In_Darkness_Dwells - Sex Stories

In_Darkness_Dwells

... and shaking his head, but when he looked again, he found himself staring into an empty grave marked with a cross engraved with his name.

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“Join us, Sorine. Take your rightful place in our village,” the man with the goat skull said. Other cultists held Sorine still, and as hard as she fought to break free, their grip was like iron. The man forced his bloody dagger into her hands, and Sorine watched as a crying baby was presented to her. “Join us, Sorine.”

“Join us, Herr Hofmann, and serve Germany,” said the other officers, standing around Volker. He wept in horror and disgust, but his arm raised the rifle in his hands and aimed it at a young woman crying and begging for mercy. He could feel his finger tightening around the trigger, and he fought with everything he had to resist. “Join us, Volker.”

“Join us, Sam. This is where you belong!” the legion of the dead ordered. Sitting in a sea of corpses, feeling their skeletal hands grabbing at him, Sam’s sanity was slipping away. He didn’t know if he was doing it, didn’t even know if he should stop it, but he felt his fingers close around his pistol and raise it to his temple. His movements were erratic, almost spasming, and his hand struggled to steady the gun as Sam stared into his open grave. “Join us, Sam.”

“JOIN US!”

The crack of a pistol rang out, and searing pain filled Sam’s mind, but though it should have robbed him of his consciousness, he actually felt energy surging through his brain and ...

... boosting his awareness. He collapsed, feeling cold soil on one side of his face and hot blood running down the other like liquid pain. He couldn’t see anything, and all he could hear was the agonizing ringing in his ear from his gun going off, refusing to let his mind sink back into darkness.

It took him several moments, but he managed to steady his thoughts, deal with the pain, and push himself onto his knees. His vision was still blurry, but he could tell he was in a dark place with something in front of him producing an eerie dim light. He recognized the stench of death, and its power was almost more than he could bear. His eyes finally settled and he let slip a curse of fear.

Standing before him was a tree with gnarled black bark, almost looking diseased. The trunk stood almost a hundred feet tall before splitting into two large branches like a Y, and from those mighty limbs stretched countless smaller branches. In between the two main limbs, a giant flower blossomed atop the tree trunk, with the pistil and stamen—the antennae-like stalks in the center—producing a green light that lit up the chamber. This was Rathodor, the Tree of the Dead, and hanging from its branches were its fruit, growing into the demonic spawn.

Sam looked down, realizing he was sitting atop a pile of bodies, both old and fresh, used as the tree’s soil. He yelped in disgust and staggered to his feet, though he was already thoroughly befouled by the fluids of the rotting corpses. It hurt to turn ...