Object x, p.1
Object X, page 1
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Copyright © 2022 Daniel Dean - All Rights Reserved
*****
Object X
Chapter One
“Wake up.”
Wendy wanted no part of whatever Sam was up to. She didn't know what time it was, but as long as her alarm remained silent, then she planned to keep her eyes closed and savor every valuable minute of sleep before needing to get out of bed and start her day.
“Wake up!” Sam grunted once more, shaking her shoulder.
She attempted to bury herself into the mattress. Maybe she could escape from him somehow? Perhaps she could wish him away with her mind? Eight years of marriage and Sam seriously made the mistake of interfering with her sleep? Was he crazy? She wasn't a morning person whatsoever! Her husband knew that!
“I know you're awake! Get up!”
Jesus Christ himself couldn't move her from her stomach. The only person who could get her out of bed at this hour slept down the hallway, and she wouldn't budge unless she heard Tommy shout her name. Sadly, and she would never admit this to Sam—although she guessed that he'd always known—but their son outranked Sam on her list of priorities.
And then she felt like punching him right in the nose.
“Oh my God, I'm so gonna kill you,” she moaned in a tired haze as Sam lifted her out of bed and carried her toward the door.
She enjoyed having a fit husband when it came to tasks like getting yardwork done and marathon bouts of sex during nights when Tommy slept over at her parents' house. Unfortunately, at this very moment, she experienced a big case of buyer's remorse for not marrying a lazy man who never hit the gym. At least he wouldn't be able to effortlessly hold her if she had.
She remembered when Sam carried her through the front door of their house as a joke after they purchased this place together eight years ago. It was fun and exciting. It reinforced how lucky she was to share a lifelong vow with such an incredible man. It was a joy far different from what her exhausted mind dealt with this Thursday morning.
Her annoyance quickly morphed into seething fury after she parted her heavy eyelids to not be met by even a faint hint of light leaking in through the windows. It was even earlier than she'd imagined! It had to be! It was never this dark outside when she stirred awake!
She involuntarily made her way down the hallway in the arms of the man she supposedly loved. A quick peek up at his dark facial scruff annoyed her just like it did most mornings. He always rolled out of bed so handsome with his chiseled chin and thick brown hair. Meanwhile, she hated how she looked most mornings when she first glanced in the bathroom mirror. It was one of life's cruel realities that every man took for granted.
Jamming a steak knife into his jugular wouldn't count as murder, would it? But she was sleep deprived! And bothered by how much better-looking he was than her in the mornings! The jury has found the accused innocent of all charges as a result of having her beauty sleep interrupted. Hurrah! Rightfully exonerated!
He set her down in a chair at the kitchen table. The rough wooden seat was a far cry from the soft mattress that she craved, but her rage slowly dissipated as her body gradually adjusted to her unfortunate circumstances. Honestly, she could never stay mad at him for long. She was a mother, after all. Tommy's bed-wetting problem last year had resulted in her being jarred out of her sleep in the middle of the night more times than she could count, but she'd never gotten upset with her son. Sam might get the cold shoulder for the next few minutes, but she would eventually forgive him. It's just how she was.
He moved in front of her, hunching down to lower his six-foot-one frame to her level. Their faces were parallel to each other. “You see me, right?”
She stared at him, dumbfounded. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the kitchen light.
“I look the same, right? This is actually happening? It's not a dream?”
Once again, she couldn't comprehend what she was hearing. This was what couldn't wait until her alarm went off? This!?
“Wendy, answer me.”
“Should I kill you now or kill you later?” she asked, finding herself becoming irked once again in a hurry.
He took a quick peek at himself before turning his attention back to her. “Tell me what you see.”
“A soon-to-be single man,” she answered.
He lacked his typical sense of humor. He was different. More serious. “This isn't a joke. Describe what you see.”
“You look the same as you always do,” she entertained his nonsense while noting his above-average looks in the facial and hair department. Her eyes soon lowered to observe the rest of him. “White t-shirt, black basketball shorts, and you're barefoot. Happy? Can I go back to bed now?”
“Blonde hair and blue eyes,” he said to her before his eyes followed a similar path. “A pink t-shirt and baby blue pajama bottoms. I'm right about all of that, correct?”
So many things were wrong about what had just come out of his mouth. The Sam she knew would make a comment involving her rather impressive bust. He would remark about her plump butt that he always had a hard time keeping his hands off of when mauling her in the kitchen as she prepared breakfast. Her funny, personable, and sexually insatiable husband rarely showcased his serious side, but he appeared to be all business at the moment for reasons she still couldn't understand.
She nodded, growing intrigued rather than irritated.
He placed his hands on her shoulders and stared directly into her eyes. “We're not dreaming. We've established that. I'm also fairly positive that I haven't lost my mind. So, I want you to come outside with me and please explain what in the world is going on.”
She followed him curiously to the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. The bright green display on the microwave showed six o'clock, verifying her instinct that she was awake over an hour earlier than she should be. He opened the door, allowing her to step outside onto the deck before she followed him down the two stairs and into their backyard, damp grass sliding between her naked toes as she walked. The goosebumps on her arms were just noticeable enough to make her regret not grabbing a sweatshirt on this surprisingly chilly morning. Sam, on the other hand, didn't appear to care about the weather, because he walked with a determined strut in his stride.
Their backyard was long and spacious with tall pine trees creating a natural barrier at the rear of their property. A white fence ran along the right side courtesy of their neighbors, while the left side allowed them to look into the backyards of the next five houses down the street. Sam had talked about potentially building a fence around the rest of their property if they in fact decided to surprise Tommy with a pool for his upcoming seventh birthday. That was still a big if, though.
They owned a middle-class house in an upper-class neighborhood. Sam was a software engineer and she made her living as an insurance agent. They did well. Not phenomenal, but good enough to pay their bills and have some money left over to add to their savings at the end of every month. They were above-ground pool kind of people. They were happy with what they had and rarely desired more.
She credited their lack of stress for why they were so happy together. They weren't the type of couple who spent money they didn't have. They lived within their means, loved each other, and never worried about what their friends and neighbors were up to. They were simple folks in a complex world.
Sam retrieved a black flashlight from his pocket as they continued their walk in the direction of the pine trees.
“Where are we going?”
He didn't respond. The beautiful house located directly behind them—built on the edge of a lake with incredible views—had been vacant for the past several months. That was where the rich people lived. Normal families like themselves didn't own such sprawling manors, but they'd also never contemplated taking a break in their relationship. Money obviously couldn't save whatever happened to their mysterious and private former neighbors.
And that was where they seemed to be headed. Had Sam seen something odd take place at the house behind them? Pine trees or not, one could still see lights if the typically dark house was illuminated for some reason, but she wasn't sure how any of this involved them. They had no business peeking inside an empty house. They should just mind their own business.
She suddenly stopped.
Sam no longer walked forward. Instead, he stopped and turned to look back at her as he clicked his flashlight on and pointed it at the ground. It was dark, but not so dark that she was completely blind without a light. Something felt strange, though. She couldn't credit it to the time of day or her husband's peculiar mood either. It was something foreign to her. Something unexplainable.
“Do you see it?”
She looked around, unable to locate the source of her disquietude without a light to aid her eyes. “Do I see what?”
“You feel it, don't you?”
It wasn't like Sam to be this way. He was a straightforward guy. He never played games with her. So, why did he hint at something be ing wrong without simply telling her?
“What am I supposed to feel?” she asked. She wasn't ready to admit that she felt anything. It was far more likely that her concern came from a combination of Sam's strange demeanor and her severe lack of coffee at this ungodly hour.
“I don't know how to explain it,” he said to her. “I felt it before I saw it. It's something different. Something indescribable. It's uncomfortable but simultaneously relaxing. It's...beautiful.”
She was more confused than ever. “Beautiful?”
He turned and shined the light in the direction of the pine trees.
She stepped forward without stopping to first think her actions through. She needed to confirm the manner in which her deceitful eyes tried to fool her mind. Could it be possible that she was still in bed? Could this all be a dream? Anything, and she meant absolutely anything, made more sense than this being real.
He joined her as their naked feet brushed past fallen pine needles and pine cones while they passed the first two rows of pine trees. They quickly came to a halt in a small clearing that had always been ordinary in the past. It was just another part of their backyard that needed to be cut with the lawnmower. That was always the extent of why they concerned themselves with where they stood.
Until now.
“It's stronger now, isn't it? The feeling?”
She nodded in agreement, unable to tear her eyes away from what his flashlight continued to illuminate. Her heart pounded but it didn't have anything to do with nerves or excitement. She felt something in the air. Something radiated from what they both stared at. It wasn't beautiful, though. Beauty came from inspiring paintings and innocent children playing together in a bliss exclusive to insouciant youngsters. This, contrary to beauty, troubled her.
“What is it?” she asked.
Much like his wife, Sam's eyes remained transfixed ahead. “I don't know.”
Seven feet tall, two feet across, and only a few inches thick: the black object hovered slightly off the ground without explanation as to how. It was perfectly rectangular. No marks, no scratches, and no flaws in its design. The black was solid throughout. It looked like a big piece of black steel—a big piece of black steel that had no right belonging anywhere in their backyard.
“Where did it come from?”
“I don't know,” he answered calmly yet again.
“How is it floating in the air?”
“I've been trying to figure that out for the past forty-five minutes,” Sam said. “I finally decided to wake you up so you can see it too. That way I know I'm not seeing things.”
“Did you touch it?”
He nodded.
She didn't like that. This didn't feel like a prank from one of the neighborhood kids. She also wasn't under the impression that someone could order a giant rectangular-shaped object which levitated off the ground on the internet. For the very first time in her life, she felt as if she stood in the presence of something supernatural. It wasn't the visual element that disturbed her the most. She simply couldn't shake what she felt in her stomach. This thing disturbed her.
“We should call the police,” she said.
Wendy felt a hand on her shoulder.
She turned her head to find Sam's hand on her while his eyes remained on the object in front of them. She didn't need him to part his lips to receive his message loud and clear. He didn't want to bring the cops into this. Why? She didn't know for sure, but she was certain of his views involving the authorities.
“Why did you come out here in the first place?” she asked, confused regarding his decision to explore the backyard during the time that he usually slept. “You couldn't have seen this thing from the house. It's too dark.”
His hand dropped from her shoulder and found his side. “I thought I saw something. Nothing noticeable, but something. A faint glow...almost. I felt it when I came outside, though. Almost immediately. It pulled me to it.”
Why did he speak this way? Since when did her husband insinuate that inanimate objects could possess human qualities? He was an action movie guy. He was a husband who spent his Sunday afternoons drinking beer and watching football. But at this very moment, she failed to recognize the voice of the guy she listened to. He seemed...different.
“Let's go back to bed.”
Whatever this was hypnotized him. He couldn't look away from it. “You go. I'm going to stay out here a little longer.”
“To do what?” she questioned, confused by what he found so alluring. “Listen, let's go back to bed and discuss this over breakfast. We—”
He stepped forward, causing her to cut off her attempt to talk some sense into him. It wasn't like Sam to become obsessed. He never got too high or sank too low. He was a level-headed man who she always relied on to be her rock even in the most chaotic storm, but he couldn't have appeared less interested in her. He was focused on one thing and one thing only.
Whatever this black object was.
Chapter Two
The Morning Before.
“Fuck, you look so sexy this morning.”
She rolled her eyes in front of the stove as she stirred a big pan full of scrambled eggs with a spatula. How many times had they played this game? And how would she feel if this attention ever vanished? Sam always entered the kitchen in the mornings full of outlandish compliments as she prepared breakfast, he would maul her while she pretended to be annoyed by her physically imposing husband's big hands all over her body, and he wouldn't stop until Tommy eventually plopped his little butt down in his seat at the table to spend some quality time with his own personal Superman before school. Tommy may have adored her, but he was a daddy's boy at heart.
He pressed his groin against her backside as his hands quickly found her breasts. It didn't take long before his lips covered her neck in kisses.
“Tommy will be down here any minute!” she giggled. “And you almost got us caught once this week already!”
The masculine fingers on her butt sank into her flesh through her silk bathrobe, savoring the figure that she worked so hard to maintain before greeting that same plump ass with a firm smack. She didn't jump. She didn't so much as flinch. She knew exactly how crazy Sam was about her, and she would be more shocked than anything to not find herself pinned against either the stove or the kitchen counter on any particular morning. Moments like these made life worth living.
“Maybe it's time for that kid to see the proper way to treat a lady?”
“Oh my God, he's not even seven yet!” she laughed at his obvious joke before turning her neck to meet his lips with her own. The growing bulge pressed against her butt confirmed what she already knew.
Their close call on Monday kept her alert for the sound of Tommy's footsteps from his bedroom directly above the kitchen. Apparently, after almost a week of no action whatsoever, Sam's ears ceased working. His common sense seemed to disappear along with the rest of his senses as well. Because three days ago, while she was busy making pancakes for the men in her life, Sam decided that it would be a good idea to bend her over the kitchen counter and give her an unexpected surprise before she even had her coffee.
And she'd almost let him have his way with her only seconds before hearing Tommy trot down the hallway.
Wendy pushed him away with a playful grin. Her line of sight swiftly lowered to the lump in the front of his athletic shorts. “You better do something with that thing.”
“Oh, I have a few ideas of what to do with it.”
“No, put it away!” she laughed, wiggling out of his hold before he could smoother her again.
They both froze thanks to the rumble from above. She credited his look of disappointment to his masculine urges, but the twinkle in his eye to his unbridled obsession with the miniature version of himself who would be joining them momentarily. At the end of the day, he was the world's greatest dad, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
“That kid's lucky I love him so much,” he grunted.
She could only smile. How many women would kill to be in her shoes? “Hold out until tonight, okay, big guy?”
“You heard her, everyone! That's a verbal contract!”
“I, Wendy Ellison, hereby swear to do my wifely duties tonight despite how much I realllllllly don't want to,” she smirked at him, playful as ever.
