Ancestral

Saying Goodbye

The investigation did not take long at all.  None of the three bodies could be positively identified, and, of course, the authorities would not take our word for their identities since our informants were ghosts.  Because they were not identified they were destined for nameless pauper's graves in the back of the well kept municipal cemetery on the edge of town. However, since the circumstances were unusual, and there were really no family members to object, they did allow us to have some input into their burials.  We asked that Mariah not be buried near the boys, and asked if it were possible to bury the boys in the old pauper's graveyard we had stumbled upon in the woods.  I though Silas would like to be near Maggie.  To our surprise they agreed to both of these things.  Since the old graveyard had never officially been decommissioned it was still appropriate to use it.  They were even willing to allow us to provide gravestones if we wanted.  Andi made one final request.  She asked if a small packet of 'personal belongings' could be included in Mariah's grave with her remains. Again, since there was no one to be upset, they just slipped it in. At the burials, which we all attended, she confided that it was an amulet designed to keep her tied to the grave.

We ordered stones that looked like Molly's for the boys, and put their full names on them.  For Mariah, we ordered a simple stone with only her first name and last initial. From her grave-site you could see the Foster family plot, and the headstones of her parents and all her siblings.  A few of her siblings had stones with no death date on them because the plot had been laid out when Emma died and a stone was prepared for each of the children as they were born, but some of them had moved away and were buried elsewhere.  Mariah had a stone there with her full name and date of birth, but her death date was empty.  It was sad to know she was exiled from the family, but this was her own choice and none of us could feel particularly sorry for her.  When the boys' stones arrived Ben and I made a pilgrimage to the cemetery in the woods and brought some flowers for them and Maggie.  

Heather proved to be an excellent research assistant over the summer.  And was particularly adept at finding details in unexpected places.  It didn't take long at all to put together a new display on the history of the boarding house, and we planned to follow that up by highlighting the Hathaway.  I made further inquiries about the abandoned building and found the city would practically be willing to give it to me if it were either razed or restored.  I wasn't interested in tearing it down, so I brought in some structural engeneers and found that the brickwork was sound and if the roof were replaced it could probably be salvaged.  It wouldn't be cheap, but it probably wouldn't cost much more than a new house. I spoke to the bank and they were willing to give me a mortgage that would cover the expense.  

I remained at the boarding house as construction got underway, and began working on a personal project. I wanted to tell the boys' stories, but with little more than the visions Sylas had given me, it wasn't the kind of thing that the museum would be interested in.  I started writing down what I could remember, and Ben helped fill in some of the details.  It turned out to be an intensely erotic love story with a real historical foundation.  I knew it was true, but expected no one would believe it was anything but fiction.  

One night when it was almost finished and I was up late editing one of the last chapters, I decided to run down to the kitchen for a bedtime snack.  As I was turning to take my snack back to my room, I heard a faint bump in the basement, and noticed the door come unlatched and begin to swing open.  I listened and heard the echo of a faint giggle and knew the boys were still here.  I set my snack down and stood at the open door, listening.  

Suddenly I heard a noise behind me and a groggy Ben entered the kitchen.  “Something woke me up.  What's going on?”

“Shhh...I thought I heard...”

The giggle echoed again in the basement and Ben heard it this time too.  “Oh, them, I was wondering when they were going to want to see you again.”

“You mean you knew they...”

“They never left,” he said calmly. “They've just been laying low down there.  I think they've been waiting for something.”  he grabbed me by the hand and led the way. “Come on, let's see what they want.”

The basement had changed considerably since the night we confronted the harpy.  The wire cages for resident storage had been removed and the door to the back was left unlocked. I had worked with a local antiques dealer and a junk shop to go through most of the stuff that had just been piled in the storage rooms and garage, and they were pretty much empty now, except for a few things that Mr. P. decided to keep for himself or donate to the museum.  Each of the residents now had access to one of the storage rooms for personal use instead of the old cages.  The secret room had also been cleaned up and the original furniture from when Markus was living there was retained and restored.  We sort of kept this room set apart as a place for the boys if they wanted it.  We also tended to avoid it since it had housed the Mariah ghoul thing for so long. Andi had smudged it and tried various other cleansing rituals, but it still maintained an unmistakable air of anger and oppression.

The root cellar was by far the most transformed space in the cellar.  The bricks that had concealed the bodies had been completely removed and the original wooden panels and door had been restored.  The old debris had been cleared up and the old shelves had been removed.  They were replaced with low shelves, no more than three feet tall, and counters.  These were all affixed to the walls so there was no chance of them falling over, and framed copies of historic photos of the house and its history hung on the upper part of the walls.  The room now functioned as a pantry and the shelves held a variety of canned goods, dried foods and root vegetables, as well as seldom used specialty items for the kitchen. New lighting and electricity had been extended throughout the basement, except for the secret room, and the overall atmosphere was as bright and airy as possible considering there were no windows and the walls were all stone or brick.  

When we reached the main room, Ben and I stood still and listened for a moment.  Silence.  He looked around and suddenly said, “This way,” and led me toward the secret room. The shelves that lined the arches on the wall separating the secret room from the rest of the cellar were largely empty now.  The shelf unit that disguised the hidden door was deliberately left empty for easy access.  A stash of candles and matches sat in a basket on a neighboring shelf and we each grabbed one, lit it, and entered the room.

I saw nothing out of the ordinary, an empty bed, a chair, and a desk.  The exterior door remained bolted shut and the silence was absolute.  “Well?” I whispered, “What now?”

“I don't know,” he admitted.  I just know they're here.”

It was late and I was already heading to bed before we came down here, so I sat on the bed and said, “Fine. Sylas, what do you want?  I need some sleep.”  We both heard an unmistakable giggle at that point, but I was getting no direction or message from the boys.  Just as I began to feel frustrated, Ben sat down beside me and took my hand.  

“Don't worry,” he said softly. “There's always time for sleep.”  He leaned in and kissed me tenderly on the lips.  “But right now will never come again.”  

His voice carried overtones that I recognized as Markus's, and I could feel my desire for Ben rising as I sensed Sylas's desires for Markus within me.  “Oh.” was all I could say as I came to realize that the boys wanted to make love through and with us.  I could tell I wasn't going to sleep tonight. They wanted to take it slow and make it last.  I surrendered myself to the passion and pleasure I knew would follow and wondered if this was what Helmut experienced when he used to visit the boys down here.  I could hear Sylas's laughter in my head and understood as he made a distinction between fucking and making love.  I sensed that Helmut had never had this level of intimacy with the boys.  

We spent the night alternating between hardcore sex and cuddling.  As we approached the edge we would back off and spend some time kissing and caressing each other.  But this would inevitably bring us back to hard dicks and hungry holes.  We took turns doing everything, and did it all, over and over again, not allowing ourselves to cum until just before dawn.  

When we had finally  exploded, and were catching our breath covered in sweat and cum, I understood two things from Sylas.  First, I caught a momentary glimpse of his last memory. Mariah's twisted face was looking down at our naked bodies, covered with the contents of the overstocked shelves.  She had tricked us into making love in the root cellar, and had rigged the shelves to fall on us.  Markus was lying under me, his empty eyes staring at me without seeing.  A large box had crushed his skull before bouncing off to one side.  I was pierced with large pieces of broken glass and could feel the life oozing out of me.  I couldn't move because of the weight of the shelves and could only listen as I heard her harsh voice saying, “You abominations are going straight to hell where you belong.  I'll see to that.”  She nudged Markus with her foot to make sure he was dead.  He didn't move.  I tried to raise my head and protest, but couldn't.  She saw the slight movement and roughly lifted my chin to look in my eyes.  “Know this.  No one will mourn you.  No one will even remember you.”  She laughed as I struggled to free myself from her grip, and watched as my eyes began to grow cloudy and fade.  The last thought I remembered was a resolution to fight her with everything I had, in this life and the next.   As the vision ended, I realized that the boys were ready to move on.  They had been waiting for me to tell their story.  To break her curse. Now they could be at peace.

The second thing I received from Sylas was a deep sense of gratitude.  He was not just grateful for me telling his story, he was also deeply grateful for us allowing them to make love one last time before they departed forever.  I caught a brief glimpse of the two talismans that Mariah had used to trap their souls on this plane and understood that they needed to be unmade if the boys were to be free.  This was their final request.  I assured him that I would approach Andi about doing it properly first thing in the morning.  Ben rolled over and kissed me at that point.  “I can feel what you're telling them,” he whispered.  “If you want, we could offer them one more night of love before they go.”

“Just what I was thinking as well.” I smiled.  I could feel the wave of gratitude wash over me as they accepted the offer, and then they were gone.  Ben and I cuddled for a brief moment.  The room felt different.  The oppressive atmosphere was gone.  It seems the room needed a specific kind of ritual to drive out the last traces of Mariah's energy.  We sorted out our clothes and headed back up to our rooms.  “Stay with me?” I asked as we climbed the stairs.  We were regularly sleeping together in one room or another, and only occasionally sleeping separately.  Mostly when I was working into the night.

“Absolutely,” he grinned, kissing me softly.  

Suddenly Helmut appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing the jock strap I had become so familiar with. “out of my way!” he insisted as he forced his way past us and down the stairs.  “They woke me up!  First time in months.”  I looked at my watch and sure enough it was almost four.  

“I guess the boys are giving him a farewell fuck,” Ben chuckled as we reached the kitchen.  “Good for him.”

“Yeah, I've seen what they do with him.  Hot, but I prefer what they did with us tonight.”  I reached over and kissed him again.  “And tomorrow night too.”

We suddenly heard Helmut's voice from the basement, “Oh god!  Fuck yeah!”

We laughed as we climbed the stairs to my room arm in arm, listening to the sounds of  the muscle man being fucked in the basement.  Ben looked at me with a smile   “Me too,” he said, “Me too.”