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Perceptions And DeceptionsChapter 55 free porn video
The effort is minimal this time. Cassie sees the door before her, opens it, and she is there.
And now she can see more "there" than last time. The little room that Gina created now has a window overlooking a scene of idyllic winter beauty. The pure white snow gleams, as if possessing an inner glow of its own. The road is majestic, wide and pristine, stretching forth into a distant horizon of radiance.
Yet it is a window only. No door exists to this wondrous wintry world. And now the door to the interior of the house -- or rather, to the part of Gina's mind still usurped by Victor -- now sports a large padlock.
"I had to keep him out," Gina says. Her voice is less anxious, her eyes less wild. She does not wring her hands. "I may have pushed it too far earlier, but I think I'm okay now."
Cassie looks out the window again. She wonders if Gina understands the symbolism of all this white. Is she trying to recapture a lost purity or innocence? Or possibly manufacture one that she never had?
"I can see it," Gina says, urgency creeping into her voice as if in demand of acknowledgement. "I can't reach it yet, but it's there."
Cassie draws closer to the window and squints into the distance. "This is strange. I can't see anything in all the white, but I feel like something should be there."
Gina comes alongside her. Cassie can sense Gina is trembling even across the space between them. "I know," Gina says in a very low voice. "Maybe ... maybe it's Stephanie."
Cassie turns away from the window and is struck by the intensity of Gina's eyes. "I don't think so, Gina."
"But she helped me before. She ... she fought it. She..."
Her words trail off, eyes shimmering. Cassie realizes she is radiating her doubt like a beacon, but there is some truth to Gina's words. "Yes, she did, in ... in a way."
Cassie tries not to think about Stephanie's horrible fate, but her thoughts seem linked to Gina's emotions. Gina shrinks back and shivers as if cold.
"Gina, Stephanie did stop him from taking her as a slave, but ... but she couldn't--"
Gina shakes her head. Fear shimmers in her eyes again.
Cassie squeezes Gina's hand and looks into her glistening eyes. "She didn't have anyone helping her. You do."
Gina takes a breath, and it catches as she lets it go. "It's not enough. Victor almost caught me. I almost lost all of this. I had to shut him out."
Cassie squeezes her hand again. "Gina, listen to me--"
"Less than a day! I have less than a day before--!"
"Gina, stop it. You don't understand what resources I can call on. It's just that we have to wait until Halloween night."
"But only a day! I still don't know what or who I am, or what I should be if I'm free of Victor."
"My friends and I may be able to help you with that," says Cassie, but she holds little confidence in her own words. She realizes now that to someone that has been held in restraints all her life, freedom could be every bit as paralyzing as imprisonment.
"I need Stephanie," Gina says.
Cassie tilts her head. "I don't understand."
"I'm connected to her somehow. It's ... it's almost like maybe she was someone that I could have been."
Cassie is unwilling to reveal her initial thoughts. The Stephanie she had met in school had struck her as a bit shallow, but she wonders if that was only after Victor's influence took hold. "I think it is more that you admire her spirit," Cassie finally says.
"You still don't understand!" Gina cries. "I'm still an empty shell. Victor is giving me purpose."
"Being a slave is not--"
"Let me finish! I don't want his purpose. But what do I have to pit against it? I'm fighting myself as much as Victor. How can I offer nothing in exchange for something?"
Cassie nods slowly, and she is at a loss for a response. She sees the problem: with no personal will or ambition, freedom would be more terrifying than slavery.
"That's what's out there," Gina says, turning towards the window. "The road leads to the old cemetery at the other end where I first met her. I was only a few fleeting thoughts and doubts until I met her, then I became this."
"I understand what you're saying, Gina, but what I don't know is what you expect from her."
Gina is silent for a long moment, then asks the question that Cassie has been dreading. "What happened to her? I stopped seeing her just before you showed up."
"She ... she fought him but ... but she's a prisoner in her own mind."
Gina spins around, eyes wide and staring.
"He was never able to take her as a slave, but he managed to keep her quiet. Stephanie sits in ... i-in a horrible little cage with Victor still--"
"She's just like me!"
Cassie falls silent.
"Don't you get it? We're both trapped. We're both prisoners inside ourselves. But she has a life. She has something to go back to if she ever gets free. I don't. If ... if I could link to her somehow ... if I could get Gina's mind to see what her life could be like--"
Cassie nods. "Yes, I understand! But ... oh, Gina, you don't know what you're asking! She's literally locked inside her head. I'm not sure anyone could break her out now."
Gina grasps Cassie's hands and squeezes until the fingers tingle. "Please, I need her. I-I'm begging you, please."
Cassie's eyes blur, and she blinks away the tears that threaten to form. "I'll try. I'll really try."
Gina smiles. Tears flood Cassie's eyes and stream down her cheeks. She hugs Gina before retreating through the door.
Cassie once more stands in the pastel kaleidescope that is the Dreamverse. She hears the soft, enticing whispers of people's thoughts and memories that she has attracted to herself by her mere presence. She longs for the days when she was only a passive receiver of their tiny slices of life and could ponder them as no more than an exercise of creative thought.
She is not sure where to begin. Would it be that simple? Could she just will the door to Stephanie's psyche into existence?
Cassie gasps and stumbles back as a door materializes out of the ether.
She stares in rapt amazement, then increasing trepidation. The door is of iron, thick rivets marching along its frame and slashes of rust stretching like wounds across its dully gleaming surface. She touches the door and shivers at the chill. She steels herself and pushes the door open, and is astonished to see Stephanie's cage.
From the inside.
Stephanie is curled up on the floor, shivering and moaning. The realm past the bars is utterly black, darker than Cassie ever remembered it, as if the cage is suspended in a void, infinitely far from everything.
Cassie steps through, and her skin becomes clammy and cold. Stephanie lifts her head, then cries out. She scrambles to the edge of the cage, her eyes cold with fear.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Cassie says in a quavering voice.
"You shouldn't have come here again!" Stephanie cries. Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. "My God ... how did you ... h-how did you open it inside--?"
Cassie lays a hand over her racing heart. "You mean you don't know how I can do this?"
Stephanie rises and shakes her head, eyes wide.
"Stephanie, does this mean I can free you? I can do this with Gina, too, and I can feed her power through it. If I could do the same with you..."
Stephanie shakes her head violently. "No, please don't, don't try it. Oh God, Cassie, don't mess this up! Don't make some stupid rescue attempt on me! I can't get out of this cage no matter what anyone tries."
"Gina says she needs you."
Stephanie does not respond. She turns away and stares out into the black.
Cassie's eyes mist. "She says she needs to connect with you. Stephanie, she's been BRED to be a slave. She virtually has no life she can call her own."
Stephanie collapses against the bars of the cage. Cassie rushes forward but cannot stop Stephanie from sinking to the floor. "Oh God, I had h-hoped I was w-wrong," Stephanie whimpers.
"What?"
Stephanie closes her eyes and grips the bars until her knuckles turn white. "Stuff I heard from Charles ... s-sometimes from Victor ... I-I guess I knew all along. Somehow I knew. But this is just beyond ... I c-can't..."
Cassie's eyes dart with frantic urgency, searching for anything that could help, not just in her own mind but in her surroundings as well. She looks into the void again and shudders. If Stephanie could open her cage, would she plunge into an unending abyss? Has she been so separated from the rest of her mind that there was no hope of reuniting with it?
Finally, her eyes fall on the door. "Stephanie, could you come through the door with me?"
Stephanie looks up. Her eyes dart from the door back to Cassie and shivers. She swallows and shakes her head.
"Are you sure? Maybe that's why I can open doors past Victor's control!"
"Cassie, you're not thinking!" Stephanie wails. "I-I'm still everything that I was. Everything out there is just a shell. If I leave, it's like ripping the soul from someone's body!"
A wave of nausea sickens Cassie as she recalls the Rite of Power and how horribly empty Heather and Diane appeared when Melissa stole their spirits from their bodies. She feels ashamed for even considering the idea.
Stephanie touches Cassie's arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you so upset."
Cassie waits for her tears to stop. She sniffles once and wipes her face. "It's okay. Y-You're right, I wasn't thinking. But surely there's something we can do? Gina needs something to hold on to or it will be impossible to free her and keep her free."
Stephanie looks lost, and it tears at Cassie's heart. Stephanie raises her eyes to the door again. "Cassie, I'm still trying to understand. You're using this power as easily as breathing. I don't think I could've ever developed it like this even if Victor had never bothered with me."
Cassie cannot help feel a small degree of pride. "So you can't open doors like this?"
"No, not at all, not even before I gave most of my power to you. Look how hard it was to get through to you just in your dreams every year."
Cassie sighs and nods. "If I gave you some energy--"
"And do what? I can't leave here."
"But if you could connect to Gina somehow, and just reassure her."
"I don't know if I can, Cassie!" Stephanie cries.
"Please try," Cassie begs, her eyes tearing again. She hates herself. Stephanie has been through too much. She does not deserve to have more demands placed upon her. "Please. My friends and I will be performing ... um ... will be doing something to tap into the power of the lines. I can give you some of that energy. Then you can try to contact Gina."
Stephanie sighs and whimpers. "I-I'll try," she says in a very tiny voice.
Cassie sniffles again and wipes her eyes. "Thank you." She retreats to the door. "Stephanie, you say you can't come through the door. How did you send your Presence through the lines?"
"I can open a portal into the line energy," Stephanie explains. "You probably can, too. You just have to remember to leave it open behind you when you project yourself. You can't close it behind you, ever, or you lose that piece of yourself forever."
Cassie nods. "You were the one that saved me last night, weren't you?"
"Yes. I sensed you were too close to Melinda's psyche. You would've been enslaved by the cult if you entered."
Cassie shudders.
"Be more careful, Cassie, please. You can't get into the head of someone that's been enslaved unless you already know of someplace safe to link to."
Cassie feels foolish for failing to figure that out herself, as now it is obvious. "I will. I wish there was more I could do for you."
"Just stop Victor, that's all I care about anymore."
Cassie forces herself to leave, closing the door behind her.
Milky sunlight streaked the table near the edge of Charles' plate. He speared a piece of sausage and looked up at the frosted window, a slow sigh passing through his nose. One more day and for another year his exposure to the cult would be limited to his immediate staff.
He was about to pop the piece of sausage in his mouth when one of his maids appeared at the far end of the room, her heels clicking against the floor. He set down his fork and steeled himself. "Well? Now what?"
The maid stopped and curtsied. "Lydia is doing fine, um, sir," said the maid. He had instructed the staff to stop calling him "Prophet" a day earlier than normal. "I am told she slept the night without incident save for a bit of restlessness towards dawn."
Charles nodded. "Thank you."
"The Glorious One suggested keeping her engaged today."
Charles suppressed a frown at the euphemism for using her as a sex toy. The fact that as recently as a few days ago he would have been happy to oblige such a request was not lost on him.
Victor's covert "suggestions" to his staff was something else he would not miss. "Very well," said Charles in a tight voice.
The maid curtsied again and left. He raised the fork once more, but movement behind him made him pause.
"Prophet, a word with you, please."
Charles ate the bit of sausage and let the fork clatter to the plate. He tossed his napkin atop the remainder of his meal and rose, gesturing to the butler, who rushed to remove the plate. He turned and saw Kelly and Lynn standing in the doorway just on the other side of the threshold.
"What is it?" Charles said in irritation. "Yet another directive from Victor that I am not privy to?"
Kelly and Lynn exchanged a concerned look at their Prophet's inappropriate form of address for their divine leader, but Kelly recovered and said, "Yes, Prophet, the Glorious One has communed with me.
You mean he had his damned avatar tweak your mind, Charles thought. "Yes, yes, go ahead."
"He wishes to dispatch us to Haven High School immediately, before classes begin today, along with a few more of our brethren."
"I beg your pardon?"
"The evil that possessed our slave resides in that school. He wishes help in keeping it under control so it will not jeopardize the ceremony tonight."
"This ... this is simply too much!" Charles declared. "I cannot believe Victor would be so stu--"
Lynn gasped, eyes wide. Kelly gave Charles an obvious but calm look of disapproval.
Charles wiped his face with his hand, his heart thumping. He looked at Kelly's eyes and saw little more than a dedicated fundamentalist. He was sure she would be "communing" his near "blasphemy" to Victor at the earliest opportunity. "What I meant to say is that I do not believe the Glorious One is considering all the implications of such an action."
"Perhaps you may have the privilege to question him on the matter, Prophet, but we have no such luxury," said Kelly, her eyes fixed and cool. "We can only follow or not follow his directives. If we do not, he will demand to know why."
"I know that! I will not stop you. Go do as he bids you. If I have anything further to say on the matter, I will say it to the Glorious One. Go."
Kelly and Lynn bowed their heads and left.
Charles clenched his jaw. He exited down another hallway and entered his private office, closing the door behind him. He fished a key from his pocket and fell into the chair behind the desk. Moving with a quiet urgency, he unlocked the bottom drawer and opened it.
He peered inside. A large satchel holding personal papers filled most of the space. Towards the back lay a 357 magnum, his last-resort option in case of criminal intrusion. Squeezed between the satchel and the side of the drawer was an old-fashioned glass and a crystal flask filled with deep amber-brown liquor.
Charles took out his cell phone and speed-dialed as he unloaded the glass and the flask to the top of the desk.
"Marge, this is Charles." He pulled the stopper from the crystal flask and poured a finger's worth of scotch into his glass. "I want you to arrange for a flight for me. Out of the country."
He brought the glass to his lips and downed the contents in one go. He coughed once.
"Anywhere. Pick someplace where I have some holdings. Make sure it leaves very early tomorrow morning."
He banged the glass to the top of the desk.
"I don't care about the short notice, just find me a damn flight!" He snapped the cell phone closed and splashed more liquor into his glass. He took it in hand and stood, peering into the liquid as he swirled it around.
He hoped he didn't need it, that all his worries were unfounded. But if Victor finally did make another mistake, one bigger than twenty-one years ago, Charles wanted to be nowhere near Haven during the fallout.
Jason sat on the edge of his bed staring at the Book as it lay on the floor between his feet. He told himself that his hesitation was his indecision over whether to leave the Book or take it with him, and not the vain hope that his parents would stop fighting downstairs before he had to pass by them.
He looked at the clock. He could not wait more than a few more minutes if he did not want to miss the school bus. By now his mother should have shouted for him to come downstairs.
Jason finally kicked the Book under the bed with the back of his heel. The fight had not diminished; his mother was still at full volume. He did not dare ask her for permission to stay out most of the day after school.
He had the notion that perhaps Victor had manipulated his parents into combativeness just to thwart him. That was easier to accept than a failing marriage. Suddenly the argument did break off, followed by his mother's stomping footsteps, and then a yell: "Jason, get down here!"
Jason was on his feet before the last syllable hit his ears. He scooped up his book-bag, fumbled with his shirt to ensure the pendant was still hidden, and burst out of his room.
His mother was livid. Just past the foot of the stairs, his father stood with his arms folded, tense but impassive. Jason remained as calm and as respectful as he could manage. "Yes, Mom?"
His mother did not reply at first. Her hard gaze snapped back to Henry for a moment, and Jason was sure she was about to scream or cry. Instead, she let out a frustrated sigh and glared at Jason. "Your father seems to believe that you would want to spend the entire day with your friends after school because it's Halloween."
Jason had steeled himself for anything, but this was beyond his most extreme notions. He looked at his father in a moment of confusion and surprise.
His mother whirled back around to face her husband before Jason could recover. "Now you see? He thinks the idea is just as insane as I did! Halloween is the last holiday that Jason would ever--"
"How about letting Jason speak for himself, Audrey," Henry snapped. "Instead of putting words in his mouth."
Audrey clenched her teeth, but turned back to her son, her eyes full of accusation. "Well, Jason? Do you insist on staying out all day even though it seems like I haven't seen you in--"
"Audrey!"
"Just shut up, Henry! I've had enough of--!"
"Yes, Mom," Jason heard himself say.
His mother stared at Jason as if he had grown a third eye.
Jason swallowed and fought to keep his voice steady. "I actually would like to stay out with my friends, if that's okay."
"It is most certainly not okay!" Audrey said. "But your father is insistent on it."
That was the second time his mother had used the words as an epithet.
"All I am saying is that he needs a little more freedom," said Henry. "Stop blowing it up into more than it is."
"But this is not like him! Jason, when did you ever have any interest in Halloween?"
"Before I had this many friends to spend it with."
Audrey's mouth opened, then snapped shut without a sound.
Jason felt more at ease. He had not lied. Only Richie and (very peripherally) Melinda had been his friends the year before.
His mother averted her eyes and fidgeted.
"You know, having more friends can be a good thing," Henry said, sarcasm edging his voice.
Audrey's eyes blazed at him. "Stop implying that I ever said I didn't want Jason to have more friends. I will not have you twisting my words again."
"All right, fine, but you seemed to have trouble believing that Jason could--"
"And stop making me look bad in front of him, damn you!"
Jason's throat went dry. Each time he thought he could not see his mother more upset, she surprised him in the worst way.
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