Strange Dominions: a collection of paranormal short stories (short story books) by David Calvert Page A
Authors: David Calvert
Tags: Short Stories
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then and there to lay my hands on her scrawny throat and squeeze the life out of the treacherous bitch and this Roger, whoever he was. One way or another, she was going to pay for her infidelity.
Shortly after returning to my physical form, I took stock of our relationship. How dumb could I have been? A blind man on a horse galloping through the dead of midnight would have been hard put not to see that it had scant chance of surviving. From the very outset it had been volatile and unpredictable. Now that sex and children were out of the picture the idea of spending a lifetime with a hopeless cripple must have been unbearable for Monique.
Incredibly, I found my attitude softening towards her.
Then came the lie, the fictional bullshit that hardened my resolve for revenge. A ‘sick friend’ was the excuse she used to get out of the house.
Jesus
! She couldn”t even bother her arse to come up with something original. I would have my revenge soon enough, but first I had to see for myself just who this Roger was.
The car’s digital clock showed the time at 20.00 hrs. It had taken only fifteen minutes to fix Monique’s image in my mind and leave my body and arrive, unseen, at her side. She had already pulled into a deserted side road and as a second car drew up behind, her welcoming smile left me in little doubt that the stranger stepping from it was her lover, Roger.
She embraced him with a passion that I had not seen in many a year. You could scarcely have slipped a sheet of paper between them. He was the type of guy you’d expect to see on the cover of some glossy fashion magazine. No doubt he had seduced Monique with his fashionable motor and sartorial elegance. To me, however, he was little more than a pretentious prick with too much money. She couldn’t have picked a more dissimilar partner if she’d tried.
I turned from the gut-wrenching spectacle, more determined than ever to exact my revenge on them. The question was how? How could I, crippled from the waist down in one form and incapable of physical contact in another, find the means of avenging myself? The answer, when it came, was incredibly simple.
Having seen more than enough, I returned home. As things turned out it would have been far better if I’d stayed, because I would have learned something more about Monique other than her infidelity. Foolishly, however, I allowed a moment of self-pity to determine my hasty action, and it was a costly mistake.
In the days that followed the tension grew worse and I could see in Monique’s eyes a new determination to put an end to the rancour that gnawed at her like a cancer. I also longed to be rid of it or, more accurately, to be rid of her! Then one night I discovered something strange, something I hadn’t been previously aware of.
Having vacated my sleeping body moments earlier, I looked down on the house as I rose into the night sky. To my astonishment a spectral figure drifted up through the roof and moved off in a westerly direction. It was Monique. I watched her naked form ascend, her long silken hair flowing down her spine. She looked so beautiful and innocent of aspect, almost angelic. But this was no angel I was dealing with, and I forcefully reminded myself of that fact.
In her wake a streamer of silvery mist extended down connecting her bodies, one to the other. I had learned that this silver cord was capable of infinite extension and would remain with her so long as she lived. It was a lifeline, an umbilical, that would warn of any danger to her material self and instantly return her astral spirit to it should the need arise.
I knew that whilst in astral form Monique could see me so I discreetly followed her on her outward journey, eventually managing to expunge the niggling doubt that she had perhaps always been capable of voluntary projection. Reassuringly, the fact that the cord was visible was evidence to the contrary. Had she been an adept, or at least comfortably familiar with her
Shortly after returning to my physical form, I took stock of our relationship. How dumb could I have been? A blind man on a horse galloping through the dead of midnight would have been hard put not to see that it had scant chance of surviving. From the very outset it had been volatile and unpredictable. Now that sex and children were out of the picture the idea of spending a lifetime with a hopeless cripple must have been unbearable for Monique.
Incredibly, I found my attitude softening towards her.
Then came the lie, the fictional bullshit that hardened my resolve for revenge. A ‘sick friend’ was the excuse she used to get out of the house.
Jesus
! She couldn”t even bother her arse to come up with something original. I would have my revenge soon enough, but first I had to see for myself just who this Roger was.
The car’s digital clock showed the time at 20.00 hrs. It had taken only fifteen minutes to fix Monique’s image in my mind and leave my body and arrive, unseen, at her side. She had already pulled into a deserted side road and as a second car drew up behind, her welcoming smile left me in little doubt that the stranger stepping from it was her lover, Roger.
She embraced him with a passion that I had not seen in many a year. You could scarcely have slipped a sheet of paper between them. He was the type of guy you’d expect to see on the cover of some glossy fashion magazine. No doubt he had seduced Monique with his fashionable motor and sartorial elegance. To me, however, he was little more than a pretentious prick with too much money. She couldn’t have picked a more dissimilar partner if she’d tried.
I turned from the gut-wrenching spectacle, more determined than ever to exact my revenge on them. The question was how? How could I, crippled from the waist down in one form and incapable of physical contact in another, find the means of avenging myself? The answer, when it came, was incredibly simple.
Having seen more than enough, I returned home. As things turned out it would have been far better if I’d stayed, because I would have learned something more about Monique other than her infidelity. Foolishly, however, I allowed a moment of self-pity to determine my hasty action, and it was a costly mistake.
In the days that followed the tension grew worse and I could see in Monique’s eyes a new determination to put an end to the rancour that gnawed at her like a cancer. I also longed to be rid of it or, more accurately, to be rid of her! Then one night I discovered something strange, something I hadn’t been previously aware of.
Having vacated my sleeping body moments earlier, I looked down on the house as I rose into the night sky. To my astonishment a spectral figure drifted up through the roof and moved off in a westerly direction. It was Monique. I watched her naked form ascend, her long silken hair flowing down her spine. She looked so beautiful and innocent of aspect, almost angelic. But this was no angel I was dealing with, and I forcefully reminded myself of that fact.
In her wake a streamer of silvery mist extended down connecting her bodies, one to the other. I had learned that this silver cord was capable of infinite extension and would remain with her so long as she lived. It was a lifeline, an umbilical, that would warn of any danger to her material self and instantly return her astral spirit to it should the need arise.
I knew that whilst in astral form Monique could see me so I discreetly followed her on her outward journey, eventually managing to expunge the niggling doubt that she had perhaps always been capable of voluntary projection. Reassuringly, the fact that the cord was visible was evidence to the contrary. Had she been an adept, or at least comfortably familiar with her
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