Date: Mon, 2 May 2005 11:51:46 -0700 (PDT)
From: JMH <trandar2002@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Marks/The Mark of James chp #1-scifi

Well folks...  it's been ages since I wrote anything on the first story
ever posted on Nifty...' The Mark', but always wanted to get back too
it.  When I did finally have a break in my schedual to go back to the
series I found myself lost, having not written on any of the characters
in over two years.  So... with this series I am starting almost from
scratch... some of the main characters are still here but the story-line
is completely different, taking only a few bits and pieces from the
original series.  Still I hope y'all come to enjoy it as much as I have
had writing it.  If you do... drop me a line and tell me what you think.
Thanks.

				    JMH

			   trandar2002@yahoo.com

 ****************************************************************************

     Tara sat on the park bench in Central Park in the darkness of night,
the cold autumn air chilling her through her thin worn coat.  She knew
what the doctor at the clinic would say... that she had no business being
out this time of night, not with her medical condition.

Three years ago, that no good husband of hers had abandoned her.  Not for
another woman, but for a man.  That betrayal did not anger her so much as
the mess he left behind, a half dozen maxed out credit cards, the car
repossessed, followed soon by her eviction for their six thousand dollar
a month apartment.

     After six months of living in a homeless shelter, Tara was finally
assigned a small apartment in the Bronx, a gift from social services.
Now with a job at one of the large retail book stores, she let herself
feel a brief moment of hope.  That was of course before she stepped on
the final landmine left by her husband.

     At first Tara thought she just had a bad case of the flu.  Into the
second week however she was too weak to leave her own bed.  It was her
four year old son, James, the little trooper who had remained ever
cheerful during the recent rough patch, who saved her life, going to
their next door neighbor for help.

     It was three weeks before Tara had the strength to leave the
hospital.  By that time she knew the depth of her husband's betrayal.
He had not only left her with a mountain of debt, but also some of the
most feared letters in human history... AIDS.  From what the doctors told
her, she had been infected several years ago, the diseases only now
revealing its ugly head.  The only good news was that James had been born
before she had become infected.

Knowing her husband's betrayal now predated back to when they had just
been dating, caused something in Tara to snap.  She was never the same
person since.  On disability, she lived most of her life bouncing from
one addiction or another, her life mimicking the same downward spiral of
her health.  James remained the same however, watching and protecting his
mother from harming herself too severely.

     It was at a bar where she would trade in her meager food stamps for
a bottle of scotch that she met the stranger while in one of her drunken
stupors.   Making eye contact with the man, his deep piercing brown eyes
did not look so much at her hollowed out face as it did her frail soul.
He took Tara with a firm hand away from the bar, into a dark alley where
he whispered to her all her dark secrets and desires while promising he
would make them all come true.  He only demanded she pay a price... a
small price really given her condition.  It was one she would readily pay
for what he was offering.

     That was why she was in the park tonight, even though she was
already running a burning fever.  It was time to make her down payment
for the promises the stranger had made.

     She felt the stranger before she saw him, his cold body sliding up
next to hers on the park bench.  "So you have made your choice."

     "Was there any doubt?  Even if you are nothing more than some
crazed mad man... if you keep even one of your promises it will be worth
the price you ask."

     The stranger wrapped an arm around Tara's thin waist.  "But are
you sure this is really what you want."

     "Yes, I can't live like this anymore... not for my own sake but for
my son's."

     "If you are with me... you will always be hunted, always live in
fear."  The stranger warned.

     "But I will no longer have this... this disease in me, sucking away
at my soul.  You promise you will protect me and my son, that we will
never have to want for nothing."

     "And I will keep that promise for as long as I can.  I have also
promised you revenge."

     "Yes... that too."  Tara nodded.  "I have made up my mind.  I am
willing to pay your price."

     "Good..."  The stranger smiled.  Leaning over her he pressed his
lips against Tara's mouth, slipping his tongue inside.

Feeling a warm sweet liquid filling her mouth, Tara responded by opening
her mouth wider.  Her body, long fatigued felt alive for the first time
in years, a new fire burning in her veins.  She opened her blue eyes wide
while wrapping her arms around the stranger's neck.  When the kiss
ended, Tara was consumed by a new found strength... and hunger.

"Now for your revenge," The stranger said as he took Tara's hand in
his and led her away from the park to where a dark green car was waiting.

***************************************************



James was tired, so very tired but as his mother had not come home yet he
refused to let his eyes clothes.  In resent days he had seen a change in
his mother.  She seemed to have regained a fraction of the long lost hope
she once had in her eyes.

James, now seven did his best to keep the apartment clean.  Tonight
however his mother had scrounged for every drop of liquor she could get
her hands on, leaving a trail of trash and broken glass. It had taken him
several hours to clean up most of the mess.  He even cut his hands and
arms in several places in the process, scooping up the shards of glass
with his bare hands.

Wrapping his hands with thin toilet paper to stop the bleeding, James sat
on the sofa that severed as his bed, his eye frozen on the door, waiting
for his mother to return.

When the door did open, it was knocked off its hinges.  A tall man,
wearing a black suit, gazed inside with blue eyes, a look of panic on his
face.  Behind him was a strange man, his eyes blood red, a possessive arm
around James' mother.  Pushed violently forward, the frightened man fell
down on the floor face first.

     Jumping with a start, James moved off the sofa, hiding himself in
the cupboard.  Ever since his mother began her long decline James had
needed a sanctuary.  He had found one in the cupboard.  Whenever the
burden he carried became too much for him, he would retreat into the
darkness of the cupboard.  There was something strangely peaceful about
the small confined space.  The way it muffled the lights and sounds of
the city allowed James to escape inside himself where he was safe and
loved.  The only problem was that now being seven, James had almost
outgrown the tiny space.

     With the shouting starting James did not care how hard it was for
him to cram himself inside.  He did not want to see what was happening,
knowing it would be hard enough to deal with the emotions.  Only recently
had James realized he was not like most people, that his ability to sense
the emotions of others was not a talent all people had.  Behind the fake
smiles of the social workers James sensed the disgust they had toward his
mother.  During his mother's drunken stupors he could feel the immense
pit of despair her soul had fallen into.  Right now, even hidden in the
cupboard, James could feel the mixture of fear, hate, and joy coming for
the three adults in the room.

     "I'm sorry Tara.  I couldn't live a lie anymore.  I just
couldn't."  James heard, a voice he recognized but could not place.

     "That I could have lived with... I could live with you cheating on
me, but leaving us penniless, on the street! And AIDS, you gave me
AIDS!"

     "I have no excuses Tara.  I admit that... but to kill me for it?
You are a bloody vegetarian for goodness sakes!"

     "Time and sickness can change a person," Tara replied.

     "What do you want from me Tara... do you want my life?"

     "I want a little more than your life dear," James heard his mother
say before the screaming began.

     Having been to the hospital many times with his mother, James had
seen death.  Worse, he knew what a person felt when they passed away.
That was how James knew the man screaming in the room outside the
cupboard was dying.  Closing his eyes tight James tried to hide inside
himself, failing to block out the pain the man was feeling.  Hot tears
mixed with dust inside the cupboard, leaving smudges on his face.

     "See my dear... I've kept my second promise to you."  A deep voice
chuckled after the screams had died down.

     "Yes you have my love."  James heard his mother reply.

     "Now for you to keep yours," the deep voice man replied.

     "Of course.  Come out James, everything is ok now,"  Tara called
out.

     James didn't want to leave his sanctuary.  Somehow he knew that
whatever was out there would frighten him more than he already was.
Hiding his head between his legs, he hoped that he would wake up, this
all being nothing more than a nightmare.

    "Where is your son?"  The man asked, a hint of impatience in his
voice.

     "Don't worry Alex... I'm sure he is just in his usual hiding
place," Tara laughed with a nervous warble.  "Come out James... don't
be rude to our guest."

     James remained were he was, letting one of those repetitive songs
from Sesame Street run through his head, trying his hardest to block out
the outside world.  He was able to maintain that illusion until the door
to the cupboard was opened, his mother's blood covered face smiling down
at him.

     "Everything is alright James.  You don't need to hide yourself in
here."

     James, feeling an ice cold hand take hold of him, tried to free
himself.  Against his mother's iron grip however he was dragged out of
the cupboard, across the tile kitchen floor, into the living room until
he was laying next to the ghostly pale body of the blue eyed man, a chunk
of his neck missing.

     It was at that James finally realized who the person was, instantly
clinging his arms around the corpse.  "Daddy!"

     Grabbing her son by the collar of his shirt, Tara tried to pull him
away, all she ended up with was the torn rags of his shirt.  "James get
away from him... he's dirty!"

     "Let me handle this my love."  The deep voice stranger said.

     "Of course Alex."  Tara backed away.

     Going down onto his knees, Alex lowered himself until he was eye
level with James, looking into the young boy's blue eyes.  James could
feel the man's eyes on him as if they were burrowing into his mind.
Slowly, his grip on his father's body relax, his mind filled with a deep
fog.

     "That's it James... everything is going to be alright," Alex cooed
as he lifted the young man into his arms.

James, not able to shake loose of the man's stare, continued to gaze
into the man's eyes even as their brown color were replaced with a fire
red.

Alex nuzzled his nose against James's cheek.  "What beautiful eyes you
have."

     Tara, a look of worry growing on her face, walked in front of Alex
and tried to take James into her arms.  "You promised you would wait
Alex."

     Alex opened his mouth wide, showing off his sharp teeth to James.
"I know what I promised.  I also know that there is nothing you can do
to stop me from doing what I want."

     A tug of war started Tara trying to take her son away from Alex
while the tall red eyed man laughed.  "Give me back my son!"  Tara
demanded.

     "But he was the price you were willing to pay.  Did I not give you
back your health?  Did I not let you have your revenge?"

     "He's only seven years old.  I will not let you turn my son into a
monster."

     Alex kicked Tara down to the floor.  "If I am a monster, so are you
my love."

     "But not my son... not James," Tara insisted.

     Alex ripped of the flimsy sheets of toilet paper wrapped around
James' hands.  "Do not worry Tara... I do not plan on kissing your sweet
boy.  I am only going to taste."

     Taking James' hand, Alex squeezed it, opening the wounds afresh,
blood oozing out.  Using his long tongue Alex licked the small boy's
hand, his tongue coated red.

     "He's perfect..."  Alex sighed, letting his mouth savor the taste.

     At that moment a man wearing a heavy blue coat and police uniform
appeared in the hallway, gun drawn.  "Let the boy go!"

     "Now now officer... lets not do anything rash."  Alex chuckled,
lowering James down to the floor.

    "Now step away from the boy with your hands up."  The officer
demanded.

     "As you wish Mr. Policeman," Alex replied, walking several steps
back, revealing the dead body in the room.

     Seeing the blood drained corpse, the Policeman's face paled.  "Oh
shit!"

     As the officer walked backwards, he lowered his gun.  It was at that
moment that Tara, leaped from the floor, tackling the policeman down, her
fangs burying into the man's neck.  The man's screams soon turned to
gurgles, as his life was drained out of him, his throat filled with his
own blood.

      James, free from the gaze of the stranger, ran into his mother's
bedroom.  The moment he shut and locked the door, he felt a strong arm
warp around his waist while a hand covered his mouth.

     "Shhhhhhh little one.  You are safe now," A comforting baritone
voice whispered into the boy's ear.

     James could feel the coldness of the man's body.  While it
terrified him he also sensed that the man had indeed come to protect
him.  Relaxing, James let himself be lifted off his feet and taken to the
bedroom window where he was left on the fire escape. After the broad man
joined him, James followed the man up to the roof of the building, two
floors up.

     "What is your name little one?"  The man asked as he ripped the
metal frame of the stairway off, sending the top twenty feet of it
crashing to the street below.

     "James," the boy said at a near whisper.

     Looking back at the boy, the man had a smile on his face.  "James
aye?  I am Logan... Logan Worth.  I take it that you've had a rough
night?"

     James nodded his head silently. Now that he was not running, his
mind was starting to filter through all the chaos that had just
happened.  His father was now dead. His mother was now a monster.
Whatever dreams he had imagined in the safety of the cupboard of things
returning back to normal had been destroyed.  Not surprisingly, tears
were now rolling down his face.

     Feeling Logan wrap his cold arms around him, James cried against the
man's shoulders.  Soon he was lost in his own grief, not noticing as he
floating in Logan's arms down into a narrow alley.

************************************************************************

All six chapters of the prelude section are now up on the yahoo group.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/adultwritingworkshop/