#abner

it was a dark, quiet october evening. leaves were falling from the trees, some rain was dripping from the sky. you’ve always liked the fall and the cold. it made you feel at peace.

the basement was dark, only one lamp burning, but you weren’t scared. you were waiting for the laundry machine to finish. your family was out, so you had the whole house to yourself. it was nice, you would probably go watch some tv later on.

suddenly, a strange sensation hit you, like you were being watched. you looked around, and nothing. you started to feel uneasy. you couldn’t quite put your finger around it, but now you were certain that there was someone else in that basement.

then, you heard a whisper. it sounded like someone- or something calling for your name. you froze. ”who’s there?” you called out. nothing. the sound of the washing machine was the only thing you heard. ’that’s it, i’m done’ you thought. you were to get out of that basement to walk your dog. you took a step.

and that’s when you saw it. emerging from the shadows. it was a tall, broad figure standing in the corner of the room. just standing there. you let out a gasp, and took a step back. you couldn’t get any words from your mouth. the figure stepped into the light. you let out a scream. a man. tall, broad-shouldered. long, black hair. white skin and a mouth covered in a dark, blood-like substance. white, piercing eyes. dead eyes. this thing was not human.

you screamed again, this time louder. you heard your dog barking upstairs. the man- or the thing started walking towards you, slowly. you gasped, and took steps back. ”stay back!” you yelled out. the man’s mouth opened, and carved into a smile. this was not a kind smile, oh no. this was the most terrifying thing you’ve ever seen. he was staring at you. and then, he started laughing. again, not a kind laugh. a deep, intense, horrifying laugh. you screamed in terror, and started sprinting backwards. ”where do you think you’re going?” the man suddenly spoke with a deep voice, not a human one. it almost sounded like multiple voices merged into one. you hit the wall, and froze completely. you started sobbing.

the man spoke again. ”don’t cry, i’m not gonna hurt you”, he said it with an evil grin, almost sarcastic. now he was standing in front of you. you could hear his heavy breathing. you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, you closed your eyes and started twirling your cross-necklace between your fingers, and started praying ”our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”,-

”thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil”, the man cut you off and started repeating the words in a mocking tone.

”think god’s gonna save you, little girl?” he whispered. then he grabbed your head, and made you look up to him. his face was even more terrifying up close. you turned your head, but he made you look again. you cried out even more. ”shh, don’t be scared. i’m gonna take good care of you”, he crooned.

the man started touching you. he slowly caressed your thighs, and moved his hands to your stomach. he twirled the fabric of your slip dress between his fingers. ”such a pretty dress, you wore this for me?” he said with an amused voice. ”you’ve been sensing being watched, right?” he continued. ”no, that’s not-” you whined. ”lying is a sin, isn’t it?” the man said, and chuckled. his hands moved up to your breasts, as he grabbed one into his hand. he moved his mouth to your neck, and you could feel him breathing you in. you were shaking.

he kissed you suddenly. his mouth crashed into yours without a warning, and you could taste the blood on his lips. you shut your mouth as hard as you could. he noticed it, and as a response pinched your nipple so hard that you let out a whine. then he pushed his tongue into your mouth. you sobbed into the kiss. you couldn’t breathe. the only thing you felt was the ghosts tongue twirling in your mouth, and his hands that were now everywhere on your body. the ghosts other hand was in your hair, keeping your head still and the other one was grabbing your ass.

he finally let go, and you let out an exhausted gasp. ”please, no more…” you begged. the man grinned, and cupped your cheek with one hand. ”i’m only getting started”,

the ghost started placing sloppy kisses down your neck. then you felt a sharp pain on your skin, he had bit you. he slowly went down to your breasts, and continued biting and sucking your nipples. you whined, as the pain and other sensations were hard to handle.

he then went down to your stomach. you had a bad feeling. he moved onto your inner thigh, and started pulling the hem of your dress up. ”no, please…” you cried out. ”shh”, the ghost didn’t say anything. he was caressing your stomach while pulling down your underwear. soon you were laid bare in front of him. ”so pretty”, the man whispered with a terrifying voice. he looked up to you, grinning, his eyes piercing into your soul.

then his mouth crashed onto your cunt. you let out a pitiful scream. his tongue was twirling around your clit violently one moment, and the other his whole mouth was on you, sucking. the noises disgusted you.

”you taste like a blessing”, the ghost said, again, mockingly. he continued, now more focused on your clit. you started to feel a warm sensation in your stomach. then he pushed his two fingers inside you, while still sucking on your clit. you let out a moan, and he chuckled into your cunt. ”aren’t you supposed to be a sweet girl of god?” he teased, while continuing the assault. you couldn’t deny that it felt amazing. but you couldn’t admit it to him, at least directly. but your mouth was starting to speak for itself. you let out more moans, as the pressure was now building up. suddenly, you felt an explosive sensation rushing into you. your legs were shaking. ”already? you’re a little whore, aren’t you?” the man mumbled.

”i’m not done, though”, he continued, and put his tongue on your clit again. your legs were trembling violently. ”please, s- stop”, you gasped, but the man just chuckled and kept going.

he now had at least three fingers inside of you, and you could feel the squirt dripping onto the concrete floor. you could feel the second orgasm building up. you were panting, tears still covering your face. but you weren’t crying anymore. the second orgasm hit you like a truck, it was stronger this time. the ghost swallowed the liquid bursting out of you, and then slowly lifted his head up. he was grinning. ”you took that so well”, he said.

he stood up, and grabbed you by the waist. ”turn around”, he ordered. you didn’t obey, so he turned you around with a violent twist. he pushed your hands to the wall, and pushed himself to your ass. ”you feel that?” he said, clearly amused. you definitely could feel his dick through his jeans, pressed against your ass.

you could hear him unzipping his pants. you froze in fear. you couldn’t bare yourself to beg for mercy anymore, you knew that it was pointless. and besides, there was some part of you that was waiting for it.

he caressed your ass, and then without a warning, pushed himself inside you with a terrifying force. you let out a scream. it was huge, barely fitting into you.

he strarted thrusting, not slowly at first, no, but with a force so strong you were sure you would be split in half. ”i- it hurts”, you let out a whine. the ghost just laughed, and continued.

he suddenly slapped your ass so hard that it would surely leave a mark. ”such a tight little thing, aren’t you?” the man whispered, without a hint of tiredness in his voice. he could do this all night. you felt your hair being pulled. he grabbed you closer to himself, and twirled your cross between his fingers. ”god isn’t here, huh?” he teased. he was right. god really wasn’t there.

he fucked you for what could have been forever, you could almost feel yourself passing out. but finally, he let out a groan, and you felt his hot semen pouring inside you. he let go of your hair. you almost fell, but he catched you into his arms.

he looked at you with that same, terrifying grin. but this time, something was a little different. it was almost like there was some tenderness there. but maybe you were crazy. ”go take a shower now, your family will be home soon” the spirit said, almost kindly. you nodded, and started walking up the stairs.

but suddenly you felt him grabbing you by the waist, and pulling you to him. ”you’re mine now, get it?” he whispered. ”i’ll be back every night, and you aren’t to sleep with anyone else but me. i’ll kill them at sight”, he continued. you froze, shivers going down your spine. ”say you’re mine”, he demanded. ”i- i’m yours”, you whispered. you heard a satisfied chuckle, and by that, he was gone.

part two:

You knew she was not one to judge, she had problems of her own.

Your hushed conversations as you left church together usually ended with her expressing that ‘he was getting worse’ and that ‘she wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to live under the same roof as him anymore’.

The him in question being her husband of course, the tall mysterious man who had invaded your town a few years ago and had snatched Catherine up within a few weeks, decorating her ring finger with a silver band before anyone had even learned his last name.

She had anywsys said his eagerness had been flattering and part of you couldn’t blame her. You couldn’t even remember a time your husband had been so hungry to make you his.

Spoiler alert, he never was.

Your thoughts trailed on and on until you ended up at their door, the paint peeling and revealing the rotting wood underneath.

You hands and fingers were frozen as you reached up to knock on their door, knuckles so stiff and numb you didnt even feel the hard wood as you tapped tapped tapped.

Sniffing quietly to yourself, you reached up to adjust your soaking wet hair and wiped your running nose, what a mess you must resemble.

Seconds turned to minutes as you patiently waited, the wind pushing against your back - almost gently nudging you into the door.

Please answer, you thought. Don’t make me go back there, dont make me go back to him..

You felt your lip tremble, both from the cold and the knowledge that you’d have to turn back around and trudge your way back to your home in the dark.

Until you heard the familiar creek of their doorknob turn, the wood groaning as the door was forcefully pulled open and a tall body filled the gap.

Gulping, your regret sparked up at his aggressive entrance - lowering your head you tried to hide your sheepishness.

‘I’m really sorry to disturb you both at a time like this Adriel, I-..I wasn’t sure where else to go. Is Catherine there?’ You glanced up just in time to see Adriel’s long nose twitch as if what you said had disgusted him.

You were met with his silence and he seemed to mule over your question.

‘And if she isn’t?’

Your lips parted, taken aback slightly at the bite in his tone.

Well where else would she be? You thought, brows furrowing in confusion and suspicion.

You already knew he wasn’t one to let her leave the house unattended, she had said so herself. He had a nasty habit of keeping her trapped in the house, safe for your weekly food shopping and Sunday mass.

‘Oh, er-‘ You stammered, feeling embarrassed and out of place. ‘Do you know when she’ll be back?’

He regarded you quietly, chin tilting up and to the side slightly as he pondered an answer. You could almost see the lightbulb flicker on in his head if you had looked hard enough…you didnt.

‘Soon, come in.’ He stepped to the side, his broad shoulders moving and giving you a sight into the dark house.

Again, you stalled - noticing the lack of light..anywhere in the house.

Strange, the warmth that usually glowed from their homey country house seemed like it had dimmed and died completely - leaving a sad, hollow and eerie skeleton behind.

You felt as if you had walked into something you shouldn’t have, like a parasite trying to worm its way into their house.

‘No, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’ll stop by tomo-‘ You spoke quietly but he was quicker.

‘I insist.’ The bite in his tone was back, his top lip pulling back into a snarl almost.

His attempt at masking it with a smile failed miserably and only seemed to put you further on edge.

Sensing your lack of usual eagerness and enthusiasm when coming to their home, he reached a hand out - tilting his head in mock kindness.

‘Come on pet, wouldn’t want you top catch a cold standing out in the rain all by yourself.’ His subtle reminder that out here you were indeed alone was enough for you to take his hand and step over into the threshold.

You didn’t look at him as you passed, instead taking in the surrounding - keeping an eye out for any sign of Catherine.

‘Again I’m really sorry to barge in on you both like this, I just- I wasn’t sure who else I could go to.’ You explained again once you both had walked into the dark living room.

No candles, no fireplace. Weren’t they cold? It was the beginning of winter after all and with a house like this, so out in the open. Surely it would be freezing for them?

‘Don’t waste your breath, you know you’re welcome here. Sit.’

You nodded in submission, not wanting to push your luck anymore than you already had.

You watched him stare at you before leaving silently, a chill crawling its way up your back at the thought of you being alone together.

Thoughts of what Catherine had been telling you over the last few weeks pushing to the front of your mind.

Apparently something has shifted between them, a distance had wedged itself and while Catherine seemed to enjoy the smaller newfound freedom, Adriel only seemed to grow more feral each day.

Things had started to be broken, plates thrown and smashed, furniture torn and ripped with his hunting knife.

You even recall her saying that he had once held it to her once, lips pulled into a snarl as he accused her of all sorts of things.

Things you knew yourself to be false. While you might not know her as well as her husband, you knew she was no cheat.

You swallowed as you sat down, tucking your knees together and smoothing out your dress as your eyes wondered the dark room.

Surely turning on a lamp wouldn’t hurt?

You were reaching over to their small side table before you had even thought it through, hand reaching under the lamp shade and blindly feeling for the switch before gently flicking it.

The light flickered briefly before straining on, basking the room in a low light.

It was only when you pulled back your hand from under its cone of fabric that you notice the blood.

Your hand was smeared with it, from the palm all the way to your still cold numb fingertips - the same hand he had lead you into the house with.

You immediately felt the pit of your stomach drop, your heartbeat thrumming up and beginning to pound at your ears - face warming with dread and fear.

Something wasn’t right.. you had felt it from the minute he had opened the door.

And still, there you were sat at his couch - how stupid you were.

You glanced down at your white dress, seeing that the fabric was also stained from where you had adjusted yourself, hands and shoulders shaking as the danger of the situation settled.

Where was Catherine?

Where was he?

The uncanny silence had a newfound sinister feeling, your body shaking and you reached back to to extinguish the light, drowning the room in darkness once more.

If you could get back to the front door, he wouldn’t even be able to notice your absence.

You imagined sprinting for your life once you got outside, readying yourself as you stood to your feet.

The wooden floor creaked and groaned under your weight, the bones of this house must’ve been at least a decade old.

Creeping in the dark felt like a sick game of cat and mouse, peeking your head around the corner of the hallway to see where he had disappeared off to.

You couldn’t hear his footsteps and with his size and built you knew you would’ve been able to.

You felt like a shadow, keeping your footsteps light and slow and you crept on, reaching a hand out on the wall to feel your way out.

The surface was smooth and cold, the shredded wallpaper scraping your fingers until you touched something softer, something warmer.

You shrieked in horror, attempting to pull your hand back like it was on fire but it was too late.

You don't understand how you didn't see him at first, he was as big as a giant - with his widespread shoulders and long legs that made him crouch under most doorway.

Yet the leanness of his build served him well and he blended in easily, too easily for your unsuspecting eyes.

He gripped your hand hard, almost crushing your smaller fingers as he chuckled - the sound was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

He really was a madman you thought, feet stumbling as you tried yanking your hand back, unable to break free from his hold on you.

He wasted no time moving in on you, pulling you to him as he lured closer, tipping his head down as if to have a better look at your horrified expression.

‘What’s wrong dolly? Why the long face?’ He downturned his lips like a party clown, brows dipping in mock sadness.

You had no words, squirming as he drew closer - his nose was a featherlight touch from yours and you screwed up your face in disgust when the smell hit you all at once, coppery and metallic.

The tang made your teeth ache and you recoiled instinctively but he only followed, as if drawn in by your revulsion.

‘Please let me go, you’re hurting my hand.’ Your voice was meek and shaky, just as much as the rest of you was.

He didn’t respond, the silence defeating as the creaks of the house filled the void, only serving as a reminder that you were all alone with him.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, the rise of his chest slow and deliberate as though he were forcing patience into his veins.

The smirk that had lingered on his mouth fell away, vanishing into something harder, emptier.

Then, just as quickly, it returned - his lips curling with a venomous edge.

This time it wasn’t a smile at all, darkler and more evil than you thought a human expression could ever become.

He licked his tongue over the front of his teeth, an action you could only describe as animal-like, a predator fantasising and salivating at the thought of what his prey might taste like.

He bet you were sweet enough to make his teeth rot right out his mouth if he sucked hard enough.

‘Of course’

Your hand flew back to your chest with a startled thump, heart hammering against your ribs harder than it ever had before.

You hadn’t expected him to surrender it so easily and for a flicker of a second, relief washed over you, warm and dizzing.

Before you could even draw another breath, his bear-like hand shot forward, closing around your throat with a grip far tighter than before.

His blunt nails dug into the fragile skin at your neck, not quite sharp but unforgiving and merciless, dull claws pressing harder and harder.

You could feel your pulse flutter wildly beneath his palm, like a trapped bird and the panic made your vision spark at the edges.

You were sure that if he pressed any deeper, your skin would tear under him like tissue paper.

The thought alone made a sob break free, shuddering through you as your fingers clawed at his wrist, desperate for air and release.

You babbled by like baby, the unrelenting pressure making his face blurry as he drew you up closer to his body.

You felt like a toy stuck in a claw machine, immobile and helpless as you were dragged up the length of his torso to your prize winner who revelled in his victory. You felt his grip beginning to match the thumping of your heart, loosening and tightening on beat as he laughed sickly, mocking your poor little heart as it tried to beat its way out your chest.

Just as you felt yourself slipping away, dark spots begining to float over his face, he flung you back - your body reaching halfway down the hall before landing with a harsh and loud bang.

You felt your head smack the floor, your brain not even registering the pain as it was once again supplied with much needed oxygen.

You felt drunk, eyes blinking open as you leaned up on your elbows, one hand coming to rest of your aching head.

You watched his shadow step away from the wall, swift and casual as he turned to face you from the bottom of the hallway - the front door behind him illuminated like a sick joke, a taunt that you had been so so close.

His figure swayed left to right, almost as if he was dancing as he made his way to where you were still laying - the floor shaking and creaking with every step.

It almost felt like a countdown, your time running out the bigger his fame got.

That was enough to kickstart your need to get away, legs scrambling and you turned and crawled away - mind still fuzzy when you got to your feet.

You knew this was quickly turning into a life and death situation, it was you or him.

Your options were dwindling, there was no way you'd be able to get out the house with him blocking the only passage out.

Catherine had told you that he always kept the windows locked, your memory replaying how many times shed complain about the house feeling too stuffy with the lack of fresh outside air.

Now you knew first hard that the lack of ventilation wasn't the only thing that seemed to suck all of the air out the room, his presence alone was enough.

Your only other option was getting something to defend yourself with, something that would send a shock to his system and hopefully keep him at arms length enough for you to make run for it.

The only thing you knew would be perfect was down in the basement and you had one shot to make it, a shot that needed to be worth the risk of cornering yourself down there.

You only prayed that firing a shotgun was as easy as it looked.

Your shoes pounded the floor, vibrating up your legs as you sprinted away from him - huffing out as you tried to regain control of your breathing.

The basement door was cracked open and you slammed your palm against it, the door crashing into the basement wall.

You didn’t care.

The darkness terrified you but the laughs that grew louder every second scared you even more.

You took the steps two at a time, your buckling knees weak with enough fear that you were half falling down them, hand tight on the railing to balance yourself.

You didn’t think, you just fled - running to anywhere he was not.

The air grew colder the lower you went, thick with dust and something that clung wet in the back of your throat.

You couldn’t see but that also meant he wouldn’t be able to either.

You then felt yourself trip and stumble, your balance completely leaving you as you crumbled to the floor in a heap of tears.

Your knees took most of the fall and you whimpered in pain as you turned to sit on your bottom, hands laid out beside you as you looked at what had tripped you up.

You froze.

Her body was slumped where you’d tripped, hair matted to the stone, lifeless eyes glassed wide and staring through you.

Her nightdress was torn open, stained dark as the wound in her chest leaked like a second mouth.

You were lying in a pool of her.

Catherine.

Your palms sank into it, sticky and warm despite the chill in the air. Fresh. You lifted your hands and they glistened back in the faint light from the basement windows.

Blood. It was so much..

She soaked your clothes, your skin.

You gagged, the smell too much for you as tears erupted from your eyes - the heartbreaking mourning for your longtime friend already enveloping your heart.

This was a violent attack and the closer you looked, the more wounds you saw. Her head, her neck, her everything.

She had been brutally hacked to death, the aggression clear as daylight even in the darkness and you were sure even a bear attack would’ve been more merciful.

You cried for her and for yourself.

You knew you were next, you couldn’t even bring yourself to stand - your heart sinking so low into your chest that you were sure it was in your belly.

On cue, you heard the basement door reopen - the sound of something heavy and metal dragging along the wood of the door followed by a sick and twisted humming.

You lifted your tearful gaze, a desperate part of you wanting to lean over and embrace your dead friend, wanting her lifeless arms to cradle you back as if to comfort you one last time.

The thought made you cry harder.

‘Aw, no tears please pet.’ His voice dripped with condescension above.

From the ground, the world tilted up in a nightmarish angle.

The basement door hung open above you, the faintest glow from the house spilling in just enough to frame his silhouette.

He filled the doorway completely, a towering figure blotting out what little light there was, nothing but a dark mass of shoulders and legs.

You watched as he slowly descended the steps, each step he took down into the stairwell made him loom larger, his shadow stretching long over you, swallowing you whole.

You then saw the axe, glinting and taunting you as he drew closer and closer, the sound of its heavy metal head scraping the walls growing louder.

‘What did you do to her?’ Your voice was meek, shuffling back in the dark to try and add some distance between you.

He didn't bother with an answer - instead he only laughed harder, the noice raw and bellowing as he widened his smile.

His final step down onto the cobble flooring silenced everything - the groan of the wooden steps, the echo of his laughter.

Even your own breath stilled, caught in your chest as though holding it could somehow make you invisible, though his gaze had already pinned you in place, digging straight into your soul.

The only thing between you both was Catherine's poor lifeless body and you sobbed harder.

This was it.

‘Save your sorrow dolly, she was no less filthy than that sly husband of yours.’

Gone was his humour, his expression was cracked and on edge - tip lip lifting as his nose twitched in aggression.

You shook your head, crawling up onto your hunches - knees slipping in the dark crimson bath.

‘You’re wrong, she..she wasn’t like that at all! She loved you Adriel…so much-‘ You were cut off by your own scream as he lurched at you, the axe swinging dangerously close to your head.

You scrambled back, crying out your pleas as he erupted into a fireball of anger.

The sharp edge of the blade imbedded itself into the one of the wooden beams surrounding you, the sound of the wood chopping and falling away.

He left it there as he moved in on you, his huge mass of a body moving too quick and too swift.

He gripped your throat once again, pulling you up from the floor so much so that the tips of your toes barely brushed the ground.

‘Is that what you think?’ He taunted, daring you to disagree with him again.

You pressed your lips together, your face soaked in your tears as they ran down your cheeks. There was no way they didnt run along his hand, his hold on you tighter then it had been before.

‘Is that what she told you hm? That she loved me?..that she loved you?’

His face broke into a grin and within a second he had lowered you back down to the floor, his grip on your neck still strong as he turned you both around.

He made you face towards the stairs, stepping closer so his front was to your back.

You felt trapped as he held you, now stood between him and his wife’s corpse.

You ears pricked like a dog’s, hypersensitive to any sound he made, as he reached just ahead - the metal buckle of his dungarees clinking as he took hold of the light cord, tugging with little effort.

You flinched as the light sputtered, dimming before flooding the dingy room with a dark wavering orange glow.

Nausea twisted in your gut, yet you couldn’t stop your gaze from sinking to the floor before you.

Some dark, perverse part of you was curious, compelled, though you had never witnessed anything like this before.

You swallowed, Adriel’s hand loosening his hold on your throat slightly as if to let you.

You gagged again, your whole body convulsing as the scene tore itself deeper into your vision.

Every detail screamed at you - too vivid, too raw to look away from.

Her blood wasn’t just seeping, it gushjed in rivers, thick and dark, pooling beneath her like the floor itself was trying to drink her dry.

Her skin wasn’t just torn - it was shredded, cleaved open in jagged layers where the axe had struck again and again, carving flesh until bone showed and peeked through.

Chunks of muscle hung loose and her limbs looked hacked at in desperation…as if he had been determined to sever them but had missed his mark over and over..until nothing resembled what it once was.

You choked on your sobs, hands pressed to your mouth to cage the scream clawing its way up, while his grip on you only tightened, forcing you to witness every grotesque detail.

You trembled violently, body quaking as you shoved back against him, desperate to put even an inch of distance between yourself and her..between yourself and the image already burning itself into your mind.

‘Shh, shh…’ His whisper was low and coaxing, almost tender if not for the iron grip at your throat.

He bent into your space, long strands of black hair brushing your skin, his nose grazing the hollow beneath your ear.

‘Look, dolly. See anything familiar?’ he goaded, his fingers tightening around your throat before giving you a slight, taunting shake.

Your head lolled, your body caught between hyperdrive and complete shutdown.

You obeyed, you had no choice.

His eyes were on you, waiting and you knew you’d do anything, anything, to avoid ending up like her.

You had already seen what he was capable of and the thought of him turning that same violence on you..or worse made your entire frame quake.

You forced yourself to look, to trace her ruined body from head to toe.

Her pale, rolled-back eyes seemed to mock you as you scanned but then your stomach sank further. The dress, ripped, shredded and soaked through.

However it still carried the trace of a delicate, fairy-like design.

One you knew.

One that was yours.

Your lips trembled.

‘Is…is that my dress?’ You stammered, praying you had guessed right. A desperate attempt to satisfy him, to give him what he wanted before he forced you closer.

The sound he made was low, approving - almost affectionate.

A hum of contentment as if you had pleased him by playing your part exactly as he intended.

‘And why would a whore like her be wearing one of your pretty little dresses?’ he murmured, voice edged with cruel amusement as he gave you a sharp nudge.

His grip shifted, steering you forward, slowly and deliberately, toward where she lay crumpled.

You whimpered, digging your heels into the ground in a desperate attempt to resist, your feet skidding uselessly as his strength dragged you closer regardless.

‘I don’t know! Please just stop, I don’t want to look anymore!’ you begged, your voice breaking, shrill and desperate.

In an instant, his grip shifted.

He released your throat only to seize your waist with both hands, spinning you around so violently it knocked the air from your lungs.

The sudden change in him was terrifying - the softness gone, replaced by raw anger and frustration.

You sobbed harder, your body wracked with helpless shudders.

‘Think!’ He hissed, his voice cracking with feral demand as he shook you hard enough to rattle your teeth.

Your hands shot up to shield your face, swiping at the hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

‘Move your hands. Now.’

You folded in on yourself, gasping for breath, retreating into a child’s defense as if hiding could undo him.

Slowly and with shaking hands you lowered your them, eyes swollen and raw. Your lips trembling as a pitiful whimper escaped.

The sight seemed to ignite him.

His gaze devoured you - wild and hungry, a predator desperate to force you to see what he wanted.

His eyes burned with the ferocity of a starving beast and you knew he wouldn’t stop until you gave him what he demanded.

There was also something disturbingly intimate in the way he looked at you, as though your fear itself was precious to him.

‘I honestly don’t know.’ you forced out, trying to level your voice.

‘The only way she could’ve got hold of your clothes,’ he murmured, letting the words draw out like a knife, ‘..was if she had been in your house.’ His gaze burned into you, unrelenting.

‘Who do you think opened the door for her?’

You went still.

The truth slid into your bones like ice water, numbing and suffocating.

For months, months, you had bared yourself to her, confessing every insecurity, every fracture in your marriage, every secret you thought was safe.

And all along, she had been the source of it.

She had been in your house.

In your bed.

In your clothes.

Anger surged hot and violent, curling your hands into fists at your sides.

Your chest heaved with the weight of it but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Adriel - not when it meant that you had to face that he had been right all along.

But none of it could excuse what he had done.

You looked up at him with a newfound confidence.

‘You murdered her.’ The words fell from you like a verdict, cold and final. He grinned at you, slow and pleased.

He closed the distance, hauling you belly to belly until you could feel the hard press of him against your ribs. You didn’t react, part of you felt already dead.

‘You disgust me,’ you spat, each syllable a blade. ‘All this because you couldn’t stomach your wife running into another man’s arms.’

Something in him then snapped.

The grin peeled away, his eyes narrowed until nothing but a void was left. Veins stood out along his jaw, the calm folding into something raw and cold.

His hands tightened on your waist until the ribs beneath your breastbone pressed sharp and hot.

You couldn’t breathe, a gargled sound leaving your lips.

He let go as if your small, ragged sound meant nothing.

In the same movement he pivoted to the battered wooden beam where the axe was buried, the metal wedge still driven home.

He wrenched it free, the blade came out with a wet, tearing pop, wood splinters scattering across the floor.

The axe head swung heavy on its shaft, a living weight in his hands.

For the first time you saw the plan behind his actions as he moved with the efficiency of someone who had practiced violence until it was muscle-memory.

You saw an opening and without hesitationjn took it, adrenaline shoving you forward like a tidal tide.

You whirled around, lungs burning and for one wild second you thought you might make it.

If you could just put distance between you and that dark, swarm of anger he'd become.

Catherine's body lay between you and the stairs leading to the basement door, a grotesque obstacle blocking your path out.

You tried to vault her - one frantic, clumsy step to get over the contorted limbs of her body.

As soon as you had made it over her, spearing her with one last farewell in your head, you lunged for the steps but as soon as you grazed the bottom step with the sole of your foot, you felt the whoosh from his axe.

The wooden step under you vibrated as it was violently pieced beside your foot, cracking and popping as he retracted the weapon.

You screamed, hands reaching for the banister and you tried to climb your way up.

He was on you in an instant, his large oversized paw grabbing and twisting your ankle cruelly before he dragged you right back downto hell.

You landed on top of her, horror clawing its way out your throat before he descended onto you, crushing your body into hers.

‘Stupid little girl.’ His voice shook with rage, the axe still in his hold - except now he had replaced the wooden handle with the metal head.

He pressed the blade to your cheek and you could feel that whatever blood was left on it was smearing across your cheek.

‘Murderer!’ You batted back at him, turning your face from the blade as you looked towards the stairs, praying that someone, anyone, would save you.

You sobbed to yourself, feeling his unwavering crazed gaze on you, your irritated eyes starting up again as clear streams left them.

‘Cry for her all you want…but your mouth belongs to me now.’

His words were low and firm and you faltered - he was heard but you couldn’t listen.

He snarled something guttural under his breath, the words lost in his teeth as his grip shifted from the axe’s flat edge.

Fingers like iron clamped your jaw, wrenching your head toward him until your lips crashed against his.

It wasn’t a kiss, it was a violation.

His mouth crushed yours, teeth cutting as if he was trying to eat you whole.

You tried to turn away but the harder you squirmed, the deeper he pressed, shoving you down into Catherine’s cold flesh until her stiff arms and his crushing weight pinned you between the dead and the crazed.

The taste of iron bled into your tongue as his laugh rumbled low in his chest, vibrating through the brutal press of his mouth as his teeth caught on your lip.

His kiss wasn’t tender, was barely even human - it was a claim, a punishment, tainting his hunger across you as though branding you his.

You screwed your face up, the disgust piling up inside you all until you felt like you could explode with it.

Before you could even think it through, your lips curled into a snarl of your own - your teeth lowering into his feigning ones.

You felt the flesh give way as you bit down, your hold on him with your teeth just as tight as the one he had on your face.

You heard a low growl rumble deep in his chest as his hand slipped viciously from your jaw down to your throat, closing like a steel trap and cutting off your airways before he tore his mouth yours.

Blood was streaking down his lip, fresh and dark where you had wounded him.

For a heartbeat he just stared at you, chest heaving,

The look on his face was electric…alive in a way that chilled you to your bones.

He looked intoxicated, drunk on the sight of your struggle as if the mix of pain and defiance had lit something inside him no one had before.

His smile was a slash of red, his teeth stained but his gaze was all hunger - feral, unstoppable and frighteningly pleased.

‘Keep fighting,’ He purred. ‘I want to see it..’

Leaning up on his hunches, knees on either side of your shuddering waist, you cried out as he took his other hand - clawing at the bust of your dress before he ripped it in a downwards motion.

The flimsy fabric gave way almost immediately, the sound sickly and humiliating.

You were bared down to your stomach, nipples puckering up into hardened pebbles as the basement’s cold atmosphere swarmed over your newly exposed skin.

‘I want to feel you break.’ He finalised, grinning so hard that his face almost morphed right in front of you.

You could almost imagine it - horns jutting sharp from his temples, a sinuous tail lashing behind him.

In the wavering light he looked like Satan himself, risen from the pit to drag you down with him.

You sobbed, watching with horrified eyes as he leaned his head down over you - your stomach hollowed inward as a means to escape his intentions.

‘Fucking..get off!’ You spluttered, still unable to take in a full breath before you felt it.

The heat from his tongue was vile and wet, landing just above your pelvis before he slowly and deliberately made his way up.

He dipped his tongue into your bellybutton as he went, his grin growing more feral as he cruelly savoured the salty taste of your terrified sweat.

You thrashed left and right, your hands reaching into his dark hair to yank and pull his roots - anything to push him off but he remained unwavering, indulging on you - all the way up between the valley of your breasts.

His eyes were hooded, lazily watching you and all the cute little expressions you were making.

Unable to take his gaze anymore, you threw your head back - the harsh knowledge that you were both still piled on top of his dead wife slammed you when you felt the hardness of her head, your own aching painfully from the hit.

‘I ought to wash your filthy mouth out with soap.’ He rumbled before he took his other hand, now free after tearing into your dress, and shoved the tips of his middle and ring finger between the gap of your top and bottom teeth.

Hr angled your head back down to him with a harsh pull, stubborn and cruel.

You froze in your shock and he took the opportunity effortlessly, forcing his fingers in until he couldn’t anymore.

You gagged on the salty, metallic taste - images of what he had been doing with these same hands mere hours ago flooding your mind.

The nausea in the pit of your stomach grew heavier, your body retching as you gagged.

The hold on your throat continued to push you further down, the pressure rising until you felt like both you and Catherine would burst through the floor.

He watched, chuckling as he leaned down to your chest. The cold tip of his nose ran gently along your skin, a sickly contrast.

Eventually, his slipped his fingers back so they rested just on your tongue and you heaved, the following silence of the basement left you feeling hopeless and defeated.

You were stuck down here with a madman who had nothing to lose.

You didn’t want to think anymore, losing your eyes as you cried to yourself.

His hair brushed your skin, goosebumps rising in his wake until you felt the heat of his mouth again, this time closing around one of your nipples before suckling.

You felt your knees twitch, itching closer together as your body naturally responded to the unexpected simulation - your mind screaming as you how wrong this was.

He was going to kill you!

You hissed when his teeth teased before biting down, his head pulling back and taking the sensitive peak with him - tugging callously before letting you go.

You attempted to plead him, a gargled ‘Please’ and ‘Let me go’ landing on deaf ears. Instead he just switched to the other, reining the some attention until your nipples felt raw and pulsed.

‘Go on, beg..’ He murmured, ripping his fingers from your mouth before using those same wet digits as he twirled and tugged on one of your hardened buds again.

‘Cath did the same..except she didn’t get so wet.’ He humoured darkly and you whined, shame flooding your bloodstream - hius dark chuckles featherlight against your skin, so hypersensitive to his every movement that you could feel the gaps in his breathing.

Shutting your eyes, you willed your mind to leave your body, locking into his pattered breathes against your skin and hoping your body would numb itself long enough for him to finish whatever the fuck this was.

A sick part of you wished for him to embed his axe in your throat now, was this really a life worth living?

A cheating husband.

A lying best friend.

And a murderous neighbour.

‘Let’s take a look shall we?’ His sentence made you flinch, eyes briefly opening to see that his were already trained on you - dimples popping as he smugly grinned like a cat that got the cream.

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of your begging, tipping your chin away as you felt him remove the ripped remnants of your tainted white dress.

‘How sweet.’

Your lip trembled at his voice, dripping with a newfound need as the frills of your undies came into view.

‘So innocent.. and soft..’ He wasn’t even talking to you anymore, muttering to himself as he trailed down your stomach.

You firmly pressed your lips together and tensed your stomach, his bites on his way down painful and blood-thirsty.

‘I’m sure it’s eating you alive up there.’ He addressed you once more and you peeped down at him.

For once he wasn’t looking at you - eyes solely trained on your restless body.

‘What kind of fool could turn such a delicate flower away for a weed.’ His tone gained a vicious bite towards the end, his hair brushing you as he turned his head back up. His face was serious, any ounce of mockery gone.

His sincerity irked you.

Not because he was wrong…but because what he said had indeed been the truth.

Every night you plucked, pulled and shaved yourself raw, scrubbed your skin pink, slathered yourself in the latest lavender creams from down market. ..you made sure not a single sliver of hair was out of place for your husband and for what?

For him to go dump himself into the nearest whore.

Fresh tears burned your eyes, your lip trembling under the weight of the truth.

Your self-pity was silenced by the insistent tug at your cotton panties.

Your tears fell harder.

‘Not me.’ He whispered before you felt your legs being abruptly pulled apart.

Bear-like hands, far too large to be handling you, pressing flat on the inside of your trembling thighs.

You whimpered as he lifted your knees, your ass lifting slightly from his brute strength as he descended onto your fresh with a feverish hunger.

His tongue was just a large as the rest of him, your lips opening to beautifully for him. Just like a real flower..

You felt him hum hungrily against you before his movements turned almost animalistic.

You could feel the bluntness of his teeth as he sucked one of yours lips into his mouth, sucking harshly until it felt swollen and tender. You struggled against him, back arching at the new sensation.

He was filthy and disgusting.

He quickly moved to the other, repeating the exact same action until your pussy was pulsating with need, your juices dribbling out of you and you flinched at the thought of who they were dripping down onto.

‘Please stop this Adriel.’ You pleaded once more, your tone shifting lower…more needy.

He ignored you.

Instead, he swirled his tongue back down to your sprouting source, lips smacking lewdly as he shoved his tongue into your shallow channel - wedging himself so deep that his nose was pressed to your untouched bud.

You hated the moan that escaped your lips almost as much as the thought of him actually listening to you.

You could feel his long locks of hair brushing your skin as he shook his head, almost as in he was trying to consume you from the inside.

You could feel his tongue moving back and forth out of you, dragging more and more clear wetness with him until he finally moved up to where you were pulsing for him.

You sobbed as his mouth wrapped your clit in heat, sucking just as harshly as he had done to your nipples and lips.

It was loud and messy, the wet sounds scrambling your thoughts as you struggled to pull back and twist out his grip.

‘It’s too much, stop it!’ You begged, hands moving to where his head was - pushing at his slick forehead until he broke away with a sickening pop!

He glared at you - the silence between you, broken only by your combined heavy breathing, tightening around you both.

Neither of you spoke for a beat…until you felt the heat of his body slip away from you completely, your legs like jelly - still open and painfully vulnerable.

Your eyes tracked him until his hand hooked around your leg, dragging you off Catherine’s limp body - the shift disturbing as you almost felt her almost come with you

He yanked you up before shoving you back down, your hands barely saving your face from slapping into the cold concrete as your belly hit the floor.

His sudden movements and manhandling left no room for arguments as you felt him wrap his arms into the dip of your waist and thighs from behind, roughly pulling you up until your lower body was completely off the ground, the blood flooding to your head.

Since he was only kneeling behind you, your elbows balanced your upper body - the position depraved and degrading as he granted himself full access to you.

‘Do not disturb me again.’ His tone was final and you braced yourself - body jerking, unbalanced, as you tried to steady yourself.

Immediately he reined punishment to your sensitive and newly exposed nub, biting and sucking repeated until you screamed and wiggled in his hold - your fight just as unrelenting as his suction to the poor bundle of raw nerves.

‘Stop, please-I’m..fuck begging you Adriel, it hurts.’ You cried over and over again and still he didn’t let up, only pausing to retrace his way back to your hole to gather more of your addictive taste, groaning to himself.

‘So sensitive hm?’ Your tears dripped from your eyes as he paused, his nose tracing your lips and sniffing, inhaling your scent.

‘Your no-good husband never trained you to have your cute little cunt ate?’ He questions before you felt one of his arms wrap around you more secularly, pulling you tigher to his frame to balance you better as his other slid free - moving to trail two thick fingers over your pulsing pussy-hole.

You half moaned half screamed as he wedged a single digit inside - immediately curling towards himself in a come hither motion.

The sensation mixed with the blood flowing to your face was enough to send you over the edge, thighs shaking uncontrollable as he continued to fuck you brutally with his finger, the warmth of his mouth returning as he listening to you peak.

‘Such a good girl for me dolly.’ His voice dripped with need.

You kicked and wailed, the feeling new and unfamiliar - your body felt reduced to an exposed nerve and he pressed against it with deliberate cruelty.

Pushing you harder, he slipped his second finger in along with the first - breaching your tightness with a stubborn forced that refused to do anything but push deeper until his knuckles were pressed flush to your pussylips.

You couldn’t even decipher the noises that left your mouth, babbles and nonsense leaving your cute like fucked out face.

The noises coming from above were disgustingly loud and obscene as he thrusted them mercilessly into you, over and over again.

Adriel grinned as he felt your little pussy open up more with each thrust.

‘No more.’ The breathless words left you as you heaved, trying to recontrol your haywire body.

‘How are you supposed to take my cock in this tight little hole if you don’t let me stretch you out?’ He muttered in between gentle kisses to your clit, gasps leaving you after every one as you shook your head.

‘Please, fuck just- just not that. I’m married Adriel and I cant- I wont.’ Your words were fast and shaking, your elbows begging to ache from holding your weight - shaking with your lack of strength.

His kisses stopped, the heavy sigh he let out blowing air onto your raw pussy.

You winced when you felt him slow his fingers before retracting from inside you, the sound shameful and loud from your wetness.

Of course before he pulled his hand away completely he ran his fingers and down, softly swirling your clit before reaching and pulling back the small hood of skin that hid the complete nerve from him. You shut your eyes in embarrassment, knowing he was staring and that there was nothing you could do about it - you let him, the strain in your body easing slightly in compliance.

He hummed contently to your response.

‘Such a pretty flower.’

Was the last thing he said before he slowly released you, easing you back piece by piece as you felt your body regulate again. He stayed on his knees, watching as he laid you on your side.

The sudden tenderness felt unnerving but you didn’t dare open your mouth, instead you chose to just clench your thighs together and lift your calfs to somewhat cover you.

You looked at his ragged breathing, his wide shoulders heaving as you regarded eachother in silence, the reality of what just happened slapping you in the face.

Never before had you done anything like that.

You didn’t even know such filth could happen between people.

You hated how much you wanted the feeling of his heat on you again.

Bowing your head in shame, overwhelmed by the craving gnawing at you, you stared at the floor. A disgrace, no better than a whore and you knew it.

Adriel could see your turmoil and he fought back the smirk that wanted to peek out, such an innocent thing. Loyal to a fault, like a dog that stays at its master’s heel - no matter how much he mistreated and used you.

Licking his lips, he savoured your taste before reaching over and taking your white little frills - the material soft and delicate against his callouses. Shamelessly, he lifted it - catching your eyes once again as he inhaled.

Your lips parted, brows furrowing as you watched him, thighs twitching as your body fought your brain.

Silently, he stood as he pulled the material away from his nose, he cocking to the side as he reached his full height.

So small..

He blinked away his own want, taking another whiff before he turned his back to you, steps heavy as he walked to where he had laid his whore wife to die.

He almost felt bad having to leave her filth down here with you..

‘Adriel..?’ You reached out, lifting yourself to sit up - shivering as you covered your breasts with both arms.

What was he doing?

He wasn’t going to leave you here to rot was he..?

Your panic returned as your breaths turned rapid, disbelief and hurt swallowing you whole. You watched him reach for his axe before pausing, his shoulders beginning to shake - quiet and restrained chuckles filling the basement.

His figure moved further and further away until you could hear the sad creaking steps groaning under his weight, one by one as he began to ascend them.

You scrambled to your knees, your nakedness adding a whole new layer of entrapment.

‘Please don’t leave me here.’ You begged, the darkness feeling as though it was now suffocating you.

He didn’t falter at your plea, continuing his trek until the squeak of the basement door opened..

‘Death do you part indeed.’

Then he was gone, door slamming shut behind him.

▪︎ Will leave marks on your body. Unexplainable bruises at first - when you are not yet quite aware of him. But once you notice his presence and acknowledge it, those marks become something more.

Bruises, bitemarks, very visible hickeys in your neck, just to make a point out of the fact that he claimed you. That you are his. Wheneither that is within your own knowledge or not...

▪︎ Likes to take in your scent. Bring your hair to his nose. Getting awefully close to you to breathe in your lovely aura.

▪︎ Makes use of pet names, although they're rather basic ones; good girl, lovely woman, sweet thing. Of that sort, he'll equally use degrading names depending on his mood. Sometimes, it's hard to distinguish if he's praising or insulting you.

▪︎ Speaking of mood, his wife's affair sure did leave a scar, so much so that Lorraine called him insane. As such, his mood easily switches without a visible indication. He can be rather unpredictable, which makes him dangerous.

▪︎ Being a ghost, his touch naturally is cold. His aura, however, is notably warm. Whenever you feel his presence your body seems to heat up without any explanation. Even if you can't see him, that warmth might be a sign he's stalking you.

▪︎ Will absolutely perk his ears and grow even more possessive over you once learning that you've never had a (living) partner in your life. So pure and untouched... You were meant to be his. Someone like you would never betray him and he is never going to leave you.

▪︎ Very posessive and dominant. Very.

▪︎ He likes to corner you, tower above you, make you feel like his prey. That fearful look painted on your face activates something primal inside him, makes the illusion of his dead heart racing a little faster. The chase is exciting, wheneither he actually commits on attempting to harm you or wheneither it's just play.

▪︎ He's a big tease. He likes fucking around with people's minds, but he also likes to harmlessly tease and toy around.

▪︎ Perhaps it comes as a surprise, but he's quite gentle with animals. Abner never harmed the Smurl's pet dog, despite it continuously barking at him to warn its family members. Maybe, in a time long gone, he used to own a herding dog to help around on the farm.

January 18th, 2026. 

328-330 Chase St, West Pittston, PA 18643

You groaned melodramatically as the pixelated Chrome dinosaur mocked you from your laptop screen for the fourth fucking time that day. If your file didn’t save again, you swore you were going to chuck the whole damn thing out the nearest window.

The Wi-Fi had been going strong for the first five months since you moved in, but in the last week or so, it seemed as though you couldn’t complete more than a few paragraphs of work before the internet went down again. As far as you could tell, there were no issues with the router.

“Hey, Y/N.”

A mass of red curls materialized in your doorway as Janie poked her head inside, pushing her oval glasses back up the bridge of her sloped nose. “I seriously can’t deal with this shit. If you don’t mind, I’m just going to hitch a ride with Missy back to campus. If I don’t get this paper done by Thursday, professor Valdez is going to tank my grade… Will you be okay if we head out?”

Janie and Missy, your younger housemates, both attended Scranton University down the road. Both girls had wanted to try living outside the dorms for their junior year, and you were in desperate need of some roommates to shoulder the cost of the rent, so it initially seemed like a solid idea all-around when the three of you met on a roommate-matching service. After weeks of scouring out vacancies, Missy had stumbled upon the former Smurl-family residence, as it had been listed on a rental site for several months without any bites.

After The Haunted came out in 1991, the Smurl home reportedly got passed around over the years to a multitude of curious tenants, all eager to make their own claims to fame…until nothing compelling ever resulted from their efforts. A couple of residents were caught and shamed all across social media for fabricating a video in the 2010’s, and after Margaret Zillmann’s book in 2024, Supernatural or Situational: A Deep-Dive Into The Smurl Haunting’s Mendacities, challenged and disproved much of the original demonic claims made in the 80’s, the house fell out of favor with ghost-hunters and skeptics alike.

Thus, the double-block home dropped drastically in real estate value—giving you and your new roommates the perfect opportunity to nab an affordable place near campus.

And for a while, it seemed that Zillmann’s book was correct; you, Missy, and Janie never noticed anything amiss, aside from a few typical old-house creaks and groans attributed to architecture senescence.

…Well. Until this last month.

It started with the disconcerting horripilations along your bare arms and thighs, the raising of your hackles and manifestation of gooseflesh in the absence of any known stimuli. You would find yourself abruptly overtaken with the disquietive sensation of being watched, aware of some unverifiable presence behind you. 

From there, other oddities occurred that left you questioning your own sanity. Once or twice, you swore you felt your mattress sink down beside you, indented as though a heavy weight had settled upon the bed. Other times, you did double-takes in the window above the kitchen sink, or the powder room mirror, certain that you had glimpsed an inumbrated figure lurking behind your own reflection.

And now, the Wi-Fi insisted upon failing more and more with each passing day, keeping you from completing your work—which, as a Technical Writer with a stay-at-home job, reliable internet access was an absolute necessity. 

However, the worst part, by far, had to be that, aside from the Wi-Fi going down, your roommates had not disclosed any bizarre experiences to you. You only brought your concerns to them once, which merely resulted in Missy and Janie giggling and teasing that you had let the history of the home get to you.

“That’s…fine,” you mumbled to Janie, repeatedly refreshing your browser in the vain hope of getting your connection back. “I’ll just go check the router and see if I can’t get it running again.” If all else failed, maybe you would hit up the local Starbucks to finish the user manual your boss tasked you with dumbing-down.

With hopes in the gutter, you listened to Missy’s Chevrolet Bolt EV roll down the gravel road outside as you poked and prodded uselessly at the modem, urging it to come back to life. 

“C’mon, please? Open sesame?” you whined. Your boss would only tolerate so many more “connectivity issues” before your job got passed on to someone more “dependable.” 

Sighing through your nose in defeat, you stomped your way back to your bedroom, snatching up your lanyard and keys from your dresser. Starbucks it was, then.

Armed with your laptop bag on your shoulder, you made for the door—

WHAM!

Your bedroom door rattled on its hinges as it banged shut in your face, the force of the slam leaving deep splinters in the painted wood. 

A strangled scrike lodged in your throat as you sprang backward, losing your footing and landing on your ass. You scrambled backward like a discombobulated hermit crab, knocking your head against your nightstand in your haste to retreat.

What the actual hell? Shit! Oh my god—what the fuck just happened? What’s going on? All manner of questions, curses, and exclamations died on your tongue, your dumbfoundment keeping all verbalizations at bay as you gawked at the fractured door. 

Your heart quopped frantically behind your rib cage, the palpitant beat pulsing in your throat, frostbitten sweat creeping down your spine and the nape of your neck. You remained rooted on the spot, crouched beside your bed, quivering in place as you awaited the next scare.

…But after several termless, strained minutes passed you by, nothing else happened.

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You were a grown woman in your 30’s, but your automatic go-to response in peril was to call your mom, so you fished your cell phone from your pocket, clammy hand slipping and sliding. You dried your palm on your shirt, then brought up your mother’s contact in a flurry.

The phone rang once, and then clicked as she picked up on the other end. “MOM! Oh m-m-my god, m-mom, I-I don’t know wh-what’s going on, b-but—!”

An abrasive, guttural chuckle interrupted your spluttering, inciting a fresh wave of terror to roll through your nervous system. Your words halted immediately as all the saliva drained from your now-desiccated mouth.

The laugh started out in a low, grating baritone, but as the male voice incessantly amused itself, it spiked continuously in volume, until he was flat-out cachinnating obnoxiously in your ear. But there was something altogether…inhuman about the shuddersome voice, as though it were a corpse cackling from within an ossuary.

Okay, yeah, nope! 

You promptly ended the call and stuffed your phone back in your pocket, springing to your feet before bolting to the door like a bat out of hell. Your perspiring fingers briefly fumbled to grasp around the doorknob, yanking it back.

Your heart halted in its tracks.

A man—or—or something—blockaded the doorway with his (or its?) absurdly tall frame. 

The humanoid creature presented as a man in his early 50’s, with long, unkempt and sweat-greased black hair, donned in a plaid, button-up shirt and denim farmer overalls. His pallid skin took on a purplish-blue hue characteristic of pallor mortis, lips smeared black as though with charcoal or ink. Prominent mazarine veins peered out from beneath the thin skin of his face, and dark rings lined the bags beneath nefastous eyes. 

Those inky lips spread wide into a nightmarish grin, revealing yellowed, rotting teeth.

Fight, flight, or freeze instincts chose the latter as you stood asweved in front of him, unable to process what it was that you were seeing in your doorway. But your muscles loosened when he took a thundering step toward you.

Feeling like a doe being slowly stalked by a slabbering, inanitiated wolf, you matched each of his forward footfalls with a backward one, until the backs of your thighs bumped the foot of your bed. 

Then he pounced.

Before you could sprint around him, the phantomic man lunged for you, using the entirety of his weight to pin you to your mattress. You finally found your hoarse voice, uttering a horrified spraich as you sprattled and kicked underneath him, flailing and bucking wildly.

“STOP THAT.”

The graunch, stentorian voice almost stilled your panicked flailing as he growled down at you, his breath surprisingly warm despite his appearance suggesting he was a walking corpse.

“Wh-wh-who are you?” you just barely managed to stammer out, wincing as his massive hands slammed your wrists down on the comforter, deprehending you. “Wh-What are y-y-you?”

“Abner Jones,” he gutturalized, that demoniac smile never wavering as his calloused thumbs smoothed along your wrists, rubbing circles over your pulse points. “As for what I am…can’t really say, little missy.”

You winced, choking back any involuntary noises as he leaned down, his blackened lips gliding along the space where your throat met your shoulder. You heard a roughened inhale as he scented you.

“Gh-ghost?” you suggested, your voice strained with appalment. “Or d-d-demon?” You had never believed in supernatural happenings before, but it was hard to explain away your current circumstances as being anything else—unless some lunatic in really good costume makeup had broken into your house? “Wh-what d-do—what d-do you want?”

Another ill-omened chuckle answered you. “Thought that was obvious, doll,” he rasped, withdrawing to meet your eyes again, a carnal glint in his acherontic irises. When you offered him no response or indication of understanding, his grin extended and he aligned his groin with yours.

Okay. So now you were fully convinced that some lunatic had broken into your home, because how the actual fuck did a ghost get a hard-on?

“M-m-my r-roommates—they’ll b-be back any time n-now,” you threatened, hoping against hope to spook him off. “Th-they’ll c-call the cops.”

The man (Abner, was it?) canted his head to the side. “An’ what exactly do you think the fuzz will do for ya? Exorcise me?”

The last remnants of blood drained from your cheeks. “D-don’t be stupid—I-I know you’re not a ghost, you f-fucking creep!”

But the more your brain rolled back over the events of the past month, the more you began to question just how it was that a real person could have made your mattress sink down, or how a living human could have slammed your door shut without being anywhere near it, or how he would hack your phone to make his voice override your mother’s number—

Oh no.

“Can’t say if ghost is th’ word we’re lookin’ for here,” Abner drawled, lazily beginning to rock his hips to yours, “but I’ve been watchin’ you for a while now… An’ you’ve really caught my eye, Y/N. From what I can tell, it sounds like you’re a real good girl. Not the kinda dame t’ fuck around on her husband.” 

You instinctively squirmed again as his clothed erection ground exigently to your core, a piteous whindle escaping as you racked your brain for a way out of this, a means of escape, something.

“Wh-what about—my roommates?” you choked out. “Wh-why not o-one of them?”

It now dawned on you that there was a rather obvious reason why your housemates had not reported experiencing anything supernatural, but…why you? You didn’t exactly consider yourself a catch by any means, and on top of that, there were two gorgeous, young 22-year-olds housed with you, ripe for the taking…

“Y’mean the leggy lil’ tramps?” Enmity heated his eyes like hot coals. “The ginger tart is unfaithful to her lad, and th’ blonde floozie reeks of ten different fellas. But you…” Abner transferred your wrists to one hand, pinning your arms above your head as his free hand began a slow grabbling of your left breast. “You don’ strike me as the unfaithful type. I’ve heard ya rantin’ on that phone of yours about ‘cheatin’ bastards.’” 

Clearly, this guy harbored some kind of personal issues regarding infidelity, but logical thinking proved difficult to procure with the way his large hand was currently fondling you. “Nghh—I-I’m n-not! I-I…I’ve cheated on boyfriends before!” you lied through your teeth.

“Well now, that’s jus’ made up out of the whole cloth,” Abner sneered, flexing his hand and balling up your shirt between his fingers. “I know you’ve only had jus’ the one boyfriend, an’ I know you weren’t two-timing.” The strong digits suddenly yanked backward, violently rending the fabric from your chest. 

Having failed to deter him, you swiggled about in a vermigrade manner, twisting and kicking as he yanked your bra up, not actually bothering to remove it in his haste to taste you. He stole a hearty helping of your right breast in a surprisingly thermic mouth, his serpentine tongue swishing and rolling around your indurating nipple. When you cried out in protest, his uneven teeth clamped down to catch around the sensitive flesh, forcing your cry into a distressed shriek. 

Thisisn’thappeningthisisn’thappeningthisisn’thappening, your mind ranted over and over, as though willing the words into existence. It couldn’t be happening, right? Ghosts couldn’t rape the living, right? Surely that would have made headlines in the past?

…Or maybe it had happened before, and people like you were just written off as insane.

Ashen fingers now feverishly set their sights on his own clothing, shrugging the straps of his overalls down and doffing his shirt from his upper body, revealing more cadaverous yet muscular flesh, patterned with the same hyacinthine-tinted veins as the ones adorning his pale visage. 

Abner’s weight temporarily left yours as he focused his attention on divesting the remainder of his clothing, and you jumped on the fleeting opportunity for an escape. You atrenned toward the door, socks slipping and sliding clumsily on the wood-paneled flooring as you absquatulated out of your bedroom.

Before you could flee down the hallway, a meaty hand suddenly detained you, nabbing you by the back band of your bra and plucking you up from the floor. He hauled you unceremoniously back to the bed, unperturbed by your failed escape as he plopped you down and discarded the remainder of his clothing.

In puris naturalibus, he towered at the foot of your bed, theroid eyes darkened with animalivorous intent. That same etiolated flesh colored his cock, which stood tall and proud, just as massive as the rest of him, bobbing against his belly with what was surely more life than any ghost should have. 

What luck, you mused wryly. Of course your undead stalker was well-hung.

You bevered violently as he climbed back over you, making quick work of your bra before he set his sights on your shorts, dragging them down to dangle at your ankles. He roughly fondled your garmented cunt through your panties, humping the heel of his palm to your mound whilst his mouth scouted out your right breast. All the while, you buffeted his chest and arms with clenched fists, but he gave no indication whatsoever of being put off, merely chuckling patronizingly at your efforts.

“Pretty lil’ thing,” he groaned throatily around your nipple, avarous hands continuing their barbarous contrecation. 

“S-stop—!” 

It seemed your whimpers served to do little more than encourage him, as he now tore your panties like tissue paper, nousling your neck again while his fingers unearthed your clit. You screamed and thrashed harder, jerking around like a hooked fish as his thumb rolled and flicked at the bud, forcibly encouraging your arousal. 

Once your cunt was suitably madefied to his liking, Abner withdrew, sucking your flavor from his thumb, eyes never leaving yours. His carious teeth made another appearance behind inky lips. “You taste real good, sweetheart. Too bad I’m an impatient man.”

Reprieve from his imposed pleasure was brief, for you now felt the bulbous head of his cock slip between your folds, bunting against your narrow aperture. Your muscles stiffened as you endeavored to deny him entrance, your thighs clamping together around him, but he wrenched your legs back apart. With a labored grunt, he popped the crown into your slit, earning himself a pained wail.

“I s-said—STOP—!” 

Your walls constringed desperately around him, working to drive him out, but his shallow thrusts inched him ever-deeper. He moaned obnoxiously above you, jerking his hips as the detrusion carried on with relentless force. Your vision fogged with tears, your senses tapering into a tunnel-vision of stinging pain. He was too big, too rough, and you were going to burst at the seams—

Abner stilled as his cock ingressed fully inside you, burrowed so deeply that your lower belly protuberated with his shape. His deep, coarse groan sounded like sandpaper grating against pavement. 

“Fuck, you fit me good…” That gristly laugh assaulted your ears again. “Easy now, doll. You’re doin’ juuuuus’ fine.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as he retreated, bracing yourself as his thick cock dragged along your narrow passage. He eased his way out until the fat tip of his cock was all that remained, and then promptly rejoined your bodies with a violent thrust. His laughter eclipsed your cries, his belluine noises of satisfaction sounding more like a savage mauling of prey than fucking.

The revulsive slaps of wet skin commingled with your respective sounds, his rough pistoning inundating your senses until you were hardly aware of anything else. Multiple times, you feared he was truly going to rupture your cervix, but the assault was blessedly short-lived as he throbbed inside you. 

Your eyes remained obstinately closed as you felt his cock spasm and spill with his apogee, saturating your insides with warm, tremellose fluid. His suffonsified sigh huffed against your neck as he lazily rutted his hips, savoring the ebbing pulses of his climax. 

“Mmm…I jus’ knew you’d hit the spot, lil’ missy." 

Unexpectedly soft lips parted yours, maneuvering your mouth in an imposed kiss that tasted of tobacco and raw wheat.

His softening length then seceded from your aching cunt, allowing rills of his cum to dribble out and down your puffy folds. 

"I'll be seein' you again soon, doll..."

His weight departed yours, and you could finally breathe properly—albeit with frantic polypneas. You played possum on the mattress, trembling in the silent, suspensive quiescence that followed in wake of his depradation.

Had he actually left?

When you finally dared to creep one eye open, you did indeed find yourself completely alone in your room again.

What’s more, you were dressed in perfectly intact clothing and undergarments, spread on your back across a freshly made-up bed. His spectral seed was gone from your thighs, and only a dull throb remained between your legs.

Was…was it all a horrible, lucid dream? Sleep paralysis? A vivid, intense hallucination? 

You ventured to sit upright, patting yourself down and checking your body over for bruises or other signs of an assault. Your heart still hammered in a caprizant tempo, and sweat slicked your hair and body, but you were otherwise unscathed.

Unsteadily, you wobbled from the bed, testing your footing on the floor. As soon as you evaluated yourself to be stable enough to walk, you snatched up your phone from the ground, dialing your mother's number.

A few high-tension rings later, your mother's blessed voice answered, "Hi, hon! Is the internet down again?"

You hobbled out of your room with a vacillatory sense of relief, certain now that you were physically safe, but quite possibly spiraling mentally. Maybe you somehow mistook Missy's shrooms for your own sliced mushrooms in the fridge, and used those in your omelette this morning? There was most definitely a logical explanation behind what had just occurred, and the most important part was, it hadn't been real.