Read them all and stay curious.. whose story got turned into the hunt?
The stories released are unedited and pasted as submitted to us.
- Kiana -
Today's story is by Banba Muircastle
and it has ADULT CONTENT
Her memory is gone...
The boat docks, the storm having washed it up against the lava flow hardened over ageless time. Cliffs jagged as teeth rise beyond. An echo of a derelict building peeks through the heavy mists above, and just over the ridge, pointing to heave, a conical shaped roof beacons.
The climb is rough going. The sharp lava bites into her hands but once on top the shadows of buildings can be seen. The smell of rotting flesh lingers in the air like the heavy perfume of a whore, bringing the bile to her mouth and an involuntary gag.
All senses scream against moving down into the shadows of those buildings but her feet, as if a life of their own, begin the descent.
Trembling fingers slide around cold wet steal. She ask, "Is it there my body will rest at last?"
"What are you looking for?" the echo of a male voice asked.
A startled gasp rips from her throat, blindly she rushes forward, ducking inside the first opening found. The damp rotting crypt crowds around her. Her hands claw their way against the stone walls until blinking against the light she re-emerges into an erie place. She falls to her knees, hands scraping against the hard crusted earth of the grave yard, her face lowering against it
"It was here I remember" she whispers "This place that was once my home."...
**Happiness swallows the girl just as the sunshine swallows the trees and the flowers and the buildings in it's golden effulgence. Her love, her love with come this night. He will bring her flowers and maybe a tart, maybe a hug and a kiss.
She squeals with delight, hugging herself and spinning in a circle.
The day wanes slowly. She is called inside by her mother for supper. Her father and little sister already seated at table. Nervously, she picks at the food. Tuning out the squabble between her parents. Tuning out the whines of her sister. Closing her eyes to imagine him in her mind… his eyes… his smile… his lips. A hard smack to the side of her face snaps her to attention as her mother scolds her to eat and her father reaches across and shoves the plate toward her. Their bitter words to be thankful for what was before her, to waste not, that starving children in another country would devour every morsel the spoiled brat thought not good enough for her. The sting of the slap, the water in her eyes, the bile rising in her throat drove her up and away into the night looking for …**
Sshe is looking for her soul, swallowed by the darkness of disillusionment, buried under her own desire for more, racked by her inability to see beyond the hopelessness that crashed around her mind like a tsunami and dragged her to the depths of despair, where the blade felt better across her delicate wrist than the thought of daylight…
**A hand clamps over her mouth, her frightened eyes widen, she struggles to see who holds her. A hiss sounds in her ear, "Hold still girl." It is the voice of him… him, she relaxes in his hold, relaxes and smiles, feeling his hands grope her breast, move over her body, pull up her skirt, rush down between her warm soft thighs. She tries to jump away, turning to glimpse not his face, not h is face, but the dirty face of the beggar man, whose foulness darkened the streets of the market, whose stench had caused her to cross to the other side of the street. Oh dear, oh dear, not tonight, no stench rose from his naked body, as she realized, too late, she had rushed into the dark, to the bathing pool, where a pile of ragged clothing lay.
The force of his arms scent her sprawling to the ground and his body crushed her beneath him. The hissing, now boy, have your way, as I've got this little bitch penned for your pleasure.
Who?
What?
Her eyes straining in the darkness to see who this boy was the beggar man coached…**
The battles that raged, were of her own making, to puny and insubstantial to even consider a danger but more corrupt in their own willingness to eat her soul alive than could ever be dream possible. It was for her a beginning, a freedom, : a way to escape the encroaching darkness and always the presence, the weeping presence of something beyond herself, shadowed in the shadows, white and foreboding that hissed in her ear. A gaping mouth that spewed fowl intentions.
**"No!" she cried as she saw his face, his beautiful face, white under the moonlight..
"Hurry now boy, or I'll take her myself and then," the fowl man leaned in close, hissing in her ear, "you are next"**
But never there when she turned to look it in the eye, to catch sight of what haunted her but she followed, she followed the scent of it as if she were a bloodhound, as if ever instinct in her told her there at the end, oh there would be the prize.
**Her eyes opened, body ached. The muffled sound of crying filling her ears. He sat there in a huddle, rocking himself, not daring to look at her. The venom rising in her belly. The sound of hushed voices drawing near.
"She there be your little darling, I caught them in a tryst." The beggar man stood pointing. The boy scrambling to his feet. She barely moving. Her father, her mother, the look of disgust on their faces. Her father's hand grabbing her by the hair, drag gin her to her feet.
"Slut, filthy slut," his growl crashing around her. Her eyes appealing to the boy, "save me, tell them you raped me, you and the fowl beggar man used me" yet unable to speak, shocked into muteness…**
She had glimpsed it once, electrifying, thriling to her senses… that prize of freedom as putrid as rotting fleshand slimy as the bottom of the floor under which blood dripped from those less fortunate to escape the claw.
**Locked in her room for days she sat silent, until the night the lock was turned and the door open slightly to show she was allowed to move. But she stayed where she was and waited, her mind having sought the revenge. The darkness coveted the land. All slumbered in the house… oh how the knife slide so easily across the necks of her father and mother, and penetrated the small body of her sister that night. Her screams, the stabs to her own body, as she ran, dripping with blood, calling out how the beggar man and a boy broke into their home, thieves, murderers, until all lights went on and the street filled with people. She watched with hardened eyes, as the beggar man and… and him… were taken into custody, their protests they had not murdered, they have not broken into her house, it was a lie, a lie, though their words went unheeded…**
If she closed her eyes she heard it, the mechanical hiss. and the thunderous ticking of a clock that echoed in the far reaches of her emptiness -- "it is time" -- "time" But time was only a ruin, a once magnificent fortress abandoned to the ravages of the sea and the diminishment of the red seeping from the slit, clogging into a semblance of bloodpudding along the girl's wrist.
**Her finger pointed them out, sent them to the chair before all the people who watched the condemned die. As her hideous grin found retribution in the taking of their lives, as she ran, so fast, away from the market, away from the mechanical hiss, away from the stench and the charred flesh, away from the ticking of the giant clock, down and away to the safe and secure cove that now was only a silhouette in her mind.**
"ah I remember this house" Once so blue, with white shutters and window boxes filled with flowers. She glances at the shadow , at her haunt, at her ghoul, at the wretched boy she once fancied whose fetch followed her as her own slithered on. "but you awakened me out of this place, " she at last spoke to him. "and now it is only darkness and rot."
She held up her white arms, she showed him the wounded wrists, her ghoulish eyes gazing upon his shadow…
A group of children huddled near the old beaten down cottage, weathered grey.
"She was simply mad, insane, she lost her own mind," whispered the black haired boy. First to be found drowned in the pool not far from the cottage.
"Yes, she saw their electrocution and it flipped the switch in her own brain, fried her own circuits and sent her reeling into the outer edges of her sanity, she toed the line for only as long as she could and then the men whose body stunk in the chair, whose seared and blackened faces, and distended tongues haunted her -- always there clawing at her, " said the blond-headed boy, whose own body was found hanging from a butcher's claw in the back of the shop.
"But maybe she could not handle what it showed her was her own doing, in essence, she killed him, the one she loved," said the girl with red-pigtails whose body was found at the bottom of a cliff.
"They raped her, had their way with her," announced one boy whose blue eyes lit up at the thought, who was found impaled on a spike.
"SHE killed her family, slit their throats," added another brown haired boy, who was found mysteriously strangled in his sleep.
"And her little sister, by god, but how many stabs was her body given?" exclaimed a girl, whose skirt was suddenly caught in the grinding meal and dragged her beanth the heavy wheels.
"Thirteen stabs!" whispered a child, whose innocence, caused all the others to hush. All eyes stared upon the little face that disappeared never to be seen again.
"But it was her who caused those leather straps to bond him and the sponge to be inserted in his mouth, " cried out a girl, whose bound body was found at the bottom of the harbor with a sea sponge stuffed in her mouth.
"And the horrible popping of his eyes… ewwww… she caused that!" grinned a boy, who was found laying dead on the top of the hill, his eyes eaten by the ravens.
"Well, she killed her own frailty me thinks, and with them her own humanity could not sustain such an act of execution," an older girl tasked her tongue, shaking her head, found with a broken neck in the grave yard.
"So voila, she killed herself in the end, for she had become in her own mind as horrible a monster as he had been to those she loved," stated an older boy, whose arms crossed his chest with smug indignation. He was later trembled to death under an angry large bull.
"She slit her own wrists, what a stupid fool," said a girl, whose own wrists gaping bled out.
"Well, that Halloween you know, " said the dark-eyed teenager whose face shimmered in the light of the setting sun. The other twelve children focused on his face, wanting desperately to hear the halloween story again, for as soon as the sun was set, once again the festivities would begin and each would race home to done their costumes and run from house to house.
" I was just a kid when i saw her…. secretly bathing in the waters naked, she was aetherial.... i never thought that woman would be her... i followed her steps to the old lighthouse... i was looking for a clue for a sign....I left my bag with the treats away somewhere.... I never thought I would leave those sweet candies for that lady... when i approached seemed scared.... what had happened to her...i asked myself as i found a small sponge on the ground...was it a sign...in this strange place I walked in to harvest my treats? was it just a dream? i dont know, all i know was that i saw her walking out of the water.... then to the lighthouse and then disappeared from the ruins...some rumors used to been heard around for a young woman who sold innocent men's souls...for the shake of her hungry family to demonic creatures in the dark... a small letter at this door: shows what this girl is made from.... was she a ghost i never known.... i came back the other night to see what was this is all about...the place was quite and peaceful tho in the air still a Halloween song was singed around this empty hollow night where the dead comes to life....
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