Disclaimer: I only own Emily
Warning: Rated M, for abuse and adult content.
Feedback: A little constructive feedback would be nice. For my new readers, I hope you enjoy and for those of you who read the old version, I do hope you like this one better. Please let me know.
**This takes place before Red Canyon because otherwise things get far too confusing. **
*Short Chapter. Enjoy!"
The gates of hell had opened wide and from them had come this methodical, sexual demon in the guise of a human being. In christian mythology, he would be known as an incubus, a demon that rapes women in their sleep and drains their energy. Only this one, did not bother waiting for her to fall asleep. The demons of hell had given him powerful hands and the ability to cause her body great emotional confusion. It was unfathomable, how it was possible for her to be full of arousal and fear at the same time and how her body was able to manage the chemical cocktail now assaulting every cell of her anatomy. In some sick twisted way, the adrenaline flowing through her veins at an ever increasing rate, seemed to cause her body even more arousal. So, within the fear that was slowly eating her alive, she found great excitement. There was something about that excitement that was very grotesque. If this man was worse than Anthony (and she suspected he was), then she had a general idea of just what he very likely would do to her delicate flesh. Even knowing that, she still could not stop herself from becoming aroused at the thought of being his eternal plaything. Something about this great massive dustbowl, was causing her mindset to change entirely. Now, it was not only that man, Mac, that she would have to contend with, but herself. Emily's body was slowly turning against her and almost forcing her to turn back toward the Luna Mesa so that his wanting fingers could probe her delicate flesh. So that the predatory creature with eyes that see through clothing and burn flesh with wanting lust-could tear her clothing to shreds and take her in the dusty bar bathroom. At the same time that she was fighting to keep her body from giving into its' secret desires, she was also attempting to push the ever mocking mantra of his voice, from her mind. There was still a whisper of pain that tingled across the back of her head from where he had pulled her hair forcefully and a phantom feeling of his probing fingers as they groped her swollen bud through her cargos. In her panicked, confused and very daunting journey to her car, Emily had forgotten the first rule of the very situation she found herself in. Even if you do hear the sound of footfalls behind you and your body is telling you that the owner of such footsteps is the volatile man you are attempting to avoid, do not look behind you. The temptation do to the very thing she knew that she should not do, tugged at her as her peripherals caught the blurry image of the grease coated figure, approaching her. At the very same moment she heard the calming sound of her key sliding frantically into the lock of her driver's side door, she slowly turned her head to look at the figure approaching her.
The affect that his mere presence had on her, was beyond her mental comprehension. There was something about him that the mind not only could not accept, but it refused to even accept his existence. His close resemblance to Anthony was enough to make her body want to curl up into a corner and attempt to hide from this truth. Again she had to ask herself, what great and evil devil had pulled him right from the pages of her story and then given him an extra dose of laying a finger on her, Mac could send her into mind numbing, shivers of ecstasy and paralytic fear, all at the same time. Emily watched in stunned horror as the devil made his way toward her and she felt her body began to betray her once more. That brave methodical woman she had once been had slowly been consumed by the fire of hell and now she could only watch her hangman approach. The sight of him had transformed her legs into concrete and froze her body in it's current position. Those powerful arms swayed to and fro as his leg muscles strained under the fabric of his loose fitting jeans every time his lethal boots made contact with the sand. It was like watching a jaguar approaching his pray, every muscle of his body visible beneath the fur covered flesh. Only this predator did not intend to kill his prey, at least not at first. He loved to play with his food and to indulge in the screams of ecstasy he could invoke. Emily knew (or had an idea of) exactly what he would do to her if he got his hands on her and there was no one around. The end result would possibly be, deadly. When he was a few yards from her location, her body either, finally realized the danger it was in or she had managed to gain control because suddenly she could move. Emily did not wish to stay in the gaze of the cobra for any longer, she unlocked the car, slammed the door behind her, started it and fishtailed her way out of the parking lot. It's tires kicked up a plume of dust as it was forced into sudden acceleration from it's prolonged stationary position. The accelerator was pushed nearly to the floor in an attempt to put as much distance between her and the monster called Mac, as quick as possible. Even with the Luna Mesa's image, rapidly shrinking away in the rearview mirror, she still found herself glancing into it, fearful she would see him tailing her. Or that the great gates of hell would be seen glowing just behind her. That feeling that the devil had opened hell for her and was now reaching outward for her, was gone. It was replaced by an even worse feeling, the devil was no longer reaching for her, instead he had touched her and now had a taste for her. There would be only one way for her to maintain her freedom and safety. In the morning, even before the sun rose up over the mountains of this country hell and the demons crawled out from their caves, she would leave. The morning darkness, just before the sun rose up over the canyons would hopefully provide her with cover and keep the devil from noticing her movements.
It was a good twenty minutes before Emily decided that she could slow down, she was not going to be followed and that she was out of reach of the devil's grasping hands. The road ahead of her was an eternity but sand and impenetrable darkness. Although the seclusion of the darkness was a welcome comfort, it was also intimidating and nerve wrecking. The source of her anxiety, was the realization that it could camouflage the moves and motives of Mac. It was dense enough, that he could be anywhere within it, watching her with lustful pools of hypnotizing blue. Those dark piercing blue eyes could be patiently watching her from the side of the road or even perched atop one of the canyons that loomed about her like a great stone fist. There were a hundred ways that someone could watch another person if they were really determined to have them and if they had no conscious or care about the persons freedom or well being. That person, that selfish, methodical and violent individual would not care about causing them pain because they had their own plans set in place for the object of their. Emily could very well be wrong about Mac and he could have gotten the hint after she peeled out of the Luna Mesa, parking lot. But if she knew his mindset and his ethical code of conduct as well as she knew Anthony's, then she knew that he would not stop unless a bullet was put in his skull. The biggest problem with that plan of action was the mere sight of him, crippled her with fear and sent her body into paralysis. There was only one other person who could have such an affect on her and that was person was an entirely fictional character. However, with the occurrence of her recent experiences, Emily was beginning to have a second thoughts. As the lines between fiction and reality were starting to thin very quickly. A whirlwind of chaotic thoughts were flooding her mind in rapid succession. Was Anthony really Mac? Or was Mac really Anthony? Did that really all just happen? If she was going to make it through this, she knew that she had to get control over her own mind and fast.
The road before her stretched into the darkness for miles, most of it disappearing into the eternal night of the Utah desert. In her current state of mind, it reminded her of the various vague descriptions of the pathway into hell, except for the fact there was no red glowing door at the end of her journey. There were also no visible demons hanging around, laughing at her as she ventured further into their twisted carnival of delights. The only one demon that she was aware of had already exacted his damage on her fragile nerves and mind. Even though she was miles from the Luna Mesa, his touch was still lingering on her body and she could still smell his intoxicating scent clinging to her flesh. In an attempt to ignore the ever present arousal beneath her cotton panties, Emily gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles were white with tension. Her hands kneaded the leather until she felt them heat with friction. When she saw her turn up ahead, she accelerated and turned so fast onto the unpaved road that she nearly skidded off of it and into the nearest ditch. She knew that her concrete composure was beginning to crack as the first signs of the fear she had been holding back, began to climb up from her still rapidly beating heart and into her throat. A small lump began to form in her larynx, as she fought back the tears of hopelessness that wanted to come spilling down her sun kissed cheeks. Even if she did make it to the house before they finally won and came pouring from her tear ducts, there would be no relief from the mental torture that she was experiencing. All the bolted doors in the world would not stop the emotional anguish and confusion that she was currently battling. As she fought herself for control, her breathing came in quick, short breaths and she began to talk to herself.
"He could take me...and no one would ever know I was missing."
Her voice crackled with tears as she realized the completely helpless situation she had willingly driven right into. If she ever made it back to her publisher's office alive, that bastard was going to get the desk lamp cracked over his head. The situation that she found herself in, was entirely and unmistakably his fault. That masochistic, foul smelling prick had, had enough gull to decide for her that this vacation was 'good for her.' In exactly what way was any part of this 'vacation' a good idea? So far she had been physically assaulted, she was emotionally exhausted and her mental status was far from well. At this point she could only hope that the rental house would be solid enough to keep out anyone who dared to attempt to come after her. In the same moment that thought crossed her mind, she came upon a small shack of a house that had one outside light on, a snapping german shepherd in a poorly constructed pin and a generator running on one side of the house. Emily slowed down for a moment and-ignoring the unnerving snap of the shepherd's jaws-scanned the property for any signs of the owner. The wood of the shack held the same weather worn, rotted look that the bar had exhibited. There were various shingles missing from the rooftop and the windows were so coated with dirt that she could barely make out the yellow lighting pouring from it's interior. Again she felt the hairs of her neck slowly stand up, her heart began to change it's rhythm as another flood of adrenaline shot through her veins and goose bumps crept slowly across her shoulders in an attempt to warn her of unknown danger. For whatever reason, she ignored it's cries of caution and instead she just sat there for a few minutes looking over the outdated, rotting house that someone called home. Every nerve in her body was telling her to press the gas pedal to the floor and not to stop until she reached her destination. But something else was holding her here, there was something about this place that had caused her physical paralysis. It would occur to her later that it was the same physical paralysis that Mac had the ability to invoke in her.
Only when she heard the rumble of a beat up chevy silverado and she watched it pull up to the front of the house, did she realize exactly what about this place had caused her such anguish. Through the dust coated window, she could just barely make out the familiar silhouette of the very man she was attempting to avoid. In that moment her body memory peaked, reminding her of his ability to turn her legs into jello and to cause her whole body to shiver with arousal. The swollen bud beneath her cotton panties began to throb once again and the ache between her legs that she had been trying to ignore, came back with a vengeance. Emily unconsciously shifted in her seat, trying to ignore the wetness that was gathering between her thighs. When Mac finally climbed from the truck and began to head toward the house, her body began to tingle with excitement and fear. The sight of him as he drunkly stumbled toward the house with a cigarette perched between his chapped lips, was enough to make her bite her lip. Although her body begged for him, her mind knew that he was a dangerous adventure to explore. Emily licked her lips before digging her teeth firmly into the tender flesh of her bottom lip, hoping that the pain would counteract the pleasure and not add to it. Mac had just made contact with the bottom step- his boot steps so hard due to his consumption of alcohol that she could hear it through the open passenger window-when suddenly he paused. In her crippled state, Emily could not find the strength in her leg to move from the break to the gas pedal, so there was nothing she could do to avoid what happened next. He slowly lifted his head and turned to look in her direction.
In the dim glow of his security light, she should not have been able to make out those piercing dark blues, but somehow she could. Emily could even see the little familiar glimmer of knowing that had come across them when he managed to spot her. For a moment they just sat there that way, him staring her down as if she was his evening meal and her staring with fearful eyes at the man who she could not seem to escape. A grin began to spread slowly across his lips before he took another slow drag of his cigarette and licked his lips as the smoke was exhaled from his lungs. Emily swallowed hard as her body began to shake with uncontrollable fear. Every inch of her was trembling with fear and yet she could not make her body move. There was nothing she could do to regain control and make herself leave from this situation. In one simple move, Mac had reached in once more and ripped out her self control. He had taken any courage and crushed it throughly under his steel toed boot. Without saying a word to her, his body had told her that she 'belonged to him and that she always would belong to him'. The moment she had crossed the border into Caineville, he had claimed ownership over her, even before she knew of his existence. Somehow he could dominate her into complete submission and he did not have to lay a hand on her to do so. As quick gasps of terror left Emily's lips, she swallowed hard and continued to stare at him. Those dark blues never left her as he turned slowly toward her and began to make his way toward her car. The sound of his boots as they crushed the sand beneath them, drifted up to her ears, sending chills down her spine. They reminded her of what Anthony would do with those boots and the pain that they were capable of causing, if she failed to obey him. The crunch of the sand mocked her inability to make herself move from her place. Time seemed to slow down as she watched him moving toward her, his body swaying from the amount of alcohol he had consumed. The muscles of his arms flexed under his shirt as they swayed back an forth, every step he took was one of ownership, as if the entire valley belonged to him. There was a certain cockiness in the way he moved that let her know, he was well aware of what his presence was doing to her body and mind. Emily's eyes scanned over his form repeatedly as he closed the gap between her car and him. It was a good thing that she did scan his form because on his journey to her, he reached in his rear pocket and pulled out something that just barely caught the light of his security lighting. She squinted in the dim light as she attempted to figure out what he was now carrying in his right hand. When she finally realized what it was, she looked quickly from it back up to those dark pools and what she saw in them helped her to snap out of her paralysis. Within those glazed over, never ending blues, she found every answer to every question she had previously had about him. There was lust, violence and something else that just send a chill down her spine that spread through the rest of her body, coming to rest in her stomach.
In one brief moment, she began to get flashes of the words she had written about Anthony and she felt a shocked realization over take ever bit of her. Mac was not Anthony, he was worse than him and some great evil had allowed this man to live. Not only was he a real person, but he was capable of doing so many things to her and out in this secluded place, he would get away with it. That thought, coupled with his proximity to her, was enough to make her slam her foot on the accelerator and head for the safety of her rental. A cloud of dust and rocks kicked up behind the car as she fishtailed her way away from that nightmare of a man. The last time that she sped away from this man, she did not see his image in her rearview mirror. But this time, when she glanced up into her mirror to see if he was following her, she found him standing in the road, watching her exit. Emily pressed the accelerator a little closer to the floor in an attempt to get away from him faster, at the same time she fought to keep the car from fishtailing off the narrow stretch of unpaved road. Before she could stop herself, tears came streaming down her cheeks and her breathing turned into short choking, gasps. She struggled to breath through the uncontrollable sobs. In some ways she had resigned herself to her unavoidable fate, but in others she was still telling herself that she was going to be alright. Even if she did not fully believe the lies, they were enough to keep her from driving off the side of the road. They were also enough to remind her that she did have some safety, even in hell.
After a few miles, she finally found the home that her publisher had rented out for her. It was difficult make out in the moonlight and without her halogen lights, she might have missed it entirely. There were still tears streaming down her cheeks as she pulled up in front of the sand colored two story home. Emily parked the car as close to the house as she could without running into the side of it, right now she did not trust anything around her. As much as she wanted to jump out of the car and run inside, she decided against it. For all she knew, Mac knew how to make his way over to this house and for all she knew, he was already waiting inside. It was not that far away from his property and there was plenty of cover for him to hide behind if a car should happen to pass by him on his way here. With a slow, calming sigh, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and palmed her boot dagger. Then she reached in the back seat, grabbed her bag and stepped out of the car. Every move she made was calculated and cautious. Emily surveyed the property for any sighs of unwanted company. In one corner of the property she found a broken down shed, that would be the perfect place for someone to hide. She stared into the darkness of the little shack in an attempt to determine if she did have extra company. But it was so dark outside that she would not be able to see someone unless she had a flashlight and she had not packed one. So, she turned back toward the house and scanned every window and door to see if there was any sign that someone else had been there. When she did not see any signs of a break in, she pulled the house keys from her pocket with her free hand and fished for the keys to the house. As she was sliding the correct key into the lock and turning it, she felt her back goose bump and the paralysis began to work it's way through her body. The feeling of someone watching her began to press at the middle of her spine and cause her hands to tremble. Emily swallowed hard before turning to look in the direction that she felt the gaze coming from, the shed. Those fear filled baby blues scanned the darkness of the shed and they found the target of her anxiety. It slowly shifted from one foot to another like a coiled cobra weaving back and forth, ready to strike. On shaky legs, she began to back toward the house, her hand turning the door handle as she did. From the shadowy interior of the rickety old shed, she heard his mocking voice began to call her name.
"Emmilllyy," He said in a sing song tone.
As she was slamming the door, she heard him erupt into uncontrollable laugher echoing just outside. With tears filling her eyes once again, she bolted the door behind her and backed away, as if he would come through it at any moment. While she stared at the white interior door, her hand gripping the handle of her boot dagger with all her might, a thought occurred to her. How did he beat her to the house? It was at least a two mile drive and that took her a good five minutes. In that moment she realized that he did know the ins and outs of Caineville. He knew how to get around without being seen and quickly. Emily glanced around the entranceway, looking for anything that would give her an advantage in this unfair fight. The only thing close to her were two light switches, one of which she hoped would light enough of the yard around her that she would not need a flash light to see into the shed. In a desperate attempt to gain some upper ground, she flipped on both of the switches. The yard was lit by two old halogen bulbs, which cast a yellowish glow on everything the light touched. When she finally worked up the courage to unbolt and open the door, she found that although she could see in the shed now, no one was occupying it. Feeling a little more bold, she decided to step out into the yard and head toward the direction she heard her stalker speak from. Trying to convince not only herself but Mac that she was not afraid, she began to provoke him.
"Come on you bastard! I'm right here!"
Emily stormed toward the shed with vigor now, her footsteps more defiant and confident. She was determined not to let him shake her foundations anymore. Even if she was attempting to display a confident, fearful persona, she still felt her heart began to increase its' rhythm again as she drew closer to that corner of the yard. The smell of mold and dust drifted up to her nose as she slowly peered inside. There were various power tools that littered the interior and dust covered most every one of them. As she was looking around, trying to find any sign of him, she realized that there was no room for a person to fit in that building. Not unless they wished to balance on top of the rusted out four wheeler that took up most of the space. Emily furrowed her brow in frustration and disbelief before she slowly backed away from the shed. She was careful to look all around while she backed slowly toward the door of the house. Nothing in the yard or around the house suggested that anyone but her had been there. So now she had to wonder if she heard anything at all. Was her paranoia becoming so strong that her mind was now beginning to lose all touch with reality and instead creating horrific delusions in which to torture her? In her exhausted state, it was difficult to deduce what was really happening. Emily knew the longer she delayed sleep and the longer she stayed in this place, the worse things would become. The next best thing for her would be to lock herself safely inside of the house and attempt to sleep through the night. Unfortunately for her, things would get worse before they got better and she would not make it through the night without incident.