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Presence
Presence
Presence
Ebook287 pages5 hours

Presence

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Lucy, a gifted journalist for a small-town paper, is drawn to a mysterious house. She doesn’t know why, or how, but it’s consuming her. Her dreams, waking moments, terrifying her to her core, but she can’t stop until she finds out what is terrorising her and puts a stop to it.

Sebastien, a colleague of Lucy’s. He is infatuated with her, but also after a killer story and becomes embroiled in the mystery and horror of what’s going on with this strange house.

Set after the turn of the millennium, the two of them must uncover the truth and put a stop to the dark presence that’s maiming and murdering people in their lives.

Will they uncover the disturbing secrets of the house and survive?
LanguageEnglish
PublisherLulu.com
Release dateOct 29, 2022
ISBN9781471729522
Presence

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    Book preview

    Presence - Christian Boldrini

    CHAPTER 1

    As he caresses her sumptuous breasts, he gasps. Unable to take in the full splendour of her bosom. It overwhelms him, draws him in. He can’t help but try though. Reaching over with the lightest of touches, his fingertips leave her goosepimply in their wake as they move round in swirling circles towards her nipple. It hardens. Begging to be touched and squeezed. He leans over as she lay there, his jaw opening and his tongue rolls out but still maintaining that all important eye contact. It’s what she needs, to be accepted and feel safe while he moves in to drag the tip of his wet tongue over her skin to her aroused nipple. He moves over her, taking a deep breath in as his lips part further and take in her nipple. Soft lips gripping gently at first as he pulls his head back. His short beard scratching her skin, arousing her even more as she notices the way it presses against her.

    Gazing upon him, her own hand reaches up and into his long hair. Gasping with pleasure at the lightest of touches. Without realising it, her lips have parted and she’s in the throes of passion when he tugs her nipple hard suddenly. He pulls it up and her breast reaches out with it. The soft mounds of flesh being pulled to their limit. The man lifts his head up as far as he can until her breast is pulled out so far it hurts and his teeth are gripping her nipple. She winces for a moment before he releases it. The pain lasting a few moments as her breast falls and bounces a little.

    He looks down, then dives in to the other breast, devouring it. His mouth trying to grasp as much of it as possible until it fills his mouth. He tugs. She gasps. His teeth slowly cutting into her flesh, making her wince again. His other hand lands softly on her free breast. His fingers delve in and squeeze as he pulls. Her head leans back into the pillow and another gasp emanates from her lips. Her hands are both in his hair, running through the strands. Holding him there so he continues to pleasure her. As she does, she can feel the hardness of something against her leg. It’s so hot and hard. She can’t tell the size but she knows she wants it inside her. Now. Forever. To be one with him.

    Relinquishing her breast from his hand, it falls with a bounce. Her head leans forward a little as she looks down to see what he’s doing next. His fingers graze up her right thigh, sending chills up her body. She knows what’s coming but isn’t sure she’s prepared for it just yet. Then it happens. The tips of his fingers glide up and down either side of her womanhood. The feeling of just being teased consuming her. Continuing to tease, up one side, down the other. Moving closer. Closer. Two fingers parting her a little as his middle finger slips in and caresses her. Pushing. Turning.

    A deft finger pleasuring her, it slips in a short way to feel her wetness. Moves around a little to spread her a little further than normal and then pulls back. Repeating this gesture over and over for a while until she is literally gushing. He pulls his finger back and up to his face. Letting go of her breast from his mouth he looks in her eyes still as he slips his finger in his mouth, still wet from being inside her. Tasting her sweet nectar, he licks it off in his mouth before reaching down again and plunges his middle finger inside her. Curling it round within her to press so deep. It causes her to cry out as she grips his hair and pulls his head up to kiss her. Exchanging tastes as they kiss hard, passionately. She tastes some of herself on his lips before her tongue enters his mouth and touches his. Pulling away, his lips leave hers momentarily. A trail of saliva hangs between their mouths. Hers still open as she watches and looks into his eyes.

    You’re mine, he utters in a low, deep voice, then dives back in to kiss her harder than before. Catching her off guard when his thumb is suddenly pressed right up against her clitoris just as he curls his finger up inside her. A pincer movement to pleasure her as he grips so hard that it hurts. She cries out in anguish at the influx of pleasure and pain upon her body. One hand gripping the sheets between her fingers and the other still in his hair. She throws her head back and howls at the pain and pleasure, feeling his nail almost cutting into her inside. But she likes it. Almost like bending to his will but still reserving the power to throw him off at any point. He’s pleasuring her, but she’s in charge and letting him. For now.

    Lessening his grip on her, luring her into thinking it’s safe for a moment before he grips once more and this time, he keeps the pressure up. The fingertip pressing into her as he moves it in little circles inside her. Each time a little rotation is done she lets out a loud moan. Still doing it until she aggressively grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him closer to her face. His member pressed right up against her and in that moment, she understands what she’s let herself in for. Her hands run down his toned chest, through his long hair as he slowly enters her. Being opened, she slams her eyes shut and lets the pleasure of their two bodies being joined overtake her. It reaches deep. Deeper than anything ever has before. She lets out a tremendous moan that fills the room. It reaches far inside and presses hard within, when she realises that it’s not quite all inside. Then he shunts the last part in and she screams…

    She wakes up in tremendous sweat, wondering what that awful noise is next to her, then reaches out and slams her hand down onto her alarm clock. Knocking it to the floor from the bedside table. It clunks to the floor.

    Shit! she utters as her eyes flicker open. A sigh escaping her lips, she was dreaming of him once again. Ugh, every time, she continues while reaching down to pick up her clock and clicking it to turn the alarm off. Setting it back down on the bedside table and then covering her whole body suddenly to hide from the world with another Ugh!

    Realising that she must get up to go to work sometime, she throws the covers off and then gets up in a huff. Storms to the bathroom and sees herself in the mirror. Gazing into it for more than a moment before glancing at everything she finds to be a flaw. She’s not an unattractive woman by any means. Standing there with her long black hair down to her breasts, keeps herself fit enough for the yoga that she does each day. She is fairly slim and tall too, certainly taller than average. Then she sighs into the mirror as she reaches out for her toothbrush and proceeds to brush her teeth.

    ***

    Arriving at her work, a little place just on the edge of town. A small newspaper company, of which she is one of three main journalists. Glancing up at the sign above the door as she walks in, Topical News it says. She shakes her head, thinking what a terrible name that is for a newspaper, but it’s a starting point for her career in life and everyone has to start somewhere.

    Mornin’ Lucy, Jeb, the photographer of the office states to her more than greeting. Without even turning around to see her, she can tell that he’ll probably have some cream on his face from his morning doughnut. Leaning on his desk to look through some of his latest photos on his screen as he edits them quickly before his midday deadline. That’s looking great so far Jeb. How do you always know it’s me every morning? she asks with a slight smile, noticing the dab of cream on his left cheek.

    You’re always here about five minutes late Luce, it’s easy to work out. He smiles like he detected something intriguing like a new Sherlock Holmes.

    Her reply comes with a chuckle, Well you’ve always got cream on your face from that doughnut you get every morning.

    Turning to walk off to her desk, smirking to herself after such a quick comeback at Jeb, she notices that he wipes the cream off and she giggles to herself a little.

    Lucy sets down at her desk with a sigh, mumbling to herself at her workload and how much she has to do.

    Ugh, I hate Mondays! she exclaims to herself, but dutifully sets out to finish the last part of her article. Just as her computer turns on and she begins to type, her boss walks over from his office and sits on her desk. Sebastien has always had a thing for her. She often wonders if it’s at least partially why she got the job in the first place with almost no experience other than her brief week at the high school paper. Attempting to look busy for a moment as he sits down to try and ignore him, but he waits patiently with a smile. After thinking that he’s not going anywhere till she addresses him, she looks up, faking a smile.

    Yes boss? she asks, barely masking her disdain for him, but he doesn’t notice. He’s a fairly slim guy, complete with a white and black pin stripe shirt that hangs off his frame. Short brown hair and thin rimmed circular glasses. He keeps himself tidy and organized. Not horrible to look at, but definitely not someone to date, being a little creepy in her opinion.

    Nice of you to join us Luce, good weekend was it? he asks, seemingly way too happy and interested in what she was doing over the weekend.

    Not a lot, the usual really. Yoga, drinks, friends. You? Her feigned interest in the conversation clearly not obvious enough when he responds.

    Oh, sounds like fun, any dates yet… or am I still in the running… only joking. An awkward laugh overtakes them both for a moment. Him because he’s so clearly interested in her and she just wants him to fuck off.

    Well nothing special yet, I won’t get my hopes up though. Sensing the work-related question approaching, Lucy dives in I’ll have this article done for you pretty snappy Sebastien, definitely by the midday deadline. She turns back to her screen and opens the document up to start work on it once more.

    Great, um… thanks again Lucy. Trying to save face by getting up, smiling at her even though she’s not looking and walking back to his office.

    After tapping in just a few words, she stops to get up and grab a coffee. Walking near to Jeb.

    Hey is this fresh? Pointing to the coffee pot.

    Uh… yeah. Glancing over for a brief second before looking back at his screen, appearing to be hard at work when he’s probably just reading some kind of gaming review instead. Lucy helps herself to the coffee, seeing that it is fresh and thanking some invisible force as she hates having to make it for everyone. Pouring some into her mug, she then goes back to her desk and types out some more of the article. By this point being completely sick of writing about an escaped baby rhino from the local zoo and how it started a fight with Mini Cooper car.

    After finishing the article and e-mailing it to Sebastien, receiving a reply consisting of several smiley faces. Ugh, again? she mutters to herself. Lucy sits there with her chin in the palm of her hand and tapping on the desk for a moment while contemplating the dream she’d had last night.

    Who was the strange man that was making love to her in her dream? Why was it that it was the third night in a row that she dreamt of him? The hold that he had over her and how real it all seemed too, just overwhelmed her and she lost control and was perfectly willing to give in to anything this man wanted from her.

    The mere thought of how he was caressing her breasts beginning to turn her on at her desk. She crosses her legs once more and her leggings hug her tightly. She shouldn’t really be daydreaming at work, least of all about a dream she keeps having and how much she wants to just keep having it. Without thinking about it, her other hand had moved to her inner thighs and she was squeezing it hard, especially at the thought of when he entered her. The feeling so real, so palpable. She could’ve sworn it was more like a memory as it was so vivid, but if it was, surely, she would have remembered it.

    The intimate daydream was interrupted at that moment by her computer making its usual e-mail notification sound. Ding. Snapping out of it, she opens it up and sees it is her boss telling her to check out a piece of information he has heard, of someone passing away in a local building. Writing back to him and asking why it was so important that she should be looking into it, his response being that the man happened to be rich and that he may have garnered his money illegally.

    Heeding the advice, Lucy picks up her bag and heads to the door. Taking her last sip of coffee as she goes before leaving it in the sink next to the coffee machine.

    Hot news to report Luce? Jeb asks while continuing to read something, most likely the review she figured he would be reading.

    Yep, hopefully something interesting and not about fucking rhinos again this time. They both chuckle as she opens the door with her shoulder and walks out.

    CHAPTER 2

    Arriving at the house, Lucy is a little surprised to see that no one is there, but the local police have taped over the front door. That annoying yellow tape they put so much of over crime scenes and yet so easy to get past and inside, as she proves by stepping through it and opening the door.

    It’s an old house.

    The door opens with a creak, almost like some kind of cliché scene from a film. It’s an old Victorian house. Black with white support beams in places, high angular ceilings, a pointing spire and long, thin windows. The outside wooden panels and beams that make up the walls are old and in serious need of repair too. She can see the inside now too, the high ceilings, heavy looking old doors made of wood, probably oak. The staircase long and winding as it coils around the hallway and leads upstairs.

    Walking in, the first thing to hit her is the smell. Like the place hadn’t been dusted or even cleaned in years. Looking left from the front door, there is a short hallway leading to what she assumes is the kitchen. Seeing the door partially open and noticing a fridge in there, hiding in the darkness. To her right just a few feet away is the main staircase. Further still was another room of which she assumes is either the downstairs toilet or a closet. The afternoon sun shines through the musty window half way up them. The yellow light casting rays into the area and the dust visibly floating around. Just underneath the staircase as it wound its way around the hall along the hall once, was the doorway to the living room.

    Lucy feels like she is walking into a horror novel. But those are just books and movies, nothing like that is going to happen here. The door closes slowly behind her as she pushes it to, then walks off up the stairs. Meandering through the rays of sunshine, she notices how the window from which it’s emanating from, is so thick with dust that she could run her finger through it. She avoids the temptation to do so and proceeds up the stairs.

    At the top of the stairs, she mutters herself, Strange place, how come someone died here? Looks like someone hasn’t been here for years.

    She walks down the hall, past a closet to the first bedroom. The door is open already, clearly the police have already been in here and looked around. The footprints in the dust-strewn carpet so obvious. Getting out her notebook, she starts to jot down things that she’s seen around the house so far. Noting how old the place appears to be, the lack of upkeep, how the police always seem to leave crumbs behind too.

    The room hasn’t got a lot in it, just a bed half made, an old oak wardrobe in the far corner, a bedside table with an old lamp that was once a deep, purple colour and matching curtains. After making a mental note of how there isn’t much of interest, she moves out and on to the master bedroom. This room is much grander. It’s also taped off like the front door, so it must be where the incident happened. Leaning down and stepping through the tape. Entering the room and instantly seeing where the body once laid. The white outline of where the man had died on the carpet at the foot of the bed. The large four post, oak bed dominating the room looks like it had been slept in. In fact, this room isn’t dusty at all and looks like someone had been living here.

    It was impossible to tell much about the man that died here, other than he most likely had long hair from the outline on the floor. Looking around the room, a set of huge curtains covers the large window. The room was right above the front door and clearly took up most of the room on this floor of the house. Lucy walks over to the curtains and pulls them open to see the street and driveway in front of her. Not a lot around here other than the nearest house a couple of hundred feet away and a wooded area surrounding the property. Her black Toyota Celica parked out front too.

    At that moment, she feels a chill down her spine, like someone is watching her or standing right behind her. Almost feeling their breath down her neck. She spins and looks. No one there at all.

    Weird… she mumbles. Then turning back to the window after scanning the room to make sure she is in fact alone. Nothing different outside either.

    Walking over to the armchair in the corner of the room, she sets herself down and writes out some notes. Unusual house, with a dead man in it. She’ll have to investigate who the man was and why it looked like he hadn’t left this bedroom for a long time. She looks up and across the room to see that there is a bathroom just off from the bedroom. The door wide open. But then continues to write notes out about what she sees, half eaten boxes of food, presumably take-away food on the bedside table, some clothes strewn over the floor near where he died. Was he naked when it happened? Was he a homeless man looking for shelter? Looking at the clothes, she guessed that it was some kind of younger man or maybe a runaway who took refuge here. It happened so many times and was common-place these days. But why had he died? So many questions.

    After pondering for a moment about what had happened here, chewing the end of her pen. She gets that feeling of being watched again. But this time she has her back to the wall and can see the whole room before her. The feeling not going away as she scans the room again. Unusual for her to feel unnerved by being in a place, normally full of confidence about things. Then that feeling grips her once more. That warmth deep inside her returning. She can’t stop thinking about that man in her dreams. About how his fingertips just caress her body and make her feel wanted, desired. Before she realises it, her hand is between her thighs and the tips of her fingers are pressed right up against herself, gliding up and down to tease her skin. This was not a normal occurrence for her, to feel this impulsive urge so much.

    Leaning back in her chair, that feeling of unease gone completely and replaced with this raw need to be filled and touched. The impulse to keep going and be ravaged, even stronger here in this old house for some unknown reason, that is just beyond her comprehension right now. Her middle finger glides up one side and down the other over her leggings. The fabric being pushed into her skin as she plays a bit harder. Her notepad and pen fall to the floor as she leans her head back and grips the arm of the chair. Her skin far more sensitive than usual. As her finger slips up once more and down over her loins, she shudders at the pressure and pleasure of it.

    Suddenly overwhelming her. She can’t think. Never before has she had this incessant need to play with herself anywhere. Curling her finger up a little and pressing right down onto her clitoris, hard. Moving it round and round slowly at first but building up speed.

    Her eyes closed and thinking intensely of the man in her dreams, imagining that they are his fingers toying with her. Teasing her. Then she slips her hand into her leggings and feels just how wet she has become from this. Her skin tingling at being touched. Almost like someone else was controlling her actions and forcing her to keep going. Beginning to shake now, her finger moving faster than before. Her other hand moving over her body, cupping her left breast momentarily and squeezing it hard. Fingers digging into her flesh as she lets out a moan. Eyes still closed and feeling his hand gripping her. The pain of fingernails ripping into her smooth skin before letting go and slipping up into her hair.

    Leaning her head back, her body convulses a little. Shuddering from the pleasure that’s running through her now. Time having no meaning to her now as she continues to play. More. Faster. Thinking of the man doing all of this to her. Leaning her head to the side almost begging for him to kiss her neck. Soft lips placed on her neck and kissing. Her finger now inside her. No memory of it pushing in but she can feel how soaked she is as it flows over her finger. Moaning loudly into the empty room. Her hips moving. Rotating in the chair as she grinds on her finger and just as she feels herself reaching that moment, a climax. Where it all builds up inside her, close to an explosion of pleasure and her head is leaning to the side. Thinking of him doing all this to her.

    Lucy… The sound of her name being whispered in her ear startles her so much that she actually jumps. It forces her to stop immediately. Her heart beating faster as a sense of fear builds within her.

    What was all that? The thought permeates through her head as the scent from her finger reaches her nose. A somewhat intoxicating and arousing smell for her. She’s just never had the urge to start playing like that before, let alone in an old musky house where someone has just died. Was there something wrong with her? More questions.

    Picking up her notepad and pen from the floor, she stands up. Her legs shaking a little bit as she gets up, finding it hard to begin walking. Good thing there aren’t any neighbours nearby to notice her as she walks a little awkwardly out of the house and to her car. Avoiding the tape as best she can, she has to get out of this house and think on her findings so far… which isn’t much to go on.

    Leaving and getting into her car, she drives off and reflects on what just happened. She shouldn’t have done that there, in that house, on that chair. But it felt so good and she has this nagging feeling that she wants to do it again. Like something in that house is drawing her to it and making her play with herself. Like something wants her, in a way that she’s not used to.

    Half way home, she comes to the conclusion that she can’t visit that house again unless absolutely necessary. Unable to explain it, but it feels like something there has a hold over her, drawing her there.

    ***

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