WARNING! This page contains adult material. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by adult themes, please leave now.


The Acolyte
Copyright 2007 by Mary Harris [aka redplanetes]

Chapter 5

Mena sat curled in a little alcove she'd discovered on the school's front. It was nestled halfway up the wall between two buttresses, and perfect for stargazing. Warmth oozed from the concrete she crouched on, half-reclining. Tiny bats darted and swooped noiselessly, flickers of darkness against the stars. The crescent moon hung low, ivory-tinted as it neared the horizon. A bright star hung in the sky in line with the moon's concave face. Artemis... Huntress. She stetched one arm out and pulled the other up to her ear, miming drawing a bow and arrow.

Her mind wandered. Twenty-four hours. That's the only distance between who I was yesterday and who I am now. There's no way I can be the same person I was. I can't unsee - him. Those teeth. Bodies torn apart. Bright, beautiful blood. Smell of rage and joy... is that what they call bloodlust? No, I must be something - changed. Now that I've killed. Now that I've seen.

Sound of footsteps approaching; Aunt Hel and the monster walking side by side down the hill. Mena's heart did a slow turn. Just seeing the creature walk past made her feel like a swooning schoolgirl, crushing on some impossibly perfect and hopelessly unattainable boy. She slapped herself mentally, trying to get a grip on her confused reactions. While not exactly ugly, she still thought the creature was somewhat jarring, kind of hard to look at. Also, after today, she knew how truly scary and deadly he was. And he wanted her.

The strange couple walked quietly and purposefully down a weedy slope, disappeared abruptly into the shadow of the trees. They moved as though two halves of the same person; all day they had shared a silent bond, communicating with looks and small gestures. Mena felt slightly left out, and was pierced by a tiny stab of jealousy as her inner voice whined, why can't I have something like that? To be so well matched that you are two of a mind; it was a concept she'd sneered at before as a sad figment of adult imagination, but now her perspective had changed drastically, and shown her the disturbing truth.

The slowly drifting stars snagged her attention, and the turmoil of her thoughts became hazy. Time slide by effortlessly, marked only by the disappearance of stars behind the rim of the building. The constellations hypnotized her, made cryptic gestures. She wondered if they were seeing this, surely stars didn't usually do this. I wonder where they went... A bright green meteorite streaked across the edge of her vision. Her heart raced. I wish...

A twig snapped in the woods. Mena opened her eyes, having fallen asleep for a few seconds. It was pitch dark out, and she had to turn her head and watch out of the corners of her eyes, alert for changes between one kind of shadow and another. A dark shape emerged from the trees, walked with a familiar limp towards the schoolbuilding.

"Aunt Hel...?" Mena called out softly.

"...yeah," drifted up from the distance.

The girl waited as her aunt finished the climb, turned, and reclined against the sloping buttress. They gazed at the sky in silence.

"What a - lovely night." Helen breathed, almost sang, as though to herself. Mena was struck by the terrible sincerity in her aunt's low voice. The girl could smell something different; Aunt Hel's hair was wet, her clothes damp, and not with sweat. After another period of quiet contemplation, Helen spoke again. "There's a creek at the bottom of the hill. If you want a real treat, follow it up a ways. Though... you might want to save that until it's light. Those woods are a bit thick... -Ah!" Mena looked over at the soft, sharp exclaimation; Helen was peering off into the distance, eyes glittering.

A shadow came and went over the landscape, approaching, skimming the surface of fields and low thickets. Not until it was almost at the schoolhouse did Mena register what the shadow was; the wide-winged creature, clutching a limp form in each arm. As it flew right up to them its wings made a huge whooshing lunge straight forward; in the same graceful movement they pulled back, folding, closing in against the body.

A frozen afterimage was burned into her mind - wings, wings like she couldn't have imagined; his eyes, reflecting ominous bliss, his mouth... dripping blood. Teeth bared. A wolf after the kill. ...like my tattoo - oh shit, what does it mean? I refuse to be superstitious, but...somehow I don't think coincidence is the name for this. A tiny droplet of fear ran hesitantly down her spine.

While her mind struggled the creature had gone on down to the basement. Helen moved to follow, saying, "Come on down, if you like."

" 'kay," she called out, forcing her voice to steady. Mena sat back and tried to calm herself. Every time she saw the creature, she was more and more affected. As the monster had flown up she'd almost scrambled away, even while hoping it would dive straight at her. She was both repelled and attracted, enthralled by it like people are drawn to a train wreck, a horrible car accident. Well, I'll just have to get over it - I think we're going to be here for a while. She didn't waste any time debating it, swung her legs out of the alcove and walked quickly down to the cellar.

Her aunt and the monster sat on stools at a long workbench. Three kerosene lamps had been lit and hung over the space, giving it an oddly old-fashioned ambiance. Mena stood still for a moment, taking her bearings. Okay, not freaking out, things seem fairly normal. Well, as normal as subterranian lairs get. The creature was just the creature again, the one who earlier today was wearing clothes, driving, carrying an antique record player. Helen turned her head and saw the girl standing uncertainly, motioned her over to sit and watch.

The grey monster was carving a section of bone into something; the bone looked quite fresh. Mena leaned around her aunt to watch. It took only a few seconds for her to forget the peculiarity of the moment, and her own nervousness. Seeing the creature at work was a lesson in itself; like hearing a virtuoso play, there was no mistaking the talent. It carved its imagination into the bone with a will as indomitable as a mountain; even more so, because the creature's will would not crumble away after millenia. Tiny pale curls fell soundlessly to the floor.

* * * * *

The creature stayed at its table for hours, absorbed in a succession of projects. Helen had crashed for the night on a huge pile of discarded clothing, torn from victims. Mena made herself comfortable across the room, still not entirely at ease being left 'alone' with the monster, and watched quietly as it carved, humming to itself. After a time it would inspect its work, seem satisfied, and move on to a different task. With unlimited resources of energy, the creature didn't get sleepy, or bored, or frustrated. Sometimes it even paused in its fixated labors and hastily scratched or carved in the tabletop, as though driven to unleash all of its ideas immediately.

She was exhausted, her overworked mind demanded that she give up and sleep, but some jittery current continued to flow through her. It was as though the creature's nervous energy was spilling over and she was soaking it up. The sharp smell of blood and the silhouette of a winged monster weren't helping her relax, either. Need some privacy of mind... she thought groggily, and made her way back outside, to her stargazer's nest. As soon as she sat back and let the dark and bright sky embrace her, her eyes became heavy. Mena's body finally let itself relax, and her mind waved farewell, already on the journey of dreams.

Teethmarks on a bone. Wingbeat, leathery flap. A bright green meterorite flash, too bright to see, too enduring to be real. Blood spurting across the room, pooling on the floor at her feet. Smile - so many teeth - (don't scream until you see the whites of their teeth). What sharp teeth you have, Grandmother. Why Grandmother, you're a wolf! ...wolf, grinning.

An unnatural sound awakened her; a soft movement of air. She remained still, but scanned the starlit darkness. It was several slow-breathing minutes before anything registered to her wide-open eyes. In a neighboring field, a dark shadow moving low over the ground. It moved as silently and deftly as an owl, skimming the tall grass, then wheeling and passing back over the fallow ground.

Mena watched, entraced, as the shadow gracefully concluded its slow sweeps and returned to the schoolbuilding, descending and landing with ease, even with arms full of ...hay? The clean smell of dry grass wafted towards her, and she realized what she'd been seeing; the monster gathering grass, arms downstretched into the field. It hurried down to the basement and some project that couldn't wait. Her curiosity was sparked, but her weariness threw wet towels at it. In half a minute she was asleep again.

* * * * *

Though sun wasn't up, a grey, still twilight had awakened a dissonant chorus of birds. Mena gave up trying to block out the racket, began muttering, "shut up... assholes... go away..." After a time, knowing there'd be no more sleep, she cast a final deadly glare at the evilly cheerful troublemakers, and stumbled down to the cellar.

A huge pile of dry grass filled a corner. The monster was stuffing a handful of the aromatic hay into a limp sack of some kind... She looked again, and saw with a start that the sack was a human skin, sans body. Looks really weird and ...uncomfortable. The creature looked up, around to meet her gaze. It gave that disturbing grin. She almost giggled, swallowed it, making a strangled noise. He just looks so psycho, so happy! Like an H.R.Giger version of Betty Crocker, happily stuffing a turkey for dinner. The monster returned to its work, and Mena blinked. The crazy imagery was gone, the grey form of the creature a natural, familiar shape again. It had a way of blending into its environment, as long as it wasn't looking at you. She sat down on her heels against a pillar, watching the process, watching the monster's movements. It was patient, meticulous.

Mena realized her feet were asleep. She began to stand, quickly discovering that her lower legs were numb and useless, too. Stumbling over to the pile of grass as pins and needles ate at her muscles and nerves, she sat down heavily. "OW!" She stood back up twice as fast, a long thorn stuck in her jeans. The monster was shaking with silent laughter as she felt gingerly in the hay, found the cane, pulled it free. A blackberry cane, heavy with early ripe berries. Suddenly her humiliated anger dissolved, and she chuckled, looked over at the monster again. It was watching her out of the corner of its eyes, smirking impishly. Mena felt around in the grass again, pulled out several more canes before she was satisfied that the pile was thorn-free. "You. Aunt Hel said you were something of a prankster." "...or a sicko..." she said under her breath.

A decent pile of blackberry canes now lay before her, and seeing them all together, she realized what a nice crop of berries there was. The urge to just start picking and eating was tempered when she looked over at her aunt, still asleep. Well, I can wait awhile, and then we'll have breakfast together. She made a cozy nest in the de-thorned hay and reclined in fragrant tendrils. Her eyes were inexorably drawn back to the creature, still absorbed in sewing and stuffing, bubbly and domestic in its Ed Gein way.

Bright sunlight eventually crept through the open basement doors, and the room became warmer. A groan emerged from the multicolored pile where Helen lay; minutes later she sat up and scowled, then opened her eyes and blinked slowly. As her eyes focussed and she saw her creature putting the final touches on a stuffed body, she beamed.

Mena came over, carefully holding a thorny branch. "Hungry?" Helen got a closer look, realized what they were. She squealed with glee, glanced up at the girl. "You're an angel! Where'd you find them?" The girl sat, began picking and eating. "Not me. Him." She indicated the monster with her head. "I think he accidentally-on-purpose brought them in with a very cushy pile of hay..." The wry tone of the girl's voice told Helen that the creature had played a little prank.

"Well, didn't I tell you? Some things are worth a little pain."

Mena laughed through a purple mouthful. "Let's see you go sit on them, then!"

When it had finished posing its new display, the creature found the chalkboard and came to crouch near Helen. Mena stared, fascinated, as it clumsily scrawled out a message.


Helen stood and stretched, glanced over at the girl. "Shall we?" Mena nodded rapidly. Excitement, adventure, and really wild things... whatever happened around this weird grey guy, it was guaranteed to be the opposite of boring. The creature had dressed in its shabby disguise again, and walked with a jaunty air up to the surface.

Once again they piled into the rusty old truck and bounced back to the highway. The creature seemed to have a specific destination in mind, and mashed a booted foot down on the gas pedal, sending the truck barreling down the road. Mena felt the easy roar of the engine, wondered about this creature's seemingly endless supply of practical knowledge and hobbies. "You might like my car. It's souped-up a bit, too." Her heart did a skip as the monster glanced over. Helen studied them both for a moment. "Let's swing by later, Mena and I'll get her car. I can remember how to get back to the schoolhouse." The creature nodded, then began whistling a tune absently. Mena bit her lip to keep from giggling.

They arrived at an industrial complex on the forgotten outskirts of a once-thriving town. Some business still struggled on now, but many of the warehouses were obviously unused. The creature rolled the truck slowly between the rows of sad buildings, came to a stop in front of a rust-stained garage door that read 'P RTS & ERV CE - Au h riz d P rs nnel Onl '; some of the letters had peeled away to leave dirty silhouettes. There was a heavy chain and two padlocks around the bar that held the door in place. The monster took the chain in one hand, slowly twisted the heavy links until they squealed and groaned, then broke apart with a series of dull clunks. Blood drained from Mena's face as it hit her how little effort it had taken.

Inside the warehouse was dark, greasy-smelling, and crowded with leftover machinery. Helen and Mena poked around in the daylit area near the door, searching for anything useful or interesting. A metallic screech echoed from across the dark space; seconds later, heavy footsteps approached from the shadows. The monster had a large machine cradled in its arms; a machining lathe and grinder. The sheered-off bolts that once held it to the floor now dangled useless from their brackets. Helen nodded in approval; this meant some serious weapon-making could be in the near future. She opened the back door of the truck, then stepped aside so the creature could load its find. It gently set the lathe down; the back axle's springs groaned loudly in protest as the whole rear end of the truck sank several inches. Mena peeked inside, and was frozen at the sight of the bizarre armory within. "Whoa, nellie..." Tenatively looking over the lethal collection, she had the sensation of being a pet chicken, seeing the chopping block across the yard and finally realizing what it was for.

The monster returned to the shadows, coming back shortly with a large bundle of tools under one arm. A toothy smile floated back towards the doors, disembodied by the darkness before the rest of the creature's form came striding into the light. Cheshire cat, thought Mena.

The monster drove more carefully but just as fast, as it continued to where Mena's car was hidden. Helen spoke briefly with the creature, then the truck pulled away to disappear in the distance. "Let's swing by my house," she said, giving Mena a thoughtful look. "We can grab lunch, relax a bit." The girl backed her car out of its leafy cover and sprayed dirt and rocks in an arc, squealing back onto the pavement.

* * * * *

The fan made a creaky circuit back and forth, the only movement in the still afternoon. After a huge lunch the porch had called out to them, tempting with its cushy chairs and the only breeze to be found. Mena lay sprawled in sated comfort, voiced question that had been nagging at her mind all day. "How did he know what was in that warehouse? It didn't look like a guess that the lathe and stuff were in there."

"Probably smelled it."

Mena looked over at her aunt, but it didn't seem to be a joke.

"He can smell everything." Helen leaned forward, put her elbows on her knees. "He likes your smell."

Mena swallowed. Her ears began to burn. Is she going to tell me to stay clear of him? Shit, I screwed up my visit already. She didn't look mad last night, but maybe she is...

"No, it's ok." Aunt Hel seemed to have read her thoughts. "I'm glad of it. If he didn't like you, you'd be dead."

The girl attempted to smile in response. Well, that's comforting, heh...

"And you like him, too, don't you?"

Mena smiled, couldn't hide the blush from her face, or the lecherous curl of her mouth. "Well, how could I not?"

"I just want to caution you what you're in for." Aunt Hel seemed to be completely serious, though she was grinning mischievously. "Once you've had him you'll be spoiled. Do you understand what I'm saying?" The girl blinked, unsure. Helen continued, "Why do you think I never even took a lover? I tried a couple of men over the years, but they just pale in comparison." She trembled faintly for a moment, smiled ever so slightly. "No, they just wouldn't do. They're so fucking fragile, and they invariably want a mommy..." she muttered, sneering.

Mena chewed on her lip, wanting to ask a thousand questions, but this was a birds and bees talk that she never could have imagined. She was being encouraged to boink her Aunt Hel's 'man', who wasn't actually a man, and who would apparently leave her a permanent fangirl. In her flustered confusion, one question dropped out like a Lotto ball. "Is he safe?"

Helen laughed so hard she almost fell out of her chair. "Safe... hmm." She recovered her breath and wiped the tears from her eyes, then pulled her shirtsleeve up over the shoulder. There on the round outer curve was a pair of ragged bite scars. The tooth pattern was disturbingly familiar. The woman lowered her sleeve, pulled up her shorts to show the more recent deep scratches and gouges, scabbing over from the night before. "Well, I'm pretty sure he really tries not to do any permanent damage. He bites, involuntarily I think."

Mena tried to hide the shock from her face. This hadn't even occurred to her as a possibility, but after all, he was a monster... She tried to rephrase her question. "Um, ok, but I actually meant ...safe, as in - safe..."

"Ohhhh!" Helen chuckled. "You mean, could you get preggers, or monster disease or something like that?"

The girl nodded sheepishly; it did sound pretty stupid, but she didn't want to take chances.

"You have nothing to worry about, he's not a breeder. Even if he got some nuts, I don't think it could happen..." Huhh? Mena thought, but her aunt was going on. "I'm not sure if I can explain..., but you'll understand later." Helen looked off into the distance, daydreaming. She sighed deeply, then turned back to the girl. "And you won't want to wear any clothes that you actually like around him... he, uh, doesn't do undressing very well. Or shall we say, he does it too well. I've just gotten used to sewing them back together."

A flash of a clawed hand ripping fabric from her body flickered through Mena's imagination, making her heart race.

* * * * *

They returned to the schoolhouse in the late afternoon, after packing a few extra things. Mena had the strange feeling she was preparing for a big date, the date of a lifetime, but one that possibly could leave her scarred, literally and/or figuratively. She didn't particularly relish the thought of being ruined for all others at the age of eighteen. To be unsatisfied with anyone else for the rest of my life, that would suck. Especially when he won't be around for a couple of decades. Then again... someone who can do that to you... it's too irresistable to pass up. And who the hell would ever be able to satisfy me anyway? I've already suspected I'll have a hard time finding my rival.

The monster had unloaded its new machine and was busy grinding a long blade. Sparks flew in an orange jet, and the noise was deafening. Helen inspected some of the new tools with interest, shouted to make herself heard. "Do you know how to make your own knives?" The girl shook her head. Helen set the tools back down, took her niece's arm to guide her back up, outside. "I'll show you how later. For now, I thought you might like to see that surprise I mentioned last night, hmm?"

Mena was confused for a moment, thought back. A creek, ...treat uphill. "Yeah!" She brought a change of clothes at Helen's suggestion, and they set off down the hill to the woods.

* * * * *

Mena strolled up the weedy hill at twilight, deliciously relaxed. She ran fingers through her still-wet hair, wondered if the smell of sunlit spring water would remain after it dried. Aunt Hel had shown her a jewel in the wilderness; a tiny pool of clear blue-green glass, hidden among cattails and willows. Lounging in that cool water was like visiting Eden, but as the sun had sunk low, she had finally pulled herself out, dressing in clean clothes. A pair of durable hiking shorts; an Elly May shirt, frayed but comfortable; her boots and the little boot knife. All her other weaponry was neatly tied up inside the bundle of dirty clothes.

She noticed that the monster's truck was now parked alongside her Mustang, and both hoods were up. A combination of pride and possessiveness rolled through her; she was pleased that the monster was interested in her car, and hoped it wasn't messing with anything at the same time. Mena descended the steps into the basement, looking around to see if there was anything new and interesting as she dropped her bundle by the wall. A single kerosene lantern was burning, casting dim yellow light on the two body-sized shapes lying still. A few feet away, another body, partially unwrapped from a crusty canvas tarp, sitting up, holding his head. A live one! She stopped to watch the man, not ready to be seen yet, and wondered absently where the others were.

The man was wearing dark blue coveralls, and stank of brake fluid. She could read the faded lettering on his back - Charlie's Garage and Towing Service. "...fffuck... gotta be shittin' me..." the man mumbled, rubbing his forehead with a bloody hand. Finally waking enough to drag open his eyes, he realized he was not in his garage, slowly raised his head. Several seconds later his disoriented mind registered what his eyes were seeing. A carny display of freakish bodies, some homicidal hillbilly's secret hobby. "Fuckin' Christ!" his voice broke into a falsetto shout, and he leapt up, stumbling back as his feet caught in the canvas around his legs. The man's dirty blond hair stuck out in unlikely directions, his head jerked back and forth, spilling new vistas of the chamber of horrors into his bugged-out eyes. He whimpered; it sounded like a girlish giggle.

Mena couldn't help it, and giggled herself, stifling it too late. The man's head snapped around, his eyes locked onto her. The irreversible intensity of his stare unnerved her. He looked at her for half a minute, as though trying to work out if she was real and who she was, then stomped over to her, his face changing to anger and disbelief.

She read the embroidered oval sewn to the front of his coveralls, smiled at the man. "What do you call a man with no arms and no legs in a swimming pool?"

The man gaped stupidly, his stubbly chin hanging open, eyebrows drawn together.

"Bob!" Mena shouted. Bob jumped slightly. He didn't seem to appreciate the joke, and his mouth twisted unpleasantly like an angry snake, giving the girl her only warning. She began to raise her arm just as Bob threw his fist out. The blow was deflected, but still struck her in the side of the head.

Now anger surged through Mena's blood, and a warning frost of fear. This 'Bob' is panicking, and dangerous. She tried to reach for her boot knife before he struck out again. Her hand was just closing on it as he threw himself at her, knocking her to the ground. The little knife fell from her grasp at the impact, skittered away a couple of feet. Bob was trying to put his hands around her throat, managed to grip her neck and bounce her head against the hard floor once. She fought to grab hold of his wrists, move them away. One of the hands loosened, slid down to roughly grab her breast.

Rage made the room quake in her vision, and an icy flood of strength poured into her. She clamped a hand down on each of his wrists, digging her fingernails in. Mena swung the man off balance and let him hit the floor hard, then grabbed her boot knife and kneeled on his diaphragm. She lowered her snarling face to his gasping one, holding her knife snugly against his throat, her other hand winding into his hair, getting a secure grip.

"You don't dare, bitch..." he wheezed out, and tried to grope her again, crudely clutching at her shirt, ripping it.

The wave of fury swept up, moving her muscles; she pressed the knife into resisting flesh. So much blood; his gurgling screams... all floated away behind a dark fog. Her body seemed to have moved off into the distance, slowly it returned to her.

Mena was straddling the mostly dead man, breathing deeply, her hands and face splashed with blood. She suspected from the tingling in her extremities that she'd blacked out for a few seconds. Tremors shook her body, and she seemed to be running on endorphins, felt almost giddy. Her nerves were amped up to eleven. She felt a breath in her hair. Turned her eyes - the creature, leaning over her.

It was too much for her subconscious mind; she was under siege from all sides. Her knife lashed out before she could stop herself, gashing the monster across the chest. Horrified at what she'd done, she fell back and began to squirm away. Black fluid seeped out as the creature looked up in surprise. It easily overtook her and pinned her in place with its limbs, lowered its head to smell her again.

Her lips were numb, her heart pounding. Oh shit, I've done it now. One of those huge clawed hands trailed over her collarbone, down her sternum. She expected to feel piercing, tearing pain, sure that any second the claws would plunge into her ribcage. Her crosswired nerves, however, felt the nails gently grazing her skin, and she shuddered with pleasure. The hand stopped for a second; the creature inhaled deeply, then retraced the path over her collarbone and chest. This time she did not anticipate agonizing death, and feeling the touch from her teeth to her groin, she writhed. As she moved, her thigh nudged the monster's hardening organ.

A sudden cold shock swept over her as reality slammed home. She could hear and see sharply. Grey mottled flesh hovered over her, caging her with its limbs. Mena was angry and terrified; didn't like being restrained. Over its shoulder, wings twitched. Her breath caught as the creature's touch found a sensitive hollow, then it gave a shuddering sigh, and the hand that had teased her skin made a hook, popped the buttons of her shirt off in quick succession. The monster seemed fascinated, returned to caressing and probing. Every few seconds it would touch some delicate spot and she would jerk; it carefully repeated the touch a few times before moving on. Mena had the odd sensation that it was learning.

She couldn't avoid touching the strange grey skin any longer. She wanted to push the creature off her, at least get in a less intimidating position. One arm was unconfined and she raised it slowly, as if in a dream. The body was real, solid... and didn't feel remotely like human skin. As she ran her fingertips over the creature's wrinkly neck, her palm over its muscled, bumpy shoulder, the flesh reacted to her touch, moving beneath the skin. Goosebumps covered her entire body and she shivered, suddenly needed to touch that skin with as much of her own as possible.

Mena began yanking at her shorts, trying to get the button open. The creature saw her struggling, reached down it big bony hand. "No, don't..." she muttered, then realized it had gone still, was staring at her. She met its eyes; its look was predatory, ...deadly. It took the shorts in its grasp, torn them slowly away, holding her gaze. The message was very clear. She couldn't look away from its face, didn't dare move. Not safe, not safe at all...

The monster broke its stare and resumed exploring her body. It moved down slightly, pausing to rip her bra away, and licked tenatively at her breast. She jumped, felt the breath moving. The tongue probed again, nearer her nipple, and she gasped silently. Mena groped for the monster's head, palm settling gently against its bony scalp to push it towards her nipple. A peculiar movement of the skin under her hand - it writhed - then the monster's exploring mouth closed on her tender flesh and her body was electrified.

Every nerve in her body felt attached to that one small point, and was stroked at whimsy by the mouth, the tongue, the lips. The creature was breathing deeply, grasping her torso in both hands now, still straddling her body. The sensation of its very-hard cock twitching against her leg made her hips buck. It raised its head, a slow, crazy, dazed smile spreading. Mena felt the creature shift its weight quickly, press a knee between hers, then both knees. The grey monster sat up, kneeling, and pulled her hips up onto its lap, held her down with a firm hand. It pressed its throbbing shaft between her legs, rubbed the length of it up and down, spreading her slick moisture in the effort to get inside. Then the creature arched its back, and she had only a half second to think what was happening; then it was inside her, pushing into her with a steady and indomitable strength. The pleasure almost wiped out all thought, and she slowly raised her eyes to its face. It stared down at her with undiluted hunger as it drove itself deeply into her body.

Fear trickled over her scalp even as she moaned and her body twitched. Always before, she had been in control of any situation, the one who called the shots during sex. The shreds of her mind were aghast; she was completely at the mercy of this grey beast who was fucking her, not just getting off on her like most others had, but paying such undivided attention to her body's reactions that it practically owned her. The word 'possessed' floated across her mind's eye. I'd do anything, anything it wants...

The monster clutched at her, caressed her, goaded her. Its low growls and whines were lost in the rush of orgasm that crashed into her, leaving her gasping in a grey velvet haze. Mena's body thrashed and clenched against the monster's heaving form like a bug impaled on a pin.

She blinked hard, clearing her vision. The creature was hovering in her face, still staring at her. Dark fluid dripped from its mouth, she vaguely wondered why. It breathed deeply at her, nostrils flaring, chest filling and emptying. Aunt Hel... she tried to warn me. I was so naive... how could I have understood? She couldn't tear her eyes from the monster's gaze; she wanted that ravenous look always.

* * * * *

Helen walked wearily down the basement steps. The vehicle juggling had meant a little walk for her, and it had turned out to be farther than her aching hip cared to go. The last mile had been very slow and uncomfortable. Hope there's something to eat...

A small dark form lay huddled on the floor, shivering and twitching. Shit, shit, shit. "Mena?" No response. She bent down to examine the girl. The monster's ragged coat was thrown over her. Helen looked up. The creature was sitting on its heels, consuming a body a few feet away. She turned back to Mena, pulled the coat away, gasped when she saw how much blood there was. It covered her face and lower arms, but there was no sign of injury. The girl had her boots on, and the shirt sort-of on, but was naked otherwise. Helen tilted her head sideways, realized her niece was twitching with... laughter. Her eyes were half-closed, unfocussed. Helen covered her niece again, looked back at the creature. "What happened to her?"

It shrugged, blinked innocently. Helen raised an eyebrow. The monster saw that she actually wanted an answer, looked around, found the chalkboard plank.


Helen put a hand over her mouth, pensive for a moment. The creature's definition of 'few'... "A few? How many times?"

It responded unabashed, scrawling on the board.


Helen covered her face with her hand, and took a deep breath. "I said go easy on her, not fuck her senseless." The monster made an innocent face, wrote again.


- then pointed to '14 times'.

Helen groaned. "You really are very naughty." The creature answered with its wide, mischievous grin. She shivered; that look was enough to make her feel touched in secret places. The dark monster rose, strode over slowly to her like a bull with its head slightly lowered, its eyes fixed on hers. It grabbed her arms, pushed her into the shadows. "...very, very naughty..."

End of Chapter 5

Music for Chapter 5: 'You're Lost Little Girl' by Siouxie & The Banshees, 'Back in the Saddle Again' by Cafe Noir, 'Cool Water' by Frankie Lane, 'Warp Asylum' by White Zombie


The Acolyte and illustrations Copyright 2007 by Mary Harris [aka redplanetes]
~plagarists will be flayed alive~


redplanet@trinidadusa.net



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