Laura's Story by John Stormm (best novel books to read .TXT) 📕

She also knew by her own measuring, that I was a "breed", before I had walked in the door, the first day we met. But said nothing about it at the time. I was, in no small way, impressed with her. But I was already giving myself a good scolding for sleeping with too many women, and after what she did to Glen, it would probably be safer for me if I just slammed my penis in a car door than get too intimate with Laura. But in the craft, and in my family, I have many sisters. Gals that I'm very close to, that I never, ever sleep with, and never consider ever sleeping with, that are still a blessing to share a little time with. I was thinking at the time that Laura was well worth that kind of relationship, and that it would pose none of the hazards, and miserable mind games that came as stock options with all the other kinds of relationships. I had made a remarkable new friend.

A few weeks had gone by since that meeting, and we seen each other at the diner from time to time. The usual harmless flirting and friendliness, and she had even mentioned how nice it was to chat with me when she could, because every other day, some foolish bastard was falling hopelessly in love with her. As I was already known for having too many girlfriends, I had figured that it was one of those intangible traits we shared as hybrids. I was a fine young incubus and she was a foxy young succubus; so what could be more "natural" in our day-to-day lives?

I was only sorry that I didn't have any real good advice for how to turn that off. I had never really been aware of that trait in myself, until I decided to test it out and exploit it that summer. My little brother would always remark: "I don't know what it is that you got, bro; but if we ever figure out how to get it into a bottle, we'll be RICH!" I had always figured that I was so easy around women because of my witchy history, and women are predominant in the craft, and I'm comfortable around them, so the feelings must be mutual. As I said, Laura was an education for me too.

It was a summer night at Silver Stadium, and for insurance purposes, everytime the stadium was open for a sporting event, such as the Rochester Red Wings, an ambulance and medics had to be present and standing by on the property. Our headquarters were only a block down the road, but we had boxed seats reserved for us at every game. On this evening, there was myself and Oren, who had also worked as a medical examiner, when he wasn't moonlighting on the ambulance with us. We were hanging out by the rig in the front of the stadium, inside the main gate, chatting to folks before the game started.

Coming in with the crowd, all smiles and with her little brother, Rusty in tow, came Laura. I had noticed that she was talking to a couple of the police officers, who also stood by at the games. A little talking and looking about and a shrug of the shoulders and she eventually made it over my way, and gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. We were friendly, but she had never greeted me like this before this night. I'm a big, intimidating guy, and unless we have some sort of prior understanding, I always respect a woman's space, and am careful to never loom over them. So this was a surprise to me. It was even more of a surprise, when she sent Rusty on to their seats, climbed up on the back of the rig, and started massaging my neck and shoulders and whispered urgently in my ear. This would give nearly any guy wet dreams!

However, it was not sweet nothings being whispered in my ear, but a plea for help. She was being stalked by a man, and she had tried to report it to the cops onsite, but this was the Seventies: there were no anti-stalking laws back then, and the officers couldn't do anything to help her until some crime was committed. As it was, the guy she had tried to point out to them, lingering discreetly in the distance, could have simply and coincidentally, been coming to see the same ballgame. She was explaining to me that maybe, if he thought she was with her steady boyfriend, that maybe he would take the hint and just go away and find something else to do. As it turned out, she couldn't have been more wrong about that. This man had a more serious and sinister focus than that.

We stayed for the entire game, and didn't have to make any hospital runs, dealing only with minor injuries and first aid at the rig. Laura and Rusty joined us in our boxed seats, directly behind Home Plate. The man she had pointed out to me lingered in the isle above the boxed sections and hardly ever took his eyes off her for the whole game. I wanted to approach him and have a discreet word with him to warn him off, but never got the chance. I couldn't put Laura and Rusty in the rig to drive home, so Oren took the rig back to base, after the game. It wasn't all that far to my apartment on Lake Avenue, and her dad's house was only a few blocks beyond that. It was a lovely summer night for a stroll, so her, Rusty and I walked out of the stadium together and westward, down Norton Street, with a stranger following about a block behind us all the way.

As we got nearer to my place, I invited them up for soft drinks (yes, really), but Laura sent Rusty running off down the street for home. The stalker wasn't interested in him and couldn't catch him if he tried. Laura and I headed upstairs to the pad alone. Glen was off on one of his many reconciliations with his ex-wife, and Rick was working overnighters at the base, so we had the pad to ourselves. I was warning myself, not to assume that because I had played knight errant for her damsel in distress, that I had any call to expect anything else from her.

Her sending Rusty off like that was some indication that she wanted to get me alone up in my apartment. But for all that I knew, that could well have been just to be able to talk about things that were never meant for unitiated ears. I showed her the place and got us some lemonade, wondering if I might want to offer a little bit of bourbon to go in it. But I refrained. I wasn't going to make it a habit to take every gal I met to bed, so after wards we stood awkwardly, for a moment or two, in my living room, and she walked up to me and threw her arms around my neck, and gave me a kiss on my lips, that has not faded in my mind for the last 40 years.

I don't think it was a really long kiss, but a million things were rushing all at once in my mind. My first thought and inclination was that we were surely heading for the bedroom next. My next thought was of how much Glen had aged in a single night with this woman, and what she might be able to do to me. My following thought, was that Glen was all too human and that it would take a great deal more than that to drain me. And then came that sensation, like I was kissing my sister. Not that my sisters didn't deserve a good kiss now and then, but I'd feel nothing but wrong to go any further than that. As we opened our eyes and looked at each other, I could see a myriad of thoughts crossing her mind too.

I hadn't yet figured how I was going to explain to her why a such a pair as us, alone in this fine apartment, were not going to give that fine, kingsized bed a workout that would make Aphrodite swoon from the sheer passion of it. But she looked down and took my hands, and led us both out of the apartment, and we walked the rest of the way to her dad's house, holding hands. Again, less than a block behind us, followed her stalker. He had waited outside, across the street for the whole visit. Which probably wasn't all that long really. But this man was seriously intent upon Laura in a most unhealthy way.

We had just walked up onto her front porch, when her dad came to the door to let her in. Rusty had shared the news. He and Laura thanked me for being the perfect gentleman, and Laura gave me a kiss on the cheek and I turned to go. I headed directly for the stalker in the shadows. As I got closer and was unerringly heading directly for him, he turned away and started taking evasive action by hiding in the trees and shadows of Maplewood Park.

I felt that at the very least, I had to impose enough of a threat upon him to frighten him into abandoning his obsession. The shadows were by no means enough to hide him from my senses. I could feel his vibes like a filthy funk upon the night breeze all night long, and I could smell the fear in his sweat as I kept closing in on him. Somewhere nearer the edge of the gorge, that contained the Genesee River, the vibes changed, and I knew he was laying in wait for me, among the trees near the steps down to the river.

He had chosen a large folding knife, that he intended to stick between my ribs. It didn't matter much to me, as it wouldn't have been the first or the last that these ribs have been violated by. When his hand shot out of the shadows, I pulled it to my left, and with my right hand, I grabbed his neck and lifted him up by it, and cast him down all of those steps to the bottom of the gorge. I was of a mind to just leave him without checking. But if he was alive down there, it might be that I may have to render some aid to him, and promise him that it would only get worse, if he failed to leave Laura be. As it was, he was dead at the bottom of the stair.

 A broken neck was the first thing I had noticed. I checked his pockets for a wallet or some kind of ID, to know who it was I had just killed. In them, was also a small caliber, snub nosed revolver that wouldn't really have helped him much, had he chose to use that instead. He'd still be dead of a broken neck, and I'd still be writing this memoire today. Maybe with an extra small scar somewhere on my body. I used his own hanky to wipe down anything that I had touched, and replaced everything back into his pockets. In your world, you imagine that