Shifters in the Shadows

by Deveaux, Poppy

  Panting and dripping with sweat, Brandon stayed over her as he gathered himself and tried to recover from the sensations. Jim helped him down and pushed him on the bed next to Jill where she and Brandon lay, trying to let their drained bodies recover, but Jim was still strong and he wanted to have his fill of his wife. He pulled Jill up by her hips and twisted her around, controlling her like an animal as he raised her ass to him and then, with Brandon's cum mingling with her dripping juice, plunged himself into her pussy and fucked her hard and fast. It wasn't hard and fast, it was fucking like it was the last time they were ever going to fuck, a way to release all of the frustration and misery that had clouded their lives for too long, a way to exorcise the demons that had been haunting them. Jim reached forward and grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked it back, making her body bend to his will. Sweat poured from his temples and dropped down, sizzling on the small of her back.

  Anguished moans escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, trying to brace the pleasure and the pain. Never had Jill experienced anything like this before, the sheer rush of orgasm was explosive and almost indescribable. It was as though she was glowing with an incandescent fury that had to be released. Brandon was beside her and he pushed himself across the bed and took her in his arms, kissing her while Jim fucked her, and in this way the three of them were still locked together. Jim spanked her ass and she liked this side of him. Before, in their old life, he had been tender and while their lovemaking had been enjoyable it had not been this primal. Being in Silvercreek, being with Brandon had released something that had been lurking inside them both, something they both needed to escape the tragedy that had befallen them.

  Jim's hands dug into her skin as he pounded her harder and deeper and groaned and yelled and gave her everything that he had. In his mind images of their entire relationship flashed through but the all that was left was the three of them, and when he released himself he fell onto Jill, burying himself in the back of her neck, smelling the scent of her body and tasting the sweat on her skin. Then he felt Brandon's arm around him as he extricated himself and the three of them sank into the soft pillows, enjoying the afterglow of sex. Jill lay in the middle of the two men, with her head resting against Jim's chest and Brandon's arm draped across her body, resting gently against her breast. There the three of them lay for a while, each of them alone with their own thoughts, reflecting on what they had just shared, yet together in the common happiness. Brandon kissed Jill's back, just in between her shoulders, and Jim kissed her forehead. She murmured softly, happily.

  “That was incredible,” she said in between breaths, her chest rising as she tried to catch her breath.

  “I've never felt anything like it,” Brandon agreed.

  “The people in town are going to have a fit when they see the three of us walking together,” Jim said, laughing softly.

  “Look, now it's over I don't expect you to stay here. I know that sometimes people just need to get it out of their system. I don't...I'm not going to hold you here if you want to stay,” Brandon said, unable to hide the concerned tone from his voice. Jill and Jim looked at each other, but it was Jill who spoke. She turned to face Brandon and kissed him lightly on the lips.

  “Brandon, we lost everything in our lives then you came along and saved us. You showed us that there is hope again. Our marriage can never be the same as it was before. We need you just as much as you need us, and yes it's not the most normal relationship but it is real, and it feels right. Silvercreek may not have turned out to be what you hoped it would for everyone, but it has been for us. It's our salvation. For the first time since Lucas died I'm actually looking forward to tomorrow, and it's all because of you.”

  Jim nodded in agreement and a wide smile adorned Brandon's face, and the three of them rested together in their bed, content with the new life they were they were going to make for themselves in Silvercreek.

  THE END

  Taken By Two Ghosts

  The steam train rolled through the English countryside. Plumes of smoke billowed out of the funnel and the train left a trail of grey smog behind it. When it had departed London, the skies had been clear and blue but now it was early evening and stars were twinkling in the dusk. Marion was wedged tightly against the window in a small carriage. Her flaming hair was tightly tied back and her eyes were tired. As the train continued its journey, she was occasionally jostled by the rotund gentleman next to her as the old couple opposite gazed upon her with kind and sympathetic eyes. Yet Marion was oblivious to all of this. The rhythm of the train lulled her into a numb state where she did not care for anything. The carriage and the people in it were amalgamated into a blurry beige scene that was on the periphery of Marion’s vision as she stared absently out of the window. The lush, fertile landscape rushed by before her and although her eyes were seemingly locked on it, she wasn’t aware of anything in her line of sight. Instead she was focused on the tragedy that had befallen her, and as the overwhelming emotions surged through her, she managed to restrain herself so that merely a single tear trickling down her cheek was the only evidence of the turmoil that raged within.

  It had all happened so suddenly. One day they were all a happy family and then in the swiftest of flashes her parents were taken from her by an intoxicated driver. The doctor said they hadn’t suffered, that it had all happened too suddenly for them to realize what had happened, but Marion had seen the mangled bodies and the expressions of sheer terror on their faces and she felt nauseous every time she tried to imagine what their last thoughts must have been. Did they feel shock that their lives were ending so abruptly? Did they feel guilty that they were leaving their little girl alone…?

  It was strange. Just a few days before the accident Marion had been arguing fiercely with her father, demanding that she be treated not as girl but as a young woman for she was done with her schooling and wanted to choose a career, although he wanted her to wait and find a suitor so that she could carry on the family’s legacy. Yet for all her bluster she now felt utterly alone and despondent and she would have given anything to crawl into her father’s arms and be rocked to a sweet sleep just as in her childhood.

  There was so much left unsaid, so much that she could never say and it gnawed at her. It took all her effort to remain composed and not completely break down in front of the strangers in the carriage but she felt as though she was on the brink of collapsing. The train trundled on and as the scenery passed by so too did the memories of the aftermath of the accident. She barely had a chance to process everything before she had been told that she had to go and live with an Uncle she had never met, or if she had she couldn’t remember. Before she knew it she was traveling from London to a small town in Hampshire to begin a whole new life. It was a period of extreme upheaval and as she clutched her bag on the train she sat there, paralyzed, almost willing herself to reverse time and somehow prevent the accident. But she could not.

  By the time the train reached her destination the dim light of dusk had given way to darkness and the stars were out in full force, although much of them were blanketed in the grim smoke that poured from the train. As the locomotive ground to a halt the pistons wheezed and the brakes screeched. When it came to rest there was a final sharp stop, which jolted Marion forward and out of her despairing thoughts. She murmured as she rose and the rotund gentleman beside her huffed as he had to adjust his position to accommodate her movements. Her case was heavy and it was a struggle to get it down without it falling on her but she managed. The rotund gentleman, who had been entirely unhelpful, seemed chuffed after she vacated her seat as he was able to spread himself out. She offered a weak smile to the older couple as she slid past them and then she was out of the carriage and onto the concrete platform. She hopped down and landed with a thud. One or two other people got off with her but they quickly disappeared into the darkness. Marion looked around for a porter but there were none in sight. Behind her, the train began to get ready to depart. She heard the hiss of water and then smelled
the bitter scent of coal and steam as the train slowly pulled away, gathering speed until it rattled along the tracks. She was left alone with just the disappearing plume of steam for company.

  Marion sighed as she lifted her head and looked at the twinkling stars dotted against the inky blackness of the night. For a moment she closed her eyes and wished that it would swallow her up, but then she opened them, wrapped her fingers around the handle of the case, and set off.

  The station was only a small one. There was a bench and a shelter and a small hut that appeared to be the office, but there was no sign that anyone was there. As she passed, she peered into to see if she could make anything out but it was dark, unsurprising for that time of night. A slight chill crept up her spine as she realized she was completely alone in this strange place and she began to glance around furtively. Marion walked away from the platform and the concrete gave way to a cobbled path with spikes of grass protruding at the edges. In the darkness she couldn’t see anything or anyone and her brow creased with worry. She had been told that a car would be here to meet her, and desperate thoughts began to tumble out uncontrollably. What if the car had the time or date wrong? What if it wasn’t coming at all? What if this Uncle was a horrid man?

  Marion had no way to tell the time and there wasn’t a clock in sight. Suddenly she had an idea and skipped back to the platform. Her lips spread into a grin as she saw the face of a clock, but as she looked more closely the smile faded for the clock was broken, frozen in a moment of time. She walked back, kicking a pebble as she did so. When she reached her case she carefully perched herself on it, making sure that it would not fall. She flattened her dress out over her legs and exhaled deeply as there was nothing else to do but wait.

  Eventually she heard the growling of a car engine as it approached the station. Thick beams of light pierced the darkness as it came around the curved road. Once in view, Marion saw that it was a sleek black automobile and she tentatively rose, still unsure whether it would be for her or not. The car stopped and a door opened. A tall, slender man emerged and strode forward purposefully. As he walked around the front of the car, he cut through the shafts of light and it took a while before Marion could make out his features. He grew closer though and she was able to see that he was old and gaunt with hollow cheeks and deep-set eyes. Marion felt her throat going dry and she placed a hand on her case to support her.

  “Miss Simmons?” the man said in a smooth erudite voice. The way he looked at her he seemed to stare straight through her and she almost forget her name. When she opened her mouth only unintelligible sounds came out so she resorted to nodding. The man cocked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow. He moved forward and shot out an arm. Marion gasped, thinking that he was going to grab her, but her cheeks flushed crimson as she realized that he was only picking up her case. He held it without much effort and this gave the impression that he was stronger than he appeared to be. He turned and waited for Marion to walk forward. Her steps were still uneven and her eyes flicked towards the man. She waited by the car as he placed her case securely in the trunk. Her heart was beating fast and she gulped continuously until she worked up the courage to talk.

  “What’s your name?” she asked, her voice more high-pitched than she intended. The man peeked his head up over the car and walked around silently to her door. Again he thrust his arm before her, this time to clasp the handle and pull the door open. He gestured for her to get in.

  “You can call me Winston ma’am,” he said dryly and waited for Marion to enter the car. Once she did so he slammed the door shut and walked around to the driver’s seat. Marion was sitting in the rear seat and almost trembled with fear. Something about Winston gave her an uneasy feeling. Part of her wanted to initiate a conversation but everything emptied from her mind so there was a wall of stony silence between them. Winston set the car in motion and all Marion could do was hope that her Uncle was a talkative host, else her new life could be very long indeed.

  Given that it was night, Marion couldn’t make out the details of her Uncle’s stately manor but in the shadows of the night, it looked an imposing structure. A wide gravel driveway led to the large building. Moonlight glinted off the towering windows, sending eerie shadows dancing over the face of the stately home. As Marion climbed out of the car she gazed up in wonder. It was so different from London, where she had been used to houses clumped together. She took a moment to stand in awe and she noticed how the night was so still. In London, there had been a cacophony of noises. Through the day there was the trotting of horses and even in the small hours of the morning you could hear drunks singing their way home. But out here was different. There was a silent solemnity that seemed to wrap around Marion like an invisible cloak. The house had a strange, hypnotic effect on her. As she looked up she noticed the way it was constructed. Unlike London homes with their boring brick structure this seemed like it had been sculpted. The windows were framed with ornamental wood that had been carefully crafted. Thick plants ran up and covered the lower right-hand side. These crept up to the massive black door that was the gateway to so much mystery and intrigue. She wasn’t sure whether it was the cold or if it was as a result of being in the presence of the house, but her arms had broken out in goose bumps.

  Winston lugged the case from the car and broke Marion’s reverie.

  “This way ma’am,” he said calmly in an even tone. She watched him pass her and raised her eyebrows in astonishment at how the man could so casually carry the case without showing any sign of exertion. That case held all the possessions she could carry with her, and it was disheartening to see that they were such a light load. Without any more hesitation, Marion followed Winston to the door.

  He set the case down and took hold of a large metal knocker shaped to resemble the head of a lion. He brought it down with force three times, sending a loud thumping sound ringing through the area. Marion jumped in a shock as it was a sharp leap in volume. The knocker rested against the door and Winston waited patiently. Marion peered forward, surprised that the door had taken no damage. Just as she did, she jumped again as the door began to creak open. It took an age to finally open and the darkness gradually gave way to dim candlelight. Marion craned her neck around to peer into the doorway for her curiosity was powerful. The candles flickered and shadows danced along the wall. So far she could not see anyone else. Winston waited patiently for the door to open and when there was enough space he picked up the case.

  “Presenting Miss Marion, sir,” he said. Winston held an open palm out and looked at Marion expectantly. She stepped forward and walked into the house with Winston following closely behind. Marion moved forward and her mouth fell open in awe at the vastness ahead of her. There were so many ornaments peppered along the walls and the light reflected off the gold that was framing everything. She caught the faint whiff of a musky aftershave and turned to face the man who owned the house.

  He stepped away from the door.

  “I’ll get that sir,” Winston said.

  The butler set Marion’s case against the wall and took hold off the door, pushing it closed. Marion thought it was no wonder he was so strong if he had to open and close that door every day. The cool evening breeze was kept outside and the goose prickles faded from her skin as the warmth from the candles built and spread over her flesh. She was standing with her back to the wall and she could almost feel the flames licking at her.

  “Ah, splendid! Marion, welcome to my home. I wish we could have met under better circumstances, well, we did meet a long time ago but you were just a baby so I doubt you remember that,” her uncle said. Marion didn’t quite know what to say in reply and the shock of actually meeting him made her momentarily forget her manners. Instead she examined him. He was shorter than she had imagined with a scalp that was peeking through his thinning hair. He had a bushy mustache that gave him a jolly appearance and he was supporting himself with a black cane. As her eyes moved down she noticed that his left leg was askew and limp and she in
stantly felt awkward and embarrassed, as if she had caught him in some salacious situation. She flashed her eyes away and tried to remember the proper protocol, ending up bending her knees in a slight curtsey.

  “Indeed, but I thank you for taking me in. I’m not sure what I would have done otherwise.”

  “Families have to stick together, no matter what. Such a tragedy what happened…it really is.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, unsure of what else to say. It was difficult whenever anyone brought up the accident. Of course it was a tragedy but saying it didn’t make anything better and Marion wished that people would just not bother saying anything at all instead of saying meaningless platitudes.

  “We’ll have none of that girl, I’m your Uncle Charlie!” he said, beaming. He wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her. It was odd at first because it was the first affectionate human touch since a police officer had wrapped a blanket around her. He was warm and soft, but it was foreign and Marion couldn’t decide whether she liked it or not.

  “Winston, take her case to her room, give her the one next to that golden bull and then make her some hot chocolate. Marion, come to the study and we can get to know each other a little bit.”

  Winston moved away without saying anything. Charlie walked away stiffly, his limp leg dragging along the floor. Marion couldn’t help but stare as she followed along.