Black is the night though death will become her. Crawling through darkness, finding a way to get to her feet through the aid of a nearby tree, she stammered with legs of fragility to try to make passage out of the woods back to the light of the pathway, seeking help from any passers-by. She scrambled heavily down the near-by embankment. The rain came down heavily causing dried hills to become pool of thick mud and swelling drifts………
This is the journey of what would become of her splendid beauty.
Isabel Cassy was a striking brunette and stood all of 5 foot 6 inches tall. She was shy upon first meeting her but over time her playfulness and splendor shone like rays of the sun.
Capricious daughter of quasi plagued merciless descendants, she was dainty in her illustrious days. Of late her gleam became hindrance; she loathed who they had made her. Her inner being had become worn and sheltered away from wanting to feel any type of emotion human kind could experience. She chose the darkness of night over warm rays of sunlight and wandered alone through the shadows of the moon.
On this particular rain filled night she felt a need for some passionless fornication. To cut free from the ties that bound her and made her feel so unwanted and unloved.
She met him in an enraptured metrical back-beat tavern. He was an erotic darkness that beckoned her yearning. She’d been asphyxiating in a passionless union for longer than she’d care to recall, he was all to enticing for her to pass up. She’d ordered several drinks and was feeling pretty good.
Jonathon Wadham was 6 foot tall with jet black hair and an incredibly muscular build. He came from the poor squalor side of the village and barely made eye contact with any other who dwelled within.
No utterance amidst them only an epitome of elegance from her sheer exquisiteness and an intrigue of his handsomeness created a seductive enchantment that she could not turn away from.
He approached her with a dead hunger in his eyes she could not turn away from. She did not move, only gave back the same dead hungered stare to him. He took her hand and spoke not a word, pulled her close, one hand around her waist, the other on her left side of her neck with his thumb on her jaw line. It was the longest stare in examination of the eyes anyone had ever known.
What either was searching for must have been clear as before she knew it they were in the darkest corner of this establishment exploring each others touch, running thirsted lips across each facial and neck contour. For a man so strong he lightly licked and bit her collar-bone, running his tongue up her neck to her earlobe. She quivered with delight and took her right hand and ran it down his chest, across his naval and down his inner thigh and slowly back up again stopping for only a moment at his now swollen throbbing heated love missile. She seductively traced the outline of it with her index finger rounded the tip and down the other side, back up again and back across his naval. She lightly tugged down the collar of his shirt and ran her tongue across his collar-bone, up the side his neck where she stopped to suck, first lightly then a little harder. He let out a moan and ran his hand down her firm buttox cheek and squeezed pulling her into his stiffness. With his other hand he lifted her leg and pressed himself against her and kissed her deeply using his tongue as a lasso pulling her in deeper and deeper. She lifted her leg higher and pressed herself back into him feeling his swelling and his heat. She wanted him inside her. He ran his hand up under her skirt and slipped a digit inside her wet passage and she let out a moan of her own and pushed herself into him so that his digit went deeper inside her. The kissed even deeper, stronger. Their breathing became labored and intense. She glided her hand across his naval and took hold of his heat seeking venomous throbbing python of love squeezed a little and stroked it running her fingers around the top and straight down to the underside providing a light massage to his testicles, then back up again. The kissing became more heated and light biting ensued with wild tongues. She unzipped his pants and released his flesh tower from its garment confine as he spun her round and pushed her up against the wall. Using his own hand he held himself and teased her wet quim with it. Rubbing and pressing adding a digit here and there. Before she could take a breath in he thrust himself inside her with burning fiery passion and each thrust took him deeper and deeper inside. He lifted her up so that both her legs were around him and he pressed her up against the wall and thrust himself deeper and harder.
She dug her nails into his back and bit into his chest sucking hard as she pulled back. She thrust her hips wildly and used his shoulders for leverage. Together the rhythm was synonymous until both reached climax and pushed and pulsed so tight it was almost impossible to breathe. In those moments she lost herself, forgot who she was and she loved l it.
In the moments after the kissing was heavy, even while the tucked themselves back to their prospective proper dress and tried to straighten out the wrinkles and fix out-of-place hair, never once letting go of each other. He raised both her hands up over her head against the wall and pressed into her again kissing her deeply. The only words spoken by him were done so now, shall we go outside for a walk and cool off?
As they departed the tavern she knew not what would become her eventual end. They walked a while, then he stopped and turned to face her. Before she became aware of her surroundings his hand was on her throat. She struggled for a breath but it was futile. His grip constricted her every chance of any air making it to her lungs. Then she felt the wintry steel blade pierce her rib-cage several times and then come across her neck slicing deep. Immediately she gasped for air. The enormity of the cavernous openings the blade left spilled out a blanket of her life’s vital fluid on to the muddied soil. The Monster had struck. She was dying.
He’d gone, left her there for dead sure she would bleed out quickly. She struggle to get up to her feet after being thrown to the ground like a rag-doll. As she pulled every ounce of life and strength left in her she clambered upon an old railroad bed, long abandoned, broken and rusted. As she tried to continue on, she stumbled to her knees. Behind her the winds shrieked as they licked her now torn and battered torso. Every now and again she thought she heard heavy footsteps behind her but when she turned and looked there was nothing to be seen, it was the wind’s mockery messing with her mind. She managed to crawl to a nearby opening in the thickened wet brush and saw the pathway before her.
One hand touched the wet pavement and she collapsed completely. The last blood spilled from her body, the last breath taken. Her last thought was at least they will find my body, thank god it’s all over.
Death became her that night.
by Gillian A. Gibson
Protected By the Crimson Vaults since 2014