Date: Thu, 28 Oct 2021 05:27:13 -0700
From: Tucker <metredose@gmail.com>
Subject: The Haunting of Bellsy Home, Chapter

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or
events is coincidental. No part of this story may be reprinted without
permission. Copyright by Metredose, 2021, and all rights reserved. Comments
and criticism welcome. Metredose@gmail.com

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Chapter 2

Long had they banged in the night, John and Leticia Latimer, bound to this
troubled world, bound to their ancient abode, insensible but filled only
with unbearable longing. They moaned when they passed each other, for they
knew not whom they stirred against in their murmurings, and then their
wails rose up like a high, ratty wind, and all mortals who heard mistook it
for such if they were unwary and did not flee.

They stirred not on Yuletide, but on All Hollow's Eve they felt their power
and their fury, and then they sought each other and knew something of their
sad past, decade upon ruined decade before, and then they mingled. The
particles of their beings, their spirits, swirled together wildly, faintly
glowing in the blackness, but they could not merge, and in the mornings
after they always parted and resumed their desolate ramblings.

Something changed when Duke and Tuck appeared in their home, something at
first indefinable. They felt it suddenly, and knew not how or why. There
was a change, a new strength, pulled from the ether, it seemed. And it
built from the first appearance, coalesced into something even
stronger. Unlike all the days in all the decades past when the spirits had
roamed Bellsy Home, they shook off their confusion a couple of days before
Halloween arrived. Their power grew, and they knew each other and something
of what they'd gone through, something of what was left unfinished and what
forever bound them to the miserable place.

The darker boy returned, only minutes earlier, and saw the place where
their bones were buried, and called their names for the first time in over
a hundred years. Their power multiplied with the words, and they found they
could control the bare particles of their beings, could move them in ways
they couldn't before, and form them into ghostly visages, shapes of rage
against the cruelty of the boys and what they'd done to the other poor
creature. And then the rage burned and found purpose and they knew what it
was for, and they knocked aside the souls of the two boys and took
possession of their bodies.

It was difficult to retain control. John took Duke's mind first, his
particles infiltrating the gray brain matter, then the very cells. The boy
fought hard, and John realized he was suffocating, that he would lose the
body if it died from lack of oxygen. He didn't panic. He searched the
brain, found the places inside, manipulated them as best he could. The boy
choked and retched. John concentrated and used the force of his being, and
then the boy sucked in a first deep breath. The blood grew rich again with
oxygen and John's being knew what it knew and more, for it was flooded with
memory. Long, hard memory, and merciless.


Poverty had struck early for John Latimer, when he was just a boy of six,
all those many decades before, and poverty then wasn't as it is now. It was
real hardship. It was hardship without any safety net. It was living in a
drafty, thin boarded shack in the dead of winter, never knowing where the
next meal would come from, never knowing if the morning would bring frozen
death or disease that would bring a much worse death because it was
slower. Such was wrought by the untimely passing of John's father when he
was a boy. Before that, things had been okay, had been hopeful, even, but
all fell by the wayside after the terrible blow.

He and his mother huddled for warmth, survived on the slim bits they could
scavenge, or meager charity. They might have died a thousand times the
first winter. Spring was worse for lack of food, a lean season for all, and
little trickled down to them. He learned to hunt because he had to, and
felt lucky that his father's gun wasn't sold. Well, at seven hunting wasn't
easy, but John's father had taught him some, with the foresight that
anything could happen to him at any time, and so the boy that was John
managed to scratch by, and his mother worked on small, nearby farms, and
took to mending for some women in the area for a few extra pennies. And
they got by, just barely, just by the tips of their fingers, but life was
bitter and cruel.

To school the boy went rarely, and then not at all, for he wore rags and
was ashamed. And there was no time for school when survival was so
imperative. John's mother, a dark beauty in her younger days, grew hard by
the elements, and there was no one to court a woman of such low means,
anyway, not anyone who could have helped, for there were a lot of people
who suffered under the same lot in life as them. John had an uncle, a
brother to his father, but he'd gone off not long after John was born, and
so he had no memory of the man, and his mother knew not where he
went. There was no relief for them, no way out, but they both fought tooth
and nail to keep alive.

It was at church where John first saw Leticia, back when he was a boy of
eight, and his heart was immediately smote by her, for she was lovely with
her blonde curls and vibrant eyes, deep blue like the cornflowers of the
fields. He looked for her always at church, her clean, assured presence a
blessing and a fantasy against his ragged life. One day her eyes fell upon
him, and he was transported and filled with love, and could imagine a
better life, all by the grace of her glance. But it was hopeless. He was
nothing, and his life and hers could not come together even in the wildest
of fantasies.

She was the daughter of a rich land owner and lived in a palatial mansion,
white and grander than any in the county. The father, Arba Bellsy, was the
most powerful and respected in that place, in that time, and his reputation
was impeachable, his word inviolate. John knew all this. But something
inside of him would not let go of the girl, Leticia, nor the image of
himself with her in some brilliant future, when they were grown. The
impossible idea wouldn't leave. It became the boy's reason to live.

One day at church, just outside, the boy bowed when the Bellsy family
passed by, and Arba, the father, took notice. He stopped to speak to John's
mother, whom he knew of only vaguely as a woman in need of charity. It was
then that Leticia smiled at him for the first time, despite his rags,
despite his obvious poverty. John was sensible to nothing else, not for a
long time, but later he learned that they were to go to the big white
plantation house so that Arba might do something to help them. It happened
on the next Saturday.

The tension of anticipation tore at the boy for almost a full week. Fear,
elation, caution against being too hopeful, as he was warned by his
mother. She repaired her clothes and his, as best she could, cut his hair,
and then made him bathe as he had rarely done since his father died. And he
looked almost decent when they arrived at the big house, and his mother
passed that mark by a wide margin and looked pretty for the care she had
taken with herself.

They were let in by servants, and then Arba's wife came down and spoke,
telling them that her husband was called away, but had expressed a desire
to help them. She seemed a kindly woman, and she was beautiful like the
daughter, blonde and pale, and impeccably attired. John's mother said
little, but her manners were strong, curtsying, nodding and assenting at
just the right moments. Well, the wife, Julia was her name, seemed to take
a liking to John's mother. They chatted and chatted, and then his mother
told what she could do. She was good at mending, and had references. She
performed tolerable well in the kitchen, though she hadn't been near a
proper one in ages. Julia listened with interest, but then, to their
disappointment, abruptly dismissed them, and that was that. But a week
again later they were summoned back to the house, and Arba and Julia
offered John's mother a job as a personal maid. The mansion had fifteen
house slaves, at least, but Julia, who originally came from Massachusetts,
apparently preferred a white woman as an attendant.

Everything changed after that. They did not move into the big house but
stayed in much smaller lodgings on the property and near to the
house. Their new place was warm and clean, with a wood oven for cooking and
heat, and a tub for washing. It wasn't grand, but it felt like a fairy tale
after what they had endured before. Food was plentiful, too, and life just
got easier.

Lucy, John's mother, attended to the needs of Julia, dressing and bathing
and such, and also looked after Leticia. She had a starchy, rather severe
uniform to wear, supplied by the Bellsys, so in her free time she
concentrated on making new clothes for John, who would now return to
school. Well, he was alright with that, being not too long away, and he was
a smart boy who caught up easily. The teacher praised him often and said it
would've been a waste for a boy like him to skip his education.

After school every day John had work of his own to do. He fed grain to the
chickens, cleaned their and filled their water troughs, collected eggs,
carried food waste to the pigs, and helped with milking. He did anything
that was asked of him, and then got down to homework and then the cooking,
since his mother worked long hours and he had the time. All of this was in
winter, and his hours were full.

Spring, and then summer, brought changes. There was more to do but far more
time to do it, and so John found himself exploring the fields and the woods
around the big house in his free time. It was in the summer that Leticia
was allowed outside more often, and they fell to playing with each other
whenever they could. The girl was quiet but hardly shy, and she seemed to
enjoy spending time with John. For his part, John couldn't have been
happier. The only damper was the presence of Leticia's brother, Henry,
older by two years.

Blonde, with big blue eyes, he looked like the mother, Julia, and like
Leticia too. But he had a temper and wildness about him that was all his
own, although he hid it well when he was in the company of adults. When it
was just he and John and Leticia, his true nature came out. Henry was
imperious, and looked down upon John. He challenged John often, tried to
goad him into fights, and when that didn't work, he found other ways to get
the younger boy into trouble. He pushed John into a local stream and
muddied his clothes, he told lies about the boy to his mother and father,
and he warned that the boy's rough manners would be a poor influence on his
sister. But all of it had no effect, for everyone was aware of Henry's
mischievous streak and his tall tales. And more than that, John never rose
to the bait. He was too happy after having known struggle, and he would
never do a thing that would jeopardize his time with Leticia.

And so Henry simmered and stewed and plotted, looking for his chance to
take the servant boy down. It was ever at the back of his mind. After a
while it was pushed way back , but it was always there. For Henry could see
the beginnings of love blossoming in John and Leticia's hearts for each
other, and knew this would be the younger boy's downfall, some day. Until
then, he bided his time.

The blushed cheeks, the faltering gazes that slowly turned steady, the
pregnant silences, these were the signs that there was love in the air when
John and Leticia were together. John's mother noticed, and warned him
against any foolish notions. Their lot had improved, but they were only
servants, and John shouldn't get his hopes up, she said, but John didn't
accept it. He was under a spell and he believed anything was possible. As
the years went by, he never stopped believing, for the love grew stronger.

It came to a head one lazy summer afternoon when they were both
fifteen. They were just sitting there, in a golden field, away from the
house, away from prying eyes. Always when they were alone now John felt a
stirring in his loins, a hardening in his penis, and that was danger. He
knew to get away when that happened, because his love was such that he
found it difficult to keep control of himself. So they were sitting there,
just looking into each other's eyes, and they moved closer, and John
plucked up a field daisy and tucked it behind Leticia's ear, then leaned
down and found her moist, parted lips. Their first real kiss, and it went
on for too long, and he tore himself away and fled, his extreme arousal
causing discomfort as he walked. And when he saw her again, the next day,
there was a new look in her eyes, steady, sultry, and knowing.

Then John knew that she wanted him too, in the way that married people want
each other, but he couldn't help but kiss her whenever he got the chance,
and it felt like a mere prelude to something bigger and better, but he
always stopped himself, difficult though that was, because he would not
besmirch her reputation any further than that. He tried to keep his
distance, to stay away, but his heart broke in the process, and it was too
much to bear, being away from her. They snuck away, every time they could,
into the woods, where they kissed and kissed, and once her hand fell upon
his steeliness, and he'd gasped and begged her not to tempt him, and she
had obeyed. But he knew that it couldn't remain as it was forever, nor much
longer, even, and he had a mind to ask for her hand, young though he was,
but it never got that far, for Henry had seen them and told all.

Leticia was immediately locked away, and John got a good talking to from
Arba. John, he said, was good and might some day be good enough for his
daughter, but not yet. He encouraged John to continue at school, to become
educated enough to get a nice position in a bank or in sales, and the boy
was grateful and promised to stay away from Leticia until it happened. But
it never happened, not after the disaster that ruined everything.

One day, arriving home from school, he found all their things waiting in
front of the little cottage where they had lived for several years. Lucy's
cheeks were red and raw from crying, and when she managed to speak, she
told John that she was let go and they must move away. Brokenhearted was
John, but he knew he must be strong, so he arranged it, and sooner than it
takes to tell they were back in the old flimsy shack in the oppressive heat
of summer, without a prospect in the world for the future.

She never would tell him what happened, but John found out later, from
Henry, who declared that his father and Lucy had been caught together in
the house by Julia, who'd flown into a rage. When he asked his mother about
it, she said it was not true, but she would say no more, and John, for the
first time in his life, didn't know if he believed her. But it hardly
mattered.

Not satisfied with the result this news had on John, Henry proceeded to
tell it around the village, and soon none were in the dark, and they all
believed it even if John had his doubts. Lucy was shunned and scorned, and
could find no work, not even mending, and so all was up to John. He quit
school, took up hunting again, and took any small job so he could to earn
some coin. It was a hard life again, but the worst of it was losing Leticia
and their dream of being together. That dream, he knew, was now impossible.

Still, he might've stuck it out, but for that first winter away from the
Bellsys, when his mother died, not of cold or hunger, but from a broken
heart. Then John knew that life would be unbearable if he stayed because he
knew he could not endure seeing Leticia wed to another man, which was
inevitable. Well, the boy took to drink, for the first and only time in his
life, and might've kept on with it in his miserable shack had not Letty
paid him a visit one day.

She had done nothing to displease her parents for a long time, and had
built up some trust, which she immediately betrayed when she got the chance
by coming to John. It was afternoon. He hadn't started up drinking quite
yet. When he heard the knock on his door he figured it was someone who had
a job for him, but when he opened it, there she stood, as beautiful and
soft as ever. Her eyes were filled with tears, for she had heard of his
drinking and his hard times from cruel Henry.

John, now a young man, wiped away her tears and she walked into his
arms. They kissed as passionately as they ever had, and then they swore
their love for each other. She would not accept any other man, so long as
she lived, but would wait for him. And he would go off and seek his fortune
and not return until he made it, and could claim her as his bride. She
cared not what her mother or father thought or said, she would be obedient
in all other things, but she would not marry until she could be with John.

Well, his heart opened at this, and thoughts of drink left him
forever. With new determination, he left the only place he had ever known
and went to seek his fortune with just a knapsack of clothes, a small
amount of money, and some utensils. John couldn't think what he was
qualified for besides odds and ends and farm work, but there was no money
in that. He might do it 'til he died and never make a dent in the
world. But there was mining, and living frugal while doing it, and that's
what John decided on. He traveled north, on foot most of the time, and
slowly made his way to Pennsylvania to get a start.

Jobs were easy to come by but the work was hard, yet John scrimped and
saved what he could. He avoided spending on anything that wasn't
necessary. No whiskey, nor camp whores, no extravagances with food, and he
avoided taking anything but real coin, never settling for scrip instead. It
was slow going. John made the best of it, made friendly with the others in
his profession, who came and went like vagabonds. Once he'd made a decent
little pile, he decided to take his chances and gamble with the men one
night, and then he was back to nothing and had to start over again.

He learned from his mistake and kept away from gambling as much as he kept
away from other vices. But it was even slower saving up after that. He
would move from state to state, mine to mine, in search of better wages,
but he never found much improvement. What kept him going was the thought of
Leticia, and the old dream of being her husband. He knew her word was good
and that she was waiting for him.

So little by little he saved, but the years went by fast. His body became
tall and powerful, and he had the strength to work hard and long, and to
withstand a tough way of life, needing little but some warmth at night and
some vittles at breakfast and dinner. He stayed in shacks, often sharing
them to save on expenses, and it was back in Pennsylvania that his luck
took a turn, and that was by meeting a man named Clem Bolger, who was a
foreman and became his shack mate. Clem was a huge, muscular man with
thick, black hair and beard, and hard looking dark eyes, a man to give you
a fright until you got to know him. For along with a barrel chest and arms
whose thickness matched a normal man's legs, he had a deep, thundering
laugh, and he mostly kept a good humor, even when he drank whiskey, which
wasn't too often by the camp's standards.

It was because of Clem that John stayed another season at that mine, for
they got along well and it was a comfortable place to live when compared to
some. New men arrived all the time, some of them rough, but with Clem there
was no need to worry, for anyone who looked at the big man knew he was
someone to respect, for his big temper was as well known as his big laugh,
when once it came out. Amongst these new arrivals was a young redheaded
lad, fair and handsome but not quite a man yet, in John's estimation, and
innocent of the hard ways of miners.

Clem soon took the boy under his wing, and John noticed that Clem took
extra time with this boy to train him in being a miner. On the other hand,
when the redhead, whose name was William, made a mistake, Clem was harsher
with him than he was with the others, and John thought it a pity, for the
boy was polite and even tempered, though a little flighty. And though
young, he had the strong build necessary for the work, and he was happy to
do anything Clem told him, and never complained.

William was teased and hassled by the veteran miners, as youngsters are,
but Clem saw to it that things never went too far, and thus the boy came to
admire Clem with a sense of awe, and felt encouraged and safe despite
Clem's occasional gruffness toward him. It was Clem, with John's
permission, who invited the boy to live with them so Clem could better see
to his well being. At first it was a little rocky. The boy tried too hard
to prove himself with the others, and took to drinking a bit, which he
couldn't hold on no account. Then Clem was harsh with him again, and the
boy soon mended his ways and got to not caring much what the others thought
of him, which was all for the good.

Most nights John stayed inside, reading, or just catching up on rest, and
the other two went out and left him in peace, but sometimes John liked to
go for a walk to clear his head. At such times he thought of Leticia,
counted his money, and finally fell into a gloom. What he had wasn't enough
to set him up in any kind of business worth having, and it seemed like it
might never happen. And then John would fall deeper into his misery for a
while before his resolve was slowly reborn and he felt fortified again for
the long hours and the hard, grim work.

Usually these sojourns took quite a while, but one night John returned
early and was shocked. First the noises, like nothing he could remember
hearing, then he threw open the door, and there was the boy on his belly on
the camp bed with Clem on top of him, buggering him savagely in the dim
lamp light. They faced away from the door and apparently were not aware of
John's presence, for the huge man, who completely covered the redheaded
boy, continued to bugger him, his great, pale buttocks rising up and
clenching forward again and again, at a most violent pace, until he slammed
down a final time and stiffened in guttural release.

John slipped away then, his feelings somewhere between disbelief and
outrage. He knew such things happened. They had almost happened to him when
his father first died and he was unprotected from the scavengers that swept
through his hometown looking for whatever they could take, but that didn't
make it right. A more unchristian act could hardly be imagined, and John
wondered if the boy had been forced. John was so distressed that he was
almost to the point of action. He knew he would do wrong not to tell some
authority of what he'd seen, or at least the camp preacher. But he also
knew that by telling he would utterly destroy two lives. That gave him
pause. He decided to sleep on the matter and pray that the right solution
would come to him.

When John returned, Clem and William were asleep, Clem on the same camp bed
where he had buggered the boy, and William on a cot nearby. He crept in,
undressed and got in his own bed, but slept little. In the mines the next
day it was business as usual. Clem and William acted no differently than
ever before, and John imagined he might have dreamed what happened between
the two. But then he caught a look that was exchanged between them and knew
it was real, for Clem looked at the boy with pointed interest and a big,
stealthy grin, and William blushed and smiled back demurely.

That night Clem told William to go fetch something from the camp store, and
when he was alone with John, told him that he knew that John had seen
them. He wanted to know what John was going to do about it, whether he and
William should leave before trouble found them. Put on the spot, John said
he would keep it to himself so long as he never saw them that way again,
and Clem promised John wouldn't. Things were uneasy after that, John always
a little worried when he opened the front door to their cabin, but there
was no repeat of the disturbing incident, and things gradually got back to
normal. Clem and William snuck off most nights, and John had an idea of
what they were up to, but he held his tongue and tried to banish the whole
thing from his mind.

It wasn't easy. The loving looks exchanged by Clem and William were hard to
miss when you knew to look for them. The looks William threw at Clem were
so like expressions John had seen on Leticia's face when she used to look
at him that they brought back painful remembrance. As fall turned to
winter, the two were forced to stay inside much of the time, and their
stifled passion was thick in the air, and John gave up. He knew he might go
to the devil for it, but he couldn't stand in the way, and so he took to
taking long walks, letting Clem and William know precisely how long he
would be gone each time. Well, he knew what they would be doing in his
absence, his soul be damned, and he no longer cared.

Winter broke back to spring, and then Clem got to talking about leaving,
dropping hints that he would like John to join he and William for a new
endeavor. Always the word endeavor was used, and it piqued John's interest
when the big man said it like that. They started to pack up what little
they had, and then Clem laid it out for John what he had in mind. There was
a piece of property up north a bit that he and a friend of his had long had
their eyes on as being a suitable place to set up a new mine. It was risky,
but they had reason to believe that it would pay off. Clem told John some
things he told the younger man he could never repeat, and he never said how
he came by the information, but John grew more and more excited, for Clem
had never told him wrong yet, and the new mine sounded like the opportunity
he had been waiting on.

It meant parting with his money, and it meant trusting a man almost
completely, and John was not one to blindly trust anyone. But he was won
over, and he was soon packing his meager belongings too, and then all three
of them set out north and met up with Clem's old friend, who was named Tam
McLaughlin. Tam, too, was a big man, like Clem but fair. His pale, watery
eyes were keen, and he let loose with plenty of information about the
potential mine and what it would cost them. The land was cheap, and their
resources together could easily buy it, which they did. But setting up in
the mining business would cost a lot more, and for that they needed a loan.

Now Tam, he was a wheeler dealer, and mighty convincing. The three of them
worked on the bank man, and together they were a force to be reckoned with,
for Tam and Clem knew their stuff and they had a plan, and John's stable
presence and obvious intelligence, not to mention experience in the field,
were only reassurance of what already looked like a good team. They got the
loan and they got to work. Well, it was a long time before they actually
got to digging and blasting, endless preparation and stops and starts, but
once they got to it the coal was not long in coming.

John worked harder than he ever had, and so did the others, even William,
who had the energy of youth on his side. Day in, day out they worked, from
sun up to sun down, and they were so dark with coal dust when they got back
to camp that they all looked like Negroes, and the water ran black when
they washed. Hard labor, sometimes tedious, and then hiring more and more
men to get all that coal, and then finding the best buyers, well there was
transport to deal with, too, and problems with the camp and supplies, since
they were far from everything, but somehow it all chugged along, and if
they were exhausted deep down to their bones, it was an exhaustion tempered
by the satisfaction of success.

Their bank accounts swelled, and then the big coal mining operations took
notice. Now, these operations did not like competition from no upstart
small timers, and they offered to buy the company out for a big sum, and
that sounded mighty good to John, who only wanted enough to settle down
with Leticia, but Clem and Tam turned it down, and the mine kept
prospering, and when the big companies come 'round again, they were more
worried than ever, and offered the men twice what they done before for the
mine, and still Clem and Tam said no, but the companies kept offering
bigger money and John hoped the other men would give in.

In the meantime, his money piled up. Much had to be reinvested in the
business, but there was plenty left over, and John started getting big
ideas. There was land back home he wanted, a big area with fields and a
stream and a large pond and some woods, the best place he knew and the best
hunting. And so John wrote a letter to a lawyer he trusted from back then,
and he retained him to carry out his wishes. This land was bought, five
hundred acres worth, and then John instructed that a house should be built,
a grand house, and an architect hired for the job after submitting the best
design. All this went on for months, the back and forth, and then the
designs started flowing in, and John picked the grandest one, and his house
would be in the Gothic revival style, different from what was usual in the
part of the world, but with American ideas in mind, and so not too over
fanciful. A construction crew was hired and no expenses were to be spared.

The mine kept growing at a pace as more coal was uncovered, and it was said
to be a vast deposit, and John still worked hard and so did Clem, William
and Tam, and when the big coal operations came a callin' again John was
sorely disappointed to be overruled in his desire to sell. He confronted
Clem about it, offered to sell directly to him, but Clem told him to hold
off a while and not waste a once in a lifetime opportunity through
hastiness. But John was now restless and his heart ached for Letty and it
ached for a place to call home, and so he grew a bit quarrelsome, but Clem
knew why and forgave him. For two years longer they went at it, and then
one of the big operations, the biggest of all, offered to buy them out for
a price they couldn't refuse.

And so they accepted, and so they took time to celebrate, and gave out big
bonuses to the workers, who could stay or go as they pleased, but those
bonuses were enough to set them up in modest concerns outside mining if
they chose, and then those miners were fed the best meal of their lives,
beef, turkey, all the fixings, prepared by a real cook, and if that didn't
leave 'em satisfied nothing would. John grew giddy with anticipation, but
there was a sadness in his heart, too, at having to say goodbye to Clem and
William and Big Tam. Well, they were men, so they didn't get too
sentimental, except for William, a little, him being still a youth and
sensitive like.

They parted ways, rich men all of them. Tam headed east, to New York, and
Clem and William went west, where they hoped for a free life. John went
first to St. Louis, where he got himself a good tailor, and set himself up
with some fine new clothes. His health hadn't failed him, but he knew he
was older, and he wanted to make an impression on the town when he
returned, and especially on Letty. The house he had commissioned was nearly
finished, and it only waited for the bride and groom.

Back home, he stayed at the best hotel around, and arranged his accounts,
and got to spending on properties he might improve and let out later for a
profit. The town was little changed, and John was not recognized nor did he
recognize many himself. It didn't matter. Leticia was really the only
person on his mind and in his heart, yet his courage failed him for a
while. Asking around the town gave him some information, which he knew
already from the lawyer. She yet lived and she had not married. At her age
of twenty five she was considered a spinster, but it wasn't for lack of
trying on the part of the local gentlemen of quality. It was simply that
she refused all offers, and it was said she pined for a lost love.

Well, John knew whom she pined for, yet his courage still failed him. He
wanted to get himself civilized after the hard and uncouth life he'd led
for so long. He was unsure of how she would look at him now, how she would
like him, and a dejected feeling consumed him. He took to reading and
overseeing the final touches on his new home, and ordering furnishings for
it. And time slowly went by with no progress on the personal front, for
John, who had come so far through trial and travail, stalled out when he
was close enough to taste his dreams.

Then a letter arrived at the hotel, and it was from her. Why, she wondered,
hadn't he come to see her? She had been waiting for him for years, and just
to see him would be a great pleasure. She'd heard that he looked
prosperous, and wanted to see for herself, and wanted to hear what it meant
for them. Her mother, she mentioned, had died in his absence, but her
father and brother lived on, her brother long since married, and with three
children now. Wouldn't he come by the old house and see her? She would be
waiting for him as she had for so many years.

He felt guilty by the letter, and made up his mind to take the plunge. In
his best suit, and freshly bathed and primped, he called on her, left a
message with a servant. Arba, older and gray, but still spry, came down to
greet him, and it was a happy reunion, for Arba knew most of what John had
accomplished. He had no objection when John asked him for Letty's hand, and
then she appeared at the top of the stairs and he bounded up to meet
her. Well, she was changed, a little, and that was inevitable, because she
was no longer a girl but a full grown woman. They stared at each other, and
he took in her appearance. Still as lovely as ever, she was, but there was
a small, deep line furrowed into her lower forehead, a little above the
space between her brows, that gave her a slightly careworn look, and he
knew she had suffered just as he had.

It touched his heart, more than anything that day. He was determined to
make certain that her cares were over. When they set down to tea, Arba
excused himself, and John took her hands into his and just stared into her
eyes for a long time. They told their tales of the years gone by, the
missing years, and slowly got reacquainted, and then he asked her if she
still wanted to be his wife, and when she said she did his heart was fuller
than it had ever been, and he asked her formally and told her that Arba had
no objections. And then the line on her forehead seemed to disappear, and
it was like she was a girl again, giddy with the joy of the future, and
they set a wedding date.

A simple affair, as she wanted, was the wedding. He, having no known
relatives, invited only his lawyer, and she only her father and a few
friends. The brother, Henry, did not come, and it was just as well, because
he was in a temper over the union, and strenuously objected. John met him
once, at the Bellsy mansion in passing, and wouldn't have recognized him,
for he had grown plump and his skin was the glowing shade of red that comes
with heavy drinking, especially his nose. Leticia confided that he was a
gambler in addition, and a disappointment to her father, having never
achieved much on his own standing. And so he was absent from the church,
and his absence was barely noted, so happy were the rest of the wedding
party.

John pledged his eternal love and devotion, and promised to always take
care of her, his great, lifelong love. Leticia promised her undying love,
too, and her obedience, as was expected of a bride in those days, and then
they exchanged rings and kissed. The party after was at the Bellsy estate,
and they all toasted with the best wine, and had cake, and then John and
Leticia ducked out, as he wanted to show her the new home, which was hers,
and she hadn't been inside, so there was much to see. He had another reason
for wanting to be alone with her, as any virgin groom would know.

They took his carriage to their new home, the road up to the magnificent
dwelling having been cleared and smoothed, and then John set up the horses
in the newly built stables while Letty admired the house from the
outside. It was tall and imposing, with intricate carvings at the great
arches and windows, doors and turrets, and it looked fresh and new, if
perhaps a little ominous, even then. He swept her up into his arms, not
giving her much of a chance to look, and carried her over the threshold,
and she stared in wonder at the tall entry room and grand doublestaircase,
and the rich furnishings, but she wasn't distracted for long, for his head
bowed down for a kiss while he carried her up the stairs, and she got lost
in it. The journey was long, as there were three main floors to the home,
but finally he stopped in a large bedroom on the top floor, all laid out
and made up, and set her on a sumptuous bed.

Still in her wedding dress, she struggled to free herself from it, and he
helped her get it off. Then he tore away his own clothes, and laid down
next to her on the bed, both of them as naked as the day they were
born. Her body was lovely to him, white and so elegantly proportioned, and
his a little darker, and hard after years of strenuous activity, a contrast
in flesh. His member was rampant, wild with need, but he caressed her only,
letting her grow accustomed to their nudity and to the idea of the
momentous event which would soon overwhelm them both. It took her no time
at all, and she reached for him, took him in her delicate hand, and guided
him toward her wet place.

In another instant they would have been one, forever. In another instant,
they would have found ultimate fulfillment. But like a flash, fate, cruel,
cruel fate, intervened. A figure in shadow darted to the marriage bed,
struck a tremendous blow with a heavy ax that crushed John's skull with a
sick, crunching thud, his member no more than an inch from her opening. His
body convulsed, and blood gushed onto the white wedding sheets, and her
piercing shriek was cut short by another blow, and then she was silent and
gushing, too, and their dreams were at an end.


All of this and more, John knew. He didn't need to think of the individual
memories. It all came back to him at once, and all of it was stored inside,
somehow. The boy was breathing easier now, with John's assistance, but he
needed to get moving, for he knew what he had to do and he knew he didn't
have long to do it. The blonde boy downstairs moaned and said his name, and
he knew that it was Leticia calling to him.

It was a struggle to sit up, to manipulate all those mental impulses in the
boy and send them along the right nerves to make the simple motion
happen. It was like playing a marionette, and it took some practice to know
which strings to pull, and how hard, and how to pull several at a time, and
also to remember about the breathing, and how to coordinate it all. John
focused, as hard as he could. He set a fist onto the ground, tried to
maneuver Duke's body up onto his feet, but he couldn't do it and tumbled
down again. It was maddening, to be so close yet so powerless to proceed.

He tried again, more slowly this time, and gradually got the boy's body
onto its knees. Trying to maintain his balance while moving was very
difficult, and it was an incredible struggle to straighten up and rise to
his feet without falling again, but he did it. The boy swayed but did not
tip over. John felt sea sick, and worked hard to stay steady on his feet,
really the boy's feet, but he was in control. Yet the boy struggled against
him. He could feel something like internal shoves inside the brain as the
boy tried to dislodge his control, but John held on, and eventually learned
to shove right back, and knock the boy away.

A first wobbly step, and then another, and he was at the top of the
staircase, looking down. He gripped the banister, almost fell again, then
took a step down, and then another. He stopped, reassembled his faculties,
and proceeded down stiffly and in a most graceless manner, until he made it
to the first floor. There, near the threshold, lay the blonde boy, he who
contained his lover, Leticia, inside.

It was another adjustment to walk on the flat again. John moved slowly,
ponderously, until Letty lay at his feet. He looked down at her open eyes,
which suddenly flashed a glowing, inhuman blue, and that was the sign, for
the color was only a more vibrant shade of Leticia's real eyes. He made his
eyes flash green, as they had been in his own body. John knelt down beside
her, and she struggled to sit up.

"Letty, is it really you?" John said.

"Yes," she sighed.

"My beloved, at last we are flesh and bone again."

"You must help me," she said.

He bent his head down and put his lips on hers, and the boy struggled
mightily from within, but nothing could shake John off then.

"Hurry," she sighed, from within the blonde boy.

John knew what to do. Every particle inside told him. He was powerfully
aroused and there would be no stopping them this time. He struggled to rise
again, then struggled out of the boy's clothes in jerks and fits until he
was naked, the boy's huge, burgeoning organ standing high and proud in
front of him. Down he went again, this time to help Letty. She could move
but slightly, so he helped her out of the strange shirt she wore, then out
of the shoes, and then finally slid the pants down the blonde boy's smooth
hips until his legs were free.

Letty's face was placid, but then a look of pure rage distorted her face,
and John knew the blonde boy was pushing against her, trying to throw her
off.

"You must hurry!" Letty said.

It was John and Letty inside, but both bodies were those of young men. John
remembered Clem with the redheaded boy, and knew what to do, yet he
wouldn't do exactly the same because he wanted to kiss her and look into
her eyes. She was on her back, and he crouched over her, smothering her
with kisses, and then he lifted the coltish legs up and pressed them back,
and he spit several times and coated the monstrous organ, then aligned it
with the small, warm opening.

Hunching down, he kissed her on the lips again. He knew it would be painful
for her. Such a tiny opening was not made to fit a gigantic appendage such
as the darker boy wielded, yet there was no help for it. He pressed against
the hot, velvety spot, then pulled her to him as he lunged forward with his
hips and buried himself. She screamed into his kisses, and he held still
until her pain was bearable, and then he started moving back and forth
inside, and she gasped with something like the sound of pleasure, though it
couldn't have been from the physical act, but was rather for the long
awaited consummation.

He tore his mouth from hers, rose back a bit and peered into her eyes. They
were sultry, satisfied, and then in an instant they quivered and looked
shocked, and that was the blonde boy asserting himself from inside, but
Letty fought back and looked straight into the darker boys possessed eyes,
and it seemed like they would drown in each other, John and Leticia. Back
and forth he moved, the tight flesh surrounding him like the grip of a
velvet glove, and his hand roamed the blonde boy's body, trying to bring
Letty pleasure, trying to feel something of what he would have felt if they
were in their own proper bodies. The blonde's chest was smooth, with tiny,
pointed nipples, and then he roamed down the flat, rippled belly and found
a slender, curved stalk, hard as can be, and with a slight, sticky
moisture, but it was too much, too unlike her real body, and he
relinquished it and fell to kissing her again, and then the image of her
past loveliness was with him and he sped up his movements, for he was near
the end and could feel the seed rising up from within.

At that moment, the flesh around him tightened in a rough squeeze, then
relaxed, and did it again and again, and John knew the blonde boy was
spending himself, and spending himself only because of John's movements
inside his body, and Letty was shrieking, now in unmistakable pleasure, and
then John lunged himself hard inside a couple of times, and was still. The
body he possessed trembled, from the curling toes to the twitching
fingertips, and then the feeling concentrated in the darker boy's organ and
it fired ferociously inside the blonde boy's passage, into the flesh
possessed by Letty. The feeling took John's breath away and it caused him
to cry out with lusty nonsense, deep pitched roars in contrast the Letty's
high shrieks, and it went on and on, and it felt like he was shooting the
whole world inside of her through the boy's rampant organ.

Gradually it subsided. For a moment John felt the purest pleasure in his
soul, the sweetest contentment. Letty sighed a final time, and then he
collapsed on top of her and the light went from her eyes, and then it went
from his. There was no one to witness it, their final moments on this
earth, for Duke and Tuck were gone, lost to consciousness. A mist rose from
the bodies into the dim light, rose and swirled, and then straightened
before passing through the ceiling of the fated house, and then up into the
heavens. John and Leticia were finally free.


How long were they out, these boys who had been used as hosts by powers
beyond them? How long did they lay there, still curled into each other? It
was a while, to be sure, a long rest, but when it started to pass, when
first Duke and then Tuck began to issue muffled sounds, Duke was still
powerfully aroused, and his thick, thick organ was still wedged inside of
Tuck's asshole. The blonde boy's legs had fallen from Duke's grasp in their
sleep, but Duke was still firmly mounted onto the pegged blonde.

Duke stirred first. His mind was in a fog, a disbelieving fog, but he could
hardly fail to note the state of things, nor could he ignore the intense
pleasure of being inside of another person. He grunted, pushed forward, and
Tuck's eyelids slowly lifted, to reveal groggy, confused eyes. Duke stared
into them for a moment, and the confusion was plain, but there was no
terror nor objection when Duke lifted up Tuck's legs again. The passage was
slick and Duke's passion was high, and he was soon rutting old Tuck like a
bull in heat.

It was heaven. Pure heaven. Duke had never felt anything so good. The warm,
wet tightness, the feeling of the internal lining itself, so smooth and
velvety against his erection, the power of being on top of another person,
and in control. And Tuck's reactions, his gentle grunts and groans, the way
he was still and just took what Duke gave him, well, it just couldn't have
been better. The voices inside were quiet, too, the voices of his parents,
his friends, his religion, those disapproving voices that had guided Duke's
life. They could not stand against the force of nature, against the primal
need to copulate and spread seed. Duke sweat and rutted, and instinct
guided him. He dug himself hard and deep into Tuck, without pause, without
variation, relentlessly pursuing his goal of release.

Tuck got there before Duke, and it only seemed right. It started with Tuck
shimmying and shivering all over, and then suddenly Tuck's passage gripped
him hard, again and again, and Duke knew it was happening for his blonde
friend. Tuck's hands and arms lay by his side, and there wasn't nothing
getting Tuck off but Duke's big cock rooting around inside his asshole, and
this was the ultimate high for Duke. He'd always tried to be responsible,
tried to be a man, but for the first time he really felt like one. He
shoved forward against the tightenings and releasings going on in Tuck's
body, fought his way in a final time, lodged in as deep as he could, then
stiffened and exploded, sending thick gushers of seed straight up into
Tuck's stretched out innards, which were soon flooded, for it was a load
that had been building for years, and even the one right before it did not
diminish its volume or potency.

It was a long release, and it wracked Duke's entire body. His cock was so
stiff , and firing so hard, that it actually hurt, though of course it was
intensely pleasurable, too. His toes had curled and were locked that way,
and the muscles of his belly were cramping because he was hunched up over
and into Tuck, and the rest of his muscles shook with the power of the
release. He was breathing heavily and loudly, as if he had just completed a
marathon, and sweat trickled down from his face and joined the sweat on his
chest, to trickle down his belly together. After a while, the contractions
stopped and Duke's balls were empty, but he did not relinquish his claim on
Tuck's asshole and he didn't soften up even a little bit. For Duke knew he
could go again, could go a dozen more times, even, and in a few minutes,
once the sensitivity went down a bit, he intended to start right back up
again.

Tuck was pegged in place by the huge, pressing cock inside of him. His
shapely legs were hitched over Duke's wide shoulders, and he was nearly
bent in two. Duke began to move again, digging into Tuck's passage with
renewed vigor, and Tuck trembled all over and exploded again, mere seconds
into the new rutting, and again without help from his hand. This emboldened
Duke into a desperate pace, for the muscles clenching around him spurred
him on, and he mated Tuck's blonde, convulsing ass with rough violence,
widening, stretching the elastic passage almost to the breaking point, and
then going feverish and at such a pace as Tuck could scarcely endure, or
even breath, and he was being ridden so hard that his orgasm started up
again, and it was now dry and maddening, and finally Duke slammed into him
hard and roared with another powerful release, his big dick strangled as he
shot by the spasms in Tuck's hole.

They were covered in sweat, the both of them. Duke peered down into Tuck's
eyes and held his gaze. His cock remained stiff as iron, and it gave no
quarter to Tuck's abused asshole. And then Tuck turned away from Duke's
gaze, and he began to struggle, his tender calves flailing uselessly above
Duke's back. Although he was loath to do it, Duke slowly disengaged
himself. Despite his overwhelming desire to continue, he recognized that
Tuck wanted to be freed, and he wouldn't force the boy. The temptation was
strong, though. Mighty strong.

He set Tuck's legs down, and the blonde shot to his feet. There was a wild
look in his eyes. No longer was the confusion there, just fear. Tuck looked
around him, saw his clothes nearby, and started pulling them on as fast as
he could.

"You okay, Tuck?" Duke said.

The words had no effect. Tuck didn't answer, and he was wobbly on his feet
when he tried to tie his shoes, so finally sat down for the job.

"I wish you would calm down," Duke said. "We need to talk about what
happened."

"I don't know what happened," Tuck said. "But I know it was fucked up. This
place made us crazy."

Finished with his shoes, Tuck stood, and Duke walked over to him.

"Don't be afraid," he said.

His voice was deep and caring, and for a moment Tuck hesitated. Duke was
still fully naked and his massive erection hadn't subsided the tiniest
bit. When Tuck looked at him, looked into Duke's eyes, he felt woozy,
uncertain. They held each other's gaze, long and hard, and then Duke gently
took Tuck's hand and placed it on his raging manhood. Tuck had long,
slender fingers, and they wrapped around Duke as best they could, though
the fingertips didn't come anywhere close to meeting Tuck's thumb when
wrapped around the prodigious meat. Then Duke bent down to kiss Tuck, and
the blonde boy faltered.

"I can't do this," Tuck said.

He broke the gaze, released Duke's cock, and turned and ran out the
door. Duke felt pangs in his heart, and went over to dress. He knew there
was no point in chasing after Tuck, not with the blonde's speed in
running. Duke was built bigger, more muscular, and had never been able to
match Tuck that way, but even so, he ran as fast as he could when he was
dressed. Duke's truck was still there when he got to it, but Tuck's was
long gone.

The pangs in Duke's heart had turned into an ugly, empty feeling. He knew
he had to find Tuck. He looked at his watch, and it was eight in the
evening, much earlier than Duke expected. There was still time to go to the
dance. Not to see his girlfriend, Mary Ellen. She wasn't even on Duke's
radar. He wanted to see if Tuck was there. He reckoned he was, because Tuck
wouldn't want to go back home to his Daddy in an emotional state. Anyway,
Duke meant to find out. He meant to search the town until he found Tuck,
because there was something inside of him, something powerful, that drew
him to Tuck now, and he knew that it wasn't going to go away any time
soon. And he was astonished to realize that he didn't want it to.