When Lucas woke, his mind was blurred with pain. His whole body seemed to be racked by a searing sensation that encompassed him more totally than any sensation ever had. He tried to scream in agony, but found that his throat and chest were already flexed too tightly to emit anything more than a long low pitched whine.
"What the fuck," he nearly yelled as he sat up on the floor, his bare fingers digging into the soft carpet beneath him. "Shit," he muttered, as the lingering sensation of agony hummed through his mind like a high voltage shock. His strong hands clutched at the side of his head, muscles flexed, trying to distract from the agony that haunted him.
"Shit, shit, shit."
He looked down, into his crotch and the dried spunk that coated his cock with flaky residue. It was in his pubic hair and across his flaccid shaft. Perplexed he tried to clear away the hazy fog that had gripped his mind in agony. Then he remembered the dream. His mother's strange words, and his sister's actions and tastes. Mysteriously he felt as if he could still smell her scent and taste her sex upon his lips. Momentarily, his tongue flicked out over them. Sure enough, there was that same heady flavor that he had recalled from his dream.
But it had been a dream right? He remembered being a dog. Being overcome by new desires and instincts. Impossible.
Trying to convince himself of the ridiculous nature of his dream, the young man pushed himself from the floor and found a pair of shorts to cover his waist. His sizable package swelled their center, and hinted dangerously at his proud masculinity.
Stepping from his room, he listened for sounds that would indicate his family's presence. Hearing nothing, he crept into the hall and slowly paced downstairs. When he reached the kitchen, he paused, trying to sniff out the scents that had bewildered him in his dream. But he could not detect them. Only the familiar cleanliness of his home emanated around him.
Puzzled more and more by the images that were embedded in his brain, he knew he had to find his mother and sister. Seeing them would answer his questions. He went back upstairs, peered into each of their rooms, knocked on the closed bathroom door, ducked into the study. Nobody.
Walking into the living room he noticed his mother and sister's cars both out front.
Strange, he thought. Another car, a massive black luxury sedan, was parked behind theirs. They couldn't have gone anywhere without their cars. Confused more than ever, he returned to the kitchen and the wireless phone.
He hit the speed dial for his mother's phone and waited. Upstairs, he heard the familiar beginnings of a digitized rock song. She didn't have her phone? Weirder and weirder yet.
On edge, he dialed his sister's number and waited. In the distance, he heard the familiar ring of the phone. It sounded like it was coming from the family room. Setting down the main line, he paced back into the family room and saw his sister's purse sitting at the top of the stairs leading to the basement. Beside it, sat two neatly folded sets of clothing. Atop each one was a set of bra and panties. One set looked remarkably familiar.
Lucas felt a twitch in his groin as he recognized the undergarments. He remembered their taste and the delicacies they hid beneath. He knelt slowly beside them, his rough fingers sliding over their lacy surface, a hint of a grin running across his lips.
Then he noticed the light at the bottom of the stairs. It was a puzzle, for Lucas, because the basement was really just a massive storage dump for the family of three. Old Christmas ornaments, school projects, photographs, extra building materials, and many miscellaneous piles of things were buried in its recesses. It made no sense that his mother and sister would be down there.
Slowly, he crept down the stairs until he was at the door. Cautiously, he pushed it open. What he saw surprised him.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, but the usual messy piles and random cardboard boxes. The single exposed light bulb burned brightly, the center of the universe as far as he was concerned. Lucas took one precursory walk through, making sure he wasn't missing the obvious. His mouth twisted in a slight frown as he realized that he was no closer to finding his mother or sister. Frustrated, he settled into a large arm chair in the family room to watch some TV, and the piles of clothes.
It would have been easier for him to understand them being there, naked, then for them not to be there at all. It was as if they had disappeared down the stairs into a different world.
Two hours past before anything would happen. The bored young man endured two civil court programs, one redneck fight show, and the beginning of a daytime soap before he finally heard the scrape of the door down below.
More curious than ever, he turned down the volume and his eyes stared at the dark stairwell, waiting to see what would happen.
To his disappointment, his mother's boss emerged from the bottom of the stairs.
He was a burly, squat man, with the demeanor of a bulldog and an attitude to match. Marcus was full of himself and didn't mind letting everyone know it. What was more interesting, was the two beautiful huskies he pulled behind him on a pair of leashes.
As he crested the top of the stairs, the older man gave the younger a smirk of derision and a little snort. "Take care of these dogs for me, Lucas," he instructed as he looped the leashes around the coat closet door handle. Both of the dogs began to whimper simultaneously as he stepped away. "Quiet, you two bitches. No whining." He gave Lucas another smile and happily walked outside.
Lucas was greatly puzzled by this whole situation. So much so, he had forgotten to speak. He just sat there staring out the door after Marcus. What the hell, he thought. Where was his mother? Where was Athena? Where did the dogs come from? Where did Marcus come from?
Lucas ignored the dogs for the moment as they seemed like a lesser mystery. Hurriedly, he darted down the stairs again and pushed open the doorway. The light inside still burned brightly. But nothing seemed to have changed. He did another more thorough examination of the room and came up with no new evidence or discovery. His head began to ache as he continued to search in utter futility for the hiding spot he knew had to be there.
The headache brought back memories of the wracking pain he had awoken to. Suddenly his whole body began to tense and Lucas shivered uncontrollably. Urgently he fought to suppress the urge to allow the pain to seize control. With a loud yell, he forced back the waves of agony and darted up the stairs. He needed to get out.
"Sorry doggies," he muttered as he grabbed a jacket and darted into the sunshine. The moment he stepped into the sunlight the pain became a memory and he felt like himself again. Lucas took a few deep breaths and decided to go for a stroll until he could clear his head.
His long lean frame carried him quickly over sidewalks, gravel roads, and grassy pathways. Soon he had managed to distance himself from the suburbs he was so familiar with. He knew a place, a good seven miles from his home, that had been his hideout when he was little. When things got to be too much, or when he just wanted to be lost in his imagination, he would duck away. His mother had been very understanding and had allowed him to go so long as he promised to come back by dinner. Slowly the grassy pathway faded, like all the other constructs of human direction, and Lucas finally felt alone.
His spirit soared in the middle of the field, his trees just ahead of him. The sense of being free, of being whole, coursed through his veins and with an unnatural yell and a jump, he darted through the grass. His long legs pounded heavily before him, each step driving him forward several yards, and carrying him through the tendrils of wheat toned growth with a whispering sound. He heard his voice laugh of its own accord, unprompted, and he inhaled deeply the cool air.
When he finally dived between the low lying branches and leaves of his hideaway, he did not stop running. The brush scratched at his clothing and his hair, but he nimbly ducked and jumped, until he heard the gurgling sound of his creek. With another loud laugh, he slid to a stop.
He felt powerful, free, in control out here. There was nothing but him and his spot. He found that his laughter would not stop, and it rolled out of his lungs like thunder and echoed from tree trunk to tree trunk until it dissipated in the canopy.
Lucas felt intoxicated by this little fortress. The copse of trees surrounded and hid him, stilling any of the eerie foreignness that his life had taken on while at home. Here, there were no strange dreams, just himself and his creek.
The young man reached to the ground, picking up a decent sized rock and chucked it towards the gurgling water with a splash. Quickly another one chased after it. Lucas tried replicating each splash, each impact with every repetitive swing of the arm. The simplicity of it all stilled him. There was a peacefulness in knowing exactly what to do, when to do it, and how the world would react. He hadn't realized how displaced he felt until he found his center. Time and time again the rocks would splash water at his feet.
Minutes and hours would tick by and it would not be until the sun began its long descent beneath the horizon that Lucas realized how long he had been gone. Half smiling, half swearing, he turned back towards home. The sense of elation that had sped him on his way now was absent. And so the journey home felt much longer. He would run a portion of it, especially when he remembered his date that evening. He had no idea of the time, but knew that his girlfriend would not be late.
Lucas breathed a big sigh of relief as he arrived at the driveway and there was no sign of Sarah. He was sweaty and a few twigs were stuck in his hair and to his clothing. He needed a chance to cleanup.
When he bound through the door he was surprised to find the two dogs still tightly tied to the closet handle. Both whimpered incessantly as soon as he stepped through the door. Their whines were high pitched and desperate.
What an asshole, Lucas thought about his mother's boss, as he passed by. "Sorry doggies, gotta shower first." He gave each a pat on the head and bounded up the steps.
Soon the warm embrace of a hot shower penetrated his skin and relaxed the muscles that had pulsed with life on his race to and from his hiding spot. Slowly the sweat and the small flecks of dirt that had accumulated over his arms and hands disappeared under a steady flow. Yawning, he killed the shower and stepped out into the misty air of his bathroom. He took a quick inventory of his body, admiring the way hours of hard work had rewarded him. It was then that he heard the knock.
Sarah was there.
