This is a work of fiction written solely to entertain. All characters in sexual situations are 18 or older. Thanks for reading!
*
Something wasn't quite right. Madison woke up on New Year's Day with the distinct memory of celebrating the new year in several different ways. Was that what happened when you got drunk? But she'd only had a little champagne. She remembered the thrill of kissing Daniel as the clock struck midnight. How amazing, he really was into her. But then, somehow, she had also spent midnight making out with her friend, Brittney. And then she'd also had several boring celebrations in the living room. Each moment was as real in her memory as the next one.
Several other people woke that day to the same confusion. Penelope rolled away from her still snoring husband. She was giddy, because Daniel had chosen her to spend midnight with on New Year's. But then she remembered he'd gone off with other women and she'd been left at that boring party several times. How had both happened?
Daniel had heard that mysterious clock signal midnight while he spent time with several women. He was grateful for all of it, but especially that he got to share that special moment with both his sister and his mom. They were, after all, the two most important people in his life. He knew the house had bent space and time for him. That's what he got for being friends with Day Star, he supposed. Were they friends? Partners? He took a deep breath and got out of bed. Daniel threw on jeans and a t-shirt and headed downstairs.
There were still discarded cups and party hats on the stairs. But it didn't look too bad. He sighed, and turned toward the kitchen to grab a trash bag. Being the first Anderson up meant he'd bag some garbage so the others would wake to a cleaner house. Daniel paused. Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He slowly turned to the right and his mouth fell open. Someone had stepped on Khadra's salt salamander drawing last night, and it was nearly unrecognizable on the floor. Above it, the door to the locked room stood wide open.
"Shit." Daniel walked at a snail's pace toward the room. A quiet settled over the house. Not even the great clock so much as ticked. The steady metronome of his pulse beat in his ears.
Upstairs, Penelope stopped daydreaming, sat up in bed with a start, and jumped onto the cold floor. She threw on a sweatshirt and raced out of the spare room, leaving her sleeping husband behind. Something was wrong and the house needed her.
"Hello?" Daniel couldn't see into the room from his angle, but a trapezoid of orange, flickering light fell across the hall. "Is someone there?" His bare feet padded closer and closer. He walked up to the open doorway and looked in. The great bear stood in its corner, still in a fearsome pose. The last man Daniel expected to see sat in the armchair near the back wall wagging a finger at Daniel. "Mr. Samatar?"
Maxamed said nothing and didn't move but for the finger that continued to admonish Daniel. He wore one of his dark suits, with a red tie. A small rivulet of crimson ran over his dark forehead, snaked around his right eye, and dripped off his cheek.
"Um ... Are you okay?" Daniel looked around the room. Everything else was as he remembered it. The sideboard, the bottles, the sofa, the oil lamp, were all in place. When Daniel looked back at the bear. It had moved a foot closer to the door. Now, its glass eyes were trained on Daniel. "We need to go, Mr. Samatar." Daniel held out his hand and blinked. During the fraction of a second his eyes were closed, the bear moved another couple feet. A frozen snarl had spread on its face, further exposing its yellowed canines.
A deep frown etched itself on Maxamed's face. He kept wagging his finger.
"Danny?" Penelope's voice carried down the stairs.
"I'm here." Daniel looked toward the stairs and then back into the room. The bear had moved closer, standing still as a statue in the middle of the room, partly obscuring Daniel's view of Maxamed. The dead animal looked very angry. "Shit." Daniel widened his eyes, trying his best not to blink. "Come on, Mr. Samatar. It's now or never. Let's get you out of there."
Maxamed gave no indication of having heard Daniel. He sat reclined in the armchair, his finger waving back and forth.
"Daniel, no." Penelope's feet hit the bottom of the stairs. Goosebumps broke out on her bare legs. She sprinted over to the room, pulled Daniel by the shirt away from the doorway, and slammed the door shut. The last thing she saw of the room was the giant, brown bear mere inches away, its claws outstretched. The crack of the slamming door echoed around the hall and the entryway. Penelope put her hands on her knees and sucked in air. "That's a bad ... room, Danny." She looked over at her eighteen-year-old brother-in-law.
"Yeah ..." Daniel gathered himself. "Wait, Mr. Samatar is still in there. We have to get him out."
"There's no one alive ... in there." Penelope caught her breath.
"How do you know?" Daniel reached for the knob on the door. He tried to turn it, but it was locked.
"I have some connection ... to that room." Penelope straightened up.
Daniel wanted to ask her questions about it, but that would have to wait. A troubling thought occurred to him. "Mrs. Samatar said she'd trapped Mr. Palmer in there. So, he's out. What's he doing now?"
"Upstairs," Penelope said.
"Upstairs," Daniel said at the same time.
Together they turned and raced up the stairs. They didn't know who Frederick would target, but Khadra, Brad, Brittney, Julie, and George were all asleep and vulnerable.
~~
"This is where I welcomed those destined for the sacrifice." Frederick Palmer sat in an armchair and waved his hand to encompass the small room. A massive stuffed bear stood to his right. A sideboard rested to his left. "I would pour them a drink from there. And they wouldn't wake up until the ceremony."
"Sacrifice?" George sat on a comfortable sofa, a tumbler in his hand. Ice clinked in the glass as he held it up to regard the amber liquid. "What did you do to those people?"
"I shed blood, Mr. Anderson." Frederick smiled. A thin white line formed under his black mustache. He pushed back his hair from his forehead and tugged at his perfectly tailored suit. "It gave me clarity of purpose. But that was so long ago, and the world has darkened since. To change the course of things, He needs more offerings. But they are so few and far between now."
"You are an abomination before God." George couldn't get the tremor out of his voice.
"You misunderstand me. I did this
for
God." Frederick eyed George's tumbler. "
And when the days of her purifying are completed, whether for a son or for a daughter, she shall bring to the priest at the entrance of the tent of meeting a lamb a year old for a burnt offering, and a pigeon or a turtledove for a sin offering.
" He paused to see the effect on the other man. "But the sins of our species compiled, and God asked for greater and greater pledges. He needs our blood to wash away our sins. I did as he asked, ever the humble servant."
"You did this for God?" George dropped his drink to the richly colored carpet on the floor. It spilled, ice fanning out from the impact.
