RATING: Adult for language and content
DISCLAIMER: The Bee has no rights or claim on any
of the characters or products named in this story and makes
no profit from them.
SUMMARY: This is the third story in the Rosebud/verse.
Tara has been abducted and the police rush to find her.
The other members of the Circle decide that they can do
a better job and begin their own investigation.
Who will find her first and will it be in time?
Praise and thanks to the wonderful Petxnd for the amazing banner
"The Vision. That's what they called themselves."
Tara turned her head, following the sound of Rita's voice
as it moved aimlessly around the room, her full bladder
all but forgotten.
"They had a whole new way of looking at life. Things I
had never even considered. It was a life of freedom. Not
shackled by the conventional thinking that was formed by
centuries of restrictive religious dictate."
Tara's brow wrinkled in a concerned frown. This train of thought
that Rita was barreling down was definitely not a good one.
Still, she remained quiet and allowed her captor to continue.
"Well, it didn't take long to realize that the man who had recruited
us was the leader himself. The head of the Vision! I mean, how
amazing is that! Said his Vision name was Jim Jones. I think it
meant something, like a reference, but I never did find out what
it was. To be honest, I really didn't care. He could have called
himself PeeWee Herman and it wouldn't matter. Oh, you should
have seen him, Tara. He was beautiful. Tall, dark hair, green eyes.
Unbelievable! But you want to know what was the most amazing
thing about him? Go ahead, ask."
Not knowing what else to do and not wanting to anger her, Tara
did the only thing she could. She ask.
"What? What was the most amazing thing about him?"
Rita giggled as if she had been asked the color of her frilly panties.
"His power. It's true, you know. Power is the strongest aphrodisiac
in the world. He was a banker during the day. Straight, strong, VERY
rich. Millions rich. A man who could rule the world."
Before she could stop herself, and completely caught up in the story
Rita was telling, Tara opened her mouth again.
"What did he want from you?"
Clearly delighted in Tara's interest, Rita hurried back and sat on the
"Exactly! Why would someone that travels in those circles want to
take in a pair like me and Richard? Well. On the third night, when
there was about twenty of us in the penthouse and, you know, everybody
was fucking everybody else."
Rita's voice took on an air of boredom as though discussing shopping
for red beans and corn bread.
"You know, a man sticks his cock in your pussy for a few pumps than
pulls out and sticks it in some guys ass while he fucks someone else.
Just your general orgy. Anyway, where was I"
"Um, why you?"
"Right! Well, Jim was doing some old lady but she was dry so he
liked to slick his dick up in me cause I get real wet, and when he did,
damn if I didn't just ask him."
Rita laughed at the memory and began idly stroking Tara's numb arm.
"Well, after everybody shot their wads, we were all laying around
on the floor, naked, drinking wine and fingering all that wet spunk,
and he starts talking. Now, I don't know if I mentioned this before,
but they were all old. I mean OLD! They used to joke that they were
hippies. Said they were the original occupants of the Hotel California.
They were always talking about stuff from back in the day that 'whoosh'
sailed straight over my head."
Tara's heart picked up a beat. She got the reference. It was an Eagles
song from the late 60's about a church that had been turned into a
place of Satan worshippers.
"So, Jim tells us that they are all getting older and want their group to
live on. Said they needed new blood, young blood, someone they
could groom to carry on. Take the Vision on into the next century.
Well, let me tell you, we were floored! What an honor! The next
year was the most amazing of my life. Jim changed my whole concept
of life on this planet. Think about it Tara, if you take the archaic
religious restrictions off yourself and just live, the possibilities are unlimited."
Finally, Tara had to clarify.
"YES! Satan! He is the one true God! He wants us to be happy, Tara,
without all that business of sin. For instance, if I was still hung up on
what society dictates, I would never know that my brother has a cock
that fits perfectly in my ass or a tongue that can eat pussy like nobody
I have ever known. And if we both enjoy that, why should there be a
law against it? Whose business is it anyway?"
Tara felt sick. Her innocence and purity had insulated her from the evil
and corruption that lived in the world. If her hands had been free, she
would have clamped them over her ears. She wanted Rita to stop.
She wanted to go on pretending such things didn't exist in the world.
"Pleasure and power run the world, Tara. That's what matters,
not some list of ten commandments that an old fool wrote and
everybody accepts as law. Shit, now days if you said God spoke to
you on a mountain top, they would lock you up as a lunatic. Jim taught
us differently. Hippies in the 60's had a saying. "If it feels good,
do it" Well, I do, and guess what? I feel great!"
There were just too many wrongs in Rita's thinking for Tara to point out
and she knew that this story did not have a happy ending or they
would not be here, so she quietly waited.
Now, when she continued, Rita's voice took on a sad, wistful tone.
"So, there we were. Living in the penthouse, learning more from
Jim than I ever knew possible and, I believe, achieving my destiny.
He was preparing us to lead. He was teaching us the way to worship
the supreme omnipotence of Satan. He commands blood, Tara.
Blood sacrifice. To prove ourselves worthy, we have to be willing
to offer him what he wants."
Tara took in a deep breath and blew it back out.
"So that's it? You brought me here to kill me?"
Rita threw her head back and barked out a full laugh that caught
Tara totally off guard.
"Don't be silly. Do you honestly think we came to L.A., watched you
for two months and brought you here just to kill you? No, Tara, you
are much too special for that."
Rita again, lovingly caressed Tara's trembling body.
"As I was saying, things were perfect. Unfortunately, Jim was not.
It was the big 'C'. Cancer. He knew he was dying and that's why the
urgency to pass the crown. The last few weeks, we talked. Really
talked. As Satan's right hand, Jim was certain he could come back.
His body was spent but his mind and his allegiance to Satan would
live on. That's where you come in."
Tara shuddered. This was not going to be puppies and ice cream.
"Jim told me that when he died, it would be up to me to bring
him back. I needed to find a medium, a sensitive that could contact
his spirit. When contact is made, the spilling of virginal blood will
seal the pact and Satan will send Jim's thoughts into the body of the vessel.
Which, if you haven't figured it out, is you. You will bring messages from
Jim to his faithful. You will feel his power. You will understand that
Satan is the one true God!"
Rita's voice was now light and bubbly, almost as if she expected
Tara to be excited and happy with her.
"Bbbut, why me?" Tara's voice was quiet.
"There isn't anything I can do."
Rita was charged, energized.
"Oh, but there is. See we tried other girls but they didn't know the
Rita was slightly concerned. Tara should have known. If she was
really the one, wouldn't she know?
"The password. When Jim's body died, he whispered it to me. It was
how I would know that medium really made contact. The others
guessed but, unfortunately, they bled out before they got it right, so
apparently, they weren't the one."
"IIIII, ddon't think......I can't make contact."
Suddenly, Tara got an idea that might buy her some time.
"I can't do it without something from the deceased. I need to hold
something from the person I'm making contact with."
Rita jumped to her feet and squealed.
"I knew it! I knew you were the right one! No problem. We have
something better than an old comb or a shirt. LOOK!"
In one fell swoop, Rita snatched the black blindfold from Tara's
face. Squinting in the bright light, Tara's eyes quickly focused and
she turned her face to where Rita pointed.
There, sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the room was the
rotting, decomposing body of Jim Jones.