The Blackmere Society #3

Author's Notes: Hey everyone! I'm sorry this took a while -- it took longer than I wanted to, as well, as I had originally been wanting to get this out in time for Halloween. However, I ended up deliberating over it again and again, mulling over different possibilities and the various ways I could make the scenes erotic while retaining the consistency of the tone and story.

What I think I came up with, despite the wait, is exactly that. Some parts needed to be changed or rewritten as I went along, but I believe what we have is the best version of this chapter, and the most true to the series. It is also alarmingly long, so I hope that will make up for the dry period.

Until next time!

[story] [F/F] [light F/M] [possession] [slight mind control] [shared-body masturbation] [vaginal] [anal] [GHOST TENTACLES]

__________________________

And so marched onward the hunters of Blackmere....

It is‭ ‬1897,‭ ‬the twenty-eighth of May.‭ ‬My name is Brialla Wren,‭ ‬and I am the newest member of the Blackmere Society,‭ ‬a hidden cadre of hunters consisting of creatures that would be feared,‭ ‬would be dreaded,‭ ‬were there not a far greater evil lurking beneath us.

This night,‭ ‬sleep comes deep and restfully,‭ ‬my weakened body exercised into exhaustion by a curious newcomer to Blackmere Manor.‭ ‬A creature of the underworld,‭ ‬unshackled from the entity that had enslaved her,‭ ‬a horned beauty of scarlet skin and ebony hair.‭ ‬She calls herself Rubii,‭ ‬and on the night prior she found me in hospice,‭ ‬seemed to...‭ ‬link,‭ ‬to me.‭ ‬We made love‭ ‬--‭ ‬or rather,‭ ‬she to me‭ ‬--‭ ‬and in spite of my limited cooperation I find no regrets haunting my thoughts.

I awaken to the sensation of gentle nuzzling,‭ ‬the hell-creature’s nude body entangled with my own,‭ ‬legs wound around mine and her face buried between my breasts as a young child may cling to its mother,‭ ‬not wishing to be far separated from that which is most crucial to it.‭ ‬Her golden eyes remain shut,‭ ‬soft snores rumbling out from her soft,‭ ‬slumbering figure,‭ ‬mouth open just enough for me to view a single small,‭ ‬sharp fang.‭ ‬I try to shift,‭ ‬but find myself quite unable to,‭ ‬my body still resisting my attempts to control it.‭ ‬There is only the most minor sign of recovery‭ ‬--‭ ‬one finger shifts forward,‭ ‬barely half an inch.‭ ‬Enough,‭ ‬however,‭ ‬to give me some hope.

‭“‬Who are you...‭” ‬I whisper softly,‭ ‬not rousing the demon-girl,‭ ‬though taking some comfort from her closeness.‭ ‬She’s wonderfully pretty in her unholy way,‭ ‬and now that I’ve acclimated to her being so near I find it quite soothing.‭ ‬A kind of presence I’ve not felt for far too long,‭ ‬despite its unlikely source.‭ ‬A low,‭ ‬rumbling sound,‭ ‬something between a snore and purr,‭ ‬burbles out from the red-skinned stowaway.‭ ‬Curiously pleasing....

I’m startled to full waking by the sound of voices outside of the makeshift infirmary where I’m being held,‭ ‬the door’s handle rattling.‭ ‬My eyes snap open,‭ ‬and I whisper harshly to Rubii,‭ “‬Girl‭! ‬You mustn’t let them see you‭! ‬You have to go‭!”

She does not hear.‭ ‬Her slumber is absolute,‭ ‬her body completely relaxed in its embrace of me.‭ ‬I knew this moment would come,‭ ‬and even though I know far too little of Rubii’s origin or intention,‭ ‬I have no wish to see her mistreated for what she appears to be,‭ ‬rather than her expressed character.‭ ‬Nonetheless,‭ ‬the inlaid ash door creaks open,‭ ‬and two members of the Society enter:‭ ‬Mr.‭ ‬Commons,‭ ‬his jacket doffed and vest open,‭ ‬giving him something of a disheveled appearance‭; ‬and Anathema,‭ ‬the graceful vampyress clad scandalously a crimson shift,‭ ‬woven from what I can only assume are the fine silks of the East.

‭“‬Last I checked she was still asleep,‭ ‬perhaps she’s roused now‭?” ‬I can hear Edgar’s voice saying as the door opens,‭ ‬both of them slipping inside.‭ ‬They look upon me,‭ ‬seeing my visitor,‭ ‬and both freeze as if they’ve seen a ghost‭ ‬--‭ ‬or something far more ghastly,‭ ‬I suppose,‭ ‬seeing as the Society considers a ghost among its full-time members.‭ “‬Crivvens.‭”

“Well,‭ ‬it certainly seems as if our little witch has found a friend,‭” ‬Anathema’s scarlet lips twist into a wry sneer,‭ ‬one I find almost impossible to read‭ ‬--‭ ‬at least in relation to whether she finds Rubii’s presence acceptable or not.‭ “‬Were you planning to tell us about your new lover,‭ ‬Brialla‭?”

I find my throat quite dry,‭ ‬all eyes on me,‭ ‬with Rubii still asleep and nuzzled into my bosom.‭ ‬If I tell the truth,‭ ‬they won’t understand how gentle she was,‭ ‬how...‭ ‬careful,‭ ‬she appeared to be.‭ “‬It’s...‭ ‬i-it’s not what you think‭!” ‬I exclaim,‭ ‬a clumsy attempt to buy time while I contemplate a more digestible retort.

‭“‬Oh‭?” ‬the vampyre drifts close to me.‭ ‬She has the speed of Rubii with none of the discomforting movements‭ ‬--‭ ‬first she is far from me,‭ ‬and then she is near,‭ ‬and the interim is scarcely noticed.‭ “‬Would you care to explain,‭ ‬sweet witch‭? ‬Explain how a thing from the underworld ended up in your bed‭?”

“It’s quite a good question,‭” ‬Edgar intones from the other end of the room,‭ ‬making his way over to the bed’s other side,‭ ‬cautiously keeping his distance from the slumbering Rubii.‭ “‬After you sealed the rift and had yourself a wee nap,‭ ‬that thing in the basement dragged us back here,‭ ‬all of us.‭ ‬I remember not a thing about that monstrosity’s mouthpiece showing up with us.‭”

“She’s...‭” ‬I swallow hard,‭ ‬trying to think of the best way to explain it,‭ ‬not knowing what they’ll want to hear.‭ ‬I still know so little about the other Blackmere hunters and how they’ll react.‭ “‬We freed her,‭ ‬I think.‭ ‬When that...‭ ‬t-that horrid thing...‭ ‬when we closed the rift,‭ ‬it broke its hold over her.‭ ‬She came to me,‭ ‬possibly because I broke the--‭”

My eyes widen in horror when Rubii stirs from her rest,‭ ‬finally distracted from sleep by all of the voices around her.‭ ‬She looks at me first,‭ ‬then tilts her head,‭ ‬tail lashing suddenly when she sees first Edgar,‭ ‬then Ana.‭ ‬A hideous shriek‭ ‬--‭ ‬not unlike that of a feral cat that’s been doused in cold water,‭ ‬or had its tail sharply tugged‭ ‬--‭ ‬erupts from the demongirl,‭ ‬and she detaches from me,‭ ‬scurrying away from the bed completely and darting up the wall.‭ ‬Still naked,‭ ‬facing the other members of the Society,‭ ‬she backs her way up nearly to the ceiling,‭ ‬hands and feet clinging to the smooth,‭ ‬plastered surface as might those of a cricket,‭ ‬or cunning arachnid.‭ “‬Hssssch‭!” ‬she wails out,‭ ‬tail lashing wildly.

‭“‬Aye,‭ ‬she looks quite sorted,‭ ‬doesn’t she‭?” ‬Even in my state of growing distress,‭ ‬Edgar’s sarcasm doesn’t miss its mark.‭ ‬Of more concern to me,‭ ‬however,‭ ‬is the sound of footsteps rushing toward the infirmary from elsewhere in Blackmere Manor...‭ ‬footsteps that,‭ ‬logically,‭ ‬could only belong to a single individual.

‭“‬Ahh,‭ ‬the brute arrives,‭” ‬Anathema sighs,‭ ‬seeming strangely unfettered by Rubii’s sudden display of defensiveness.‭ ‬She simply slinks back a step or two,‭ ‬moving out of the open doorway’s line of sight‭ ‬--‭ ‬and in doing so,‭ ‬as if by some premonition of her ungodly humours,‭ ‬retroactively evades the barreling form of a Mr.‭ ‬Erasmus Grey.‭ ‬The lycanthrope storms into the small infirmary,‭ ‬fingers spread in an imitation of beastly claws,‭ ‬but no transformation yet taking place.

Rubii,‭ ‬naturally,‭ ‬refuses to make things at all better.‭ ‬Her attention quickly turns to Mr.‭ ‬Grey,‭ ‬a second shriek escaping her dark lips,‭ ‬the challenge of which causes the werewolf to immediately roar back,‭ ‬a human shout that swells into a bestial howl as Erasmus’s already-remarkable figure begins to swell and pop,‭ ‬hair sprouting from various extremities as he enters a state of partial transformation.‭ “‬What is that‭ ‬thing doing here‭?!”

“It seems our witch brought home a stray,‭” ‬Ana replies coolly.‭ ‬I shall,‭ ‬at some point,‭ ‬have to inquire as to her ancestry‭; ‬for her rolling,‭ ‬velvet accent continues to elude me.‭ ‬Romanian,‭ ‬perhaps‭? ‬Or even so far east as the Ukraine‭? ‬A query for another time.‭ “‬To the creature’s credit,‭ ‬it has yet to attack.‭”

“Like a cornered rat will stand its ground until the jaws of a greater predator draw near,‭” ‬Erasmus snarls,‭ ‬his eyes flaring gold and canine teeth bared.‭ “‬We saw her serving that...‭ ‬thing.‭ ‬That’s all I need to know.‭”

“Not to be rude,‭ ‬lad,‭ ‬but are you quite able to come up with anything besides‭ ‘‬thing‭’? ‬If you keep using it for everything you don’t understand,‭ ‬matters are liable to get rather confusing rather quickly,‭” ‬Edgar inquires,‭ ‬only to be flatly ignored by Erasmus,‭ ‬who‭ (‬unfortunately‭) ‬turns his seething attention towards me.

‭“‬What’s your part in this,‭ ‬witch‭?” ‬he spits,‭ ‬a stark reminder of how distrusted I still am within the Blackmere Society,‭ ‬even if the majority of its members are civil enough to keep their concerns unheard.‭ “‬Why’s it with you‭?”

“She...‭” ‬I swallow hard.‭ ‬I do quite wish I was able to properly sit up and explain myself,‭ ‬but the weariness I’m afflicted by after my encounter with the rift renders me as bedbound as I had been when Rubii first approached me.‭ “‬She bears an affection towards me.‭ ‬I assure you,‭ ‬she’s brought me to no harm.‭” ‬Quite the opposite,‭ ‬in fact,‭ ‬but to share this degree of detail,‭ ‬I feel,‭ ‬would be entirely unladylike.

Ana taps one finger to her lip,‭ ‬taking a step forward to more closely examine Rubii,‭ ‬the scarlet creature still clinging to the ceiling,‭ ‬glaring at the rest of the team.‭ “‬Then the question remains‭ ‬--‭ ‬what shall we do with this remnant of the underworld‭?”

“Ms.‭ ‬Wren,‭ ‬if you’d be able to coerce it into doing so,‭ ‬we could bring your wee friend here to one of the manor’s holding cells,‭” ‬Mr.‭ ‬Commons suggests,‭ ‬cautiously slipping one hand into the back pocket of his breeches and withdrawing a curious copper device adorned with buttons and switches,‭ ‬its make and purpose both unknown to me.‭ “‬Some tests may prove quite useful in understanding the rifts,‭ ‬and,‭ ‬obviously,‭ ‬their denizens.‭”

“You would keep the creature‭ ‬among us‭?” ‬Erasmus snarls,‭ ‬his breathing hot and heavy in his partially-transformed shape.‭ “‬We are a society of hunters,‭ ‬not scholars.‭ ‬We kill creatures like this.‭”

“And you’d deny us our greatest chance at learning how to better do so‭?” ‬Edgar retorts swiftly.

‭“‬By doing what‭? ‬Asking it questions‭? ‬Learning its‭ ‬feelings‭?‬ It could open a rift right beneath the floorboards‭!” ‬the lycanthrope’s voice raises to a growling bellow.

‭“‬If you kill that creature without understanding it,‭” ‬the scot bites back,‭ ‬taking on a low,‭ ‬icy tone.‭ “‬You’re no better than the ignorant peasants that would see you beneath their pitchfork because of your wolf’s blood.‭ ‬Like it or not,‭ ‬that creature--‭”

“She has a name.‭”

Edgar blinks,‭ ‬and he and Erasmus both turn their heads to face me.‭ ‬Rubii herself seems as agitated as ever,‭ ‬but relaxes at the sound of my voice.‭ ‬Ana merely grins.

‭“‬I’m sorry‭?” ‬Edgar mumbles.

‭“‬Her name’s Rubii.‭ ‬She can communicate.‭ ‬She’s not...‭” ‬I swallow hard.‭ “‬She’s not a thing,‭ ‬she’s a person.‭ ‬She’s alive.‭”

There’s silence for a long moment,‭ ‬and I see Mr.‭ ‬Grey’s hackles lower,‭ ‬the bristling hair sprouted from his chest and shoulders receding to its ordinary length,‭ ‬fangs shifting back into teeth.‭ ‬Unexpectedly,‭ ‬it’s Anathema who breaks the silence.

‭“‬Captivity,‭ ‬then,‭ ‬for now.‭ ‬We learn what...‭ ‬Rubii,‭ ‬was it‭? ‬We learn what she knows,‭ ‬after you’ve better recovered.‭ ‬If she doesn’t cooperate,‭ ‬well...‭ ‬we can find a different way to deal with her.‭” ‬The vampyre shoots me another small,‭ ‬understanding smile,‭ ‬and I begin to wonder if I’ve misjudged her‭ ‬--‭ ‬if there’s more human to her than her icy superiority and smouldering sensuousness let on.

‭“‬...Fine,‭” ‬Erasmus snarls,‭ ‬shifting completely back into his human form now,‭ ‬though he still appears quite displeased.‭ “‬Do as you will.‭” ‬He turns and strides back through the door he came in from,‭ ‬while Mr.‭ ‬Commons presses one of the buttons on his strange device.‭ ‬A beam of light,‭ ‬as that from a hooded lantern,‭ ‬casts forth from the small antennae at its oblong end,‭ ‬lancing towards Rubii and then...‭ ‬shaping itself around her.‭ ‬Regrettably,‭ ‬the curious artifice behind it is quite beyond my understanding,‭ ‬and I can only observe as the beam forms into a transparent globe around the red-skinned beauty.

‭“‬Alright,‭ ‬lass,‭ ‬time for you to come with me,‭” ‬Mr.‭ ‬Commons insists,‭ ‬beckoning Rubii towards him and keeping the device firmly in hand.‭ ‬She tests it cautiously,‭ ‬poking at the ends of the globe and finding them distressingly solid‭ ‬--‭ ‬and looks to me.‭ ‬Despite my uncertainty of what may occur to her in captivity,‭ ‬I know this is as much of a compromise as I’ll be able to squeeze from the society of hunters.‭ ‬Inhaling through my nose,‭ ‬I manage enough strength to nod.‭ ‬She slinks down from the wall,‭ ‬keeping to a low,‭ ‬crouching prowl,‭ ‬and follows Edgar out of the infirmary as well.

‭“‬Well,‭ ‬looks like you’ve had quite a bit of excitement for the day,‭” ‬Anathema smirks at me,‭ ‬arms folded across her chest,‭ ‬one hip playfully posed to the side.

‭“‬Indeed,‭” ‬I sigh.‭ “‬Now if only I had strength to stand.‭”

“Actually,‭ ‬I had an idea for that.‭ ‬Though you may find it...‭ ‬distasteful.‭”

“Dare I ask‭?”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The time after Anathema leaves me alone is not as restful as I might have hoped.‭ ‬Worries plague my mind,‭ ‬growing ever the more frustrating alongside my inability to get up and move.‭ ‬The desire to distract my mind‭ ‬--‭ ‬whether to take a meal,‭ ‬brush my hair,‭ ‬or even to simply pace‭ ‬--‭ ‬grows stronger and stronger as I consider what might be happening to Rubii,‭ ‬how she’s being treated and what part she’ll play in the Blackmere Society as a whole.‭ ‬Of course,‭ ‬were she to communicate more clearly and truly ally herself to our cause‭ (‬be it out of vengeance,‭ ‬loyalty,‭ ‬or whatever other motive‭) ‬she could become our greatest asset.‭ ‬Someone who truly understands what we’re going up against.

This train of thought,‭ ‬though,‭ ‬leads me to my own inevitable imitation of the Greek figure Narcissus‭ ‬--‭ ‬a contemplation of the red-skinned woman transitioning to contemplation of my own self,‭ ‬my place within this sinister league of hunters and huntresses.‭ ‬I made a reasonable showing for myself at the asylum,‭ ‬but while I did manage to close the rift,‭ ‬the process was so draining that I’ve been left utterly useless.‭ ‬If an attack was made on the manor right this instant,‭ ‬I’d be of less use than the bed I’m stuck in.

So lost do I become in my thoughts that I in no way notice the entrance of the final member of the Society,‭ ‬slipping through the wall entirely and creeping to my side.‭ ‬It isn’t until I hear that quiet,‭ ‬tinny sound that I realize the Wraith is beside me,‭ ‬and a piteous yelp escapes me in the instant before I remember her allegiances.‭ “‬Goodness‭!” ‬I gasp,‭ ‬trying to wiggle back a bit onto the bed,‭ ‬but making no noteworthy progress.‭ “‬I’m...‭ ‬I must apologize,‭ ‬Wraith.‭ ‬You gave me quite a fright.‭”

The Wraith simply stares at me,‭ ‬narrowing her eyes very slightly,‭ ‬her translucent form drawing a little closer to mine.‭ ‬She opens her mouth,‭ ‬and no sound comes out‭ ‬--‭ ‬though that buzzing noise grows slightly louder.‭ ‬I can almost see her ghostly lips form words,‭ ‬but even were I a skilled lip-reader I fear they’d be in a tongue I have no grasp of.‭ ‬The one thing I can tell,‭ ‬simply from the expression on her war-painted face,‭ ‬is that she seems to be asking some kind of question.

‭“‬Are you...‭ ‬I-I’m very sorry,‭ ‬I don’t understand,‭” ‬I murmur,‭ ‬trying to still my heart as I wither under the gaze of the Wraith.‭ ‬She’s the one member of the Society‭ (‬the God in Bondage,‭ ‬naturally,‭ ‬set aside‭) ‬that I haven’t entirely grown accustomed to the sight of.‭ ‬Her silence and translucence I both find rather unnerving,‭ ‬and now the way that she’s staring at me,‭ ‬like she’s offering something but cannot find words for it...‭ ‬I don’t know if--

I suck in a deep gasp of air,‭ ‬my lungs going cold as she shifts forward.‭ ‬I feel something press against me‭ ‬--‭ ‬rather like being slowly submerged in ice-cold butter‭ ‬--‭ ‬and then feel the Wraith slide into me.‭ ‬A sensation like an electrical shock courses over every inch of skin,‭ ‬my body trembling madly as I try to suppress the urge to be sick.‭ “‬Gllkk--‭!” ‬I cough out,‭ ‬my body staying tense,‭ ‬twitching as my subconscious attempts to purge the new presence within me.

...Twitching...‭?

I breathe in again,‭ ‬then hold the air within my lungs,‭ ‬trying to settle my stomach and acclimate to the strange presence.‭ ‬Teeth clenched together,‭ ‬I wind my fingers inward into a fist,‭ ‬tightening it.‭ ‬Was...‭ ‬was it my spirit,‭ ‬not my body,‭ ‬that rendered me unable to move...‭?

Quite abruptly,‭ ‬I feel myself shoot up and out of bed,‭ ‬wobbling to both feet while my arms scramble to preserve my modesty with the white linen blanket I’d been provided.‭ ‬I blink both eyes rapidly,‭ ‬my stomach still churning and body trembling as it struggles to hold an entire second soul.

‭“‬An bhfuil sé seo níos fearr‭?”

The voice comes from inside my mind,‭ ‬that soft buzzing swelling in volume and taking shape,‭ ‬twisting itself into words,‭ ‬but not ones I can comprehend.‭ ‬I can feel her squirming within me,‭ ‬making herself comfortable.‭ “‬I don’t know what you’re saying‭!” ‬I shout aloud,‭ ‬before clapping one hand over my mouth in sudden shame.‭ ‬It would be quite unbecoming to allow my anxiety to attract the attention of the rest of the Society.

‭“‬Socraigh,‭”‬ the Wraith whispers back.‭ ‬I try to steady myself,‭ ‬wrapping the blanket around myself more fully.‭ ‬Each movement seems to lag a moment,‭ ‬my body struggling to catch up with the commands of my mind‭ ‬--‭ ‬presumably as the poltergeist within me works to operate my limbs.

‭“‬Alright,‭ ‬alright,‭ ‬this shouldn’t be so troubling,‭” ‬panicked whispers roll out under my breath.‭ “‬I should have known things like...‭ ‬this...‭ ‬might occur when I joined Blackmere.‭ ‬But it does feel so...‭ ‬so strange.‭”

“Ní gá.‭ ‬Tá do chorp te,‭ ‬mothaíonn sé milis.‭ ‬Éist liom,‭ ‬déan teagmháil liom.‭”‬ I cannot be certain whether my body is driven by her soul or my own,‭ ‬but I sit back at the edge of the bed,‭ ‬letting out a deep,‭ ‬soft breath as I start to relax,‭ ‬just a little.‭ ‬Having her within me is curious,‭ ‬but not,‭ ‬perhaps,‭ ‬so unpleasant as I may have thought at first.‭ ‬Her presence is cooling,‭ ‬yet lively,‭ ‬like something moving and stirring just beneath the surface of my skin‭ ‬--‭ ‬almost tantalizing,‭ ‬like being touched,‭ ‬caressed from within rather than without.

‭“‬I...‭ ‬suppose I should try to find some more suitable clothing,‭ ‬if there’s any nearby,‭” ‬I whisper under my breath,‭ ‬stumbling back up to my feet and starting to search the infirmary,‭ ‬though each step still feels like treading water.‭ ‬It’s but a moment,‭ ‬though,‭ ‬before I find a small hamper filled with bedgowns and slip into one‭ ‬--‭ ‬enough to preserve whatever modesty I yet retain while I make my way back to my room to find my robes.‭ ‬I’m almost to the door,‭ ‬my gait as determined as it is labored,‭ ‬when I feel a devious hand sliding up my body,‭ ‬making its way to my breast.‭ ‬I stiffen,‭ ‬eyes flying wide,‭ ‬when I feel fingers squeeze lustfully around the soft swell of flesh.

My fingers.

‭“‬...Wraith...‭?”

More nonsense words burble from within my mind,‭ ‬though more rushed now,‭ ‬breathlessly whispered into the dark cavern of my soul.‭ ‬The hand gropes a little harder,‭ ‬fingers shifting to my nipple,‭ ‬giving it a needy pinch and tug.‭ ‬A jolt of pleasure resonates through me,‭ ‬seeming to echo along my body,‭ ‬and I hear a tense moan of pleasure from the Wraith,‭ ‬utterly wordless and primal,‭ ‬and I buckle‭ ‬--‭ ‬falling down to one knee as I struggle against the anxious spirit within me.‭ ‬I try to pull my hand away from my own chest,‭ ‬despite the sensation being an admittedly thrilling one,‭ ‬but find it holds fast,‭ ‬my will unable to overcome the Wraith’s single-minded focus.

‭“‬M-miss,‭ ‬I--‭ ‬nnngh--‭” ‬I groan out as she teases my nipple a little harder,‭ ‬my other hand now descending beneath the white shift,‭ ‬fingers stroking inward along the netherward skin of my thigh,‭ ‬gooseflesh erupting along it as my own hand heads for something far more illicit.‭ ‬It occurs to me that,‭ ‬having endured death itself for what must have been at least several centuries,‭ ‬my body’s new coachwoman may be more than a little eager to taste the pleasures of the flesh.‭ ‬Perhaps it would be...‭ ‬worthwhile to indulge her,‭ ‬keep her calm,‭ ‬that I may keep greater control of my own faculties in the meantime.‭ “‬S-stop--‭ ‬just--‭ ‬l-let me get to my room‭! ‬And then we can...‭ ‬you can do as you will,‭ ‬with me.‭ ‬Does that sound e-entirely fair‭?”

I hold my breath as I endure a pause,‭ ‬waiting for the ghost-warrior to give her reply,‭ ‬and then finally feel my hands slip to a neutral position.‭ ‬Still,‭ ‬I can feel a hum inside me,‭ ‬swelling and cavorting,‭ ‬desperate to burst forth.‭ ‬I’ve bought myself a moment,‭ ‬but it has yet to be seen how long that moment may last‭ ‬--‭ ‬time to get back to my room on the second floor.

‭“‬Thank you,‭” ‬I whisper,‭ ‬making my way for the door and now finding my body much less divided,‭ ‬both my full attention and the Wraith’s devoted to getting me upstairs.‭ ‬I hold the lower hem of my shift close against my body so as not to show off any more thigh than is entirely necessary for the ill-fitting nightshirt,‭ ‬cautiously creeping past Mr.‭ ‬Commons‭’ ‬study and into Blackmere Manor’s spacious entry room,‭ ‬where I know the stairs will be.

Licking my lips,‭ ‬I peek around the corner to make sure there are none to spot my ascent‭; ‬I can deal with the issue of my disappearance from the infirmary‭ ‬after the Wraith’s undying impulses are satisfied.‭ ‬When it looks to be clear,‭ ‬I start to move forward on the tips of my toes,‭ ‬heading for the stairs‭ ‬--‭ ‬when I’m jarred to a stop by a gruff voice coming from behind me.‭ ‬A voice that could only belong to one person inside the manor.

‭“‬Brialla‭?”

Swallowing hard,‭ ‬I chew my bottom lip and turn.‭ ‬I can feel the Wraith growing more anxious inside of me,‭ ‬as if she’s pulling me every which way‭ ‬--‭ ‬then only forward when I finish my pivot and see Erasmus,‭ ‬clad as usual in only trousers and black vest,‭ ‬his shoulders imposingly broad,‭ ‬chest and stomach alarmingly muscled.‭ ‬Things I’d noticed in the past,‭ ‬of course,‭ ‬but now I feel like the Wraith is noticing them along with me,‭ ‬admiring the physique of the pale-haired lycanthrope while I frantically search for something to say.‭ “‬Mr.‭ ‬Grey‭!” ‬I exclaim,‭ ‬my breath catching in my throat.‭ “‬You’re...‭ ‬here‭!”

“As are you.‭ ‬Shouldn’t you still be in bed‭?” ‬the man asks bluntly,‭ ‬one dark brow arched.

‭“‬Ah--‭ ‬no‭! ‬I’m feeling quite better now,‭ ‬found some...‭ ‬strength,‭ ‬and...‭ ‬thought I’d head back to my own room‭! ‬Much more restful when you have good books to pass the time with,‭ ‬and I’ve brought so many along with me in my luggage,‭ ‬so I thought I’d--‭” ‬I start backing upward,‭ ‬struggling against the Wraith’s urge to lunge into Erasmus.‭ ‬Such a wicked woman‭! ‬If I’d known how crazed she was,‭ ‬I would never have given consent for her to...‭ ‬invade me‭! ‬Not that I really did,‭ ‬anyway.

‭“‬Wait‭! ‬Brialla--‭ ‬erm,‭ ‬Ms.‭ ‬Wren,‭” ‬Erasmus growls,‭ ‬holding out one meaty hand towards me.‭ “‬I wanted to apologize for this morning.‭ ‬My behavior regarding your...‭ ‬friend.‭”

“Ah,‭ ‬yes,‭ ‬right,‭ ‬well,‭ ‬no need worrying about that any longer,‭ ‬everything’s fine now,‭ ‬I‭ ‬really should go,‭ ‬don’t--‭”

“Are you,‭ ‬err...‭ ‬you have an itch or something‭?”

No more stalling,‭ ‬no more doubt or pondering of any form of decency.‭ ‬I’ve been attracted to Erasmus since arriving at Blackmere Manor,‭ ‬and that shred of genuine weakness is all it takes for the Wraith to break through.‭ ‬I lunge towards him,‭ ‬almost a pounce like that of a great cat or hunting serpent,‭ ‬my bitten-down nails clawing hungrily down his chest as I press my lips to his,‭ ‬locking the sullen lycanthrope in a wild embrace‭ ‬--‭ ‬though I am driven,‭ ‬both body and spirit,‭ ‬by the outside entity that navigates my form.‭ ‬I taste his hot breath against mine,‭ ‬the roughness of his dark stubble against my chin,‭ ‬as my fingers play down along the man’s muscular chest,‭ ‬drawing lower and lower along the avenue provided by his open vest.

Curiously,‭ ‬it’s a long moment before I feel a response from Erasmus.‭ ‬He tilts his looming frame down just a bit,‭ ‬returning my kiss‭ ‬--‭ ‬softly,‭ ‬then fiercely,‭ ‬as if the slightest surrender to desire leaves him devoid of reason entirely,‭ ‬impulse taking over.‭ ‬Strong hands move to my hips,‭ ‬squeezing them softly,‭ ‬feeling me,‭ ‬quickly starting to draw up the sides of the shift I’m clad in.‭ ‬Within my mind,‭ ‬I can feel the Wraith indulge in riotous celebration,‭ ‬her entire psyche seeming to coil in the throes of desire,‭ ‬as the arching back of a lover brought to ecstasy.

‭“‬What...‭ ‬what are...‭” ‬Erasmus growls into my mouth,‭ ‬biting down onto my lower lip with small,‭ ‬sharp canines while my hands descend,‭ ‬delving into his trousers to take hold of his remarkable manhood‭ ‬--‭ ‬finding it to have already engorged itself in anticipation at quite an impressive rate.‭ ‬Kissing again,‭ ‬not answering,‭ ‬I begin to squeeze it,‭ ‬begin to stroke his massive shaft back and forth beneath his underthings.‭ ‬To my great surprise,‭ ‬however‭ ‬--‭ ‬and to that of the Wraith as well,‭ ‬I feel‭ ‬--‭ ‬he takes his position more firmly,‭ ‬placing both hands at my slight shoulders and pushing me away.‭ “‬What are you doing‭?!”

“I need you,‭” ‬I whisper,‭ ‬looking back up at him.‭ ‬I can feel my vision blur as I look through two pairs of eyes,‭ ‬as if my gaze was glassed over by drink or weariness while my body remained a dynamo of lustful activity,‭ ‬pushing myself back against him.‭ “‬I need you,‭ ‬I need you‭ ‬--‭ ‬I’ll do whatever you ask of me‭! ‬Claim whichever passage of mine pleases you,‭ ‬just as long as I feel you...‭ ‬f-feel‭ ‬something...‭!‬” I cannot tell if the words that leave my mouth belong to me,‭ ‬or the undead huntress within me,‭ ‬the one reducing me to such a slattern with so little concern for my reputation.‭ ‬But whichever of us it is,‭ ‬I know I cannot hold back the tide of words and actions,‭ ‬pawing at Mr.‭ ‬Grey’s chest again,‭ ‬my opposite hand reaching back for the warm,‭ ‬throbbing thing in his trousers--

But his grip on my shoulders remains strong,‭ ‬and he continues to hold me at bay,‭ ‬icy eyes boring into my own,‭ ‬doubtful and inquisitive.‭ “‬You aren’t her,‭” ‬he growls.

‭“‬I--‭”

“Wraith.‭ ‬Are you doing this‭? ‬Do you bend Brialla to your will‭?” ‬The certainty in his voice makes me wonder if such a thing has happened before‭ ‬--‭ ‬or if,‭ ‬perhaps,‭ ‬it happens with some frequency.

‭“‬Glac dúinn araon,‭ ‬beithigh‭!” ‬I yelp out,‭ ‬my eyes wide.‭ ‬This,‭ ‬however,‭ ‬I am‭ ‬quite certain is not my words.

‭“‬No,‭” ‬Erasmus snarls,‭ ‬seeming to have understood what I said better than I did.‭ “‬Ms.‭ ‬Wren,‭ ‬if you’re still in there,‭ ‬listen close‭ ‬--‭ ‬when I finally take you to my room,‭ ‬lay you down,‭ ‬and show you the most intense,‭ ‬bestial intercourse you’ve ever seen,‭ ‬it will be with your permission.‭ ‬Tell the Wraith she’ll need to slake her thirst in a different way.‭” ‬With that,‭ ‬he drops one hand from my shoulder and reaches into his pocket,‭ ‬withdrawing a handful of white powder and pushing his hand out,‭ ‬scattering it across my chest.‭ ‬I feel every fiber of my being attempt to retreat,‭ ‬try to pull away,‭ ‬but the werewolf is far too quick‭ ‬--‭ ‬I topple to the ground as the Wraith is blasted from my body.

‭“‬...Good sir,‭” ‬I stammer,‭ ‬struggling back to my feet before I realize that I’m doing so.‭ ‬The corner of my eye shows the Wraith letting out a silent banshee’s wail of frustration before fading through a wall,‭ ‬leaving visibility altogether.‭ “‬I,‭ ‬err...‭ ‬thank you.‭ ‬A lesser man would have found such an advantage too favorable to dismiss.‭”

“I prefer prey that runs,‭” ‬he says,‭ ‬a dark grin spreading across his face.‭ ‬Nodding down to my legs,‭ ‬he continues.‭ “‬I see you’ve found your strength.‭”

I blink,‭ ‬glancing down as well and finding myself unexpectedly standing.‭ ‬Curious.‭ “‬Oh,‭ ‬ah...‭ ‬yes‭! ‬It would seem so.‭ ‬That’s rather strange.‭”

“Perhaps you simply needed some exercise,‭” ‬the shapechanger smirks,‭ ‬offering a short bow to me.‭ “‬I’ll let you get to where you were going.‭”

“Ah,‭ ‬indeed‭! ‬And pretend this never happened,‭ ‬hopefully.‭”

“Oh,‭ ‬I wouldn’t go that far.‭ ‬I recall something about‭ ‘‬claiming whichever passage of yours pleased me,‭’ ‬I don’t plan on forgetting that right away.‭” ‬Another grin,‭ ‬though this one carries a bit more of a boyish arrogance than Mr.‭ ‬Grey’s predatory leerings past.‭ ‬My tongue catches as I try to come up with an answer,‭ ‬but he slips past me without another word‭ ‬--‭ ‬out of the common area and out of the mansion entirely,‭ ‬out into the gloom and rain that perpetually pitter-patters upon Blackmere Manor.

I force myself to inhale deeply,‭ ‬catching my breath after such a...‭ ‬rather anxious encounter.‭ ‬I confess a restlessness remaining in my body,‭ ‬though,‭ ‬a tingle of desire that leaves me wondering what choice I would have made had the Wraith not been stealing my decisions from me.‭ ‬A question for another night,‭ ‬perhaps.

With the newfound use of my legs,‭ ‬my body unstable but seemingly back to an ambulatory state,‭ ‬I make my way up the winding,‭ ‬crimson-carpeted staircase to my own room,‭ ‬slipping the shift back off of my naked figure and grabbing a book from my luggage,‭ ‬still left open from when I’d gathered my robes to close the asylum rift.‭ ‬I tumble onto the bed,‭ ‬then,‭ ‬my body immediately grateful for rest after even such a short spell of activity.‭ ‬Men’s Guide to the Practicality of Geometry in Ritual Magicks,‭ ‬by Dr.‭ ‬Richard Grant.‭ ‬Even outside the appeals of study and the church,‭ ‬I must endure the self-aggrandizement of the rougher sex‭ ‬--‭ ‬still,‭ ‬I’m halfway through the massive tome,‭ ‬bound in thin slats of wood wrapped in light blue canvas,‭ ‬and learned a decent bit from it.‭ ‬Would be wasteful to turn back now.

I flip to the pigeon’s feather marking the place I stopped and reach for my reading spectacles,‭ ‬rolling onto my stomach to peruse the complex elaboration upon the extensive thesis.‭ ‬I only make it a single page in,‭ ‬however,‭ ‬before I find myself interrupted‭ ‬--‭ ‬by perhaps the last presence I may have expected to see.‭ ‬Drifting through the wall as if it were composed of clear water,‭ ‬the Wraith drifts into my bedchamber,‭ ‬her expression somber and her eyes downcast.‭ ‬I slip the bookmark back into place and recoil,‭ ‬eyes narrowing.‭ “‬You‭! ‬Apparition‭! ‬Why do you continue to bedevil me‭?!”

The Wraith,‭ ‬characteristically,‭ ‬says nothing,‭ ‬but her translucent figure continues to glide towards me before dropping to a kneel at the edge of the bed.‭ ‬Her eyes remain low,‭ ‬her face sober,‭ ‬hands at her sides.‭ ‬She seems almost...‭ ‬ashamed‭?

“Wraith‭? ‬Are you...‭ ‬why are you here‭?”

Her eyes shift sideways,‭ ‬then low,‭ ‬indicating the lower floor of the manor.‭ ‬She then looks back to me‭ ‬--‭ ‬our eyes meet,‭ ‬and in that instant I don’t need her to speak to understand her.

‭“‬You’re apologizing,‭” ‬I whisper.

The ghost nods,‭ ‬lowering her gaze again,‭ ‬and I find myself considering her predicament.‭ ‬She is clearly always active,‭ ‬taken by neither sleep nor inebriation,‭ ‬unable to communicate.‭ ‬Alone with her thoughts and feelings,‭ ‬yet she dedicates herself to slaying the evils beneath the world.‭ ‬Perhaps,‭ ‬in her predicament,‭ ‬I would make the same mistakes she had.‭ ‬Perhaps I might be worse.

Slowly,‭ ‬I set the book on my nightstand and extend my hand to her.‭ “‬Would you...‭ ‬like to come back in‭?”

Her eyes flicker back up to me,‭ ‬excited now,‭ ‬though questioning.‭ ‬She raises her own hand slightly,‭ ‬reaching toward me but not touching me.‭ ‬I close the distance,‭ ‬taking her fingers with my own,‭ ‬and the Wraith vanishes‭ ‬--‭ ‬drifting into me,‭ ‬filling me,‭ ‬possessing me.‭ ‬I can feel her lust again,‭ ‬conjoining with my own restlessness,‭ ‬swelling until I cannot tell what is her and what is me.‭ ‬I no longer feel the discomfort of having her within me,‭ ‬but lay back against the bed,‭ ‬back arching as my desire overwhelms me...‭ ‬overwhelms us.‭ ‬I’m done resisting.

My hands drift to my body,‭ ‬caressing up my stomach and to my breasts,‭ ‬groping one while my other hand fondles my stiffening nipples.‭ ‬Jolts of pleasure tremble along my body in duet,‭ ‬the ghost’s soul singing along with mine,‭ ‬relishing in the slightest touch,‭ ‬enhancing my own pleasure as I experience its more resonant echo.‭ ‬For each touch of my own physical hands,‭ ‬however,‭ ‬I feel another touch‭ ‬--‭ ‬like invisible fingers caressing along my body,‭ ‬touching my thighs,‭  ‬raking tenderly along my hips and the sides of my posterior,‭ ‬making me tremble in the sweetness.‭ “‬Aaahhh....‭”

“AaaAah...‭!”

I can feel her,‭ ‬taste her.‭ ‬She cries out when I do,‭ ‬arches as I arch,‭ ‬her shivers an after-image of my own.‭ ‬A discordant ripple.‭ ‬I pinch my fingers along my nipple more firmly,‭ ‬crying out,‭ ‬but the Wraith grows bolder‭ ‬--‭ ‬she needs more.‭ ‬The fingers drifting along my lower body become more formless,‭ ‬extensions of her will,‭ ‬ghostly appendages that press and rub along my womanhood,‭ ‬grinding against the slick pink slit that I hadn’t realized had grown so warm or so wet.‭ ‬The appendage slides forwards and back along me,‭ ‬sawing itself against my nethers,‭ ‬making me shriek out in delight again,‭ ‬my thighs clenching together around it,‭ ‬feeling as it begins to shift its form once again.‭ ‬Taking on a shape,‭ ‬however crude‭; ‬smooth,‭ ‬cylindrical,‭ ‬bluntly tapered at its end.‭ ‬It seems a devilish,‭ ‬incorporeal approximation of a male member,‭ ‬though it feels so entirely real as it presses against my womanly opening and then slips inside,‭ ‬sliding deep into me,‭ ‬drawing an unhinged shriek from my lips.‭ “‬AAaaaighHh...‭!‬”

I continue to massage and caress myself,‭ ‬hands wandering up and down my squirming body,‭ ‬joined by a legions-worth more of prodding,‭ ‬touching fingers,‭ ‬trailing along my sides and hips,‭ ‬rubbing my nipples in slow circles.‭ ‬Two even drift into my mouth,‭ ‬forcing me to greedily suck at them while my hips buck,‭ ‬rocking forward against the eldritch appendage sliding in and out of me.‭ ‬Another such coil of invisible ectoplasm slithers between my breasts,‭ ‬wrapping around one and squeezing gently,‭ ‬while a third seems to see my bucking as an opening to snake beneath me,‭ ‬prodding against my lower entrance.‭ ‬It’s cool and slick,‭ ‬like the first,‭ ‬causing me to tremble again as it forces its way into my posterior.

I throw my head back and scream,‭ ‬caring not who hears me.‭ ‬The way the Wraith manifests her will is almost torturously decadent,‭ ‬reacting to every slight shift of my body.‭ ‬She shifts when I relax,‭ ‬advances when I recoil,‭ ‬a sexual fencing match in which she lands every strike and deftly parries every counter.‭ ‬My toes curl and clench against the balls of my feet,‭ ‬hands finally falling to my sides to form fists in the sheets of my bed.‭ ‬The strange,‭ ‬ghastly tendrils assault me from all sides now,‭ ‬growing faster,‭ ‬though still focusing on my two sinful entrances,‭ ‬slithering effortlessly in and out of them,‭ ‬growing rougher when I need them rougher,‭ ‬then damning me with their slow,‭ ‬tormenting rhythm.‭ “‬Hhahh...‭ ‬nnhhhaAHH...‭ ‬eeah,‭ ‬Mother of‭ ‬GOD‭!‬”

I cling to the bed and thrash against it,‭ ‬writhing like a woman possessed‭ ‬--‭ ‬which,‭ ‬I suppose,‭ ‬is exactly what I am.‭ ‬My screams echo through the bedchamber as climax seizes me,‭ ‬followed by another,‭ ‬then another as I feel the Wraith’s pleasure reach its zenith as well,‭ ‬exploding through me,‭ ‬ghostly lights flickering around me even as the lights themselves switch off.‭ ‬The strange tendrils do not relent,‭ ‬continuing their curious dance against my sensations,‭ ‬driving into my womanhood and anus‭ ‬like the pistons of some great steam engine,‭ ‬driving me to another climax,‭ ‬and another,‭ ‬and another.‭ ‬It feels like hours‭ ‬--‭ ‬though I know it likely was not,‭ ‬as such‭ ‬--‭ ‬before the pleasure calms,‭ ‬the appendages slowing to a halt before dissolving within me,‭ ‬as if they’d never existed.

I lay sprawled across the bed,‭ ‬panting,‭ ‬hands and feet reaching for all four corners as I try to steal back my breath.‭ ‬The Wraith’s cold presence has become warming now,‭ ‬soothing,‭ ‬like the folded arms of a lover after a most intense...‭ ‬coupling.‭ ‬The lights in the manor begin to slowly flicker back on.

‭“‬That...‭ ‬w-was....‭”

I close my eyes,‭ ‬resting.‭ ‬I can still feel her in me,‭ ‬the warm buzzing of her consciousness swimming through my thoughts.‭ ‬I make a mental note to...‭ ‬call on the apparition again,‭ ‬in the future.

‭“‬...Remarkable.‭”