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My Bloody Valentine

Page 11

by Multi-Author


  “Rae, where have you been? Why did you leave?” Questions tripped over themselves on his tongue, when all he wanted to do was take her in his arms.

  Her voice was sad. “I cannot stay upon the land. My home is beneath the waves. When the daylight touches the sand I must leave.”

  He stared at her in amazement, feeling like he’d stumbled into a fairy tale. Yet he’d always known that she was unlike anyone he’d known in his own dull world.

  “I can’t lose you again,” he said desperately. “If you can’t stay on the land, then let me come with you.”

  Joy lit her face and she held out her white arms. Ciaran stepped into them, feeling her cool lips touch his. Contentment spread over his body as they sank beneath the waves.

  ***

  The old man was walking his dog when he found the body. Washed up against the rocks, the young man’s body was battered and bruised. Yet an expression of complete peace was on his smooth features. The old man shook his head as he called the authorities. Such a waste, and it wouldn’t be the first time.

  “Yes, police and ambulance. I’ve found a body at Siren’s Bay.”

  Feral

  By

  Decadent Kane

  Dace leaned against the willow tree, the only one in a hundred miles. The limbs swayed in the light breeze, causing the leaves’ dance to be mirrored in the lake below. They whispered to his soul, calming the boiling rage he tried so hard to hide. The willow grew right in the middle of town and even at night, he couldn’t escape their disapproving stares. Elves. They were high on themselves. Watching him like a science experiment gone wrong, waiting for him to screw up. On some level, Dace was glad the feral had taken him. It wrapped its blackened rage around him and squeezed. He was lost to them all and, once the feral consumed body, mind, and heart, he would kill for the sheer rush, sucking out their souls to stay alive with the disease eating away at him. He was no longer an elf by their standards, and he liked it better that way.

  In a way, he couldn’t wait for the disease to kill his heart. It was the last thing left before he turned forever into a drow, a tormented, devilish elf cast out of society to live in the undergrounds, to prey on those who persecuted them. The drow were the evil side of every elf. The disease that turned them always came eventually, faster for a male than a female. There was only one cure; unfortunately, it was different for each elf.

  His heart constantly fought back, holding out. It tried to keep him sane, allowing the guilt of what he’d done to eat at him. He’d slipped off the wagon more than once in his attempt to stay good, to stay clean. At the moment, he’d been clean for near a full moon’s cycle. The longest he’d been in years. But the rage bubbled up, blackening his skin and whitening his eyes. It was there, snapping at him, trying to break free. The sun no longer welcomed him, so he came to the tree at night.

  “Let’s look at the lake. It’s beautiful here at night.” A female spoke from around the other side of the tree.

  “Not a good idea, it’s late and you know who is always there at night. What if he’s there now?” another female asked.

  He turned in the direction of their voices. All he saw were darkened silhouettes springing toward him. Startled by the intrusion, he climbed up into the tree to avoid having to speak to them, or see the pity that might be in their eyes. Women always held pity.

  “Don’t be such a cricket, you can’t hide from him. No one can. Plus, I hear he’s been good for a full cycle. Nothing to worry about.” The first woman came into view. Dace squatted on the limb. Her hair was braided long, messy to the side, and black as far as he could tell. The other girl had short blonde hair spiked up in the back.

  “I’m not a cricket, Nova. The danger is real.” The blonde slinked up close to Nova and looked over her slender shoulder.

  “Look, he’s not here.” Nova turned in a circle, her dress twisting around with her, billowing out and falling back into place when she stopped. “Listen to me, Sadie. I’ll protect you.” She put small hands on Sadie’s arms and gave a squeeze. Nova was short for an elfess and to his surprise, pretty. Intrigued, he leaned in closer as they moved to the bank of the lake almost out of hearing range. If the breeze stayed calm, he’d be able to keep listening in. He pulled back.

  What was he doing? Elves didn’t intrigue him; they pissed him off. She pissed him off. Why should he be hiding from them? He jumped down from the limb, landing gracefully with a thud, on both feet, like a cat.

  The women jumped and he let a wicked grin play over his lips. He wanted them afraid. He wanted them to leave him alone. This was his spot. His peace. “Leave.” His voice came out low and dangerous.

  Nova moved in front of Sadie. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “We can be here if we want.”

  “Nova! Let’s go.” Sadie pulled at her friend’s arm.

  “Good idea, cricket, run. Perhaps I won’t eat you tonight.”

  “She doesn’t have to leave. Stay, Sadie. He isn’t going to do anything.”

  He clenched his jaw; the elfess tried his damn patience. Where did she get off standing up to him? She should be running, afraid. Instead, her stubbornness turned him on; his cock bulged, straining against his black jeans. He was surprised. It had been a good long while since he’d bedded a woman. Before the feral. But he stood his ground. It amused him that she actually looked down at his crotch. He had no intention of hiding himself. Let her see he was attracted to her; perhaps her fear of what that implied would make her tuck tail.

  Sadie pulled harder on Nova’s arm, but she shrugged her off. “Go on. Head home if you like. But he has no right to run us off.”

  “I’ll get help.” Sadie let go and ran.

  “You should have gone with her, elfess.” He narrowed his eyes at her, hoping to intimidate her with their color. She didn’t flinch, so he closed the distance between them in two long strides. Her dark eyes widened and she took a single step back. Good. He grinned.

  “Don’t you dare touch me.” Her face hardened. He watched her jaw work, grinding her teeth, and her hands curled into tiny fists. He almost laughed. What would she do with those?

  His body leaned in and, without her permission, he grabbed her chin in his grip and held her in place as his mouth descended on her, quick enough that she couldn’t stop him right away. The sudden urge to feel those pretty pink lips pressed to his overwhelmed him. Momentarily, she complied, her warm lips parting slightly and as he dipped his tongue in her mouth, then she bit down.

  ***

  The feral elf flung himself backwards to get away from her retaliating teeth. He had no right! Nova’s thoughts screamed in her head. He’d surprised her when he kissed her. He deserved the nibble. He should feel elfing glad that she didn’t slug him instead. She wiped the spit from her mouth. “What the elf was that? Are you mental?”

  He laughed. “I’m feral, I think mental is implied, Nova.”

  Enjoying the adrenaline rush from being so close to someone dangerous held her in place. She cocked a hip. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

  “Dace.” He ran a hand along the front of his jeans, drawing her sight to his hard-on. He was so blatant about it and while she should be terrified, something deep inside believed he wouldn’t harm her.

  Feeling brave, she said, “Care to try that again?” Her panties moistened at the thought. He could kill her, rip out her soul, and she was getting wet at the idea of the risk.

  He inhaled sharply, as if he smelled her desire, and was on her in seconds, turning her back to the willow and backing her up until she found herself trapped between his solid chest and the tree. His mouth devoured hers and her heart thundered for more. His hands slid up her hips and pulled down her dress. They were so warm on her bare skin and it was as if her whole body ignited for him. Her nipples hardened, her clit throbbed, waiting for more. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to appease the ache of her pussy, the want she couldn’t hide. The yearning came on so quickly she didn’t have t
ime to contemplate it. His hand found her mound. His finger flicked over her clit and continued south.

  Her breath caught as she waited for him to penetrate her, fill her up with his fingers. He toyed with her instead. Circling around the outer side, slicking her juices up, teasing her clit from its hood. Pushing her hips against him, Nova felt his cock hard and wanting against her stomach. He was still dressed and her mind screamed to set his prick free. Her hands came up to undo his pants. He pulled back from the kiss, enough to look into her eyes. White irises locked her in as fingers pushed inside her pussy, stretching her with the pleasure of being filled. She gasped.

  “Don’t you dare close your eyes. I want to watch you as I fuck you with my fingers, Nova.” His words whispered over her lips, tormenting her as he slid in and out of her cunt.

  “Hey, get off her, you animal!” A man’s voice barged in on her pleasure. Dace was ripped from her body. Men from the neighborhood were gathering, running towards them. The one who spoke had a hold of Dace’s shirt from the back. His head darted around Dace’s larger form. She didn’t know the elf, but she felt Dace’s anger consume him. It rolled off him in hot waves as he turned on the man.

  “Animal? I’m feral, not an animal, bird shit. And your soul is mine.”

  In front of Nova and most of the town, Dace wrapped large arms around the man and breathed deeply. A white mist came off the other elf and shimmered as it hung suspended between the two. “That, elf, is your soul.” Dace opened his mouth and the white mist was sucked up inside him. He let go of the man, who crumpled in a pale heap to the ground. “Who’s next?”

  Everyone backed up. He was clearly as lost as any other feral elf. Sadness clutched at Nova’s heart. She’d hoped that maybe since he hadn’t hurt anyone, there’d be goodness in him.

  “How about I pick? This is what you wanted, right? To believe the worst of me? Let me show you all.” Dace smiled and tore off his clothes. His skin was charred black and red swirls etched in his flesh grew hotter as his anger increased.

  Nova’s hands shook as she slipped out of her clothes. Everyone looked from her to him, but he hadn’t noticed her yet. She had no idea if she was making the right decision, but she needed to try something and his cock hung out there, waiting. Perhaps she could distract him long enough for everyone else to run. He’d devour her, she knew, but then Nova wasn’t really afraid of that or him. Wasn’t earlier and refused to be now. Sadie caught her eye and a tear rolled down her friend’s cheek. She shook her head, her eyes pleading for Nova to stop. But Nova couldn’t. It was the town’s only chance.

  “Take me.” Her voice came out strong and determined. But her heart protested in her chest, running in rapid beats. She slid a hand up his blackened skin; it fell off in tiny pieces like burned leaves. The breeze pulled the pieces up and they danced slowly in the air around them.

  With sad eyes, Dace picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him. He penetrated her wet pussy. Pushing her onto his shaft, burying himself to the hilt. He felt hot inside her and her muscles tightened around him as he slid in and out at a fast pace, increasing her pleasure with white-hot strokes. She felt the rise of her orgasm as it hovered. His cock teased her g-spot at a steady pace, encouraging her. Dace’s mouth came down upon hers. He rocked his hips, rubbing against her swollen clit, and her orgasm crested, rolling in a wave over her heated flesh. Dace growled as his own orgasm overtook him. Nova watched as his skin slowly turned to a light peach color and he fell to his knees still inside her. She had been his undoing.

  The Shed

  By

  Brantwijn Serrah

  Rebekah was watching him.

  She played it cool: lounging on the porch, mulling over tea, holding it to her lips to blow on it. She was watching him, though.

  Reid worked in his yard, trenching weeds. He was shirtless and shamefully beautiful, but that wasn’t why she paid attention. He’d brought the weed twister from the house. It might not be so strange, except he’d installed a perfectly new shed, near the path down to the river. Rebekah had been summering there for years. Gardening was handled between renters, and by gardeners who brought their own tools. Reid had put in the shed when he bought the property, planning to tend the yard himself. So why store tools in the laundry room?

  He caught her staring and his dark brown eyes narrowed. As he lifted an arm to brush his blond hair from his eyes, he did not look amused. Rebekah blinked and looked away. Was it her imagination, or did he thrust the weed twister into the soil with a little extra force this time?

  She should be thrilled to find her new neighbor was a looker, with a strong summer tan and a delicious, lithely muscled grace. She’d seen him at the river, sparkling water on his skin, swim trunks clinging. He wasn’t very nice, though. When they’d met he’d only given a polite hello over the fence. This early in the season they were the only people in the area; it was a shame he wasn’t friendlier. It had all been well and good, though.

  Until the screaming.

  It had shaken her out of her sleep—desperate screams from the river. At first, Rebekah thought someone was hurt or drowning; she’d risen in a panic to run down to the bank. It wasn’t visible from her yard—she had to snake down a winding foot-path and duck under tree branches to look out over black, glassy water.

  Nobody. She ran her flashlight over the surface, afraid the screamer had slipped beneath the water. Another scream rose, wild and hoarse.

  Rebekah whirled. It came from behind her.

  In her yard.

  The idea paralyzed her. It took several moments—and another anguished cry—to drive her back up the bank, flashlight shaking.

  Nobody in the yard. She stood, dumbfounded.

  Then she jumped as another sound—a violent thump—came from nearby.

  From the shed.

  She stared. Another thump. She heard rough cries, and then...begging?

  Enough. She raced inside to call the police.

  When they came, she craned her neck to try and see out the window as they knocked on Reid’s door. There were trees in the way, but she caught the slant of light when Reid opened his door.

  The police spoke with him. Did she hear a woman’s voice? One of the cops? Reid gave a chuckle, and the officers returned it. Then they went back to their car. The door shut. Everything was quiet.

  Rebekah stared.

  What had he said? Maybe that he’d had the TV up too loud? That he’d forgotten he had a neighbor to be bothered by the noise?

  A horrible thought crossed her mind. She’d called 911 anonymously—it seemed smart—but, of course, who else would have heard the screams anyway?

  And thumping. It had come from the shed.

  What had he been doing?

  By morning, she decided she’d been mistaken. She went into the yard in sleepy distraction, searching for a warm spot of sun. There was a sudden bang, and she jumped.

  Reid stood in the doorway to the shed, a cleaning rag in hand.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “Wind makes it bang sometimes.”

  That was it. No apology. No confrontation over the cops. He kicked the door shut and walked away.

  ***

  There were more screams—and moans—three nights later. Rebekah called the police again; though they assured her of an officer, none came. Now, as Rebekah watched him tearing up weeds, she made up her mind. She had to find out what Reid was doing.

  She waited until he went to the river; he liked night swimming, she’d noticed. He’d be away awhile; she hurried over the fence.

  Rebekah crept to the shed and tried the door.

  It swung out. Inside...pitch black.

  “Hello?” Rebekah whispered. She inched farther, searching for the light.

  She shivered: what if she turned on the light and found—

  She groped blindly. Why hadn’t she brought her flashlight?

  An arm reached past her, tugging the chain of an overhead bulb. Rebekah shrieked and spun, backing up until she hit s
omething hard and had to halt.

  It was Reid. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” Rebekah squeaked. Reid took a step toward her and she flinched.

  All he did was lean close. She sensed one hand rest on the surface behind her.

  “Well, now,” he rumbled. “Feeling left out?”

  “What?” she whispered, glancing up. Reid smiled. It was a hungry, cocksure look. Though he was still dripping from the river, he gave off a palpable heat.

  “If you’re interested in my shed,” he murmured, “I’ll happily show you around.”

  Her heart thumped. She stared at him and then she looked around. The shed was very clean, the walls sturdy and lined with—

  Oh.

  Her eyes went wide. No wonder the tools stayed in the house.

  There were toys, some impeccably lifelike, some stylized. Some appeared to have multiple uses. A rack held a paddle lined with fur, a leather crop, and a mean horsewhip next to another made from soft cords. There was a sex swing and a stand with shackles at the top and bottom.

  Above her dangled two steel bracelets, hooked to the wall. She’d backed against a table, where Reid could—

  “Oh!” she gasped, coloring. “I’m so sorry! I thought—”

  He took her wrists and raised them, clear with his intentions as he coaxed her hands into the bracelets and made her take hold of the chains. Their bodies were nearly touching as he stared into her eyes, dropping his grip.

  He hadn’t closed the bracelets. This was her chance to refuse.

  She only stared back, silent.

  “What to do with a nosy girl?” he mused. He closed the cuffs, giving her plenty of opportunity to say no. She didn’t.

  He slid his hands to her hips and turned her around.

  “I think...a spanking.”

  His open palm came down on her ass, stinging through pajama bottoms, and Rebekah yelped. He gently rubbed the cheek where he’d hit her.

  “How’s that?” he whispered.

 

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