The swirling fog of the morning made me more miserable with my utterly boring existence. Just like everything in this backwoods part of Kentucky it seemed to close in around me. Nineteen and life didn't offer any hope of escape from this place, not even from this rotten, little dinner that had been passed down to my mother from her father. Here was boredom served to me on a platter my family had created, a platter I wanted nothing to do with.
"Fuck," I whispered to myself, "I'd sell my soul to the Devil for some excitement."
"Hey, Melissa," Ballard Barnes called out, "Wake up and give us more coffee, or do I have to take you out back and wake you up?"
Ballard Barnes and his brother Sam, two morons that God made the mistake to have given vocal cords. Both were sure they would be the one to take my virginity from me. Both were very, very wrong on that idea.
As I turned from the coffee machine with the pot of coffee, the whole place lit up as lightning engulfed the fog shrouded world. Instantly there was a huge boom of thunder sounding more like a demonic scream than anything else. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as the thunder echoed from the unseen hills around the tiny cafe.
I blinked twice as I stared out the window towards the road. Slowly two headlights pulled closer, looking more like the sinister eyes of an approaching demon than anything else. My body shook for a second before the car turned to the right and vanished towards the parking spaces.
I had returned the coffee pot to the burner and had just sat back down on the ugly burnt orange stool when he walked in. Dressed in tight black jeans, a shirt as black as a moonless night he cut the image of pure, unbridled excitement into my mind. His black hair was neatly combed and he took a glance at me with the darkest black eyes ever created. In his eyes I knew that, here was not only excitement, here was danger.
"Hey, look, it's Johnny Cash," Ballard roared loudly as the stranger passed the table the two brothers were sitting by.
I knew there was going to be trouble. The man stopped, a wicked grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He slowly turned to Ballard and moved to the table.
"Not Johnny. Not Cash. The name is Charon." He growled in a voice more like the thunder than I could imagine.
"Sharon? SHARON?" Ballard roared with laughter. "And my name is Sue. How do you do?"
"Ballard," the man said, his voice as sharp and crisp as a sharp knife. "You have so little time. Maybe you'd do better to use it more wisely."
"Who are you?" Ballard asked, confusion washing over his bearded face.
"Your worst nightmare," the man replied slowly, then turned and walked to a booth, his feet coming to the floor as if he intended to plant them through the dirty, greasy tiles with each step.
"Best not mess with them." I whispered as I set the glass of water and a menu down for the stranger. "They are real bad people."
"Bad?" He asked, picking up the menu. "They look bad, but they are just two morons who don't know when to stop."
"Come on," I don't want any trouble. Okay?"
"No trouble. Not for you. But they are caught up in a dance they don't know is coming to an end."
"Melissa, honey," Ballard said as he sauntered up. "Don't waste your time on this guy. Come on, lets go out back and you show me those little titties."
His fingers touched my blouse an instant before my hand crashed along the side of his face. "You ever do that again, you bastard, I'll fucking kill ya."
"You little tramp!" Ballard screamed as his hand slashed out to repay my slap. There was no way I could avoid it but, it never got to me. The stranger, not even looking up reach out and stopped Ballad's blow without any effort.
"Your mother never teach you any manners, Ballard? You don't go around hitting little girls. Ever!"
Both Ballard and I stood in pure amazement at what had just happened. Ballard was a big man, made muscular by a lifetime of working in the woods. No matter how shocked he was, this would not be tolerated by the two brothers who thought they owned half the girls in the community.
"I'll fucking kill you for that," Ballard growled, jerking his arm from the man's grasp.
"No you won't," The man smiled up at him. "But you'll try. Now go sit down and keep you big, ugly mouth shut for a few minutes."
Unaccustomed to such treatment, the read face giant of a man backed off.
Moving swiftly to the service window to the kitchen, I nodded to Jimmy, the old man who swept the place to come closer. "Go get the sheriff, there is going to be big trouble here."
With his coat half on, Jimmy headed to the door, his limp slowing him down. "Jimmy," the stranger said, not looking up. "He's down there behind his favorite billboard, but you will have to wake him up."
I flopped down on the stool. Something was going on here that was beyond my mind. Something evil was here, you could feel and taste it. Trouble wasn't going to happen, trouble was already here.
The three men got up at the same instant as if on cue. I opened my mouth to scream for them to sit down but nothing came out. Unable to speak or move I watched the brothers advance on the stranger, anger and hate painted on their faces as the stranger, the one called Charon, stood with a knowing grin on his face.
Charon took his time with the two. Speed was his thing as he bashed a fist into Sam's face, twirled and caught Ballard between the legs with his knee. Even in pain Ballard lashed out with a wild punch that went wide as the man stepped back.
I knew he was hurt the instant the fist slammed into his muscular chest. Ballard backed up like a staggering drunk, caught himself on the edge of the table and looked at the man in disbelief. "You fucker," He said as a trickle of blood drooled from the right side of his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed in a heap, his eyes staring blindly at the ceiling.
Sam started to crawl to help his brother, but the stranger used the bottom of his shoe to slam the injured man's head against the floor. Sam lay still beside his dead brother.
I had never seen a man killed before. It had happened so quickly that I was unable to grasp any of what had happened. Sitting in total shock I found myself unable to move as the man named Charon moved towards me, a coldness coming over me as he came closer.
With his eyes boring into mine, he pulled my blouse out and I felt his hand push something beneath my bra. "Never ask for what you do not understand," he said with a smile. "You might get it."
With the lights flashing brightly, sheriff Johnson and Jimmy roared into the drive as the stranger was pulling out. It was over and it had actually seemed like some demonic dance that had been played out before me. A dance that had left one of the brothers dead and the other with a serve head injury that would leave him paralyzed the rest of his life. A dance had been played out by a man who had no compassion for the two. Slowly I remembered where I had heard about the one called "Charon the Ferryman".
I sat in total shock as the para-medics and police did their job. Sheriff Johnson insisted on calling my parents, away helping to get my grandfather's estate in order after his death a few weeks earlier. As always, my father was able to work his way out of helping me when I needed help the most. By early afternoon, Sheriff Johnson dropped me off at my home, not happy that I had refused to stay with him and his wife until my parents came home. Frankly, I just wanted to get away and lock the doors and cry.
After three beers, stolen from the refrigerator, I heard a knock on the door. Figuring it was someone checking up on me I opened the door and stood staring into the eyes of the stranger.
"Enough excitement?" He said, stepping forward as I backed into the house, unable to utter a sound.
He closed the door behind him and turned to me, his eyes going from the top of my head to me feet then back up, stopping for a moment at my breasts.
"What do you want?" I forced the words out.
"You got your excitement, Melissa, now its time to pay up."
"No," I moaned. "Please, not this."
He smiled cruelly at me. "I will give you two ways: You can be mine until I am done with you, and let you live, or you can die. I think you'd be better off doing it my way than dying at your young age."
"No, please," I moaned, now unable to even move. "I don't want to die."
"Then be mine."
"Never," I hissed.
His hand came to rest on my chest as his eyes looked deeper into me. I felt a shock go through my body, touching every part of me. My heart started hurting as it now pounded unsteadily. Dizzy and becoming weak I slowly went to my knees, his hand still on my chest.
"You have a pretty body, Melissa," he whispered, the words echoing painfully in my mind. "Too bad it has to be this way."
Lowering me to my back I could feel my life being drained from me. I could see in his cold, black eyes that he was willing to allow this to go either way. I gasped out for air, feeling my body starting to shut down. Deep inside I knew he was going to make it a long process, a process I was no longer able to endure.
My mouth opened as I tried to form the words. "You now willing to be mine?" He asked as his hand moved slightly, bring a horrid burning pain to my heart.
I tried to answer but nothing but strange, gurgling sounds came out of my mouth. Fear took over as I felt a numbness coming over me. I was too close to death to utter the words that would keep me alive.
"It's close now, Melissa," he taunted. "You can't speak and your life is just about gone. Just think it and it'll stop. Do you really want to die?"
