Bat Out of Hell

This is the second holiday story I have written, using as a plot device the 1977 Meatloaf album "

Bat Out of Hell

" with music and lyrics by the incomparable Jim Steinman. This story takes it name, from the titular song from the album, not the album itself.

As in the case of my previous BOOH story (

A Duet for Three

), this story is NOT a BTB story. I write this, knowing full well that some readers will read my disclaimer, read the story anyway, and then roast me because it is not a BTB story.

This story is copyrighted 2024 by the author known as Offkilter123. No part of this story may be used in any manner without the expressed written permission of the author.

TW: This story contains a scene of horrific violence in the opening section.

Bat Out of Hell

Twenty-Two Years Ago

The sirens are screaming and the fires are howling

Way down in the valley tonight

There's a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye

And a blade shining, oh, so bright

There's evil in the air, there's thunder in the sky

And a killer's on the bloodshot streets

Oh, and down in the tunnel where the deadly are rising

Oh, I swear I saw a young boy down in the gutter

He was starting to foam in the heat

Ten-year-old Amy Sykes and her brother, seven-year-old Chris were playing with Amy's Star Wars action figures in Amy's bedroom. The Star Wars figures had been one of Amy's Christmas presents; she and her brother loved playing with them, especially Princess Amidala and Anakin Skywalker. They loved all the characters except for stupid Jar Jar Binks. They made Jar Jar sit alone in his box and watch the other action figures have fun. Amy and Chris had been playing for a half-hour when the shouting began.

It scared them when mommy's and daddy's voices got loud; something that had been happening more and more frequently. They could hear what their parents were saying but did not understand what the words meant. But even as young as they were, they knew the words were not nice. Their parent's voices were raised in anger with each other and could clearly be heard by the children.

"You whore," their father shouted. "Danny Garcia? You're fucking Danny Garcia? You're fucking my best friend?! My fucking partner!?! How long have you been fucking him you fucking slut?"

"Fuck you, asshole! You haven't touched me in months, so what did you expect me to do? I wanted him and he wanted me. And he got me! In every way a man can take a woman, he took me!"

"How long, bitch? How long have you been spreading your whore legs for that miserable son-of-a-bitch!?"

"I've been with him long enough to know he's twice the man you are! And his dick is way bigger and touches places you've never come close to! So, fuck you! Go jerk off to your porn and leave me alone so I can get what I need from a real man!"

"Get the fuck out! Get the fuck out of my house!" their father screamed.

The children jumped at the sound of glass crashing.

"You limp-dick mother-fucker! That was my grandmother's vase!"

Chris cried, and Amy hugged her brother tightly as the voices raged through the closed door of Amy's bedroom.

"I told you to get your skank ass out of my house! And I mean right fucking now! Pack your shit and get the fuck out!"

"I'm taking my kids with me!" their mother shouted

"The fuck you are!" their father shouted back.

There was another crash and the pair could hear their mother cry out in pain. Chris began to rock back and forth as he clutched Amy's Chewbacca toy to his chest and sobbed, whimpering, "Mommy."

Amy hugged her brother and then pulled him toward her bedroom closet. They crawled inside, Amy closed the door, and they clung to each other in the darkness as they continued to hear shouts and crashes. Amy and Chris continued to hold each other and cry as they heard their parents fight. Eventually, the shouting subsided and after her brother fell asleep, Amy released her hold on him.

Amy did not know how much time had passed since she had last heard shouting from her parents but she knew that it had been a long time. Amy opened the door to the closet and crawled out of the closet and towards her bedroom door. She slowly opened the door and peeked into the hallway. Not hearing anything, Amy got to her feet and slowly made her way towards the front of the house. When she quietly entered the living room, she was brought up short by the mess. The Christmas tree had either fallen or been knocked over. Broken glass from shattered ornaments, decorations, and trinkets littered the hardwood floor making it impossible for Amy to enter the living room. Her mother was lying on the floor at the base of the wall and Amy wanted to go to her, but could not because of the broken glass. Amy saw a red spot on the wall above her mother and Amy could see that her mother's eyes were opened halfway and seemed to be staring directly at Amy.

Her father sat at the dining room table, his back to the living room with his head in his hands sobbing, his dark blue police uniform stretched tightly across his back and shoulders. Before Amy could ask him about her mother, he released a shudder followed by a sob that seemed to come from deep within his chest. As Amy watched, her father pulled his service pistol from the holster on his right hip. Amy saw her father raise the pistol and bring it towards the front of his head. She could not see what he was doing, but suddenly a noise exploded and a red mist seemed to envelop her father's head as it was thrown back before falling forward to land on the kitchen table as the gun fell from his right hand onto the floor.

Amy ran barefoot across the broken glass to her mother's side, leaving a trail of blood across the living room floor. Amy began to cry and wail and rock back and forth as she tugged on her mother's arm before noticing the kitchen knife sticking out of her mother's neck.

When the police broke through the front door, Amy was still screaming as she rocked back and forth tugging at her mother's arm.

Present Day

"So, Lee..." Dr. Harrigan began, "...something has obviously happened for you to request an emergency session. Would you like to jump right to it?" Hannah Harrigan was an attractive woman who underplayed her physicality because she knew that it could prove distracting to her male clients.

Lee Houck relaxed into the soft, buttery tan leather cushions of the office sofa that faced Dr. Harrigan's matching chair. He looked around Hannah's office and idly noted the Christmas decorations. Hannah had moved from Dublin to the United States with her parents when she was a small child. Due to her parents' influence, her Christmas décor was more European "Father Christmas" than North American "Santa Claus."

Lee ran his right hand through his shaggy blonde hair, closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly. Keeping his eyes closed, he said softly, "I caught her again."

"Are you saying that you caught your wife having another affair?"

Lee nodded his head.

"Last time you had pretty definitive proof. Were you able to get proof again?"

"I haven't seen her text messages this time, but how she's acting...It's just like last time. On her phone all the time, hiding her messages...same old cheater bullshit."

Hannah Harrigan sighed softly as her heart went out to her client. "Is your wife aware that you know about her latest infidelity?"

Lee shook his head no.

"Are you going to confront her this time?"

Lee shrugged his shoulders. "I guess that's why I needed to see you. I didn't confront her last time and I probably should have. If I had confronted her, maybe I wouldn't be sitting here today."

Hannah cocked her head to the side as she contemplated Lee's statement. "You don't know that. It's possible you could have confronted her, and you would find yourself in my office anyway. You can't beat yourself up over woulda, coulda, shoulda. You chose what you thought was the best course of action for your family at that time."

Lee nodded his head in agreement. "I thought handling it the way I did was for the best. It saved my marriage and took the asshole off the board."

"You were lucky," Hannah said. "You could have gone to prison," Hannah said.

Hannah and Lee had known each other since high school, although they were not friends then. Because of this nodding acquaintance, she had been reluctant to take Lee on as a client even though Hannah could not remember saying more than a half-dozen words to Lee during their four years of high school. Although friendly with all the cliques, Lee was more of a loner than a joiner. He was of average height, lean, and handsome but didn't date or play sports. He spent his time after school working in his father's business and eschewed the frivolity that was so much a part of the lives of high school students. Hannah, on the other hand, had been a cheerleader, vice president of the student council, and a star softball player for her high school. It was while playing softball for Texas A&M that Hannah discovered who she truly was when she met her future wife at her first softball practice as a freshman.

Hannah removed her glasses and looked disapprovingly at Lee. "If you're planning something like last time, then we're done. You'll need to find yourself a new therapist." Hannah looked at Lee with an intensity that caused him to shift uncomfortably in his chair.

"It could have been worse," he replied.

"Lee, a man could have died."

"If I wanted to kill him, he'd be dead. I wanted to hurt him a little. Okay, maybe a lot," he said with a slight grin at Hannah's raised eyebrow.

"But it worked. She ended her affair," Lee said. "Well, I guess technically, he ended it after our chat. He ghosted her because he was so terrified of me coming after him again."

"And he never told your wife about your 'chat'?" Hannah queried, using each hand's index and middle fingers to form air quotes.

Lee shook his head with a tight smile. "I was very persuasive."

"Her affair ended and you saved your marriage, yet here you are once again."

"Yes," Lee agreed. "Here I am once again."

"But you're not going to have a "chat" with this affair partner?" Hannah asked, again forming air quotes with her fingers.

Lee shook his head. "No. This time, I'm going to divorce her."

"That's a sad outcome. After all that you've undertaken to save the marriage, and now you have to end it. What are your thoughts about that?"

"It's such a waste. Our life together... Seeing my sons fifty percent of the time... Such a goddammed waste," Lee said bitterly.

"She's a damaged woman," Hannah said.

Lee nodded in agreement. "I knew that before I married her. I thought as long as I was there for her, supportive, and understanding, we could get through anything."

"Her trauma and her scars run deep. From what you've told me, she's made remarkable progress. But sometimes, it's impossible to heal completely. The scar tissue is the very thing that prevents healing."

"But I had to try," Lee said.

Hannah nodded her head in agreement. "For better or for worse."

"In sickness and in health," Lee added.

"But no more?"

"But no more," Lee agreed.

+++

Oh, baby, you're the only thing in this whole world

That's pure and good and right

And wherever you are and wherever you go

There's always gonna be some light

But I gotta get out, I gotta break it out now

Before the final crack of dawn

So we gotta make the most of our one night together

When it's over you know we'll both be so alone

When Lee entered the house from the garage through the kitchen, his wife Amy was sitting at the dining table drinking a glass of wine and scrolling through her iPad.

"Hi baby," Amy said with the big smile with which she always greeted her husband. "How was your day?"

Lee shrugged. "Another day," he grunted. Amy was beautiful as always. At five-nine and one-hundred-twenty-five pounds, Amy had the sleek, athletic body of the triathlete that she was. She ran, swam, and biked several times a week to stay in peak form. Her brunette hair was usually held in a ponytail and although she always looked good, Amy seldom applied more makeup than a bit of eyeliner and a light lip gloss. Unless they were going out for a date night, Amy generally dressed comfortably and casually in what she called "coastal chic." At thirty-two, Amy could easily pass for twenty-two; a fact that was made painfully obvious to Lee the last time he caught her in an affair. The scumbag had been a twenty-four-year-old personal trainer at her gym.

"What's wrong with you, Mr. Grouchy Pants?" Amy placed her iPad on the table and looked curiously at her husband. He had been distant for several days now, and she was beginning to get worried. Amy adored her husband and wanted nothing more than to make him happy and show how much he was loved and appreciated. She owed her husband more than he knew. More than she could ever repay.

Lee sighed and shook his head. "I'm okay. I promise. I just have a lot on my plate at work, and the holidays are always slow so that adds pressure. People want time off for the holidays but we need to stay staffed. You know how it is; we go through this every year."

Lee owned a chain of auto parts stores scattered throughout central Texas. The stores had been in Lee's family for three generations, and Lee was afraid that he would be the final generation of ownership. It was tough enough to compete with chain stores like AutoZone. Their buying power meant that Lee had to squeeze his margins and manage payroll down to the penny. Add to that a general slowdown in the automotive industry and Lee no longer enjoyed what he was doing or felt any passion toward the business. A small national chain had approached Lee about selling out and Lee was giving serious consideration to the offer. He had not mentioned anything to Amy about the possibility of selling off the stores. He was going to loop her in on the talks after Christmas but then he had discovered her latest affair and had tapped the brakes on any financial disclosure until he could speak with an attorney.

"I know, baby. You go through this every year. I wish there was something I could do to help you out." Amy looked at Lee sympathetically as she asked, "Do you want me to heat some leftovers for your dinner? I made spaghetti and meatballs for the boys."

Lee shook his head. "No, I'll fix a sandwich."

"I'll fix it for you. There's some roast beef left over from Sunday in the fridge."

"Thanks, Aims. I'm going to grab a quick shower."

As Lee walked through the living room, he noticed more presents under the Christmas tree than had been there this morning. It looked like Amy had been shopping today. He wondered if she was just using that as an excuse to slip away to see her new boyfriend.

Lee stuck his head in his son's bedroom and asked them how they were doing. The twins, Joshua and Connor were eight and in the third grade. They were both good-looking, whip-smart, and athletic. The thought of seeing them fifty percent of the time broke his heart. He had to duck out of their room before the boys saw the tears that sprang to his eyes.

Later that night, Amy had crawled into bed naked, a sure sign that she was in an amorous mood. Lee had thought about pleading exhaustion, but as Amy became more aggressive and began sucking his cock, Lee closed his eyes and let it happen. His wife had always been an exciting sex partner, in which nothing was off-limits to her husband. Amy loved oral sex, both giving and receiving, and together, they discovered that Amy loved anal sex. Lee used to wonder if Amy shared her complete sexual appetite with Drew Duncan, her previous affair partner. This brought up thoughts of Amy's current affair partner. Lee did not know the identity of her newest lover, but he would find out, and when he did...

Lee purged thoughts of his wife's infidelity from his mind as he lay back and enjoyed her ministrations on his erection. She crawled forward so that she was sitting on Lee's left thigh, gently rocking back and forth as she licked and kissed his nipples. Lee could feel the tickle of Amy's close-cropped pubic hair as well as the wetness of her slick center as she moved around on his leg. As Amy rose, Lee could feel the oily wetness on his thigh cool as it was exposed to air. Amy notched Lee's cock at her entrance and plunged downward, impaling herself. She leaned back slightly, keeping her arms slightly outstretched to her sides, palm down. She began to rock slightly, gliding along as if silently riding a wave, Lee's cock and her pussy acting as a pivot point as Amy closed her eyes and gently rode Lee to her first orgasm, their languid waltz giving way to a pas de deux as Amy began to move faster.

When her orgasm hit, Amy shuddered and began moving with increased intensity, their dance morphing from balletic toward jitterbug, the wet slapping sounds of their congress making a syncopated, irregular rhythm that stood in contrast to the easy, gliding sexual contact of Amy's first orgasm. When Amy came for the second time, she made a low keening sound which was Lee's go-ahead to orgasm.

As sex went, it was good. Very good, actually. But sex had never been their problem. Even when Amy was in the middle of her first affair, the only time their sex life declined was when Lee discovered her affair. The pain and emasculation that he felt upon discovering his wife's infidelity was debilitating. Lee had made excuses for not having sex with Amy for several weeks after his confrontation with Drew Duncan, but at some point, he had given in. Sexual frustration on her part and horniness on his led to a rousing night in bed. Lee had decided that for the sake of his family, he had to either let the affair go or divorce. He chose to let it go.

But he remained watchful.

And now he wondered whether this would be the last time they made love. He did not know how much longer he could pretend.

+++

Like a bat out of hell, I'll be gone when the morning comes

Oh, when the night is over, like a bat out of hell

I'll be gone, gone, gone

Like a bat out of hell, I'll be gone when the morning comes

But when the day is done and the sun goes down

And the moonlight's shinin' through

Then like a sinner before the gates of Heaven

I'll come crawlin' on back to you

Amy's legs were pumping hard, and the blood was pounding in her thighs as she pedaled the last two kilometers of the bike course. Her lungs gasped for air and her back muscles strained as she poured every bit of her energy into the final stretch. Despite the cool December day, sweat poured down her face.

"Nice ride," Ben said as Amy came to a stop next to him. "You looked great out there," he said with a wide grin as he checked her out. Amy was dressed in black bike shorts, a black racing top, and black racing shoes. As she hopped off the carbon fiber bike with its matte finish, Ben was struck by Amy's hotness. Without even trying, she exuded a feline sexiness that drove Ben to distraction.

"Thank you, kind sir," Amy smiled. Ben Powers had joined her training group three months ago and had quickly ingratiated himself with the group. He paid particular attention to the tall, gorgeous Amy Houck. His attempts at seduction had (thus far) been mildly rebuffed. Amy had always been polite, but she refused to engage in banter or joking around unless it pertained to their mutual interest in triathlons. Ben knew that her husband did not compete in triathlons but he had never met the man, and without knowing anything about Amy's husband, he had begun to think of him as a wimp for letting his beautiful wife pursue athletic competitions without him.