The cable was out. Jonathan spent a few minutes slapping the receiver before turning off his television. He looked outside, expecting to see other frustrated sports fans shaking their fists at the heavens, but all the other houses hummed along with the normal glow of a weekday evening. He cursed his provider and went to check the score on his phone. The display of his cell flickered a few shades of red before turning to black. He groaned and collapsed in an armchair, scowling at the various useless devices around his room.
His hand slid into his gym shorts and scratched the side of his balls. He gave a noncommittal stroke to his slightly stiff dick, and started to wonder if he still had anything to jerk off to on his computer.
-
Across the street, the Wilsons had just finished dinner. Conner cleared away dishes while his wife, Martha, gathered up laundry. The two hummed through their chores, playfully pinching or slapping each other's bottoms as they floated around the house. Martha attempted to put on an internet radio channel, but it only hissed back at her for a moment before going to an empty silence. Unfazed, she dialed up her iPod's playlist. In minutes, her husband danced through the house, belting out each and every word from an obscure Broadway show.
She smiled at her husband, subconsciously thrilled that after ten years of marriage, he could still be so idiotically charming. Her mind drifted off to the memory of their last lovemaking. As affectionate as he was, his job often left him exhausted at the end of the day, meaning sex became an afterthought. His current mood had her hopeful, though. She wondered if she should slip into something seductive for him.
-
Outside, the street seethed with the heat of a summer evening. Poe sat on his front porch, beer in his left hand, cigarette in his right, watching the black space at the end of the street. He heard the sirens earlier, saw the bright flashes of light and the faint yells of alarmed citizens. Nothing said about it on the television, nothing on the radio, so he took his case of beer to the front porch, and waited. Leaning against the wall beside him, just out of sight, but within reach, was a shotgun. Whatever would come his way, he intended to be loaded both ways.
His neighbors seemed equally uneasy, appearing at windows or doorways to look out at the night. They all quailed at the heat and cowered in their air conditioned homes, happy to ignore the spreading disquiet. Deep down, they all had suspicions. Suspicions which had grown for weeks. The strange people around town, gorgeous and bawdy, and the many disappearances should have sent the whole town into a riot. No one raised a finger. It seemed easier to forget someone than lodge a missing person complaint. The few who did were confidently told that the missing would show up eventually. Maybe it was the heat, Poe thought.
In the distance, he saw a bright flash of blue light. His hand twitched toward the shotgun. The city disappeared into darkness with a diminishing hum as the power grid went down. Poe took a long pull on his cigarette, the small orange dot glaring defiantly back at the void. He heard a synchronized clack of heels hitting pavement. Poe's eyes slowly adjusted to the starlight, and he could see the moving silhouettes marching into the suburb.
Women, stunningly beautiful women, stepping forward with a cold determination. The first few wore tight, dark colored dresses that flared at the hips into a swishing skirt that rustled slightly as they walked. Their red lipstick shone brightly despite the lack of light, and lush hair shimmered with reflected moonlight. Each of them looked as if she had walked out of a fifties' pinup calendar. They dispersed to different houses with a clear intent. They did not choose their destination at random, but walked directly to a specific door.
A few passed Poe as he sat on the porch. Up close, he observed the lewdness of their attire. Bulging breasts and swollen asses strained to break out of the confining clothes. The harlots walked one by one to their designated home, took a position right at the front door, and remained motionless as their compatriots continued their grim march. A mesmerizing brunette flashed Poe a perfect, innocent smile. She touched her bobbed hair, fixing it into an exact position as she took her spot one door down at his neighbor's house. With their passing, an intoxicating aroma filled the air, flowing after them in a wave. It invaded Poe's senses and bewildered his mind. With the miasma clouding his senses, their eerie vigil seem entirely normal.
The parade continued, but the participants differed. Miniskirts and tube tops took the place of floor length gowns. Then came the creatures that only resembled humans. Women with bunny ears and cat ears, furred over their entire bodies. Among them danced women wearing nearly nothing. Some chose fetish wear, French maid outfits and Catholic school girls skirts with knee high socks. Some came in shining latex or leather. Like the others, these walking wet dreams dispersed directly to a house throughout the neighborhood as Poe watched, unconsciously waiting for his own fantasy girl to arrive.
The women were not alone. Poe simply had not noticed the other participants of the march, but once he did, he knew they had always been there. Hulking monstrosities of muscle and fur followed the clatter of heels with the silent steps of enormous predators. Some of these devils went to houses of their own, others remained prowling up and down the street, glittering, black eyes keeping a vigilant watch.
The march dwindled to a trickle as most had passed. His neighbors waited unknowingly in their homes, searching for candles and flashlights or fiddling with a battery operated radio. Another gargantuan passed by Poe. As the black shape moved, a glimmering visage appeared at the foot of Poe's stoop. The woman was tall and thin with white hair flowing down to the top of her plump ass. She wore a long slinking dress that seemed more spectral than tangible. She floated up the steps and gracefully knelt down by Poe, taking his hand into hers. He expected her touch to feel icy or burn, but it sent a warm, familiar sensation through his body. Gazing at her face, he tried to comprehend what he saw. He let out a hoarse whisper, but she held her hand to his lips and shook her head. He persisted, "Annabel?"
"I can be whoever you want me to be," the woman said with a kind smile.
Dismayed, Poe brushed the shining white hair away from the woman's face. His eyes focused again, and he saw a different woman looking back at him, "How...how did you look like her? She's been gone for -"
"For a very long time," the woman replied soothingly. "You've been very alone. All that can change now." She stood and pulled on his arm for him to follow. "Let's go inside and I can explain. Come on. Come inside with me." She led him to the door.
Poe looked up and down the street. All of these creatures had their heads turned to him, otherwise standing rigidly in their designated positions. He remembered his wife lying beside him on a Sunday morning, sunlight flickering over her closed eyes. Her nose twitching as she roused. The woman beside him was a faint specter of her beauty, a faded memory, but her touch was real. He opened the door, and she followed him inside. It closed with an echoing click.
