Hello, all, in honor of Halloween, coming up soon, I thought I'd try my hand at an erotic ghsot story, with some of my favorite elements. THis is my first story in many years, do feel free to criticize. The first bit is a bit of background, but it will heat up in the second post. The turn of the last century was a time of great excitement. The Columbian Exposition in Chicago had shown the world the wonders of a new age, brought about by technology and industry. People spoke of the wonders of a new age. The very air seemed as filled with electricity as the wires that ran over the tops of people on the street, carrying light, heat, and new marvels of progress everyday. But the new century brought only unhappiness for Chris Ericson. The young man walled himself up in his estate, companioned only by a small staff that had been with the family for many years. In a sense, they were all the family he had left, and he barely knew them. Chris, an only child, had just turned 18 today, and two years to the day previously, had lost his mother and father when his father, a man who had made a fortune in copper mining, had been dedicating the new ore crusher at his smelting plant. The champagne that flowed from the broken bottle, swung against the iron beast by his wife, had flowed by capillary forces to the control panel below. The operator, being new to the wonders, and horrors, of the amazing new electrical energy which drove the beast, had neglected to kill the power. The machine had started when the controls had shorted by the wine , and his mother's long fur coat had caught on the conveyor, pulling her into the crusher. HIs father, desperate to save his wife, reached to far into the jaws, and was also pulled into the machine. Chris was away at bording school when the accident occured. He returned only to closed coffins, and platitudes and condolences. His father was an excellant corporate magnate, who had invested well, and diversified. His companies were well organized, and thiriving, even though the master of the ship had been lost. Chris inherited a massive fortune, the estate house, and all the wordly goods and poperties of the Ericson fortune. But he was alone, and he was lost. "Sir, cook is asking if there is anything special you would like for this evening's meal?". Chris didn't answer. "Sir?". Chris waved his hand at his butler, with a dismissive wave, and told him "anything will do". Chris siged, and shifted i the leather chair by the fireplace, shifting his six foot frame to a slightly different postion. He stared at the flames, and felt cold. He never felt warm anymore, just cold and empty. HIs thoughts were dark, in contrast to his nordic features. Typical of many of his swedish ancestors, he had the blond hair,, strong jaw, and well built frame of a well muscled athlete. His mother's contribution had been the full lips, the almost elfin look about the eyes and the high cheekbones. He also had increadible green eyes--bright green, so bright they almost glowed like polished jade. People would take one look at the young mans face, and be mesmerized by his beauty. WHen he laughed, it was like a waterfall of crystaline calrity and intensity. But no laughter had been heard on the house for a very long time, and the house itself seemd to sigh in sadness when the wind blew "Dinner is ready to be served, sir. Will you have it in the main dining room?". "No", Chris said, "Just a tray in here will be fine, Charles. And not too much, I'm not very hungry tonight". "You never are" , Charles said under his breath. Chris heard him, but chose to ifnore the comment. He just continued to stare into the fire, and wished to be anyone else. Charles brought the tray in, and asked if he could be of further service before he retired to the cottage in the grounds to the rear of the main house. "No, Charles, thank you. I won't be needing you anymore tonight". The butler gave a smal curt nod, and left the room. Chris made a half hearted attempt to eat, and managed a few bites before pushing the tray away. "Why?", he asked the crackling fire, but received no answer. He never did. Hypnotized by the flickering firelight, he dozed in the chair, and dreamt. OR was it a dream? He awoke to the same position he had been in before. Everything was the same except he felt.....warm. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt warm. He looked around, and let a small shiver run through him. He was warm, deliciously, sensuously, wonderfully warm. Not hot and sweating, but comfortably warm. I must be dreaming, he said to himself. He pinched himself, and felt the pain. Maybe not, he thought again. He also felt for the first time since that awful telegram had come to his school, a sense of peace.