cloversworld (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cloversworld) wrote2009-03-30 01:56 pm
cloversworld) wrote2009-03-30 01:56 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Who Dunnit? {Day 2}
Title: Who Dunnit?, Part 2/4
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clover71
Pairing: David Cook/ David Archuleta
Rating: NC-17
Beta:rajkumari905
Description: A mystery/thriller fic that revolved around a 'who dunnit' or 'clue' theme.
Summary: AI Season 7's ten finalists spent a weekend at a house in a private island for their reunion four years after their season ended, likewise reuniting Cook and Archie almost a year after they broke up. However, people started to mysteriously disappear and the remaining members of their group began to suspect each other of being responsible for the disappearances. Will the thrilling events bring Cook and Archie back together?
Disclaimer:
1) Please note that this is purely fiction and none of the contents are real except for some of the characters used in this story.
2) Most characters used are based on real people but the details within do not purposely imply occurrences in real life; thus, anything here that concurs with real events may be completely coincidental.
3) This fic is created based solely on the imagination of the author and for non-profitable purpose.
4) Some establishments and/or organizations used in the story are existent but in no way owned by or connected with the author. Everything written in line with those establishments/ organizations are fictitious and are only created by the author.
* Day 1 *
Author's notes:
- Thanks to my lovely beta Pri (rajkumari905) for all her help. Please note though that due to my eyesight's limited capacity, I may have overlooked some corrections she had made; thus, if there are still mistakes, please blame it on me.
~ begin ~
Author:
clover71Pairing: David Cook/ David Archuleta
Rating: NC-17
Beta:
rajkumari905Description: A mystery/thriller fic that revolved around a 'who dunnit' or 'clue' theme.
Summary: AI Season 7's ten finalists spent a weekend at a house in a private island for their reunion four years after their season ended, likewise reuniting Cook and Archie almost a year after they broke up. However, people started to mysteriously disappear and the remaining members of their group began to suspect each other of being responsible for the disappearances. Will the thrilling events bring Cook and Archie back together?
Disclaimer:
1) Please note that this is purely fiction and none of the contents are real except for some of the characters used in this story.
2) Most characters used are based on real people but the details within do not purposely imply occurrences in real life; thus, anything here that concurs with real events may be completely coincidental.
3) This fic is created based solely on the imagination of the author and for non-profitable purpose.
4) Some establishments and/or organizations used in the story are existent but in no way owned by or connected with the author. Everything written in line with those establishments/ organizations are fictitious and are only created by the author.
* Day 1 *
Author's notes:
- Thanks to my lovely beta Pri (
rajkumari905) for all her help. Please note though that due to my eyesight's limited capacity, I may have overlooked some corrections she had made; thus, if there are still mistakes, please blame it on me.~ begin ~
=== Day 2 ===
Brooke was surprised to see the kitchen buzzing with activity at six o’ clock in the morning. She looked around and saw David standing by the kitchen counter beside the stove, mixing a batter, and Cook flipping pancakes on a pan. Stacy was right beside Cook, making omelets, and slapping Michael’s hand away every now and then because the Australian kept on snatching slices of cheese from the variety of omelet fillings on a plate.
Ramiele and Carly were both busy preparing smoothies, throwing all sorts of fruits in the blender while Chikezie was placing sliced fruits on a platter.
“Wow,” Brooke breathed. “Looks like you guys have started preparing breakfast without me.”
“Oh honey, we were hoping you’d sleep in so you can rest since you did all the hard work yesterday,” Carly said, turning the blender off to stop the grinding noise.
“You’re my guests. I shouldn’t let you do any work at all,” Brooke felt a bit embarrassed but she smiled and thanked everyone for the gesture. “By the way. Has anyone seen Dave?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“What time did he get back from the shack last night?” Michael inquired.
“I’m not sure,” Brooke thought deeply, trying to recall what had happened the previous night. “I sent him out to get a gas tank for the water heater, but he never came back. Well… at least not to our room. I thought he slept on the couch or stayed at the attic. But when I went up there earlier, he wasn’t around.”
“I think I was the first one up this morning. But I didn’t see Dave anywhere when I came down here,” Chikezie said and he looked rather confused, so Brooke told him what happened the night before.
“I thought he’d gone back,” Michael interjected. “I tried the shower again thirty minutes after I went back to our room last night, and both hot and cold water worked.”
“Where could he be?” Brooke muttered as she paced around the kitchen.
“Tell you what,” Cook walked past everyone with a plate full of pancakes on both hands and made his way to the dining area with Brooke following him. “If he doesn’t show up for breakfast, we’ll all go out and look for him, okay?”
Brooke nodded in agreement.
=== &&&&& ===
An hour later, when Dave didn’t show up, Cook, Jason and Michael went over to the shack Brooke had directed them to.
It wasn’t a very a long walk, but Cook could just imagine how difficult it might have been if it were dark. The vines that hung from the trees along the path somehow made the area look like a forbidden forest, as Cook remembered its description in one of David’s Harry Potter books.
“There’d better not be any creepy crawling things out here or I’m gone as fast as a speeding bullet,” Jason grumbled and continued to express his regret at agreeing to go with the two older men.
“What’s that crawling on your back, Jason?” Michael mocked and he burst into laughter when Jason started wriggling like a worm as he tried to get a view of his back while yelling, “What is it? Take it off!”
Realizing that Michael was only kidding, Jason narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together in a thin line. Cook could tell that some silly idea for revenge was running through Jason’s mind.
It was when they walked into a clearing that Michael started squirming and pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, saying, “What the fuck did you put in my shirt Jason?”
The younger man remained poker-faced though. Cook could only shake his head when he saw green leaves falling out of Michael’s shirt as the Australian continued to frantically pull at his clothing.
“Guys, please,” Cook pleaded. “Let’s just do what we came here to do.”
They finally reached the shed and the first thing they noticed was the door ajar. Cook pushed it open cautiously and peered inside before entering the stuffy room. The sunlight that shone through the tiny windows on opposite sides scarcely flooded the small area, creating uncanny shadows on the cemented floor. The light bulb, which appeared to serve as the shed’s light source, was erratically flickering and Cook felt like he had just stepped in to a studio where a scene involving the creepy character on Friday the 13th jumping out of the shadows to scare them out of their wits.
Cook’s heart nearly fell out of his chest when he felt a heavy weight on his shoulder only to realize in next to no time that it was Jason’s hand and he almost did not hear the other man utter, “Look there.”
Before Cook could reprimand his companion for almost giving him heart failure, Jason was already stooping down between two large gas tanks, his dreadlocks falling gracefully at the side of his face. He picked something up then brandished it before him and Cook’s gaze fell on a broken flashlight. The fact that it was broken wasn’t what made Cook’s heart beat faster than normal but it was the stains of dried blood on it, which Michael pointed at with a trembling finger.
“Do you think this belonged to one of us? Like Dave?” Jason’s voice sounded like it was being forced out of his throat.
“I think we better head back,” Michael seemed perturbed.
“We should show it to Brooke,” Jason argued as they made their way back to the manor. He was still holding the flashlight on its end with his hanky wrapped around it. He mentioned something about messing up the fingerprints when they left the shack. “She could tell us whether this was Dave’s. If not, then someone else must have been to the shack and could badly be hurt.”
Michael was awfully quiet, which Cook found extremely unusual, and he was pretty jumpy every time he heard noises around them other than those made by Jason and Cook.
“Are you okay?” Cook strode by Michael, finding the change in the Australian’s mood rather unsettling.
“Yup. Why wouldn’t I be?” Michael breathed through his nose.
Cook kept throwing curious glances at Michael while they walked down the slope that led to the front lawn of the manor where they could see some of their friends in the distance. David was walking towards them.
“So you and little Davey got back together yet?” Michael lowered his voice, leaning in closer to Cook.
“We’re working on it,” replied Cook, his heart fluttering at the thought of reconciling with David but half of his mind was still on Michael’s peculiar behavior.
Jason was walking ahead and David nodded past him but the younger man suddenly halted and turned his head back to Jason.
“Hey baby,” Cook planted a kiss at the back of David’s head.
“What’s that thing Jason’s holding?” David asked, his eyes fixed on Jason’s hand.
“Something we found at the shack,” Michael explained, rushing forward to join Jason as they approached Brooke, who quickly stood up from the wooden swing with Stacy.
“Didn’t you find him?” Brooke asked without waiting for the three men to say anything.
“No,” Michael shook his head as he spoke.
“The shack’s door was open though when we got there,” Jason began to explain. “Not sure if that’s unusual, but we didn’t find anything else other than this.” He held out the large flashlight, which Brooke took with shaking hand.
“He had brought this with him when he went out last night,” Brooke said in a choked voice as she scrutinized the object, noticing the blood stains. “Oh God, where could he be?”
“I’m sure he’s just around here somewhere, sweetie,” Stacy placed her hand gently on Brooke’s shoulder in assurance.
“Do you think something could have happened to him?” Brooke’s lips were trembling and it looked like she was about to cry.
“Now, now. Let’s try not to think negatively about it,” chanted Stacy in a comforting way while she and her husband looked at each other like they were sending telepathic messages.
Jason turned to Cook and Cook knew that in spite of Jason’s silence during their trek back to the manor, he had likewise noticed the change in Michael’s mood. And now Cook knew they were thinking the same thing. Whatever it was that was bothering Michael, Stacy knew about it.
=== &&&&& ===
“No! No! Chikezie don’t!” Kristy yelled but it was too late. The forearms she’d raised to block her face did no good as water soon splashed all over her face.
Loud laughter drifted from the lake’s shore and Kristy glared at everyone as she sputtered out the water that inevitably gushed inside her mouth when she screamed.
“Sorry Kristy,” Chikezie said as he wiped excess water off his face when he surfaced. “I couldn’t resist doing a cannonball dive.”
“I’m sure you couldn’t,” Kristy rolled her eyes and leaned back, making her body gracefully float on the surface.
“Chikezie!” Someone yelled from the shore. “We’re going around the island to look for Dave. You wanna come?”
“Yeah sure. Be right there,” Chikezie yelled back and he swam towards the shore.
Kristy shifted from her lying position, submerging her lower body under the water. Then she glided towards Carly, Syesha and Ramiele.
“Hey guys,” Kristy didn’t miss the way Carly twitched her lips on one side into a sneer. She suddenly remembered the harsh things she had said to the Irish woman the previous night and her heart was soon filled with guilt.
Her face fell as she looked at Carly, and Kristy shoved her pride down the bottom of the lake when she started out with, “Carly, I’m… I’m really sorry about last night. I… I don’t know what got into me. I must’ve had too much of that Vodka.”
Syesha raised an eyebrow. “Where d’you find Vodka? I thought Brooke said there wasn’t any liquor around.”
“At the bar, duh,” Ramiele said with an eye roll.
“I thought you said the room that had the bar was locked,” Syesha looked at Ramiele with her forehead creased.
“It was!”
“It wasn’t when I stumbled in it,” Kristy piped in, a bit confused at the contradicting situation. “Anyway,” she continued, turning to Carly, “I really am sorry for the things I said.”
Carly managed to smile a little, “Don’t worry about Kristy. It’ll be okay.”
“Well, I don’t know about you girls, but I’m going to help the others look for Dave,” Syesha interjected and she swept through the water, making her way to the bank.
“I’m going to help too,” Carly did a breaststroke as she followed Syesha.
“Wait, what about the float?” Ramiele pointed at the inflatable pool mattress that was floating a few feet from where they were.
“I’ll get it,” Kristy said then glided towards the direction of the floating bed. “You guys go on ahead.”
“Are you sure?” Ramiele called out after her.
“Yeah, go on!”
Kristy grasped on the nylon rope at the side of the mattress and pulled it towards the shore. She was a few meters away when she heard a swooshing sound. She turned her head around but didn’t see any sign of movement anywhere, except there were ripples on the surface near where she was treading water, like it had just been disturbed.
The she felt something brushed against her leg. Something cold. She gazed down trying to see through the clear surface and when she saw what looked like a dark shadow making its way to her, she quickly kicked off in an attempt to swim towards the bank. But then something icy cold wrapped around her legs and pulled her under.
=== &&&&& ===
The old car chugged as Chikezie drove it along the bumpy road. It wasn’t much of a road as it was simply a path cleared of grass and any other plants that led to the other side of the island.
Brooke had said that the property was only a two-acre land; thus, paved roads weren’t necessary to get around. The only paved road seen was the one from the dock by the river on the east side of the island that led up to the manor. Chikezie drove past the stream and turned to a stony path that stretched towards the center of the island.
He continued to drive for the next fifteen minutes but decided to turn back when he didn’t find any trace of Brooke’s husband. He drove for fifteen minutes more and he felt a weight on his chest when he got a bizarre inkling that he was somehow lost. He knew he should have reached the stream by now but he hadn’t even heard the rippling water like he had when he’d gone past it moments ago.
The car made a spewing noise as it slowed down.
“Damn,” Chikezie muttered under his breath as the car stopped. “I’m going to tell Brooke to push you down the lake and let you sink later, you old piece of shit,” he got out of the car and stomped towards the front; then lifted the hood forcefully.
Brooke had told him that the car was her grand uncle’s and she had no idea when it was last used. But when the car spurred to life after Chikezie turned the key in the ignition, he was positive that he wouldn’t have much trouble since he presumed he only needed the vehicle for less than an hour.
After making a few adjustments, Chikezie slammed the hood shut and slipped back into the driver’s seat. “C’mon baby, just a few meters more and you’ll be back in your nice little ole garage,” he coaxed, turning the key gently.
“Yes!” Chikezie exclaimed when the car started without faltering. Soon he was driving through the still unfamiliar path.
His phone rang and Chikezie glanced over the passenger seat where he had placed his phone after he spoke to Cook several minutes earlier. He reached out to grab it and when he turned his gaze back on the road, his eyes widened at the sight of a hooded figure standing in the middle of the path.
Chikezie dropped his phone back on the seat next to his and grabbed the stirring wheel with both hands, frantically turning it to avoid running into the motionless figure. The vehicle crashed into a tree and Chikezie lurched forward, the seatbelt dug into his front and his forehead smacked into the stirring wheel.
Vertigo swept over him and his vision became hazy. Chikezie heard his door open and felt cold hands grasping him by his shirt. He was close to losing consciousness so he hardly felt the mysterious stranger yank him out of the car.
=== &&&&& ===
“He’s not answering,” Cook said as he paced around the room. David and Brooke were watching him. “Where the fuck are you, Chikezie?”
“Anything?” Syesha asked as she walked into the living room with Michael behind her.
Cook shook his head and pulled his phone away from his ear to dial Chikezie’s number once more.
“All right… uhuh…. thanks Jason,” Carly was on the phone when she sauntered in. “That’s okay. Why don’t you and Ramiele head back here and we’ll resume our search after lunch,” she continued to speak without glancing at anyone in the room. “Okay, we’ll see you then.”
Carly looked around as soon as she hung up and announced, “Jason and Ramiele are on their way back.” Then she turned to Cook and asked, “Were you able to get Chikezie?”
“He’s not answering his phone. The last time I talked to him, he was driving to the center of the island and he said he was heading back,” Cook explained and he ran his hand through his hair as he sank on one of the couches. “But that was almost an hour ago. He should be here by now.”
“I’m sure he’ll be here,” Carly paused and contemplated a moment. “I hope he’ll be here. Soon.”
“Guys,” Stacy appeared in the doorway. “I’ve made sandwiches and mac and cheese. I hope that’s enough for lunch.”
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry Stacy. I should’ve helped you,” Brooke stood up and walked over to the blonde woman.
“Oh it’s fine dear,” was Stacy’s amiable reply. “I know you’re worried about Dave so you shouldn’t be distracted with other things. Aren’t the others back yet?”
When Michael informed his wife that Ramiele and Jason were on their way back and that they could not get a hold of Chikezie, Stacy interposed, “Where’s Kristy?”
Lunch was almost forgotten as everyone rushed down the lake at the northern side of the island where Kristy was reportedly seen last.
Ramiele burst into tears when she saw the inflatable pool mattress floating almost in the middle of the lake. She relayed what went on before she left the lake with Syesha and Carly.
“She couldn’t have drowned. Kristy is a good swimmer,” Jason said, trying to console Ramiele.
They had searched the area thoroughly but had to go back to the house when their endeavor proved to be futile. They had a late lunch after heating the sandwiches in the oven and the mac and cheese over the stove.
Before they regrouped at the front lawn to start their search for the now three missing people, Jason asked Michael and Cook to follow him.
“What the fuck?”
“Omigosh!”
“What the hell?”
Jason stood behind the SUV holding some rust-covered chains, shackles and whip with sharp things on its end. “I found these at a small cabin which was hidden behind thick foliage at the far western part. I wouldn’t have found it if I didn’t follow the person who I thought was Dave into the bushes.”
“You saw Dave?” David, who apparently refused to leave Cook’s side, gasped.
“No. I saw someone. I thought it was Dave, but he would have stopped and turned around when I called out his name,” Jason explained.
“Did Ramiele see these?” Michael asked.
“Why do you think she looked so shaken when she realized Kristy is missing too?”
There was momentary silence.
“What do you think this means?” Cook asked worriedly.
“It means we may not be alone on this island,” Jason supplied as he returned the strange-looking items at the back of the vehicle.
“There’s something else I think you should know,” Michael said in a lowered voice. He briefly told the three other men about the articles he and Stacy had found. “I haven’t had a chance to read everything.”
“Can we see it now?” Michael nodded to Cook’s request but before they could move from their spot, the rest of the group ambled out of the house.
=== &&&&& ===
He was exhausted. If he thought back to when he’d ever felt this exhausted, nothing matched the stress and fatigue that was overpowering his body and mind at the moment. Michael turned the jeep to a narrower path, his eyes darting in all directions.
“Are we lost?” Syesha asked, leaning on the backrest of the passenger seat.
“Nah. We’re still following tire tracks, aren’t we?” was Michael’s not-so-reassuring response.
They drove in silence for the next ten minutes or so until Syesha sat up straight, flailing her hands as she exclaimed, “Stop! Stop! Back up a bit. I thought I saw something.”
Michael put the vehicle in reverse and backed up.
“There!” Syesha pointed at a distance and sure enough, it was unmistakably the car that they’d seen Chikezie drive off in earlier that day.
Michael turned the jeep into the much narrower road but the Cherokee old model was too wide to easily go through it. “I think we can walk from here,” Michael was already getting off from the driver side as he spoke.
“Michael!” Syesha called out in a hushed voice but the Australian had already taken a few steps towards the car. She puffed out a frustrated breath and hesitantly slid out of the vehicle.
Syesha grasped desperately at the back of Michael’s shirt as they approached the car. She whipped her head at every sound she heard, and was beginning to feel silly for being so paranoid.
“Do you think he’s hurt?” Syesha asked, her voice shaking.
“I hope not,” Michael choked, swallowing the lump that was caught in his throat as he examined the car’s damage as they came nearer.
“He’s not here!” Syesha squeaked in panic when they peered into the empty car. “Where is he?”
Michael spun around, turning his head here and there. He saw something moving between the trees, and he had to blink his eyes once to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. Then he saw it again, a dark hooded figure running around the bend of a cluster of thick trees and before he knew it, his feet had moved and he sprinted after it.
He barely heard Syesha calling after him. He wasn’t even presuming it was Chikezie he saw. All he knew was three of his friends had gone missing and something strange was going on on the island and he was determined to find out what the hell was happening.
But when Michael reached the area where the figure had gone, he saw nothing. Except a set of footprints and what looked like a track made by something being dragged on it. Then he saw something beside the bushes. He walked over to pick it up and realized that it was a cell phone. He immediately presumed it was Chikezie’s
His eyes were wandering, seeking out more clues that could help determine his friend’s whereabouts when he heard the ear-splitting scream.
Syesha.
He couldn’t see her from where he stood so he dashed back to where he left Syesha but when he got there, she was gone. There were footsteps around the spot where she’d been but it disappeared on the grassy part of the area. Michael saw something glinting against the sunlight a few steps away and when he went over to investigate, he found a silver bracelet made up of linked hearts. He picked it up, trying to recall whether Syesha had been wearing it but his mind had been too preoccupied that he couldn’t remember.
Michael heard a strange clanking noise, like chains being dragged on the ground, and it made the hair on every part of his body stand. His heartbeat picked up to a pace he hadn’t known it was capable of.
Slowly, cautiously, he walked backwards, making his way to the jeep. His senses were on ‘high alert’ and all he could think of was getting back to his wife alive. He felt bad for leaving Syesha, but when the sounds became louder and he felt like someone would soon be grabbing him by the neck, Michael bolted.
=== &&&&& ===
“How could you just leave her there! She could be hurt! She might need help!” Ramiele’s screams were ringing on everyone’s ears as the tiny girl continued to pound against Michael’s chest.
“Rami, it was either both of them, or just one of them. At least Michael got away to let us know what happened,” David winced at what he had just said. He was never good at consoling, and since he’d never been in a situation like this before, he just didn’t know what to say. All he knew was he had to say something because Ramiele’s outburst wasn’t doing anything to lessen the tension that had risen in the manor.
“Thanks, mate,” was Michael’s barely audible utterance.
“This is all fucked up,” everyone turned to David, some with widened eyes and some with their mouths hanging open. David noticed and a blush covered his cheeks, but he still blurted, “Well excuse me. But I think I’m entitled to cuss at a time like this. Gosh!”
“What do we do now?” Ramiele had stopped treating Michael’s chest like a door that wouldn’t budge. “What the hell’s going on anyway?” Then she started babbling incoherently but no one really paid much attention as every single one of them was in deep thought.
In spite of Ramiele’s prattling, the silence that besieged the rest was daunted by unspeakable dread. Flashes of frightening images of deranged dream-invader with sharp knives at the tips of his fingers or a masked psychotic killer holding a chain saw crept through David’s imaginative mind.
“So,” David jumped at the sound of Cook’s voice. Cook seemed to notice because he reached out and pulled David against his chest, wrapping his arms around him and clasping his hands together against David’s tummy. “Is there something about this island that we need to know Brooke?”
Brooke bit her lower lip, her forehead wrinkled, her face glistened from tearstains. “Gheez, now I regret more than ever not paying attention to my grand uncle whenever he’d tell me and my cousins stories about this island.”
“Is there anybody else trying to claim it? I mean is there some sort of inheritance battle?” Cook asked further and David couldn’t help but think that his boyfriend… and yes, it had lost its prefix ‘ex’… sounded like he was possessed by Sherlock Holmes ’ spirit, if he ever existed.
“Not that I know of, no,” Brooke broke into a pensive mood at this point.
“What made you ask that?” David said, turning his head a little so he could get a glimpse of Cook.
Cook explained that there might be a possibility that someone other than them was at the island. Someone who could possibly have an underlying interest in the property and could be creating schemes to frighten them so they would leave, giving the person responsible the chance to claim it.
“But that’s not even possible. No one can just claim the island since the property title is under Brooke’s name, right?” Jason supplied, rising from the chair in the corner of the living room to sit somewhere closer to his friends.
They spent the next hour discussing their theories. It was already dark outside when Stacy got up and announced that she would be preparing dinner and Brooke quickly followed her to the kitchen.
“I’m gonna go up to the room and get some rest,” David told everyone, hoping Cook would get the hint and follow him.
It took a good ten minutes before Cook finally joined David in their room. David had actually moved his things to the room Cook occupied because one, he wouldn’t dare sleep alone in his room after what he had seen the night before; and two, when he had overheard Syesha and Ramiele’s little debate, and when the taller girl had uttered that she’d rather sleep on the couch than share the room with Ramiele for the rest of their stay, David just had to step in and offer the room he had originally occupied; and three, well… he missed Cook.
“What took you so long,” David said in an almost hushed voice.
“What? You missed me?” Cook smirked, grabbing David by the hips and backed him slowly to the bed.
David let Cook guide him like he was under his boyfriend’s hypnotic spell. He fell butt first on the bed when the back of his legs hit the edge and Cook slowly pushed him until he was lying on his back. Their lips met in a slow gentle kiss, gliding and sucking, and Cook caught David’s lower lip between his teeth, nibbled on it lightly before he let his mouth travel down his neck.
A soft enticing whimper escaped David’s lips as he felt Cook sucking on his collarbone and he released a long breathy moan when Cook swiped his tongue languidly on the bruised spot, loving the warm and wet feeling against his skin.
His head was suddenly up in the clouds as Cook’s tongue continued to give him pleasure, feeling it glide across his neck, feeling it trace the contours of his chest when his shirt was lifted, circle his nipples and dip into his belly button. He uttered, “Please,” several times but didn’t know why. All he wanted was for Cook not to stop.
When he felt Cook’s breath against his stomach, David raised his head to see what Cook was doing. Any remnant of his sanity was shoved out the window when he saw the zipper of his jeans caught between his boyfriend’s teeth as it was pulled down. He didn’t even know how the button came undone.
Cook lowered his boxers and promptly pressed his tongue on David’s throbbing erection, swirling it around the head before taking the entire shaft in his mouth. David felt like his heart had left his chest the way it hammered against his rib cage due to the intense pleasure.
Cook took time sucking and licking David’s cock; his face clearly showed he was enjoying it. And when Cook made slurping sounds in between humming, “Hmmm,” it was evident that Cook enjoyed tasting him as he had in the past.
Then came the familiar weight building up in his abdomen, like a water balloon waiting to explode. One last combination of squeeze and pump that Cook’s hand expertly did on the base of David’s cock sent a gush of come down Cook’s throat.
Kissing his way up to David’s torso, Cook whispered, “God I missed you so much.” And he sealed it with his lips to David’s.
It might have taken a while before the dazed feeling left David and he rolled on top of Cook who was lying on his back beside him. He grazed his lips on Cook’s, letting his lips linger on his boyfriend’s soft ones for a while, until he remembered why he had gone back to the room and waited for Cook to follow in the first place.
“Oh my gosh,” David sat up straight, straddling Cook’s hips. “You totally distracted me.”
Cook’s laugh sounded like music to his ears, and it had often provided a calming effect that David couldn’t explain.
“Stop that! This is a very serious matter,” David was hitting Cook lightly on his arms and only stopped when Cook grabbed his wrists and apologized, kissing him all over his face.
“Something terrible’s obviously going on,” David slid off of Cook and looked around for his t-shirt, which he couldn’t even remember taking off; or maybe Cook had taken it off.
“Well I’m pretty sure everyone has noticed by now,” Cook handed David his shirt, which he found on the bedside table.
After putting the shirt back on, David stated, “I don’t want to stay here and wait for either one of us to disappear, Cookie. Is there a way for us to leave?”
Cook thought for a moment, and then he shook his head, “Afraid not babe. The motorboat was used by Brooke’s aunt and uncle and the ferry doesn’t return until Monday.”
“There must be something,” David started pacing around the room. “Like, what if there’s an emergency? Like what’s happening now. I’m sure we could call 911. Why haven’t we, anyway?”
“Know what, baby? You’re a genius,” Cook fished out his phone from his pocket and dialed 9-1-1. He pressed the phone against his ear and his brows furrowed. He pulled the phone away and dialed the number once more. And his expression clearly stated ‘what-the-fuck?’
“What is it?”
“I couldn’t make a call. The signal’s dead,” Cook stared at his phone as if it was an alien gadget.
“Try my phone,” David grabbed his cell phone from the vanity table but stopped short when he glanced at it, causing his brows to meet in the middle of his forehead. “The signal’s dead too.” He tried to make a phone call but got the same result as Cook did.
When they went back down stairs and told Michael about what they had tried to do, Michael only rolled his eyes and said, “We’ve tried calling for help the moment we found out Kristy was missing too. And that’s when we realized that all the phones couldn’t pick up a signal anymore. I thought I told you that. You even nodded when I asked if you were having the same problem.”
“I thought you meant some other ‘problem’,” Cook ashamedly muttered, which made Michael burst into laughter and he did nothing but tease both Davids throughout dinner.
=== &&&&& ===
The old newspaper articles Michael had found were scattered all over the floor. Jason, Cook and Michael read anything significant aloud.
“Listen to this,” Jason started, “From the time Richard Kreighdon reclaimed the island and turned it into a vacation home, hoping to erase its unpleasant history—“
“Unpleasant? Quite a way to put it mildly,” Stacy interrupted. “Oh… Sorry,” she held up a hand in apology when Michael gave her a reprimanding look.
Jason cleared his throat before he continued, “It had been reported that any guest of Kreighdon’s who spent several days on the island ended up being temporarily disturbed, some had been reported to suffer from schizophrenia, claiming that they heard voices ordering them to hurt the people they were with.”
“Okay that’s creepy,” Cook said.
“Where’s Archie?” Stacy noticed the younger man’s absence.
“With Brooke,” Cook’s eyes were still fixed on the article he was reading. “He saw her crying and thought he’d keep her company until she falls asleep.”
“That’s sweet,” Stacy couldn’t help but smile. “Uhm… I’m going down to grab some midnight snacks. You boys want anything?”
After getting a series of requests for beer, root beer, light soda, chips, and finger sandwiches, Stacy made her way down to the kitchen with a bit of a regret for asking what the men want.
She found Carly alone, gazing out the kitchen window while mindlessly stirring the cup of tea, the tea bags still visibly submerged in it.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Stacy asked as softly as she could to avoid startling the other woman but it didn’t work.
“Yeah,” Carly breathed. “I’m worried about the others, wondering what happened to them. And hoping that everything is just one sick joke.”
“I’m actually hoping the same thing,” Stacy went through her usual task of preparing snacks. “I’m going to make sandwiches for the three men who are making quite a mess in our room right now. Would you like anything with your tea?”
Carly shook her head muttering, “No, thanks.”
“I heard what happened between you and Kristy last night,” Stacy said conversationally, hoping that she didn’t sound too nosy. “I also heard she apologized before… uhm… before she went missing.”
“Are you accusing me of being responsible for her disappearance?” Carly’s voice slightly rose a level higher.
“Of course not,” was Stacy’s quick defense. “Look Carly, I’m not trying to start anything here other than a peaceful conversation. I know you and Kristy were friends, but had some rough spots. And I’m simply expressing how glad I am to hear that she had at least made an effort to smoothen those rough spots. So I—”
She was distracted with a sudden movement behind the doorway. “Oh hello Rami. Do you want any snacks sweetie?”
Ramiele shook her head as she walked into the kitchen, “I was just going to get a bottle of water so I won’t have to come down in case I get thirsty in the middle of the night.”
“Oh okay,” Stacy watched the petite girl go through the contents of the refrigerator before grabbing what she needed and threw an impassive ‘good night’ as she left.
Before Stacy could speak, Carly blurted, “Look Stacy, I know you hate me—“
“Why? Because you and my husband had an affair?” Stacy interjected. “Carly, that’s all in the past. It was difficult for me, I admit, but I chose to bury that in a memory capsule and move on. We were not that close, I know. But we were still friends. And I know you’ve paid dearly for your mistakes. I think if we are not to rekindle our friendship, we ought to at least be civil with each other.”
To say that Stacy was surprised to be on a receiving end of a tight hug from Carly was an understatement as it took her a fraction of a moment to regain her balance after the other woman tackled her and another moment for her mind to register what had happened before she could respond and hug back.
“Michael is one lucky bastard to have someone as sweet as you,” Carly whispered.
Stacy chuckled as she pulled away, saying, “Yeah. He is, isn’t he?”
After Carly had bidden her ‘good night’ and had left the kitchen, Stacy went on rummaging in the cabinets in search for the bags of chips that David had hidden from Cook earlier that day. She had just found it behind a stack of canned meat when she heard a distant cry of what unmistakably sounded like an infant from outside the window.
She went out through the back door so she could hear it better but the sound ceased the moment she stepped out. She waited for about a minute before turning back but just as she had raised a foot on the first step of the stairs, the crying started again.
Her mind was screaming at her to get back in the manor and she knew she should be cautious, considering what had happened the entire day, but she couldn’t ignore the desperate wailing of a baby. Following the source of the sound, she found herself walking along the path that led to the garden. Then she perceived that the crying came from the underbrush near the pumpkin patch.
When the leaves began to move, all Stacy could picture was an infant possibly hurt and hungry lying beneath the prickly foliage so she rushed over and desperately parted the leaves in search of the child. But there was nothing. She was about to step back when a pair of bright red eyes appeared through the foliage and cold clammy hands grabbed her wrists.
Ramiele and Carly were both busy preparing smoothies, throwing all sorts of fruits in the blender while Chikezie was placing sliced fruits on a platter.
“Wow,” Brooke breathed. “Looks like you guys have started preparing breakfast without me.”
“Oh honey, we were hoping you’d sleep in so you can rest since you did all the hard work yesterday,” Carly said, turning the blender off to stop the grinding noise.
“You’re my guests. I shouldn’t let you do any work at all,” Brooke felt a bit embarrassed but she smiled and thanked everyone for the gesture. “By the way. Has anyone seen Dave?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“What time did he get back from the shack last night?” Michael inquired.
“I’m not sure,” Brooke thought deeply, trying to recall what had happened the previous night. “I sent him out to get a gas tank for the water heater, but he never came back. Well… at least not to our room. I thought he slept on the couch or stayed at the attic. But when I went up there earlier, he wasn’t around.”
“I think I was the first one up this morning. But I didn’t see Dave anywhere when I came down here,” Chikezie said and he looked rather confused, so Brooke told him what happened the night before.
“I thought he’d gone back,” Michael interjected. “I tried the shower again thirty minutes after I went back to our room last night, and both hot and cold water worked.”
“Where could he be?” Brooke muttered as she paced around the kitchen.
“Tell you what,” Cook walked past everyone with a plate full of pancakes on both hands and made his way to the dining area with Brooke following him. “If he doesn’t show up for breakfast, we’ll all go out and look for him, okay?”
Brooke nodded in agreement.
An hour later, when Dave didn’t show up, Cook, Jason and Michael went over to the shack Brooke had directed them to.
It wasn’t a very a long walk, but Cook could just imagine how difficult it might have been if it were dark. The vines that hung from the trees along the path somehow made the area look like a forbidden forest, as Cook remembered its description in one of David’s Harry Potter books.
“There’d better not be any creepy crawling things out here or I’m gone as fast as a speeding bullet,” Jason grumbled and continued to express his regret at agreeing to go with the two older men.
“What’s that crawling on your back, Jason?” Michael mocked and he burst into laughter when Jason started wriggling like a worm as he tried to get a view of his back while yelling, “What is it? Take it off!”
Realizing that Michael was only kidding, Jason narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together in a thin line. Cook could tell that some silly idea for revenge was running through Jason’s mind.
It was when they walked into a clearing that Michael started squirming and pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, saying, “What the fuck did you put in my shirt Jason?”
The younger man remained poker-faced though. Cook could only shake his head when he saw green leaves falling out of Michael’s shirt as the Australian continued to frantically pull at his clothing.
“Guys, please,” Cook pleaded. “Let’s just do what we came here to do.”
They finally reached the shed and the first thing they noticed was the door ajar. Cook pushed it open cautiously and peered inside before entering the stuffy room. The sunlight that shone through the tiny windows on opposite sides scarcely flooded the small area, creating uncanny shadows on the cemented floor. The light bulb, which appeared to serve as the shed’s light source, was erratically flickering and Cook felt like he had just stepped in to a studio where a scene involving the creepy character on Friday the 13th jumping out of the shadows to scare them out of their wits.
Cook’s heart nearly fell out of his chest when he felt a heavy weight on his shoulder only to realize in next to no time that it was Jason’s hand and he almost did not hear the other man utter, “Look there.”
Before Cook could reprimand his companion for almost giving him heart failure, Jason was already stooping down between two large gas tanks, his dreadlocks falling gracefully at the side of his face. He picked something up then brandished it before him and Cook’s gaze fell on a broken flashlight. The fact that it was broken wasn’t what made Cook’s heart beat faster than normal but it was the stains of dried blood on it, which Michael pointed at with a trembling finger.
“Do you think this belonged to one of us? Like Dave?” Jason’s voice sounded like it was being forced out of his throat.
“I think we better head back,” Michael seemed perturbed.
“We should show it to Brooke,” Jason argued as they made their way back to the manor. He was still holding the flashlight on its end with his hanky wrapped around it. He mentioned something about messing up the fingerprints when they left the shack. “She could tell us whether this was Dave’s. If not, then someone else must have been to the shack and could badly be hurt.”
Michael was awfully quiet, which Cook found extremely unusual, and he was pretty jumpy every time he heard noises around them other than those made by Jason and Cook.
“Are you okay?” Cook strode by Michael, finding the change in the Australian’s mood rather unsettling.
“Yup. Why wouldn’t I be?” Michael breathed through his nose.
Cook kept throwing curious glances at Michael while they walked down the slope that led to the front lawn of the manor where they could see some of their friends in the distance. David was walking towards them.
“So you and little Davey got back together yet?” Michael lowered his voice, leaning in closer to Cook.
“We’re working on it,” replied Cook, his heart fluttering at the thought of reconciling with David but half of his mind was still on Michael’s peculiar behavior.
Jason was walking ahead and David nodded past him but the younger man suddenly halted and turned his head back to Jason.
“Hey baby,” Cook planted a kiss at the back of David’s head.
“What’s that thing Jason’s holding?” David asked, his eyes fixed on Jason’s hand.
“Something we found at the shack,” Michael explained, rushing forward to join Jason as they approached Brooke, who quickly stood up from the wooden swing with Stacy.
“Didn’t you find him?” Brooke asked without waiting for the three men to say anything.
“No,” Michael shook his head as he spoke.
“The shack’s door was open though when we got there,” Jason began to explain. “Not sure if that’s unusual, but we didn’t find anything else other than this.” He held out the large flashlight, which Brooke took with shaking hand.
“He had brought this with him when he went out last night,” Brooke said in a choked voice as she scrutinized the object, noticing the blood stains. “Oh God, where could he be?”
“I’m sure he’s just around here somewhere, sweetie,” Stacy placed her hand gently on Brooke’s shoulder in assurance.
“Do you think something could have happened to him?” Brooke’s lips were trembling and it looked like she was about to cry.
“Now, now. Let’s try not to think negatively about it,” chanted Stacy in a comforting way while she and her husband looked at each other like they were sending telepathic messages.
Jason turned to Cook and Cook knew that in spite of Jason’s silence during their trek back to the manor, he had likewise noticed the change in Michael’s mood. And now Cook knew they were thinking the same thing. Whatever it was that was bothering Michael, Stacy knew about it.
“No! No! Chikezie don’t!” Kristy yelled but it was too late. The forearms she’d raised to block her face did no good as water soon splashed all over her face.
Loud laughter drifted from the lake’s shore and Kristy glared at everyone as she sputtered out the water that inevitably gushed inside her mouth when she screamed.
“Sorry Kristy,” Chikezie said as he wiped excess water off his face when he surfaced. “I couldn’t resist doing a cannonball dive.”
“I’m sure you couldn’t,” Kristy rolled her eyes and leaned back, making her body gracefully float on the surface.
“Chikezie!” Someone yelled from the shore. “We’re going around the island to look for Dave. You wanna come?”
“Yeah sure. Be right there,” Chikezie yelled back and he swam towards the shore.
Kristy shifted from her lying position, submerging her lower body under the water. Then she glided towards Carly, Syesha and Ramiele.
“Hey guys,” Kristy didn’t miss the way Carly twitched her lips on one side into a sneer. She suddenly remembered the harsh things she had said to the Irish woman the previous night and her heart was soon filled with guilt.
Her face fell as she looked at Carly, and Kristy shoved her pride down the bottom of the lake when she started out with, “Carly, I’m… I’m really sorry about last night. I… I don’t know what got into me. I must’ve had too much of that Vodka.”
Syesha raised an eyebrow. “Where d’you find Vodka? I thought Brooke said there wasn’t any liquor around.”
“At the bar, duh,” Ramiele said with an eye roll.
“I thought you said the room that had the bar was locked,” Syesha looked at Ramiele with her forehead creased.
“It was!”
“It wasn’t when I stumbled in it,” Kristy piped in, a bit confused at the contradicting situation. “Anyway,” she continued, turning to Carly, “I really am sorry for the things I said.”
Carly managed to smile a little, “Don’t worry about Kristy. It’ll be okay.”
“Well, I don’t know about you girls, but I’m going to help the others look for Dave,” Syesha interjected and she swept through the water, making her way to the bank.
“I’m going to help too,” Carly did a breaststroke as she followed Syesha.
“Wait, what about the float?” Ramiele pointed at the inflatable pool mattress that was floating a few feet from where they were.
“I’ll get it,” Kristy said then glided towards the direction of the floating bed. “You guys go on ahead.”
“Are you sure?” Ramiele called out after her.
“Yeah, go on!”
Kristy grasped on the nylon rope at the side of the mattress and pulled it towards the shore. She was a few meters away when she heard a swooshing sound. She turned her head around but didn’t see any sign of movement anywhere, except there were ripples on the surface near where she was treading water, like it had just been disturbed.
The she felt something brushed against her leg. Something cold. She gazed down trying to see through the clear surface and when she saw what looked like a dark shadow making its way to her, she quickly kicked off in an attempt to swim towards the bank. But then something icy cold wrapped around her legs and pulled her under.
The old car chugged as Chikezie drove it along the bumpy road. It wasn’t much of a road as it was simply a path cleared of grass and any other plants that led to the other side of the island.
Brooke had said that the property was only a two-acre land; thus, paved roads weren’t necessary to get around. The only paved road seen was the one from the dock by the river on the east side of the island that led up to the manor. Chikezie drove past the stream and turned to a stony path that stretched towards the center of the island.
He continued to drive for the next fifteen minutes but decided to turn back when he didn’t find any trace of Brooke’s husband. He drove for fifteen minutes more and he felt a weight on his chest when he got a bizarre inkling that he was somehow lost. He knew he should have reached the stream by now but he hadn’t even heard the rippling water like he had when he’d gone past it moments ago.
The car made a spewing noise as it slowed down.
“Damn,” Chikezie muttered under his breath as the car stopped. “I’m going to tell Brooke to push you down the lake and let you sink later, you old piece of shit,” he got out of the car and stomped towards the front; then lifted the hood forcefully.
Brooke had told him that the car was her grand uncle’s and she had no idea when it was last used. But when the car spurred to life after Chikezie turned the key in the ignition, he was positive that he wouldn’t have much trouble since he presumed he only needed the vehicle for less than an hour.
After making a few adjustments, Chikezie slammed the hood shut and slipped back into the driver’s seat. “C’mon baby, just a few meters more and you’ll be back in your nice little ole garage,” he coaxed, turning the key gently.
“Yes!” Chikezie exclaimed when the car started without faltering. Soon he was driving through the still unfamiliar path.
His phone rang and Chikezie glanced over the passenger seat where he had placed his phone after he spoke to Cook several minutes earlier. He reached out to grab it and when he turned his gaze back on the road, his eyes widened at the sight of a hooded figure standing in the middle of the path.
Chikezie dropped his phone back on the seat next to his and grabbed the stirring wheel with both hands, frantically turning it to avoid running into the motionless figure. The vehicle crashed into a tree and Chikezie lurched forward, the seatbelt dug into his front and his forehead smacked into the stirring wheel.
Vertigo swept over him and his vision became hazy. Chikezie heard his door open and felt cold hands grasping him by his shirt. He was close to losing consciousness so he hardly felt the mysterious stranger yank him out of the car.
“He’s not answering,” Cook said as he paced around the room. David and Brooke were watching him. “Where the fuck are you, Chikezie?”
“Anything?” Syesha asked as she walked into the living room with Michael behind her.
Cook shook his head and pulled his phone away from his ear to dial Chikezie’s number once more.
“All right… uhuh…. thanks Jason,” Carly was on the phone when she sauntered in. “That’s okay. Why don’t you and Ramiele head back here and we’ll resume our search after lunch,” she continued to speak without glancing at anyone in the room. “Okay, we’ll see you then.”
Carly looked around as soon as she hung up and announced, “Jason and Ramiele are on their way back.” Then she turned to Cook and asked, “Were you able to get Chikezie?”
“He’s not answering his phone. The last time I talked to him, he was driving to the center of the island and he said he was heading back,” Cook explained and he ran his hand through his hair as he sank on one of the couches. “But that was almost an hour ago. He should be here by now.”
“I’m sure he’ll be here,” Carly paused and contemplated a moment. “I hope he’ll be here. Soon.”
“Guys,” Stacy appeared in the doorway. “I’ve made sandwiches and mac and cheese. I hope that’s enough for lunch.”
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry Stacy. I should’ve helped you,” Brooke stood up and walked over to the blonde woman.
“Oh it’s fine dear,” was Stacy’s amiable reply. “I know you’re worried about Dave so you shouldn’t be distracted with other things. Aren’t the others back yet?”
When Michael informed his wife that Ramiele and Jason were on their way back and that they could not get a hold of Chikezie, Stacy interposed, “Where’s Kristy?”
Lunch was almost forgotten as everyone rushed down the lake at the northern side of the island where Kristy was reportedly seen last.
Ramiele burst into tears when she saw the inflatable pool mattress floating almost in the middle of the lake. She relayed what went on before she left the lake with Syesha and Carly.
“She couldn’t have drowned. Kristy is a good swimmer,” Jason said, trying to console Ramiele.
They had searched the area thoroughly but had to go back to the house when their endeavor proved to be futile. They had a late lunch after heating the sandwiches in the oven and the mac and cheese over the stove.
Before they regrouped at the front lawn to start their search for the now three missing people, Jason asked Michael and Cook to follow him.
“What the fuck?”
“Omigosh!”
“What the hell?”
Jason stood behind the SUV holding some rust-covered chains, shackles and whip with sharp things on its end. “I found these at a small cabin which was hidden behind thick foliage at the far western part. I wouldn’t have found it if I didn’t follow the person who I thought was Dave into the bushes.”
“You saw Dave?” David, who apparently refused to leave Cook’s side, gasped.
“No. I saw someone. I thought it was Dave, but he would have stopped and turned around when I called out his name,” Jason explained.
“Did Ramiele see these?” Michael asked.
“Why do you think she looked so shaken when she realized Kristy is missing too?”
There was momentary silence.
“What do you think this means?” Cook asked worriedly.
“It means we may not be alone on this island,” Jason supplied as he returned the strange-looking items at the back of the vehicle.
“There’s something else I think you should know,” Michael said in a lowered voice. He briefly told the three other men about the articles he and Stacy had found. “I haven’t had a chance to read everything.”
“Can we see it now?” Michael nodded to Cook’s request but before they could move from their spot, the rest of the group ambled out of the house.
He was exhausted. If he thought back to when he’d ever felt this exhausted, nothing matched the stress and fatigue that was overpowering his body and mind at the moment. Michael turned the jeep to a narrower path, his eyes darting in all directions.
“Are we lost?” Syesha asked, leaning on the backrest of the passenger seat.
“Nah. We’re still following tire tracks, aren’t we?” was Michael’s not-so-reassuring response.
They drove in silence for the next ten minutes or so until Syesha sat up straight, flailing her hands as she exclaimed, “Stop! Stop! Back up a bit. I thought I saw something.”
Michael put the vehicle in reverse and backed up.
“There!” Syesha pointed at a distance and sure enough, it was unmistakably the car that they’d seen Chikezie drive off in earlier that day.
Michael turned the jeep into the much narrower road but the Cherokee old model was too wide to easily go through it. “I think we can walk from here,” Michael was already getting off from the driver side as he spoke.
“Michael!” Syesha called out in a hushed voice but the Australian had already taken a few steps towards the car. She puffed out a frustrated breath and hesitantly slid out of the vehicle.
Syesha grasped desperately at the back of Michael’s shirt as they approached the car. She whipped her head at every sound she heard, and was beginning to feel silly for being so paranoid.
“Do you think he’s hurt?” Syesha asked, her voice shaking.
“I hope not,” Michael choked, swallowing the lump that was caught in his throat as he examined the car’s damage as they came nearer.
“He’s not here!” Syesha squeaked in panic when they peered into the empty car. “Where is he?”
Michael spun around, turning his head here and there. He saw something moving between the trees, and he had to blink his eyes once to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. Then he saw it again, a dark hooded figure running around the bend of a cluster of thick trees and before he knew it, his feet had moved and he sprinted after it.
He barely heard Syesha calling after him. He wasn’t even presuming it was Chikezie he saw. All he knew was three of his friends had gone missing and something strange was going on on the island and he was determined to find out what the hell was happening.
But when Michael reached the area where the figure had gone, he saw nothing. Except a set of footprints and what looked like a track made by something being dragged on it. Then he saw something beside the bushes. He walked over to pick it up and realized that it was a cell phone. He immediately presumed it was Chikezie’s
His eyes were wandering, seeking out more clues that could help determine his friend’s whereabouts when he heard the ear-splitting scream.
Syesha.
He couldn’t see her from where he stood so he dashed back to where he left Syesha but when he got there, she was gone. There were footsteps around the spot where she’d been but it disappeared on the grassy part of the area. Michael saw something glinting against the sunlight a few steps away and when he went over to investigate, he found a silver bracelet made up of linked hearts. He picked it up, trying to recall whether Syesha had been wearing it but his mind had been too preoccupied that he couldn’t remember.
Michael heard a strange clanking noise, like chains being dragged on the ground, and it made the hair on every part of his body stand. His heartbeat picked up to a pace he hadn’t known it was capable of.
Slowly, cautiously, he walked backwards, making his way to the jeep. His senses were on ‘high alert’ and all he could think of was getting back to his wife alive. He felt bad for leaving Syesha, but when the sounds became louder and he felt like someone would soon be grabbing him by the neck, Michael bolted.
“How could you just leave her there! She could be hurt! She might need help!” Ramiele’s screams were ringing on everyone’s ears as the tiny girl continued to pound against Michael’s chest.
“Rami, it was either both of them, or just one of them. At least Michael got away to let us know what happened,” David winced at what he had just said. He was never good at consoling, and since he’d never been in a situation like this before, he just didn’t know what to say. All he knew was he had to say something because Ramiele’s outburst wasn’t doing anything to lessen the tension that had risen in the manor.
“Thanks, mate,” was Michael’s barely audible utterance.
“This is all fucked up,” everyone turned to David, some with widened eyes and some with their mouths hanging open. David noticed and a blush covered his cheeks, but he still blurted, “Well excuse me. But I think I’m entitled to cuss at a time like this. Gosh!”
“What do we do now?” Ramiele had stopped treating Michael’s chest like a door that wouldn’t budge. “What the hell’s going on anyway?” Then she started babbling incoherently but no one really paid much attention as every single one of them was in deep thought.
In spite of Ramiele’s prattling, the silence that besieged the rest was daunted by unspeakable dread. Flashes of frightening images of deranged dream-invader with sharp knives at the tips of his fingers or a masked psychotic killer holding a chain saw crept through David’s imaginative mind.
“So,” David jumped at the sound of Cook’s voice. Cook seemed to notice because he reached out and pulled David against his chest, wrapping his arms around him and clasping his hands together against David’s tummy. “Is there something about this island that we need to know Brooke?”
Brooke bit her lower lip, her forehead wrinkled, her face glistened from tearstains. “Gheez, now I regret more than ever not paying attention to my grand uncle whenever he’d tell me and my cousins stories about this island.”
“Is there anybody else trying to claim it? I mean is there some sort of inheritance battle?” Cook asked further and David couldn’t help but think that his boyfriend… and yes, it had lost its prefix ‘ex’… sounded like he was possessed by Sherlock Holmes ’ spirit, if he ever existed.
“Not that I know of, no,” Brooke broke into a pensive mood at this point.
“What made you ask that?” David said, turning his head a little so he could get a glimpse of Cook.
Cook explained that there might be a possibility that someone other than them was at the island. Someone who could possibly have an underlying interest in the property and could be creating schemes to frighten them so they would leave, giving the person responsible the chance to claim it.
“But that’s not even possible. No one can just claim the island since the property title is under Brooke’s name, right?” Jason supplied, rising from the chair in the corner of the living room to sit somewhere closer to his friends.
They spent the next hour discussing their theories. It was already dark outside when Stacy got up and announced that she would be preparing dinner and Brooke quickly followed her to the kitchen.
“I’m gonna go up to the room and get some rest,” David told everyone, hoping Cook would get the hint and follow him.
It took a good ten minutes before Cook finally joined David in their room. David had actually moved his things to the room Cook occupied because one, he wouldn’t dare sleep alone in his room after what he had seen the night before; and two, when he had overheard Syesha and Ramiele’s little debate, and when the taller girl had uttered that she’d rather sleep on the couch than share the room with Ramiele for the rest of their stay, David just had to step in and offer the room he had originally occupied; and three, well… he missed Cook.
“What took you so long,” David said in an almost hushed voice.
“What? You missed me?” Cook smirked, grabbing David by the hips and backed him slowly to the bed.
David let Cook guide him like he was under his boyfriend’s hypnotic spell. He fell butt first on the bed when the back of his legs hit the edge and Cook slowly pushed him until he was lying on his back. Their lips met in a slow gentle kiss, gliding and sucking, and Cook caught David’s lower lip between his teeth, nibbled on it lightly before he let his mouth travel down his neck.
A soft enticing whimper escaped David’s lips as he felt Cook sucking on his collarbone and he released a long breathy moan when Cook swiped his tongue languidly on the bruised spot, loving the warm and wet feeling against his skin.
His head was suddenly up in the clouds as Cook’s tongue continued to give him pleasure, feeling it glide across his neck, feeling it trace the contours of his chest when his shirt was lifted, circle his nipples and dip into his belly button. He uttered, “Please,” several times but didn’t know why. All he wanted was for Cook not to stop.
When he felt Cook’s breath against his stomach, David raised his head to see what Cook was doing. Any remnant of his sanity was shoved out the window when he saw the zipper of his jeans caught between his boyfriend’s teeth as it was pulled down. He didn’t even know how the button came undone.
Cook lowered his boxers and promptly pressed his tongue on David’s throbbing erection, swirling it around the head before taking the entire shaft in his mouth. David felt like his heart had left his chest the way it hammered against his rib cage due to the intense pleasure.
Cook took time sucking and licking David’s cock; his face clearly showed he was enjoying it. And when Cook made slurping sounds in between humming, “Hmmm,” it was evident that Cook enjoyed tasting him as he had in the past.
Then came the familiar weight building up in his abdomen, like a water balloon waiting to explode. One last combination of squeeze and pump that Cook’s hand expertly did on the base of David’s cock sent a gush of come down Cook’s throat.
Kissing his way up to David’s torso, Cook whispered, “God I missed you so much.” And he sealed it with his lips to David’s.
It might have taken a while before the dazed feeling left David and he rolled on top of Cook who was lying on his back beside him. He grazed his lips on Cook’s, letting his lips linger on his boyfriend’s soft ones for a while, until he remembered why he had gone back to the room and waited for Cook to follow in the first place.
“Oh my gosh,” David sat up straight, straddling Cook’s hips. “You totally distracted me.”
Cook’s laugh sounded like music to his ears, and it had often provided a calming effect that David couldn’t explain.
“Stop that! This is a very serious matter,” David was hitting Cook lightly on his arms and only stopped when Cook grabbed his wrists and apologized, kissing him all over his face.
“Something terrible’s obviously going on,” David slid off of Cook and looked around for his t-shirt, which he couldn’t even remember taking off; or maybe Cook had taken it off.
“Well I’m pretty sure everyone has noticed by now,” Cook handed David his shirt, which he found on the bedside table.
After putting the shirt back on, David stated, “I don’t want to stay here and wait for either one of us to disappear, Cookie. Is there a way for us to leave?”
Cook thought for a moment, and then he shook his head, “Afraid not babe. The motorboat was used by Brooke’s aunt and uncle and the ferry doesn’t return until Monday.”
“There must be something,” David started pacing around the room. “Like, what if there’s an emergency? Like what’s happening now. I’m sure we could call 911. Why haven’t we, anyway?”
“Know what, baby? You’re a genius,” Cook fished out his phone from his pocket and dialed 9-1-1. He pressed the phone against his ear and his brows furrowed. He pulled the phone away and dialed the number once more. And his expression clearly stated ‘what-the-fuck?’
“What is it?”
“I couldn’t make a call. The signal’s dead,” Cook stared at his phone as if it was an alien gadget.
“Try my phone,” David grabbed his cell phone from the vanity table but stopped short when he glanced at it, causing his brows to meet in the middle of his forehead. “The signal’s dead too.” He tried to make a phone call but got the same result as Cook did.
When they went back down stairs and told Michael about what they had tried to do, Michael only rolled his eyes and said, “We’ve tried calling for help the moment we found out Kristy was missing too. And that’s when we realized that all the phones couldn’t pick up a signal anymore. I thought I told you that. You even nodded when I asked if you were having the same problem.”
“I thought you meant some other ‘problem’,” Cook ashamedly muttered, which made Michael burst into laughter and he did nothing but tease both Davids throughout dinner.
The old newspaper articles Michael had found were scattered all over the floor. Jason, Cook and Michael read anything significant aloud.
“Listen to this,” Jason started, “From the time Richard Kreighdon reclaimed the island and turned it into a vacation home, hoping to erase its unpleasant history—“
“Unpleasant? Quite a way to put it mildly,” Stacy interrupted. “Oh… Sorry,” she held up a hand in apology when Michael gave her a reprimanding look.
Jason cleared his throat before he continued, “It had been reported that any guest of Kreighdon’s who spent several days on the island ended up being temporarily disturbed, some had been reported to suffer from schizophrenia, claiming that they heard voices ordering them to hurt the people they were with.”
“Okay that’s creepy,” Cook said.
“Where’s Archie?” Stacy noticed the younger man’s absence.
“With Brooke,” Cook’s eyes were still fixed on the article he was reading. “He saw her crying and thought he’d keep her company until she falls asleep.”
“That’s sweet,” Stacy couldn’t help but smile. “Uhm… I’m going down to grab some midnight snacks. You boys want anything?”
After getting a series of requests for beer, root beer, light soda, chips, and finger sandwiches, Stacy made her way down to the kitchen with a bit of a regret for asking what the men want.
She found Carly alone, gazing out the kitchen window while mindlessly stirring the cup of tea, the tea bags still visibly submerged in it.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Stacy asked as softly as she could to avoid startling the other woman but it didn’t work.
“Yeah,” Carly breathed. “I’m worried about the others, wondering what happened to them. And hoping that everything is just one sick joke.”
“I’m actually hoping the same thing,” Stacy went through her usual task of preparing snacks. “I’m going to make sandwiches for the three men who are making quite a mess in our room right now. Would you like anything with your tea?”
Carly shook her head muttering, “No, thanks.”
“I heard what happened between you and Kristy last night,” Stacy said conversationally, hoping that she didn’t sound too nosy. “I also heard she apologized before… uhm… before she went missing.”
“Are you accusing me of being responsible for her disappearance?” Carly’s voice slightly rose a level higher.
“Of course not,” was Stacy’s quick defense. “Look Carly, I’m not trying to start anything here other than a peaceful conversation. I know you and Kristy were friends, but had some rough spots. And I’m simply expressing how glad I am to hear that she had at least made an effort to smoothen those rough spots. So I—”
She was distracted with a sudden movement behind the doorway. “Oh hello Rami. Do you want any snacks sweetie?”
Ramiele shook her head as she walked into the kitchen, “I was just going to get a bottle of water so I won’t have to come down in case I get thirsty in the middle of the night.”
“Oh okay,” Stacy watched the petite girl go through the contents of the refrigerator before grabbing what she needed and threw an impassive ‘good night’ as she left.
Before Stacy could speak, Carly blurted, “Look Stacy, I know you hate me—“
“Why? Because you and my husband had an affair?” Stacy interjected. “Carly, that’s all in the past. It was difficult for me, I admit, but I chose to bury that in a memory capsule and move on. We were not that close, I know. But we were still friends. And I know you’ve paid dearly for your mistakes. I think if we are not to rekindle our friendship, we ought to at least be civil with each other.”
To say that Stacy was surprised to be on a receiving end of a tight hug from Carly was an understatement as it took her a fraction of a moment to regain her balance after the other woman tackled her and another moment for her mind to register what had happened before she could respond and hug back.
“Michael is one lucky bastard to have someone as sweet as you,” Carly whispered.
Stacy chuckled as she pulled away, saying, “Yeah. He is, isn’t he?”
After Carly had bidden her ‘good night’ and had left the kitchen, Stacy went on rummaging in the cabinets in search for the bags of chips that David had hidden from Cook earlier that day. She had just found it behind a stack of canned meat when she heard a distant cry of what unmistakably sounded like an infant from outside the window.
She went out through the back door so she could hear it better but the sound ceased the moment she stepped out. She waited for about a minute before turning back but just as she had raised a foot on the first step of the stairs, the crying started again.
Her mind was screaming at her to get back in the manor and she knew she should be cautious, considering what had happened the entire day, but she couldn’t ignore the desperate wailing of a baby. Following the source of the sound, she found herself walking along the path that led to the garden. Then she perceived that the crying came from the underbrush near the pumpkin patch.
When the leaves began to move, all Stacy could picture was an infant possibly hurt and hungry lying beneath the prickly foliage so she rushed over and desperately parted the leaves in search of the child. But there was nothing. She was about to step back when a pair of bright red eyes appeared through the foliage and cold clammy hands grabbed her wrists.
=== continued on Day 3 ===
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I thought I knew who was doing it, but now... it can be any of them, if the voices tell them to do so...
Can't wait for more!
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Random, but the thought of a Sherlock Holmes!Cook kinda brings a smile to my face. =)
Another fabulous chapter, girl!
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(oh, and the sex scene was hot by the way)
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Sherlock Holmes!Cook is love!! XD ♥♥♥
Omg, the bedroom scene with Archie and Cook was really, really hot, ngl.
I really love this fic. It's original and you have an amzing ability to really draw a person into the story.
Lovely, bb. <333
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*actually, I know you already posted part 3, so... goes*