Horror Sensation/HORROR.iso/stories/3.txt

Text File | 1980-11-27 | 14KB | 246 lines

@ BARN LANE

# By Andrew Campbell 1994


 `Long since abandoned textile mills,' Ryan always thought when he
took the Barn Lane route to work. Was he going to waste eighty pence
on a bus ride plagued by giddy home-bound schoolkids? No way. Walking
was much cheaper, far more interesting and good excersise too.
 Barn Lane provided a rather murky diversion from the main road. It
was a `B' road, Ryan supposed - not very busy but far from out of use.
After the first bend there was an ancient barn, obviously the building
that gave the road its name. `Creepy as shit,' Ryan always thought
when he passed it (trying to avoid his strange temptation to peek
inside through the gaps in those nailed-up windows). The grass that
surrounded the barn was washy green and uncut; there was never any
sign of human activity near the place. Never.
 In order to reach the office, Ryan had to follow Barn Lane from start
to finish. It led him through silent valleys between incredibly steep
dirt mounds, gave him spectacular close-up tours of the Stone Bridge
Textile Mills - ancient, derelict buildings, blackened by smoke,
gutted of their innards and left to crumble - and revealed to him
traces of a once operational viaduct which probably carried a railway
line from here to Halifax.
 Eerily dark, quiet and overrun by prickly vegetation, Barn Lane was
an extraordinary experience to say the least. Taking the bus cost you
twenty pence less than a pound and gave you a seat beside a window
smeared with mud. To Ryan, there was no competition.
 A cobbled pathway joined up with Barn Lane about a quarter of the way
into town. Ryan had no idea where it went... Beechwood possibly? Maybe
even out onto the moors... he really didn't know. Nobody had ever come
wandering down from that path either, not whilst he'd been passing.
 Until today.
 It was a guaranteed collision, too. Ryan could always sense when he
was going to end up walking behind some fat-arsed pram-pusher, or a
weirdo like this blonde-haired guy - twenty years old at the most -
who was coming down the cobbled path right at this moment. For six
months he'd walked past this bit of Barn Lane without anyone to slow
down his pace. Six months - surely this guy was a fluke.
 `He's gonna walk at my speed, exactly, until he reaches the road,'
Ryan thought. `And then he's gonna slow right the hell down so I'll
have to overtake him. I bet you anything that's what happens.'
 Head bobbing up and down behind a barricade of blackberry bushes and
over-grown bracken, the blonde-haired guy called out, "Hey mate,
excuse me! I'm trying get into Oldham, any ideas which direction? All
these country roads look the same to me."
 Ryan hated speaking to strange people. He'd once turned down a job at
a food store because it involved dealing with members of the public.
For some reason his voice sounded different when he was alone;
powerless and thin, and he could never say the things he wanted to
either. He supposed it was natural after having just left school and
stepped into the `big wide world' (as his English teacher used to
say). His job at the office was as boring as hell, yes, but at least
he wasn't dealing with human beings from the darkest depths of this
twisted society.
 "You just go straight ahead," Ryan told the guy, hoping that would be
the end of their communication session and he'd be able to continue
his trek down Barn Lane as freely as usual.
 "Just down there?" the guy pointed in the right direction. He came
off the cobbled road just as Ryan was passing (what a prediction) and
walked beside him.
 "It's about three and a half miles." Ryan announced, hoping this
slight exaggeration might put the guy off.
 "Phew, quite a trot. You heading the same way?"
 Ryan glanced at the man briefly. He was dressed in a plain black
tee-shirt, black denims and had a thick silver chain around his neck.
His exposed skin - bare arms, neck and face - was nicely sun-tanned,
and his hair was smooth, gold and quite long. He smelt quite pleasant
too, Ryan decided after catching a wif of the guy's aftershave (or was
it perfume? He wasn't sure).
 "Yeah. I'm going to work." Ryan said. Out of the corner of his eye
the man seemed to resemble a woman - a beautiful, sexy blonde. This
crazy idea sent a shiver down Ryan's spine. `Here I am walking down
Barn Lane with a bloke who turns me on. Jesus.'
 "So you're from these parts, huh?" the guy went on. "I'm from London
myself. There's no roads like this in London, mate." he sniggered and
looked at Ryan - probably for a reaction. Ryan sniffed up and smiled a
bit but nothing more.
 "Yeah, I'm actually visiting a friend of mine. He used to live in
Halifax but he lives in Oldham now. I just hope he's still living at
the address I've got written down or I'm screwed. I'll turn into a
squatter over night!" he chuckled to himself and glanced at Ryan
again. He had a nice, slightly wheezy way of laughing but Ryan wasn't
in the mood for sharing mildly amusing jokes. He still felt annoyed
and... well, strangely aroused. He didn't quite understand what he
found appealing about the guy - his silky blonde hair, his pleasant
smell... he couldn't just pin-point a certain factor.
 The guy didn't speak for a while. He kept walking beside Ryan, boots
crunching in the gravel, jeans swishing together gently. About one
hundred yards from the point where the cobbled pathway joined the
road, the man said, "Not in the mood for talking, huh?"
 Ryan shrugged, thinking: `Correct, pal. Why don't you go away?'
 More crunchy footsteps. Ryan found himself having to alter his pace
to ensure he didn't walk in exact synchronization with the guy. He
also pocketed his hands to hide a terribly big erection. `My God what
the hell's happening to me? Does he know I'm ready to jerk off over
him or what?'
 "Do you want me to run on ahead a bit?" he said quite softly. "I
don't mind."
 Ryan hesitated. "Well.... it's not that, I..."
 "Hey, I get on people's nerves regularly. I just like conversation,
that's all. Walking alone gets pretty boring. I won't take offence or
anything."
 "No, really," Ryan blushed a bit. "I don't know... what it is. I'm
sorry. I'm no good at small-talk stuff. You'd probably be better on
your own anyway." He checked the man's expression, only to find his
legs grind to a halt; the man had a very dark, handsome face. A
beautiful face, even. Those features... so clearly defined. Those
deep, entrancing blue eyes...
 `Oh sweet Jesus don't let me think like this! I can't be thinking
like this! I can't! I know I've never slept with a girl but hell, I'm
not queer! Surely I'm not... surely I'm... oh hell. Oh hell. Oh no. Am
I queer? Am I really a homosexual and it's taken this guy to make my
mind realise it? Surely not!'
 For almost a whole minute the two of them stood in the middle of Barn
Lane - staring at each other. When reality finally flooded its way
back into Ryan's head, he turned away and whispered, "Shit. What's
happening?"
 A hand touched his shoulder. He shivered, but didn't throw it away.
 "Are you alright?" came a whisper. "Did you feel something like I did
then or are you unsure of your sexuality?"
 Eyes tightly closed, mind tumbling, Ryan murmoured, "I don't know."
 The hand squeezed his shoulder very gentley. That powerful, arousing
smell flooded Ryans nostrils. Visions and feelings washed through him
like waves of heat, and whispers - poetic, spidery whispers - tickled
his ears... `Are you for sale or are you for rent? You gotta find out!
Gotta find out! Are you straight or are you BENT? You Gotta find out!
Gotta find out!'
 Ryan ran forwards out of reach, swung around and backed into the wall
of a field beside the road. Hornets dashed around his face, sweat
trickled down his back... the beautiful man stood innocently, calmly
in front of him.
 "Hey," he smiled, and his smile was as wonderful as the rest of him.
"You're a nervous one, aren't you? Stay calm, talk to your feelings,
let them take you which ever way seems natural."
 "I don't know which way..." Ryan whimpered. "I feel confused... I've
never felt... oh Jesus-"
 "Sometimes these things jump out when we least expect them. In our
case usually happens when we try to make love to a girl but can't find
enough sexual excitement." he cleared his throat. "Have you ever had
sex, kiddo?"
 Ryan shook his head jerkily, reluctantly. "No. So what?"
 "Exactly, exactly," the guy nodded. "So what? What does it matter? I
just wondered if you'd had suspicions about yourself the way I
discovered mine. Obviously not. In which case it must be me who's
triggered off a feeling inside you. It's a warm day, I don't usually
dress like this..." he looked down at himself briefly. "Perhaps I've
surfaced something that was long-since buried by peer-pressure or the
taboos of society. I don't know. But... you need to find out, kiddo."
 "Find out?" Ryan whispered, shuddering now. He was scared, yet still
aroused beyond belief - he felt so close to ejaculation it was making
his stomach churn.
 "Just say the word and I'll stop, okay?" the guy said, walking slowly
forwards. "If at any point you feel distressed or you feel what's
happening is wrong, yell at me. Shout at me, push me away. Do you
understand?"
 The words `Don't come near me,' were on the tip of Ryan's tongue but
they wouldn't come out... not even when the beautiful man reached out
and touched his cheek. Not even when the smell engulfed him, a chest
pressed against his, and lips brushed his own. The only thing he said
was "Ohhh God", when he climaxed in his trousers, flooding them with a
sticky warmth.

 Sunlight poked through the leaves in blinding, bluish rays, spreading
complex patterns across Ryan's bare chest and the blonde man's
encirled arms.
 "Are you alright?" came a whisper.
 Ryan, sat naked in another man's arms and shivering with fear and
confusion, said, "I think so... May I ask you something?"
 "Anything."
 "What's your name?"
 A small, wheezy laugh. "Gareth. What's yours?"
 "Ryan."
 "You're very beautiful, Ryan. I've never made love to a total
stranger before. Did you enjoy it? Did it feel natural?"
 Ryan closed his eyes and travelled back in time a few minutes...
Gareth hadn't taken advantage of him at all. Ryan's fear of having
full-on, rear-entry sex had been for nothing; Gareth had simply kissed
him, led him across the road into the trees and grass - out of sight -
then undressed and told Ryan to do the same. Moments later they'd been
eating each other like lions... perhaps the strongest, most powerful
of their experiences being an exchange turn of oral sex.
 Of course Ryan had enjoyed it. He wouldn't have allowed such a thing
to take place otherwise... would he? Had it felt natural...? Seeing
Gareth's muscly chest revealed rather than some girl's breasts...?
 "I think it felt natural," Ryan whispered. "I don't know... I've
never done... anything like that with a girl so I really don't know."
 Gareth cuddled him a bit. "Well, that's okay." he said. "What we've
just done has to be a one off, anyway. I love someone else."
 Ryan turned a bit. "You mean...?"
 "I'm sorry, I should have said a bit sooner." Gareth admitted. "I
gave in to my desires in your case. You're extremely good-looking if
you haven't noticed. Your shyness added a bit too."
 Ryan said nothing. He couldn't quite believe he'd actually made love
to another man... he wanted so desperately to feel ashamed; to assure
himself he wasn't gay but he didn't feel ashamed at all.
 As for his sexuality... well, lets just say it wasn't only women that
made his blood boil. Had he always been like this or was it Gareth who
had surfaced such a deeply buried desire...?
 "I'm late for work," Ryan said, even though he had no idea what the
time was. It was bound to be later than nine o'clock.
 "Do you want me to walk with you?" Gareth asked carefully.
 Ryan shook his head. "I don't think that would be a good idea."
 "Neither do I." he struggled to get up. Ryan shuffled forwards off
the man's knees, cuddled up against the trunk of a tree and watched
him dress.
# `Oh God now there has been a change in me oh God there has... this
#man has shown me God, shown me the dark side of God, the Devil
#perhaps but Lord I wanted it... I showed no hostility, let him kiss
#and touch and take me in his arms...'
 When he was fully dressed, Gareth edged away from the clearing of
grass and trees and stood at the edge of the road.
 "I'll go then. Will you be okay? You look a bit sick."
 "I'm just... confused, my head's spinning." Ryan croaked.
 "Want me to stay?"
 "No... no thanks. I'll be fine. You go."
 "Alright." Gareth said, then, "See you around, kiddo."
 He walked away.
 Ryan closed his eyes, placed his hand over his mouth, shivered, took
it away again, shuffled across the grass... then at last, threw up.

 The silence of Barn Lane seemed to preserve Ryan's experience for as
long as it took him to reach the end. When he passed them, the
derelict mills seemed different somehow. Smaller, older, their
construction so deviant in the modern world.
 When Barn Lane rejoined the flow of traffic from Stone Bridge and
Black Hill, and the pavements became populated with everyday people,
Ryan at last realised the meaning of his experience.
 `None of you have ever seen Barn Lane,' he thought as he merged with
the flowing river of pedestrians. `To you lot the only way into town
is by bus. You must pay for your ride. Barn Lane frightens you. In
your feeble minds it doesn't exist.'
 He brushed shoulders with an attractive young school girl running in
the opposite direction to the crowd. He replayed her sun-tanned legs
in motion, her short, waving skirt, her bouncing breasts.
 `I'm not homosexual,' Ryan realised. `I can just go against the flow,
that's all. Like Barn Lane, Gareth is an opposite route... a choice I
can make. If I want to take the bus, I will. It's normal, and if I
feel like being normal, so I shall be.'
 Before he arrived at the office he saw Gareth again... a black figure
in a crowd of morning shoppers - to all but Ryan, a normal fish in the
over-populated sea of society. Although the two men caught sight of
each other and smiled, they made no further attempt to communcate.
 In fact, after that day, they never met again.