Part 9 of the Series Sarah of Salem
The house missed Gwendolyn. While strictly speaking, a house shouldn't have favorites, but she had been his. In over 350 years, she was his favorite. From the time the Lawson-Goode family had moved in, he felt a connection to Gwendolyn. She seemed to receive his impressions better than even Sarah did, and she loved to play with him. She'd sit on the stairs and beg him to move her. Sometimes, he would raise and lower the stairs, bouncing the little girl from one step to the next. Other times, he'd surprise her by tilting the steps to see her whoop in glee as she slid down the impromptu slide.
Other times, she'd try to sneak into a room, dramatically jumping in and yelling "BOO!" He'd jiggle cabinet doors and windows in mock fear, just to hear Gwendolyn giggle in joy. She was the most alive, happy child he'd ever known in his long existence.
As she had grown up into a graceful, elegant woman, who exemplified a joyful persona, she never lost her connection to the house. Even though the house would clean up behind its inhabitants, keeping the floors cleaned, the laundry in the hampers, and the bathtub cleaned, Gwendolyn always picked up after herself, keeping her room kempt and making sure her shoes were clean before entering the house. Small things, but to the house it showed she cared.
In high school, she'd talk to the house in her room, while doing homework or weeping over the boy who had broken her heart. She'd pour out her soul and wipe her tears with tissues that the house would bring within her reach. When the heartbreak was extreme, he'd deliver Jamoca Almond Fudge ice cream (her favorite) to help her over her pain.
Gwendolyn had vibrated with joy when she found her "One", the one who name we no longer spoke. He'd been tormented by Griselda during the Dark Valentine and found the memories too hard to bear. When he took his life, the house believed that he had also taken, in a large part, Gwendolyn's life. She was inconsolable.
The joyous girl who had won the house's heart, the social butterfly who always dressed in an exuberance of color, now had become a bitter spinster, who dressed like a nun in drab browns and blacks. Her one motivation in life was the uncovering and punishment of practitioners of the Black and Dark Arts, the evil side of magic. She no longer contacted her friends or enjoyed any social events, outside of family celebrations. She'd abandoned her friends and hobbies and rarely, if ever, smiled anymore. Her life was dedicated to ensuring that no one else would ever suffer as her lover had.
She no longer talked to the house or acknowledge his presence. The house itself felt like weeping, wondering what had become of that effervescent and bubbly soul he loved so much.
The poor girl was trapped in a well of misery, a bottomless pit of wretchedness and pain.
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Maddie, little prim Maddie. Never Medea, her real name; people just didn't think it fit the quiet, goody-good little witch. How she'd maintained that front her whole life amazed her. Whenever anything "bad" happened around her, she was always above suspicion. When animals were gutted and tacked up on a fence, no one ever thought of her, even when she had blood on her dress and was found standing next to the still mewling cat. She'd just let out the tears and pretended that she had been trying to save the "poor kitty."
She'd caused a caustic drain cleaner to splash two feet up in the air, into the eyes of her mean neighbor, Mr. Krantz. He'd seen her dancing nude in the moonlight, during the witching hour and had the nerve to suggest she service him or be exposed (even more so than on the lawn). He'd never see anything again, the bastard. She laughed, thinking that she'd enjoyed giving him what he deserved. And he never knew who'd done it and would never think of pointing a finger at her.
Teachers who were hard on her fell down the stairs or had cabinets fall down on them. Girls who thought to humiliate her ended up scarred from terrible bouts of acne or were cursed with crippling PMS. But she was careful. She was always friendly, smiling, comforting, caring little Maddie.
All the time, it was Medea, smiling cruelly.
Even as a child, she'd been touched by the Horned God, but other than feeling his glory when offering her sacrifices to him, she never had any tangible connection. It was Merlin that introduced her to his Power.
Her life was always what was expected of her. From what she'd read about sociopaths, she was one. She would observe society, see what people expected or respected, and act accordingly. She might be totally repulsed by the old farts at the old folks' home, but when her cover required her to show her caring nature, she would suck it up and wipe the drool from their mouths and listen attentively to their boring life stories, wanting to scream as they blathered on and on. But Maddie was given civic awards for her charitable works.
She'd married Jason (she'd picked him solely for the irony of the names) when that was the expected move when she turned 20. He was a fucking wimp, a medium grade good looking witch who was easily manipulated by her. Most of the time she didn't even have to use her craft -- he fell over himself to make her happy.
Which was something he could never do, because she made it a moving target to keep him off balance. That kept a level of anxiety in their relationship that made him easy to control. Little, unassuming Maddie, who wanted nothing but to please her husband, became impossible to please while getting credit for being undemanding. Sometimes she had Jason chasing his tail just for the entertainment value.
The only time she had to use her abilities with her husband was when she'd been stretched out of shape by her lovers and Jason wanted her body before she was ready. Then, no matter how "willing and ready" she would project as, Jason found he was having erectile disfunction. Even Viagra failed to solve his problem. One kiss from his "loving" wife and down it went. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at his disappointment and humiliation. Her being a "good wife", she always assured him that it was nothing; it happened to a lot of men.
It was nothing, all right. Her self-righteous, purity obsessed husband was literally nothing in bed compared to her growing coven.
And her husband was less demanding, now that little Millie was four. Millicent had been conceived on their honeymoon, since Maddie knew she would be expected to produce grandchildren for his and her parents. She'd decided to get it over with right away, and then forget about it.
It also made it easier to deal with Jason. While she subtly pushed away her oaf of a husband, he gravitated more and more to his Millie, lavishing his slavish love on his daughter. Now at four, she was his whole life. However, even as she pushed him away, jealousy tugged at Maddie over the sway her daughter's exerted on her husband.
But the little bitch would soon serve a greater purpose.
It was when she met Merlin that she really came into her own. She was ready to burst out of her "goody-goody" shell when she wandered into that restaurant bar and met "Murray". He'd targeted her right away as one of his offerings to the Horned God, but when her wards bounced his spells off her, he realized she would make a better ally than one of his soulless prostitutes.
She'd always had lovers, most who would never remember the sessions with her. Letting them remember would endanger her "Maddie" persona. Too soon for anyone to realize that she was truly Medea. Merlin was her first lover, besides Jason, who would be able to remember their liaisons. The church minister, the grocery bag boy, the neighbors, and the random women's groups would never know why they felt either strangely satisfied or soul-achingly humiliated, depending on how she had used them. Since her pleasure was tantamount, most of her unwitting lovers fell into the latter category.
Merlin introduced her more formally to the Horned One, showing her how to sacrifice and how to connect with him. They would call up their god before having sex and the Horned One would possess Merlin. Medea, for the first time in her life would be on the receiving end of either overwhelming sex or utter humiliation, depending on her idol's needs. She has now been used harshly, without any care for her sanity or well-being. Had she really been her persona of Maddie, she would have been reduced to a mindless, insane shell. But Medea was of stronger stuff -- she reveled in the evil nature of their sexual encounters and loved the pain and abasement.
With Merlin's help, she developed her own coven of twelve acolytes for the Horned God. It had taken time, almost a year, to find and develop all twelve. Several men had disappeared, killed and disposed of, when they proved unable to host the Horned One on Medea's altar.
Her altar, her body. The Horned One would possess his acolytes, sometimes one, sometimes more at oce, and use Medea according to his need. She was pummeled and stretched, as he forced himself many times at once on her. At times it hurt; most times she felt humiliated, in sick, wonderful ways. But she always gloried in the power and climatic pleasures that only her demon lover could provide.
It started with one disciple, possessed by her demon god. Then, two, three and five. That resulted in a setback, a shell that couldn't contain her god. He had literally exploded and their orgy had continued with his blood and bits lubricating their movements.
Then it was six, eight and nine. Another setback. The Horned God seemed to revel in those, and Maddie suspected that he forced the weaker shells to fail. It was only his need for a portal that kept him from repeatedly having a failure occurring with each celebration of worship.
Finally, after a year, they had twelve strong disciples. Her coven was complete. As the Horned One possessed all twelve at once, her body was used as never before. Her evil aura glowed dark and ominously. This was to be the last sexual prelude before the final sacrifice.
Now on the day before Samhain, she would have her last orgy, and the sacrifice would be made to allow the Horned God access to his new domain.
She screamed out her glory and her climax.
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Jason was a loving man, and he had loved his wife, Maddie, for the last five years. It was his nature to dedicate himself to those he loved, but it was obvious to him that his wife was distancing herself from him.
Worse, since birth, she hardly acknowledged their wonderous daughter, Millie. His heart swelled just thinking of his child, but Maddie... Well, he'd seen Maddie be almost oblivious to the girl. He was the one who fed, cleaned, clothed, and held the girl when she was hurt or tired.
Oh, Maddie made all the proper moves and said all the proper, loving, motherly things... when there was someone watching. But while she was usually careful even around Jason, he noticed those times when she thought she was alone. Then, other than giving the girl a nasty look, Jason could see that the girl didn't even exist for his wife.
When he was bathing Millie during the last week of October, he was startled to see a raised rune on her back. He asked her about it, but Millie just shrugged, unaware of the mark. He took a picture of it with his phone, then after hearing his wife come into the house, called her to look at it.
