Temptation: The first chapter

(The first chapter of Temptation, out now on Amazon)

I 

Stirs The Meat 

Warm beer had a certain effect on the mind. It tasted like depression, watered-down dreams that were long gone. It leaked those flavors into the brain and soured the mood. It was a drink that cheated you. John had been drinking it a lot. He'd been drinking it for the last three years. 

“Turn that fucking noise down!” He shouted at the wall. The grunge music, some Nirvana knock-off thumping through the air for the last thirty minutes, lessened to a whisper. He sneered at the brown bottle in his hand before finishing it with a belch. John's head felt like ants were moving around in the tiny pores of his skull. Usually, a few bottles of the cheap stuff were all it took to ease the ache, but lately, all his drinking barely took the edge off.  

He went down the hall to the small, dingy bathroom. He'd not bothered to clean it in a while. The dull piss stains on the porcelain shone in the light from the naked bulb overhead. After rummaging around in the drawers, he found a half-empty bottle of aspirin. Four white pills tumbled down his throat, a bitter promise of relief. John took a look at himself in the mirror above the sink.  

His whole face had a sag to it, as if the skin were slowly melting away from his meat. Pulled down by gravity, by time. Bags under his brown eyes, the beginning of jowls at his cheeks. Even his lips had started to thin. Looking at his face was like watching a horror movie made just for him.  

“At least I still got a head of hair.” He took hold of a clump of his brown curls and gave a tug. Not a single strand gave way. “Made out better than you did, Pops.”  

Will I make out better though?  

That thought was what kept him up at night. Six more years and he'd be the same age as his father was when he died. Heart failure. John put a hand on his chest and counted the beats. He wondered about where all the time had gone and what else he might have inherited from his old man besides a timeshare in Malibu.   

The last door at the end of the hall opened, and Thomas peeked out. There was no sign of his father. If the music were still too loud, his dad would be beating the door down by now. Normally, having another row with the old man wouldn't bother him, but tonight was different. Tonight, he had a guest.  

“Is he pissed?” Abby whispered from the bed. She felt bad about this whole thing. She had insisted on taking their make-out study session to his house for a change. Thomas had tried to convince her it was a bad idea, but she'd kept at it. She had wanted to know what his room looked like. She wanted to be in the place where he kept his secrets and dreams, a place that was soaked in him. It had not been like she had imagined.  

As soon as they walked into the house, the air felt thick with tension. His father just sat there on the sofa, but his posture, the way he barely said a word to Thomas, told her he wanted them out of there. When they got to his room, when she could smell him on the sheets, the knots in her belly lessened. 

“Always. Either piss drunk or pissed off. Seems to be his two moods lately.” Thomas closed the door as gently as he could. He turned back around and took in the sight of Abby on his bed. She wasn't just cute; she was cute in the way most girls try to be. Effortless. No hours in front of the mirror, no makeup, just her. She was different from the other girls his friends were into. She kept her dark hair short and wore baggy jeans that she had doodled odd beings onto. 

Those jeans had been their first topic of conversation after Abby agreed to a dinner after school. Thomas had questioned why she drew on her pants if the drawings would just wash away when she did laundry. She'd told him that was part of the fun, drawing new designs every time. Today, a black dragon spat fire onto her thigh.  

“Maybe we should have just gone to my place,” Abby sighed.  

“I don't know. I kinda like seeing you on my bed.” There it was, that smile. Every time she saw it, her chest felt full and warm. That grin was a warning. A warning that, for a little while, those lips would make the world spin. She would forget everything but the two of them. They explored each other's mouths for what felt like a lifetime. He had snaked his hand up her shirt at some point, and Abby found her fingers pressing softly on the bulge in his pants before her phone went off.  

“Shit,” she hissed when she saw the name of the caller on the screen. 

MOM 

“Hey, Mom.” Abby did her best innocent voice as she straightened her bra. “No, no, everything is fine. Just running a little behind.” She got up and swatted at his hands when Thomas tried to pull her back onto the bed. “Yeah, we are. His car just wouldn't start.” She pulled on her shoes one-handed. “No, don't send Toby to pick me up. He's got it going. We're in the car now.” Thomas sat up and mimed turning the key in an invisible ignition. He then pretended to turn a steering wheel as Abby finished getting ready. “Love you too, Mom.” 

“You know, we might have to stop and get gas.” He squinted at where the gauges would be. “Looking a bit low.”  

“You're awful, you know that?” She picked up an old shirt from a hamper and tossed it at his head. When it hit him, he made a show of spinning the invisible wheel. Thomas made a loud screech to imitate tires squealing and threw both hands in the air before he fell back onto the bed. 

“Boom!” 

“Come on, I'm already late.”  

“Um, you just killed me! Didn't you see that horrible car crash? Nobody can just walk away from that.” Thomas did his best to keep a straight face, but the look she gave him caused him to burst with laughter.  

“My mom is going to really kill me if you don't get me back soon.”  

“Alright, alright.” Thomas grabbed his keys from the bedside table and checked the time on his own phone. “Damn, I didn't realize it was so late.”  

“Come on, slow poke. I'll meet you in the car.” Abby quickly headed out the bedroom door and down the hall. She was in such a rush she didn't notice John as he stepped out of the bathroom. Abby collided with his chest and nearly lost her balance.  

“Whoa, easy there.” John caught her by the shoulders and kept her steady. He ran his hands down to the soft skin of her forearms. Still startled from accidentally bumping into him, she looked up at his face and John felt something he had not felt in years.  

Desire. 

Abby took a step back from the older man and pulled her arms free. She could feel his eyes move over her. Down her face, lingered for a moment on her lips, then settled on her breasts. Those eyes looked at her in a way she had never been looked at before. It made her skin feel hot, and her stomach tightened up. It was as if she wasn't a person in those eyes but food, and he'd been starving for years.  

“You're never going to beat me to the car if you don't get moving.” Thomas moved down the hall quick as a flash and zipped past her. He stopped at the sofa and looked back at the two of them. “What’s up?”  

“Sorry, should've watched where I was going,” she mumbled to John's feet before she took off after Thomas. As the two of them headed out of the house, John followed the curve of her ass. Shocked, he gave his swollen cock a squeeze through his shorts. He had only been able to manage little more than half-mast on a good day for a while now.  

Before he could dip back into the bathroom and enjoy this new development, his manhood drooped. Flaccid and useless. John felt his chest tense up. His vision got a little darker on the edges. He braced himself against the door frame. Then it all passed, as quick as it had come. He shook himself and settled back onto the couch. He cracked open another beer and chugged it down. His mind swirled with images of his dad in the hospital, mixed with what he imagined Abby's face would look like with his cock between her lips.  

“You okay?” Thomas slowed the car down to a crawl. They were a few streets away from her house, but there wasn't any traffic. She had not said a word since they had gotten into the car and that wasn't like her at all. 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” She looked over at him and smiled. She knew she had been giving him the silent treatment, but that encounter with his dad had unsettled her. She'd been leered at by guys before, but John had been different. The hunger in those eyes, just thinking about it made the hairs across her body stand up.  

“Come on, even I know that’s code for something is up.” He made the next left turn and slowed to a crawl. “Your mom can wait a bit longer.” He put his hand on her knee and gave a squeeze. “Talk to me.”  

“Has your dad always been like that?” Abby measured her words carefully.  

“A prick you mean?” 

“Hey, you said it.”  

“Not when Mom was around… well, not as much.” Abby watched his face. His lip quivered for just a moment. The little muscles on either side of his nose went slack, and his eyes drifted from her, just a little, to look down at empty space. At some snapshot of a past he tried not to think about. He never talked about his mom. “But she took off about three years ago. Ever since then he's gotten worse. Mad at the world. Mad at her. Mad at himself. Mad at me.”  

“Why did she leave?” She put her own hand over his.  

“Hell if I know. Woke up one Sunday, ready to head out to Grandma’s for breakfast. Instead, I found dad downstairs with a letter for me.” He turned down her street and took a long breath. “She'd took all of her stuff. Said she had to work some things out and that she loved me. Dad had a letter too, but it wasn't nearly as nice.” 

“Damn.” Abby took his hand and kissed his knuckle as they pulled up to her house. She could already see her mom by the screen door. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...” 

“You didn't make me feel bad.” He cut her off. “Honestly, they fought like cats and dogs. It’s a lot quieter with her out there doing God knows what.” 

Thomas needed to change the topic to something else and fast. He could feel the sting of sadness on the back of his throat, the tickle of tears at the edges of his eyes. “We still good for next weekend?” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and made exaggerated glances at her mother. “You sure the warden hasn't caught on?” 

“Oh my God,” Abby couldn't help but laugh at him. He could always get her to laugh, no matter how down she was feeling. “Yes, we're set.” She got out of the car and waved to her mom. “I'm heading to the mall tomorrow with Samantha. Wanna try that new ice cream place?”  

“Jolly Cone?” 

“Scoop,” she corrected.   

“I can't, I'm helping dad finish up his man cave in the basement.” Thomas put on a wide, joyless grin. “I give it about an hour before he chucks a bottle at my head. Or I toss one at his.”  

“I'll pick you up a helmet.”  

“You're so good to me.” 

She leaned back in for a quick kiss before the sound of the screen door pulled them apart. “Visiting hours are over,” he whispered as she walked away.

Young love is never easy. For Abby and Thomas, it felt like the deck had been stacked against them from the start. Faced with a dangerous obsession, an otherworldly monstrosity, and twisted horrors in every dark corner, will they be able to survive what lusts after their very flesh?

"Her mummified mouth, still open in that silent scream of the dead, closed in front of his eyes. Her withered lips turned up into a smile. Something heavy stepped next to him, over him, and the door closed. There was a loud crunch and the flashlight blinked out of existence."