//------------------------------// // Needing someone to Love // Story: Momma // by Opium4TmassS //------------------------------// The snow was still falling from the sky. Had been for the past week blanketing the world around us in silence and ice. Winter is always the quietest of seasons. It isolates people from each other in a world of cold and white. It was December. Christmas was a week away and I felt as alone as our barren fields. The loneliness made me spend more and more time away from my family as the days became weeks. Then the weeks became a month. Liza hardly talked to me as she still carried the grudge from me not telling her about the death of Old Tom. It hurt when I would catch her staring daggers into me. My father was in a permanent upbeat mood which I have to confess worried more than reassured me with his constant smile and sunny attitude. He seemed distant and not all there in the head. I even noticed more cuts and bandages on him. Every time I asked about them he would either pretend he didn't hear me, ignore the question, change the subject or outright lie to my face until I just stopped asking. The only one who seemed to want me around was Applejack. Time after time she tried to reach out to me and let me know it didn't have to be this way. But I was angry at her for existing and at my family for how they were acting. Looking back now I realize I was just angry at everything. Stress begot stress and before long it started to affect my dreams.  During this time I never could remember them but when I awoke I was drenched in sweat. My heart pounded a million miles a minute and all I could do was gaze out across the barren fields to the woods beyond the farm, the place where Old Tom's killer hid. I don't know how long I would have lasted with the anger and the nightmares. All I know is that they stopped on the first day one of the pigs died. With that I had a new direction and a goal that needed to be met. I'd just pulled out some generic Rice Krispies when Uncle Larry pounded on the backdoor looking for my dad. I told him that he was in bed as was everyone else which made Uncle Larry scowl. Without saying a word I followed him out to the enclosure where the pigs were. When we arrived Mr. Greer was already finished stretching some wire across the hole in the fence.  I looked questioningly at the two of them before Uncle Larry piped up, "Only one of them's missing. Lulabelle." Lulabelle was a two hundred pound sow that didn't move unless she wanted to move. The other pigs tended to defer to her. Yet, all I could do was ask, "Why didn't the rest of the pigs make a break for it?" Mister Greer looked over at me and spat, "When we came by here the rest of the pigs were huddled up on the far end." "They were too scared," said Uncle Larry, "But don't worry, we're going to head out and find whatever it was that did this.  We don't need to keep losing livestock." "I'm coming too," I said. "No you're not.  We'll get your dad." "You can't rely on him," I shouted as my eyes welled up, "Look at him, he's all cut up and oversleeps!  He doesn't even..." Uncle Larry pulled me into an embrace and held me close.  After a bit he sighed and said, "We know." "It's important Uncle Larry." "Hey Larry, just give him the Calico. It doesn't kick that bad and he's gone hunting before," said Mr. Greer who spat again, "It left a clear trail...besides...maybe he'll get lucky." The three of us followed the trail to the forest line.  As we walked I wondered if that thing was watching us beyond the trees. I wondered what was going through its mind right now. Did it view us as a threat or food?  Regardless we trekked on into the woods until we came upon the body of the late Lulabelle. I squinted my eyes against the harsh winter wind. Uncle Larry and Mr. Greer stared at the pig, its twisted and eviscerated body splayed on the once white snow below. Its unhinged jaw was stuck in a sick grin as its eyes stared into nothing. "How long has she been dead?" I asked. "I figure since around four in the morning give or take. Snuck up on her...never saw it...," Uncle Larry's voice trailed off.  He had a faraway look in his eyes while staring at the corpse. I knew that look. I'd seen it before when someone brought up the war and he had to remember something he didn't want to recall. "She was killed out here," Mr. Greer said more to himself, "But...how did one animal sneak up on and drag a two hundred pound pig to this point and kill it here?  She'd have put up a hell of a fight." "There's something else," said Uncle Larry, "Look around...do you see any tracks away from here?" "Well, it's been snowing," I said. "Not that hard." I felt my stomach drop at what he thought.  It was big and it wasn't far away.  Chances are it was watching us and waiting to strike. Mr. Greer knelt by the corpse and began to examine it.  As he did he pointed out that for a fresh kill there were a lot of blackened and rotting areas near where it had been attacked.  He also said that the bites on the pig were unlike anything he'd seen before. "Okay," said Uncle Larry snapping out of whatever thoughts had occupied his mind, "Fan out twenty yards apart. Stay in view of one another. Greer you keep on the left, Joseph the right. Got it?" We both nodded at him and hunted. Slowly, cautiously, as we were sure that at any moment that thing would bear down on us to rip each of us apart. But the woods were silent that day and we returned home with nothing. The squeal ripped through the quiet night jolting me up from my bed. Like the scream of a person in pain the cry hung in the air. The pig killer was back. I jolted from my bed, quickly dressed and I was prepared to rush downstairs with my axe handle. I threw open the door to my room and saw Liza out there already in her Pokémon onesie. She covered her ears and cried. "Make it stop. Make it stop," she shrieked out between sobs. "Hold on Liza I'm going to go and take care of it," I yelled over the cries as I ran down the hallway hitting the stairs two at a time with only one thought running through my mind, kill that son of a bitch. "Stop right their son," said a harsh voice I hadn't heard in a long time. It was a voice that stopped me in mid leap. It was my father talking to me as he stepped out of his bedroom. Using a tone I almost forgot he was capable of having. "Just where do you think you're going in the middle of the night like this?" he demanded. "The pigs!" I yelled back at him as I pointed out towards the pens. "Something is killing the pigs." I stared at him wondering if he didn't hear the cries that were going on. I saw Applejack brush past the both of us as she gently picked up Liza who was still trying to drown out the noise with her hands and cradle her in her arms in an attempt to calm her down. No sooner had Applejack embraced Liza that my father's blank stare returned as if lost in thought.  He stood stock still and at that moment I thought he was going to open the gun cabinet and we were going to take care of it. Then he spoke, "Just let it be son, there's nothing we can do to save it." My mouth went agape. I could not believe what he'd just said. This was our farm, our heritage. How could he just turn his back to our family's livelihood as if what was happening was unimportant?  After a minute I squeezed the axe handle in my hand and made my way for the back door shouting, "Bullshit!" He was on me in a second.  His grip on the top of the axe handle tightened and with a jerk of his arm my father wrenched my weapon from my grasp and sent me crashing into the dining room table.  I turned over and saw the coldest eyes I'd ever seen glaring back at me. "Don't you ever disobey me boy! Don't you ever," he shouted as he raised the handle. "Luke," hissed Applejack, "Don't you even think about it! That ain't like you and you know it" On command his gaze softened and his hand trembled.  Slowly he lowered the handle to his side as his shoulders slumped in shame. "I'm...I'm sorry Apple..." "I'm not the one you should be saying anything to Luke and you know it," said Applejack firmly. "Go back to bed Joseph. It will end soon enough and in the morning," he knelt down and patted my head weakly, "We'll fix the damage and clean up the mess." Slowly he stood up and turned away taking the handle with him.  He muttered something of an 'I'm sorry' as he disappeared into the night.  Applejack followed him, still holding Liza and doing her best to comfort her. "Would you like to sleep with us tonight?" I heard her ask Liza as she glided along. I saw my sister nod her head as they walked back to their bedroom. There was a click as the door shut leaving me alone in the hallway listening to the squeals of the dying pig getting weaker and weaker. Slowly I pulled myself up from by the table, my shoulder sore from where I banged into it. I looked up the stairs for what felt like a very long time. I didn't cry.  Yet, somehow I knew deep inside that my father wasn't my father anymore and never would be again. It was Christmas Eve when Uncle Larry, Mr. Greer and I made our fourth attempt at finding the thing that was slaughtering our livestock.  My shoulder was still sore but I'd kept my mouth shut as to what happened to the others and made up a story about something happening at school.  I could tell Uncle Larry didn't believe me but he also didn't question it any further as we made our way through the forest. We'd gotten a late start due to a church service but when we had we'd covered a fair amount of ground as we silently walked through the snow, its crunch the only sound between us.  The three of us travelled like that for hours until the shadows lengthened and the light began to dim. In that time we'd made our way to Thrush Run. Thrush was not quite a river but not quite a creek.  It was deep enough in many areas to where an average adult could become completely submerged. At one point it was noted for its fishing but over time runoff from nearby farms had limited the viability of that activity to carp, bluegill and the occasional crappie. State officials had promised to clean up the Thrush but little was done and the dark waters proved to be more of a threat than a boon at that point. We followed the Thrush downstream to find in the hope of finding a trail. As we walked Mr. Greer swore that he believed we were hunting a puma but none of us believed it.  This was something new, and infinitely more dangerous.  It was something we had to put down before it decided that getting into a house was its best choice. CRACK! The sound of a snapping tree branch sent me pointing my gun at the direction from which it came, a particularly dense clump of trees and vines. I quickly glanced back to check where the other two walked.  They were close but not close enough to be of any real help. Slowly I readied my rifle in anticipation of whatever it was that was in there.  Time and my breathing slowed to a crawl and deep down inside I wondered if I could kill it. No, I had to kill it. CRACK! The sound of another tree branch snapping echoed through the silent empty forest. My senses tuned in to the world around me. I heard or thought I heard the shuffling of hooves rustling around in the snow. Whatever it was was beyond my line of sight and it was coming my way.  My tongue moved across my chapped lips as I took aim. "Come on. Poke your head out," I whispered. The world held its breath as did I.  Mentally I began a countdown as I waited. Three...two... Then everything exploded as something too fast for my eyes to catch broke free from its hiding place. My heart leapt into my chest as it knocked me to the ground and bolted past. I thrashed about on the ground wanting to scream until the rational part of my brain kicked in and told me it was just a deer. I breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled to myself as I watched in the direction the spooked animal went.  I lowered my rifle and shook my head in disbelief.  Truthfully I should have thought for a moment as to what exactly spooked it. From behind me the soft crunch of snow was audible.  The sickeningly sweet smell of rotten flesh and death soon wrapped itself around. I gagged on it. The monster was behind me, its breath on my neck. My heart began to pound hard and fast in my chest.  I glanced down at the rifle in my right hand.  I muttered a short prayer in the hope that I wouldn't die. Yet I knew I probably would. I attempted to wheel about and shoot the thing but it caught me mid turn.  With the swat of one of its massive limbs, the dark thing knocked the rifle from my grip. Its other limb lifted me off of the ground.  I shrieked and struggled as I punched and kicked this thing that I couldn't describe as anything but pure evil. Then, as if tossing a rag doll it chucked me head over heels into the icy water of the Thrush. Panic set in as my heavy winter clothes, now soaked with the black waters began to weigh me down as the current pulled me along.  Deep down inside I knew that it was the same thing that got Old Tom and Lulabelle.  Then as I turned back to shore I saw the top of something red making its way toward me from the water before being pulled under and darkness soon followed. At first it felt like I wasn't in myself.  The darkness was quiet and a part of me struggled to breathe but couldn't.  I tried to scream but couldn't and I thought I was dead.  Then in the distance I could hear the voices of Uncle Larry and Mr. Greer.  I could feel the cold working its way through my skin and bones.  Finally I felt myself heave and water exit my lungs. I coughed and shook.  Every muscle in my body clenched so tightly I thought my bones would break. I was back in the land of the living and it hurt. Without a word Uncle Larry picked me up and began to carry me as Mr. Greer followed close behind. I asked through clenched teeth if they got it. "Nothing was around when we saw you floating near the shore.  I was sure you were a goner kid," said Mr. Greer. "Don't worry about that shit right now," cursed Uncle Larry joining in the profanity, as he took off his coat and draped it over my coughing body. "We're getting you home now!" Consciousness came and left as Uncle Larry carried me home.  However, in one of my moments of consciousness my gaze focused on the woods and the strange red something that I'd seen approaching me from the water.  It looked like a bow of some sort.  Yet, no sooner had I seen it that it disappeared back into the woods and I drifted off, not waking up until I was home. It was almost New Year's Eve when the world around me started to make sense again. I'd spent the better part of those days either unconscious or medicated.  When I finally did make sense of things they started coming to me in bits and pieces.  Familiar faces would occasionally visit my bedside.  One of the more frequent ones was my stepmother, Applejack. She was the first one to meet us at the door with Liza close behind when we arrived back at the farm and promptly lambasted Uncle Larry and Mr. Greer for taking me out on such a foolish hunt. "He could have been killed," she snapped as she held me close as I violently trembled, "Heck he still could die and if he does you two are responsible!" I remember that when she spoke the concern in her face. However, I also noticed something else when she glanced out to the woods and that was fear.  Applejack knew whatever it was that was out there.  I just didn't know how close they were. Uncle Larry and Mr. Greer looked down at the ground and mumbled their apologies before heading off at Applejack's insistence. In spite of myself I felt myself clutch her as she brought me upstairs.  I could feel her gasp in surprise as I did so and before long I was out again. I lay in bed remembering those details when there was a knock on my door frame.  It was Applejack with soup.  "It's not much, mostly broth but you really should eat a little something," she said as she set up a TV tray by my bed and put the soup on it.  Applejack then sat on the foot of my bed and looked down at the floor before asking, "Why'd you do it?" "What do you mean," I asked. "Why'd you go into the woods and disobey your father and me?" "I had to protect the farm and our livelihood.  What if it got in and got after…” "Won't happen," said Applejack firmly before softening her tone, "Pigs are pigs.  We can raise more of them but... you're my son...not by blood...and I know you don't like me much and...you don't trust me much but..." "Why...dad and Liza don't care about me anymore and that's…” "No," said Applejack slowly, "They do.  They're...Liza is just upset about Old Tom.  She'll get over it in time and your dad... I'll talk with him honestly and openly.  They both stayed by your bedside off and on when you were unconscious.  So there's hope," Applejack patted my leg, "We'll figure this out.  You just need to get better. Okay?"  She smiled at me and it was probably one of the most genuine smiles I'd seen in a long time before she got off of my bed and left me to my soup. The next day sure enough Liza and my dad took turns seeing how I was doing.  Liza mostly colored in her books but when she did talk it was very elaborate and in more detail than I'd have ever expected.  She was still mad about not telling her about Old Tom but, for the first time in a while we'd started to bond again. My father on the other hand was more reserved.  I never understood why he let the killings go on like he did and never could share his rosy outlook on how things were going on the farm.  At one point he said that the killing was over and that things were going to be normal again.  They weren't though, they never could and the danger was just beginning to ramp up. Darling.... I woke up late that night to the sound of that word. I rubbed my eyes and wondered why it remained with me as I woke up covered in sweat.  Whether it was the fever or something else I didn't know but it bothered me. I looked around my room.  I could tell it had been night for quite a while as I saw the moon high in the night sky. The recovery was slow but it was happening.  Even so the aches and pains of illness still wreaked havoc on me. I groaned from the dull pain from shifting around in my bed. I just could not find any comfort, tossing and turning every few seconds. I roasted when I was under the blanket. Froze when I stripped them off and all my mind was focused on was one thing: a tall glass of water for my parched throat. The glass on the nightstand next to me only had a few small sips that did nothing to help my thirst except to make it worse. Finally growling in frustration I threw the covers off of myself and hobbled my way out of my room to the bathroom, which was locked tight, then to the kitchen. After I drank two glasses of water I filled it up for a third time and proceeded back up to my room. As I neared the bathroom I noticed that the door was now cracked open and could feel the warmth from within seeping out into the hall. In my feverish haze I knew someone was taking a shower.  I shook my head and began to walk away from the door when it creaked open a bit more revealing my stepmother. At that moment I realized just why my dad had married her.  She was beautiful, strong and curved in ways I'd only seen in movies.  It made me forget my illness for the moment.  I could do nothing but watch her bathe and I cursed myself for peaking yet I couldn't look away. My heart skipped a beat when Applejack turned toward me for a moment. Head down as she was busy rinsing the shampoo out of her hair. I felt a surge of arousal course through me as I watched my stepmother. "It's wrong," I muttered quietly to myself as she turned away. She paused and tilted her head as if she heard me. I clasped a hand over my mouth and remembered something Liza had said a few months back: "She watches us all the time. All the time. And she listens to." Slowly, I backed away from the door.  I was caught.  It was so obvious and I knew I couldn't explain myself.  The steam slowly began to drift out of the bathroom in a thick cloud as the sound of running water grew louder. "A gentleman never watches a lady bathe," a voice suddenly whispered into my ear. I dropped my glass of water onto the floor and turned to look, but saw nothing.  When I turned back around Applejack was in front of me. I could feel the warmth spread through my cheeks in embarrassment. I stuttered out an excuse hoping she would believe me. She smiled and reached out to me, pulling me into a gentle embrace.  She then tilted my face up to hers and pressed her lips against mine. I felt cold dead lips press onto my own. I nearly gagged from the rancid smell that followed her kiss. When she broke the kiss I saw a flash of white that made me blink and disappeared just as quickly.  I licked my lower lip instinctively and tasted copper. I then touched it and saw the blood. "Applejack what did you...," I began to ask only to be silenced again with another kiss.  She broke it again and slowly pulled me deeper into the mist.  I followed her willingly.  "Hey where are we..." "Was that the first time you ever saw a woman naked?" The voice behind the mist teased. Sounding like my stepmother but at the same time nothing like her at all. "Was it the first time you have ever been kissed? Would you like more...darling," She continued. Her words felt like tender kisses on my ear as her hand cut through the steam as it teased its way downwards towards mine while sending little jolts of pleasure across my body. I could feel her hand lightly rub my fingers as the woman grabbed it and started to lead me across the obscured hallway. "There is so much I want to show you," Applejack/Not Applejack said while guiding me onwards. My head started to spin and filled with strange images of me and my stepmother doing things I had never thought of before. I felt drunk, dizzy, and unable to hold any kind of thought other than desire. The quiet whispers from unseen voices kept pushing me on and on. There was a small part of me, a part of me that knew all this was wrong. A part of me that knew all of this was evil. I could hear that part of me yelling, begging me to stop, to run, that nothing good could come from this. But my lust, my maddening arousal didn't want it to stop, didn't care about the dangers. All I wanted was what the visions promised as it led me along. Whose room it was I couldn't tell as everything was still obscured by the steam, overlapping with the noise of running water. I saw my stepmother Applejack/Not Applejack waiting for me on a bed of red silk and white satin, naked except for a few strategically placed sheets. "Let me teach you how to be a man," she said with a sultry smile playing across her face, arching herself back ready to guide me through the dark pleasures of the body. I couldn't stop the rush of feelings pouring through me as I walked closer to her. Applejack/Not Applejack let out a soft groan. Her hungered desires driving her to madness with want. Even though it was the middle of winter I saw beads of black sweat form on her bare skin washing away some of the orange to reveal a bone white color underneath. It didn't frighten me; in fact it drove my lust even further. Like a predator on the hunt she crawled to the front of the bed on all fours. The sheets fell away to reveal the beautiful woman before me. I saw flecks of purple peeking out from her blond hair. Her mouth twisted in a smile almost too wide for such a face revealing incredibly sharp teeth as she spoke again. "Forever and ever we will always be together, " she teased letting her cold fingers reach out to caress my cheek. A groan escaped my lips. My body was entirely focused on what was being offered. I couldn't stop...I didn't want to stop.  "It won't be so bad. It won't be so bad. It won't be so bad," My mind kept repeating over and over again. I watched as her mouth stretched impossibly wide I saw nothing but my death beyond her rows of teeth and I didn't care. "MINE," screamed a voice cutting through the dream destroying the fantasy in front of me as I felt cold hard claws grab me and pull me away into the darkness away from the woman. I felt sick, the flu symptoms rushing back while fighting the bile rushing upwards from the constant spinning. I think I blacked out at some point as everything disappeared as I heard the snap of a television being turned off. My reflection was the first thing I saw when the room finally stopped spinning. A distorted reflection of myself stared back at me from the old television I kept in my room that was once my grandfather's before he died. She was still there. I could feel her. She was behind the glass watching and waiting. I could still taste her kiss on my lips. The sweet rotting taste of death and emptiness mixing with the coppery taste of my blood made me shudder.  Yet, I found myself wanting more. My body started to shake as a wave of fear enveloped me as a sensation of my almost certain death overwhelmed my senses. "What are you doing standing there in front of the television?" said a voice behind me. I blinked and noticed for the first time the reflection of another person. Applejack stood by the door with a bath towel wrapped around her. Confusion, anger and concern reflected in her eyes as she glared at me and the TV, "You've been standing there muttering for a while now. Are you okay?" My legs buckled, barely able to hold me. I remember opening my mouth to tell her but the only sound was a low moan. The world began to spin and before long faded to black. The next thing I knew I was laying in my bed staring at the ceiling. My flu was back in full force as I felt waves of nausea and heat radiate outward from my body and at the same time I couldn't stop shivering and buried myself deeper into my blanket. "What? Where," I asked nobody in particular. "You okay," asked Applejack as she entered my room. She put her hand on my forehead. The shocking coldness of her touch felt pleasant against the heat. I don't know how long I have been out but considering she was in her bathrobe I assumed it wasn't that long. I glance back and forth before finally saying, "I went downstairs to get a glass of water and then things got weird." "What do you mean weird," she asked slowly but seriously.  Her eyes glanced over to the TV briefly before she looked back at me. I felt the blush rising in my cheeks but only managed to croak out, "I dunno just...weird." "You shouldn't have gone a walking around like that. Gave me a fright when you passed out," she murmured, "Next time just ask one of us to get you what you need." "I'm sorry," I croaked as I found my throat suddenly too sore to speak. "It's just nobody was around and the bathroom was locked so I...." My voice trailed off as I started to remember what happened and could feel the urges returning in spite of my sickness. Quietly I cursed my imagination and its weird desires. Applejack sighed and ruffled my hair with a smile. "Anyway it's late and I'm going to head off to bed so I can get up early and make breakfast for your sister and dad. You know how your father gets when breakfast is late. He's like a bear that one," she chuckled as she got up and started to walk towards the door. "Oh and Joseph," she said, stopping for a moment before leaving, "I know things have been tough for you but, no matter what happens...if something's bothering you...I'm always here." Applejack softly smiled as she turned off the light and closed the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts in the dark of the night. I was far too weak to fight staying awake as I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. "I'm here whenever you need me," whispered a voice from the television as I drifted off.