Radley's Home for Horny Monsters, Annabelle Hawthorne [howl and other poems TXT] 📗

much like a child. The goblin is really just repressed teenage sexuality, which is why she speaks like a child, but interacts with you intimately as an adult.” Another intake of air, and a steady exhale. “The banshee represents the death of your mother, your inability to come to terms with the fact that you will never receive closure from her. Freud could speak volumes on your relationship with her. And the statue represents the bystander effect, years of frustration with those who watched the abuse but never stepped in to help you.”

“What about the house? It has secret doors, and caves, and oh shit, I forgot to mention the Labyrinth! A minotaur stole Tink’s goggles, and-”

A cough interrupted him. “In all honesty, Michael, I think the best thing would be for you to part with this home and return to Seattle. Obviously something there has triggered several dormant psychoses that will only serve to divide your mind further from reality.”

“No.” Mike trembled, nearly shouting into the phone. “No, it was all real, it had to be!”

“Denial is the first stage of grief, Michael.” Another puff. “When you have reached acceptance, you know where to find me.”

“Fuck!” Mike swore at the phone and tossed it out of the tub, where it clattered across the floor. If he really had lost his mind, what was the next step? Frustrated, he turned on the faucet and let the warm water lull him to sleep, dreams of Naia circling in his head.

LOOKING OUT THE BACK window, it occurred to him that what he had gained in the last couple of days had made the world bright and wonderful. Now, however, the world seemed dirtier, like its color had been rinsed away.  His breakfast was uneaten on the table, and his computer still wouldn’t boot up. He was unaware how long he had been sitting there, couldn’t even remember getting out of bed, much less putting on clothes and coming down the stairs.

The doorbell rang, but Mike ignored it. Something inside him had broken, a fragile something had cracked apart, taking with it years of healing. Naia, Tink, Cecilia, and Abella were gone, had probably never even existed. He was reminded of his mother after his father’s death, an emotional wound that had become cancerous, poisoning her very being. How could he cope with a loss that wasn’t real? How could he move forward and seek happiness that he had only found in his imagination?

The doorbell rang again, twice. Rolling his eyes, he stood up. He really hoped it wasn’t Dana-that girl freaked him out too much. Or Beth. Or anybody human for that matter.

Opening the door, he found it hard to muster any enthusiasm for the woman standing on his porch. She wore a black dress that clung to her body like ink, and her dark hair was shot through with red highlights. Thigh high, black leather boots disappeared beneath the hem of her skirt, and her hips were cocked to one side, accentuating the curve of her ass.

“Hello, Mr. Radley.” Her voice was a purr, dripping with sensual undertones. “I was wondering if I could have a word with you.”

“Sure, I guess.” He let her in the house. She eyed the grandfather clock, or rather what was left of it. He hadn’t bothered cleaning up.

“My name is Lily.” She offered her hand, which he shook. “Oh my, you have a strong grip! Do you work out?”

“Not really. Can I help you?” His eyes were on the landing up above, hoping for the tell-tale sounds of splashing. He couldn’t fight the nagging feeling that he had missed something, a crucial detail that would help him figure out what had happened.

“Right, well, I’ve come as a representative for the Historical Preservation Society. I was hoping we could talk about the house.” She smiled, walking away from him into the front room, her ass swaying dramatically with each step.

“I don’t remember you from the website,” he told her, following close behind. He couldn’t help but stare at the numerous buckles that were on her boots. Ordinarily, they were for show and a zipper could be seen on the back, but that didn’t seem to be the case here.

“What website?” She smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, right. For the Society. I’m on there. I’m the Head of Community Outreach. I take care of potential problems with new acquisitions, that kind of thing.”

“Look, I don’t know how to tell you this, but the house isn’t for sale.”

“Oh? Why not?” Lily crossed her arms, pressing her breasts upward. She threw her shoulders back, pushing them forward even more.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not selling.” Mike shook his head. “I told those other two the same thing when they dropped by.”

“I assure you that I’m the only one who has dropped by, Mr. Radley.” The gap between them had closed, and he realized he was staring at the crease between her breasts. His mouth was suddenly dry, his heart beating faster. “As for acquiring the house, instead of a sale, maybe we could come to another arrangement?”

“I’m not sure what that arrangement would be. I intend to live here.”

“Maybe let me organize a field study? Have some of the others come here, check things out. They’ve been dying to see the inside, but the estate company wouldn’t let them in.”

“I’m not sure how that will help,” Mike said, realizing how close she stood. The way her dark eyes sparkled was overwhelming. “I mean, letting people in won’t really give them what they want.”

“But it would give me what I want.” Her voice was husky, her dark red lips suddenly all he could see. “All I need is a start, a foot in the door.” A slender finger touched him and drew tiny circles on his chest. “Maybe it sounds strange, but I would be eternally grateful.” The way she said eternally sent chills down his spine, but his cock was reacting to her touch. Despite his