User:TheAuthor Wife

This is my first story aimed at Creepypasta. Please leave an informed review if you can.

[Part 1]

Jenna sat at her sewing machine, headphones blaring while the running needle vibrated the entire table, puncturing the thick leather again and again. Four hours left to go until it was time to clock out, four hours more of mind numbing work with nothing but Avenged Sevenfold to fill her emptying mind. The thought brought a heaving sigh from chapped lips. The machine clicked as it tied off the thread on the current glove she was working on. Her foot lifted from the peddle the would power the heavy equipment, and she took the moment to brush away the black, damaged hair that had escaped from the loose ponytail to tickle her face as she concentrated. Leaning back in the none too comfortable chair, her spine pressed hard against the firm back. She winced as she felt the "pop pop pop" that reverberated the entire way up her back. Another sigh and she turned around, idly glancing at each of her co-workers. The inspectors to her left were caught up in their own duties, picking away at the seams she had already finished in order to hand them back to her as repairs. Her mind delved into the dark shadows of her anger and depression, conjuring thoughts of harm and despair on the two women, especially the eldest -and most picky- Beatrice. A smirk played at her lips and before she could turn away, the woman looked up and caught her eye. "What's so funny, Jenna?" she called with a grin, the oh-so-annoying voice carrying across the concrete to scrape at Jenna's eardrums. The woman, at least 60, was kind in a long-lost grandmother sort of way, and so always had Jenna's bad side. She had a bad habit of sticking her nose where it didn't belong and offering outdated advice where it wasn't wanted. But, Jenna needed the job, and couldn't afford conflict. "Oh, just thinking about this weekend. My husband and I are going out for a while." Beatrice's grin grew wider. "Oh, how sweet. I remember when Henry and I would take a day for ourselves. We'd roam across the country, taking in the sights of Autumn. That was Henry's favorite season, you know..." Jenna nodded and looked away, back to her box of gloves and shoved her headphones back in place to drown out the old bat's nostalgia. Four hours...Finally, the bell had rang and she was on her way home. Jenna's back ached and her fingers were cramped. The bad weather had begun, which was an unfortunate delay on her hour drive home. Her truck had poor tread and was top heavy. That, coupled with cold weather, wet roads, and winding curves made her travel slow and cautious. The radio blared the local rock station, and while the screaming vocals and heavy bass were usually enough to calm her never-ceasing mind, the station chose Wednesdays to play local bands, which of course, she was not familiar with and could not sing along to. So, she would have to take this lengthy drive with a mind that was moving faster than the wheels of 2001 Ford f-150 gas guzzler. As always, when she had time to think, she delved into that shadows for the second time that day. While that was becoming a normal for Jenna, she hated it. It could have been controlled, had she had her medication. Schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, among other mental disabilities that hindered her social and emotional interactions were apparently not severe enough to allot her insurance so that she could stay on the life-altering medications that she had come to rely on for the last two years. These musings only succeeded in dampening Jenna's mood moreso, and farther into the shadowed recesses of her thoughts did she go, hands clamped tightly to the cracked and peeling steering wheel. Scenarios of the deaths of herself and her husband played once, twice, and Jenna fought to keep the bile that rose in her throat, the quickening of her pulse, and the shallowed breathing that always followed that particular path of thinking. Instead, she returned to the realistic. Her best friend was having a baby. Jenna fought both the howling wind and the howling envy, both with much effort. She was happy for Angela, but the woman already had two children, a boy and girl, while Jenna, who so desperately wanted her own child to raise and love, was left barren. Weekly, she got together with Angie to do the one thing she hated most - baby shopping. Clothes, toys, books, carseats, beddings, room furnishings. But, if anything, Jenna was loyal, and though she was hideously jealous, she loved her friend of 10 years. So, she bared the pain silently, not wanting to further stress the woman she called sister. Still, it was taking a toll on her psyche, and her marriage. She knew Benjamin, her faithful and devoted husband, did not blame her for her inability to carry, but she still felt like less of a woman for not being able to provide him with the family they both desperately craved. This brought her into a deeper depression, and with it, a self-hatred the likes of which she had only known once before, when she had been raped, the same rape that had left her with the current problem she and her husband now faced. Jenna's face went white and her knuckles cramped with the force she exerted on the wheel, another panic attack fighting its way to the surface. With inhuman calm, she again pushed it down. She found herself getting better at winning that small, daily battle. Still, she was glutton for punishment and traveled the thought path that nearly left her gasping for breath. It had been 21 years ago, and she felt weak for allowing the bastard to retain this level of control over mind and body. He took much more than her virginity that night, two days after her fifth birthday. He took her sense of self-worth, her chance at a normal sex life, hell, a normal life at all. He took a part of her mind, leaving this broken, distorted monster she faced now. And the reason she most hated him, he took her children, children that she would never have because of his cruel violations of her tiny body. Jacob, a man who was supposed to have been a family friend, had been babysitting her and her baby sister. Her sister had to go to the hospital because of the sudden onset of a high fever, leaving her alone with the man she called uncle. As a child raised to trust, she had crawled into bed with him at 2:00am after having a nightmare. Little had she known that the nightmare had yet to begin. He would never face charges, his military employers saying that should her parents attempt to press charges, they would forever ruin young Jenna's life by spreading the tale that she, a five year old child, had thrown herself to the 37 year old man. She never blamed her parents, but had a life-long, deep seated hatred of that particular branch of military, the Navy. Lightening lit up the cloudy sky, momentarily blinding her before the sudden crash shook the truck windows and deafened her. Jenna had never been afraid of storms, and prided herself on her driving skills, but her distraction and black thoughts left her open. She jerked the wheel in her surprise, the truck darting off the side of the road and sliding into a dry ditch. The jostling of the vehicle was enough to wake her from her misery and fear. "Shit!" she screamed, fighting for control. Thankfully, there was no mud to be had as the rain had not yet started, and she was able to easily return to the road. Surveying her surroundings, she realized she had driven well past her turn, and cursed again, looking for a road to turn around on. The wind was picking up and her windshield was suddenly a waterfall of rain. Quickly, she flipped on her wipers, and slammed on her brakes a small dirt road came into view. Carefully, she turned in, checking her mirrors for oncoming traffic. Doing so, she noticed in the pouring rain that her tailgate had been opened and her spare was about to fall out. Another curse and steadying breath, preparing herself for ice cold shower she was about to receive, she swung open the creaking door and sprinted for the back, shoving with what little strength she had left to push the tire back in and slam the tailgate. Another lightening flash and she was in the cab once more, shivering and soaked. Her hand shaking violently, she flipped on the heat and sat as the warm air quickly surrounded her. Silence. With a groan, she realized the rock station was out and hit the seek button, knowing that out here, the only stations she would receive were country. That would work, anything but silence. Finally, she could stop shaking and the country twang that played through the crackling speakers was oddly comforting in her morose mindset. A yawn followed and she put the truck in drive, beginning to pull on to the highway. The sudden flash of lightening and rumble of thunder distracted her to oncoming traffic, and Jenna only saw the massive, double-trailer semi as it connected with her door at full speed. [Part 2]

Benjamin sat in the hospital waiting room, his wife of 3 years currently in surgery. He had been there for six hours, his eyes finally dry after crying non-stop. Her mother, Lynn, sat next to her, her own husband, Jenna's step-father Dustin, held her as she sobbed. The idle, exhausted thought came to him that women must have an extra reserve for tears. Jenna's father was downstairs in the cafeteria grabbing everyone coffee with her younger sister, Geanna. The doctors had only told them that she was fatally injured, the right side of her body all but destroyed. She was bleeding internally and her lung has collapsed. They were working on her, had been working on her, now. The doctor had not talked to him in 2 hours.Benjamin gave a shaky sigh, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees as he went through the pictures on his phone. Jenna, blonde, on the day they started dating, five years ago. Jenna, brunette, on their wedding day. Jenna, holding up a onsie that read "I <3 Daddy" after they found out she was pregnant. Jenna two months later on their day out, trying to smile as she passed a woman and child. That had been 3 weeks after the miscarriage. He passed several more, a few nude ones that he had promised to delete but had never gotten around to. Several edited pictures, done on a cheap program with emoticons and fancy lettering. More than he could count of ones that she had taken of the two of them, always smiling. Finally, he came to the most recent of her, taken last night just before bed. Her hair was in a wet bun, having just come out of a shower. Her pale skin was speckled with goosebumps, the space heater behind her glowing red. She was wrapped from the waist down in the blanket, giving a trembling smile. One of her panic attacks had been set off by a mock-fight that had turned into a round of tickling. He was used to this, it happened often, but he was always blown away by her strength and beauty. He remembered again what had happened after snapping the picture, and choked back a sob, thinking of her broken and bleeding in the hospital room. Lynn moved to comfort him, patting his back in an awkward but loving way. They had never gotten along, the only thing in common being Jenna. But somehow, in the light of tragedy and fear for the one thing that they both loved most, they were united in their suffering in fear. He turned, a single tear slipping from swollen eyes and offered a tremulous smile. Just before she moved to hug him, the doctor stepped into the room. The man had not had the decency to change from his coat, the surgical mask around his neck and his face fairly dripping with sweat. His eyes were not downcast and he looked confident. The confidence was underminded, however, when he spoke, his voice quiet and broken. "Mr. Sorrel, Mrs. Williamson.. She was too injured. Her body... we couldn't do anymore. I'm sorry."Lynn let out a strangled sob, sinking from the chair to her knees, followed by Dustin. She was not quiet in her grief, her keening wails echoing through the room, her husband saying nothing, only holding her, though his fists were bound tightly, skin stretched taught of his knuckles. Jenna's father, Jack entered then, and knew immediately, sinking to the chair as the coffee fell to soak the carpet. The doctor moved to his side, passing Benjamin was the slightest touch on his shoulder. Benjamin himself said nothing, didn't move, didn't cry. His eyes found their way to the double doors before him though, and bored their way to where his dead wife lay. He imagined her, crumpled in a blood-soaked heap, eyes closed and breath still. The image brought vomit rolling from his stomach and he threw up, not bothering to restrain it. Finally, the tears came, the anguish spilling out into a pool at his feet. His voice was already raw from the hours of tears, but somehow he found it again, to scream. His feet were steady when she stood, pacing as he ripped at his hair, bending over to pound on his knees in fury and grief. Knowing there was nothing to be done, the doctor left, exiting through the doors which he had come. Numb and silent, Benjamin retained his steady stare on the doors, even as Lynn continued to sob beside him. Abruptly, he stood and strode through he doors, approaching the nurses' station. With eyes grey with fury and pain, a voice that was devoid of emotion, though somehow conveyed how his soul was shattered, he spoke to the women. " I want to see her." With questioning glances, they talked amongst themselves for naught but a minute before he spoke again. "Now." Reluctantly, they agreed, and led them to the room they had moved Jenna's body to, now clean. "I want to be alone with my wife." He whispered, his back to the women. "Sir, I don't think that is a good ide--" "Get the hell out.. please." he whispered in reply, staring at her corpse. Only when the door clicked shut behind him did he crawl in to bed beside his beautiful, dead wife, sobbing against her still chest. Only when he was alone, truly alone, did he allow himself to miss her.

A week had passed and the funeral was today. Benjamin carried himself through the motions, brushing his teeth and hair, finding the only pair of nice pants he had and pulling on Jenna's favorite shirt of his, a red pullover that he had worn on the day they had met. Though it was ratty and stained, it retained her scent and comforted him in an otherwise lightless world. She had worn it often to bed, not that it had ever stayed on long. In no time, he was dressed and waited for his brother Taylor to pick him up. Taylor and Jenna had never met in person, but had become close friends over the phone and internet, leaving Taylor with a broken heart when he heard of her death from their mother. He had flown from Massachusetts to be at the funeral.Benjamin was sitting on the bed, tears slowly and silently pouring from his eyes as he stared listlessly at Jenna's desk, her papers still scattered, various poems and artwork littering the wood. The room was silent, save for the occasional sniffle and the gentle whir of the fans. It was brightly lit, the man having left the curtain open to let in the sunlight. Oddly, though his wife was morose, the sunlight, warm on her pale skin, seemed to brighten her mood on even the worst of days. Hoping to gain the same comfort on this day, it remained open, with the window cracked to let in the slight April breeze. Lost in his thoughts of sorrow and grief, he would never have noticed the shadow, had he not turned to find the tissues on Jenna's nightstand. But notice it he did, and he glanced up with a heavy sigh. When his eyes beheld the sight before him, he froze, his breath coming in shallow gasps that had to claw their way from his lungs. His normally red face was stark white, faced with the figure before him. "Jenna..?" he squeaked. He was dreaming, he told himself, a terrible, wonderful dream. She nodded, more beautiful than he had ever seen her. Her normally scarred skin was flawless, and natural brown hair cascaded in waves down to the small of her back. She was wearing her favorite dress, the blue ballgown that so reminded her of her princesses of childhood. When he said nothing else, she smiled wide, painted red lips a deep contrast to ivory teeth. Arms extended for an embrace, she approached him, her movements slow and graceful, much like the elves they so often dreamed about together, idle fantasies shared in the privacy of their room. Her gray eyes glistened with tears when he did not move, and she lowered her arms, smile dampening but remaining. Bending low so that her face met his, she spotted the tear that had escaped him, marking his cheek as it traveled to his chin. Her brow furrowed in concern and she caught it with the tip of her finger, staring as if the liquid were knew to her. When she met his eyes again, they were closed, tears flowing freely. Noticing her stillness, he looked at her and let out a sob, reaching for her still hand and placed it against his face. "Jenna, please tell me I'm dead." The woman smiled sadly, before leaning forward for a kiss. Benjamin sighed as her lips met his, their cool smoothness a refreshing feeling to the chapped, cracking feeling his own held. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling her close. Everything was right in the world again, except that peculiar taste that marred his tongue. With frightening recognition, he realized what it was; blood. Releasing her lips and tongue, he pulled back, beginning to tremble. The face that greeted him was not the one of ethereal beauty that he had just held. Instead was the blood-soaked face of his wife, her right cheek and jaw shattered, split to reveal bone and flesh. Her eyes were swollen shut and her mouth partially open, showing off broken, sharp teeth. Her dress was replaced by the same jeans and sweatshirt she had died in, ripped open by the EMTs. Her right arm was mangled, and her left covered in wires and tubes. Benjamin screamed, flailing backwards. "Jesus fucking Christ!" Jenna's head, or what was left of it, tilted in response. He began to hyperventilate, unable to tear his gaze away from his dead wife. Jenna's lips began to move, and her words were hard to understand without the actions that followed to explain. "I can be beautiful again. I can fix myself." she said, and with a needle and thread that had come from seemingly no where, she began to sew the jagged cuts across her face. "No! Stop! Jesus..!" he cried, falling off of the bed. He was sobbing, his back shaking with the force of his cries. "Benny!" screamed his brother who had entered upon hearing Benjamin's screams. Taylor ran around the unfamiliar home until he found his brother's bedroom. It wasn't hard to locate his sibling, the bed shaking with Benjamin still on the floor beside it. "Ben.. Hey man, I'm here." he said softly. "No! Fucking no!" came the reply."Dude.. we have to go. Jenna..Jenna's family is waiting for us." "Jenna.. Jesus.. Taylor, I saw her! I fucking saw her!" He trailed off into unintelligible sobs then, and Taylor moved to his side, helping him to sit up before looking him over. "Jeez man! You split your damn lip wide open!" Leaping up, he moved to the master bathroom, looking for cloths and running the hot water. Benjamin felt his lip, the sudden pain shocking him from his terror. "Blood. Uh. Yeah, I did." 'Maybe that's what brought on the..nightmare..' he thought to himself. He pulled himself up, steadying his dizzy head as he sat while Taylor helped him to clean his lip. When they were finished, they readied to leave. "Hey, Ben. What do you mean, you saw her?" Taylor asked in quiet confusion, worry marring his features."Hmm? No. Nothing. Just a nightmare."

[Part 3]

Two weeks after the funeral, and life was returning to physical normality. Benjamin had returned to work, but his production was poor, his sleep deprived. He could not bring himself to go into their bedroom. Too many memories, he told himself, though he knew it was because of that terrible dream. He still couldn't figure it out. He hadn't fallen asleep, or so he thought. Perhaps though, that was why Taylor had found him on the floor. He had bitten his lip, he realized on closer examination. Still, even with logic telling him of the truth, he couldn't shake the fear that held him from his wife's bed.Exhausted and broken, Benjamin drove home from his work, forced to take the same route that Jenna had. Tonight was clear, the night sky a dark blue and speckled with stars. A full moon lit the road, along with his brights. He was less than a mile from where she had died. Another car passed and he dimmed his headlights. His breath held and tears threatening, he passed where she had wrecked. And she was there. Benjamin slammed on his breaks, his chest slamming against the steering wheel as he swerved off of the road. Unsure of what he had seen, he checked his rear view. Yes, she was there, along with an undamaged truck. She was dripping wet, and struggling with a tire. Benjamin leapt from the borrowed vehicle and ran to her. "Jenna!" he screamed into the night. She looked at him, confused at first."Ben? How the fuck did you get here? Never mind, just help me with this damn tire. I'm cold, and wet, and the rain could start again any second." She began pushing on the tire and he moved to help her. "Jenna.. it isn't raining." "Of course it is! That's why I missed my damn turn! Will you PLEASE help me with this thing, baby? I'm exhausted!" Benjamin's heart constricted at her words, but he leaned in to help anyway. When he tried to make contact with the tire though, his hands passed through, and Jenna seemed to shove it back into the truck herself. "Thank you." she said, smiling at the now trembling man. When she leaned in for a kiss, he stumbled backwards into the road. "N-no. You're dead. You're fucking DEAD, Jenna!" She drew herself up, hurt at his refusal and annoyed at his scream. "What in the HELL are you talking about, Benjamin? I'm right-- LOOK OUT!" she screamed, pointing. The lights flared behind him, illuminating the road before him, minus his shadow. It had no effect on Jenna, he noticed, just before the horn blared and the car swerved, clipping his left side enough to send him spinning in to the ditch. He was only out for a moment, laying in the pine needles. His arm was broken, and his knee was at least badly bruised, a deep gash in his forhead spilling blood into his eyes. Through his blurred vision, he saw the figure approach, and realized with a terrified, agonized groan that it was the same dead wife that was the point of his last, terrible nightmare. "I'll fix you.." she mumbled, a needle in her hand. Benjamin lost consciousness---He awoke in the hospital, his head bandaged, hooked into an IV with his arm in a sling, his knee in a brace. Taylor slept to his right in the recliner. When he tried to move, he gasped, the pain startling. The sound woke his brother with a start. "What?! .. Oh Jesus, Benny. You're awake." Benjamin looked at his brother, eyes wild. "What..happened?" he croaked, his voice hoarse with lack of use, his throat dry. "You fucking idiot. I get that you're hurting, but dammit, I don't want to lose you too!" Benjamin looked on in confusion, not following. Had no one seen Jenna? She was right above him! Taylor sighed, recognizing Ben's lack of understanding that showed so plainly on his bruised face. "Man, you ran out into the fucking highway next to where she died. Got hit by a car. You were lucky the old bat swerved, or you'd be dead."Benjamin remembered with sudden clarity. "No! Jesus, Tay, Jenna was there! She was right there! I was helping her with her tire, but she didn't know.. she didn't know! I freaked when she tried to kiss me and.." His voice trailed off with Taylor's sudden look of concern and fear."Benjamin.. Jenna's dead. You know that. She couldn't have been there.. Maybe.. Maybe you should see someone. A grief counselor or something.. Man.." Ben's face reddened. "NO! I saw her. She was there. Taylor, you've gotta believe me." nearing on hysteria, Ben shifted and cried out in pain, making Taylor jump up. "Alright, alright. At least let me go get you some pain pills." Benjamin nodded, fighting tears as Taylor left, and his eyes settled on the blank wall before him. It was sudden, no beautiful apparition, nothing. Jenna's dead style appeared before him, needle in hand. "I'll fix you.." Benjamin screamed when burning pain spiked through his arm before passing out.Again, he awoke, hours later, this time with both Taylor and an orderly attending him. They were talking in hushed tones while he 'slept'. But he was awake now, and he wanted answers."What happened?" he said, point blank. Taylor looked over to the nurse, fear registering plainly on his face. The woman cleared her throat, as a teacher with a child, and rose to stand beside his bed. "You ripped your IV out, Mr. Sorrels. I hope you realize how dangerous that is, especially with your already weakened immune system. Now, we all realize you've recently suffered a lot of trauma, and the doctor has ordered visits by the resident psychiatrist. She will be here tomorrow morning at 10." Benjamin looked at his arm, his breath quickening. "I didn't do this. I didn't. It was Jenna. It was Jenna. It was Jenna." He repeated himself over and over before Taylor interjected. "Ben, Jenna is dead. She was buried two weeks ago. She's dead, bro.""NO! SHE DID THIS." Ben screamed, his heart rate spiking when he sat up in bed. Never had he been so afraid. He wasn't crazy, he wasn't insane. He knew it. He knew that his sanity was fine. What he didn't know was why his dead wife was haunting him, and apparently trying to kill him. Benjamin broke out in sobs as the nurse, unnoticed, injected a syringe of sedative into the new IV. Slowly, sleep overcame him.

Part 4]Nearly two months later, Benjamin was enrolled in weekly counseling. He was unable to work, and was fighting for short-term disability until his arm was usable. He had been institutionalized, per the request of his shrink, but after a week and a half, he convinced them that he was fine. Which he was.But now, nightly he received visits from Jenna. And daily, he fought to cover the various bruises, burns, and gashes that she left behind. She always slept next to him, beautiful and graceful until right before he succumbed to sleep. He had tried to delay, even not sleep, though that lasted for 9 days before he finally caved, plagued with horrible nightmares, and waking up with a burn that covered his palm. Benjamin, though still scarred over her death, and deeply in love with her, was ready to rid himself of his deceased spouse.This thought, this motivation, spurred him to seek the priest of his childhood. Benjamin had been raised Catholic, though had left the church when he had met Jenna. Still, he remembered Father Reemus, and hoped that he lived. He had passed the Kentucky Tennessee border a little over an hour ago, and Jenna sat next to him. "Where are we going, baby?" she asked."To see an old friend." came his somber reply."Have I met him?" "No.""Who is he?""Father Reemus. A priest from my old church." What good would it be to lie to her? And besides, the Father couldn't be hurt by her. He was a religious man."A priest? Why..?" "Because.. Jesus, Jenna. I love you. I love you so much. I miss you." he started sobbing, banging against the steering wheel. Was this really necessary? She had never really hurt him. The accident had been his own fault. She wasn't doing much harm, after all."You won't get rid of me, you know." she said, her voice darkening. This broke him of his sobs. She had never acknowledged her state of.. death. "Why do you say that, Jenna?"She leaned towards him, her body morphing in to that of her death, in all of its morbid glory. Her broken mouth just inches from his ear, she replied with a sadistic whisper. "Because I'm in your fucking mind, Baby.." And with that thought, she was gone. Ben tightened his grip on the wheel. No, he had to go, had to do his. A ghost, or demon, whatever his wife had become, would say anything to deter him. Exiting the highway, her took the old route to the man's house, and thankfully, recognized the car in the driveway. With shaking hands, he approached the house and rang the bell. Reemus answered, thankfully. "Benjamin? Benjamin Sorrels?" Ben nodded grimly. "My boy! You've grown!" Ben released a strained chuckle. "Sir, I believe you shrank." The man nodded thoughtfully. "What brings you here? Weren't you living in Texas? Oh! Come in, boy!" Ben stepped through, his head suddenly pounding as he entered the holy man's quarters. Was she really in his mind? Would this work? Doubts flickered, and he realized the only way he would know is by going through with it. Ignoring the priest's question, he sighed and began. "Sir, this isn't a social call. I need your help. Your.. religious help." Reemus nodded mutely and led him to the couch. Finally, he replied. "I knew you would return, child. Father God, once welcomed into your heart, does not leave without a fight. I always knew that girl was no good for you.." "JENNA WAS MY SOUL MATE!" he screamed, before catching himself. Father Reemus looked at him sadly. "Then why have you come? Did your marriage end?" A steady breath to calm himself, and Benjamin began his story. "Father, she died, almost three months ago. No, it wasn't drug-related." he said before Reemus could interrupt - "She was taken out by a wreck. It was raining. She had gotten out to push the spare tire back into the truck. When she got in and tried to pull on to the road, a semi hit her. Destroyed her." Reemus gasped. "Dear child, I am so sorry. Sadly, I don't believe you will see her again, unless you continue down the same path. How do you know what she was doing, Ben?" he asked, his curiosity peaked. Benjamin was glad he had asked. "Father, she isn't gone. Dead, but not gone. She's a ghost, a spirit, a demon, something. She's back, and she is haunting me, for whatever fucking reason." As he said this, the pressure increased in his head, and Jenna appeared. "You're wasting your time, hon. I'm not going anywhere." Ben gasped. "How the hell can you appear here? You shouldn't be able.." Ben noticed Reemus' worried glance to his left. He obviously couldn't see her. "Father, I need your help. I need you to help me send her wherever she is going to go. She doesn't... God help me, she doesn't belong here anymore." "Benjamin, I know something is here, be it a demon or ghost, I cannot say. Let me pray. You can not be harmed while here by any being of darkness, do you understand me? You can. not. be. harmed. I will be back shortly." Ben nodded, on the verge of tears while Jenna laughed beside him."That old fart doesn't know what he is talking about, does he baby? Where did you find him, the looney bin! Ha ha!" Benjamin sat silent. It was almost over. She couldn't hurt him here. "Ben, baby, don't ignore me. I don't like it, you know that." Again, silence. Her face contorted, not quite dead, but her eyes darkened, and the blood appeared as always, while her teeth broke and sharpened. "You fat fuck, don't ignore me." Benjamin lost his cool. "YOU CAN'T HURT ME ANYMORE, JENNA. JUST STOP. PLEASE." He broke into sobs and fell to his knees.Jenna, back to her beautiful state, knelt beside him, one hand on his back in comforting gesture. Something was in her free hand, small. "Baby, I love my job. Sometimes. It annoys me sometimes too. Did you know this ancient prick has a sewing machine? He sews, can you believe it?! You wouldn't know it, with those ratty ass pajamas." Ben only cried harder, listening to the familiar love-hate relationship Jenna had had with her job. She was leaving soon, he reminded himself. His heart broke nearly audibly. Jenna smiled. "Benny, love. I love you, you love me. You don't really want me to leave, do you?" she cooed, with a sickly sweet grin. He leaned against her, crying harder. "No, shit no. I don't want to lose you again, Jenna. I miss you. Jesus.. But you can't.. You can't.." he trailed off, his head shaking as he sobbed. "I can't. But you can.." he looked up. She smiled encouragingly, her hand caressing his face, wet with salty tears. "But Taylor.. your mom. Geanna." Briefly, she let her mood darken. "They are keeping you from me, baby. WIth all those fucking pills and appointments. They want you for themselves. They never gave a shit about me. But you do. You are the only one who does. And that old man... Father Time, or what the fuck ever.. He wants me to be alone, baby." She sniffed, putting on a show of pouting, before opening her hand to reveal a pair of hevay metal scissors. "But you... you don't want me to be alone, do you?" Benjamin stared blankly at the object. Silence filled the room. So many thoughts, clogging his head. The room spun as he grabbed them from his wife. His dead wife. Finally, he looked up to meet her gaze, his voice child-like, what little sanity he had left gone now under her pleadings. "No. No, I don't wan to be alone." he sighed, looking lovingly at her. She smiled, glancing to the stairs where Father Reemus had just climbed. "Don't let me be alone, Benjamin." she sighed, before vanishing. Benjamin rose, his eyes hollow but the scissors clasped tightly in his hand. Quietly, he climbed the stairs to Father Reemus' room....

[Epilogue]LATER THAT DAYTaylor sighed, reading over the newspaper at his kitchen table while the news rambled on. He had all but tuned it out when something grasped and held his attention."Breaking news: Respected Father Reemus, the priest at Kentucky First Catholic Church, was found dead in his home, along with 27 year old Benjamin Sorrels. Little is known about the case, other than it was a murder-suicide, with Father Reemus as victim. We have an interview with the Father's next door neighbor. Kathy, who do you have there?"The screen changed to the next newscaster, and Taylor ignored the coffee that had fallen to the floor from his trembling hand."Thanks Beverly, I'm here with Cheyenne Remington, Maxamillion Reemus' neighbor, who claims that she heard part of the altercation. Can you fill us in, Miss Remington?"A heavyset 20-something began to speak. "Both Father's bedroom and window and mine was open, so I heard a lot. I know he was praying, because I recognize the chants. Then he started screaming, something about a demon. Then, the other guy started talking, but his voice was weird. He sounded nuts, let me tell you. All he said, over and over, was 'I'll fix you.'"END