Latin II: Miss Congeniality
Mandy sat on a lounge chair at the public pool. Her dark, one piece bathing suit seemed out of place among the risqué bikinis most of the younger women wore. Her pale skin was red and even practically bathing in sun screen had done little to protect her over the last three afternoons. It had been dreadfully boring and unfulfilling, but all that changed when she saw Stewart's pick-up roll into the lot. It was followed by Christy's red mustang and Julia's black beemer.
"Bout fucking time," the thin blonde said under her breath.
The "in" clique had finally arrived. Mandy dove into the pool to rinse some o fthe oily lotion off. She then climbed out and gathered up her bag making her way towards the locker room. She slipped in and took a seat on one of the wooden benches, absently toweling off. There were several women in various states of dress in the room and neither Christy nor any of her friends noticed her. They were laughing, joking and horsing around as they disappeared into the dressing rooms.
Christy was the first one out. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a pony tail and the red string bikini showed off her bronzed skin, long legs, pert breasts and flat tummy. Mandy paid particular attention to the locker the tall girl chose. She then made her way to the ladies room and furtively smoked a Marlboro in one of the stalls. Checking her watch when she finished, she lit another and smoked it down to the filter.
Only after she was reasonably sure they had all gone out did she emerge into the nearly deserted locker room. Mandy headed back to the lockers and glanced in both directions. The only one left in the room was a middle aged woman trying to get herself and her daughter out of their suits. The kid was squalling and raising hell and the woman looked harried and tired. Mandy decided she was too preoccupied to be paying attention to her and reached into her bag.
Mandy pulled out the small set of bolt cutters and easily snapped the cheap lock on Christy's locker. She returned the tool to her bag and glanced back at the woman. She was still fighting to get a shirt on her daughter. Mandy opened the locker, and quickly located what she wanted. She wasn't a bit surprised to find Christy wore a thong. Mandy stuffed the red satin garment into her bag, and made her way out, smiling sympathetically at the woman as she passed.
***
Mandy sat in her protection circle and watched the strange creature she had summoned as it tested the bounds of her circle. It looked like a cross between a blood hound and a bat, with leathery black wings and a shaggy, molted pelt.
"Mistress called?" it finally said.
Well, said wasn't exactly correct, it didn't really make a sound, but Mandy could hear its thin, reedy voice in her mind.
"I did."
"What does nice mistress want?" it said in an ingratiating way.
Rather than reply, Mandy drew Christy's panties from her jean pocket and tossed them outside the circle. The creature moved to them and began to snuffle at them. Mandy waited impassively as the creature got the scent and then let out an eerie baying.
"I want her will," Mandy commanded.
"It will be as you wish, mistress," the hell hound promised before bounding down the rickety stairs in a flash.
***
Christy was having a nightmare. It was even more horrible because she knew it was a nightmare and she couldn't make herself wake up. She was running through the woods, being chased by something she couldn't see. She could hear it though, not just the popping of brush and the rush of feet, but an insane, demented braying, like a bloodhound on someone's trail in the movies.
The trees whipped her face and the branches clutched at her night shirt. She tripped over unseen roots and rocks, often crashing to the ground. Her knees were scraped and bleeding, as were her elbows. Her face was welted and her nightshirt was gone when she emerged from the deep woods into a clearing.
Christy felt horror even deeper than the dread of being chased when she recognized the old Yokam place. The trees twisted obscenely in a dry, foul smelling wind. The door gaped open like a waiting maw, and the glassless windows stared at her with carnal hunger. She could feel it, even if she couldn't explain it.
Behind her, they baying rose to a hellish crescendo, but she couldn't make herself take one more step towards that house. Something crashed through the brush behind her and she whirled, to face a creature from nightmare. Red eyes, a black, molted coat, leathery bat wings. Part of its skull was rotted away, and she could see maggots writhing within the wound. It had a rat tail and the back legs of a swift hound, but dangling between its legs was an all too human penis.
She gagged as the charnel stench of it overwhelmed her and involuntarily took a step backwards.
"Wake up!" she cried, but her voice was lost in the now howling gale.
It advanced on her, and she retreated, step by step. When she passed through the broken gate and into the yard she realized she was moving towards the house, which was still more horrible than this thing.
Christy tried to move left, but it darted into her path and snapped its loathsome jaws. She felt flecks of its putrid saliva spatter on her bare hip and it burned like a branding iron.
She tried turning right, but again it was there, moving so fast it hurt her eyes to try and follow and again the grotesque jaws snapped shut. No matter where she turned it was there, like a sheep dog, herding her towards the door. Eventually, she was backed up to the sagging porch.
Caught between the horror of the house and the terror of the beast, Christy whimpered as she backed into the darkened doorway. It followed her through the door, herding her up the rickety stairs and into the small attic.
Christy found herself in a room with a low ceiling, lit by several candles. Seated in a small circle was the school dyke, Mandy Richardson. For a moment, wonder that Mandy could make it into her nightmares overrode even the fear. For a moment only, though. The creature followed her up the stairs and she saw no exit from the room. It backed her up against the far wall, but stood there, neither moving, nor growling, nor snapping at her.
Christy looked past the creature to see Mandy place a small silver box on the floor, on the outside of the circle she sat cross-legged in. The creature seemed to be growing in size and she started to scream, but no sound came. Horror beyond horror washed over her as she saw the creature wasn't growing, she was shrinking. Getting smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until its claws seemed Cyclopean monuments cast in basalt.
Her screams finally came, as it seized her in its jaws and gently carried her over to the box. It dropped her inside and the light faded as the tiny top was closed.
***
Christy's eyes flared open to see her mother's concerned face. She tried to speak, but her throat was painful and the sound that came out resembled more a croak than her voice.
"It's okay, baby. You just had a bad dream," her mother said in a soothing voice.
Christy nodded, but unlike past nightmares, the images didn't fade. She shivered and was bathed in sweat and eventually her mother called Doctor Sheppard. He arrived, examined the terrified girl and gave her an injection. The world became fuzzy and Christy faded out as the old man gently patted her hand.
By morning, the dream had faded, leaving only the vague impression she had lost something. Something important, but that she couldn't think of. Her voice was still hoarse and she decided to skip school. It was late in the year and nothing important was going on.
A day spent lounging on the sofa, watching TV and being pampered did wonders and by Tuesday morning she was back in school.
Everything seemed fine until she bumped into Mandy in the hallway outside Mrs. Moran's English class. Seeing the thin butch brought the dream back to her with such terrifying vividness Christy found her self shivering.
"You look like you've seen a ghost, are you all right?" Mandy asked.
Christy tried to speak, tried to say she was fine, tried to push the image of the girl sitting in that circle and watching her. She barely managed to stammer out a few incoherent syllables.
"Just uncomfortable? Probably that bra you're wearing. I bet it itches like crazy," Mandy said quietly and slowly, enunciating each word before slipping past Christy and into the classroom.
Christy cocked her head and scowled, what a strange thing to say. She moved into the room when Julia and Stew and the others arrived and took her accustomed seat. They were laughing and joking when the bell rang and Mrs. Moran wobbled into the room. She was wearing five inch stilettos today, with black seamed stockings, knee length black skirt and a long sleeved turquoise silk top, with the top two buttons undone.
She looked good, if perhaps just a bit over dressed for a school teacher, but she seemed to have discovered earlier in the semester she was a woman. All the kids noticed, it would be hard not to. Dour, frumpy Mrs. Moran was now one of those teachers the guys privately talked about banging in the locker room.
She was looser, easier, less prone to bite than to listen and her penchant for hours long homework assignments seemed to have departed with the ugly dresses and support hose. She smiled more and was a regular at the local ladies only health club. She hadn't issued anyone demerits in over a month and there was a running pool on how long it would last.
As she began her lecture Christy felt an itch behind the point where her bra closed. Rubbing her back on the chair seemed to help a little, but soon it was itching where the straps rode on her shoulders. She surreptitiously began to scratch. Before she knew it, the cups were itching, causing acute embarrassment as she was forced to again and again scratch.
"Miss Coburn, is there a problem?" Mrs. Moran asked, suddenly.
Christy was mortified, but quickly thought up a response.
"Yes Ma'am, this shirt is new and I think I am having an allergic reaction to it."
