In_Darkness_Dwells - Sex Stories

In_Darkness_Dwells

... can’t stay here, not with those prowlers close by,” said Volker.

“It’s because of those prowlers that we have to. Almost half the survivors can’t travel. What do you think is going to happen to them if they get left behind? Besides, how long will it take to reach Runa on foot? A day? Two? Do you really want to be out in those woods during the night?”

“My friend, I’ve hunted lions and elephants in the Savanah. This is not my first time in the great outdoors.”

“Well when you were in the Savanah, were you shooting those lions with fucking rock salt like you did that wolf? You do that to a bear, and all you’ll accomplish is pissing it off. He’ll take the time to eat your soul along with your face. At least here, we have some decent shelter. I’m not normally one for waiting, but I say we dig in, try to fortify our defenses, and wait for help to arrive.”

“And the bodies? They’ll lure every beast of the wild.”

“We could just stick them in one of the cargo cars.”

“If you do that, the moment you open those doors again, you’ll be awash in a tidal wave of maggots. We need to bury them.”

“Less than a dozen of us came out of that train alive, and not unscathed. Digging a grave for every corpse simply isn’t feasible.” Sam then paused. “Actually, there may be a way to do one without having to do the other.”

The dead bodies were lined up at the very base of the cliff, with the newest addition bearing fresh bite wounds. Sam, Volker, and the few other capable survivors ...

... climbed above them with shovels and began digging into the cliff, with all the loose dirt and clay falling down onto the bodies below. It didn’t take much to set off a small landslide, leaving many bodies sufficiently covered. The mass burial was repeated down the line, and once complete, a cross was hammered into the ground.

With that taken care of, the survivors worked on defending themselves from wild animals. One of the cars tipped on its side offered the best defense, and the broken windows overhead were covered up with logs and metal. That night, the survivors huddled together, sleeping on scavenged bedding with what space they could find. Sam stayed up, cooking a can of beans over a fire and drinking. Volker sat across from him, nursing his own liquor bottle with his shotgun across his lap.

“So what business does an American have this deep in Romania?” he asked.

“The same business I have everywhere else: none at all. I’m just wandering across Europe.”

“You didn’t see enough of it during the Great War?” Sam glanced at him. “The way you check your gun five times a day and the way you drink tell me you spent time in a trench.”

“I spent a lot of time in a trench, and plenty other places. Once the war ended, I decided it would be nice to explore Europe without getting shot at, so I’ve just been roaming from one country to the next for the last few years. You’re on the few Germans I met that hasn’t held a grudge.”

“I was never in the war. I’m a scholar, and ...