Message-ID: <26939asstr$972033004@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: "Jack of all Trades" X-Original-Message-ID: <8so4fj$inf$1@topsy.kiva.net> X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400 Subject: {ASSM} Eternal Rest - Halloween <*> (mf) Jack Date: Fri, 20 Oct 2000 05:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, gill-bates {ASSM} Eternal Rest - Halloween <*> (mf) Jack This work of fiction is for the entertainment of adults in locations where it is legal. If it is illegal in your location, don't read it! This work is copyrighted. Reposting or any other use is strictly prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder. E-mail me, I'll probably give you permission. I just want to know and control where it is posted. This story may be posted as part of a review or to the ASSM archive. My thanks to Expert Editor, Ruthie, for her editing and suggestions. Any errors you find are my fault not hers. Tell me what you liked, or didn't like. Please! E-mail address: jackofalltrades@post.com My stories can be found at my website: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/j/wwwoat or http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Jack_of_all_Trades/ Copyright 2000 by Jack of all Trades I wasn't originally going to do a Halloween story. I was too caught up in some other stories I've been working on, but then I got blocked and this one came to me. My eternal thanks to Ruthie for everything, and to you for reading. Turn down the lights, light some candles, and let your mind wander. Keep a flashlight handy, you might need it to bop the cat or dog on the snout when they jump on you at the wrong moment. Eternal Rest by Jack of all Trades It started, as most trouble does when you're a teenager, on a dare. All Hallow's Eve was approaching and we were studying Poe's "The Telltale Heart" in Mrs. Peters' English class. English was fourth period, broken in half by lunch. We usually sat together. Cal Gaver, Larry Monroe, Eugene "Buck" Talhelm (he hated Eugene and beat the crap out of anyone who called him that, so we called him Buck), Molly Vickers, and myself, Doug Newton. We'd been together since elementary school. Five fast friends, thick as thieves and close as brothers and a sister since we were small. We were fifteen and immortal, or so we thought. But now, looking back on it, nobody is immortal, not even a fifteen year- old and his friends. Contemplation of mortality isn't for the young, but they haven't seen what I saw or heard what I heard. Outwardly, I'm still fifteen. Inwardly, I'm not so sure anymore. We sat at the lunch table discussing the story. Most of the stories we had to read for English class were boring, but Poe's was one that really held our interest. With Halloween approaching, the macabre was all we thought about. We were above dressing up and trick-or-treating but not above scaring the bejeebers out of each other. We talked of scary places and it was Cal who brought up graveyards. I'd never found them particularly scary and said so, but the others soon made me admit I'd never been in one other than in daylight. "The scariest cemetery around is Eternal Rest," Larry told us. "The place is a dump, gravestones knocked over, and nobody bothers with it anymore. I get the creeps anytime I go near it." There was murmured assent to it being the worst kept up, if not the scariest. "It's perfect!" Cal said excitedly. "Look, Halloween is on a Friday this year. We don't have to get up early for anything or go to school next day. What do you say we take our sleeping bags and camp in the graveyard Halloween night? We can sit around and tell ghost stories and cook marshmallows until we fall asleep. It'll be great." "Are you nuts? Nobody camps in a graveyard," I said in a voice a little louder than I meant to make it. A couple of people at the table next to ours turned to listen in to our conversation. "Geez, Doug, announce it to the whole school, why don't you?" Cal said, glaring at me. "I'm with Doug on this. Nobody camps in a graveyard," Molly said quietly. The people at the next table turned back around. "I think camping in a graveyard is one of those things that sounds cool, but isn't in reality," Buck said. Cal grinned slyly. "What's the matter, you guys chicken?" That simple question shifted the balance from whether it would be a fun thing to do, to whether we'd be willing to lose face within our group. There was posturing and cajoling, but even while we argued the result had already been determined. We were going camping in a graveyard on Halloween. We arrived a half-hour before sunset. It had been windy all day but warmer than expected for the end of October. The weather reports called for the front to pass sometime during the night, with no expectations of rain. Cal wanted to camp on top of a grave but we quickly nixed that idea and found a spot with few grave markers and the added attraction of an old elm tree that stubbornly held on to its remaining leaves. We arranged loose rocks in a small circle to contain the fire, and filled it with branches from a dead tree that had fallen over. Before the sun had set we had our fire started. The wood wasn't seasoned enough to burn cleanly and it popped and sputtered as the sap boiled out. Molly broke out the marshmallows and we all made sharp-pointed sticks to cook them on. Larry decided to tell his ghost story first. It was a lame tale about a ghost that haunted our town in search of someone new to take its place. Not much to scare us, but good for a laugh. Buck rooted around in his sleeping bag and pulled out a six-pack of beer, flashing us a broad grin. "I snagged some brew from the old man's stash," he said proudly. He passed the beer around and we each took one. The pops of the escaping carbonation as we opened our beers echoed strangely off the grave markers around us. As we sipped, Buck used the lull to tell his tale of a ghost that haunted this cemetery and lured unsuspecting visitors to their doom. Actually it could have been good if Buck had told it well, but telling stories was never his strong point. Cal and Larry snickered during what should have been the scariest parts, and Molly just giggled. Finally Buck finished the story. Silence. "Well?" Buck asked. "It was interesting," Molly said in a way that let you know it wasn't, but she didn't want to hurt Buck's feelings. "Geez, Eugene, that was about the worst ghost story ever," Larry said smiling at him. Buck started for him and Larry took off. "Yeah, Eugene, it sucked," Cal added. Buck turned to go after Cal and he took off too. Molly and I could hear them hooting and hollering as they ran through the graveyard, casting taunts of 'Eugene' every now and then at Buck. "They'll never grow up," Molly observed. "Probably not." "Why didn't you join in?" she asked me. "Didn't feel like it. You can only get chased so many times by Buck until it gets old." "So it's happening to you." "What is?" "You're growing up. This stuff seems so childish. Chasing each other, giving in to dares, camping in a graveyard. It just seems like something you'd do when you're little, you know?" I nodded. "So why'd you come?" "Because we're friends and always did these things together. And because you'd be here." "Me?" She smiled. "Yes, you. I've always felt closest to you, like the others were friends but we were best friends, you know?" "Yeah." I did know, I'd thought about being closer to Molly for some time now, but I knew that once I acted on it, our old friendships would change. Maybe they'd die or maybe they wouldn't. It was hard to tell. I probably would have done something about it if I knew she felt the same way, but I didn't know until now. Molly was cute in a tomboyish sort of way. She wasn't the sort of girl to dress up in frilly things or get all moony-eyed over something. Jeans and a t-shirt were her normal attire and I noticed lately that the clothing she wore hugged her body tighter than it used to. Somewhere between eighth grade and now she'd developed curves. We sat and finished our beers. I couldn't hear shouts anymore and wondered what had happened to Cal, Larry, and Buck. I looked at Molly. "I guess we better go look for them," she said with a sigh. We walked away from the campfire and began our search. I was surprised and a little aroused when Molly took my hand in hers, linking our fingers together. We wandered around. Once I hard a twig snap and called out to the guys, but no one answered. We headed toward the sound. "Do you think it was them?" Molly asked. "Probably." "Why wouldn't they answer?" "I imagine they're going to scare..." From three different directions hideous creatures jumped out at us, wailing like banshees. Molly screamed in fear. I pulled her tight into me, trying to protect her. I could feel her trembling against me in fright. My heart was thumping a mile a minute. The creatures began to laugh. "Got you good." I recognized Cal's voice. Molly struggled out of my hold. "Bastards!" she spat. Buck and Larry found this uproariously funny and fell to the ground, laughing and clutching their sides. An opening in the clouds skidded past the full moon and for a few moments I could see them. They were covered in mud. It was smeared on their faces, all over their clothes. "What happened to you?" I asked. "There's a big hill over there," Cal explained. "Buck tackled us and we rolled down it. Fell into a ditch. We heard you coming and decided to scare you. Jesus, you must have jumped three feet," he chortled. Buck and Larry groaned and laughed harder. I could see rivulets of tears in the mud on their faces just before clouds obscured the moon again. Molly tugged at my hand. "C'mon, let's get away from these jerks." She started walking back to the campsite. "Hey, don't go away mad," Cal laughed. "Just go away," Buck and Larry chimed in. Their laughter rang in our ears as we walked away. When we were far enough away that they couldn't see us, Molly pulled me in a new direction. "Where are we going?" "Someplace they aren't." She led me to a different area of the cemetery. An old monument loomed out of the darkness. It had a shoulder around it that was just the right height to sit on. Molly sat down and I sat beside her. "Do you think of me as more than a friend, Doug? Like, do you think about me as a woman?" I was pretty confused. One moment she was so mad I could feel it coming off her like heat from a radiator, and now she was asking whether I thought of her as a woman. "I-I don't know. Yeah, I guess so." "You guess so?" I could feel the heat of anger coming off her again, but this time it was directed at me. "I-I don't know what to say, Molly. I mean, I think about you, you know? I wonder how you feel about me, whether you'd like me like a boyfriend, and other stuff." She relaxed. "What other stuff?" "Like, like what it would feel like to kiss you," I said, hanging my head. She leaned into me. Her hand lifted my chin until I was staring into the biggest, softest, brown doe eyes I'd ever seen. She pressed her lips, soft and warm, against mine. They seemed to burn. The heat spread downward through my chest so I almost couldn't breathe, then spread lower through my stomach and down between my legs where my penis began to swell in response. Molly broke the kiss, her face hovering a few inches from mine. "Was it what you imagined?" she asked in a whisper. "Better." She smiled and kissed me again. I felt her tongue press against my lips and I opened them to allow it inside. Heat like I never imagined engulfed me. I clutched her to me, feeling like a drowning man clutching a life preserver. Our tongues moved together, wrestled for what seemed like hours. We both gasped for air when we broke the kiss. My lips felt swollen and hot. "I think about you a lot," she told me. "What it would be like when I kissed you, although I never imagined doing it in a cemetery," she laughed. "I wondered what your body would feel like, how we'd fit together. Ever since Sex Ed in fifth grade, I've thought about you like that instead of just as a friend." "I didn't know." "Now you do." "Yeah." "They've had time to get back to the campsite and discover us missing. They'll sit around expecting us to scare them." She grabbed my hand and put something in it. "What's that?" I asked. "A cherry bomb. I have one too. We sneak up behind them, then light them and run. It'll scare 'em shitless." "Yeah, it will," I laughed. "Remind me never to piss you off." "I doubt I could stay pissed at you for long." She smiled at me, then kissed me lightly. "For luck," she said. "You sneak around that way," she pointed toward my right, "and I'll go the other. I'll get behind the tree. When you're ready, hoot once like an owl. We'll light them and run." "Okay." She squeezed my hand, then turned and left. I snuck back toward where I thought the campsite was, concealing myself behind markers and monuments. After a few minutes I began to notice fog rolling in. Perfect. It would help conceal my movement and deaden the sound. I moved more rapidly, surprised I hadn't made it back yet, but there was no glow from the campfire. The fog was getting thicker. I leaned against a tree and tried to get my bearings. I looked up, and about 50 feet away, just visible through the mist, stood Molly in the nude. She was beautiful, perfect, and almost seemed to glow through the mist. She held her arms out to me as I walked slowly toward her. As I got closer, each detail of her body came into focus. Her nipples were large and brown, crinkled and erect. They stood out almost a half-inch from the small swells of her breasts. Her pubic hair was brown, matching the hair on her head. The curls were sparse, not enough to hide the cleft of her sex. "I want you," she said breathlessly as I neared her. I stepped into her embrace, shocked at how cold she was. "Jesus, Molly, you're freezing!" She hugged me tighter, then released me. "Make love to me, Doug. Warm me." I began stripping off my clothes. I was hard as a rock and my erection hampered me as I struggled out of my clothes. Soon I was as naked as Molly. I embraced her again. She was cold and I shivered against her. She guided us to the ground and me into position between her legs. "Fuck me, Doug. I want you in me." Her hand grasped my cock and I flinched at the icy touch of her fingers. She aligned me with her hole, then wrapped her legs around me, arching herself and moving her hips to seat me inside her. I slid into her depths easily. She was freezing even there and I felt myself shrinking. Her tongue traced at my ear as she whispered to me. "I'm so cold, Doug. Make me hot. Fuck me, baby. Fill me with your cock." I began moving. Her words inflamed me and stopped the wilting of my erection. "Oh yes, Doug. Pound me. Fuck me hard." She gave me little choice, slamming her hips up into mine at a furious pace. "Oh, your cock feels so good inside me. Fuck me baby, drive it deep." This was a Molly I'd never seen before, lewd, wanton, a harlot begging for my cock. I felt my balls tighten as orgasm approached. Molly must have felt it too. "Yes, Doug. I want your come. Fill me with it. Plant your seed in my belly. I need your essence." The voice was Molly's but the words seemed strange coming from her. She moaned, writhed, fucking me back like a woman possessed. The hotter she became, the colder I felt. She screamed, her feet beating against my ass, her body convulsing beneath me. Suddenly, her face morphed into a sallow-skinned hag. Her skin hung slackly, lips black, eyes sunken. They gleamed with a dark malevolence. Her voice changed to a grating shriek. "Come, boy. Come now!" I tried to scream but no sound came out. Her legs locked around me preventing my escape. I grabbed one leg, trying to pull it away, and pieces of her skin came off in my hand. "Come! Come!" she chanted. Her body ground against mine, and something inside her milked at my cock. I was revolted by her, scared out of my wits, but some things once started are impossible to stop. I came. She smiled a gap- toothed smile, lips drawn back from her teeth in a gruesome death masque. She leaned forward and sank her teeth into my shoulder. God, the pain! It was hot like all the fires of eternal damnation, then suddenly cold, freezing, numb. "You're mine, mine!" she cackled. Flecks of my blood dotted her lips. I was weak, spent, sick. "You're mine. I've claimed you. The seed of your death grows within me. Soon it will come to term and we'll be together for all eternity." She tossed me aside and disappeared into the mist. I found my voice and screamed. The next thing I remember was waking in a hospital bed. I was cold, so cold. I babbled about what happened to me to the nurses, doctors, and my parents. They smiled indulgently but I could tell none of them believed it. Eventually I gave up trying. My friends came to visit me. Molly came once, but I screamed so loudly and violently they asked her to leave. Tears ran down her face but she left. Buck, Larry, and Cal told me this is what happened. They soon found me passed out, lying on the cold ground in the nude, my clothes in a haphazard pile beside me. I never opened my eyes, just mumbled about being cold. When Molly tried to talk to me I screamed and flailed out, begging my friends to keep her from me. "She's a ghost or vampire or something undead!" I moaned. Molly went away and they helped me dress. Then took turns supporting me as they guided me home. They told my parents what they knew and left. My parents took me to the hospital where I am now. It wasn't Molly. I know that now. Poor Molly. What might have been? What would we have had together? We'll never know. The coldness grows inside me, like I'm dying from the inside out. The hag bitch is coming for me. She wants me. At night I can hear her whispering, calling me to her. "Come, boy. You're mine." Then the cackling, the horrible shrieking cackling. I see her in my dreams, her head thrown back in laughter, flecks of saliva and blood clinging to her lips, and the horrible stench of her rotting body. I fight her, but soon I'll be too weak to resist. She haunts me constantly. Eternal Rest, amongst the damned, awaits me. ENDS -- Jack of all Trades E-mail: jackofalltrades@post.com My stories can be found at: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/j/wwwoat or http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Jack_of_all_Trades/ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+