Dancing with the Devil (Ch. 3) - Need Criticism!

[Trish the Stalker]

I finally thought of a way to reconcile the issues with the plot of a novella I wrote around June 2004. I bring you the prologue for now. Everything you see here is written by me. Keep in mind this is only a draft for now and any suggestions are hugely appreciated.

Rated R for sex and violence.

Dancing with the Devil
By Laurie-Ann Pederson

Prologue

The devil wishes to have my soul, and I might be caving.
O dear sweet madness and torment in this unrequited craving.
Suddenly I see in truth that this living lie
Has grown beyond reality, you or I.
My soul finds you in the silence and the dark
Between the dying dreams and broken hopes I feel your heart.
A moonlit night proves to end us all
How long is it now before the fall?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A scream split the moonlit night. The full moon looked down upon the brutal scene unfolding below; a woman in an alleyway was being accosted by two young men.

“What do you want? You can have my wallet! Here, take it!” her voice was shrill with fright as she reached into her purse and flung her battered leather wallet in the direction of her attackers, who were shrouded in darkness.

“Oh it’s not your wallet we’re looking for lady.” The one man began to chuckle with a hacking smoker’s laugh.

Instantly the young woman pulled a can of mace out of her purse and pointed the nozzle at the men who were slowly cornering her. “Get back.”

“We don’t want to hurt you,” said the other man, “We just want to play.” His laugh was a menacingly high-pitched one.

Slowly the two of them closed in on her and she sprayed the man with the smoker’s cough in the face, although she only caught one side of him. Unfortunately the other man knocked the can out of her hand and sent her flying into the pavement, hard. She could feel the sticky warmth of blood pooling quickly under her cheekbone. She could hear the man she had sprayed cursing madly in the background.

“b***h,” spat the one who had knocked her down. When she tried to lift herself up he put his heavy boot on her back, digging her face once again into the ground and grinding dirt and rocks into her bloody wound. “We have plans for you.”

The woman lay on the ground, beginning to sob. “Please! Let me go!”

“Never, b***h!” came a choked curse from the one man’s swelling vocal chords as he grasped her jacket’s shoulder and pulled her over onto her back. She could feel tears and saliva dripping down from his face onto hers which already tear-and-blood-stained. He then pulled out a switchblade, causing the woman to scream again.

“We said we wouldn’t hurt you,” said the mace-free man as his partner proceeded to use the knife to cut away her clothes. “Don’t squirm or else he might cut you. Oh, and I might like to try this if you to escape.” He pulled out a handgun and pointed it point blank at her face.

The woman now lay in silent resignation, crying silent tears as her clothes were reduced to shreds. The man that she had used her mace on was now undoing his pants and the woman closed her eyes and tried to think of something other than the fact that she was going to lose her virginity to these thugs. Unfortunately the other man saw this and ground the muzzle into her forehead, “Open your eyes, and enjoy your deflowering, angel. Otherwise I might slip on the trigger.”

The man on top of her grabbed her face and gave her a sloppy, swollen-lipped kiss that was no more than him mashing his mouth into hers. Tearing at her hair, he then rammed himself in-between her legs, and she screamed with pain and horror. He ******** her hard and fast, causing her to bleed. When he finished inside of her she had reached hysterics in silent sobs. “Alright buddy, your turn.”

The second one treated her with eerie kindness. First he stroked her undamaged cheek and then he braced the small of her back with his hands. He pulled her into a sitting position and gave her a light kiss on the lips. “Shush, it’s okay now.” He hugged her close and then flipped her onto her front again and began to penetrate her from behind in the one place she thought she forever would have remained a virgin. He was slow and deliberate at his task and after what seemed like forever he finally came inside of her. When he was done he flipped her over again to give her one more gentle kiss on the lips.

Suddenly the sound of police sirens could be heard in the distance. The man with the gun pulled it out without a second thought and pointed the muzzle in the middle of her forehead. “G’night, sweetheart.”

The full moon looked down as a gunshot split the night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lying on the floor, a woman’s pale eyes met a blindingly stark white room. As she lifted her head she realised that blood and saliva held a weak bond between her face and the hard commercial red carpet she found herself on. At first everything was blurry and then her eyes adjusted to see a room with walls that were once white but were slowly yellowing with age. She began to stand but felt as though the ground beneath her were shifting and she once again hit the ground. After a moment to regain her strength she stood slowly, bracing herself with her arms as much as possible.

After a moment she inspected herself to find out where the blood was coming from, but she couldn’t seem to find the source. She was dressed in a plain white dress that she was unsure of whether it was one she owned or not. Her hair streamed down to her waist but it was horribly matted. She futilely fought the tangles for a while and then stopped after realising how pointless that task was and took a moment to take stock of her surroundings.

She could clearly see that in front of her were three doors on the left and three windows on the right of a misshapen-hexagonal room. The doors were mahogany, the door and window frames and basic wood moulding on the edge of the floor were a cheap imitation, breaking and cracking slightly at the corners. The doors were labelled with gold letters, the closest being the four-foot tall Sacristy door, the second a full-sized frosted-windowed Rectory and the last door which was solid wood and led to the Sacrificum.

The light from the windows was stale, lighting up the dust in the air, but nothing could be seen out of them other than sheer whiteness beyond the Venetian blinds. She turned around to see what lay behind her and saw a never-ending hallway lined with doors on the one side and windows on the other, each one named with gold letters. It appeared that she was at the very end of this hallway. With nothing else to lose she crept up to the Rectory door and tried to peer through the frosted glass. As she did so the door opened, revealing a simple office lined with books and with a handsome man seated at the desk. His hair was blonde and pulled back in a Victorian ponytail and his skin was tanned but not dark. He had a royal blue shirt that matched the era of his hairstyle with silver accenting and buttons. “Have a seat,” He smiled kindly, “I‘ve been expecting you, dear Lethe.”  

[Trish the Stalker]

Chapter One

The woman eyed the man hungrily, as if she needed something he had very much. She sat down in the leather-padded office chair on the near side of the desk, her gaze never straying from his ice-blue eyes. “How are you, my pet? Not to well, I’m going to assume.”

“Where am I?” Her voice echoed despite the small size of the office.

He simply smiled secretively, as if he were guarding some sacred bit of knowledge. “Nowhere important.”

“Who are you?”

“No one important. A better question would be to ask who you are.”

“I’m-” her eyes went wide with sudden realisation, “I have no idea.”

He stood and walked around the desk and offered his hand. She could see he was wearing stark white, modern slacks and black dress shoes, which oddly matched his period attire. When he looked down at her she felt electricity jump from his gaze and her heart fluttered. “Would you care to accompany me? There’s something you might like to see.”

A slow nod was her only response. She reached out her hand but stopped a few inches from his own as if she had been shocked. Collecting herself she delicately placed her hand in his and was filled with intense desire coursing from her fingertips into her innermost being like a current. The man courteously held the door open for her as she exited the room never releasing her hand which she was ever-drawing a peculiar sense of want from.

Once again she was in the hexagonal room and he led her into the Sacrificum door, once again holding it open for her. The blonde man closed the door behind them and the woman took stock of her surroundings. Inside was a bed with a heavy feather duvet that had once been white but was now a sun-starched yellow bunched up on top of matching sheets. A single window could be seen 6 feet up the wall and it was only two feet wide and one foot tall with three bars across it. Sickening yellow light streamed in. The carpet was of the same industrial texture as the red outside but a stained pale yellow instead. The walls were dirty white with a few gouges. The most overpowering thing of all was the smell: rot and urine.

As she noticed the duvet begin to move ever-so-slightly she heard the sound of the latch on the door being locked shut. A pale, flushed face appeared at the head of the bed. It was a girl with greasy, curly hair of no more than seventeen. “Lethe, you may go see her. She is very much like you are at the moment.” He motioned toward the bed.

The woman moved with uncertainty to the edge of the bed. “Mama…?” whispered the girl in the bed. “Mama it’s me, Heather.” Her voice was dry, raspy, and barely there. But what the woman noticed most was her eyes, completely glazed over and unseeing. A small gasp escaped the woman’s lips when she noticed this and she fell to her knees beside the bed.

“Frightening, isn’t it?” said the man, who was now standing “She’s a drug addict. They tend to pass through here when they’re putting their lives in the backseat for fun. It’s hedonism at its finest. Stay right where you are my dears.”

He then moved up to the bed and pulled the covers off of the girl, revealing a fragile frame and thin arms marked with both bruises and cuts. She squirmed slightly upon removal of the blankets, her body completely nude and exposed. As she lay on her back he straddled her tiny body and leaned in close to stroke her face and give her a peck on the forehead. “Mama’s here now, child, don’t be afraid.”

Before the woman could even comprehend what was taking place before her eyes the man sat upright again, raised his right arm above his head, and brought it down with such force that it broke through the brittle ribcage of the girl and pulled out her heart. Blood splattered the woman in the face as she watched, unblinkingly as the heart continued to beat for a few moments before stopping and turning black and shrivelled in the man’s hand.

Finally she turned away and began to vomit. All that she managed to purge from her system was blood and bile. When she faced the blonde man again she saw that the room was no longer yellowed but clean and white; the bars on the window were gone as well. The most startling difference however was the lack of blood on the man himself.

“What’s going on?” asked the woman feebly.

“Here. Let me show you.” He turned and motioned to a vanity on the wall where the door had been. She stood up carefully and awkwardly made her way to the mirror. “I don’t see anything.”

“Are you sure? You have to realise that the only reason that you’re here is that at this particular moment in time you’re dead.”

In that very instant the woman watched as a scrape formed on her cheek and a bullet-hole slowly began to ooze dark blood down her forehead. Emitting an ear-piercing scream the world before her began to spin and blur together. Her scream echoed in her ears and slowly became a separate entity from her. Eventually she realised that she was laying on the pavement staring at the full moon, and that her echoed scream was no more than a police siren.  

[Trish the Stalker]

Chapter Two

The young woman lay on the pavement, her own blood pooling around her head. After a moment of gaining her bearings she slowly sat up, the sticky redness of her blood clumping her hair together. She was confused and disoriented so she stood, trying to find help. Off at the end of the alleyway there were flashing lights and the buzz of a police radio, and she began to walk slowly in that direction as blood dripped into one of her eyes - though she hardly noticed the sting. The walk to the police vehicle took minutes and it felt to her as if she were walking in a dream.

Eventually she made it within sight of the young police officer getting out of his car and he gave her a look of horror. What he saw was a woman with a few shreds of clothes hanging off of her limbs and a bloody hole in her forehead. “Ma’am, are you alright?” he said, face growing paler every second.

“I think… I need help.” Instantly she began to lose consciousness and the ground began to spin beneath her. What she saw in her last minutes of wakefulness was the ground swirling into a vortex of darkness as she sank downward into it.

The young police officer leaned forward to check her pulse, yelling at his partner seated in the car to radio for an ambulance. Her consciousness drifted somewhere away from her body, which was milky white and splayed out on the concrete, reflecting flashes of red and blue.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When she awoke she was in a bed. At first she thought it might be a hospital but quickly reassessed exactly what was going on. The sheets were a fiery red silk that seemed to even shimmer as if it were really a flame, and the bed was expansive, much larger than a hospital bed. The frame was wrought iron, and the head and baseboard were shaped like cage bars. She looked at the walls which were slate grey and windowless, the only like was from four elaborate candelabras, each placed in a corner.

As she tried to sit up she came to the frightening realisation that she had chains around her wrists, ankles, and her neck. She craned her neck as best as she could and could see that she was wearing a dress that was the same strange material as the sheets.

“I see you’ve found your way back.” Her pale eyes met the sharp blue ones of the blonde man from earlier. “I hope you are indeed comfortable.”

“Who are you?” her voice was weak.

“I am of no importance. But if you need a name to call me, Satan will do.” Her reaction was a mixture of disbelief and fear. “There’s no reason to be afraid, my Lethe. I‘m not hear to harm you.” He stroked her hair and electric desire filled her veins, this time she realised exactly what it was she was feeling: sexual desire.

“Then why am I in chains?” she pleaded.

"My dear sweet Lethe, I need to keep you from harming yourself. You can’t die while you’re here, mind you. But pain is unbearable when it occurs.”

“Where is here, exactly?” She pulled against her shackles.

“Some would call it Hell, I suppose. And don’t struggle, you’re safe. You don’t want to bruise yourself now.” He calmingly stroked her hair again, and she closed her eyes at his touch. “I need you to be safe and protected, my little one.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want you to be in the best of health when you regain consciousness. The bullet wound has caused some cerebral damage but you’ll be just fine. I promise you.” He kissed her forehead, she enjoyed it for a moment and then pulled away, gazing at him with ferocity.

“I don’t want to have anything to do with you.”

“Don’t you?”

“I refuse to bow down to you.”

“Bow down?” he laughed and the room shook slightly. “My dear, you’ve got this all wrong. I want you to bear my son into the world, it’s my turn to reign over the earth.”

Instantly she broke out into the Lord’s prayer, trying desperately to recall the words. This only incited a slight laugh from Satan, causing the room to vibrate again. “He can’t hear you down here you know.” He leaned in to kiss her on the forehead and she subconsciously aimed to kiss him on the lips, being overcome with the desire to be close to him.

“Now, now, little Lethe. Now’s not the time for that.”

She was driving herself mad inside, trying with all her heart to resist his advances but she couldn’t fight the need to be in close physical contact with him. “Why would you want your child to be human? Isn’t that what the fall was about, how much you hated us?”

Laughter filled the room, this time the wrought iron bed shifted slightly. “Hatred? You humans have it all backwards. I revel in your faults and follies. God claims that humans are good, even though they have free will and usually exercise it to do evil. I’m fascinated how He could have created something so vile. Souls are not meant to exist on earth, the physical corrupts it, and humans are proving it everyday to a God who is blind to it.”

“Why me?” She spat, trying to pretend that what he was saying was not true.

“Humans, as disgusting as they are, get another chance every time they ******** up their dreary little lives. God believes that they have the ability to change, and a few do. You, dear sweet Lethe are the last pure, uncorrupted soul on earth. Since it’s creation you have committed no sins.”

“Then why am I in Hell? I don’t belong here.” Sobs could be heard making their way up her throat.

“Well you see, Hell doesn’t exactly exist as a place so much as a state of mind. We are in the darkest depths of your own mind right now, a part of your brain that is rarely ever used by any human being, except seers and psychics and the like. Their minds are open to Hell and they can see what goes on beyond the waking world. You can even reach this area of the mind of others if you open the door. Of course when you’re unconscious this manifests in a way that your senses can understand. That girl you saw in the room before you brought yourself back, in the world you’re familiar with her heart gave out due to a drug overdose. What you see here is a behind the scenes of sorts where I can be as violent and cruel as I want to those who have given themselves to me and God can be as wonderful as he wants to those that are his.”

She turned away for a moment to think clearly. “You want me to bear your son. But why have you needed to bring me here?”

“I need a way of getting to earth, I will be leaving here with you and you will see me and recognise me when you’re conscious. In fact, I’m likely the only one you’ll recognise. You will come with me, away from what you used to know and we’ll be happy. You’ll see.”

The woman simply began to cry, having no thoughts on how to avoid her fate. The thought of spending the rest of her life with the prince of darkness terrified and thrilled her at the same time. He placed his hand softly on her cheek and instantly she knew she had no choice, and somehow didn’t mind anymore. She instinctively leaned over to kiss his hand.

“Thank you for your cooperation. However coerced it may be.” He smiled. “Our son will live and die on earth, breaking the thin barrier between hell and mankind. The final judgement will come with the Son, yes, but not the Son of God. Christ has died, risen and ascended. He’s done with man. It’s not a happy ending, my sweet.”

Tears streamed down her face but her carnal need to have him was winning out. “I’ll do anything for you.” The woman was no longer thinking about anything than her overpowering need to be with him.

“That’s good. I’ll see you in a little while, my pet. Now get some rest.” He stroked her hair and kissed her on the cheek and before long she found herself in a deep, dreamless sleep.  

[Trish the Stalker]

Chapter Three

A room with white walls and irritating florescent lights surrounded the young woman as she lay in a hospital bed. The first thing that she noticed was the sound of machines beeping and fans running less-than silently. Her eyes fluttered open, pale like the entire room. Barely able to move she did her best to take in her surroundings. A young man slept in a chair next to her bed, his dark locks falling over his eyes and matching stubble that looked like it had been growing wild for days. “Whe-” her dry throat managed to hoarsely squeeze out, “Where am I?”

Startled slightly awake by a break in the monotonous drum of machines the young man’s eyes opened slowly, sending a bloodshot gaze in her direction. His face was riddled with relief. “Honey… you’re awake,” he whispered as if any noise could send her back into a deep slumber again.

“Who… are you?” she looked perplexed by his seeming to know her.

“It’s me… don’t you remember?” this time his voice was slightly louder, if only riddled with a hint of heartbreak.

“I- I’m sorry. I have no idea who you are.” her empty stare met his green eyes which were quickly filling with sorrow.

“I’m Ryan, your fiancé.”

“I’m sorry… Ryan,” his name sounded foreign coming from her lips, “I don’t remember.” Tears began to well up in his eyes.

“Let me get a doctor, okay?” Ryan came close and reached for the hand that had not been hooked up to an IV drip but she pulled away, fearing a stranger’s touch. He just turned and left at a brisk pace.

After a moment he returned, doctor in tow. “I’ve also called your mother, it’s so good to see that you’re awake.”

“Listen, Miss Arlington, you may have trouble remembering things. That’s normal. Mr. Stiyosom you need to hear this too, but I’ll wait until Mrs. Arlington has arrived.” The doctor adjusted his stethoscope and stared at her from underneath a balding head of grey hair.

“Can I please at least let her know what happened to her?”

“I’m not sure that would be wise, Mr. Stiyosom.”

“I want to know what’s going on here!” the young woman cried, “I want to know why I’m here and who this man is!”

“Miss Arlington, please calm down. You’ve suffered considerable trauma to your hippocampus and occipital lobe. These are the memory and visual parts of the brain, respectively.”

Ryan’s face fell even further than it had already, “Does that mean she’s not going to remember who I am?” His voice reeked of hopelessness at this point.

“There’s no way to know for sure, only time will tell for sure.” The doctor then sighed, his face betraying the odds that the young woman before him would ever regain her memory.

“What happened to me? I have a right to know!”

“Honey… you were shot.” The doctor threw Ryan a dirty look but just shrugged and drifted to the back of the room.

“Shot?” her hands instantly flew to her forehead which was heavily bandaged, “No…”

“It was pretty serious. You’re lucky you survived at all,” he flashed a smile but his eyes never betrayed even a flicker of joy. Subconsciously his hand reached for hers and she pulled away again. It was then that she noticed the silver engagement ring on her finger, a single, shining diamond resting in the middle.

“I remember being shot… I think…” her mind drifted back to what she remembered of the last time she was conscious between her delirious dreaming. “Never mind, I don’t. I remember that I was though. I… had some very strange dreams though.”

“That could be as a result of low blood flow to the brain and trauma received by your occipital lobe. Near death experiences often trigger very bizarre experiences for people.”

“I don’t know… it seemed so… real.”

That instant an older woman walked through the door. “You’re awake! Oh my precious Sylvia! Come here…” she spoke softly as she reached the edge of the bed, beginning to embrace her daughter, tears streaming down her face “You’re alright.”

“Mom?”

“Yes dear?”

“You’re my mother?”

Instantly the woman retracted her embrace, “Of course, dear!” She then turned to the doctor, “What’s happened? Why doesn’t she know who I am?”

“I need the both of you to sit down. Listen to me, there has been significant brain damage, you should be glad that she’s even woken up at all - that she’s even alive. This young woman has survived something that very few people have. It may even be a blessing that she doesn’t remember the incident.”

“But I can’t even identify the person who shot me! How is that a blessing?”

“Sylvia, sh... it’s alright. You’re safe now. That’s all that really matters.” Her mother leaned in, attempting to calm her down.

“I’ll leave you three alone for now, I think that would be best. You can tell her what you like, but keep it simple. I’ll send a nurse in to supervise and make sure that she’s alright.” He left quickly, leaving them in isolation for a little while.

“Honey… Sylvia… there’s something very important you need to hear. I’m going to tell you what happened to you. You were alone at night and some young men found you and held you at gunpoint… then… they… well they…” Ryan quickly dissolved into a mess, unable to finish what he was saying.

“Sweetie, you were… taken advantage of. The noise alerted the nearby houses to call the police and the sirens must have spooked them into… into… well…” her mother motioned to her forehead, tears welling up in her eyes. “They have the… the samples and DNA on file but it doesn’t match anything on record. You’ve been asleep for weeks now and they still have no leads. There’s not much more we can do about it…”

By now Ryan had managed to collect himself, but it didn’t last long, “There’s one other thing… you’re… you’re…” this time the tears were profuse.

“Darling… I want you to listen to me closely…” As her mother spoke to her Sylvia was in a daze already, trying desperately to understand not only what had happened to her, but why. “You’re pregnant.”  

[Trish the Stalker]

~*Reserved for now*~  

[Trish the Stalker]

~*Reserved for now*~  

[Trish the Stalker]

~*Reserved for now*~  

[Trish the Stalker]

~*Reserved for now*~  

[Trish the Stalker]

~*Reserved for now*~  

[Trish the Stalker]

~*Reserved for now*~  

[Trish the Stalker]

~*Reserved for now*~  

[Trish the Stalker]

~*Reserved for now*~  

[Trish the Stalker]

~*Reserved for now*~  

[Trish the Stalker]

~*Reserved for now*~  

[Trish the Stalker]

~*Reserved for now*~