The Dark Inside (A Human Element) Read Free Page B

prickled along his arms. His mother? He climbed the steps upstairs two at a time, silent in his footfalls.
    Thwack.
    More moans. Something stirred in Caleb's groin.
    He eased open his parent's bedroom door. Aunt Manta was on her knees, naked. And his father was plunging his giant staff between her legs, slapping her buttocks with a leather whip.
    Thwack.
    Caleb couldn't move. He felt himself grow hard, despite his horror, as his aunt's breasts swayed from the force of his father slapping up against her. With each lash of the whip, she shrieked and then moaned, pushing deeper back into his father. She was enjoying it.
    His father strained with his release, as he clutched his aunt's hips pumping into her.
    "Father!" Caleb's voice finally found him.
    Aunt Manta and his father turned to look at him, their faces open-mouthed with ecstasy and shock.
    "Caleb!" His father withdrew and stood up.
    But Caleb turned and ran back down the stairs. He ripped open the door and raced to the woods. Roses. That's why the house smelled like roses. Uncle Brahm made Aunt Manta perfume from his rose garden. Each night he was with his uncle his father had been plundering his brother's wife.
    Caleb stopped to clutch his stomach and retched. The woods were silent except for his sickening sounds. When was his mother coming home? He needed her but what would he tell her? And Uncle Brahm? Jealous of Brahm's good fortune, his father had ruined everything. He stumbled on through a cold rain, heading for his hideaway.
    He reached the well. A giant hole breached the brush he had last used to cover it. He shoved the branches aside and climbed down into his sanctuary, wary that some animal might be poised to greet him. Halfway down he paused, but sensed no movement. Heard no sound. The comforting dark reached up for him, and he longed to enter its embrace.
    His foot reached the floor but didn't touch hard stone. He landed on something soft. He lost his balance and fell back, cracking his head on the side of the well.
    He lay crumpled at the bottom, waiting for the pain to recede. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, a face stared back at him. Not the bright eyes of an animal. Not the hazy, unbidden memory of a chained boy. Eyes he recognized, yet so different now drained of life. His mother's.
    Caleb screamed and slammed back into the wall. Her head lolled to one side and her leg, stuck out at a crooked angle, lay on her travel bag. She leaned up against the wall as if someone had propped her there.
    Why had she insisted on leaving alone? He should have walked with her. He knew these woods better than she did. She must have wandered off the path in the dark and fallen into the brush. He never should have covered the opening so carelessly. He should have told someone about the danger and had it sealed.
    This was his fault. His own, dear mother's loss–all his fault.
    Or was it?
    Crying, he touched her shoulder. Like frozen wood. "Mother?" It echoed up the dank walls.
    She didn't answer. He placed his hands on her stiff body and closed his eyes, willing her back to life with his healing power. Please come back. You're all I have now. Please! Sweat painted the skin above his lips, formed on his brow; still he harnessed his power to bring her back. His love for her rushed through his veins driven by memories, but her memories were long gone and he could not unblock them. She remained silent and still. She had been dead far too long to work his power. Shaking, he undid her bun and gently placed her raven hair around her shoulders. Now she was beautiful again, even in death.
    He smashed his fist against the damp rock. It bit into his hands. He didn't know how to deal with this–he was only a teenager, he shouldn't have to. With weak hands and a heavy heart, he started to climb. Father!
    Had the word flown from his mouth? It couldn't have, the sound had no echo. He looked back down and instead of his mother; he once again saw the vision. The boy in the well–he was