Disclaimer: Do not own anything from the Labyrinth

Poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, "The Erl-King"

Picture by Henry Fuseli, "The Nightmare"


Authors note:
The last chapter, right in time for Halloween.
A word in warning: I might have got away with a T-rating for the first two chapters, but chapter 3 should really be rated M, so read at your own risk!


"I love thee, I'm charm'd by thy beauty, dear boy!
And if thou'rt unwilling, then force I'll employ."
"My father, my father, he seizes me fast,
For sorely the Erl-King has hurt me at last."


For thirteen weeks now he had been visiting her every night.

His presence in her bed a curse and a temptation in equal amounts and her health had started to deteriorate as quickly as her night time encounters had escalated.

With revulsion she contemplated her haggard reflexion in the mirror.
Her hair had lost its shine and her cheeks had hollowed from the lack of sleep and nourishment, which she couldn't bring herself to force past her bloodless lips.
A scarf constantly adorned her neck these days, as she desperately tried to hide the bruises on her throat.

Doctor's appointments had followed one another; learned foreheads were wrinkled in confusion and glasses were tapped against stern mouths, as experts puzzled over her case.
But all was damned to futility, before they even prescribed their useless treatments; and in vain her family would question what ailed her, because her lips stayed firmly locked by his poisonous kiss.

Weary to the bone she sat at her vanity table and tried to block out last night's events that kept intruding on her preoccupied mind.
Obediently she had trudged up the stairs to her room, unable to help herself despite the purgatory she knew the night had in store for her.
Like a siren call she felt the lure of her bed as soon as dusk approached- and no matter how hard she tried to withstand, in the end she would always give in.

She had long realized that her fear would not gain his mercy and the terror she had initially experienced during his nightly manifestations had been somewhat dulled by her increasing languor.
Resigned to the inevitable she had therefore gone to bed, only to be awoken to the same scene, that had repeated itself in all the nights she didn't care to count anymore.

He had caressed and teased her, masterfully fanning the destructive fire he had kindled to urge her reluctant body into cooperation.
And cooperated she had.

Long lost was her restraint once she had realized, that she could no longer fend off his advances, and the nights were since spent in a frenzy of tangled limbs, heated kisses and loaded touch.

She closed her eyes in shame as she remembered what had followed the now familiar overture.

Her back had been pressed up against his chest, closely held there by his arm, and her head thrown back in rapture, as his lips had grazed her throat.
Suddenly, she had sensed his hand stealthily creep up her leg, further and further up her thigh, pushing along the hem of her nightgown until her shivering legs were exposed to the cold night air.
Horrified and fairly nauseated she had realized what he was trying to do, where he was trying to get, and started to wriggle in the confines of his arms, one hand struggling to yank the gown back down.
With a low hiss into her ear he had tightened up his hold on her, effectively pinning her arms down her side, and viciously bit the sensitive skin of her neck in punishment for her defiance.

Chastised into surrender and trembling in apprehension, she had waited for his hand to finish its progress to the top of her thigh, smudging on its path the treacherous rivulets of moisture, that had started to run down her legs without her ever giving them permission to do so.
She had grabbed the sheets convulsively and balled them up in her fist, when his relentless hand had reached the apex of her thigh and pushed aside the last layer of protective fabric. A gasp had escaped her lips when the cool leather had made contact with her overheated skin, and then in a single moment her whole existence had narrowed down, consisting only of the thrilling sensation his intrusive finger was able to induce.
The heat had started to become unbearable and violent tremors had shaken her body before the spell that kept her enthralled was finally broken, when her world dissolved in a whirlwind of colours.

She buried her face in her hands as remorse and arousal welled up inside her. How she hated her body for its betrayal and the pile of sin it had become, craving even now what surely would soon be her death.

All too clearly she could see now before her eyes the many mistakes she had made.
Wishing away her brother had been the first one, thus alerting this nightmarish entity to her presence in the first place and awakening something, that would have better been left sleeping and forgotten.
And then in a whim of misguided pity she had been foolish enough to invite him in, when before he was barred from entry and from doing her any harm.
And once allowed access, he had easily ensnared her in his net of desire and intimidation, seducing her innocent body until she had become so hopelessly entangled that she couldn't find the strength anymore to resist.

Yes, before long now her fate would be decided, one way or another, that much was clear.

She couldn't shake off the feeling of foreboding that had started to creep over her in the morning, when she considered to what new level of depravity her situation had decayed to in just one night.
And then there was the matter of her body withering away before her eyes. She even drew a tiny bit of solace from the fact that her physical condition was so rapidly
declining, because then at least her suffering would find an end sooner rather than later.

She stared out of the window and wished with all the bitterness of hindsight, that she could still make out the white shape of the barn owl sitting on the window sill. If only he would still be sitting there, damned to gape at her ineffectively through the glass, if only she had never let him in.

It was late and the house was quiet, everyone else had long gone to bed, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to fight the crushing exhaustion for much longer.
Already she felt a desperate need for sleep and something akin to a stabbing pain whenever she chanced to look in the direction of her bed.
Slowly she got undressed, taking in the familiar belongings in her bedroom, and her heart clenched with a sudden keen sense of fondness and yearning for them. With a heavy sigh she gave them one last swift glance, switched off the light and crawled into her bed.
Burying her face in her pillow, she deeply inhaled the comforting scent, trying to ignore the whiff of something otherwordly that had taken root in her bedding over the last few weeks. Quickly her lids became heavy and she drifted off to a fitful slumber.

She jumped awake a mere hour later with a strangled cry, her arms flailing helplessly in the air as she still tried to fight off the unmentionable horrors of her most gruesome and intense nightmare yet.
An inadvertent tear ran down her cheek and her breath kept coming in racking half-sobs.
In a gesture that was almost tender, a thumb swept over her cheek to wipe away the tear, making her aware of his dreaded presence beside her.
As if possessed by a malignant demon, she suddenly threw herself at him with reckless abandon, snuggling her face against the hollow of his throat and – bizarrely - seeking comfort from the creature responsible for her martyrdom. But it did not matter - anyone, anything to drive away the excruciating pictures in her head.

The moment of dream induced weakness soon took its revenge though, when he understood it as an invitation to unleash a yet unparalleled assault of caresses upon her.
She was thrown on her back and her mouth was claimed in fierce, open-mouthed kisses, that left her nearly choking, while his hands explored every inch of her body. She started to feel dizzy from the myriad of sensations that flooded her mind and her breath came in fitful pants, as the sickly desire he instilled spread through her veins.

All of a sudden the nightgown was yanked up and above her head, accompanied by the foreboding sound of tearing fabric, and her protesting exclamation was muffled by a leather gloved palm. She started to frantically thrash against him, but he caught hold of her wrists and twisted them in a vice like grip above her head.
Helplessly incapacitated there was nothing she could do to prevent the whole of his body descending on top of her like the vault of a grave, the heat of his skin nearly scalding, as he pressed himself flush against her chest.

Pure undiluted fear flared in her head, when he let go of her wrists and used his hands to push apart her firmly clenched thighs.
In a last mad attempt she violently tried to throw him off, and using both of her hands she pushed his chest with all of her force the moment she felt the smooth skin of his legs brush against the inside of hers.
But nothing moved the dead weight he was, and with a forceful thrust of his hips blazing agony exploded inside her and rippled through all of her body, as if she had been impaled with a red hot iron poker.
All sense and all sight vanished in the world of crippling pain and unbearable pleasure he was inflicting upon her with every move. And just when she thought she could take no more, her bedroom started to fade at the edges and her soul seemed to drift over the white shapes of entwined bodies in her bed, before everything slowly blacked out and she drowned in a dark funnel of sensation.

The last morning of the thirteenth week dawned and sent tentative fingers of daylight through her window, slowly illuminating the tangled sheets and stains of blood on the empty bed in her room.
They remain the sole and mute witnesses to the scene that has taken place the night before, clearly stating and yet never revealing the fate that has befallen the girl, who gave up her power to become his slave.


Authors note:

Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think, like it or hate it, I am open for discussion.
As I am pretty new to this whole thing, your reviews would really be helpful. And if you care for lighter reading, well there is still Reaping Day in progress...

You might be appalled by the drastic and violent ending of this story. Please keep in mind that the story is based on or inspired by Goethe's poem 'The Erl-King', which does not have a happy ending either:

"The father now gallops, with terror half wild,
He grasp in his arms the poor shuddering child;
He reaches his courtyard with toil and with dread,-
The child in his arms finds he motionless, dead.

Perhaps you wonder why it had to be so graphic? Common fairy tales and folk lore have also influenced this story, or more accurate the often hidden warnings they contain beneath a layer of symbolism and metaphors, usually trying to warn off young girls from straying off the right path.
This story was always meant as a fairytale truly gone dark, and with that I mean an attempt to spell out in so many words, what could happen if you did not heed the warning and gave in to temptation.
It's a tale about supernatural beings, seduction and dealing with our own fears and desires. It's also just fiction and the ultimate goal was to create an atmosphere of both intense fear and sexual tension.