#smu

Though today, your mother asked you to venture outside of the village to visit your grandmother. Your mother’s very own mother. You heard she was ill, dying even and it saddened you. You mother couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to her without any means to contact her.

She wanted to go herself but your father was against this idea. The woods were a dangerous place, vile creatures roamed endlessly and no one has ever returned home after entering the Devil territory.

This sent a shiver down your spine.

Of course everyone knew about the northern woods. There was a bridge connecting this realm to the village, but almost no one dared to cross it. And those who did? They most certainly died a gruesome death.

And for some unknown reasons, your grandmother decided to live in the middle of these same haunted woods.

•••

This is how you end up with a basket under your arm, a crusty map in your hands and no ideas on where the hell you are. You sigh aggressively.

The most important thing is to stay on the bright side of the woods. You walk at your own pace, you take it the mysterious aura emanating from this place. You wonder what secrets can it hide from greedy eyes.

Your feet eventually take you to a pretty pound with giant water lilies floating and lotus flowers on top. You walk closer until you notice a shoal of fish swimming energetically. You lean forward and wonder if you could catch one. You body hover over the pound, mindlessly. Closer and closer until—

Shotgun.

You emerge out of your trance, a few seconds more and you’d have felt in the pound. You spin around and look at the silhouette behind you. A man stands a few meters away from you, still holding his gun. The barrel fumes as he lowers his weapon. You feel his stare on you.

You feel like you shouldn’t stay, but he’s the only human being and who knows if you’ll encounter anyone else.

You raise your hands, carefully stepping closer when he lifts his gun again and aims at your head.

“Ye monster?”

You furiously shake your head, your eyes widely open. You didn’t even notice that your basket and food fell in the pound.

“No, sir!”

“Watcha doin’ ere?”

You try to speak but the words won’t come out. Can’t he see how you’re trembling? You imagine his gun shooting you in the face, the blood ruining your dress. You didn’t have high hopes on surviving this one, but you were expecting a dreadful creature. Not a man.

His attitude isn’t translatable, he even wears a cotton bag over his face. Two holes were pierced so he could see. On his side hangs a small stained bag, flies buzz around it like madmen.

And the smell… foul.

“Don’t shoot, please. I just need to visit my grandmother.”

If he may be thinking you’re lying, he lowers his weapon nevertheless. With the barrel, he indicates a direction and you squint your eyes until you notice wisps of smoke ; something is burning in a chimney. You beam with hope!

You run to your grandma’s house, you start running before you can think of thanking the hunter. You hear him whistle, but you don’t pay attention to him. You don’t really feel like staying around him for too long.

You’re not even looking where you’re going. Don’t you see how thick those trees are? Their foliage covers the sky until it’s so dark you can barely see your hands. You stop as your blood starts racing through your veins.

The dark woods…

You spin on your heels slowly, but darkness surrounds you. You hear voices mumbling and branches cracking everywhere but you can’t see. You know how people tells you not to move if you’re lost? Well, here you’re certain it’s the other way around.

You walk fast, hands groping for trees and every times one stands in your way, you skirt it. You hear a wolf howling from afar and the voices shut dead.

“Fuck.”

What is wrong with this damn place? Something huge is coming your way but it’s coming from everywhere. Each turn leads you straight to the beast, you can already hear him growl and rumble as he comes closer and closer to you.

How can this thing dash and not blow his head on a tree? You run and run as far and as fast as you can but you know deep down it’s no use. The beast roars as it jumps you suppose. Clawed hands push you down, you hit your head on a wild tree root.

A low chuckle catches your attention. The monster hold you by your neck, and even if you can’t see him perfectly, you see a tiny light shimmering in the depth of his pupils.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

You gasp, unable to understand what’s happening. He gets up and lifts you to his shoulder with ease and starts walking. Where is he taking you exactly? You scream and kick him with all your might but you know damn well you’re not saving yourself with small talk.

A gunshot would have been quicker, you think.

“C’mon, little one, cheers!”, the beast laughs louder as he walks your out of the dark woods. You blink until your eyes can make out his form.

You kick and struggle against him when you see his face. Long spout, sharp teeth and yellow eyes, the classical Big Bad Wolf is your death guard.

“Let me go!”

“No can do.”

He merrily strolls for the longest minutes of your existence until you reach a poorly lightened glade. He shoves you down and you fall heavily on your back and huff. You still have energy and he admires that but now isn’t the time to waste time.

He lugs you to his den. It’s dim inside but it doesn’t seem to bother it much. He tosses you on what appears to be a bed, made out of moss and bird duvet. It’s merely comforting considering your position.

The werewolf lays down next to you. His claws draw patterns on your delicate skin. He check your body out, a lustful grin draws his lips back. Somehow, you find the courage to say something.

“I saw the hunter earlier”, you voice carefully, “Don’t think he won’t come and rescue me.”

The werewolf blinks a few seconds before bursting into laughter. His huge maw flashes sets of sharp and long teeth. You look at him, dumbfounded. You watch the beast wipes out a tear in the corner of his glossy eye.

“C’mon, how old are you?”

His mockery irritates you, and he must have feel because he quickly comes down. He points at something hanging on the wall.

“See for yourself.”

At first you can’t see what he’s pointing at, but as you lean closer, a gasp escapes your lungs.

A gun.

You stay silent for a moment, your blood is boiling under your skin. You’re afraid your heart will explode before the beast could kill you. You slowly turn your head to him. This can’t be real, right?

“What did you do?”

You jump out of his dirty bed. You need to get out of here, he gonna kill you otherwise! But the werewolf cuts you off with a calm voice.

“Me? I’m not the monster in this story.”

You look at him. Despite his dreadful appearance, he doesn’t try to stop you. Probably because he knows you can’t get out without him. He picks at his teeth and pull something out. You grimace.

“Look.” You steps forward, not too close.

Between his clawed fingers stands a piece of fabric you recognize as one your village often embroiders. You glare at the werewolf, your arms crosses under your chest.

“What is this even supposed to prove?”

He chuckled, but doesn’t say more.

“Nothing,” he pats his rudimentary bed, “C’mere.”

You step backwards but the beast tucks you, making you land perfectly on his laps. His fur is surprisingly thick and downy, you find yourself combing through his hair when you hear him lick his teeth.

Don’t even try to push him away, his grip is strong enough to break your wrist like branches. You gulp audibly.

“There, there little thing.”

He rubs your tense shoulders lovingly, but you won’t let him with this deceitful attitude. You shove his hands off you.

“If you must kill me, have the decency to do it quickly!”

You close your eyes. Despite your words, your hands tremble with fear and your heart beats aggressively in your ears. Wetness floods your eyelids. You wished you’d lived longer, but now his not the time for regrets. You’ve had a good life.

Fingers pull your face upwards; claws graze the newly exposed skin of your throat. His panting warms up your cheeks and somehow, you find peace in your misery.

“Argh… you’re ruining my fun.”

You open one eye, brows arched.

“Can’t you scream or try something? You know, like anyone with minimal survival instincts?”

“… What?”

“Argh!”

You watch him pinch his snout and grumble. Now is your chance, you have to try something! You clear your throat after taking a deep breath.

“Well, since you’re not gonna eat me, I—”

The werewolf cuts you off.

“Who said that?”, he growls.

A chill runs down your spine, the air suddenly thickens. He coarsely pinches your thighs, his chuckle bounces back on the den’s linings. You translate something else behind his eye, something that makes your whole body shakes.

He tosses you on his bed before you can do anything. He doesn’t rip your dress in pieces like you imagined he would, no. You lay on your side, one leg lifted over his head. Before him, your pretty pussy is hiding under your thong. He whistles suggestively, his long fingers roll to caress your lips with his knuckles.

See? He’s mindful and here you are, whining over it. His index draws circles around your clothed clit then the tiny valley between your puffy lips. You don’t need much turn you on, he can’t already sniff your heat steaming up.

“Geez Louise, would you look at that.”

He tears your thong up and free your restricted cunt. His cold breath gives your goosebumps.

“I’m gonna enjoy this one.”

He rolls on his back and impels you to sit on his open maw. You maneuver yourself between his teeth and you’re glad no one from your village can see this. You can’t help your humiliation to manifest through teary eyes and burning cheek.

You feel his breath between your legs and on your ass. He holds you still, carefully not pressing you too much against his overly sharp fangs. His tongue twists and snakes its way to your warm slit. He gently licks your thighs before running it your mound. You sigh lightly, your hands find his forearms as he keeps lapping your folds. You don’t want to admit you kinda like it.

“Brace yourself, sweetheart”, he articulates.

“Huh? Ah—!”

His tongue slips inside your tight canal and writhes inside you. Your nails dig in his arms but you’re sure he doesn’t even feel it. Talk about feeling, you feel his tongue inside you very well. You fight this new feeling of bliss and agony, it’s consuming your core yet you don’t feel like stopping just yet.

You yelp as he rolls and positions you on your chest. Your dress’s hemline covers your head as your ass is indecently exposed to his view. You hold on for dear life when he plunges his tongue once more to your deepest desire. Knuckle pressed against your bundle of nerves, a jolt of electricity zap you.

“Wait!”

But he’s obviously not listening. His instincts tell him to literally take a bite of your ass but another part of him make his crotch go brrr.

Hm, another charming to say he wants to make you take his knot.

Anyway, feeling how close you are to implode, he does is best to take you to your highest point. Your juice dribbles onto his tongue, his knuckle presses hard on your erected clit.

“Something’s coming!”

He hums approvingly and that’s all it takes to send you to another world. You shake uncontrollably and curse as you fill the werewolf’s maw with your juice. He gulps everything you give away and keeps lapping your slick slit until you physically can’t take more. You lift your ass higher or to the sides when he desperately tries to reach out for more.

You struggle to catch your breath between pantings and tired moans. Behind you, the werewolf licks his lips appreciatively, his dilated pupils never leaving you.

“I could get use to that” he purrs, his other hand shamelessly rubs his bulge.

“Wait now…” your wobbly arms can barely support you as you lift yourself up on your elbows. “Let’s make a deal.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you settle your agreement.

“I take this…”, you vaguely point at his growing bulge, embarrassed, “ and you spare my life.”

For a moment, you both watch each other in silence. Only the sound of groans coming from him breaks the itching quietness. He thinks a bit then grants you a cryptic grin.

“Deal.”

You don’t know if you can trust him, but you don’t really have a choice now, do you?

•••

What’s coming next?! 😱

Not the peace-before-rest kind.

No — this one presses on you.

A silence that’s been broadcasted.

Forced.

Engineered.

It’s the place where the last Broadcast War ended.

Half-submerged satellite dishes and tangled coils of once-living wire litter the ash field.

Towers rise like skeletons of fallen gods, crooked and rusted, humming softly with a static no one dares to decipher.

No one, except you.

And the two walking shadows trailing you like wolves.

---

You step past the edge of the signal line, the air thick with cold residue from the war.

Vox is already there — waiting at the base of a broken antenna, fingers flexing with nervous static.

He looks angry.

And worried.

And pissed about looking worried.

“You shouldn’t be here alone.”

You raise a brow.

“Yet here you are, alone too.”

His jaw ticks.

“Because I knew you’d come. You always chase the worst parts of yourself.”

Your eyes narrow.

“That why you follow me, Vox?”

He steps closer.

“No. I follow you because you’re the only frequency I can’t override. The only one I can’t—” He cuts off. Shakes his head. “Never mind.”

You take another step, close enough to feel the buzz of his energy brush against yours like a heated breath.

His hand reaches toward your face — fingers just grazing your cheek, a flicker of electricity.

“I could hardwire you into me,” he murmurs. “We could merge. I’d protect you. Amplify you.”

You lean in, lips brushing his jaw.

“And what happens when I outsignal you?”

He freezes.

Before he can answer, a cruel laugh shatters the moment.

“Oh, how romantic.”

You both turn fast.Alastor stands atop the old broadcast dish, arms out, coat fluttering in an unseen wind.

His voice slithers down from the structure with a warmth laced in knives.

“I knew he’d try to woo you with circuits and sparks.”

Vox snarls.

“You're trespassing.”

“And you're predictable, Voxie.”

You grit your teeth.

“I didn’t invite either of you. This is my hunt.”

Alastor drops gracefully from the dish.

No sound.

No weight.

Like the air obeys him.

He lands inches from you, eyes glowing deep crimson, smile ever-present.

“You’re not just hunting,” he says softly, “you’re being summoned.”

Your stomach twists.

“How do you know?”

“Because,” he steps closer, tilting his head, “I’ve felt this pull before. Long ago. When I was reborn in Hell’s radio fire. It’s not a signal. It’s a heartbeat.”

---

The ground trembles beneath you.

Not violently.

More like... an inhale.

Then something pulses through the graveyard.

All three of you freeze.

The static around you warps.

A shadow pulses through the wreckage — not physical, not digital, not sound.

Something in between.

A signal spike.

Violent.

Hungry.

You drop to one knee, clutching your chest.

Vox curses, barely keeping balance.

Alastor's smile widens — not joyful, not even amused.

Feral.

A voice echoes from beneath the earth.

“Found... you...”

Your mind fractures.

---

Suddenly, you're not in the graveyard.

You're in it.

Trapped in a memory that doesn’t belong to you.

Screens blink around you — flashing half-formed faces, old recordings of yourself, footage from places you never visited.

You're standing in a control room, but you’re not alone.

Vox is in the corner, mouth moving in glitchy slow motion.

Alastor leans behind your shoulder, whispering words in reversed radio static.

They’re both reaching for you.

The control board in front of you sparks.

A final switch.

And a question, pulsing from the signal.

“Do you want to be claimed?”

---

Your eyes snap open.

You're flat on your back, in the ash.

Chest heaving.

Sweat cooling.

Vox is kneeling beside you, one hand on your cheek.

His thumb trembles.

“Hey. Stay with me. What the fuck just happened?”

Alastor is crouched nearby, no longer smiling.

Eyes dark.

Focused.

“You were marked,” he says softly. “Whoever’s behind the broadcast — they’ve laid claim. That shouldn’t be possible.”

You sit up slowly. Your hands shake.

“I didn’t say yes.”

“No,” Alastor murmurs. “But you didn’t say no, either.”

---

Later, you return to the hotel.

The moment you enter your room, Vox grabs you.

Not roughly — but firmly.

His hands on either side of your face, sparks licking his fingers, chest heaving like he hasn't stopped glitching since the graveyard.

“Don’t go there alone again,” he says, voice hoarse. “Don’t make me lose you to something I can’t fight."

You grab his wrist.

“I’m not yours.”

He leans in, forehead resting against yours.

“Then tell me who’s you are.”

Your lips part — no sound comes.

Because someone is already standing in the doorway.

Alastor.

Silent.

Watching.

Waiting.

Your signal’s no longer yours.

And both of them?

They’re done sharing.

--- TO BE CONTINUED ---