Night With Mommy

by Sofia Connor

  Mrs. Ashford has taken Savannah to the window now, and throws her against it. "Stupid girl," she spits. "Run!" Savannah blindly turns to the window and pushes it open, she lifts herself on to the sill and begin to wiggle through. She is almost completely out when a loud crash causes her to look back. Mrs. Ashford lies on the ground, her mouth opened impossibly wide in a soundless scream, blood flowing past her lips. She is dead. Savannah has never seen someone die before. She looks up to see Chase struggling with a man dressed all in black. No, not a man, a creature. With skin so dark it looks like the ocean water at night, and silver tattoos like the moonlight reflecting off the surface. "Prestan!" He shouts. His teeth resemble those of a sharks, long and pointed, stained yellow and red. As if her commanded them, a half dozen more creatures run past him in to the room, headed straight for Savannah. Chase screams and tackled the shouting man to the floor, bringing his knee down on the creatures snarling face with impressive force. Someone hits him in the head from behind, and Chase falls to the floor. The creature springs upon him, sinking his teeth in to Chase's shoulder with a sickening sound.

  Savannah tears her eyes away from the horrifying scene in time to see three of the beasts simultaneously reaching out towards her. She shrieks, loud and high in pitch, and throws her body desperately out the window. One of the things manages to grab a fistful of hair, and for a terrifyingly painful moment Savannah is suspended in the air. Arrows of pain shoot through her skull, a scream lodged in her throat. The creatures are shouting to one another, voices like gravel that crawl on the surface of her flesh. She reaches up and grips the hand holding her, digging her finger nails in to the rubbery skin there as hard as she possibly can. She hits the ground hard, rolling her ankle as she does so, but she cannot stop. She knows what happens next, she has seen it before. Only this time, these are not creatures of her imagination. These are not the things she sees in her dreams at night, after one of Ashford's bedtime stories.

  Savannah's stomach rolls at the thought of Mrs. Ashford, lying dead in a pool of her own blood. Blood that was much thicker than she would have imagined. Chase's screams follow her out of the yard, seem to echo off every house in the abandoned neighbourhood. Where is everyone? Why is no one coming to save them?

  Vomit threatens its way up her throat and Savannah struggles to keep it at bay. She knows she must run, but the undeniable need to turn back for him is causing her feet to stick to the ground. She also knows, however, that every second of indecision may cost her her life. In the dream, they come from the mouth of the alley to her left. Closing her eyes against the oncoming tears, Savannah turns away and runs with all her strength, runs for her life. ~~

  "Sire, we have found it." The Shadow Creature walks towards him with an unsuppressed gleam in its white eyes. The movements are awkward, as the creature is bent disproportionately at the waist and has limbs that jut out at impossible angles. He never did like the Shadow People, but their powers were undeniable indeed, and their numbers great. They would prove to be of much use when the time for war finally arrived. And if what this creatures says is true, that time will soon be here.

  "Where is it?" He demands, patience worn out. He is so close to his goal, he can taste victory on the tip of his tongue.

  "Kept in the basement, sire. Chains you see. It tried to flee." The creature snickers, laughing at its own cleverness.

  He leaves for the basement, barely holding on to his sanity, but stops to address the creature once more. "What, exactly, is it Pecks? I have always wondered, but now..." He does not say that he is afraid, that would be untrue. And unwise, to show weakness in the face of a shadow creature. But in all honesty, he is hesitant to go down to the basement without knowing. He has been searching for such a long time for The Torch, now that it has been found, he is indeterminate.

  The creature laughs some more, blood gurgling in its throat. "A surprise, master." He chuckles. "A most wonderful surprise." ~~

  Savannah awakes to an amount of pain she has surely never felt before, and to the feeling of being prodded. She tries opening her eyes, but one of them seems to be swollen shut. She cannot remember how she got here. The last thing she does remember was running for her life, making her way in to the city, when suddenly all of the shadows on the street became alive. They jumped at her, shapeless monsters, faceless beings, scratching and clawing. And burning. Every surface of her body felt alight in flame. She longs to claw the flesh from her bones, simply to get the fire off of her. But her hands, she realizes with a start, are chained above her head. She is hanging from a ceiling. What an odd thing, she thinks to herself, I have always wondered what this would feel like. Then the panic sinks in, and whatever thoughts she had, rational or no, are wiped clear from her mind. She can see them, the Shadow People from Mrs. Ashford's stories, the creatures that kept her awake at night for years. In the flesh, surrounding her.

  Screams of terror rip from her body as she wriggles uselessly in her confinement. One of the creatures grabs her chin and forces her to look at it. Him, she thinks it is a him. At first, distinguishing a gender for these creatures seemed like a good idea to her, maybe it would humanize them more and make them seem less terrifying in her own mind. Now, though, seeing the look it, he, is giving her, she realises that nothing she does will make her less scared.

  The creature bends forward, moving its head without moving the rest of its body, and licks the side of her face. He runs his purple tongue over her jaw line and up to her closed lips, laughing from his throat all the while. Another beast has hands on her thighs, inching slowly up underneath her nightgown. Nausea bubbles in her stomach, her head begins to spin. All she can feel is terror, and pain.

  A shout from the doorway causes the creatures to scatter. Savannah looks up to see a man standing in the borders of the door, taking up almost all the space. His shape is large, impossibly so. He looks to be seven feet tall, and built with so many muscles they even it out. He takes a tentative step towards her, then another, and finally steps in to the light.

  A gasp escapes her before she can stop it, and she moves her eyes away from him. He is the most handsome man she has ever seen, straight jaw and strong features, with eyes that left an impression even after a mere second. Somehow, his black hair pulled back in to a long pony tail only seems to make him look that much more masculine. And intimidating.

  "Krasny." He whispers, and even though he is half way across the room, Savannah feels the sensual word seeping in to her skin, caressing her. Her eyes lift back to him of their own accord. He is much closer now, close enough to touch. Though he has the same looking tattoos as the shadow people, he seems human. Closer to a God, truly, but more human than them.

  "Do you understand me?" He says with a thick accent. He is the first of her captors to speak English to her, although she is not surprised. He holds himself differently than the shadows, and they cower beneath his gaze. Savannah manages to nod in answer, but cannot find her voice to speak.

  "I am Thanatos, and you belong to me now. Try to escape, and I will saw off both your legs and feed them to the Night Walkers." He comes closer to her and places one hand gently under her chin, lifting her face to his. His tenderness does not match with his threats, and the tone of his voice is deadly. "Do you understand me?" He asks again. Savannah cannot tell if he is angry or not, but when he repeats the question she nods in assurance, certain it is best not to test him. He nods to her, seeming to have made a decision. He reaches up to her chains and releases her aching wrists. Savannah falls to the floor in a heap of limbs and fabric. She looks up to see him watching her, a curious look on his face. He appears to be studying her.

  Trying her best to put on a brave face, Savannah slowly rises to her knees, then pushes herself up to her feet. Her head spins strangely, her breath comes in shallow gasps. Knees wobbling, she straightens herself and locks gazes with the striking man. Thanatos, he said? The personification of death, if she remembered correctly. And she does not doubt it. Looking at him, his strength and se
riousness was not lost on her. This was a man you did not want to anger.

  Is that why he was with the shadow people? Because he controls them? And why not? If he is death incarnate, it would make sense for demons to be his followers. What had he called them? Night Walkers. Only they did not walk in the night, they moved with it, making it come alive.

  "Come." Thanatos orders, curling a large finger towards her. Savannah takes one tentative step forward, but her legs cannot carry her, and she crumples to the ground. For the first time she realises how tired she is. She struggles to keep her eyes open, but she does not attempt to stand again, it would be pointless.

  The large man sighs above her, and then leans down to gather her in his arms. He lifts her effortlessly, cradling her small body close to his much larger one. Like being held by granite, she thinks. His toned muscle presses against her. She inhales his purely masculine scent. Please be here to save me, she prays. Though she knows it is in vain. Thanatos. She belongs to him now? Not if she has anything to say about it.

  ~~

  She was not what he had expected. He wasn't sure what they were looking for, but for all this time, for it to be a girl...And not just any girl. No, the most beautiful he had ever seen. Even with dirt covering every inch of her body, with blood in her hair, hiding her face. With pain in her eyes and bruises all over her tattered frame, her beauty could not be denied. The curves of her body were prominent, and he wanted nothing more than to touch them.

  "Beautiful." Thanatos said, before he could stop himself. She looked at him then, fear plain in her eyes. But another emotion was there, one he was not expecting to see. Determination. So much about her was surprising. What had Pecks said? She was human. The only human language he knew was English. "Do you understand me?" He asked, inwardly cringing at the difficulty of speaking this tongue after such a long time of talking only to the shadow born.

  The girl nodded before her head slumped back down, but she never tore her eyes from him. They were so blue he almost lost his breath in their intensity. Never had he seen pools that deep, color that vibrant. His own eyes were black, lifeless, the same black as his hair. The same black as the shadow people's skin. Black like their hearts, like his heart should be.

  But seeing this girl, beat to a point where she would be unrecognizable to her own family, forcing her body to stand in front of him...He cannot help but feel something towards her. Not sympathy, no, never that. But recognition of some kind. Appreciation even. He sees her strength, even as he sees her many weaknesses.

  She shifts under his gaze, resting her weight on one leg. The movement causes the shredded night dress she wears to move, the fabric catching between her legs to show a creamy white thigh. Skin of porcelain. Skin he wants so badly to taste...

  "Come," he beckons. The girl hardly hesitates, and instead takes one step towards him before falling to the ground. It is only then he realises how serious her injuries truly are. He sees her heaving on the stone floor and throws an angry glare at the walkers around him. They creep backwards, further in to the shadows. Thanatos reaches down and lifts the girl up in to his arms. She weighs close to nothing, her body feels fragile. For a moment he feels the desire to crush her to him, to see how hard he can squeeze her before she breaks. He imagines her screams filling the basement, echoing off the stone walls. There is a growing tightness in his groin as he realises the screams he wants to hear are of a different nature entirely.

  The girl shifts in his arms and breathes in, causing her breasts to rub against his skin tauntingly. He takes on hand from under her and brings it to her chest, sufficiently holding her light weight with one arm. His free hand cups one plump breast, feeling the weight of it. The generous globe is soft and weilding in his palm, and he tweaks the nipple with strong, able fingers. She shifts again. She has passed out. But when she awakes, Thanatos grins, his fun will begin. A most wonderful surprise indeed.

  The End.

  MILF Anesthetist

  I felt hands on my waist and a deep rich voice whisper in my ear "So how is my favorite MILF Anesthetist?"

  I whirled around and gave Jamal an enthusiastic hug and a quick peck on the lips. "She's good! How is my favorite Hunky Resident?"

  "All good here...I didn't know you were coming to this...so it just got a whole lot better!"

  "See, it is exactly that kind of flattery that makes me want to melt in your arms...and you are the only man to refer to me as a MILF, which while not accurate, is kind of juicy..."

  "It's perfectly accurate! I would love to F... you!"

  "Thank you for THAT, but I am not a mother. Merely a step-mother..."

  "Well, OK. So technically, just the I. L. F. part is true then!"

  I felt that this was getting a little out of hand, so switched topics. "What do you think of the accommodations? My room is palatial compared with last year's."

  "Well this is the first one of these that I've have attended, so I have nothing to compare it to. "

  Glancing down at my left hand, Jamal said, "Looks like someone isn't wearing her wedding ring."

  "Yeah, I decided to be single again this weekend."

  "Oh, I didn't realize it worked like that. So I can get married, but just go out to a bar, take off my ring and be single again? Shit, I'd known that, I would have been married for years..."

  "Well, it works that way for me. For us. I won't allow him to do that, because I am very jealous...But when he is gone he encourages me to flirt and have fun. As long as I tell him about it afterwards. He has been gone for three weeks already, and as usual he gave me his blessing for...whatever..."

  I had told Parker about Jamal, and the two had met at the Christmas party. Parker had encouraged me to see where the flirtation might lead, but I was afraid to. Parker and I had a good thing going and I didn't want to endanger it. While he might like the idea of me coloring outside the lines, he might not actually like the result.

  I said, "Well I'm going to go get another glass of wine. You want anything, or are you good?"

  "I am good, and I want everything. But I'll settle for another glass of red, as well."

  I smiled at his comment and then threaded my way off to the bar.

  When I returned about 10 minutes later, I found him engaged in close conversation with a pretty young woman, so I handed him his glass, gave him a thumbs up sign and a "Buena suerte Matador " wink, and walked out to the patio for a smoke.

  It was getting dark, and the post-conference happy hour was winding down. I had just finished my cigarette when again I felt hands on my waist, and turned to find Jamal had snuck up on me.

  "Damn. You're like a ninja. I didn't even hear you approach. Did you make plans with Miss Junior Hotness to go out clubbin' later?"

  "No. She was cute, but she is a little young for my taste. I prefer women with some miles on the odometer. I find that they are more inclined to know what they want and know how to get it."

  "Well, maybe so, but I know that we old hags are just as likely to be psycho bitches as the young ones. Most of the middle-aged women I know that are single are bat shit crazy. Maybe fun in bed , hell, maybe fabulous in bed, but crazy as hell. Anyway, I think that this old hag is going to go and order a nice big Caesar from room service, open a nice bottle of Malbec from Trader Joe's, and soak in the tub. Good to see you again kiddo."

  And with that, I sauntered off toward the elevator. A doctor that I knew from work was already inside, but was holding the door for me.

  "Hey, Alexandria, wait up!" And Jamal hurried to join us.

  The doctor asked what floors, and I answered "Four" and Jamal said "Five."

  When we reached my floor I gave them both a cheery wave and stepped into my hall.

  Once inside my room, I opened the wine to let it breathe then called room service. They expected the order to be delivered in 15 minutes so I decided to grab a quick shower instead of a lengthy bath. If I felt extravagant, I could always run a tub afterward. The shower felt wonderful. I hated that I had started s
moking again, and found that I showered and brushed my teeth about 500 times a day to get the smell off of me. I soaped up and luxiuriated in the feel of the slippery soap on my smooth skin. As I ran my hands over my hips , I couldn't help but recall the feel of Jamal's strong hands which had touched me there not a half hour before. I reduced the water to a warm trickle, and soaped up breasts, pulling on my sensitive nipples. Next I ran the bar of soap down my belly, using the smooth edge to stimulate my hairless sex. Spreading my labia, I ran my slippery fingers up and down, lightly inserting two, while stimulating my clit with my other hand. Thinking of Jamal's sexy voice in my ear. Remembering the way we had danced at the Christmas party, his hands circling my waist, and then inappropriately placed on the top of my butt... Parker had been with me at the Christmas party. When I had pointed out Jamal's roaming hands, Parker had merely laughed and said, "Hey you can't blame the guy. You have a fabulous body and that tight red lycra doesn't exactly hide your, uh, attributes!" It was true-various co-workers had taken my picture that night with their cell phones, and I had a quite a collection on my phone as a result. In most of them, it did appear that my breasts were on the verge of escaping and going home with whomever they liked... And in some of the pictures, my dress was hiked up high enough to expose the bands of my thigh highs... "Oh GOD, "I cried as I brought myself to a swift climax.

  I rinsed off, stepped out of the shower and heard knocking and "Room Service!"

  "Shit!" I had taken longer in the shower than intended...lust tends to make one lose track of time! Hastily I whirled a towel around my head, and still dripping shrugged into my robe.