Date: Sun, 22 Oct 2023 16:50:33 +0000 From: beachbum5599 Subject: Fearful Dad Just a spooky one-shot. Happy October everyone! (This is a revised version of the story that attempts to make more explicit the difference between perception and reality, even if it loses the spookiness a little. Please keep in mind that the thoughts and ideas of the PoV character are just their own thoughts.) Chapter 1 - Unease My son, Jason, hated the move. It was his junior year of high school, so uprooting him from his social circle and moving to a new city for my job was always going to be risky proposition. But I hadn't anticipated how much it would change him. It had been almost a year and he was still surly in the mornings, giving me the evil eye all the way to school where I dropped him off. He took the city bus back home. When I returned, he didn't talk to me. One word answers at best. Admittedly, we didn't have any social circle in this city. I hadn't had enough time from work to fully clean out the attic or basement, let alone to start going to bars or inviting co-workers over for dinner. And yes it rained constantly here, which dampened the mood quite a bit. But I figured that finally moving out from an apartment to a whole house would be a nice change for him. But he was still a good boy. Whenever I returned home from work, he had dinner ready for the both of us, with enough left over for our lunches. And he was doing well enough in school, according to his teachers. So I just had to assume that the silent treatment would go on for another few months until he finally went off to college. I had to say, I was not looking forward to living in this house alone all by myself once Jason left. It was just plain spooky. The windows rattled. The floor and staircase creaked. Unexplained sound that echoed in the pipes. Toilets flushed of their own accord. Doors opened and closed by the slightest pressure differential. The fact that some of the bedroom doors locked from the outside was just plain unsettling. Even the lights flickered, especially during a thunderstorm. And it feels like it had been getting worse lately. The house was making me see things. Five days ago, I saw something when I came back home from work. It was a foggy evening. The sun was setting. The neighbourhood was eerily quiet. As I was parking my car on the driveway, I saw my son's face looking out his bedroom window. The glass was misted before him. There was a goofy grin on his face, and his eyes were half-closed, like he was listening to some music he really liked. And then, a pale hand reached out from behind him, grabbed his head by the hair, and jerked him away from the window. My eyes bulged. My heart leapt up to my throat. My hands gripped the steering wheeling in shock. But there was nothing visible through the window anymore. Just a curtain, lightly billowing. It took me a few minutes to just compose myself. My hands were shaking when I unlocked the house door and walked in. "J-jason?" I called out, my voice high. "Yeah?" My son's annoyed voice came clear from the floor above. I leaned against the door in relief. "Nothing!" I said out loud. "I'm back. Let's get ready for dinner!" "I already ate!" He said in annoyance. "Alright!" I said, almost laughing. Everything was fine. Or that's what I thought. But that night, I woke up. I don't usually wake up at night. But that night, I woke up. There was a sound. It wasn't just in the pipes. It was the floor. The stairs. Something was climbing the stairs, one at a time. The darkness was profound in my room. The central heating was not currently running, nor was it raining outside. So the creaking boards were loud in my ears. I clutched my bedsheets as the creaking got louder. Sweat began to form on my forehead. And then I heard Jason's bedroom door swing open. And close. Huh. It was just Jason then. But why did he go downstairs? To get water, I guess. Or a late night snack. It was quiet for the next few minutes. My heartbeat calmed down. It had to have been Jason. I settled in to sleep. And then the wind started moaning through the windows. I might still have fallen asleep, if a muffled creaking hadn't started in Jason's room. What the hell was that boy doing up this late? Gaming? Thankfully, the central heating kicked on a few minutes after. And even though the moaning wind tried to overtake it, the white noise was enough to send me back to sleep. So, yes, it had been an odd week, on top of a rough year. --- Tonight, I had to work late. By the time I drove home, it was dark already. The rain was pouring, as my nose took in the scent of rain on the driveway. Only my son's bedroom window was lit. I saw his shadow against the curtain. It looked like he was putting his shirt on, when the light in his room turned off. I clenched my jaw. It was just the electricity flickering. But his light didn't turn back on. I got out of my car and ran to the front door, trying to avoid as much of the rain as I could. I unlocked and opened the door, entered the house, then flicked the light switch. The light came on. And the door to the basement stairs slammed shut. I froze. Slowly, I closed and locked the door behind me. "Jason?" I called out in my strained voice. "WHAT?" Came his angry reply from upstairs. "Nothing. Just that I'm home," I said. I fixed myself the dinner that my boy had prepared and already eaten. As I washed up afterwards, I noticed that Jason had left his plate in the sink. Unusual. I cleaned up after him as well. I watched some TV in the living room. Even though it was just the same as any other evening, it felt different. I thought I saw shadows moving from the corner of my eyes. The sounds of the house made me extra jumpy. I don't know how to explain it, but it felt like there was something in the same floor as me. The rain pitter pattered outside. I turned the TV off and headed to bed early. I considered saying goodnight to Jason, but he was probably gaming. I wouldn't want to mess his win streak or whatever. So I just changed into my pyjamas and got into bed. --- I woke up. The rain had stopped. Moonlight came in through the windows. The stairs creaked. One at a time. The sound came closer and closer. Someone was coming up the stairs again. The moonlight gave me enough courage to get up. I grabbed my laptop to use as a weapon. I went to my bedroom door, and put my hand on the door handle. I was breathing quicker. I turned the door handle and swung open the door. A figure was standing at the top of the stairs facing me. It was humming an eerily jaunty tune. The moonlight was behind it, so I could only see its shadow side. Its arms moved in wide motions and on each side a dark wing flared and then wrapped itself around the creature's body. I was frozen, rooted in fear. The figure walked closer and closer to me. Then it turned to Jason's room and opened the door. "Jason?" I whispered. The figure stopped. It seemed to turn to me, and said, "Yeah, dad?" I gasped in relief. I reached my hand back into my room and flicked on the light switch. Both Jason and I covered our eyes against the sudden light. He was wearing a bathrobe. "Goodnight, dad," he mumbled as he went inside his room and shut the door. Relieved, I was about to turn the light off and go to bed myself, when I noticed something. At the top of the stair, the light from my room hit something that shone. I rubbed my eyes and went near it. There was a droplet of liquid on the floor. It wasn't water. There was some white in it, like soap sud. Had Jason been washing himself downstairs? But his bathroom was upstairs. The moonlight from the ground floor reflected off of another drop, lower down on the staircase. I went down to it. And then there was another. Then another at the bottom of the staircase. Then a couple along the floor of the kitchen. And then the last one. Right outside the door to the basement stairs. ------------------------------ Chapter 2 - Haunt The trail of whitish liquid I was following led to the basement. I put a trembling hand on the door handle and turned. I opened it just a crack. Darkness. The moonlight did not touch the inside. The basement furnace roared to life, and I slammed the door shut in a fright. Immediately, the whole sound of the furnace was significantly muffled. There was only the white noise thrum of it in the rest of the house. I went to the kitchen sink and poured myself a glass of water. I drank it slowly, calming myself down. The droplets were probably nothing. And if they were something, I would check them out tomorrow. In the daylight. I walked back up the stairs, looking behind me many times. No creeping shadows, just the still moonlight. I closed my bedroom door behind me and wrapped myself up in a blanket. Then, just for good measure, I got up and put a chair against my door. After that, I was able to fall asleep again. --- The next morning, I woke up early. The sun was shining. Birds were singing. It seemed like a wonderful new day. Nothing to be afraid of, really. I got ready for work and was having my morning cereal in the kitchen when my eyes flicked over to the basement door. I chewed and swallowed the granola, then set the bowl on the kitchen counter and walked over to the door. Jason had just gone into the shower. I had time to investigate. I opened the door wide. Some of the sunlight slipped through, dimly lighting the stairs down into darkness. The basement light switch was all the way down at the base of the staircase. I took out my cell phone, turned on the flashlight, and descended. There was no sign of the liquid droplets on the stairs. Either it dried out, or it must've been in the kitchen only. I descended slowly. I had only been here a few times before. It wasn't my favourite spot in the house. My plan was to clean it out with the help of my son once he started speaking to me again. But that hadn't happened yet. I got all the way down and turned the light on. The place was a mess. A lot of junk left behind by the previous owners. They had sold their place in a hurry, and I hadn't questioned the low selling price back then. Now I wondered if it was worth it to get saddled with all this mess. It smelled musty. Lots of old books. Old electronics. Half torn paintings. Used camping gear. A torn couch with dried up liquid stains all over it. A faint burning smell that was likely the old furnace. And something citrusy in the air that I couldn't place. Something caught my eye. Two items on a table that weren't as dusty as some of the other stuff. An old timey audio-cassette was placed over a sketchbook. I put the audio cassette in my pocket. I didn't have a cassette player in the house, but my car was so old that I could play it there. I opened the sketchbook, and then nearly dropped it in shock. Drawn and coloured with pencils, was the image of what looked like a stab wound. Within an expanse of pinkish white (the skin?), was a round, red coloured, three-inch wide circle with the red fading into a black closer to the centre, like the wound went in deep. I flipped to the next page. It was a similar drawing, but with more details. A crease of the skin went vertically above and below the wound. The edges of the wound showed signs of puckering. The wound itself was less red and more of a deep pink before becoming darker in the centre. I flipped to the next page. The same drawing as the previous page, but now there was a white liquid filling the lower half of the wound, dripping out from it. Goosebumps ran up and down my arms as I thought about the white liquid on the stairs from the night before. "Dad!" I jumped. Jason was calling out from the floor above. "We're late!" Fuck. I left the sketchbook where I found it, switched off the light, and ran up the stairs. Jason was waiting by the front door with his backpack on. He gave me his same surly look, as he shifted his weight from one leg to another in impatience. He was just as impatient and fidgety in the car, shifting his weight from side to side, and letting out groans of frustration at my cautious driving. He must've had a test in the morning he was running late for. After dropping him off, I started on the longer drive to my workplace. Remembering the audio cassette, I popped it into my stereo. The sound of humming filled the car. It sounded familiar... Ah yes! The furnace. Whatever was in this cassette must've been recorded in the basement itself. There was another sound though. It was hard to hear, but it sounded like something wet. Like someone walking on a mopped floor with wet feet. Or close to that but not quite. Every minute or so, there was the sound of air being released. Maybe the furnace was venting. The sun was still bright, even between the clouds that were starting to form. So I held the steering wheel and just focused on the sounds. Nothing to be afraid of. It was just the recording of the furnace in the basement. Odd, but maybe the old owner left the recorder running accidentally. Then the furnace stopped. And the other sounds became a lot more legible. Strained gulping. Muffled gagging. Over and over. And then a desperate rush of air. My feet went cold. Someone was being choked. Was that why the previous owners were in a rush to sell the place? Was someone choked to death (*gulp*) in their basement? Another voice, a snarling voice got louder and breathier, hissing through his teeth, and then roared a feral, guttural roar. The other voice was gulping and moaning desperately. Fuck! I ejected the cassette and threw it out of my car window. I really didn't need to hear something this dark on my way to work. --- I couldn't focus all day at work. I called it early and went home while there was still daylight, even if the cloud cover was complete by now. It would be a rainy night. What the heck had happened in that house? My house now. And how was Jason entangled in all of this? I had to ask him if he knew anything. And what he was doing last night. Instead of pulling up into my driveway, I stopped by my neighbour's house first. A lesbian couple lived there, and I think one of them worked from home. I rang the doorbell. She answered. Shiela was her name. She was polite, but a bit guarded, as I reintroduced myself while standing outsider her front door. I pointed at my house and asked if she knew the previous owners. She shook her head. She and her wife had moved in only a few months before us, apparently. I asked if there were any rumours around the neighbourhood about why they sold their house. She shrugged and said she didn't know. I thanked her, apologized for bothering her, then started to head back, when she stopped me. "You know," she said with a sharp frown. "When you first introduced yourself, it would have been nice to have mentioned that you guys are nudists who walk around with the curtains open." It was my turn to frown. "Jason and I aren't nudists. What makes you think that?" "Oh please," she sneered. "You think I haven't seen you? Just yesterday at noon, you were walking around naked in your bedroom. I had to shut my own curtains before I saw anything that traumatized me. Be mindful of others, okay!" And she went inside, slamming the door behind her. But I was at work at noon yesterday. And Jason was at school. The hair in the back of my neck prickled. Still standing in my neighbour's driveway, I looked over to my bedroom window on the second floor. The curtains were closed today. I then glanced at the side windows on the ground floor, and between the mostly closed curtains, I glimpsed something that caused me to freeze. Jason was on his knees, facing to one side, his mouth open wide hungrily, his eyes staring up at something I couldn't see. And then a pale white arm reached out from above him and pulled him out of sight by his hair. I bolted to my house. "Jason!" I cried out from the front door as I fumbled with my keys, putting the wrong one in, then switching to the right one, then having to steady my head to actually open the door. I swung the front door open, and I heard another door in the house slam shut. "Jason!" I called out. "What?!" He said, annoyed, emerging from the kitchen area still in his school uniform. He was okay! I closed and locked the door behind me as I went to him. He must've been eating dinner because he had a bit of drool on the corner of his lips. "Was- was there someone... Did you have a guest over today? Did anyone come into the house?" "No!" He said, like it was the most obvious answer. "No one ever visits us. Ever." He stomped all the way upstairs. I mean, he was right. Normally, the idea of no one visiting would be a bad thing. But today, it just reassured me. Jason was alright. The house was a mess, but it was just old, not haunted. But then, what was on the cassette I had heard earlier today? Hmm... whatever it was, it was from the time before we moved in so I shouldn't worry about it. As I went into the kitchen to fix my dinner, my eyes went to the basement door again. If I wanted to investigate it again tonight, I only had half an hour before night fell. I don't know why, but I really didn't want to go down there at night. I gulped and headed down the basement stairs again. I turned the light on, and looked around the basement space more closely. On a shelf, behind a small faded painting, there was a full audio cassette system. I followed the wire, and it looked like it was plugged in. There was a tape inside already. I gulped, turned the volume dial down, and hit play. Nothing. It was empty. That was a relief. On a whim, I stopped the playback, rewound it for a bit, and hit play again. "Aaah! Aargh!" The shouting was immediate. "Please! It's so big! It's so thi-" I stopped the playback. My blood was pounding in my ears. I couldn't get the sounds of that person in pain out of my head. And in my discombobulated state, my imagination made it seem like that voice was of Jason. This fucking basement. What in the devil's name had gone on here? Was I living in a house of homicide and pain? I turned away, my knees shaking, and just sat on the torn and stained couch, for a minute, trying to catch my breath. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Ignore that citrusy scent. That's when an item on a lower shelf caught my attention. And old-timey instant camera. And there was a polaroid photo sticking out of it. I don't know why I reached out for it, but I did. It was difficult to make out what it was about, until I went up to the light and looked closely. The stained couch was the bottom half of the picture. It looked like this was the back of the couch, so the photo was taken from behind it. A bare set of shoulders and neck arose above the couch. The flash from the camera made everything behind this figure too dark to see, except for one detail. Two pale hands, one on each bare shoulder, that clutched the figure tightly from behind. The figure reminded me of Jason, though this picture must've been taken before we got here so it couldn't have been him. So, who was this? And what kind of sick ritual- BAM! The door to the basement slammed shut, and the jerk caused the basement light to go out. "Jason?" I cried out in panic in the darkness. I headed to the stairs, my trembling fingers trying to pull out my phone. Bam. Something had hit the door from the other side. From the kitchen side. I lost my tenuous grip on my phone and it dropped. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Something or someone was slamming against the basement door from the kitchen side, again and again. "Jason, stop trying to scare me," I said, my voice sounded eerily high-pitched in my ears. I kneeled down in the darkness and fumbled to find my phone. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. It was rhythmic. And getting faster. And louder. There! My phone. I turned it on, and swiped for my life to find the flashlight. Bam. Bam. BAM. BAM. With the light on, I hurried up the stairs, but just as I got to the door, my nerve left me and I stood still. BAM! The loudest slam. And then silence. I looked for shadows underneath the door, but found it was all padded around the edges. Oh, right. The basement was soundproofed. I remember the realtor telling me that. Only direct slams against the door were able to be heard down here. And then I remembered the cries of pain and strangulation from those cassette tapes. Why the fuck was this basement soundproofed?? I doubled over, hyperventilating, until I finally caught my breath. There was no more slamming sound from the door. I reached out and opened it slowly, expecting some creature or assailant to rush at me. But there was no one there. The kitchen light was on. With a mix of relief and still taut nerves, I stepped into the kitchen. And my feet felt something wet. I looked down. The white liquid. The one from last night. The one from the sketch of the wound. There was a tiny puddle of it under my feet. My chest shivered as I bent down to touch it with my fingers. I brought it to my nose and smelled it. Was it bleach? Was it a poison of some kind? Whatever it was, it didn't burn immediately. But I knew better than to taste it. I searched the area near it. There! Another drop. And another. And then, the trail went up the stairs, with not many droplets still to be seen. Only one drop could be found on the upstairs floor. Right outside Jason's bathroom door. I knocked on the door, and croaked, "Jason?" "Fucking leave me alone! I'm on the toilet!" Jason's voice snapped back from inside. "Sorry!" I said and left. --- I had dinner. I watched some TV. I went to bed. But the whole time, all I could think of was: What's going on? A couple of explanations rose to mind. 1. I was going crazy. I was hallucinating. But this idea was countered by the fact that my neighbour had seen someone in my room yesterday. 2. Someone was breaking into the house while Jason and I were away. This explained what the neighbour had seen. But it didn't explain Jason's odd behaviour. And there were no signs of forced entry anywhere. Also, nothing was missing. 3. Jason was pranking me. This last one made the most sense. Maybe he had seen some of the stuff left in the basement. And he started an elaborate prank to make me question my sanity. Maybe he even came back home early from school yesterday and went into my room while he was changing. As I turned off the light by my bedside and settled in, I thought to myself that the pranking was the correct answer. Jason had gotten tired of the silent treatment and wanted to escalate the expression of his displeasure. Well, fair play. I would tell him tomorrow to put a stop to it. I went to sleep. --- I woke up. It was raining. And there was another sound. The wind moaning. The house creaking. My mouth was dry. I needed some water. Keeping the lights off, I got up and walked to the stairs. The moaning and creaking got louder as I walked past Jason's room. Was it... coming from inside? I put my ear to the door. I heard Jason's voice say, "Oh yeah. Oh fuck. It feels so good. Sooo good!" I turned the door handle and slightly opened the door. The moaning, creaking, and voice immediately stopped. Inside, was just a mass of darkness. There was some movement from the bed. That faint citrusy smell hit my nose again. A hunched over figure hobbled close to the door. It was Jason. He was naked except for the t-shirt that he was holding in front of his groin. He was hunched over. "What the fuck, dad?" He whispered. "Go to sleep." As he closed the door on me, my overactive imagination saw more movement in the bed. "Goodnight son," I whispered to the door. As I got into bed, the mental lightbulb finally went on. Jason was masturbating! I let out a huge laugh of relief. Oh my goodness. Everything made sense. The moaning was Jason, and the creaking was his bed as he jerked off. Pretty aggressively, if the sounds were any indication. The white stuff, that wasn't bleach. That was his cum! Well, eww, but also, thank goodness I didn't taste it. Oh lord, everything made sense now. I let out the biggest sigh of my life and just settled in to sleep. A couple of minutes later, the door to Jason's room creaked open. Footsteps led away to the stairs down, then one by one the steps got quieter and further away as Jason descended down to the ground floor. Either to get some water or finish jerking off, I thought with a chuckle. And then the door to Jason's room snapped shut. Again, footsteps led away to the stairs down, then one by one the steps got quieter and further away. My smile dropped. My eyes were wide. My breathing quickened, even as I lay frozen in bed. ------------------------------ Chapter 3 - Beyond the Pale I must've imagined it. That's what I told myself when I woke up the next morning. Maybe a more sophisticated prank from Jason, that's all. It was raining still. I got ready and drove my son to school. During the car ride, I said to him, "You're really good at pranks, you know. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of one of your pranks." I winked. He gave me that usual surly look, then shifted his weight in his seat in impatience. I thought about bringing up his masturbatory habits too, but right before school was not the right time for it. When I dropped him off, I saw some strange looking people around at his school. Wasn't able to see them too clearly in the rain. When I got to work and saw my co-workers dressed strangely too, that's when I realized, it was October 31st! "Oh, wow, I didn't even keep track of the date," I said. "I'll have to stop by a store for candy." "Don't bother," one of my coworkers replied glumly. "The rain is forecasted to turn into a thunderstorm this evening. No one is going to be trick or treating tonight." Well, that was another bullet dodged. --- I got home from work late that night. Lightning and thunder accompanied my car ride home. When I parked, I saw that only the light in my room was on. The curtains were closed. But I could see the shadow of Jason's torso standing sideways by the window. Huh, my son must've been hitting gym pretty hard, because he looked more filled out than usual. As I grabbed my stuff from my car, I thought I saw a flicker of another shadow from my room. Like a little round shadow the size of a head rise up into the window frame and them bob back down. I blinked a few times. No, it was just Jason, now with his head tilted back, his hand before him. Was the young horndog jerking off again? I'd have to tell him to not do it in my room, at least. I walked in through the door, not calling out his name this time. I closed and locked the door. I dropped my office stuff by the coffee table in the living room, then headed to the kitchen to grab my dinner. And then I stopped. The door to the basement was open. And one of my work shirts was laying on the floor, partly in the kitchen, and partly halfway down the first step into the basement. Lightning flashed outside, followed by thunder. This was just another prank by Jason, I told myself. A fun halloween prank. I picked up my work shirt, then saw that the basement light was on. And also, one set of my work slacks lay halfway down the stairs. I gulped again. Just a prank. Just a prank. I walked down the stairs to the basement. I looked around. It had changed. The cassette player was gone. The old-timey camera was gone. Other stuff and been moved aside to make room for a new thing. My suitcase. Fingers shaking, I opened the zipper to my suitcase and saw inside: my stuff. My clothes, for both work and home. My toothbrush and toiletries. Even my phone charger. What the fuck? Well, it was some prank, for sure. More work for dad, haha. I dragged my suitcase up to the kitchen, with some difficulty. Then I dragged it step by step up the stairs to the second floor, with each step the wheels clattering against the wood loudly. The rain poured outside. Lighting flashed nearby with an immediate sound of thunder, and all the lights in the house went out. Even the central heating was off. The only sound left was the rain pouring against the house. I got to my bedroom door. I swung it open. From the window corner of my room, a tall, big silhouette walked towards me. Lightning flashed. I fell to the ground in horror. A strangled scream was caught in my throat. Lightning flashed again. It was a man. A pale man. Tall, towering. Musclebound like crazy. With wild hair and beard, utterly untamed. Naked. With a cock the size of a billy club swinging between his legs. Thirteen inches long at least, and the thickness of a can of coke. From the floor, my trembling fingers reached into my pocket and drew out my phone. He exited the room, moving right up to me, and kicked the phone out of my hand. It went clattering down the stairs in multiple pieces. He walked past me, the scent of his citrus cologne assaulting my nostrils. Then he turned around, closing in on me again. I crawled away from him and into my bedroom. He continued to advance. I huddled on the ground next to my bed. He reached over me and picked up a key that was on my bedside table. A key I had never seen before. Then he walked to the window corner that he had emerged from. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled. In that corner, I saw Jason, kneeling, naked. He opened his mouth wide hungrily as the man approached, sticking his tongue out, nearly unhinging his jaw. The pale man grabbed him by the hair and jerked his head towards the door. My son nodded, stood up, and strutted to the exit. He slowed down just enough to give me a wink and an evil smirk. They left the room. The pale man shut the door. And then locked it from the outside. The door to Jason's room creaked open. My son was in danger. Even as I was hyperventilating, this thought was racing through my head. Even though he was playing it cool, I just knew he was in danger. I had to do something. Anything! I opened the lower drawer by my dresser and felt around in the darkness. I found the pencil flashlight I had left in there for emergencies. I turned it on and head to the door. Locked. No matter how much I tried to rattle the handle or slam against the door. A loud cry came from my son's room. "Fuuuuuccckkk!" I had heard a similar cry before. From the cassette. I had to hurry. I looked around my room. Or, was it my room still? On my dresser, lay the cassette player and the old-timey camera. The record button was depressed on the cassette player, though the blackout meant that it wasn't running. "Oh fuckkkk yeaaaahhh! Pleaaassee! Deeper! It's so biiiiigg!" Surely, that was my son protesting his assailant loudly. I picked up the old timey camera and shook it, hoping to find a key or something. Instead, a bunch of polaroids fell to the floor. I picked them up and examined them with the flashlight. I bit my lip in shock at the first photo. Jason, smiling, his eyes closed, biting his lips, his face facing up to the camera. The cum on his face glistening in the flashlight. I switched to the next photo. Jason, without a shirt on. Sitting on the lap of the naked pale man. Both of them, sitting on the dirty stained couch. Jason's face was turned back as he was pulling the pale man in for a kiss. Slam! Slam! Slam! The whole top floor rocked as the moaning, and yelping, and the creaking from my son's room became louder. My hands were sweating. I switched to the next photo. Jason, bent over on the stained couch, looking back at the camera with a coy smile, his ass right by the lens. Slam! Slam! Slam! The next photo, a close up of the previous one, with Jason's ass filling the whole frame. Slam! Slam! Slam! The next photo, the same shot as before but Jason was pulling his cheeks apart, showing his tight puckered hole. Puckered. Slam! Slam! Slam! Faster now. The sketch in the book below was not of a wound. It was of what this pale monster wanted to do to my boy's pussy!! Slam-slam-slam-slam-slam! I ran to door, letting the photos drop behind me. With a running start, I put all my weight against my door. And I bounced right back and fell down, with a bruise blossoming on my shoulder. Slam!Slam!Slam! "Aaaarggh" Both voices were crying out loud now. "Aaah AaAaar AAARRGGGHHH!!" The feral roar of the pale man over took my son's high-pitched squeals. And then, silence. I waited on the floor. More silence. And then, footsteps. Approaching. A key turned. My door was unlocked. Footsteps, going away. I scrambled to my feet and swung the door open and ran out. I saw the muscular ass and back of the pale man as he descended down the stairs. Ignoring him, I ran into my son's room. Lightning flashed. Thunder rolled. I was too late. My son was splayed on his bed, on his stomach, his thick ass raised, his legs apart. He was drooling onto his sheets with a satisfied grin, and something similar but much more copious was bubbling out of his ass. I approached his spent form. The gape. It was massive! I couldn't bear to look at it. Tears filled my eyes as I grabbed his hand and squeezed. "I'm so sorry, Jason. I'm so so sorry! If I had been quicker, if I had been faster at putting it all together tonight, I could have prevented that beast from doing this to you." My son's eyes locked onto mine and he laughed in my face. "What the hell are you talking about, you dumb fuck," he said with a grin, "That man takes better care of me than you ever did. He has been gaping me good every night since we moved in."