe. It was the only thing left after they burned her alive. Those ****ing people. I wish I'd never gotten involved here. I just hope Joyce can forgive me. Maybe one day I'll give her sister's toe a proper burial. For now, I'll keep it in that trunk in the attic. I just have to take all these letters up there."
Joyce was noticebly shaken. Tears streamed down her face as she starred off to the corner of the room.
"Is this some kind of sick joke," she asked, still staring.
"No, Joyce I would never--"
"How could you do something like this?" She said, getting angrier by the second.
"Joyce, I swear I didn't do anything."
Joyce stared off for a few moments and then took a swing at Maria. Maria ducked as Joyce threw her whole body against her. Joyce got up and started crying. But not normal crying. She was wailing. Maria got up, brushed the dust from her pajamas and leaned close to her best friend. She wrapped her arms around Joyce and hugged her for a long time.
"What's going on," Joyce asked in between sobs.
"I don't know, but I'm sure as hell going to find out."
Just then, Maria heard struggling coming from the bathroom. She had to go make sure everything was okay.
"Joyce, listen to me, I'm going to go check the bathroom real quick. I'll be back in a minute."
Maria motioned for Joyce to sit and then rushed off to the bathroom. On her way, she grabbed a kitchen knife from her cutlery set.
The bathroom was dark and still until Maria flipped the light switch to the 'on' position. Then the bathroom gave up its bloody secret. The walls, floor, and carpets were covered with blood. Inside the bathtub, something twitched. Maria stood stunned for a moment and then covered her mouth to keep from screaming. She pulled the curtain away and then uncovered her mouth. She screamed so loud that her neighbors knocked on their walls, ceilings, and floors. Joyce came running into the room and stopped as she passed through the doorway.
In the bathtub, Maria's father laid twisting in agony, his body wrapped with barbed wire. His skin was seraded and bleeding profusely. Several gunshots leaked blood and a brown and black liquid. He coughed up blood and then turned heis head slowly to see Maria. He smiled weakly, and opened his mouth to speak. Only one word came out. "John." Henry coughed up about a gallon of blood, twitched a few more times, and then laid still. Maria held his grimy hand as his eyeballs slowly turned back into his head.
Joyce watched in complete silence as Maria rose from her father's body and stared at her blood covered hand. She looked at the knife and smirked. Joyce was confused and scared.
"Maria, please don't do anything you'll regret." she said in as pleasant a voice as she could muster.
Maria looked up at Joyce and then through the knife at the wall. It lodged itself almost three inches into the drywall.
"I'm gonna kill that b******! I ****ing will," she screamed.


Tell me what you think!!!

Wow.....getting better and better..the suspense, can't wait for the next chapter.

great work...seriously can't wait was next one

when u will posting ur next chapter ?

soon. very soon.