1234 Souls Lane (Rewritten)

Chapter Four- Raw Carnal Desire

Chapter Four- Raw Carnal Desire

Jenny woke up with her heart hammering and her body smothered with cold sweat. She never had nightmares that real before. It felt as if she were really there in its fleshy grasp, staring evil in the face. It took her an entire hour to compose and convince herself that the cause of the dream was due to paranoia from all the pictures in the house and the horrible statue out front. Let's not forget the ominous legend also.

Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe her mind needs a bit to acclimatize to the new house and all its... "creaks and groans." Maybe, just maybe, she should consider the possibility that she is right and there is something off about the place. It isn't like she has anywhere she can go at the moment. This is it. She sighed feeling foolish as her mind ran away with her. She needed to woman up and grow a pair. Isn't that what the guys say?

Jenny felt her skin crawling and itching with the need to rinse away remnants of her nightmare. She took a hot shower, scrubbing until her skin pinked and her fingers wrinkled. After she dressed and gathered her dirty laundry, she stood hesitantly at the top of the stairs of the basement... where the washer and dryer were located. She swallowed and shifted from foot to foot, the basket switched hands at least three times before she mustered the courage to take one single step down.

It was like having a grand piano dropped on her chest. The breath few harshly from her lungs, she shivered and bit her lip.

You're a grown woman! You can do this! It's just some crazy story, it isn't real. Man up, Jenny!

Jenny stepped down to the second step and as she did the sound of something slimy echoed from the darkness below. Nope! Jenny turned tail and ran as fast as she could back to her room, locked the door and chewed on her thumb nail. She paced side to side trying to figure out what the sound could have been and so far she came up empty handed. There was nothing in the basement but the washer and dryer and that... creepy painting. Nothing to cause that kind of noise. Then she tried reasoning with herself.

Well, maybe it was a rat that some how climbed in through a pipe and found its way to the basement... or perhaps it was a water leak? Yes, it was probably one of those. That seems plausible.

She looked around for her laundry basket just to remember that she had dropped it when she got spooked. Oh, God. It's most likely at the bottom of the staircase... in the pitch black darkness. Why couldn't I have made a friend that could have been a room mate that way he/she could do these types of things for me when I chicken out!

Once again, she made her way back to the dark stained door and pulled it open to feel a blast of cold air whip through her hair. Why does it have to stay so cold down here. Jenny had enough of legging fear control her. She ground her teeth together and took each step precisely, listening intently for any noise to come from the darkness that awaits in the basement.

With each step she took, she felt as if it were her last. It was almost like walking to the gallows, she imagined. Wondering what could happen — what would happen? She hated the basement with a fiery passion. Something was severely wrong with it. It was like having a sixth sense, she didn't believe in ghosts, but she just knew that something was there.

Her entire body shivered violently, her breath caught in her throat and a tightness began to form in her chest as she descended further into what she calls The Gate To Hell. Once she reached the bottom of the staircase, her eyes immediately drew toward the oil painting. There was no one there to stop her from touching it now. She couldn't help but think back on the legend again. How desperate someone would have to be to call on a Demon just to have the skill to paint. She inched towards it once again — forgetting all about the laundry scattered around her feet — and found herself directly in front of the painting. It was neither here nor there that she had suddenly found herself in front of the painting, all she wanted to do was touch it.

Their hollow eyes seemed to beckon her to help them, plead her to save them and end their agony. Their mouths twisted into ghoulish shape moans, their skin grew more translucent, and the sounds... It began as whisperings, too many to form any coherent sentences. Then they turned to screams as if they were being burned alive, gut wrenching, heart breaking screams. Their hands seemed to desperately reach out for her, and yet, she couldn't turn away. It haunted her to look at it, but she just couldn't help it. It was so vivid. So life like. Her hand rose in front of her, her fingertips so close she could feel the despair on her fingertips...

Just need to touch...

A loud knocking startled her so much she didn't realize she was running up the staircase and to the front door before wrenching it open.

She didn't pay any heed to her hair being in a sloppy bun, or that she was in a pair of pink shorts and a tank top. She wasn't prepared for company, she was still in shock from just moments earlier. She opened the door to find Damon on the other end.

"Hello, Jenny, I just stopped by to see how you were settling into the house? Everything ok?" He asked, sounding a little too interested.

Jenny was slick with sweat, her pulse was thundering in her head and she was panting from running up the stairs but she managed a hoarse reply, "Everything is good and I'm settled in just fine. The house is okay." she smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. She wasn't fooling anyone.

Damon raised a black imperious brow, his lips twitching at the corners, "That's good to hear. Do you mind if I come in and talk to you about a few things that I forgot to go over with you? It shouldn't take long."

It was then that she took notice to his crisp, black Armani suit. He donned a fedora to boot. It had been far too long since she'd been with a man... No! You don't want to get mixed up with this tricky bastard. You don't need to feel his fingertips circle the rim of your belly button... or feel his lips working their way up your inner thigh so very close...

Jenny flushed and swallowed thickly trying to drown out her sensual desire but her tone said otherwise, "Yes... I'm not busy." Jenny shifted so her hip jutted out showing off her delicate curves before continuing, "I've got a few hours to spare I think."

Couldn't have came on a little stronger, could you?

Her own condescending voice echoed in her head and she felt the need to face palm for coming on as strongly as she had, but there was no going back now. The dark glint in his eyes twinkled mischievously and his grin spoke volumes to what he was thinking as he slid his gaze to her pouty lips.

"I've never been one to decline a beautiful woman's offer before, so I gladly accept."