Chapter VII - Halloween Chapter that I'm too lazy to title

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"Tell us a story grandpa! Before you go."

"Yeah yeah! Tell us a scary one grampy!"

Two children still young and vibrant, not yet passed the age of 8, beamed at the old man. He motioned for them to sit on the woolen rug in front of him.

"Hehe, very well little ones. This story begins with a young man, he was a newlywed. Eager to begin a domestic life that he had always envisioned for himself."

Dartmouth, Nova Scotia April of 1912

He was born the same year as his best friend that lived just down the road. They grew up together in a small fishing town, and became close throughout their youth. He was a delicate young lad, and she a rough little lady. He had circles under his eyes from reading too late into the night and she had bruises from picking fights in the schoolyard. He had jet black hair that he wore under an inconspicuous hat and she sported vibrant crimson hair that she flaunted at every opportunity. They were close throughout childhood, she would fight bullies on his behalf and he would teach her maths in return. Into their adolescence his father got him a job at the shipyard to teach him about masculine fortitude and her mother got her a job at a cafe to teach her feminine delicacy. They initially resisted but quickly found their place in the small town. While he worked the harbour she would bring refreshments from the small coffee shop which employed her. They grew inseparable and soon the whole town designated them the young couple. It was no surprise when they announced their relationship, nor their engagement. In fact the townsfolk expected this to come much sooner. The wedding was a cordial affair, nearly the whole town in attendance. Now, the town was not very large and the folk not very wealthy. But what did accumulate in abundance was a simple cheer. Anything bad hardly happened in this little fishing village, and when the newlywed couple needed a new homestead, the whole town was eager to contribute in the building of their starting cabin. Before long the young couple had a new home and a new life ahead of them.

"I love our new home and can't wait for this new life ahead of us!" She beamed as she stepped through the doorway of their shack.

But then she died. Not too long after they had gotten settled. Nearly immediately after they had wed, she was pregnant and the young couple were looking forward to a child. Life was good. But the baby came too soon, a storm raged too strong, the doctor came too late, and the expectant mother too frail to deliver the child.

"Your daughter will be fine, she's as healthy as I've ever seen-" The doctor spoke in a melancholy tone, "-but your wife…"

"No, don't say it…" The new father knew what had happened, but he desperately clung to a false hope that it wasn't true.

"I'm sorry."

It wasn't too long after she had passed that he took to the bottom of a bottle. And because of this his daughter was soon taken away as well, which caused him to drink further. Drowning himself in this vice offered him solace, even if only for a moment. He would drink, until he could remember no longer. He would try to forget his wife's rough face, her fiery crimson hair. The little hook of her nose that always seemed to be swiped with dirt, and her illustrious smile that lit up the whole town. He took to the drink to forget what was once so familiar. What was once home. Many evenings poured into late nights at the bar, he would drink until the barkeep kicked him out. But then he would go home and drink some more.

It was one particular night that he met a young mistress. The lonely old drunk had stumbled his way back to his wife's grave, he sat down and placed his bottle upon her headstone. He sat there in his depression for what must have been hours. He didn't sob, he sat in silence. Feeling utterly empty and devoid of expression.

"That'll kill you, you know" An inviting voice rang out. The man slowly raised his vision, and a woman stood above him. She was dressed in an overcoat, and she wore deep red lipstick. Her eyes outlined with make-up only accentuated their expressiveness. Her hair glittered in the moonlight, what seemed to be a deep red. She was stunning enough to bring any man to his knees.

"Maybe that wouldn't be so bad" He took another swig of liquor.

The lady bent down next to him, and took a gulp of his foul alcohol as well. And there they sat in silence. They continued drinking late into the night, until the man felt a wave of tiredness, he felt his insides ready to come up, his nausea rose but he could barely compose himself to stand up. Before he knew it the ground began to rush before him and…. Blackness.

The man awoke with a jolt, "Where am I?" he said to himself. He rubbed his eyes and looked around to see himself in his cabin. He was a little more than confused, he was covered in dirt and his cabin looked ransacked. Books were strewn about with strange runes written in them, chairs had been flung and the homestead was in chaos.

"Oh, you're finally awake." The woman he had met earlier walked out from a doorway. "You passed out and I had to carry you all the way back home. I believe I deserve at least a thank you."

"Oh uh… thank you… I guess" He was still dazed and confused. He could smell a stench from something, a foul odour that permeated the air. "Why… what happened?"

"I can't believe you don't remember, you threw one hell of a fit, and it took everything I had just to get you to lie down." The mistress stepped toward him in his bed, she brought her face close to his. "But everything is okay now"

The man still lost, looked around once more. "I… did all of this?"

"Mm-hmm. All you"

"Why, why did you help me?"

The woman brought her face even closer to his, close enough for the fetid musk to give way to her sweet perfume. "Because silly, I need you"

She pressed her lips against his, and drove her tongue deep into his oral cavity. The man initially wanted to jerk back, but he had been so lonely. So many cold, cold nights alone in this cabin. And so, giving into his more carnal tendencies, he pushed his tongue back. They exchanged spit and saliva, tongues wrapped in a sensual dance. She leapt onto the bed and straddled him, grabbing at his pants and violently yanking them off. Their kiss continued, he could feel her soft lips sucking on his tongue, he gently bit her lower lip back. They dug and prodded at each other's mouths, he felt every ridge of her teeth, and she slid back and forth under his palate. Sending waves of electricity tingling through his body. They finally pulled their clothes off, she revealed her stunning body, laid bare and naked for the man to see.

Her sopping wet pussy yearned to be filled with the man's love organ, and his bedrock hard cock yearned for the embrace of a woman once more. Sexual juices were leaking from both of them, and she positioned herself just above the man. Hesitantly, slowly, they began to push into each other. Excitement rode through their bodies, and he pushed his way as deep as he could with a sudden jolt. A surge of gratification exploded in their brains and both of their eyes rolled back in pleasure. Her sex sphincter twitched and tightened around his dick, and he began to pull back. She rose and promptly slammed herself back down on his sex piston. The bed shook and he gasped as his mind was suddenly clouded by only earthly thoughts of the flesh. She began to bounce up and down on his member, with sticky liquid sloshing between their two genitals. She began to moan in pleasure, and he grunted in ecstacy. His hands clamped down on her thighs and he began to pound away with his disco stick. They pulsated back and forth like the fist of a coked up teenager at a German rave. With every thrust they could feel each other deeper, with every thrust they drove themselves closer to madness. He reached around and grabbed her ass cheek, and began to slide a finger into her tight little bunghole. She only squeezed her gorilla grip tighter around both his finger and his Schneider's red hot all pork hot dog. She folded over and dropped to his chest, still pumping away. Neither of them would allow a moment to stop. He pulled his finger out of her fart box. And with the ferocity of a second grader that eats all the crackers of a dunkaroos pack first just to consume only the chocolate icing on their finger, he shoved it into her mouth. She sucked and licked at his poo finger, and she grabbed his hand to guide it into his mouth as well. Their sex instruments still not missing a beat, the orchestra continued. He slammed his meat rod as deep as he could into her axe wound, and they both let out hedonic howl. Her legs began to quiver as she continued to feel him slide in and out of her, slamming into the opening of her uterus each time they pumped. His butthole clenched as he felt the entire length of his member gripped by her velvety soft insides, squishing and clamping on his fuck banana. They approached their climax, feeling it well up inside of them. She could only gasp for air as she bounced against him. Her vagina twitched and she knew it was coming. He could feel her begin to shake as he was ready to cum as well. His rough hands wrapped around her throat. He squeezed with all his vigor and let out an almighty roar that shook the cabin. He let loose his man mayo deep inside her love cave. Together they squealed and howled like animals wild in the night. Their bodies tensed and writhed, unable to comprehend the ecstasy in full. They stood frozen for a moment, paralysed by the power of the big coom. And finally they dropped. Sweat beaded down their bodies and she lay atop his chest. His weenie slid out of her woman hole like a school bus backing out of a compact parking spot. And they breathed a sigh of gratification.

The smell returned. It was like rotting ham that had been left in the back seat of a car and forgotten about over a weekend. A fly buzzed by the man's ear, and it landed on the woman. He brushed it away but it flew right back, crawling into her hair where it was lost. The woman suddenly felt cold and stiff against his body. The man tried to tap her awake but she didn't move.

"Hey" he beckoned. But was met with no response. "Hey get up"

The mistress rose her head but it suddenly wasn't the woman he had seen before. Her jaw was agape and her face was wrenched into a wicked visage. She let out an unearthly sound as her lungs struggled to fill with air. Her skin once so soft was suddenly clammy and devoid of colour. Her eyes wept with blood and her pupils opened to the black pits of hell. The man jumped and pushed her off as he leapt out of bed. He screamed at her shambling effort to turn toward him. "What the hell are you?!" He demanded. His eyes gripped with terror as she took her stance on all fours. She pounced on him and he blindly swung his fist, luckily finding its mark and knocking the creature to the side. He prepared his legs to run but then he noticed. A familiar strand of crimson hair lay stuck to his fist covered in blood. He turned toward the beast in horror, placing his eyes upon her fiery, red hair.

"No, it can't be…" The realization dawned upon him. And just as he began to comprehend it, the young woman he spent the night with appeared next to him. She calmly placed her hand on his shoulder,

"How could you do that to your dear wife?" The creature slowly crept toward the man, and he could hear it weeping. It laid itself down at his feet and sobbed.

"That's not my wife, that's not her." He exclaimed, but the woman only smiled at him.

"Oh but it is, it is the wife you so dearly miss. You dug up her corpse on your own, you did the ritual all on your own. And here she is, your lovely, lovely wife"

The man stepped back in fear, his whole body trembled. He stumbled and fell to his back. "N-n-no…" he could only whimper.

The woman cackled to herself and stepped back into the darkness. She offered no explanation, no words in rebuttal. Only a shrill laugh that seemed to pierce in his psyche. Her face slowly faded, and the visage he was left with was only his own. He stared into the eyes, the pitch black eyes of a man that long ago had died as well. He looked down to find the slowly writhing body of his wife, animated by some arcane and wicked magic. It had begun to decompose, it's body was twisted and broken from the time spent underground. It's faced permanently deformed into a haunting scream, and eyes wide with disgust. The man sprang up and ran, he ran out the door of his old cabin, he ran out into the forest. He ran with no destination in mind, just to get away from the eldritch horror that lay in his home. He ran until his legs gave out, and then he struggled some more. He ran out of the forest into a clearing, and fell to his knees in exhaustion. His eyes welled up with emotion, he looked to the sky overhead, and screamed in horror.

He cried out to the Lord above, but was returned with only silence.

"Now now children, grandpa is tired. Let's get him home to rest"

The children gripped each other in fear, eyes wide with terror.

"It's not true right grandpa?"

"Haha of course not, but it was a great tale for a scary halloween night wasn't it young ones?"

The children hesitantly nodded, certain they would be plagued with night terrors for days to come. The old man slowly rose, his aching joints clicked into place. He donned his ragged jacket, thanked his family for a splendid evening, and began his journey home.

He returned home to his lonely old cabin, the familiar creak of the door, the familiar clicking of the latch. The floorboards still cried from their years of neglect and dust invaded every untouched surface. The old man opened his familiar basement door, and descended his familiar rickety stairs. He heard the familiar rattling of iron chains, and inhaled the familiar stench of blood. He gazed upon the familiar horror before him, a disfigured beast contorted its head toward the old man and shuffled toward him on all fours, but was halted by restraints. It began to yank at its chains, it longed to be free of his bondage. It started to moan, and as the man stood there watching it intensified it's cries. It began to shriek it's familiar shriek, and crescendoed to an unholy bellow emanating from its darkest depths. The noise cleaved its way into the man's heart but he stood unflinching. It was familiar to him. It was home. The beast began to weaken, it's familiar howl fell to a familiar screech, familiar screech to a familiar wail, and familiar wail to a final familiar sob. And when the creature could only mutter in silence, the man proceeded forward. He looked at its mangy skin, so cold and clammy to the touch. He gazed at its bent and broken frame, so similar to a person but with limbs never in the right place, proportions that never shared any harmony, and movements that were never anything but alien. Its face marred with scars, eyes that have long since rotted to give way to two empty black holes. He bent down to the creature and brushed a familiar long strand of crimson hair past its ear.

With his face contorted into a twisted smile, madness ravaging his delicate mind, the old man gave himself to the dark fantasy before him.

"Honey, I'm home"