Anathema by David Greske

been so physical. It was as if something had come over him. Something that was exciting, yet frightening all at the same time.
    Diane pulled back the curtain and stepped under the shower. The water felt good as it hit her skin, especially around her hips and thighs. But when she turned her back to the spray, she yelped. It felt as if her back had been stung by a hundred angry hornets.
    She turned off the shower, dried herself with a thick, fluffy bath towel, and craned her neck so she could see her back in the mirror.
    Her eyes widened. There were long, jagged scratches running down her spine. They weren't bleeding, but were puffy and inflamed, and the hot water had brought them screaming to life.
    Whatever had gotten into her husband this morning, she hoped would stay around for a while, but she would have to tell him to take it easy with the fingernails.
    Diane finished drying off, considered putting salve on her injuries, but didn't, then padded into the bedroom to dress.
    She was still smiling when she headed into town to pick up the children.

 
    Chapter 8
    Jim hurt. His loins felt as if they were on fire. He had no idea what came over him in the kitchen, but he certainly wasn't himself. It had been as if an unseen force possessed him. That he was looking at things through someone or something else's eyes. The images of his orgy with the dead were beginning to fade along with the memory of last night's disturbing dream. Mentally, he was becoming his old self again, but physically, he'd hurt for days.
    Jim wiped the sweat from his face with the green ‘kerchief he had tied around his neck. Rufus found solace under the porch. His body was stretched along the stone foundation to keep cool. His snout rested on his outstretched paws. The dog's pink tongue hung from his mouth like a piece of raw, dried steak. The dog days of summer had arrived, and it was a cooker.
    Rufus's ears perked up, and he lifted his head at the brown pick-up that rumbled up the driveway. The dog barked once, then settled back down. It was too hot for such nonsense.
    Jarvis stepped out of the pick-up and walked toward Jim. Dressed in a pair of dusty cowboy boots, faded jeans, dirty T-shirt, and sweat-stained cowboy hat, he looked like a character out of a Clint Eastwood spaghetti western.
    Jim dropped the scythe in the grass and moved to greet Jarvis.
    "Who's minding the store?” Jim asked.
    "Nobody, I just closed it down for a couple of hours. Owners can do that sort of thing."
    "I was just about to take a break. Have a beer. Care to join me?"
    Jarvis squinted and looked up at the sun. The angry, white-hot orb throbbed in the too blue sky. “Don't mind if I do. It'll go down good on a day like today."
    The inside of the house wasn't much cooler than outside, but at least the sun wasn't beating down on them. Sunlight shone through the kitchen window and cast a golden rectangle on the warm linoleum. Despite the dark cabinetry and center island, there was still an airy feel to the room. The smell of fried bacon lingered in the air.
    "Wow, I'd forgotten how big this place really is,” Jarvis remarked.
    The kitchen was one of the three largest rooms in the house. The other two were the main bath on the first floor and the master bedroom on the second level. Jarvis's own kitchen was but a cubbyhole with barely room enough for him to turn around.
    Jim went to the refrigerator and grabbed a couple cans of Budweiser. When he turned around, he found Jarvis sitting at the table, and although he tried not to, Jim couldn't help but chuckle. If his friend knew what had happened on that table earlier, he may have chosen another place to sit.
    Jim popped the top on the beers and handed one to Jarvis.
    "So, what brings you this way?” Jim took a swallow of his brew and wiped the foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. He joined Jarvis at the table.
    "I just thought I'd stop by and see how you're settlin’ in. And to invite you and the family to tonight's