Broken Hearts & Other Horrors

By Xavier Poe Kane and Corey Galal

Everyone gets their heart broken at least once. Whether you're a mercenary in 17th-century Hungary or a transplant to Missouri in 2019, we've all been there. But in some universes, love's aftermath is a tad more gruesome. From crunching bones on midnight asphalt to burning flesh in an ashen snowfall, ever

• Language: English
• Publisher: C2 Visionary Press
• Release date: May 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088157947

Xavier Poe Kane

Still not a best-selling author, Xavier Poe Kane is a former door gunner on the International Space Station. When not making the galaxy safe for democracy, he writes whatever weirdness comes to mind. He currently lives in the woods-and in a state of mutual weirdness-with his wife Morticia and their dogs, Chuck Norris and the three-legged Jabba the Hutt. Thanks to the GI Bill, he has an MFA in Popular Fiction Writing & Publishing from Emerson College.

Book preview

Broken Hearts

&

Other Horrors

Kane, Xavier Poe, 1975-

Broken Hearts & Other Horrors / Xavier Poe Kane.

1. Paranormal – Fiction. 2. Horror – Fiction. 3. Supernatural – Fiction.

Copyright © 2023 Xavier Poe Kane

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-08809006-0

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-08809009-1

This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. All other names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Edited by Kayla Randolph

Illustrations (interior) by Corey Galal

Cover design by Richard Turylo

Interior layout by Alea Adrian

Trailer by Sally Roughton

C2 Visionary Press, LLC

St. Louis, Missouri

To Morticia Kane, as no writer can be successful without the love and support of their significant other.

Broken Hearts

&

Other Horrors

Introduction

Past Is Prologue

Dokkaebi

The Last Bride

The Werewolf Truce

Hallelujah

Other

Appalachia

The Anniversary

Pea Ridge

Suzanne

An Angry God

The Conversation

Afterword

Sources Consulted

Acknowledgments

Coming Soon

Introduction

Hello, dear reader,

What you hold in your hands is a book that can be read in two ways. The first is as an anthology of horror and suspense stories written by an indie author early in his career—the idea upon which this tome was originally conceived. Nothing is lost in reading the stories in whatever order you may choose or even in skipping some completely.

However, as it evolved, the theme of heartbreak connected the stories. During this process of evolution, I read an article on the Ring Lady. She was a casualty of Mt. Vesuvius’s 79 CE eruption who was uncovered in the ruins of a stable in the town of Herculaneum. Archeologists also found the remains of men and boats along the shore from the time of the eruption. The Ring Lady had died surrounded by women and children as those men prepared boats in a futile attempt to escape.

This meshed with one of my favorite Edgar Allan Poe stories: The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion. In Poe’s story, two souls are reunited in the afterlife after a comet destroys Earth. Thus, a meta-narrative of a couple cruelly separated by tragedy at the beginning of their love story, doomed to spend several lifetimes searching for each other, was born. This leads to the second way to read this book: as a novel, treating each story as a jump through dimensions, space, and time.

Whichever way you choose to read it, I, my editor Kayla, and my illustrator Corey all hope you enjoy!

Pleasant Nightmares!

XPK

Past Is Prologue

I t’s beautiful, Marcus Vespasianus said as he held the delicate ruby ring to the light. He admired the way it glistened in the sunlight. She loves red.

I could carve a nice peacock into the stone if you want, sir, the jeweler offered.

No, I think she’d prefer it the way it is.

She must be special. New wife?

Marcus only nodded as the glimmer of an emerald ring caught his eye next. Green had always been his favorite color. As he held the two rings next to one another, he imagined them on Rufina’s slender finger. It was fashionable for the women of his station to wear two rings on each finger, with the exception of the middle finger. This would be the start of his second wife’s jewelry collection.

Second wife. A smile lit up his face. Once the divorce from Livilla was settled, he would be free. With this separation from his shrew of a wife, he could take the last step toward his happiness. He had shunned politics and went his own way in building his fortune. Then, on a visit to the slave market, he came across a dark-haired beauty from Judea. Her eyes drew him in; there was a strength in them—a sense of nobility above her station.

His social-climbing wife had her mysteries, so why could he not have his? He purchased the girl and brought her into their home. His wife barely noticed her. Meanwhile, she had taken possession of Marcus’s heart. More than that, the passion she stoked in him freed him from the constraints of Roman social and political expectations. He was no longer his family’s puppet and the vehicle of his wife’s ambition. He had found his authentic self.

When his wife told him her father was exploring a better match for her, he barely contained his joy. Once she moved back in with her father, he decided it was time to take his true love on a holiday and declare his intent to build a life with her—as partner instead of property.

Rufina stood watching the waves of the Tyrrhenian Sea crash against Herculaneum’s beaches. The sea breeze ruffled her tunic as she awaited her master’s return. The kitchen of the inn was preparing the midday meal for the guests. The smell of fresh seafood cooking over an open flame made her stomach grumble, but Marcus had told her to wait while he fetched lunch.

She closed her eyes and thought of Joppa, her home in Judea. Her thoughts were less than nostalgic: her father haggling among the patriarchs of two families over her bride price and listening to the men discuss her status as a virgin. Such talk was what prepared her for the Roman slave stand after she had been taken as a spoil of war when Rome crushed the Jewish revolt. There she had been displayed naked, but the tablet with her personal information saved her much of the ignominy she had felt listening to men debate her sexual value in her own home. That her father had played a central role in the debates had been far more humiliating than the ogling of strange men in a foreign land.

It was there that she first saw her master’s eyes; they were steel-blue and full of laughter. He bantered with the slave dealer as she dared to steal glances at him. He was attractive, which was more than could be said of the entitled boys whose families her father had been negotiating with.

The sound of him entering ended her idle thoughts and brought a smile to her lips. The scents from the kitchen smelled incredible, but it was here—away from the other slaves, his family, and especially his wife—that they could share a decent meal without gossip or scandal.

Don’t turn around, he ordered. Close your eyes.

She obeyed and felt him step behind her. Her heart raced as she anticipated his hands removing her tunic. Instead, cold metal was pressed into her hand.

I must admit I lied about getting lunch. I wanted to get something else. Look at them, he whispered as he began nibbling her ear. His hands freely slid around her hips, slowly exploring her body.

Rufina opened her eyes and looked at the two rings she held in her hand, one with a red gemstone and the other blue-green. The rumbling of her stomach was forgotten at the sudden surprise.

He took them from her and slipped them on her left index finger.

Thank you, she said softly.

The gift, she was sure, signaled she was more than a common slave.

His hand slipped between her legs, his fingers rubbing along her slit and finding the hooded bundle of nerves once wet. He softly began to swirl the pad of one finger, teasing her clit from hiding. She squirmed as he built her arousal.

No other master had cared about her pleasure. Marcus was different. He seemed to gain more pleasure out of the fuck when she responded to what he was doing to her. Some days he would take her to the edge before pushing her on her back and taking her. Other times he would let her come and then slowly make love to her.

The gift, she was sure, signaled she was more than a common slave.

She shuddered and let out a cry as he brought her to orgasm. He then swept her off her feet and carried her inside the inn to bed. He laid her down gently, and she spread her legs for him as he found his way between them. She reached for his cock and guided it inside before draping her arms around his neck. Rufina cherished these private moments when he was gentle with her.

Despite the extravagant gift he’d given her, she fought the urge to truly get her hopes up that there was something real developing between them. Then again, there was a reason Marcus brought her and not his wife to Herculaneum. Those thoughts were chased from her mind as he pressed his lips to her neck, softly sucking as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her bare chest into his. Everything he was doing hit her just right as his lips moved closer to her ear.

Mine, he growled.

Yes, Master, she groaned.

I won’t be your master much longer. His voice was husky.

Her heart sank. She knew he must have felt her body stiffen and unconsciously pull away, their moment of pleasure lost. Her mind was instantaneously a storm of confusion. Why would he present her with presents befitting a freeborn lover only to inform her of her pending gifting or sale to another master?

Have I displeased you, Master?

No. His lips tongued at the spot right below her ear that never failed to arouse her. I just received word from Livilla. Her father has arranged a better husband for her in Rome. They are petitioning for divorce. Once everything is settled, you will be freed, and then I want you as my wife. He slowly continued taking her and returned to gently biting her ear.

She went still as his words turned inside her mind.

Or perhaps I won’t free you if you don’t want to be my wife. His tone was as playful as his words were ominous.

Rufina’s eyes moved to his. Do you speak the truth? This isn’t some cruel amusement? Her heart pounded as he slowed to a stop, still buried inside her.

No, I love you. My marriage to Livilla was for wealth and power; there was no affection in that shrew’s heart. I’m also done with the corruption of Rome. I’ve found a cottage here, at the base of Vesuvius, where we’ll live a simple kind of life.

She saw the truth of his words in his eyes and once again wrapped her arms around his neck. I love you too, Master. She kissed him.

He broke the kiss. Marcus. Call me Marcus, Rufina.

Yes, Marcus. The name felt good on her lips, and she kissed him as he found his rhythm, taking her now as his betrothed.

Soon the couple began building together, the bed shaking as he finished inside her, and her body responded with a second orgasm. Even as he slowed and they came down from bliss, the bed continued to shake. Rufina laughed as Marcus relaxed on top of her.

I think we woke Vesuvius, she quipped.

He laughed, rolled off her, and pulled her to him. Just another earthquake. It’s normal here. Something we’ll have to get used to.

She ran her left hand over his chest, the sun glinting off the gemstones. She was particularly fond of the ruby one. I can’t wait to see the spot you picked out, she said as her stomach impatiently resumed its rumbling.

Perhaps tomorrow I’ll take you there. But for now, I think we need to eat.

She followed Marcus out of bed and stopped to pick her tunic up from the floor.

No, he said. I have something else for you. He handed her a bundle: a linen stola and palla.

The dyed cloth—pink for the stola and orange for the palla—took Rufina’s breath away. But … I’m still a slave?

Marcus grinned. No one in Herculaneum knows you’re not my wife. So why not get used to it? Hurry, I’m starting to get hungry, too.

Deep beneath Herculaneum, Vesuvius was stirring, unaware of and unconcerned with the humans and other animals living in his shadow. Uncomfortably hot, he began to spew a mix of ash and pumice into the air.

But this was not enough to relieve the pressure.

The couple moved through the streets, no one the wiser it was master and slave and not husband and wife. Street vendors hawked gaudy trinkets brought from around the Mediterranean. Marcus bought two gold bracelets that had caught her eye.

An early dowry, he teased jovially.

After finishing their midday meal, they were ready to return to their room at the inn, to revel in each other’s lust and make love again.

What strange clouds, Rufina said as she pointed to Vesuvius.

Marcus looked where she pointed. He wrapped his arms around her, his lips close to her ear as he spoke. They look like umbrella pines.

They stood for a moment watching the mushroom-shaped cloud tethered to the mountain by a thin, white column.

They’re beautiful but not as beautiful as you.

I noticed them a while ago. They haven’t moved. She placed her hands over his. Are you sure it’s safe?

I think—

All at once, the earth began to quake, tossing the couple to the ground. People around them screamed. When the earth settled and they were able to stand, Marcus grabbed Rufina’s hand and began running toward the inn.

What’s happening? Rufina asked, her voice strained with panic.

I don’t know! Marcus replied, his voice cracking with fear.

Vesuvius! It’s erupting! someone yelled.

The couple kept their eye trained on the now foreboding cloud as they ran.

The winds are with us! Marcus exclaimed, watching the cloud slowly start to expand toward the southeast.

However, ash began to fall like snow as they made it back to the inn. Once in their room, Marcus gathered the few valuables he had brought with them.

"Keep those bracelets with you. We might need to bribe the