The New Sanning Promise

Chapter Six

The Doc was smiling like an idiot when she found him walking home alone. "Harper!" she shouted from down the street. "Harper, hold up!"

It was getting dark, and a little chilly. The last of the late November light scarcely touched on his face, but Sabrina could tell that he was beaming as she ran to catch up with him. When he turned to her, she caught the evidently permanent erection in his pants once again, and a brief memory of how it looked in the open popped into her head. Pushing that away, she planted her feet in front of him and got to the point.

"Are you serious?"

"I'm not really known for my humor," he said, his expression calming into a polite grin.

"What you said about Henning. You think he's fucked up, right?"

Harper shrugged. "I barely know the guy but he seems like a total phony to me."

"It's a lot worse than that," she said. "Trust me. What are you doing this Thanksgiving?"

"Same as anyone else, I suppose. Why?"

"Come to my house," she said. "I want your help with something."

Harper raised a patronizing hand and started to turn, walking away before even finishing his thought. "No offense, you're chill and stuff. I just don't want to get wrapped up in a prank war. The wall was fun and all but -"

"Dude, I will literally suck your dick if you help me get revenge on that asshole."

He stopped on the sidewalk, chuckling as he turned back to her. "What?"

Sabrina caught up and stood even closer, craning her neck up to look at him. She had to give the attitude like it was a favor for him... but under a lie detector she'd fail to hide her attraction. Standing beneath him felt a lot like when she met Zack. Only this time, the guy was

already

a square. Brandon Harper wore green slacks and button up shirts. He had a well groomed haircut and a smooth shaven face. He didn't have the expressive look that Zack did, or the stage presence or the musings of a rebellious young man.

But Zack didn't either. He was wearing all that like a costume.

Brandon Harper didn't need to dress that way to tell the world to go fuck itself, it seemed.

"I said that if you help me, I will get on my knees and blow you."

Brandon pointed a finger, pressed it lightly against her forehead, and pushed her back. She whipped a hand at his wrist, knocking his touch away, and stepped back. Harper chuckled and said, "That's all it takes for most guys, huh? I'll pass."

"He deserves it!" Sabrina shouted. "He's evil! He-"

"Deserves what, exactly?" Sabrina was chasing him now, her stubby legs plodding on to keep up with his long strides.

"To get cucked in front of the whole town. To have his dignity shattered into pieces."

"So your plan is to have me fuck his wife in front of the whole town? And how would I do that exactly?"

He had to stop when she jumped in front of him. "I know what you are," she said. "You're just like him."

"Ah, so I

also

deserve to have my wife fucked in front of the whole town?"

She gritted her teeth and nearly growled at him. He looked like a kiss-ass nice guy but he was talking to her like she was beneath him. "You're a... whatever! You fuck with peoples' heads! You get that cunt Lana Moore to stroke your dick whenever you want because you can make her believe anything you say!"

That killed his smile at last. He looked around, hoping no one heard, and motioned his head for her to walk beside him. "Okay. I was planning on easing into this topic but this is probably just as good."

"So will you do it?"

"Listen, Sabrina. I want to make something abundantly clear. I'm not like Henning. I'll admit something really fucked up is going on, but I am not

like

him, okay? And if you ever say that again I will cut you out."

She stepped in closer to his arm and lowered her voice to an inquisitive murmur. "Cut me out of what?"

"The plan," he said. "The one you've now stumbled your way into."

"Well I was thinking -"

"Not out here, genius," he barked. "I know you've never worked with an accomplice before, but you should know you don't go spouting schemes out in the open."

"Sorry," she heard herself say, instantly regretting it.

"You're all right. We'll go to my house and talk there. Less risk of any zombies hearing us."

Zombies...

the term almost made her laugh. It was an apt way to describe how Henning's spell had taken over the whole town. "Okay. But you get what I mean, right? He's evil."

"He's evil," he echoed. "Let's think of something small but effective. And after that we'll have a nice long talk about whatever the fuck is going on here."

**********

The truth was that he had no plan. The truth was that Sabrina Keary terrified him.

Something just came naturally to Brandon when speaking to her. He'd never really spent much time around a woman of her type before. The brooding all-in-black counter culture type. There were stereotypes he knew, but meeting one in the flesh was of course different. He did not know how to talk to her. But somehow, he

did.

He'd been with Melanie just moments before, articulating clearly and feeling perfectly relaxed. Yet the moment Sabrina caught his attention, his mood shifted. Not to distaste, but rather to disinterest. And he

knew

that would draw her in. He just didn't know how he knew.

When he invited her into his home, he let her march directly upstairs to his bedroom, where a brand new bed frame was finally assembled. He'd lingered for a moment to talk to his mother, saying, "She's a little upset about something and I offered to listen. Could you get me a glass of water to bring to her?"

"Of course, dear."

He could imagine how odd it might look for him, a fresh faced doctor, to bring home a Sabrina Keary. Then again, Mr. and Mrs. Harper seemed to notice fewer and fewer things as odd.

When he joined Sabrina in his bedroom, she was inspecting what little there was to see. The color of the sheets, the shirts hung in his closet, the signed Aaron Judge baseball in a plastic cube, sitting unplaced on the windowsill. She did not look impressed. While her eyes were off him, an idea came over him and he quietly downed much of the small glass in his hand to make the water look properly portioned.

He swilled it in his hand, looking at her when she turned back to face him. The performance was just right, because she asked, "What, no mixer?"

"Always straight," he answered. And he downed the rest like a smooth shot, leaving no grimace on his face but gently clearing his throat to help with the illusion. He could have sworn her eyes drifted down after that. Then she hopped onto the bed, and thankfully it did not break this time.

"I don't know where to start," she said. "I have questions."

"I bet," he said, placing the glass gently on an empty bookshelf. "Sorry in advance if I don't have much for answers."

Her feet were kicking in the air, and she leaned forward. She was small as well as young, though the healthy flesh on her gave her an extra year or two in appearance. The sun was almost down, and the last of the light gave her already orange hair a bright glow through the window. "What the fuck are you?"

"I don't know," he said. "I just know that everyone in this town believe everything I say. Except for you."

"How do I know that?"

"Ask me a very simple question," he said. "One you definitely know the answer to. I'll lie."

"What's my name?" she asked.

He remembered Kim Sinnitz, on her back in his office, taking the whole length of his cock as she relearned her own name. She was Katie now. And she would be until told otherwise. "Your name is... Danica," he said, unable to think of anything else. His mind was swimming with that pleasurable memory, so he was just glad something came through at all.

"Nope," she said. "Great, so it's the same with you. Henning can't fuck with me either."

"Yeah. I'm relieved about that. I really have to watch what I say around everyone. Easy for accidents to happen," Brandon sighed.

"Sure," Sabrina scoffed. "I'm sure Lana's mouth on your dick was just a slip of the tongue."

They talked about that for a moment. How Sabrina had spied. How Brandon had fed Lana a lie just to make her stop hating Sabrina. How she was just like everyone else in town - remorseless over what had become of Mrs. Keary.

"He turned my mother into the town whore," Sabrina said. "He's never said why but I know it's his way of trying to make me give up and be like everyone else."

"What exactly does that mean?" Brandon asked. But he already knew.

"He wants to fuck me," Sabrina seethed. "And when he does, I'm done. I'll believe anything. He could probably turn me into fucking Nancy Reagan if he wanted to. And he won't let my mom go until that's done."

"But he's never..." Brandon let the question present itself unspoken.

"No," Sabrina sighed, letting her shoulders relax. She hopped off the bed and walked to the window, seeing the Moore house and then shaking her head. She sat on the floor back against the wall. "No force, thank fuck."

"Good. I didn't think so but... good."

"What I want to know," Sabrina mumbled, "Is how he got everyone in the whole fucking town. I don't think he's into men, but they're just as easy to believe anything he says. I don't know, maybe he

did

fuck literally everyone around here. 'Cept me and Jarowski."

"Yeah," Brandon said. "I've been trying to figure things out with Mel."

"Any insight?"

Just that there's a whole bunch of us running around this world, mind controlling the people who take our cum into their bodies,

he thought. But he filtered that, and omitted it for now. "We're not any closer to an answer. What I

can

say is that I had no idea I was like this until just a few days ago."

"What,

you've

never fucked?"

She said it with a mild disbelief. Brandon couldn't tell whether she'd meant that as an insult, pegging him for a virgin, or as a statement of surprise, complimenting him in some subtle way. He thought he saw her eyes drift again.

"Never raw," he said brazenly. Unlike himself. And even more unlike himself, he added, "No one's felt worth it."

"What do you mean?" Sabrina asked. Now she was genuinely curious. And the concept of his words had already formed on his lips before his mind could even comprehend.

"You know all that rhetoric out there about self love?" he started. "I believe in that. And I think a lot of men out there will just flop their dicks anywhere and everywhere because they have no standards or self respect. Well, women figured it out. Be picky, and let it happen with someone good. Someone who

earned

it. You follow?"

"So you fuck," she smirked. "But no one won the prize yet?"

"Right," he said. "Lana was a bit spur of the moment. I didn't even realize I wasn't dreaming."

Sabrina frowned then, but he didn't apologize like the voice in his head was suggesting. That wouldn't do a damn thing. And furthermore, he wasn't sorry. But he could tell that she hated Lana, and that's what was really bothering her. If he'd happened to have fucked Misty first, maybe she would have laughed instead.

And he wasn't going to mention how he'd fucked Misty already.

"So you're a noobie," Sabrina said, standing and walking to meet him in the center of his bedroom. Now she was openly examining him like a scientist observing a wild animal. "Does he know?"

"Yeah," Brandon said. "He figured out I'm immune, and he pieced together me and Lana." And here, Brandon began to lie. Not the way he could with the rest of the town, perfectly and gracelessly. To Sabrina he had to really lie, and really sell it. Something he had no good experience with. It came to him naturally.

"He's furious. But he doesn't know what to do. He told me to stay away from Melanie Jarowski and Sabrina Keary."

"He did?" Sabrina said, her green eyes shooting up to meet his.

"So of course the first thing I did was go see Mel."

"Oh," Sabrina nodded. "And were you going to come see me next?"

"If you hadn't found me first."

Her penciled eyebrows furrowed. "Then why were you brushing me off like an asshole?"

Brandon shrugged. "Thought you might not be ready to handle all this. I don't know you."

"Well I

can

handle this." She was getting riled up, defensive. She stepped closer to him. He could smell the makeup on her face and the lack of perfume that would cover it up. The sun was set now, and the room was getting dark. He stepped around her and walked to the corner to turn on a lamp.

"I mean it," she huffed.

"Okay," Brandon said. "Then I'll be straight with you. I'm not following along with any teenage level pranks. I want answers, not revenge. So if you want to humiliate him, keep on trying. Looks like it's been going great so far. But

I

am going to figure some things out. Starting with how the fuck Henning managed to control the whole town. So make your choice. Keep pulling little stunts with dildos and spray paint, or get real and find some answers with me."

She was scowling. And she was quiet. And a long time passed. He could've heard a pin drop across the house. They just stared at each other, two lost people in a town of crazies treating each other like reluctant adversaries turned allies. The longer they stared, the more he could feel her resolve break down. Her arms dropped and her expression turned from annoyance to sadness.

"Doc..." she said, her voice shaking. "Are you sure it's sex?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"Okay," Sabrina nodded, now holding back tears. "Then I want you to know... that I believe I need to have sex with you for my own protection."

He became speechless watching as a tear started to roll out of each of Sabrina's eyes. "I want to feel safe again," she said. "But I'm going to earn it."

And then she left. And Brandon breathed again.

**********

Fuck... oh fuck yes... yes...

Brandon's lips had tasted like heaven in the flesh. Melanie's rather insatiable lust in the last few weeks had been something to behold, no doubt. And in the last few days it was nice to feel it change somewhat, from a desperation for an old flame into a hopefulness for a new, good man. But his kiss had started a fire and fed it a lifetime of kindling.

She was masturbating in her art studio, as usual letting her hand furiously circle its way around her clit. The electric feel of their lips touching, coupled with that unforgettable taste, bounced around her entire body as little waves of pleasure pulsated from her self pleasuring. She was even smiling, letting little moans escape her throat and soon letting them turn into girlish giggles.

Am I pathetic for this?

she wondered.

He literally told me he needed to fuck other people for a while. But...

but that one kiss would mean more to her than a thousand of his orgasms given to other women. He had to be a part of the dream she'd had. The one that brought her to this strange place so far removed from the rest of the world.

"God, his cock must taste amazing..." she whispered. And she was surprised to hear herself say it aloud. But she wasn't embarrassed. She only rubbed faster, and let the next wave build into a tidal wave that crashed and roared and ushered a powerful orgasm.

As her body settled from an aftershock of pleasure, Melanie gently sucked on her fingers and smiled, a content woman. There was an aura of magnetism and peace around Brandon, and she felt immeasurably safer with him around.

She fell asleep on the couch in her studio, still half clothed and sweating.

And she dreamt an unsettling dream.

Melanie was in liminal space, both comfortable in her own home and floating high above the world. In the shadow of the Earth she looked down at the dark land below and saw not the countless little likes of American cities, but only a handful of large, singular lights scattered around.

Directly below her, she saw two. One was larger than the other, and cold. It illuminated nothing but itself with a blue-white textureless hue. The other was thousands of times smaller, sitting directly beside it and yet outshining the larger. Its light was a dancing tungsten much like a candle flame.

Brandon,

she felt. The light

felt

like Brandon.

But there were others, far spread out around the country. And even vaguely, she thought, she could see the hints of some over the horizon, across the ocean to the east.

A few dotted New England. Another set were gathered around Chicago, or what Melanie assumed was Chicago without the help of drawn borders. But out west, a light shined from the coast so brightly she thought it might be the sun. Only the sun never felt so sickly.

Melanie's body started to sink out of the sky and toward the western light. Like the large one beside Brandon, this one was textureless and consuming. She tried to swim against its pull, to keep herself afloat high above the clouds. But it kept pulling, and pulling. Clouds began to swirl around it, and vaguely Melanie thought that she could see other things being pulled in toward it. Other

people

.

A scream built in her throat but could not release. Her neck felt as though it were ballooning with air pressure like a steam pipe. And she was falling into the massive green light sitting at the coastline.

When it swallowed her, Melanie jolted awake and sat up in her dark art studio, her fearful scream finally escaping her body. She was breathing heavily, now from fright. And she knew.

"Charlie."

**********

"Brandon!" Rude knocking at his door. "Brandon, wake up!"

Brandon shot out of bed, pulling the sheets with him to cover his morning wood, and letting the lingering dream of Melanie's kiss fade from his mind. He opened his bedroom door to both of his parents standing there with smiles on their faces.

"What, what's going on?"

His father pushed the telephone in to his hand. "Tiffany's coming to stay."

Brandon put the phone up to his ear. "No kidding?"

"No sir," his little sister Tiffany chirped on the other end of the call. "I'm leaving this crazy behind and comin' back to the states. You're stuck with me once again."

"When's the flight?"

"I'm stuck here for like twelve more hours and you'll probs see me tomorrow," she sighed. He could hear how tired she was, but even when she was frustrated Tiffany always managed to keep a little bit of her sense of humor. Enough to say "probs."

"Cool," Brandon yawned.

"Did Mom and Dad just wake you up for this?"

"Li'l bit."

Tiffany snorted. "Well you better be excited tomorrow, jackass. You and me's gonna paint the town red when I get there."

"Not really a paint-worthy spot," he grumbled. "But we can give it a shot."

"Fine we'll paint it from grey to a slightly redder grey. Get your pants on and go to work."

And that he did. New Sanning got a little bit colder every day as they approached Thanksgiving. But as he strolled out of the house after a quick breakfast, he still saw the same casual summer attire on everyone he passed by. The town center was chock full of shorts and sundresses, even though the day was chilly and overcast. He had to wonder if that was Henning's doing.

He also had to wonder about Sabrina. About what she was going to do to "earn" him. About why he handed objected at all. Did he really mean to go through with the plan, to seduce and own her? The more he replayed their conversation, the more Brandon felt as though he was beginning to play both sides. On the one hand, he wanted to know all the things that Henning was obviously keeping from him. On the other...

"Good morning, Dr. Harper," said Katie Sinnitz, squeezing his shoulder as he passed her in the park. "Mrs. Sinnitz," he replied, tipping an invisible hat.

When he arrived at the office and opened up, Brandon sunk back into his routine and forgot everything for a moment. That is, until without warning his cock began to throb. And that was when his next patient entered his office.