Chapter 4
Wet and chilled from the rain, Chucky sprang up on the tattered porch and sprinted to the back of the house. He felt exhilaration coming on.
"Marcy, I'm ho-ome" He grinned, easily finding a way inside.
Marceline was fully blissed, now. She had put another record on and was watching candlelight dance across the room. A low thunder broke over the house and rumbled through her chest. The vibrations caught her by surprise. Suddenly, she was very aware of her body. So aware, and in tune, that she just might have a shot at getting off this time. She snuggled back into bed and started exploring herself.
"Cut the power, cut the bitch." Chucky laughed maniacally as he flipped open the breaker. This was his favorite part. Setting the mood for the kill. He yanked the switch down and looked up as the sounds of the house went dead silent. The basement felt cooler as the darkness settled. Flashing lightning was all that illuminated the way upstairs.
Marcy didn't even notice her lamp go dark. Her eyes were closed and she was busy trying to conjure up a steamy situation in her mind as she touched herself. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get past a brief tickling feeling in her clit. Her body wanted to, but her mental block just wouldn't cooperate, even though it felt good. She hadn't given up, yet, but a noise brought her eyes open and snapped her out of the chase.
The door to her bedroom swayed ever so slightly. She could hear her cat hissing in the kitchen, near the basement door. She felt like she might cry. All she wanted was to feel good and clear her head and everything was set up perfect but- another sound interrupted her self pity and stopped her heart. She held her breath, straining to hear if she was crazy? It sounded like she heard somebody whisper her name. 'Mar - ce - lee-ine' It was hard to tell. Sometimes the cat made syllables and vowels when he talked. She was also pretty stoned and between her records and the rain, she couldn't be sure.
"Who's there?" She shot up and gasped, checking around the room. Nobody answered. The voice sounded familiar but she couldn't place it. Did she actually hear her name? Lightning flashed, and immediately a rocketing boom of thunder channeled the room. The storm was peaking. She got out of bed and ran to the kitchen, darting her eyes around. Chuckles hopped onto the breakfast nook, no longer bothered. Still not feeling completely safe, yet, she flung open the basement door and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened. She flicked it twice, three times. The power was out. She hadn't noticed because her record player had a battery. Sighing, she grabbed a flashlight out of the kitchen drawer and started downstairs. "Hello?" She called out. There was, literally, no one there. She was scaring herself, that's all. She searched her entire house until she felt secure. The voice felt like a distant memory, but she was still on edge. The storm was starting to move on. Chuckles asked to be let outside. Marcy's heart steadied and her nerves eased. There was nothing to be afraid of.