Page 95 of Corrupt Shadows
I eye her back as I lazily descend.
I laugh darkly, the hairs on my arms standing from the psychotic melody. “Try the lock,” I say, my gravelly voice cracking with restraint.
She turns, placing her back flat against the door, her glittery black nails scraping at the wood. Evie flings herself back around and tilts her gaze up. The lock is slid into place high above her head. She whimpers at the sight and jumps, reaching upward. She misses the first time, her fingers just grazing the iron handle. The witch tries again, the muscles bunching in her shapely legs as she jumps, then slaps at the lock. The metal grates as it disengages, another note in our haunting melody. She pulls on the handles, throws the doors wide, and flees into the night.
My madness stabs my mind, raging as I force it to stall instead of giving chase.
I lift my face toward the sky and take in the waxing moon. My blood-coated fingers slide against the edge of my mask as I push it until it rests near the top of my head.
I place the dagger into its sheath, then extract a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
My brain throbs as I hold myself back. My demonic side thrashes in fury, hating the partial shift of my form. It wants to shift my body fully and unleash its deranged needs. I wrap my bloody and lacerated lips around the cigarette and press my thumb on the wheel of my lighter. A lavender spark ignites the propellant, and a violet flame rises. I cup my hands around the end, then drag in a lungful of the drug-infused smoke and hold it in my chest.
I smoke for several minutes, fighting the psychotic impulses firing in my brain. The longer Evie runs through the woods, the more delicious her fear-drenched arousal will taste.
The music blares in the house behind me, and I wonder if she is still close enough to hear the soundtrack of her flight. I tap the tip of my cigarette, the ash breaking apart to float onto the wooden slats of the porch. I pinch the purple ember, smothering it before pocketing the rest.
I blow out the remaining smoke through my nose and slide my mask into place. I stride through the meadow, the wet foliage dampening the hem of my gore-splattered jeans.
The chill of the October air pricks the bare flesh of my torso. I clear the tree line and step into the woods just as the theme song from Halloween pumps from the manor. I cackle loudly along with my madness as it embraces the vibe of Michael’s murderous tendencies.
The thick trunks of the fir trees blur as I unleash the temporary hold I placed on my madness. Excitement stiffens my shifted cock further. A stripe of moonlight peeks through the skeletal branches of the other trees, then slashes across my torso from shoulder to hip bone. My demonic eyesight widens in pleasure as I take in the swollen head of my dick rising slightly higher and the ridges catching on my jeans as it grows.
It takes no effort for my madness to pinpoint the witch’s exact location as she crashes through the woods. I breathe in deeply, bouncing on the balls of my booted feet and palming the length of my dick straining against my lower abs.
I soothe the madness steering my body. Hunt her. Devour our witch.
FORTY-TWO
Evie
I am being hunted by a fucking psychopath. I’m certain the look on his face promises to introduce me to levels of pain I have yet to experience in my tortured life.
My image of Lorcan prowling toward me with that dagger dangling by his side comes unbidden to my mind as I race through the unfamiliar woods. The dark, depraved side of myself craves Lorcan’s psychopathic madness. His eyes take on a wild look at times, and I never know what he’ll do next. Part of me craves for him to force me again and again, my body simply the receptacle for his pleasure. The thought of how he thrust into me as my limp body jostled on the bed beneath him sends a primal need straight to my swollen clit. He’s right; my cunt is needy for him.
He turned the music up so loud that I can still hear it filtering through the trees a mile or two from the manor. The haunting playlist is perfectly fitting for the psychopath to hunt me down and obliterate my senses. I never knew being scaroused—is that even a word?—would satisfy my craving to be dominated far beyond my level of consensual sanity.
I hiss when my shoulder collides with a tree. My skin tears as I stumble, but I keep running.
“Fuck!” I yell when the side of my cheek meets the leaf-covered forest floor. The air forcefully leaves my lungs as Lorcan’s weight lands on top of me, and I panic. I try to pull air into my lungs, but none travels into my oxygen-starved body.
I dig into the dirt, and something sharp in the soil stabs beneath a nail as I finally gasp precious air into my lungs.
The demon grinds his erection to my ass, wedging my panties between my cheeks. His cock presses against me, seeming heavier than usual. “Caught you,” he growls, the timbre of his deep, gravelly voice pitched an octave lower.
I shiver, realizing he still has not returned to me from his maddened state in the kitchen. My soaking pussy clenches on air as his new baritone tenor washes over me.
The demon forces his hand under my hips and slides it into my panties, cutting me with his sharp-as-fuck claws in the process. I moan and grind my ass back into his hardened length.
His shadows flip me over abruptly, and I suck in a breath. A scream tears from my lungs when I take in his new mask. The black surface seems to absorb the moonlight, and the dripping gold from the eyeholes is exactly like his usual mask. However, this one covers his entire face. My eyes dart over the contours of the molded lips set into an unreadable line, rendering him expressionless.
My nipples pebble against the thin cotton fabric of my tank top. I moan as the hardened peaks brush against Lorcan’s chest. Embracing my dark side means allowing myself to enjoy the darker pleasures that life offers.
His shadows cinch around my ankles and spread me wide. The monster leans down, then lifts the mask slightly before his razor-like teeth grab the gray satin of my panties and shred them. I tremble as he exposes me further to the elements, the cold autumn air chilling the barbell pierced through my flesh, now thankfully healed from the magic-infused ointment.
Lorcan’s maddened gaze smolders as he stares at my opening. The demon hinges at the waist and grinds the unyielding mask against my bundle of nerves. My heart balloons with bliss as he uses the mask to edge me closer to euphoria. He runs his masked nose between my lips and inhales.
“Oh my God,” I whimper. Seeing him like this, half shifted into a demonic form, should terrify me. But it only makes me want him more.