Frost Harrow Book 1 – SCREAM LOVER – Ch.6

Welcome to FROST HARROW, my new modern (1990s) gothic horror series!  If you’d like to support this and my other work, go to www.CushingHorrors.com and become my patron!  You may also enjoy the Scribe Award-Winning MANOS: THE HANDS OF FATE – In print, for kindle, and for all e-book formats. And check out my retro-horror-comedy classic CANOE COPS VS. THE MUMMY as well as my other books.  Now… On with the show!

SIX – PARKING

Sheila Kass had been on Eddie King’s mind for the better part of a week. Her honey-blond hair dangling over her shoulders. Her thin waist, the midriff exposed by her provocative clothing. Her small, perky tits hiding tantalizingly behind her angora sweater. Her perfect round ass filling out her jeans skirts so nicely. He just couldn’t get her out of his skull. He’d hardly slept all week for thinking about her.

Not that he’d gotten to taste any of her bounty yet. But she liked him. At least, he thought she did. She’d been out with him three times in the last five days, so she must have.

Sure, the trips to the pizza parlor and the movies hadn’t been so special, but tonight was different. Tonight she’d agreed to drive out to Wind Point with him—Frosthaven’s notorious lovers’ lane.

It was midweek. Wind Point was nearly always deserted during school nights. Sheila and Eddie were alone with miles of empty beach, thick towering pine trees, the moon and the stars. The nearest person lived on the other side of the peninsula in that artist’s beach house on the Frost Estate. But everyone knew the Frosts kept to themselves. And Eddie knew that he and Sheila would have all the privacy they’d need.

He’d made sure they would be ready for the occasion, filling the trunk with two gallons of Wild Irish Rose and a half-baggie of fine weed.

Eddie knew the area like the palm of his hand. He selected a parking spot well-hidden from the eyes of the occasional patrol cars that passed through the area. The two of them walked on the beach until a chilly wind drove them back to the car. The sheltering pines hid the stars from their view.

Eddie stuck Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon into the Dodge’s tape player, put the machine on repeat, and broke out the entertainment.

After the third drink and the second joint, Eddie wondered if he had a future on the comedy circuit because Sheila laughed at everything he said. He kissed her and then kissed her again. The second time she kissed back.

They had another drink. Eddie’s head began to swim. Sheila looked better than he ever remembered her looking before.

“I gotta pee,” she said, groping for the door handle.

“Wan’ me to help?” Eddie slurred as she disappeared into the bushes. She didn’t answer. He decided he needed to piss as well.

Fog crept in from the lake, wrapping the pines in damp, mysterious silence. Eddie nearly walked into a convenient tree and leaned against it for a moment mumbling the words to Pink Floyd’s “Brain Damage.” He decided the tree was as good a place as any and unzipped.

As he whizzed, the shadows closed in around him.

You’re doing well, the shadows whispered. She must really like you.

“I know she does,” Eddie said aloud. He finished his business and closed his fly, taking care not to pinch himself.

She wants you. You can tell by the way she looks at you.

“Yep,” Eddie hiccupped. “Damn straight.”

So why don’t you do something about it?

“Damned if I won’t,” Eddie said, staggering back toward the car.

He found Sheila in the passenger seat with her head slumped against the steering wheel. “Oh, hi, Eddie,” she slurred as he opened the driver’s side door.

“I think we’d be more comfortable in back,” he said.

That’s the way, champ. You’re the king of the make-out artists.

Eddie chuckled to himself. “Heh heh. King. I’m the king.”

“Wha’d you say, Eddie?” Sheila asked, trying to pull her foot from where it’d caught on the top of the bucket seat as she climbed into the back.

You can almost see paradise from here, pal.

Eddie nodded to the voice, helped Sheila with her foot, and hopped into the back seat with her. His sneaker caught as well, and he landed on top of her, his face just under her breasts.

“Shit, Eddie, not so fast!” she said, pushing him away.

She needs another drink.

“Want another drink, babe?” Eddie asked, pulling the wine from the front seat. “Here, take the whole jug.”

Sheila smiled at him, took the jug, and downed a big swig. “That’s what I like about you, Eddie,” she said. “You’re so generous.” She wiped the excess from her lips with the back of her arm.

Her lips looked good.

Eddie put his arms around her and kissed those lovely lips.

“Got any more smoke?” she asked around his smooch.

To his embarrassment, Eddie discovered the baggie had disappeared from his pants pocket. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Musta dropped it when I took a piss. You have ’nother drink while I find it. I’ll be right back.”

He groped his way into the front of the car and opened the door. As he shut the door he saw the bottle pressed to her lips once more. Her sweet lips.

In the dark and the fog, without a flashlight, it took Eddie the better part of ten minutes to locate the bag.

When he returned to the car, Sheila lay slumped in the back seat, the jug by her side, her legs akimbo. She snored gently as he climbed into the car.

“Shit!” said Eddie, his hopes of paradise vanishing. A musky odor assaulted his nostrils. It didn’t smell like grass. Eddie wondered a moment if he’d gotten a bad batch. Maybe that’s why his ears buzzed so.

What’s the problem, sport? There she is, ready and waiting for you.

Eddie hit the side of his head with his hand, but the buzzing persisted.

You know she wants it. She practically said so.

“‘Not so fast,’ she said,” Eddie told the thin air.

But you’ll take it nice and slow. Just the way she wants it. Just the way she likes it.

Eddie would almost have sworn he felt a hand pushing him into the back seat. He barely remembered unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants. His entire world felt fuzzy; his head was filled with a grey haze.

He pushed Sheila’s legs further apart and pulled down her white cotton panties.

He never noticed the disembodied red eyes watching over his shoulder.

TO BE CONTINUED…

 Read my FREE Frost Harrow Halloween stories:
The Weeping Ghost” (2012), “A Trace of Violet” (2013),  “Lunchroom Zombies” (2014), “Omens & Visitations” (2015), “Fata Morgana” (2016), “At the Appointed Hour” (2017), and “Devil’s Lake” (2018).

About Steve Sullivan 378 Articles
Stephen D. Sullivan is an award-winning author, artist, and editor. Since 1980, he has worked on a wide variety of properties, including well-known licenses and original work. Some of his best know projects include Dungeons & Dragons, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Dragonlance, Iron Man, Legend of the Five Rings, Speed Racer, the Tolkien RPG, Disney Afternoons, Star Wars, The Twilight Empire (Robinson's War), Uncanny Radio, Martian Knights, Tournament of Death, and The Blue Kingdoms (with his friend Jean Rabe).

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