by Ronald Kelly
The eighteen young men – half drunk and horny – whooped and hollered in reply as the bus left the familiarity of the open highway and began to descend deeper and deeper into unknown territory.
Tony nursed his can of beer quietly, choosing not to drink quite as freely as the others. He had almost talked himself into enjoying this brief adventure back in the high school locker room, but now he began to have reservations once again. This time it didn’t involve Pamela Sue. Rather, he thought back to the old tall tales and ghost stories that his Grandpa Frazier had told him when he was just a kid. Hackle-raising stories concerning an old house deep down in the south woods where a witch and her brood of daughters lived. The old man had been half-senile, so sometimes the details of his tall tales varied a bit. Sometimes he claimed the daughters were vampires, while other times he said they were ghosts who would suck the very life from a man if they got a hold of him. Tony shook the creepy stories from his head, telling himself they had been nothing but hogwash. More than likely the tales had been concocted by the menfolk of BedloeCounty, hoping to discourage curious children from exploring the vicinity of Whorehouse Hollow. It wouldn’t have done to have little Junior sneaking around the Eldritch house at night and accidentally catch a glimpse of his papa with his pants literally around his ankles.
Another half hour passed. The thick branches of the pinewood forest seemed to interweave over the roof of the bus, shutting out the nocturnal light of the autumn moon. The farther they traveled, the worse the trail became. The road of dusty red clay gradually deteriorated until it was only a couple of deep ruts surrounded by heavy thicket on each side. The group of boys grew uncommonly silent as the bus made several tricky, hairpin turns and then began to make an almost unnoticeable slope downward into the depths of a large hollow. As the Tennessee hills reared up on either side of them, the basin of the hollow grew steeper and steeper. The forest around them neglected to let up, too. Dead honeysuckle vines, thorny blackberry bramble, and prickly pine boughs scratched noisily against the windows of the school bus. A brawny linebacker named Bubba Stewart laughed somewhere in the back, but it wasn’t his usual mule-bray of witless mirth. Instead, it was a nervous laugh, much like that of a boastful child walking through a graveyard that he’s secretly frightened to death of.
Then, abruptly, the downward descent ended and the yellow diesel braked to a halt. “We’re here,” said Coach Winters. His liver-spotted hand reached out and gave the release handle a sharp yank. The bus’s folding doors opened with an unnerving squeal.
In single file, the Bedloe County Bears left the belly of the bus. Quietly, they gathered beneath the shelter of an ancient oak tree, eyeing the big house that stood before them. From the looks of it, it had probably once been one of the finest mansions in the state of Tennessee. It stood two stories tall, not counting its upper attic of four windowed gables, and stretched nearly the entire width of the hollow it sat in. A wraparound porch spanned the ground level and an ornately carved balcony encircled the upper story.
Yes, it would have certainly been a historical showplace, except that time and neglect had paid its toll on the big house. Its paint was peeling clear down to the bare wood, the glass of its windows was cracked and broken, and the roof looked as though it was sagging in places. Also the immaculate grounds that once surrounded the structure were nonexistent now. Thorny thicket and dense kudzu had encroached upon the property. It would have taken a bulldozer to clear away the amount of wild underbrush that surrounded the old Eldritch house.
The boys searched the windows for any sign of light, but none could be detected. Truthfully, the place appeared to be completely deserted.
“Fanny and her girls can only take thirteen at a time, so some of you boys will have to wait your turn,” said the coach. He snapped on the beam of a flashlight and picked out the lucky thirteen – Tony included – then led them through the bramble to the porch of the Eldritch house.
They were scarcely assembled before the front door, when it opened on creaking hinges. The soft glow of lantern light shown from within, causing the boys to squint against the sudden brilliance.
“Please, gentleman,” coaxed a husky voice. “Come on in.”
Tony turned and saw that Coach Winters had already left them and returned to where the other Bears anxiously awaited their chance. Being the leader of the team on the football field, Tony decided to take the first step inside. What he and the others found within the confines of the Eldritch house was in complete contrast to the decay they had encountered outside.
The floors were of polished marble, the walls decorated with priceless paintings and statuary, and the furniture, while antique, was the finest that money could buy. But that wasn’t what impressed the teenagers the most. No, not by a long shot.
Never in their young lives had they encountered so many beautiful women in one place. The BedloeCounty cheerleading squad couldn’t hold a candle to Fanny Eldritch and her twelve daughters. The matriarch herself certainly didn’t look her age, which must have been fifty years of age or older. Her hair was long and raven black, and her smooth, alabaster skin was totally devoid of age lines. Fanny’s daughters were just as striking as their mother. Each one was tall and willowy, and each possessed the same length of ebony hair and quality of pure unblemished skin. All thirteen women wore long gowns of white silk, sheer enough to give a hint of the perfect bodies that were hidden underneath.
“Welcome,” Fanny told them all. She eyed the young men in their red-and-white letterman jackets as if they were some sexual banquet to be sampled and savored. “We all know why you’re here, so why don’t we cut the formalities and get down to business.”
“Yes, ma’am!” declared Ricky Nolan, one of the Bears’ wide receivers. “We’re ready to party!”
Without another word, Fanny and her lovely daughters mingled with the members of the football team, choosing those they would spend the next hour or so with. Tony was surprised when Fanny herself walked up and took him by the hand. “Come with me, Mister Quarterback,” she breathed in his ear. “I have something special planned for you.”
Tony felt a lump form in his throat as he looked into the dark eyes of the middle-aged woman. The way that she stared at him made him feel light-headed, as if he had ridden some particular heart-pounding carnival ride one time too many. The feeling of mild disorientation bothered Tony a little, but he didn’t let it show. He returned Fanny’s sly smile and followed as the woman turned and led him up the curving staircase to the upper floor.
When he reached the upstairs landing, he glanced down and saw that Fanny’s daughters were doing the same, each woman leading one of his teammates to their own private rooms.
“Don’t drag your feet, handsome,” whispered Fanny, tightening her hold on Tony’s hand. “We have much to do this night.”
Tony nodded and followed her down the hallway to the very last door. Fanny opened it, revealing a richly furnished bedroom. Together, they walked to the huge canopied bed. With little effort, the madam of Whorehouse Hollow pushed Tony to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
“Just relax,” she told him. “Relax and let me do the rest.” Then Fanny reached up and, slipping the straps of her silken gown off her white shoulders, let the garment fall down the length of her body until it pooled around her feet.
Tony was captivated by the naked woman who stood before him. He had drooled over plenty of skin magazines during his teenaged years, but none of the air-brushed models on those glossy pages could compare to Fanny Eldritch. The woman, simply put, was utterly perfect. Despite her age, she seemed to possess the body of an eighteen-year-old. Her breasts were high and pert, and her arms, abdomen, and legs were tautly muscled and trim, like that of a prime athlete. As she gracefully stepped out of her gown, Tony found his attention glued to the triangle of raven black hair at the junction of her thighs. He felt himself become aroused at the sight of that secret place, the crotch of his jeans tightening in quick response.
&n
bsp; Then, a second later, she was there, scarcely a few inches away. Her warm hands reached out and cupped his face, then brought it up toward her. Tony opened his mouth as their lips meshed, allowing her tongue to entwine with his own. He felt an odd taste fill his mouth; the bite of cinnamon, as well as something else that he couldn’t quite identify. It wasn’t an unpleasant taste. In fact, as the kiss grew deeper and more passionate, Tony felt himself growing more relaxed, his inhibitions swiftly giving way to abandon.
But, before he could lose complete control, Pamela Sue’s innocent face again popped into his mind. Tony pushed the whore away, his breath ragged. “I … I’m sorry, ma’am … but I can’t.”
Fanny appeared to be amused. “Oh?” she asked. “And why not?”
Tony reddened in embarrassment. “Well, there’s this girl. I’ve been going with her for a while and … well, this just doesn’t feel right.”
Fanny reached out and stroked Tony’s strong face with a long-nailed hand. “It’s all right, handsome. You’re not cheating on your girlfriend. This is only one night out of an entire lifetime.” The woman cocked her head and pointed over her shoulder. “Listen. Hear how well my daughters are treating your friends? Sounds to me like they’re having plenty of fun.”
Tony listened. The hallways of the old house rang with the sounds of passion and pleasure; the moans and cries of both male and female, the jouncing of bedsprings as a dozen couples rutted like wild animals in heat. The sounds once again tore down Tony’s reluctance and he felt the keen thrill of sexual tension course throughout him, raising his adrenaline level to the max.
“I thought so.” Fanny laughed. Deftly, she dropped to her knees before the young quarterback, disengaged the zipper of his jeans, and released him from the discomfort that the denim caused.
At first, he felt the warmth of her breath upon his flesh, then the dampness of her mouth. He groaned out loud as she went to work with the measured precision of a machine. Tony cupped her head in his hands, slowing her pace, then quickening it, urging her on.
The pinnacle of climax was reaching its first stage, when Tony Frazier sensed that something was gravely wrong. First of all, the sensation of light-headedness had returned, much stronger than it had been before. He felt fear blossom in the back of his mind; as if he had lost control and was on the verge of losing something very dear and important to him. Then the physical sensation in his loins began to change drastically. The warmth of Fanny’s mouth disappeared. In its place was an engulfing coldness like that of a deep freeze. The icy sensation began to engulf his lower body, then climb steadily upward.
Tony wrenched at Fanny’s head, intending to disengage her from himself. But she was as stubborn as a leech. She refused to release him. A strange sensation threatened to overcome him at that moment. The feeling that some vital part of his soul was on the verge of tearing loose from its moorings and on the brink of being lost forever.
Tony panicked then and that was the only thing that saved him. He reached over to the nightstand beside the bed, found a heavy statuette of carved jade, and sent it crashing down upon the top of Fanny’s head. Fortunately, that did the trick. The woman fell away, stunned, and laid there on the carpeted floor. As Tony tucked himself back into his trousers and zipped his fly, he was shocked by the transformation that Fanny had undergone.
She was no longer the stunning seductress that she had been mere moments ago. Instead, she was a bony hag with a twisted face as ugly as sin. Her white skin was pocked with festering blisters and boils, and, within her gaping mouth, gleamed jagged teeth with points as sharp as razors.
The thing that was Fanny Eldritch grasped at Tony’s ankle as he left the bed and hurriedly crossed the room. “Come back here!” she rasped, a mist of frosty breath drifting from the ugly hole of her mouth. “I’m not through with you yet!”
Tony thought differently, however. He pushed open the door and burst into the corridor. As he sprinted down the hallway toward the staircase, he found the doors to the adjoining rooms standing open. Inside, his fellow teammates were being assaulted in the same parasitic fashion that he had almost succumbed to. He caught a quick glimpse of Bubba Stewart lying naked across a bed, one of Fanny Eldritch’s daughters straddling his hips. The creature, now just as hideous as her mother, rocked back and forth, as if attempting to pump the very life force from the quivering body of the big linebacker. Bubba’s face was blanched and gray, his eyes duller and less responsive than they usually were.
The boy didn’t stop to help his buddy. Instead, he hurriedly descended the winding stairs and nearly broke his neck, attempting to make it through the front door. As he stumbled down the porch steps and into the cluttered yard, Coach Winters left the others beneath the tree and started toward him. “Wait up, Frazier!” he called out.
Tony looked into the coach’s eyes and saw alarm. But it wasn’t alarm over what was taking place inside the old mansion. Rather, it was alarm over Tony’s apparent escape. He knew then that Winters would be no ally to him. No, it was clear to see that Winters had orchestrated this entire episode and that he knew precisely what was taking place.
Like a wild man, Tony plunged into the thicket, oblivious to the thorns that ripped at his skin and clothing. He heard the coach’s frantic yells behind him, as well as the confused voices of the others. Tony didn’t stop. He fought his way through the woods, heading eastward in the direction of the highway. As he climbed the steep grade of Whorehouse Hollow toward freedom, he couldn’t help but recall that numbing sensation of total apathy that Fanny Eldritch had almost sentenced him to. Luckily, it seemed that he had escaped just in the nick of time.
~ * ~
It was well past midnight, when Tony reached Highway 70. He was a nervous wreck by the time he stumbled out of the thicket and onto the lonely stretch of two-lane blacktop. Several times during his mad dash from the backwoods hollow, Tony had been certain that he heard the grinding roar of the diesel bus struggling up the grade toward him. Also, it may have been his imagination, but he was sure that something much more horrifying in nature also dogged his heels. Several times he had glanced over his shoulder and swore that he saw pale-fleshed forms flitting through the dark forest in hot pursuit.
During his frantic exodus from the woods, questions concerning what was taking place that night preyed on Tony’s mind. He began to wonder if the winning streak that the Bedloe County Bears had enjoyed for two decades was due solely to skill, determination, and the sexual incentive of Whorehouse Hollow. Tony began to wonder if their unparalleled victories had been due to some evil alliance between Coach Winters and Fanny Eldritch. The quarterback recalled some of the plays he had pulled off, seemingly impossible plays, and found himself wondering if perhaps some sort of magic had been responsible. Had Coach Winters made a deal with the witch twenty years ago? Had he promised Fanny and her hellish daughters an annual sacrifice in exchange for a continuous streak of winning seasons? After witnessing what had happened that night, Tony couldn’t help but wonder.
Finally, however, his crazed sprint through the underbrush had ended. He escaped the cramped confines of the woods and made it to the open road. He didn’t slow down, though. He kept right on running until he reached the first farmstead that he came to. Tony recognized the big stock barn and the split-level farmhouse that stood a few yards away from it, and thanked God for allowing him to reach such a haven safely.
Tony staggered around the side of the house to a window with frilly pink curtains. He sagged against the wall of white clapboard and tapped on the glass of the windowpane with dirty, bleeding knuckles. A moment later a light came on and the curtains were pulled aside.
“Tony!” cried Pamela Sue in surprise. She raised the sash and stared with alarm at her exhausted boyfriend. “What happened to you?”
The quarterback could say nothing at first. He fought to catch his breath and motioned for her to help him through the open window. Pamela Sue quickly agreed and, soon, Tony was stretched out on her bed. He
breathed in deeply, trying hard to clear his head. He looked around at the posters of teen heartthrobs that papered Pamela Sue’s bedroom walls, as well as the colorful stuffed animals that the girl collected. The innocent surroundings seemed almost surreal in contrast to those deceptive furnishings inside the Eldritch house. Or perhaps lair might have been a better term to describe that hellish structure in the shadowy pit of Whorehouse Hollow.
“Please, Tony,” begged Pamela Sue, herself almost in tears. “Tell me what happened tonight.”
Tony shook his head violently, the full impact of that night causing him to shudder in remembrance. “I can’t,” sobbed Tony. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
Pamela Sue took him in her arms and cradled him as if he were a baby. “Okay,” she told him soothingly. “You don’t have to say anything. Just try to calm down.”
Tony clung tightly to his girlfriend, his face buried in the soft folds of her flannel gown. He half expected Mr. or Mrs. Cripps to burst in to the room, demanding to know what was going on. But fortunately they didn’t. They remained in the dark as to Tony’s presence in their daughter’s bedroom.
After a while, Tony’s nervous palsy decreased and he began to relax. He hugged Pamela Sue closer to him and she returned the favor. He breathed in the intoxicating scent of her; baby powder, herbal shampoo, and a hint of her favorite perfume. Tony stared into the girl’s worried eyes and saw none of the hesitation that had been there during the nights they had dated. He kissed Pamela Sue deeply and, surprisingly enough, she made the next move, rolling on top of him. His trembling hands snaked past the hem of her gown and stopped at the sheer fabric of her bikini panties.
“I wish …“he stammered, “I wish we could …”
Pamela Sue smiled softly. “We can,” she told him. “I feel like it’s the right time now.”
Tony stared up at her gratefully, then gently peeled the panties away from her hips. At the same time, Pamela Sue unfastened Tony’s jeans and slid them down around his legs. Tony thought nothing of safe sex or birth control as he flipped the girl over and began to make love to her. He felt that, if he hesitated, even for a moment, he would most surely lose his sanity. All that kept him from freaking out entirely was his love for this beautiful young girl who gave herself freely underneath him.
